Columbia ©nttirm'tj) 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIVEN BY 
 
 H.W. Howe;/ 
 
HISTORY OF EUROPE 
 
 FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE 
 
 ' FRENCH REVOLUTION 
 
 IN 1789, 
 
 TO THE RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS 
 
 IN 1815. 
 
 BY ARCHIBALD ALISON, F.R.S.E., 
 
 ADVOCATE. 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 NEW. YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 NO. 82 CLIFF-STREET. 
 
 18 42. 
 
1f% 
 
 « Bellcm maxime omnium memorabile quse unquam gesta sint me scripturum ; quod Hannibale duce 
 Carthaginienses cum populo Romano gessere. >Jam neque validiores opibus uUae inter se civitates gentes- 
 que contulerunt arma, neque his ipsis tantum unquam virium aut roboris fuit • et baud ignotas belli artes 
 mterse sed expertas primo Punico conserebant bello; odiis etiam props rnajonbus certanmt cuam vin- 
 Dus ; et adeo varia belli fortuna, ancepsque Mars fuit, ut propius periculum fuerinl qui vicerunt "— Liv 
 
 
 / 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Importance and Splendour of the Stibject.— Great 
 Diversity of Character and Event which it exhibit- 
 ed.— Causes in the State of Society which lirst 
 led to Freedom. — Difference between Liberty m 
 Ancient and Modern Times. — Origin of the Rep- 
 resentative System. — Feudal System. — Causes 
 which led to its Decay in the Northern Monarchies 
 of Europe.— Urban Civilization in Italy.— Causes 
 of its Decline. — Circumstances which restored 
 general Freedom after the Extinction of Feudal 
 Securities against arbitrary; Power.— Combination 
 of these Causes in producing the French Revolu- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 COMPARATIVE PEOGKESS OF FREEDOM IN FRANCE 
 ANP ENGLAND. 
 
 Parallel of the Fnghsh and French Revolutions. — 
 Early Freedan acquired by the People in the for- 
 mer Countrf- — Great and beneficial Effects of the 
 Norman Conquest, and of the Religious Contests 
 of the Seventeenth Centu^,^ — Moderation and 
 Clemeiicy of all Parties in the Great Rebellion. — 
 Earlj History of France. — Its striking Difference 
 from England. — Disastrous Effects which there 
 rdsulted from the English Wars.— Causes which 
 prevented the Growth of a free Spirit, and render- 
 ed nearly absolute the Power of the Crown. — 
 Causes which ultimately produced a pohtical Fer- 
 ment, and induced the savage Character of the 
 Revolution. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CAUSES IN FRANCE WHICH PREDISPOSED TO REVO- 
 LUTION. 
 
 Proximate Causes of the Revolution. — Progressive 
 Increase of Wealth among the Lower Orders. — 
 Decline of Power among the great Feudatories. — 
 Philosophy and Literature. — Abuses which exist- 
 ed in the Church, Government, State, and Rural 
 Districts.- — Inordinate Passion for Innovation which 
 succeeded. — Character of Louis XVI., Marie An- 
 toinette, and liis early Ministers. — Turgot, Neckar, 
 Malesherbes, Vergennes, Calonne. — Assembly of 
 Notables. — Contests with the Parliament.— Con- 
 vocation of the States-General. — Duplication of the 
 Tiers Etat. — General Election. — Difference be- 
 tween the Love of Freedom and Passion for Pow- 
 er.— Causes which rendered the Revolutionists tri- 
 vunphant. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 CONSTITUENT ASSEMBLY. 
 
 Opening of the States-General. — Views and Efforts 
 of the different Parties. — Composition of the As- 
 sembly. — First Step of the Revolutionists is to com- 
 bine the different Orders into one Body. — Tennis- 
 court Oath.— They succeed in the Attempt. — All 
 Attempts to form a mixed Constitution thereafter 
 fail. — Revolt of the Army. — Vigorous Measures 
 resolved on by the Court.— Storming of the Bastile. 
 — Triumph of the Populace. — Precipitate Meas- 
 ures of the Assembly. — Abandonment of the Feu- 
 dal Rights. — Proclamation of the Rights of Man. 
 — General Anarchy in the Kingdom. — Irruption of 
 the Mob into the Palace of Versailles. — The Royal 
 Family brought back Captive to Paris. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM THE REVOLT AT VERSAILLES TO THE CON- 
 CLUSION OF THE CONSTITUENT ASSEMBLY. 
 
 Rapid Advance of the Revolution. — Immense Chan- 
 ges of the Constituent Assembly. — Division of 
 France into Departments. — Confiscation of Church 
 Property. — L-niversal Suffrage. — Abolition of Ti- 
 tles of Honour. — Establishment of National 
 Guards. — Change of the Law of Inheritance. — 
 Clubs in the Capital. — General Emigration. — 
 Junction of Mirabeau to the Court. — His Death. — 
 King's Flight to Varennes. — His Arrest there, and 
 subsequent Impeachment. — Revolt in the Champ 
 de Mars.- — Change in the Policy of the Constitu- 
 ent Assembly as it approached its Tennination. — • 
 Its Closing, and Summary of the Changes it in- 
 troduced, and their Effects. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FROM THE OPENING OP THE LEGISLATIVE ASSEM 
 ELY TO THE FALL OF THE MONARCHY. 
 
 Opening of the Legislative Assembly. — State of Par- 
 ties at its Commencement. — Severe Decrees against 
 the Emigrants and nonjuring Clergy. — Accession 
 of the Girondists to Power. — They determine to 
 precipitate France into Hostilities. — Dumourier, 
 his Character. — Declaration of War. — Insurrection 
 in St. Domingo. — Tumult in theTuilleries on 28th 
 June. — First Appearance of Napoleon. — Failure of 
 La Fayette to support the Throne. — A Revolt is 
 o.ganized by the Girondists. — Proclamation by the 
 Duke of Brunswick, and Invasion by the Allies. — 
 Revolt of the 10th August. — Massacre of the 
 Swiss. — Arrest and Imprisonment of the King and 
 Royal Family. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FRENCH REPUBLIC, FROM THE DETHRONEMENT TO 
 THE DEATH OF LOUIS. 
 
 Violent Measures which immediately followed the 
 Overthrow of the Throne. — Fall and Fhght of 
 La Fayette. — Character of the Revolutionary 
 Leaders. — Danton. — Marat. — Robespierre. — Insti- 
 tution of the Revolutionary Tribunal. — Massacre 
 in the Prisons. — Termination of the Legislative 
 Assembly. — Election for, and Character of, the 
 Convention. — Change in the Calendar.- — Character 
 and Contests of the Girondists and Jacobins. — Es- 
 tablishment of a completely Democratic Constitu- 
 tion. — Impeachment and Acquittal of Marat and 
 Robespierre. — Preparations for the Trial of Louis. 
 — His Trial and Condemnation.— Dignified Con- 
 duct in his last Days, and Execution. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 STATE OF EUROPE PRIOR TO THE COMMENCEMENT 
 OF THE WAR. 
 
 State and relative Struggle of the European Monar- 
 chies at the Commencement of the War. — Great 
 Britain. — Its Strength, Resources, and Parties. — 
 Mr. Fox, Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Burke. — Austria. — Re- 
 volt in its Flemish Dominions. — Its Military Re- 
 sources. — Prussia, Russia, Sweden, Spain, Switz- 
 erland, and Italy. — Diplomatic Negotiations of 
 the European Powers prior to the Commencement 
 of War.— Situation and Termination of the Con- 
 test between Austria, Russia, and Turkey. — Am- 
 
ir 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 bitious Views of the Northern Powers on Poland. — 
 Appro.viiiiation towards a League against France. 
 
 — Declaration of Mantua and of Pilnitz. — The 
 Plan of attacking France is abandoned by the Al- 
 lies, but the Revolutionists resolve on War. — 
 Strict Neutrality of England after Hostihties be- 
 gan. — She is at length drawn into the Contest. 
 
 — Preparations for War in Great Britain, and 
 Measures of France which rendered it unavoida- 
 ble. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1792. 
 
 State of the French Annies at the Commencement 
 of Hostilities.— Character of the Duke of Bruns- 
 wick, and Plans of the Allies for the Invasion of 
 the Rcpubhc— They cross the Frontier, and meet 
 •with rapid and unexpected Success. — Are arrested 
 at Valmy by Dumourier.— Action there.— Secret 
 Causes of their Retreat.— Siege of Lisle.— Fall of 
 Mayence. — Invasion of Flanders. — Battle of Je- 
 mappes. — Advance of the Republicans to the 
 Meuse and the Scheldt.— Oppression of the Rev- 
 olutionary Agents in Belgium. — War in Savoy and 
 Nice. — Conclusion of the Campaign on the Rhine. 
 — Its checkered Fortunes and disastrous Conse- 
 quences. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FRENCH REPUBLIC, FROM THE DEATH OF THE KING 
 TO THE FALL OP THE GIRONDISTS. 
 
 State of public Feeling in Paris after the Execution 
 of the King. — Retirement of Roland from the Gi- 
 rondist Ministry. — Great Effect of the Commence- 
 ment of the War. — Vast Increase in the Powers 
 of the Revolutionary Tribunal. — General Distress 
 in Paris, and public Clamour for a Maximum on 
 Prices. — Effort of Dumourier to restore the Mon- 
 archy. — His Failure and Flight. — Appointment of 
 the Committee of Public Safety. — Trial and Ac- 
 quittal of Marat. — Continued Contests of the Gi- 
 rondists and Jacobins. — Insurrection of 31st May. 
 — General Attack on the Convention. — The Gi- 
 rondists are given up to the Populace. — Their 
 Trial, Execution, and heroic Conduct on the Scaf- 
 fold. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 REIGN OF TERROR, FROM THE FALL OF THE GIRON- 
 DISTS TO THE DEATH OF DANTON. 
 
 Government of the Jacobins. — The Committee of 
 Public Safety. — Coalition of the Departments 
 against their Authority. — Its speedy Dissolution. 
 — Extreme and cruel Measures everywhere put in 
 Force by the Jacobin Clubs and Authorities. — 
 Abolition of Sunday. — Assassination of Marat by 
 Charlotte Corday. — Her Execution. — Arrest of 
 seventy-three Members of the Convention. — Cruel 
 Treatment of the Dauphin. — Trial and Execution 
 of Queen Marie Antoinette. — Destruction of the 
 Monuments at St. Denis. — Fete of the Goddess of 
 Reason. — Universal Abandonment of Religion, and 
 closing of the Churches. — Excessive Dissolution 
 of Manners. — Arrest and Death of Bailly, the Duke 
 of Orleans, and all the Orleans Party. — Estrange- 
 ment of the Dantonists, and Committee of Public 
 Safety. — Arrest, Trial, and Execution of Hebert, 
 and the Anarchists Danton, Camille Desmoulins, 
 and all their Party. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1193. PaRT I. 
 
 FROM THE OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN TO THE FOR- 
 CING OF THE CAMP OF C^SAR. 
 
 State of Opinion in Great Britain on the War. — Ar- 
 guments in the Country and in Parliament on the 
 Subject. — Mr. Gray's Motion for Parliamentary 
 Reform. — Arguments for and against it.— Traitor- 
 ous Correspondence Act, and other coercive Meas- 
 
 ures of the British Government. — Preparations for 
 War, and Treaties of Alliance on the part of the 
 coalesced Powers. — Divisions between the Prus- 
 sians and Austrians. — Mihtary Elibrts of France. 
 —Battle of Nerwinde, and Loss of Flanders by 
 their Armies. — Siege and Recapture of Mayence 
 by the Imperialists. — Congress at Antwerp regard- 
 ing the Prosecution of the War, and unhappy 
 Plans it adopted. — Battle at Famars. — Siege and 
 Fall of Valenciennes. — Rout in the Camp of 
 Cffisar. — Desperate Situation of the RepubU- 
 cjms. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 WAR IN LA VENDEE. 
 
 Local Situation and Aspect of La Vendee. — Manners 
 and Character of the Inhabitants prior to the Rev- 
 olution. — Causes which led to the Insurrection. — 
 Character of Larochejaquelein, Bonchamps, Les- 
 ciire, Charette, and the other Chiefs.— Their Mode 
 of fighting, and astonishing Success. — Repeated 
 Victories of the Peasants, and their Capture of 
 Saumur.— Failure at Nantes, and Death of Cathe- 
 hneau.— General Invasion of the Bocage.— Des- 
 perate Actions sustained by the Vendeans, and 
 their linal Triumph.— A second Invasion leads to 
 their Defeat at Cholet.— Passage of the Loire by 
 the whole Population.— Repeated and surprising 
 Successes in Brittany. — Their Failure at Granville. 
 — Disastrous Retreat to the Loire — They are iinal- 
 ly routed at Mans and Savenay. — Cruel Execu- 
 tions which followed the Success of the Republi- 
 cans. — Anecdotes of individual Heroism and Es- 
 capes. 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1793. PART II. 
 
 FROM THE ROUT IN THE CAMP OK CiESAR TO THK 
 
 CONCLUSION OF THE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 Vigorous Measures of Carnot and the Committee of 
 PubUc Safety for the Conduct of the War. — Then 
 vast Levies and Exertions. — Change of Ministry 
 at Vienna. — Recognition of the Maritime Laws by 
 the Allied Powers. — Division of the Allied Forces 
 in Flanders, and its disastrous Effects. — Defeat of 
 the English at Dunkirk. — Checkered Fortune of 
 the Imperialists. — Their ultimate Defeat. — Indeci- 
 sive Campaign on the Rhine, occasioned by the 
 Divisions of the Allies. — Campaign on the Pyre- 
 nees and in the Maritime Alps. — Insurrection at 
 Lyons. — Siege and Sufferings of that City. — Its 
 Fall. — Delivery of Toulon to the English. — Its 
 Siege. — Able Measures of Napoleon for its Reduc- 
 tion. — Burning of the Fleet and Arsenal, and Evac- 
 uation of the Place. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 REIGN OF TERROR, FROM THE DEATH OF DANTON 
 TO THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 
 
 Political Fanaticism of this sanguinary Period. — 
 Characters of St. Just and Couthon. — Immense 
 Accumulation of Captives in the Prisons, and uni- 
 versal Horror which there prevailed. — Robespierre 
 gradually reverts to more reasonable Principles. — 
 Fete in honour of the Supreme Being. — Cruelties 
 in the Provinces. — Execution of Malesherbes, the 
 Princess Elizabeth, and others. — Horror generally 
 excited by these atrocious Massacres.— Fear exci- 
 ted in the Leaders of the Jacobins for their own 
 Safety. — Coalition of Parties against Robespierre 
 and the Committee of Pubhc Safety. — Debates in 
 the Assembly. — Arrest of Robespierre and his 
 Party. — Their Deliverance.— Struggle at the Ho- 
 tel de Ville. — Their fmal Seizure and Execu- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 INTERNAL STATE OF FRANCE DURING THE REIGN 
 OF TERROR. 
 
 Vast Exertions of the French Government during 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 the Reign of Terror. — Prodigious Issue of Assig- 
 nat8. — Its EHects, Maxiiuuiu on Prices, Robbery 
 of the Cultivators for the Support of the l^opulace 
 in the Cities. — Forced Loans. — Bleiidini; of the 
 Revolutionary and old Debt, — Excessive Severity 
 on all Classes of the Measure to which the Gov- 
 ernment was driven. — Grinding Oppression of the 
 Poor. — Successive Steps of the Revolution. — 
 Their progressive Deterioration. — Moral Law of 
 Nature to which these Changes were subject- 
 ed. 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1794. 
 
 Comparative Situation of France and England at the 
 Opening of this Year. — Debates on the Continu- 
 ance of the War in Parhament. — Naval Opera- 
 tions. — Lord Howe's Victory on 1st June. — Vast 
 Preparations of France for the Campaign. — Suc- 
 cess in the Outset of the Alhes. — Bloody but inde- 
 cisive Actions along the whole Line. — Separation 
 of the Austrians and English, and secret Resolu- 
 tion of the Former to abandon Flanders. — Battle 
 of Fleurus. — Retreat of English towards Holland : 
 of Imperialists to the Rhine. — Savage Orders of 
 the Convention. — Campaign in the Maritime Alps 
 and in the Pyrenees. — Retreat of the Enghsh into 
 Holland.— Advances of the Republicans to Am- 
 sterdam in the Depth of Winter. — Alhes driven 
 over the Rhine into Germany. — Renewal of the 
 War in La Vendee, and Rise of the Chouan 
 Corps. 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 WAR IN POLAND. 
 
 Situation of the Country of Poland. — Early Charac- 
 ter of its Inhabitants. — Causes which led to their 
 singular Prejudices and Institutions. — Ruinous 
 Democratic Privileges of the Plebeian Noblesse. 
 — Sketch of their Constitution.— Its History and 
 continual Deterioration. — John Sobieski. — His re- 
 markable Prophecy on the future Fate of his Coun- 
 try. — Increasing Weakness of the State. — Insur- 
 rection under Kosciusko. — Its early Success, and 
 ultimate Overthrow. — Storming of Warsaw by 
 Suwarrow, and hnal Partition of Poland.— Causes 
 which led to this Catastrophe. — Prejudicial Eflect 
 of the ambitious Views of the Allies on Poland, 
 upon the Coalition against France. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1795. 
 
 Peace between France and Prussia. — Fresh Treaties 
 between England and Austria and Russia. — Argu- 
 ments used in Parliament and elsewhere for and 
 against the Continuance of the War. — Operations 
 in the Maritime Alps. — Decisive Battle of Loano. 
 — Campaign in the Eastern and Western Pyre- 
 nees, which terminates in the Submission of Spain, 
 and a treaty with France. — Pacification of La 
 Vendee. — Expedition to Quiberon Bay. — It lands, 
 and terminates in Disaster. — Massacre of the Pris- 
 oners there by the RepubUcans. — Campaign on 
 the Rhine. — Fall of Luxembourg. — Able Oper- 
 ations of Clairfait at the Lines of Mayence. — De- 
 clining Situation of the Republican Affairs in every 
 Quarter, and internal Exhaustion of the Coun- 
 try. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FRENCH REPUBLIC, FROM THE FALL OF ROBES- 
 PIERRE TO THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE DIRECT- 
 ORY. 
 
 General Reaction against the Reign of Terror after 
 the Fall of Robespierre. — Rise of the Thermidori- 
 ans and the Jeunesse Doree. — Their Contests with 
 
 the Revolutionists. — Closing of the Hall of the 
 Jacobins. — Manners and Ideas at Paris during that 
 Period. — Gradual Abolition of the Revolutionary 
 Measures. — Impeachment of the remaining Jaco- 
 bin Leaders. — Revolt in Paris in Consequence. 
 
 Convention Besieged. — The Insurgents are at 
 length Defeated. — Disarming of the Fauxbourgs. 
 — Abolition of the Revolutionary Tribunal. — Reac- 
 tion in the South of France. — Liberation of the 
 Duchess d'Angouleme. — Formation of a Constitu- 
 tion. — Its principal Features.— The Project of re- 
 appointing two thirds of the Convention occasions 
 great Discontent in Paris. — Rapid Progress of 
 Royalist Principles. — Agitation in the Capital. — 
 Revolt of the Sections. — At first nearly success- 
 ful, but is at length defeated by Napoleon. — For- 
 mation of the Council of the Ancients and the 
 Five Hundred. — Causes of the Disasters of the 
 Revolution. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1796 IN ITALY. 
 
 Birth, Education, and Character of Napoleon. — His 
 first Service in Corsica and at Toulon. — Mar- 
 riage with Josepliine, and Share in the 13th Ven- 
 deniiaire. — Character of the early Lieutenants of 
 Napoleon, and Commencement of the Italian Cam- 
 paign. — Battles of Montenotte, MiUesimo, Dego, 
 and Peace with Piedmont. — Passage of the Bridge 
 of Lodi, and Fall of Milan. — Napoleon advances 
 towards the Venitian Frontier. — Siege of Mantua. 
 — Advance of Wurmser to raise the Siege, and 
 Battle of Castiglione. — Second Advance of Wurm- 
 ser. — His desperate Actions, and Entrance into 
 that Fortress. — Third Advance of the Austrians 
 under Alvinzi. — Battles of Caldiero and Areola. — 
 Fourth Effort of the Imperialists. — Battles of Ri- 
 voli and Mantua. — Fall of Mantua. — Treaty of 
 Tolentino, and Peace with the Ecclesiastical 
 States. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 CAMPAIGN OP 1796 IN GERMANY. 
 
 Parliamentary Proceedings in England during the 
 year 1796. — Termination of the War in La Vendee. 
 — Capture and Death of Charette. — War in Ger- 
 many. — Advance of Moreau across the Black For- 
 est into Bavaria, and of Jourdan from the Lower 
 Rhine into Franconia. — Retreat and able Design 
 of the Archduke Charles to defeat the Invasion. — • 
 He attacks and overwhelms Jourdan, who is driv- 
 en back with great Loss to the Rhine. — Retreat 
 of Moreau through the Black Forest to the Rhine. 
 — Sieges of Kehl and Huningen. — Maritime and 
 Colonial Successes of England. — Dispersion of 
 the French Expechtion, under Hoche, on the Coast 
 of Ireland. — Death and Character of Catharine of 
 Russia, and Retirement and Character of Wash- 
 ington in America. 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 INTERNAL TRANSACTIONS AND NAVAL CAMPAIGN OP 
 GREAT BRITAIN IN 1797. 
 
 DifBculties of England in the Commencement of 
 this Year. — Suspension of Cash Payments. — De- 
 bates on Reform.^ — Supplies for the Year. — Mutiny 
 in the Fleet. — Battles of St. Vincent's and Camper- 
 down. — Character of Nelson. — Death and Charac- 
 ter of Mr. Burke. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1797. — FALL OF VENICE. 
 
 Napoleon prepares to Invade Austria over the Noric 
 Alps. — Battle of the Tagliamento, and Retreat of 
 the Archduke Charles. — Succession of Defeats, 
 till the Imperialists are driven back to Carinthia. 
 — Annistice of Leoben. — Disturbances in the Ve- 
 nitian Territories, and perfidious Conduct of 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 France towards that Ropublic. — Overthrow and 
 Fall of Venice. — Operations on the Upper and 
 Lower Rhine previous to the Armistice. — Genoa 
 is Revolutionized. — Treaty of Canipo Formio, and 
 Perfidy of Napoleon. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 INTERNAL GOVERN.MENT OF FRANCE, PROM THE 
 ESTABLISHMENT OF THE DIRECTORY TO THE REV- 
 OLUTION OF 18tH FRUCTIUOR. 
 
 Character and first Measures of the Directory after 
 their Installation into Office. — Manners and prev- 
 alent Ideas in the French Capital after the Reign 
 of Terror. — Gradual Return by the Directory to a 
 regular System of Government.— Assignats. — Fi- 
 nancial Embarrassments. — National Bankruptcy 
 at length openly declared, and PubUc Funds con- 
 fiscated. — Conspiracy of Baboeuf. — Its Objects and 
 Overthrow. — General Reaction in Favour of Roy- 
 ahst Principles, and its Inlluence in the Legisla- 
 ture.— Club of Clichy.— The Majority of the Di- 
 rectory call in the Aid ol the Army. — Measures of 
 Napoleon and Augereau for their Support. — Rev- 
 olution of 18th Fructidor brought about at Paris. 
 — Cruel and Despotic Measures of the victorious 
 Party. — Banishment of the Royalist Leaders to 
 Siimamari. — Their Sufferings and Death. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 
 
 Importance of Egypt in a Political, Commercial, and 
 Geographical Point of View.— Journey of Napole- 
 on to Rastadt and Paris. — His Reception there. — 
 Preparations for the Egj'ptian Expedition. — Voy- 
 age to Malta, wliich capitulates. — Landing of the 
 French Army in Egypt, and Advance to Alex- 
 andria and Cairo. — Battle of the Pyramids, and 
 Civil Government of Napoleon. — Movements of 
 Nelson.— Battle of the Nile. — AUiance of Turkey 
 and Russia. — Expedition of Desais into Upper 
 Egypt. — Expedition into SjTia. — Siege of Acre, 
 and Battle of Mount Thabor. — Defeat of the French 
 at Acre, and their Retreat to Egypt. — Battle of 
 Aboukir, and total Defeat of the Turks. — Na- 
 poleon secretly sails from Alexandria. — Touches 
 at Corsica, and lands in safety at Frejus in 
 France. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 FROM THE PEACE OF CAMPIO FORMIO TO THE RE- 
 NEWAL OF THE WAR. 
 
 Domestic History of Great Britain in 1798. — Estab- 
 lislunent of the Volunteer System. — Financial 
 Difficulties and National Bankruptcy of France. — 
 Revolution effected by French Influence in Hol- 
 land. — Measures of the French to overturn the In- 
 dependence of Switzerland. — Convulsions and 
 Conquest of that Confederacy. — Massacre at 
 Schwytz and in Underwalden' — Occupation of 
 the Orisons by Austria. — Insidious Attack on the 
 Papal States. — Overthrow of the Papal Govern- 
 ment, and Establishment of the Roman Republic. 
 — Infamous Spohation of Rome by the French Au- 
 thorities. — Overthrow of the Constitution of the 
 Cisalpine RepubUc by the French. — Humiliation 
 and Abdication of the King of Sardmia. — Invasion 
 of the Roman Provinces by the Neapolitan Troops. 
 — Their Defeat, and the consequent Overthrow 
 and Conquest of Naples. — Estabhshment of the 
 Parthenopeian Republic. — State of Ireland. — Ori- 
 gin, Progress, and Defeat of the RebeUion in that 
 Country. — Collision of France with the United 
 States of America. — Negotiations at Rastadt and 
 Seltz. — Rupture of the Conferences, and Prepara- 
 tions of both Parties for War. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 CIVIL HISTORY OF FRANCE FROM THE REVOLUTION 
 18TH of FRUCTIDOR TO THE SEIZURE OF SUPREME 
 POWER BY NAPOLEON. 
 
 Progressive Reaction in France against the Govern- 
 ment established by the 18th Fructidor. — At length 
 the Malecontents get the Command of the Coun- 
 cils. — Revolution of 13th Prairial in Consequence. 
 — Disturbed and miserable State of France. — Uni- 
 versal Enthusiasm excited by the Arrival of Napo- 
 leon. — His profound Dissimulation and able Con- 
 duct. —League of all Parties to support him. — 
 Revolution of 18th Brumaire. — Violent Dissolu- 
 tion of the Legislature at St. Cloud on the 19th. — 
 Formation of a new Constitution, and Appoint- 
 ment of Napoleon as First Consul. — Its general 
 Approval by the People. — Reflections on this Ter- 
 mination of the Revolution in Military Despo- 
 tism. 
 
PRELIMINARY. 
 
 To abridge the referencps in this work, tlie authorities habitually quoted arc in general condensed at the 
 loot of each column in an abbreviated form. The authors referred to, with the edition and modes of ref- 
 erence employed, are as follow : 
 
 Ann. Reg., xxxi., or by the year, as 1800, 147. 
 Dodsley's Annual Register, London, v., y. 73. 
 
 Arch. Ch., ii., 17. Archduke Charles, die Ges- 
 chichte des Feldzugs, 1790, 3 vols., Vienne et Paris, 
 1817. 
 
 Archduke Charles, die Geschichte des Feldzuges 
 in Deutchland und in der ydiweiz, 1799, Vienna, 
 1820. 
 
 Arch. Cur., xiv., 321. Archives Curieuses de I'His- 
 toire de France, third series, 15 vols., Paris, 1836- 
 41. 
 
 Artaud, i., 397. Artaud, Vie du Pape Pie VII., 
 2 vols., Paris, 1837. 
 
 Aub., ii., It). Auber's Rise and Progress of the 
 British Power in India, 2 vols., London, 1837. 
 
 Autoin., i., 17. Autoinarchi, Derniers Jours de 
 Napoleon, 2 vols., Paris, 1824. 
 
 Habouef , ii., 32. Conspiration de Baboueff, par 
 Buonarotti, 2 vols., Bruxelles, 1828. 
 
 Haird, i., 79. Life and Correspondence of Sir Da- 
 vid Baird, London, 18.32, 2 vols. 
 
 Haraiite, iii., 372. Barante, Histoire des Dues de 
 Burgogne, 10 vols., Paris, 1819. 
 
 Barrow, 18.). Barrow's Life of Howe, London, 
 1838. 
 
 Barth., 1 17. Der Krieg gegen der Tyroles Land- 
 leiUe in Jahr 1809, von J. L. S. Bartholdy, Berlin, 
 1814. 
 
 Beauch., iv., 331. Beauchamp's Hist, des Guerres 
 de la Vendee, 4 vols., Paris, 1820. 
 
 , ii., 221. Beauchamp, Histoire de la 
 
 Guerre en France pendant I'annee 1814 et 1815, 4 
 vols.. Pans, 1816. 
 
 Belm., ii., 130. Belmas, Jouniaux des Sieges de 
 la Peiimsule, 4 vols., Paris, 1837. 
 
 Benson, 121. Benson's Corsica, 1 vol. 
 
 Berth., 179. Berthier, Hist, de I'Exped. d'Egvpt, 
 Pans, 1828. 
 
 Bign., iii., 27. Bignon, Hist, de France depuis le 
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 Brent., li., 217. Brenton's Naval History, 2 vols., 
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 Brissot, ii., 129. Memoires de Brissot, 4 vols.. 
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 Buckingiiam, i., 213. Buckingham's Travels in 
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 Burke's Speech., i., 24. Burke's Speeches, 3 
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 Cab., 132. Cabanes, Guerre de Catalogne, Mad- 
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 Cap., vi., 21. Capefigue, Hist, de la Restauration, 
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 Caul, ii., 31. Souvenir du Due de Vicenze (Cau- 
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 Chalm., 349. Chalmers's Wealth, Power, and 
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 Chamb., iii., 189. Chambray, Hi.stoire de rExp6- 
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 Chat., Cong, de Verone, ii., 231. Congres de Ve- 
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 Chateaub., vii., 132. Chateaubriand, CEuvres de, 
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 , Etud. Hist., ii., 79. Chateaubriand, 
 
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 Clery, 142. Memoires de Clery sur la Captivite de 
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 Coll., i., 127. Memoirs of Lord ColUngwood, 2 
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 Comptes Rendus, i., 217. Comptes Rendus de 
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 Condorcet, ii., 115. Memoires de Condorcet, 2 
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 ■Cont. Rev. de 1830, ii., 171. Louis Philippe et le 
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PRELIMINARY. 
 
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 L'Europe et I'Amerique, 2 vols., Paris, 
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 Congres de I'Aix de la Chapelle, 1 vol.. 
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 La France, I'Emigration et les Colonies, 2 
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 Vrai Systfeme de I'Europe, 1 vol., Paris, 
 1825. 
 Session de 1817, Paris, 1817. 
 Histoire de I'Anibassade de Varsovie, Paris, 
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 Precis de Paris, 1820. 
 Suite des Quatre Concordats, Paris, 1820. 
 L'Europe et I'Amerique m 1822, 1823, 2 
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 Dum., vii., 34. Precis des Evenements Militaires, 
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 Dum., Souv.,ii.,231. Souvenirs du Gen. Mathieu 
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 Goldsmidt, iv., 621. Goldsmidt, Cours. Politique % 
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 Gordon, i., 217. Gordon's History of the Greek 
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 Graham, 112. Maria Graham's Journal of a Resi- 
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 Hist. Pari, de la Rev. Histoire Parliamentaire de 
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PRELIMINARY. 
 
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 , Histoire de la Revolution, 
 
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 , i., 321. Napier's Peninsular War, 4 vols. 8vo, 
 
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 , Dern. Vues, 327. Neckar, Dernieres Vues 
 
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PRELIMINARY. 
 
 Pari. Deb., 942. Hansard's Parliamentary De- 
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 Pebrer, 172. Pebrer's Statistics of the whole Brit- 
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 , Vict, de la Rev. Prudhomme, Victimes 
 
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 , Barbaroux, 39. Memoires De Barba- 
 
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 , Besenval, 230. Du Baron Besenval. 
 
 , Bouille, ii., 112. De Lieut.-General 
 
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 -, Bonchamps, 39. De Madame Bon- 
 
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 -, Camp., ii., 79. De Madame Campan, 
 
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 , Camot, 37. Sur Camot. 
 
 , Dusaubc, 117. De Dusaulx, sur le 14 
 
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 -, Dum., iv., 179. Du General Dumou- 
 
 -, Doppet, 113. Du General Doppet, sur 
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 , Ferrieres, ii., 231. Memoires du Mar- 
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 , Guillon, ii., 173. De I'Abbe GuiUon 
 
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 , Guerres de Vend. Memoires sur la 
 
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 , Garat, 110. De Garat sur la Revolu- 
 
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 -, Ling., 271. De Linguet sur la Bas- 
 
 -, La Rochejaquelein, 117. De Madame 
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 , Louvet, 12. De Louvet, Membre de 
 
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 , Rioufle, 57. De Rioufle sur les Pris- 
 
 -, Rivarol, 72. De Rivarol. 
 
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 , Sapinaud, 119. De Mad. Sapinaud. 
 
 ■, Thib., iL, 115. De Thibaudeau sur 
 
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 Du General Tur- 
 
 reau sur la Guerre de la Vendee, 2 vols. 
 
 , Weber, ii., 272. De Weber concer- 
 
 nant la Reine Antoinette, 2 vols. 
 
 Robertson's Charles V., i., 231. Robertson's 
 Charles V., 4 vols., London, 1818. 
 
 Rob., ii., 124. Memoires de Robespierre, 2 vols., 
 Paris, 1830. 
 
 Roc, 319. Rocca, Memoires sur la Guerre des 
 Fran(;ois en Espagne, London, 1815. 
 
 Rogn., 132. Considerations sur I'Art de la Guerre, 
 Paris, 1815. 
 
 , 36. Rogniat, Relation des Sieges de Sara- 
 
 gosse et de Tortose, Paris, 1814. 
 
 Romilly, i., 182. Roniilly's Speeches, 2 vols., Lon- 
 don, 1820. 
 
 Rozet, i., 27. Rozet, Chronique de Juillet, 1830, 
 Pans, 1833, 2 vols. 
 
 Rulh., li., 24. Histoire de la Pologne, par Rul- 
 hiere, Paris, 1820, 5 vols. 
 
 Saalf, i., 217. Saalfield, Algemeine Geschichte 
 der Neusten Zeit, Leipsic, 1819, 5 vols. 
 
 Salv., ii., 172. Salvandy, Histoire de la Pologne, 
 3 vols., Paris, 1829. 
 
 Sarrazin, 342. Histoire de la Guerre de la Res- 
 tauration, par M. Sarrazin, Paris, 1816. 
 
 — — — , Histoire de la Guerre d'Espagne, Paris, 
 
 1816. 
 
 , D'Allemagne, Paris, 1816. 
 
 Sav., ii., 97. Memoires de Savary, Due de Ro\'i- 
 go, 4 vols., London, 1827-1828. 
 
 Schep., ii., 424. Schepeles, Guerre d'Espagne, 4 
 vols., Liege, 1829. 
 
 Scher., 342. Scherer's Life of the Duke of Wel- 
 lington, London, 1832. 
 
 Schoell, ii., 221. Recueil des Pieces Officielles 
 sur les Evenements qui se sont passes depuis quel- 
 ques annees, par Fred. Schoell, Paris, 1814, 9 vols. 
 
 , Tr. de Paix, vii., 239. Abrege des Traites 
 
 de Paix, 15 vols., Paris, 1818. 
 
 Scott, i., 42. Sir Walter Scott's Life of Napoleon, 
 9 vols., Edinburgh, 1828. 
 
 Seg., i., 231. Segur (le Pere), Memoires, 3 vols., 
 Paris, 1824. 
 
 , Tab., ii., 172. Segur (le Pere), Tableau His- 
 torique et Pohtique de I'Europe, 1786-1796, 3 vols., 
 Pans, 1803. 
 
 , ii., 117. Segur, Campagne de 1812, 2 vols., 
 
 Paris, 1825. 
 
 Segur, Tab., ii., 241. Tableau Historique et Po- 
 litique de I'Europe, depuis 1786 jusqu'a 1796, 3 vols., 
 Paris, 1803. 
 
 Sherid., ii., 127. Sheridan's Speeches, 5 vols., 
 London, 1816. 
 
 Sism., Rep. Ital., xiii., 24. Sismondi, Hist, des 
 Republiques Italiennes, 16 vols., Paris, 1815. 
 
 , Hist, de France, ix., 220. Sismondi, Hist. 
 
 de France, Paris, 1824-1835, 18 vols. 
 
 Slade, i., 217. Travels in Turkey, by Adolphus 
 Slade, 2 vols., London, 1831. 
 
 Soul., ii., 317. Soulavie, M^m. Hist, et Pol. de 
 France, 6 vols. 
 
 South Amer. Rev., 127. Outline of the Revolu- 
 tion in South America, London, 1817. 
 
 South., iii., 371. Southey's Peninsular War, 4 
 vols. 8vo, London, 1827. 
 
 ■ -, ii., 17. Southey's Life of Nelson, 2 vols., 
 
 London, 1814. 
 
 Stael, Rev. Fran(;., ii., 221. Madame de Stael, 
 Revolution Fran^ais, 3 vols., London, 1818. 
 
 Stut., Guerre de 1809, en Allemagne, par Stutter- 
 heiiu, Vienna, 1816. 
 
PRELIMINARY. 
 
 XI 
 
 Stut., Bataille d'Austerlitz, Paris, 1809. 
 
 Such., Cons. Sur. Considerations Miiitaires, sur 
 !es Memoires de Marechai Suchct, sur la balaille de 
 Toulouse, par Choumara, Paris, 1838. 
 
 Stacl, 172. Madame de Stael, Dix Annecs d'Exil, 
 Paris, 1817. 
 
 , Baron de, ii., 71. Caron de Stael, Q^uvres, 
 
 3 vols., Paris, 1825. 
 
 Stor. di Pont, di Pio VII., ii., 317. Storia di Pon- 
 tificato di Pio Pape VII., 1806-1814, 2 vols., Rome, 
 1815. 
 
 St. (-yr, i., 117. St. Cyr, Guerres de 1702-1797, 4 
 vols., Paris, 1829. 
 
 , ii., 427. St. Cyr, Hist. Mil., 1799-1813, 4 
 
 vols., Paris, 1831. 
 
 ■-, 127. St. Cyr, Guerre en Catalogue, Par- 
 
 17. Suchct, Memoires, 2 vols., Paris, 
 112. Sully, Memoires, 5 vols., Paris, 
 Tableau de la Revolution, 3 vols. 
 
 is, 1829. 
 
 Such., ii 
 182G. 
 
 Sully, v. 
 1817. 
 
 Tab. de la Rev. 
 folio, Paris, 1804. 
 
 Thieb., 127. Thiebault, Relation de la Siege de 
 Genes, 1 vol., Paris, 1818. 
 
 , 321. Thiebault, Relation de I'E.xpedition 
 
 en Portugal, 1 vol., Paris. 
 
 Thib., 312. Tliibaudeau, Memoires sur le Consu- 
 lat. Paris, 1824. 
 
 , vi., 142. Thibaudeau, Histoire de France 
 
 pendant la Revolution et I'Empire, 10 vols., Paris, 
 1835. 
 
 Thierry, iii., 79. Thierry, Histoire de la Conqu^te 
 de I'Angleterre par les Normands, 4 vols., Paris, 1824. 
 
 , Histoire des Gaulois, 3 vols., Paris, 1827. 
 
 Tchichagoft', 79. Tchichagoff, Retreat of Napo- 
 leon, London, 1817. 
 
 Th., ix., 179. Thiers, Hist, de la Revolution Fran- 
 ^aise, 10 vols., Paris, 1828. 
 
 Toml., ii., 271. Tomline's Life of Pitt, C vols. 8vo, 
 London, 1815. 
 
 Toul., vii., 397. Toulangeon, Hist, de la Revol. 
 Franijaisc, 7 vols., Paris, 1810. 
 
 Tor., iii., 340. Histoire de la Revolution d'Es- 
 pagne, par le Comte Torcno, 6 vols., Paris, 1838. 
 
 'I'urgot, ii., 32. Turgot, (Euvres, 8 vols., Paris, 
 1814. 
 
 Turner's Anglo-Saxons, ii., 172. Turner's History 
 of the Anglo-Saxons, 3 vols., London, 1819. 
 
 Eng. Hist. Turner's History of Eng- 
 land, 10 vols., London, 1822-1829. 
 
 Tytler, hi., 421. Tytler's History of Scotland, 8 
 vols., Edinburgh, 1827-1834. 
 
 Urquhart, 241. Urquhart's Obsers'ations on Eu- 
 ropean Turkey, London, 1829. 
 
 Urquh., i., 23. Spirit of the East, 2 vols., London, 
 1838. 
 
 , i., 23. La Vcrite sur les Cent Jours. 
 
 Val., 242. Guerres des Russes contre les Turcs, 
 1808-1812, par le General Valentini, Beriin, 1830. 
 
 Vict, et Conq., xviii., 187. Victoires et Conquetes 
 des Franc^ois de 1792-1815, 26 vols., Paris, 1820-24. 
 
 Vilm., 1., 131. Vilinain, Histoire de la Litterature 
 Frangaise dans le 18 siecle, 7 vols., Paris, 1829. 
 
 Walsh, 272. Walsh's Journey to Constantinople, 
 London, 1824. 
 
 Well., Field Orders. Field Orders of the Duke of 
 Wellington, London, 1830. 
 
 , Desp., v., 137. Dc-spatches of Marquis Wel- 
 
 lesley, 5 vols., London, 1836. 
 
 Wilson, 32. Sir Robert Wilson's War in Poland 
 in 180G, 4to, London, 1810. 
 
 , 49. Sir Robert AVilson's Egyptian Ex- 
 pedition, 4to, London, 1804. 
 
 , 42. Sir Robert Wilson on the Power of 
 
 Russia, London, 1817. 
 
 Windh., IV., 182. Windham's Speeches, 3 vols., 
 London, 1812. 
 
 Wolfe Tone, i., 272. Life and Correspondence of 
 Wolfe Tone, 2 vols., London, 1827. 
 
 Young, 1., 571. Arthur V'ouiig's Travels in France 
 in 1789, 2 vols. 4to, London, 1703. 
 
 The other works occasionally referred to are described at length in the notes. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The History op Europe during the 
 French Revolution naturally divides itself 
 into four periods. 
 
 The first, commencing with the Convo- 
 cation of the States-General in 1789, termi- 
 nates with the execution of Louis, and the 
 establishment of a republic in France in 
 1793. This period embraces the history 
 and vast changes of the Constituent As- 
 sembly ; the revolt and overthrow of the 
 throne on the 10th of August ; the trial and 
 death of the king. It traces the changes 
 of public opinion and the fervour of inno- 
 vation, from their joyous commencement 
 to that bloody catastrophe, and the suc- 
 cessive steps by which the nation was led 
 from the transports of general philanthro- 
 py to the sombre ascendant of sanguinary 
 ambition. 
 
 The second opens with the strife of the 
 Girondists and the Jacobins ; and, after re- 
 counting the fall of the latter body, enters 
 upon the dreadful era of the Reign of Ter- 
 ror, and follows out the subsequent strug- 
 gles of the now exhausted factions till the 
 establishment of a regular military govern- 
 ment by the suppression of the revolt of 
 the National Guard of Paris in October, 
 1795. This period embraces the com- 
 mencement of the war ; the immense ex- 
 ertions of France during the campaign in 
 1793; the heroic contest in La Vendee; 
 the last efforts of Pohsh independence un- 
 der Kosciusko ; the conquest of Flanders 
 and Holland ; and the scientific manceu- 
 vres of the campaign of 1795. But its 
 most interesting part is the internal his- 
 tory of the Revolution ; the heart-rending 
 sufferings of persecuted virtue ; and the 
 means by which Providence caused the 
 guilt of the Revolutionists to work out 
 then- own deserved and memorable pun- 
 ishment. 
 
 The third, commencing with the rise of 
 Napoleon, terminates with the seizure of 
 the reins of power by that extraordinary 
 man, and the first pause in the general strife 
 by the peace of Amiens. It is singularly 
 rich in splendid achievements, embracing 
 the Italian campaigns of the French hero, 
 and the German ones of the Archduke 
 Charles ; the battles of St. Vincent, Cam- 
 perdown, and the Nile ; the expedition to 
 Egypt, the wars of Suwarrow in Italy, and 
 Massena on the Alps ; the campaig'ns of 
 Marengo and Hohenlinden ; the Northern 
 Coahtion, with its dissolution by the vic- 
 
 tory of Copenhagen ; the conquests of the 
 English in India, and the expulsion of the 
 French from Egypt. During this period, 
 the democratic passions of France had ex- 
 hausted themselves, and the nation groan- 
 ed under a weak but relentless military 
 despotism, whose external disasters and 
 internal severities prepared all classes to 
 range themselves round the banners of a 
 victorious chieftain. 
 
 The fourth opens with brighter auspices 
 to France, under the firm and able govern- 
 ment of Napoleon, and terminates with his 
 fall in 1815. Less illustrated than the for- 
 mer period by his military genius, it was 
 rendered still more memorable by his re- 
 sistless power and mighty achievements. 
 It embraces the campaigns of Austerlitz, 
 Jena, and Friedland ; the destruction of 
 the French navy at Trafalgar ; the rise of 
 the desperate struggle in Spain ; and the 
 gallant, though abortive, efforts of Austria 
 in 1809 ; the degradation and extinction of 
 the Papal authority ; the slow but steady 
 growth of the English military power in 
 the Peninsula, and the splendid career of 
 Wellington ; the general suffering under 
 the despotism of France ; the memorable 
 invasion of Russia ; the convulsive efforts 
 of Germany in 1813 ; the last campaign of 
 Napoleon, the capture of Paris, and his 
 final overthrow at Waterloo. 
 
 The first two periods illustrate the con- 
 sequences of democratic ascendency upon 
 the civil condition ; the last two, their ef- 
 fect upon the military struggles and exter- 
 nal relations of nations. In both, the op- 
 eration of the same law of nature may be 
 discerned, for the expulsion of a destruct- 
 ive passion from the frame of society, by 
 the efforts which it makes for its own grat- 
 ification ; in both, the principal actors were 
 overruled by an unseen power, which ren- 
 dered their vices and ambition the means 
 of ultimately effecting the deliverance of 
 mankind. Generations perished during.the 
 vast transition, but the law of nature was 
 unceasing in its operation ; and the same 
 principle which drove the government of 
 Robespierre through the Reign of Terror 
 to the 9th of Thermidor, impelled Napo- 
 leon to the snows of Russia and the rout 
 of W^aterloo. " Les hommes agitent," says 
 Bossuet, "mais Dieu les mene." The il- 
 lustrations of this moral law compose the 
 great lesson to be learned from the event- 
 ful scenes of this mighty drama. 
 
XIV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The first two periods form tlie subject 
 of about four hundred pages of the present 
 volume. The last two will be embraced 
 in those which are to follow. 
 
 A subject so splendid in itself, so full of 
 political and military instruction, replete 
 with such great and heroic actions, adorn- 
 ed by so many virtues, and darkened by so 
 many crimes, never yet fell to the lot of an 
 historian. During the twenty-five years 
 of its progress, the world has gone through 
 more than five hundred years of ordinary 
 existence ; and the annals of Modern Eu- 
 rope will be sought in vain for a parallel 
 to that brief period of anxious effort and 
 checkered achievement. 
 
 Although so short a time has elapsed 
 since the termination of these events, the 
 materials which have been collected for 
 their elucidation have already become, be- 
 yond all precedent, interesting and ample. 
 The great and varied ability which, since 
 the general peace, has been brought to 
 bear upon political and historical subjects 
 in France, has produced, besides many reg- 
 ular histories of extraordinary talent, a 
 crowd of memoirs of various authority, but 
 throwing, upon the whole, the fullest light 
 on the manners, feelings, and sufferings of 
 those troubled times. The previous state 
 of France, with the moral, political, and 
 financial causes which brought about the 
 Rovolution, are fully developed in the able 
 works of Rivarol, Neckar, and Madame de 
 Stael, and the luminous financial state- 
 ments of Caloijne, Neckar, and Arthur 
 Young. Nor are the materials for the his- 
 tory of the convulsion itself less abundant. 
 On the one hand, the faithful and impartial 
 narrative of M. Toulangeon, with the pro- 
 found works of Mignet and Thiers, have 
 done ample justice to the Republican side ; 
 while, on the other, the elaborate histo- 
 ries of Lacretelle and La Baume, with 
 the detached narratives of Chateaubriand, 
 Beauchamps, and Bertrand de MoUeville, 
 have fully illustrated the sufferings of 
 the Royalists during the progress of the 
 Revolution. The singular and interesting 
 events of Poland are fully detailed in the 
 able narrative of Rulhiere, and the elo- 
 quent pages of Salvandy. But the most 
 interesting record of those times is to be 
 found in the contemporary memoirs by the 
 principal sufferers during their continu- 
 ance, the best of which are to be met with 
 in the great collection, published at Paris, 
 of Revolutionary Memoirs, extending to six- 
 ty-six volumes, and embracing, among oth- 
 er authentic narratives, those of Bailly, 
 Rivarol, Riouffe, Barbaroux, Buzot, Con- 
 dorcet, INIadame Campan, Madame Roland, 
 Madame Larochejaquelein, Clery, Hue, 
 Carnot, Sapinaud, Thureau, Bonchamps, 
 Doppet, Abbe Guillon, Abbe Morellet, 
 Count Segur, General Kleber, M. Puisaye, 
 and many others. The Papiers Inediis de 
 
 Robespierre, and Correspondence du Comile 
 de Salut Puhlique, lately published at Paris, 
 are full of new and valuable information. 
 In the graphic History of the Convention, 
 too, recently published in the same capi- 
 tal, many vivid and striking pictures are to 
 be found evidently drawn from life ; while 
 the admirable sketches of Dumont, Brissot, 
 and Mounier convey the most faithful idea 
 of the early leaders of the Assembly, and 
 the singular memoirs of Levasseur de la 
 Sarthe furnish a portrait of the extreme 
 point of Jacobin extravagance. For the 
 memorable period of the Consulate, and 
 the character of the illustrious men who 
 were assembled round the throne of Na- 
 poleon, the memoirs of Thibaudeau, Gen- 
 eral Rapp, Bourrienne, Savary, Fouche, 
 Bausset, Caulaincourt, Gohier, and the 
 Duchess of Abrantes, have furnished an 
 inexhaustible mine of information, the au- 
 thenticity of which may in general be 
 judged of with tolerable accuracy by com- 
 paring these different narratives together. 
 But the most valuable authentic documents 
 during this period are to be found in the 
 ample volumes of the Moniteur, the great 
 quarry from which all subsequent compi- 
 lers have extracted their materials : in the 
 admirable Parliamentary of France, in for- 
 ty volumes, by Buchez and Roux, the most 
 interesting portions of which have been 
 well abridged in the Histoire de la Conven- 
 tion, in six volumes, by Leonard Gallois ; 
 and the Dehals de la Convention, forming 
 part of the Revolutionary Memoirs. 
 
 In military^ annals the materials are still 
 more ample. The great scientific historj^ 
 of General Jomini, in sixteen volumes, with 
 the lucid naiTatives of Marshal Jourdan, 
 Marshal St. Cyr, and General Dumourier, 
 leave nothing to be desired for the earlier 
 years of the war ; while the genius of Na- 
 poleon, as conspicuous in his memoirs as 
 his victories, throws a clear light over the 
 Italian campaigns, and renders it only a 
 matter of regret that his fidelity as an his- 
 torian was not equal to his ability as an 
 annalist. The Victories and Conquests 
 of the French Armies, in twenty-six vol- 
 umes, by Petitot, is a vast magazine of 
 valuable information, though sometimes 
 arranged with the partialities of a too de- 
 voted French patriot. The eloquent and 
 graphic narrative of General Mathieu Du- 
 mas, in eighteen volumes, commencing 
 with the first appearance of Suwarrow in 
 Italy, goes through the whole subsequent 
 German campaigns of Napoleon ; the his- 
 tories of Berthier and Regnier, with the 
 memoirs of Miot and the narrative of Sir 
 Robert Wilson, illustrate the brilliant epi- 
 sode of the Egyptian expedition ; while 
 on the side of the allies the works of the 
 Archduke Charles bear as high a charac- 
 ter for truth and integrity as mihtary abil- 
 ity ; the eloquent liistory of M. Botta 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XV 
 
 m;ikes us acquainted with the melancholy 
 catalogue of Italian sufferings ; the inter- 
 esting life of Pius VII., by Artaud, opens 
 up an interesting episode of Christian res- 
 ignation and firmness in the midst of such 
 a sea of blood ; and the memoirs and his- 
 tories of the Pnissian writers* supply all 
 that was wanting to complete their side of 
 the picture. 
 
 For the history of the Empire, no works 
 exist of equal ability or authority as those 
 regarding the Revolution ; but in many de- 
 tached publications, the principal facts of 
 importance are to be found. M. Bignon, 
 to whom Napoleon bequeathed, with a 
 large legacy, the duty of compiling the his- 
 tory of his diplomacy, has executed the 
 task, as far, at least, as 1S05, with much 
 ability, though a jaundiced and partial view 
 of Great Britain is to be discerned in all 
 his pages. M. Norvins, in an animated 
 and popular narrative, has comprised the 
 most picturesque events of the imperial 
 history, while the Abbe Montgaillard, in 
 his elaborate history, in twelve volumes, 
 with equal prejudice on the other side, has 
 accumulated many facts necessary to be 
 understood for a right understanding of the 
 imperial government. M. Thibaudeau has, 
 with great judgment and impartiality, treat- 
 ed, in his history of the Consulate and Em- 
 pire, in ten volumes, of the Avhole of Na- 
 poleon's reign. The negotiations with the 
 court of Rome are to be found record- 
 ed in the collections regarding the Italian 
 transactions, in three volumes, by Schoell, 
 the able work on the Concordates by the 
 Abbe du Pradt, and the valuable Memoirs 
 of Cardinal Pacca ; while the chief diplo- 
 matic papers of the period are collected in 
 the great works of Martens and Schoell, 
 each in twelve volumes, and in the valu- 
 able Recueil des Pieces Officiales, in nine 
 volumes, by the latter of these laborious 
 compilers. Goldsmith's Cours Politique et 
 Diplomatique de Napoleon, in seven volumes, 
 contains also a variety of documents, many 
 of which the imperial annalists would will- 
 ingly bury in oblivion. In the Biographie 
 TJnivcrselle also, edited by M. Michaud, in 
 fifty-two volumes, and its additions in the 
 Biographie Contemporaine, now in course 
 of publication at Paris, many interesting 
 particulars regarding the chief characters 
 during the Revolution and the Empire are 
 to be found scattered amid a profusion of 
 other and varied information. The mili- 
 tary events of the campaign of 1809 in Ger- 
 many are ably recorded in the works of 
 General Pelet, General Stutterheim, and 
 the Archduke John's Account of his Italian 
 Campaign; while the interesting Life of 
 Hofer, by Bartholdy, and the brilhant sketch 
 
 * Especially Prince Hardenbers?, in his highly in- 
 teresting and curious Mimoires d'un Hrmimv iVEtat, 
 with the brilliant sketch, by Sir Robert Wilson, of 
 the Pohsh campaign in 1807. 
 
 of the war in Tyrol, by Forster, convey as 
 vivid pictures of the astonishing efforts of 
 the inhabitants of that romantic region.* 
 
 As the contest advanced, and Great Brit- 
 ain was drawn as a principal into the Con- 
 tinental war, the materials for a general 
 history became still more ample. The in- 
 valuable record of the Duke of Wellington's 
 Despatches, in twelve volumes, contains 
 an authentic narrative of his Indian and 
 Peninsular campaigns, told with equal judg- 
 ment, penetration, and simplicity ; while 
 the Despatches of Marquis Wellesley shed 
 a clear light over the complicated maze of 
 Indian politics during the splendid period 
 of his administration. Mr. Southey's in- 
 comparable Life of Nelson contains all that 
 England could desire to have recorded of 
 her naval hero, while his History of the Pen- 
 insular War exhibits a heart-stirring narra- 
 tive of that memorable struggle. The de- 
 lightful memoirs of Lord Collingwood, with 
 the recent able lives of Howe, Earl St. 
 Vincent, Lord Exmouth, and Sir Henry 
 Blackwood, open up a fund of interesting 
 adventure in our naval transactions. But 
 with the glories of Wellington's campaigns 
 the name of Colonel Napier is indissolubly 
 united, and his glowing pages and scien- 
 tific reflections render it only an object of 
 regret that political feelings should some- 
 times have tinged with undue bias his oth- 
 erwise impartial military relation. Count 
 Toreno has, in an able work in six vol- 
 umes, given the Spanish account of the 
 whole Events of the Peninsular War. If 
 anything were wanting to complete the 
 picture, it would be found in the animated 
 narratives of Lord Londonderry, Colonel 
 Jones, Mr. Gleig, Captain Hamilton, and 
 Captain Scherer, whose works exhibit a 
 succession of sketches, so vivid and yet so 
 faithful, that the historian must be insensi- 
 ble indeed who does not partake in some 
 degree of their enthusiasm. 
 
 The French side of the Peninsular war 
 has not been so fully illustrated as their 
 other and more successful campaigns ; but 
 the impartial narrative of General Jomini, 
 with the detached works of General Foy, 
 Count Thiebault, M. Rocca, Marshal St. 
 Cyr, and Marshal Suchet, throw a clear 
 light over part, at least, of those complica- 
 ted events. The Journaux des Sieges dans 
 la Peninsule, by M. Belmas, recently pub- 
 lished in four volumes, by authority of the 
 French government, at Paris, is a work on 
 this subject of equal splendour and authen- 
 ticity. 
 
 For the memorable occurrences of the 
 Russian campaign, the eloquent and pic- 
 tured pages of Count Segur, Chambray, 
 Larrey, Baron Fain, and La Baume, cor- 
 rected by the details of General Gourgaud, 
 
 * Geschichte Andreas Hofer und Beitrage zurNeu- 
 eren Kriegsgeschichte, von Fredrich Forster, Ber- 
 lin, 1816. 
 
XVI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 the scientific sketch of General Jomini,* 
 and the luminous and impartial Russian 
 narrative of Coloiiol Boutourliii, furnish 
 ample materials. The campaign of 1813, 
 in Germany, has been equally illustrated 
 by the pens of La liaume. Generals Muf- 
 fling, Gneisenau, and Ikdow ; Baron Odc- 
 leben, Colonel Boutourlin, Baron Fain, 
 Lord Burghersh, and Lord Londonderry; 
 the graphic details of whose works are ad- 
 mirably condensed in the Precis dcs Evene- 
 mens Militaires en 1813, recently published 
 at Leipsic, in French and German ; while 
 to the last and greatest campaign of Na- 
 poleon, the vivid descriptions of Beau- 
 champs, La Baunie, and the able narra- 
 tives of Jomini and Baron Fain, have done 
 ample justice. No historian, however, can 
 have gone over the military events of the 
 Revolutionary war without having experi- 
 enced the benefit of the splendid Atlas and 
 accurate description of battles by Kausler, 
 in French and German; a work unparal- 
 leled in the amials of art, and which almost 
 brings the theatre of the principal battles 
 of the period before the eyes of the reader. 
 For the subsequent and proudest year of 
 England's achievements, the various ac- 
 counts of the battle of Waterloo, by Gen- 
 erals Gourgaud, Grouchie, and others, over 
 which the gifted mind of Sir Walter Scott 
 has throw^^ the light of his genius, fur- 
 nish inexhaustible resources, and close the 
 ■work with a ray of glorj^ to which there 
 is nothing comparable in her long and il- 
 lustrious amials. 
 
 In the description of the theatre of these 
 great events, the author, when he does not 
 quote authority, has in general proceeded 
 on his own observation. This is particu- 
 larly the case with the fields of Marengo, 
 Novi, Areola, Rivoli, Lodi, the Brenta, the 
 Trebia, the Tagliamento, Zurich, Ulm, Ech- 
 muhl, Hohenlinden, Salzburg, Jena, Auster- 
 litz, Aspern, Wagram, Dresden, Leipsic, 
 the Katzbach, Hanau, Laon, Brienne, Cra- 
 onne, Soissons, Paris, and Waterloo, the 
 passage of the St. Bernard, the St. Goth- 
 ard, and the Splugen ; and, in general, the 
 seat of war in 1796 and 1797, in the Alps 
 of Savoy, Switzerland, Tyrol, and Styria, 
 the theatre of Napoleon's and Suwarrow's 
 campaigns in Italy, those of the Archduke 
 Charles in Germany, the memorable strug- 
 gle of the Tyrolese in 1809, and of Napo- 
 leon's last efforts in the north of Germany 
 and France. He has not deemed it advi- 
 sable to accompany the work with maps, 
 as that renders it inaccessible to the gen- 
 erality of readers ; but those who are not 
 familiar with the places referred to, will 
 frequently find such a reference of great 
 service. 
 
 Every one who investigates the events 
 of this period, must be struc k with the 
 
 * In his Life of Napoleon, a work of extraordinary 
 ability and most impartial observation. 
 
 great inferiority, generally speaking, of the 
 English historians who treat of the same 
 subject. Till the era of the Peninsular 
 war, when a cluster of gifted spirits arose, 
 there are no writers on English affairs at 
 all comparable to the great historical au- 
 thors on the Continent. In this dearth of 
 native genius applied to this subject, it is 
 fortunate that a connected narrative of 
 events of varied ability, but continued in- 
 terest and extensive information, is to be 
 found in the Annual Register ; that the life 
 of Mr. Pitt by Gifford imbodies with dis- 
 criminating talent all the views of that 
 great statesman ; and his biography by 
 Tomline leads the reader only to regret 
 that it should terminate at the most event- 
 ful crisis of his administration ; while the 
 Parlia?nentari/ Debates through the whole 
 period, edited by Cobbett and Hansard, not 
 only contain most of the statistical details 
 of value to the historian, but all the argu- 
 ments urged, both in the legislature and 
 elsewhere, for and against the measures of 
 government. 
 
 An invaluable mass of statistical infor- 
 mation for the Avhole period is to be found 
 in the Parliamentary Reports, compiled with 
 so much care by the committees of both 
 houses of Parliament, and admirably di- 
 gested in the able works of Moreau and 
 Pebrer, as well as the elaborate oflficial 
 compilations of Porter ; an immense treas- 
 ure of important knowledge regarding our 
 colonies is to be found in Martin's valuable 
 Colonial History ; while, for the details of 
 our naval forces and successes, ample ma- 
 terials are to be found in the minute and 
 elaborate work of Mr. James, and the able 
 but less accurate history of Captain Bren- 
 ton. 
 
 While justice requires, however, that 
 this general praise should be bestowed on 
 the Continental writers w^ho have treated 
 of this period, there is one particular which 
 it is impossible to pass over without an 
 expression of a different kind. Of what- 
 ever party, nation, or shade of opinion, 
 they seem all at bottom imbued with a pro- 
 found hatred at this country, and, in con- 
 sequence, they generally ascribe to the 
 British cabinet a dark or Machiavelian 
 policy, in matters where it is well known 
 to every person in England, and will be ob- 
 vious to posterity, they were regulated by 
 very different motives, and often proceed- 
 ed, from inexperience of warlike meas- 
 ures, without any fixed principle at all. 
 The existence of so general and unfounded 
 a prejudice in so many authors of such 
 great and varied ability, would be inexpli- 
 cable, if we did not reflect on the splendid 
 post which England occupied throughout 
 the whole struggle, and recollect, that in 
 nations equally as individuals, the confer- 
 ring of obligations too often engenders no 
 other feehng but that of antipathy ; that 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 no compliment is so flattering, because 
 none is so sincere, as tlio vituperation of 
 an adversary wlio lias been insjiireil witii 
 dread; and that, though the sueeessiul par- 
 ty in a strife is always secretly liatt(^red 
 by the praises bestowed on his antagonists, 
 it is too nuich to expect of human magna- 
 nimity a similar feeling in those to whom 
 fortune has proved adverse. 
 
 The events of this period, (^speeiallj' 
 tluring the earlier years of the Kevolution, 
 are so extensive and complicated, that the 
 only way in which it ai)peared possible to 
 give a clear narrative was to treat in sep- 
 arate chapters of the civil and military 
 transactions, and in many cases to break 
 into diOerent ones the events of a single 
 campaign. In this way, the order of chro- 
 nology has not, in every instance, been 
 strictly followed ; and the same events re- 
 quired to be soinetimes mentioned twice 
 over, once as affecting tlie civil history of 
 the times, and again as forming part of 
 their military annals. This inconvenience, 
 however, was unavoidable, and is a trifling 
 disadvantage, compared to tlie benefit ari- 
 sing from following out a certain set ot 
 transactions, without interruption, io tlieir 
 termination. 
 
 In treating of a subject of such extent, 
 embracing so great a variety of events, and 
 involving almost all the points now in dis- 
 pute between the two great parties who 
 divide the world, it appeared advisable to 
 the author, with a view both to iniparti- 
 ality and liistorical fidelity, to adopt two 
 rules, which have been faitlifully adhered 
 to throughout the whole work. 
 
 The first of these was to give, on every 
 occasion, the authorities, by volume and 
 page, from which the statement in the 
 text was taken. This lias been carried to 
 an unusual, some may think an unneces- 
 sary length, as not only are the authori- 
 ties for every parngraph invariably given, 
 but in many instances, also, those for ev- 
 ery sentence have been accumulated in 
 the notes. Tiiis appeared indispensable in 
 treating of subjects on Avhich men are so 
 much divided, not only by national, but po- 
 litical prejudices, and in which every state- 
 ment not supported by unquestionable au- 
 thority would be liable to be called in 
 question or discredited. For the same 
 reason, care has been taken to quote a 
 preponderance of authoritjs in every in- 
 stance where it was possible, from writers 
 on the opposite side from that which an 
 EngUsh historian, surveying events with 
 the feelings which attachment to a con- 
 stitutional monarchy produces, may be 
 supposed to adopt ; and the reader will find 
 every fact almost, in the internal history 
 of the Kevolution, supported by two Re- 
 publican and one Royalist authority, and 
 every event in the military narrative drawn 
 from at least two writers on the part of 
 Vol,. T.— C 
 
 the French, and one on that of their oppo- 
 nents. 
 
 The second n\\e adopted was to give the 
 arguments for and against every public 
 measure, in the words of those who origi- 
 nally brought them forward, without any 
 attempt at paraphrase or abridgment. 
 This is more particularly the case in the de- 
 bates of the National Assembly of France, 
 the Parliament of Fngland, and the Coun- 
 cil of State under Napoleo/i ; and in effect- 
 ing the selection, the autlior h;Ls been most 
 forcibly impressed witli the prodigious, 
 though often perverted and mistaken abil- 
 ity, which distinguished those memorable 
 discussions. T'here can be no doubt that, 
 in thus presenting the speeches in the 
 words of the real actors on the political 
 stage, the work has assumed, in the first 
 volumes, a dramatic air, unusual at least in 
 modern histories ; but it is the only method 
 by which the spirit and feelings of the mo- 
 nient could be faithfully transmitted to pos- 
 terity, or justice done to the motives, on 
 cither side, which influenced mankind ; and 
 a modern author need not hesitate to fol- 
 low an example Avliich has been set by 
 Tliucydides, Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus. 
 
 It seemed advisable to adopt this plan . 
 for another reason. Tlie course of a rev- 
 olution is so completely at variance with 
 the ordinary tenour of human events, and 
 the motives which then influence men are 
 so different from those which in general 
 obtain an ascendency, that, without the 
 running commentaiy of their own words, 
 it is impossible to do justice either to their 
 motives, or the great moral lessons to be 
 derived from their history. It is by com- 
 paring their words with tluMr actions only, 
 that the deceitful nature of the pa.ssions by 
 which they have been misled can be made 
 manifest, and the important truth demon- 
 strated, that nations, not less than individ- 
 uals, are seduced by alluring expressions ; 
 that it is in the name of humanity that 
 thousands are massacred, and under the 
 banners of freedom that the most grievous 
 despotism is established. 
 
 No attempt has been made, on any occa- 
 sion, to disguise the real opinion of the au- 
 thor ; but, on the contrary, the conclusions 
 which he thought fairly deducible from the 
 events Avhich were recounted have been 
 fully given, with the grounds on which 
 they are founded. At the same time, he 
 has exerted himself to the utmost to give 
 the arguments with force and accuracy, 
 which were advanced, or may be advan- 
 ced, for the opposite side of the question ; 
 and those who do not go along with these 
 conclusions, will find in the context the 
 materials for correcting them. 
 
 If there is any one opinion which, more 
 than another, is impressed on the mind by 
 a minute examination of the changes of 
 the French Revolution, it is the perilous 
 
xvin 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 nature of the ciUTcnt into wliicli men are 
 drawn who coinmit themselves to the 
 stream of pohtical innovation, and the 
 great difficulty experienced by tliose enga- 
 ged in the contest, even ll)ough gifted with 
 the greatest intellect and the inosL resolute 
 determination, of avoiding the coannission 
 of many crimes amid the stormy scentis 
 to which it rapidly brings them. It is not 
 difficult to perceive the final cause of this 
 law of Nature, or the important purpose it 
 is intended to serve in the moral govern- 
 ment of the world, by expelling from so- 
 ciety, througli the force of suffering, pas- 
 sions inconsistent with its existence ; but 
 it is a consideration of all others the best 
 calculated to inspire forbearance and mod- 
 eration, in forming an opinion of the inten- 
 tions or actions of others placed in such 
 trying and calamitous circnmsuiuces, and 
 to exemphfy the justice of the sacred pre- 
 cept, " to judge of others as we would wish 
 they should judge of ourselves." Inexo- 
 rable and unbending, tiiereforc, in liis op- 
 position to false principles, it is the duty 
 of the historian of such times to be lenient 
 and considerate in his judgment of partic- 
 ular men ; and, touching lightly on the 
 weakness of such as are swept along by 
 ■ the waves, to reserve the weight of his 
 censure for tljose v.ho put the perilous tor- 
 rent in motion. 
 
 It is the duty of the historian, in recount- 
 ing the events of a period wlien great and 
 general public calamities have been produ- 
 ced by abuses of a protracted kind, or the 
 false application of principles which are 
 just to a limited extent, to put in as clear 
 a point of vicAV as possible the consequen- 
 ces of the errors, whether in government or 
 public opinion, which he is engaged in tra- 
 cing. The annals of Tacitus are justly 
 
 tory of the French Revolution alternately 
 directs the mind to both the great sources 
 of human oppression. Its earlier years 
 suggest at every page reilections on the 
 evils of political fanaticism, and the terri- 
 ble consequences of democratic fervour; 
 the latter on the debasing effects of abso- 
 lute despotism, and the sanguinary march 
 of military ambition. 
 
 The composition of the volumes now- 
 submitted to the public formed the recrea- 
 tion of many years, during the intervals of 
 laborious professional employments ; they 
 were completed before the second French 
 Revolution broke out, or any political chan- 
 ges were contemplated in this country. 
 The progress of domestic, as well as for- 
 eign changes, since that event, has given 
 the author no reason to doubt the sound- 
 ness of the conclusions drawn from the 
 composition of the annals of the first great 
 convulsion, and has inspired him with 
 gloomy presentiments as to the future fate 
 of his country ; but no person Avill more 
 sincerely rejoice than himself if the course 
 of time shall demonstrate that these fears 
 are ill founded, and that England has no 
 cause to apprehend danger from innova- 
 tions which proved so destructive to her 
 more impassioned rival. 
 
 Finally, when he looks back to the vast 
 theatre of splendid and heroic achieve- 
 ments which it is the object of these pages 
 to commemorate ; when he reflects on the 
 talent which has been exerted in the ac- 
 tions, and the genius which has been dis- 
 played in the narratives which are here 
 passed under review, the author cannot 
 but feel his ov%'n inadequacy to so great an 
 undertaking, or avoid giving expression to 
 tlie feeling, that if the work contains any 
 interest, it is in j-astice to be ascribed to 
 
 filled with indignant exclamations against i the virtue, the bravery, or ability of others, 
 
 the tyranny of the emperors and the deeay 
 of Roman virtue ; those of the religious 
 wars, with pictures of the ruinous conse- 
 quences of religious fanaticism. The his- 
 
 and that its numerous defects he can im- 
 pute to no one but himself. 
 
 A. ALISON. 
 January 21, 1833. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Iinpon'«n''e and Masiiificence of the Subject.— Comparison 
 of the Era nf IS^ipoleou with others iii the WorlJ.— Ex- 
 Iraoidiuary Varieties uf Character and Events which it 
 exhibited.— Causes of this Diversity.— Causes of the ear- 
 ly Ucpressiuu uf the Lower Orders, audcoiisei-iuciit uuiver- 
 saliiy of, and necessity for Slavery.— First Causes whicli 
 lead to Freedom. — The ludepcudence of Pastoral Life. — 
 The Security of WaJled Cities.— The Protection of Mount- 
 ain Ketreals. — Limited extent of Freedom in Ancient 
 Times.— DiU'ereut Policy of the Romans. — Its prodigious 
 Effects. — Irruption of the Northern Nations. — Its jjruat 
 Cousequences. — Lamentable Prostration of the Vaiupusli- 
 ed. — aeparatioa between the different Classes of Society 
 in Modern Times. — First Origin of Representative (iov- 
 ernments. — Causes which led to it m iModern Europe. — 
 They were taken from the Assemblies of the Church, and, 
 in consequence, were universally established in Europe. 
 — Fatal Uefecl of the Feudal System. — Causes of its De- 
 cay. — Its Decline in Spain, France, Germany, and Eng- 
 land. — It was only fitted for a barbarous Age. — Progress 
 of Urban Freedom in the South of Europe. — Rapid Rise 
 of the Urban Civilization of the Towns of Italy.- -Their 
 great and patriotic Kltbrts.— Causes of their Decline. — 
 Decline of Flemish Freedom. — Causes which restored 
 Liberty. — Influence of Christianity. — Art of Printing. — 
 Its vast Effects both in Good and Evil. — Discovery of 
 Gunpowder. — Its Influence on the Progress of Freedom, 
 and in Destroying the Power of the Nobility. — Increase 
 of Luxury tended to the same Effect. — Combination of 
 these Causes in inducing the French Revolution. 
 
 There are few periods in the history of tlie 
 world which can be compared, in point of inter- 
 est and importance, to that which embraces the 
 progress and termination of the French Revolu- 
 tion. In no former age were events of such 
 magnitude crowded together, or interests so mo- 
 mentous at issue between contending nations. 
 From the ilaine vrhich was kindled in Europe, 
 the whole world has been involved in conflagra- 
 tion, and a new era dawned upon both hemi- 
 spheres from the etfects of its expansion. With 
 the first rise of a free spirit in France, the liber- 
 ty of North America was established, and its 
 last exertions spread the discordant passion for 
 independence through the wide extent of its 
 Southern Continent. In the midst of a despe- 
 rate contest in Europe, the British Empire in 
 India has unceasingly extended, and the ancient 
 fabric of Hindu superstition yielded to the force 
 of European civilization. Though last tc be 
 reached by the destructive flame, the po-^ier ot 
 Russia has been infinitely extended by ;tie con- 
 tests in which she has been engaged; and the 
 dynasties of Asia can now hardly \iitlistand the 
 arms which the forces of Napoleon were unable 
 to subdue. Assailed by the energy of England 
 on the south and by the might of Kussia on the 
 north, the desolating reign of Mohaminedan op- 
 pression seems drawing to its close ; and from 
 the strife of European war two powers have 
 emerged, which appear destined to carry the 
 blessings of civilization and the light of religion 
 as far as the arm of conquest can reach or the 
 waters of the ocean extend. 
 
 In the former history of the world, different 
 eras are to be observed, which have always at- 
 tracted the attention of men, from the interest of 
 me events which they present, and the impor- 
 
 tance of the consequences to wliich they have 
 led. It is in the midst of the great- ^ 
 est struggles of the species that the otZTe"^"^ 
 lire has been struck which has most Napoleon 
 contributed to its improvement. In ^^■"'' others 
 the contest between Grecian freedom '"the world, 
 and Persian despotism, the genius was elicited 
 which has spread the spirit of philosophy and 
 the chartns of art throughout mankind;* in the 
 severer struggles between the Romans and Car- 
 thaginians, tnat unconquerable spirit was pro- 
 duced, which, in half a century, extended the 
 Roman Empire over the whole surface of the 
 civilized world; it was arnid the first combats 
 between the Mohammedans and the Christians 
 that the genius of modern Europe took its rise, 
 and ingrafted the refinements of ancient taste oa 
 the energy of barbarian valour ; from the wars 
 between the Moors and Spaniards, that the en- 
 terprise arose which burst the barriers of an- 
 cient knowledge, and opened to modern ambi- 
 tion the wonders of another hemisphere. The 
 era of Napoleon will be ranked by future ages 
 with those of Pericles, of Hannibal, and of the 
 Crusades, not merely from the splendour of tlie 
 events which it produced, but the magnitude of 
 the etfects by which it was followed. 
 
 Within the space of twenty years, events were 
 then accumulated, which would have filled the 
 whole annals of a powerful state, in any former 
 age, with instruction and interest. In that brief 
 period v.'ere successively presented the strug- 
 gles of an aged monarchy and the growth of a 
 fierce democracy; the energy of republican val- 
 our and the triumphs of imperial discipline; 
 the pride of barbarian conquest, and the glories 
 of patriotic resistance. In the rapid pages of 
 its histoiy ii'ill be found parallels to the long 
 annals of ancient greatness : the genius of Han- 
 nibal, aid tiie passions of Gracchus ; the ambi- 
 tion ri Csesar, and the splendour of Augustus ; 
 the triumphs of Trajan, and the disasters of Ju- 
 lian. The power of France was less durable 
 than that of Rome, only because it was more 
 oppressive; it was more stubbornly resisted, be- 
 cause it did not bring the blessings of civiliza- 
 tion on its wings. Its course was hailed by no 
 grateful nations, its progress marked by no ex- 
 perienced blessings ; unlike the beneficent sun 
 of Roman greatness, which shone only to im- 
 prove, its light, like the dazzling glare of the 
 meteor, " rolled, b.azed, destroyed, and was no 
 more." 
 
 Nor were the varieties of character which ap- 
 peared on the scene during tliose Extraordinary 
 eventtul years less deserving ot at- varieties of 
 tention. If the genius displayed character and 
 was unprecedented, so also was the events which 
 wickedness ; if history has little to " '^■"h'^'te'i- 
 show comparable to the triumphs that were 
 gained, it has no parallel to the crimes that were 
 coimnitted. The terrible severity of Danton, 
 
 * Polyb.. :. i.. c. I. 
 
so 
 
 INTllODUCTION. 
 
 the cowardly craelty of Robespierre, are as un- 
 exampled as the ini'litary jjenius of Napoleon or 
 the naval career of Nelson. If France may, 
 with reason, pride herself ujion the astonishinj,' 
 accumulation of talent which was brought to 
 bear upon the fortunes of the state during ilie 
 
 Srogress ol' th<! Revolution, she must share the 
 isgrace of the inhuman crimes which were 
 committed by its leaders, and borne by its sup- 
 porters among the ])eople. It is the peculiar 
 duty of the historian to preserve for future ad- 
 miration the virtues which adorned, and to con- 
 sign to eternal execration the vices which dis- 
 graced that eventful age : " Exsequi sententias 
 hand institui, nisi insignes per honestiam, aut 
 ilotabili dedecore ; quod pnecipuum munus an- 
 nalium reor, ne virtutes sileanlur, utque pravis 
 dictis factisque ex posteritate et infamia metus 
 sit. Ceteruni tempora ilia adeo infecta, ut non 
 modo priores civitatis, quibus claritudo sua ob- 
 sequiis protegenda erat, sed omnes consulares, 
 magna pars eorum qui pnstura fimcti, multique 
 etiam pedarii senatores, certatim exsurgerent 
 fcedaque et nimia censerent."* 
 . The peculiar virtues and character of all the 
 European nations were eminently exemplified 
 during those disastrous years. The obstinate 
 hostility of the Spaniards, the enthusiastic val- 
 our of the French, the ardent spirit of the Prus- 
 sians, the persevering steadiness of the Aus- 
 trians, the devoted courage of the Russians, the 
 freeborn bravery of the English, have been suc- 
 cessively put to the test. The boasted glories 
 of Louis XIV. sink into insignificance com- 
 pared to the triumphs of Napoleon ; and the 
 victories of Marlborough produced less impor- 
 tant consequences than those of Vittoria and 
 Waterloo. Since the Western World was ar- 
 rayed against the Eastern on the shores of Pal- 
 estine, no such assemblages of armed men have 
 been seen as those which followed the standards 
 of Napoleon-, and the hordes which Attila dis- 
 played on the plains of Chalons were less for- 
 midable than those which Alexander led from 
 the deserts of Scythia. 
 
 Nor were the intellectual exertions of this an- 
 imating period less conspicuous than its warlike 
 achievements. In this bloodless contest, the 
 leaders of civilization, the lords of the earth and 
 the sea, outstripped all other states. The same 
 age which witnessed the military- glories of 
 Wellington and Napoleon, beheld the comple- 
 tion of astronomical investigation by Laplace, 
 and the hidden recesses of the heart unfolded by 
 Sir Walter Scott. Earth told the historj- of ii<j 
 revolutions through the remains buried in its 
 bosom, and the secrets even of material compo- 
 sition yielded to the power of philosophical 
 analysis. Sculpture revived from its ashes un- 
 der the taste of Canova, and the genius of Tor- 
 •waldson again charmed the world by the fasci- 
 nations of design ; architecture displayed its 
 splendour in the embellishments of the French 
 metropolis, and the rising capital of Russia uni- 
 ted to the solidity of Egyptian materials the del- 
 icacy of Grecian taste. t Even the rugged ridges 
 of the Alps yielded to the force of scientific en- 
 terprise, and the barriers of Nature were smooth- 
 ed by the efforts of human perseverance ; while 
 the genius of Britain added a new element to 
 the powers of art, and made fire the instrument 
 of subduing the waves. 
 
 . Eifects so various could not have arisen from 
 the ordinary course of human events. The tal- 
 ent developed was too great, the wickedness 
 
 *Tac., Ann., iii.,65. 
 
 t Clarke's Trav., li., 391, 392, 
 
 committed too appalling, to be explained on the 
 usual principles of human nature. It seemed 
 rather as if some higher powers had been en- 
 gaged in a strife in which man was the visible 
 instrument ; as if the demons of hell had been 
 let loose to scourge mankind, and the protection 
 of Heaven for a time withdrawn from virtue, to 
 subject its firmness to the severest test. The 
 fancy of antiquity would have peopled the scene 
 with hostile deities, supporting imseen the con- 
 tests of armies ; the severer genius of Christi- 
 anity beheld in it the visible intei-position of Al- 
 mighty power, to punish the sins of a corrupted 
 world. 
 
 There was nothing, however, supernatural in 
 the events of that momentous age. The causes of 
 magnitude of the effects produded arose this diver- 
 entirely from the intensity of the feel- ^ity. 
 ings which were roused ; the extremes of virtue 
 and vice which were exhibited, from the force 
 of the incitements to the former, and the tempta- 
 tions to the latter, which were presented. The 
 interests which were at stake were not the loss 
 of provinces or the retreat of armies, but the fate 
 of whole ranks in society, and the lives of mul- 
 titudes, from the throne to the cottage ; the pas- 
 sions which were called into action, not the mo- 
 mentaiy excitation of national rivalry, or the 
 casual burst of hostile feeling, but the mutual 
 and deep-rooted hatred which had been gather- 
 ing strength from the foundation of the world. 
 The friends of liberty inhaled their spirit from 
 the example of antiquity, and drank deep of the 
 fountains which the writers of Greece and Rome 
 had opened ; the supporters of the throne struck 
 the profounder chords of religion and loyalty, 
 and summoned to their aid the precepts of "Cath- 
 olic faith and the honour of modern nobility. 
 The fervour of ancient eloquence, the recollec- 
 tions of classical achievement, warmed the for- 
 mer ; the feelings of hereditary devotion, the glo- 
 ries of chivalrous descent, animated the latter. 
 It was not the ripple of a minute that burst upon 
 the shore, but the long swell of the Atlantic, 
 wafted from distant realms, and heaved on the 
 bosom of remote antiquity. 
 
 The struggle between the high and the low, 
 the throne and the people, has subsisted from a 
 remote period; but it is only in modern times 
 that the principles of general freedom have been 
 established, or those powers brought into collis- 
 ion which had been mutually gaining strength 
 from the earliest times. 
 
 How just soever it may appear to us that the 
 welfare and interests of the great body causes of the 
 of the people should be protected from early depres- 
 tl-e aggressions of the powerful, there sion of the 
 is Twthing more certain than that such lower orders, 
 is not the primitive or original state of society. 
 The vaxieties of human character, the different 
 degrees of intellectual or physical strength with 
 which men are endowed, the consequences of 
 accident, misSirtune, or crime, the destitution 
 and helpless state of the poor in the infancy of 
 civilization, early introduce the distinction of 
 ranks, and precipitate the lower orders into that 
 state of dependance on their superiors which is 
 known by the name of slavery. This institu- 
 tion, however odious its name has now justly 
 become, is not an evil when it first arises; it 
 only becomes such by being continued in cir- 
 cumstances different from those in which it ori- 
 ginated, and in times when the protection it af- 
 fords to the poor is no longer required. 
 
 The universality of slavery in the consequent 
 early ages oi mankmd is a certam m- universality 
 dication that it is unavoidable, from of slavery. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 21 
 
 the circumstances in which the human species 
 is everywhere placed in the first stages of socie- 
 ty. Where capital is unknown, property inse- 
 cure, and violence universal, there is no security 
 for the lower classes but in the protection of their 
 superioi-s ; and the sole condition on which this 
 can be obtained is that of slavery. Property in 
 the person and labour of the poor is the only in- 
 ducement which can be held out to the opulent 
 to take them under their protection. Compul- 
 sion is the only power which can render labour 
 general in the many ages which must precede 
 the inlluence of artificial wants, or a general 
 taste for its fruits. Humanity, justice, and pol- 
 icy, so powerful in civilized ages, arc then un- 
 known, and the suli'erings of the destitute are as 
 much disregarded as those of the lower animals. 
 If they belonged to no lord, they would speedily 
 fall a prey to famine or violence. How miser- 
 able soever the condition of slaves may be in 
 those unruly times, they are incomparably bet- 
 ter off than they would have been if they had 
 incurred the destitution of freedom.* 
 
 The simplicity of rural or patriarchal man- 
 ners mitigates the severity of an institution 
 Avhich necessity had first introduced. The 
 slaves among the Arabs or the Tartars enjoyed 
 nearly as much happiness as their masters ; 
 their occupations, fare, and enjoyments were 
 nearly the same.T To this day. the condition 
 of a slave in all the Eastern empires differs but 
 little from that of a domestic servant in modem 
 Europe ; and even the enfranchised poor of 
 France and England would find something to 
 envy in the situation of a Russian peasant. 
 Succour in sickness, employment in health, and 
 maintenance in old age, are important advanta- 
 ges even in the best-regulated states : during the 
 anarchy of early times their value is incalcula- 
 ble.i 
 
 There is no instance in the histon,^ of the 
 •world of the peasantry in a level country, who 
 are solely employed in the labours of agricul- 
 ture, emancipating themselves without external 
 aid from this state of dependance on their su- 
 periors. Attached to the soil, weighed down by 
 the toil of cultivation, separated from each other, 
 and limited in the sphere of their observation, 
 ignorant from want of mutual intercourse, and 
 yet destitute of the energy of savage life, they 
 have everj'where remained, from generation to 
 generation, unable either to combine against 
 violence or to escape from oppression. The in- 
 habitants of Mesopotamia, of Egypt, or of Ben- 
 gal, like the serls of Poland, or the boors of 
 Russia in recent times, have continued, from 
 the earliest ages, in the same state of passive 
 and laborious existence. 
 
 It is by the aid of other habits, and by the in- 
 fluence of a different state of societj-, that the 
 first rudiments of freedom have been established 
 among mankind. 
 
 The first of these causes is to be found in the 
 First causes independence and solitude of the pas- 
 wiuch lead toral life. The Arabs, who follow- 
 to freedi.m. q^^ ^i^^j^.. camels ovcr the sands of 
 Arabia; the Scythians, who wandered over the 
 deserts of Tartary, were subject to no oppres- 
 sion, because they were restrained by no neces- 
 sity. If the chief of a tt-ibe was guilty of any 
 
 * Sism., Hist, de France, i.,50-lfi0. 
 
 t " Dominum ac servuni, nullis ediiratioiiis deliciis dig- 
 noscas. Inter eadem pecora, in eodem humo degunt ; donee 
 ffitas .sepai et, ingenuos virtus agnoscat." — Tacitus, De Mor. 
 Germ., c. 20. 
 
 t Park's Travels in Africa, i., 434. Voluey's Syria, p. 
 312. Clarke's Travels, i., 901 70. 
 
 act of injustice, his subjects had it The indepcnd- 
 always in their power to depart with cuce of past*- 
 their families and herds, and before "-^ ''fe- 
 a few hours had elapsed, all trace of their route 
 had disappeared in the sand of the desert, or 
 amid the vegetation of the steppes. Like our 
 first parents on leaving Paradise, the world was 
 all before them, and wherever grass flourished 
 or water was to be found, they were equally 
 ready to sojourn and increase. From this inde- 
 pendence of the shepherd tribes, joined to the 
 boundless extent of the plains which Nature had 
 prepared for their reception, have sprung the 
 freedom and energy of the pastoral character; 
 the conquests of the Arabs and the settlements 
 of the Scythians have arisen from the same 
 cause of hardihood in their native wilds ; and 
 to the roving habits of our forefathers, who 
 spread from the centre of Asia to the shores of 
 the Atlantic, the liberty of modem times is 
 mainly to be ascribed, and all the glories of Eu- 
 ropean civilization have sprung — the arts of 
 Greece, the arms of Rome, the chivalry of 
 France, and the navy of England. 
 
 The second great source of freedom in human 
 affairs is to be found in the protection The securi- 
 and opulence of walled cities. Amid ty of walled 
 the security which they afford, indus- cities, 
 tr}' is excited by the desire of enjoyment, and 
 capital accumulates from the means of employ- 
 ing it. With the growth of wealth succeeds a 
 consciousness of the independence which it con- 
 fers ; with the extension of jJroperty, an aver- 
 sion to the oppression which might endanger it. 
 The assembly of multitudes awakens a sense of 
 strength ; community of interest engenders pub- 
 lic feeling, proximity of residence suggests the 
 means of common defence. Amid the growing 
 wealth and rapid communication of ideas which 
 prevail in commercial cities, the spirit of free- 
 dom is awakened, and the hatred to oppression 
 confirmed. From this source the whole liberty 
 of antiquity took its rise ; their republics were 
 all cradled in a single city, and confined to the 
 citizens whom it produced ; and the names of a 
 state and political body were derived from that 
 of a town, in which alone they were found to 
 exist. 
 
 The last source of freedom is to be foimd in 
 the sequestered situation and inde- xhe protec- 
 pendent habits of mountaineers, tionofmount- 
 Amid the solitude of the Alps or =^'n retreats, 
 the fastnesses of the Himalaya, vigour is called 
 forth by the necessity for exertion, and inde- 
 pendence presen-ed by security from insult. 
 The oppressors of mankind pass unheeding by 
 these cradles of intrepid courage, and, attracted 
 by the spoils of more opulent states, leave in 
 their native obscurity the poor and hardy inhab- 
 itants of mountainous regions. From genera- 
 tion to generation, accordingly, the same free 
 and independent habits are perpetuated in the 
 mountain tribes of the world ; and while the 
 vigour of conquerors melts in the plains, as Al- 
 pine snows under the warmth of a southern sun, 
 the freedom of the mountains is preserved, like 
 their glaciers, in virgin purity, amid the blasts 
 and the severity' of winter. 
 
 The freedom of the ancient world expired in 
 the course of ages, from the limited Limited ex- 
 number of those who enjoyed its ben- tent of free- 
 efits. This was the chief "cause of its dom in an- 
 decay ; but it arose, unavoidably, from ""'^ *"°^*" 
 the limited sources from which freedom took 
 its rise in ancient times. Republics, such as 
 Athens or Sparta, where the freemen did not 
 exceed twenty thousand, wliile the slaves were 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 above four hundred thousand, -were not free 
 countries : they were cities in which a certain 
 portion ol' the inhabitants, little qualified to ex- 
 ercise them, had acquired exclusive privileges, 
 ■while they kept the great body of their brethren 
 in a state of servitude.* Even the philosophers 
 of antiquity, in their speculations concerning a 
 perfect republic, could not go beyond a small 
 territory, ruled by a single city, in which the 
 great body of the people were slaves. The priv- 
 ileged citizens evinced on ever)' occasion the 
 strongest repugnance to extending their rights to 
 others; and, in consequence, were exposed, on 
 the first reverse, to the defection of all their al- 
 lies. Hence the liberty of the Grecian repub- 
 lics was ^hort-lived and" precarious. The ruling 
 class became corrupted from the influence of 
 prosperity or the seductions of wealth, and no 
 infusion of energy took place from the lower, to 
 renovate their strength or supply their place; 
 the political body depended upon the exertions 
 of a single class, and with its virtue the public 
 freedom expired. The splendour of success or 
 the efforts of genius might retard the approach 
 of disaster or conceal the growth of corruption ; 
 but the season of maturity stripped the tree of 
 its foliage, and the trunk, fed by no perennial 
 fountain and invigorated by no ascending nour- 
 ishment, 3'ielded without resistance to the blasts 
 of winter.t 
 
 With a magnanimity so extraordinary, and 
 Different ^° contrar}' to the ordinary principles 
 policy of the of human nature, that it may almost 
 Romans. Its be ascribed to Divine interposition, 
 prodigious the Romans, from the foundation of 
 effects. jj^gjj. j-epublic, admitted all the sub- 
 
 jects of conquered states to a share of their priv- 
 ileges, and they received in return the empire 
 of the world. From the first junction of the Ro- 
 mans and Sabincs to the final extension, by the 
 Emperor Antoninus, of the privileges of Roman 
 citizens to the whole civilized world, this policy 
 was steadily pursued — unshaken by success, un- 
 subdued by disaster. The Romans felt the ben- 
 efit of this magnanimous conduct in the steady 
 adherence of their allies during the severest pe- 
 riods of national misfortune.; Even the defeats 
 of the Trebia and Thrasymene were not follow- 
 ed by the defection of a single ally ; nothing but 
 the overthrow of Cannae shook their fidelity; 
 while the first serious disaster of Carthage, 
 which confined its privileges to its own citizens, 
 stripped the Republic of all its subsidiary for- 
 ces. The steady growth, unequalled extent, and 
 long duration of the Roman Empire, proves the 
 wisdom of their political system ; but it fell a 
 prey at length to the dreadlul evil of domestic 
 slavery.§ It was this incurable evil which, 
 even in the time of Augustus, thinned the ranks 
 of the legions ; which in process of time filled 
 the armies with mercenarj' soldiers and the prov- 
 inces with great proprietors ; which subsequent- 
 ly rendered it impracticable to raise a military 
 force in the sotithem provinces of the Empire, 
 
 * Athens contained, at its greatest period, 21.000, Sparta 
 39,000 citizens.— GiBBo:*, i., 383. 
 
 1 Plut. in Pericles. Gib., i., 53. 54. and 383. Arist., De Rep., 
 i., 4, 5. Mitford, ix., 10, 11. StaGI, Rev. Frang., i., 10, 11. 
 
 t The Roman citizens, in the time of Paulus Emilius, 
 amounted to 337,000 persons c.-ipable of bearing arms ; the 
 admission of the Italian allies by Caius Gracchus swelled 
 their numbers to4, 163,000 in the time of Augustus, and the 
 extension of the franchise to the Gauls augmented them to 
 6,900,000. The Emperor Antoninus, by a general edict, ex- 
 tended the privilege to the whole Empire.* 
 
 t) The slaves in the Roman Euipire were extremely nu- 
 merous ; those of a single family were ascertained, on a 
 
 * Flul^rrh in Caius Gniccbus uxl Faulus Emiliui. Ferg., v., iii. Gib., 
 i., 73. Tac, Ann., iti., 24. 
 
 I and at length consumed the vitals of the state, 
 I and left nothing to withstand the barbarians but 
 j nobles who v>'anted courage to defend their j rop- 
 I erty, and slaves who were destitute of propdrly 
 to rouse their courage.* 
 
 The barbarians who overthrew the Roman 
 Empire brought with them from p^^, .^.^ 
 their deserts the freedom and energy „f"^hc "oith" 
 of savage life. Amid the expiring em nations, 
 embers of civilized institutions they '"* great ef- 
 spread the flames of barbarian inde- 
 pendence ; on the decayed stock of urban liber- 
 ty they ingrafted the vigorous shoots of pastoral 
 freedom. From their exploits, the thrones, the 
 monarchs, and the nobles of Europe took their 
 rise; in their customs is to be found the source 
 of the laws and institutions of modern times; in 
 their settlements, the origin of the peculiar char- 
 acter by which the diflerent European nations 
 are distinguished. Their conquests Lamentable 
 were not, in the end, a mere change prostration 
 of government, or the substitution of "f '^^ van- 
 one race of monarchs for another, but i"'*"^''- 
 a total subversion of the property, customs, and 
 institutions of the vanquished people. Their 
 cities were destroyed, their temples ruined, their 
 movables plundered, their estates confiscated. t 
 The daughters of the greatest among the con- 
 quered were compelled to receive husbands from 
 the leaders of their enemies, while those of the 
 inferior classes were exposed to the grossest in- 
 sults, or driven in despair to the protection of 
 convents; and the youth of the other sex, bom 
 to splendid possessions, were sold as slaves, or 
 compelled to labour as serfs on the lands which 
 their fathers held as proprietors. To such ex- 
 tremes of distress were the inhabitants of the 
 vanquished states sometimes reduced, that tiiey 
 voluntarily submitted to bondage as the price of 
 life, and sought in slavery the only protection 
 which could be obtained from the violence by 
 which they were surrounded.t 
 
 It was not, ho'.."ever, at once, or by any sudden 
 act of violence, that this complete transfer of 
 property from the vanquished to the victors took 
 place. The settlements of the Northern nations 
 in the provinces of the Roman Empire did not 
 resemble the conquests either of the Roman le- 
 gions or the amiies of modem Europe, but were 
 rather akin, though more violent, to the gradual 
 inroad which the Irish poor have effected into 
 the provinces of Westem Britain in these times. 
 Wave after wave succeeded before the whole 
 country was occupied ; one province was over- 
 nm for a whole generation before another was 
 invaded; and a more equitable division of goods 
 between the natives and the conquerors at first 
 took place than could have been expected where 
 power was at the disposal of such rude barbari- 
 ans. Sometimes a half, sometimes a tliird of 
 the vanquished lands were \et\ in the hands of 
 the old proprietors ; and, although the portion 
 was abridged by each successive inroad of con- 
 querors, yet it was several centuries before the 
 transfer was completely effected; and some rem- 
 
 melancholy occasion, to amount to 400 snuls ; but no gener- 
 al enumeration or peculiar garb was allowed, lest it should 
 be discovered how few the freemen were in comparisuu to 
 their number. — Tacitu.";. 
 
 * Polyli , iii., c. 9 and 6. Fers. Rome, v., 277. Gib., iii., 
 66 ; vii., 212 ; v., 263. Sism., Ilist. de France, i., 82. 
 
 t So far was this universal system of disiiilieritiiig car- 
 ried after the Norman conquest, that, by a genera eiiiict- 
 ment, inserted in Doomsday Book, all alienations by Saxons 
 subsequent to the conquest of William, and all titles to ts- 
 t;itcs not derived from him and reiristeied in his books, were 
 declared null.— TlIlERRV, li , p. 273. 
 
 i Thierry, ii., 24, 96, 97, 109, 101. Sism., Hist, de 
 France, i., 277. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 23 
 
 .nants of the ancient free or allodial tenure have 
 in all the European monarchies survived the 
 whole changes of tlie Middle Ages. Gradually, 
 however, the work of srolij^tion was extended; 
 the depressed condition and timid character of 
 the native inhabitants rendered them incapable 
 of resisting the inroads of their fierce neigh- 
 bours; numbers surrendered their properties for 
 the benefit of feudal protection; the daughters 
 of the vanquished, if entitled to lands, almost all 
 chose their husbands from the sons of the con- 
 querors, or were compelled to do so by the pow- 
 er of the sovereign; and at lenglh tlic change 
 was generally effected, and the land had almost 
 eveiywhere passed from the Romans to the 
 northern proprietors. Before the tenth century 
 the change was complete.* 
 
 The lamentable state of weakness and decay 
 Separation i'lto which the Roman Empire had 
 thcnofj be- fallen in the latter age of its existence, 
 tweeii the j,^ consequence of the universality of 
 mx^Ty ill «l3-Vf;ry iu all its provinces, rendered 
 modem the people totally incapable of prevenl- 
 times. ing this general spoliation. They sub- 
 mitted, almost without resistance, to every inva- 
 ■der, and could liardly be induced to lake up 
 arms, even by the most incessant foreign and 
 domestic aggressions. Hence arose a total sep- 
 aration of the higher and lower orders, and an 
 entire change in the habits, occupations, and 
 character of the different ra.nks of society. From 
 the free conquerors of the Roman provinces have 
 sprung the noble and privileged classes of mod- 
 ern Europe; from their enslaved subjects, the 
 numerous and degraded ranks of peasants and 
 labourers.t The equality and energy of pastor- 
 al life stamped a feeling of pride and independ- 
 ence on the descendants of the conquerors, which 
 in many countries is yet undiminished; the mis- 
 ery and degradation of the vanquished riveted 
 chains about their necks, whicli were hardly 
 loosened for a thousand years. 
 
 In this original separation of the different 
 Tanks of society, consequent upon the invasion 
 of the Franks into Gaul, is to be found the re- 
 mote cause of the evils which induced the 
 Frr.^jcii Revolution. But many ages were 
 destined to elapse bei>jre the conflicting inter- 
 ests thus created came into collision ; and it 
 was by the gradual agency of several concur- 
 ring causes that the energy was restored to the 
 mass of the people, which had been lost amid 
 the tranquillity of Roman servitude and the vio- 
 lence of feudal oppression. 
 
 When the lands of the vanquished people were 
 at length completely divided, and the rnilitaiy fol- 
 lowers of the victorious invaders had complete- 
 ly overspread the conquered territory, tlie nobles 
 despised their subjects too much to court their 
 assistance in periods of danger. Shut up in cas- 
 tles and surrounded by their own military re- 
 'tainers, they neither required the aid nor felt for 
 the sufferings of their bondsmen. The ravages 
 of the Normans, the crueUy of the Huns, e.fciled 
 but little compassion while it v\-as WTeaked only 
 on the slaves of the country ; and the baron, se- 
 cure within his walls, beheld with indifference 
 his villages in flames, and the long files of weep- 
 ing captives who were carried off from beneath 
 his ramparts by the desolating invaders. During 
 these long ages of feudal anarchy, the lower or- 
 ders neither improved in courage nor rose in im- 
 portance ; the lapse of time served only to in- 
 
 » Gnizot, rOss.iis sur I'ilist. de France, 330, 252, 2S0, 301. 
 .Thierry, Essais sur I'Histuire, 87, 9'i. 
 
 t Thif ri-y, IntroJaotion, i., 8, 9. Sism., France, i., 74, 87. 
 
 crease their degradation, by extinguishing the 
 remembrance of better times.* 
 
 But the conquests of the northern nations led 
 to ore important consequence: the First origin of 
 establishment of representative gov- represiMitativc 
 ernmcnts in the provinces of the em- governments, 
 pire. The liberty of antiquity, cradled in single 
 cities, was conlined to the citizens who were pres- 
 ent on the spot, antl could take an active part in 
 the public deliberations. Though the Romans, 
 with unexampled v/isdom, extended the rights 
 of citizenship to the conquered provinces, yet the 
 idea of admitting them to a share of the repre- 
 sentation never occurred to their minds ; and the 
 more important privileges of a citizen could only 
 be exercised by actually repairing to the me- 
 tropolis. The unavoidable consequence of this 
 was, that the populace of the capital, in all the 
 free states of antiquity, exercised the principal 
 powers of government; from their passions the 
 public measures look their rise ; and by their 
 tumults, revolutions in the state were effected. 
 Hence the violence, the anarchy, and the incon- 
 stancy by which their history was so often dis- 
 tinguished, and v.^hich, though concealed amid 
 the blaze of ancient eloquence, the searching eye 
 of modern history has so fully illustrated.t 
 
 The northern nations, on the other hand, who 
 established themselves on the ruins of the Ro- 
 man Empire, were actuated by different feelings 
 and influenced by opposite habits. The liberty 
 which they brought with tliem from their woods, 
 or which had sprung up amid the independence 
 of the desert, knew no locality, and was confined 
 to no district. The whole nation was originally 
 free; and that freedom was equally preserved 
 and valued in the cultivated plain as in the des- 
 ert wilds. When the military followers of a 
 victorious chief were settled in a province they 
 had conquered, they still regarded their leader 
 with somewhat of their original independence ; 
 and he was distinguished from them only by the 
 pre-eminence of his rank in actual war, and the 
 magnitude of his allotment of the vanquished 
 lands. The sea-kings, who so long desolated 
 the maritime provinces of France and England, 
 and the Anglo-Saxons, who laid the foundation 
 of the English Empire, possessed hardly any 
 authority over their followers Ijut during the pe- 
 riod of actual service. The Franks who, under 
 Clovis, established the French monarchy, owed 
 but a nominal allegiance to their chief Eleva- 
 ted on the shields of their followers, their leaders 
 owed their dignity to the voluntary choice of 
 their fellow-soldiers ; and, even in moments of 
 triumph, the meanest soldiers v/ere not afraid 
 of reminding them of the tenure by which they 
 held their authority.! 
 
 It was the settlement of brave and energetic 
 nations in rich and highly cultivated causes which 
 provinces which led to the separa- i^d to it in 
 lion of the victors over the conquer- modern Eu- 
 ed districts, and the establishment "'"f"'- 
 of an independent aristocracy amid the de- 
 caying Avealth of ancient servitude. Had the 
 country been less richly cultivated, the followers 
 of the northern invaders would have been lost 
 amid the seductions of cities, or returned, aftei 
 a predatory incursion, to the solitudes which 
 protected them from pursuit. It was the dis- 
 covery of rich and cultivated districts, tenanted 
 by a skilful but unwarlike people, which en- 
 
 * Thiprry, i., 102 ; ii., 96. Oib , x., 242. 
 t Mitford's Greece, ix., 68, 87. 
 
 i Thierry, li., 32'. Hume, i , 264. Turner's Anglo-Sax- 
 ons, i., 97. Sisin., France, i., 372. IluUam, i., 153^ 
 
24 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 couraged the rural settlement of the conquerors, 
 which rendered the protection of cities unneces- 
 sary, and provided a counterpoise to their al- 
 lurements; and, by establishing the invaders 
 in a permanent mamier in the country, long 
 preserved their manners from coiTuption, and 
 rendered the seiTitude of the Roman Empire 
 one remote cause of the liberty of modem Eu- 
 rope. 
 
 On the first settlement of the victorious na- 
 tions, the popular assemblies of the soldiers 
 were an actual convocation of the military ar- 
 ray of the kingdom. William the Conqueror 
 summoned his whole military followers to as- 
 semble at Winchester, and sixty thousand men 
 obeyed the mandate, the poorest of whom held 
 property adequate to the maintenance of a horse- 
 man and his attendants. The meetings of the 
 Oiamps dc Mai were less a deputation from the 
 followers of Clovis than an actual congregation 
 of their numbers in one vast assembly. But, in 
 process of time, the burden of travelling from a 
 distance was severely felt, and the prevalence 
 of sedentary habits rendered the landed proprie- 
 tors unwilling to undertake the risk or expense 
 of personal attendance on the great council of 
 the state. Hence the introduction of P.*rli.4- 
 jiENTS or Repre-sentative Legislatures, the 
 greatest addition to the cause of liberty which 
 modern times has afforded ; wliich combine the 
 energy of a democratic with the caution of an 
 aristocratic government ; which temper the tur- 
 bulence and allay the fervour of cities, by the 
 slowness and the tenacity of country life ; and 
 which, where the balance is duly preserved in 
 the composition of the assembly, provide, in the 
 variety of its interests and habits, a pein)anent 
 check upon the violence or injustice of a pajt 
 of its members.* 
 
 It is doubtful, however, whether these causes, 
 They are ta- powerful as they are, would have 
 ken from the led to the introduction of that great 
 assemblies of and hitherto unknown change in 
 the Church, government winch the representa- 
 tive system introduced, had not a model existed 
 for imitation, in which, for a series of ages, it 
 had been fully established. The councils of 
 the Church had, so early as the sixth century, 
 introduced over all Christendom the most per- 
 fect system of representation: delegates from 
 the most remote dioceses in Europe and Asia 
 had there assembled to deliberate on the con- 
 cerns of the faithful ; and every Christian priest, 
 in the humblest station, had some share in the 
 formation of those great assemblies, by whom 
 the general affairs of the Church were to be 
 regulated. The formation of parliaments, under 
 the representative system, took place in all the 
 European states in the thirteenth and fourteenth 
 centuries. The industry of antiquaries may 
 carry the Wittenagemot, or actual assembly of 
 leading men, a few generations farther back ; 
 but six centuries before, the councils of Nice 
 and Antioch had exhibited perfect models of a 
 universal system of representation, embracing a 
 wider sphere than the whole extent of the Ro- 
 man Empire. There can be no doubt that it 
 was this example, so generally known, and of 
 such powerful authority, which determined the 
 imitation of the other members of the ('omniuni- 
 ty, where they had any common concerns which 
 required deliberation ; and thus, to the other 
 blessings which civilization owes to Christiani- 
 ty, are to be added those inestimable advanta- 
 
 * Thierry, 286. Sism., France, i., 231. 
 
 I ges which have flowed from the establishment 
 of the representative system.* 
 
 In every part of Europe, accordingly, where 
 1 the Northern conquerors established Universally 
 themselves, the rudunents of a repre- established 
 sentative government are to be found. '" Europe. 
 In all, the barons settled in the countr}', and the 
 legislative authority was vested in assemblies, 
 of' their representatives, who, under the name 
 of Wiltenagemots, Parliaments, States-General, 
 or Cortes, were brought together at stated pe- 
 riods to deliberate on the public concerns. So 
 naturally did this institution spring from the 
 habits and situations of the military settlers, and 
 so little did its first founders anticipate the im- 
 portant conseijuences which have flowed from 
 its adoption, that the right of sending representa- 
 tives to Parliament was generally considered, 
 not as a privilege, but a burden ; and that share 
 in the legislature, which is now so much tha 
 object of contention and desire, was originally 
 viewed as an oppressive duty, for which those 
 who exercised it were entitled to indemnification 
 from their more fortunate brethren. The barons, 
 however, were long animated by a strong feeling 
 of independence, and in ever\' part of Europe, at 
 their first establishment, diffused the principle 
 of resistance to arbitrary authority. In Spain, 
 accordingly, France, Germany, and Flanders, 
 we find them manfully resisting the encroach- 
 ments of the sovereign, and in all, the same 
 privileges of not being taxed without their con- 
 sent, and of concurring in the acts of the legis- 
 lature, earlv established.t 
 
 In all these states, however, the feudal system 
 was subject to the same fatal defect, ^^^^^ ^^_ 
 that it made no provision for the inter- fectsof the 
 ests or welfare of the great body of the feudal sys- 
 people. Like all other institutions '«'"• 
 in which tiiis defect existed, it involved in itself 
 the principles of its own decay. The conquer- 
 ors of the Roman Empire deemed the inhabi- 
 tants uf the provinces in which they settled 
 wholly unworthy of notice ; and even in Mag- 
 na Charta, while the privileges of the barons 
 and the freemen were anxiously provided for, 
 no stipulation of any importance was made for 
 the extensive class of husbandmen or .slaves. 
 The decline in the virtue of the barbarous set- 
 tlers was in most instances extremely rapid, and 
 the succeeding wave of invaders generally found, 
 the first set lost in sloth or destroyed by luxurj'. 
 In the miserable and degraded barons, who de- 
 serted Roderick in his contest with the Moorish 
 invaders of Spain, we can hardly discern a trace 
 of resemblance to the impetuous warriors who, 
 under Attila, penetrated into that secluded prov- 
 ince of the Roman Empire ; and the Moorish 
 conquerors were in a few centuries reduced to 
 the same degraded state from the operation of 
 the same cau-ses. Even the genius and triumphs 
 of Charlemagne were unequal to renovating the 
 mixture of barbarism and efleininacy of which 
 he formed the head ; and humanity never ap- 
 peared in a more pusillanimous or degraded 
 form than among the Rois Faineans, the un- 
 worthy successors of Charles Martel, and of the 
 barons who died for the liberty of Christendom 
 on the field of Tours. All the" efforts of Charle- 
 magne for the improvement of his people were 
 
 * Salvandy, Hist, de la Polnipie, i., 105, 106. Guizot, 
 Essais snr I'Hist. de France. Thierry, Essais sur I'Histoiro 
 de Fiince. 
 
 + Ilallam, i.. 253 ; and ii., 67, 130. Vjllaret, 125. Hume, 
 ii.. 116, 271. Ersk., Inst., 1, 3. Comines, ir., c. 13. Da 
 Clcrq., 389. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 25 
 
 thwarted by the limited number of free inhabi- 
 tants whom they contained. A few thousand 
 freemen were there to be found scattered among 
 as many million of slaves ; and, in his own life- 
 time, he had the misfortune of beholding the 
 progress of corruption even among the troops 
 whom he had led to victory. The same cause 
 blasted all the beneficent institutions of Alfred 
 for the protection and improvement of his coun- 
 try, and exposed the English nation, for so long 
 a period, to desolation and ruin from a small 
 body of Northern invaders.* 
 
 The private wars of the nobles with each 
 Effects of the Other were the first circumstance 
 private wars which renewed the courage and re- 
 of the nobles, yived the energy of the feudal bar- 
 ons. It is to this cause, joined to the fortifica- 
 tion of the castles, and the constant use of arms 
 by the retainers of the landowners, that the res- 
 toration of the militarj' courage of France is to 
 be ascribed. The Spanish barons were trained 
 to courage in the stern school of necessity, and 
 regained, in the mountains of Galicia,the valour 
 which their conquerors were losing amid the 
 luxuries of Cordova. The English military 
 spirit, which had decayed from the same causes, 
 was restored by the private wars of the nobles 
 during the reign of Stephen; and, amid the 
 havoc and niin of the countr)', that courage was 
 elicited which was destined to lay the foundation 
 of British liberty in a happier age.t 
 
 But the feudal liberty was at length destroyed 
 Causes of the by the change of manners, and the 
 decay of feu- natural progress of opulence. Be- 
 dal liberty. jng confined to a limited class of 
 society, it expired with the virtue of those who 
 alone were interested in its defence ; conferring 
 little upon the great body of the people, it de- 
 rived nothing from the talents which lay buried in 
 their bosom. Wealth enervated its possessors, 
 and no inferior class existed to supply their 
 place ; the rich became corrupted, and the poor 
 did not cease to be slaves. The progress was 
 different in dilierent states, but in all the result 
 was the same. The kingdoms both of Arragon 
 and Castile were governed, in their early his- 
 tory, by more limited mouarchs than the Planta- 
 genets of England, and their nobles did not yield 
 to the barons of Runnymede in zeal for the pres- 
 ervation of their privileges ; but it was in vain 
 that they extorted concessions from their sov- 
 ereigns, and confirmed them on occasion of 
 every renewal of the coronation oath. The 
 Its decline in spirit of freedom, and with it the 
 Spain and liberties of the nation, died away 
 France. upon the decay of the feudal aris- 
 
 tocracy, from the selfishness and degradation of 
 the great body of the people. The Cortes main- 
 tained its independent spirit, and the "Great 
 Privilege," the Magna Charta of Arragon, was 
 never repealed; but the cities neglected sending 
 representatives to its assemblies, and many sui- 
 fered their right to a place in its deliberations to 
 expire. The nobles became attached to the 
 splendour of a court, and, with the forms of a 
 limited, Spain became a despotic monarchy.: 
 
 In France, the nobility, during the period of 
 their feudal vigour, reduced the crown to nearly 
 the same limited sway as prevailed in England, 
 insomuch that, for nearly half a century, it was 
 
 ♦ Cond6, Hist, des Arab., i., 62 ; li., 125. Sism., France, ii., 
 279, 355, 410 ; in., 96, 97. Turner's An^lo-Saxons, li., 66. 
 
 t Hume, i.. 296. Sism., France, in., 374, 451. Conde, li., 
 126, 368, 494. 
 
 i Blaiici's Com., 669. Hal., Mid. Ages, ii., 38, 45, 67. 
 Mariana, Teorip de los Cortes, 395. 
 Vol. I.— D 
 
 a general opinion, confinned by several solemn 
 acts of the throne, that no tax; could be levied 
 without the consent of the Three Estates. But 
 the skeleton of a free government perislied with 
 the decay of the feudal manners : the influence 
 of the crown, and the attractions of a metropolis 
 drew the nobility to Paris; and liberty in the 
 countr}', deprived of its only supporters, speedily 
 fell to the ground.* 
 
 The progress was somewhat different in Ger- 
 many, although there, as elsewhere 
 in the European monarchies, the " Germany, 
 feudal system at first established the rudiments 
 of a free government, the illegality of tajces 
 without the consent of the people, and the pcu'- 
 tition of the legislative sovereignty with the 
 states of the kingdom. The power of the great 
 barons rendered the empire elective, and broke 
 down into separate states the venerable fabric, 
 of the Germanic confederacy ; but their sway 
 within tlieir own domains being not restrained 
 by the vigour or intelligence of the people, grad- 
 ually became unlimited, and the frame of liberty 
 was obliterated in the rising ambition of mili- 
 tary power, t 
 
 Notwithstanding the long and hereditary at- 
 tachment of the English people to „ 
 free institutions ; notwithstanding ^"'' J^"g'and. 
 the diffusion of this spirit by the establishment 
 of trial by juiy, and its preservation by the pro- 
 tection of insular situation, the usual cau.ses of 
 decline had begun to operate, and the feudal in- 
 dependence of the barons in the Middle Ages 
 had yielded to the corrupted subservience of op- 
 ulent times. The desolating wars of York and 
 Lancaster tiiinned the ranks of the nobles ; the 
 increase of luxury, by changing the directioa 
 of their expenditure, sapped the foundations of 
 their power. Under the Tudor princes, the in- 
 ditference of Parliament to the liberties of the 
 people had already commenced. Europe could 
 not exhibit a monarch who governed his people 
 with more absolute sway than Henry VIII., nor 
 is anything in modern times more instructive 
 than the pliant servility with which both the 
 Parliament and the people obeyed his despotic 
 commands. History can hardly exhibit an ex- 
 ample of a reign in which a greater number of 
 violent invasions were made, not only on public 
 rights, but private property — in which justice 
 was more disgracefully prostituted in courts of 
 law, liberty more completely abandoned in the 
 measures of Parliament, or caprice more tyran- 
 nically exerted on the tiirone. Those who as- 
 cribe the freedom of England solely to the feudal 
 institutions, would do well to consider the con- 
 dition of the country and the servility of the peo- 
 ple during the reign of this ferocious tyrant — 
 who confiscated the property of one third of the 
 landholders of his kingdom, and executed 72,000 
 persons in a single lifetime — or even, perhaps, 
 of his more prudent and popular daughter.: 
 
 Admirably adapted, therefore, as the feudal 
 system was for preserving an inde- it was only fit- 
 pendent spirit during the Middle ted for a bar- 
 Ages ; gratefully a.s we must ac- ''a™"s age. 
 knowledge its influence in restraining the power 
 of the northern conquerors, and preventing the 
 very name of Right or Privilege from being 
 swept away, as in the Asiatic monarchies, by 
 the desolating hand of power ; fully as Ave must 
 
 * Mabl., Obs. sur I'Hist. de France, s. v., c. 1 ; and Hal- 
 lam, i., 256, 270, 391. 
 
 t Schmidt, VI., 8. Hallam, ii.. 130. 
 
 t Henry's Britain, xi., 260, 372. Hume, iii., 94, 389; iv., 
 275 ; v., 263, 363, 470. 
 
26 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 admit that tjTanny would have rioted without 
 control, if, when the people were poor and disu- 
 nited, the nobles had not been brave and free ; 
 still it is obvious that it was an institution suit- 
 ed only to a barbarous age, and alike incapable 
 of being moulded, according to the changes 
 which society undergoes, or of providing for the 
 freedom of civilized times. With the institution 
 of standing armies, the progress of luxury, the 
 invention of gunpowder, and the rise of cities, it 
 necessarily decayed. The liberty which was 
 built on no other foundation has everj-where 
 long since fallen to the ground.* 
 
 The feudal system was in its vigour during 
 the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. When the 
 barons dwelt in fortified castles on their estates, 
 surrounded by a tenantry trained to warlike ex- 
 ercises, and attached alike by habit and interest 
 to the fortunes of their chief; cased in armour 
 from head to foot, and leading on a body of wnr- 
 like and devoted retainers, they were alike for- 
 midable to the tlirone and the cottage. If they 
 extorted privileges in their own favour from the 
 sovereign, they gave none to their enslaved vas- 
 sals. With a merciless hand and unsparing se- 
 verity, they checked the first struggles of the 
 people for a share of that freedom which they so 
 strenuously asserted for themselves. The in- 
 surrections of the Jacquerie in France, of the 
 peasants under Wat Tyler in England, and of 
 the Flemings under the brewer of GJhent, were 
 repressed with a cruelty of which history affords 
 few examples. The courage and enthusiasm 
 of the multitude in vain contended for victory 
 with steel-clad warriors, trained to arms from 
 their earliest years. The knights broke through 
 the ranks of the peasants with the same ease as 
 they would have traversed an unarmed assem- 
 bly ; and the degraded serf, incapable of those 
 efibrts of heroism which animated the free shep- 
 herds of the Alps, sunk beneath the stroke of 
 fate with the resignation of a martyr rather than 
 the spirit of a warrior.t 
 
 But the power of the nobles, incapable of be- 
 Opulence un- i°& subverted by force, was under- 
 dcrmiiied the mined by opulence ; and the eman- 
 power of ihe cipation of the people, for which so 
 nobles. niany thousands had perished in 
 
 vain, arose at length from the desires and follies 
 of their oppressor.-;. The baron was formidable 
 when his life was spent in arms, and he headed 
 the feudal array which had grown up under the 
 shadow of his castle walls ; when his years were 
 wasted in the frivolities of a court, and his for- 
 tune squandered in the luxuries of a metropolis, 
 he became contemptible. His tenantry ceased 
 either to venerate or follow a chief whom they 
 seldom beheld; the seductions of cities became 
 omnipotent to those who no longer valued their 
 niral dependants ; the desires of wealth, insatia- 
 ble among persons who had the glittering pros- 
 pect of a court before their eyes. The natural 
 progress of opulence proved fatal to a power 
 which made no provision for general felicity; 
 and the wisdom of nature rendered the follies of 
 the great the means of destroying the influence 
 which they had rendered the instrument of op- 
 pression instead of the bulwark of freedom. 
 
 While this was the fate of the liberty which 
 Prn^g55 oC the barbarian conquerors of the Ro- 
 freedom ill the man Empire brought with them from 
 smith of Eu- their native wilds, the progress of 
 ropj. events was different in the south of 
 
 * H.il.. i., 321. 
 
 t Hume, lii., 5, 7. Sismondi, \., 533, 510 ; xi., 434, 435. 
 
 Europe, where the ancient traces of Roman civ- 
 ilization had never been wholly extirpated, and 
 ihe wild shoots of Gothic freedom had never 
 fully expended. The liberty of modern Italy 
 did not spring from the independence of the 
 landed proprietors, but the free spirit of the in- 
 habitants of towns; its cradle was not the hall 
 of the feudal baron, but the forum of the indus- 
 trious citizens. While the great landholders 
 were engaged in projects of mutual slaughter, 
 and issued only from their fastnesses in the Ap- 
 ennines to ravage the plains below, the inhabi- 
 tonts of the towns flourished under the protection 
 of their native ramparts, and revived on their 
 ancient hearths the decaying embers of urban 
 liberty. At a time when the transalpine states 
 were still immersed in barbarism, and industry 
 was beginning only to spring in sheltered situa- 
 tions, under the shadow of the castle wall, the 
 Italian republics were already far advanced in 
 opulence, and the arts had struck deep root amid 
 the monuments of ancient splendour. The age 
 of Edward III., when the nobles of England were 
 still living in rustic plenty on their estates, when 
 rushes were spread on the floors instead of car- 
 [':t.s, and few of the barons could sign their 
 name, was contemporary with tiiat of Petrarch 
 and Dante, with the genius of Raphael and the 
 tliought of Machiavel. When Charles Vlll., 
 at the head of the brave but barbarous nobility 
 of France, burst into Italy at the close of the fif- 
 teenth centun,', he found himself in the midst of 
 an opulent and highly-civilized people, far ad- 
 vanced in the career of improvement, and abound- 
 ing in me'chants who numbered all the sover- 
 f gns of Europe among their debtors. When 
 t"::e feudal chieftain threatened to blow his trum- 
 lets within the walls of Florence, her citizens 
 offered to sound the tocsin, and the monarch of 
 the greatest military kingdom of Europe shrunk 
 from a contest with the burghers of a pacific re- 
 public.t 
 
 Nor were the civil virtues of this period of 
 Italian greatness less remarkable j^^pj^ ,^,e ^f 
 than iis opulence ami splendour. So the uriian 
 early as the thirteenth centurj-, the civilization 
 Emperor of Germany was defeated "^ ''^'-'• 
 by a coalition of tlie republics of Lombardy, and 
 the virtues of the Grecian states were Their great 
 rivalled by the patriotism of modern ami patriotic 
 freedom. History has to record v% ith cf'Tis. 
 pride, that, when the inhuman cruelty of the 
 German soldiery placed the children of the citi- 
 zens of Cremona before the walls of the city, to 
 deter the besieged from discharging their weap- 
 ons, their parents wept aloud, but did not cease 
 to combat for their liberties ; and that, when 
 eleven thousand of the first citizens of Pisa were 
 confined in the prisons of Genoa, they sent a 
 unanimous request to the senate not to pur- 
 chase their freedom by the surrender of one for- 
 tress in the hands of the republic. We speak 
 with exultation of the efibrts made by the British 
 empire during the late war; but how great so- 
 ever, they must yield to the exertions of Italian 
 patriotism, which manned the rival fiecis of Ge- 
 noa and Venice with as many sailors at the 
 battle of La Meloria, as serv'(>d the navies of 
 England and France at TrafaJgar.t 
 
 But the republics of Italy yielded lo the influ- 
 ence of the same causes which had Causes of 
 proved o pernicious to the Grecian their de- 
 commonwealths, and destroyed the feu- '■'"'^• 
 
 * Sisni., Rep. Ital., iii., 157; v., 3G5 ; xii., 166. Ilume, 
 ii., 349. 
 t Sism., Rep. Ital., iii., 90 ; iv., £2, 29. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 27 
 
 dal independence of the north of Europe. They 
 made no provision for the liberties or interests 
 of the great body of the people. The states of 
 Florence, Venice, Genoa, and Pisa, were not in 
 reality liee: they were dynasties, in which a 
 few individuals had usurped the rights, and dis- 
 posed of the fortvuies of the great bulk of their 
 fellow-citizens. During the most flourishing 
 period of their history, the citizens of all the 
 Italian republics did not amount to 20,000; and 
 these privileged classes held as many millions 
 in subjection. The citizens of Venice were 
 2500; those of Genoa, 4500; those of Pisa, Si- 
 enna, Lucca, and Florence, 6000. The right of 
 citizenship, Urns limited, descended in a lew 
 families, and was as carefully guarded from in- 
 vasion as the private estates of the nobility. To 
 the conquered provinces no privileges were ex- 
 tended ; to the republics in alliance, no rights 
 communicated. The privileged classes, in the 
 dominant state, anxiously retained the whole 
 rights of government in their own hands, and 
 the jealous spirit of mercantile monopoly ruled 
 the fortunes of the state as much as it cramped 
 the energies of the subject territory. From free- 
 dom thus conhned, no general benefit could be 
 expected; on a basis thus narrowed, no struc- 
 ture of permanent duration erected. Even du- 
 ring their greatest prosperity, they were dis- 
 graced by perpetual discord springing from so 
 unjust and arbitrary an exclusion; and the 
 massy architecture of Florence still attests the 
 period when every noble family was prepared to 
 stand a siege in its own palace, in delence of the 
 rights which they sternly denied to their fellow- 
 citizens.* The rapid progress, and splendid 
 liistory of these aristocratic republics, may teach 
 us the animating influence of freedom, ev'cn 
 upon a limited class of society; their sudden 
 decline, and speedy loss of public spirit, were 
 the inevitable consequence of confining to a few 
 the rights which should be shared by a larger 
 circle. 
 
 Republics thus constituted were unable either 
 to withstand the shocks of adverse, or resist the 
 silent decay consequent upon prosperous for- 
 tune. The first great disaster stripped the state 
 of all its allies, and reduced it to the forces that 
 were to be found within its own walls. The 
 Venitian oligarchy gave no rights to the con- 
 quered provinces in the Trevisan March, though 
 the senate announced that, in sending them the 
 standard of St. Marc, it restored their liberties; 
 and, accordingly, in one day it was stripped of all 
 its possessions, and reduced to its original lim- 
 its within the lagunae of the capital. When 
 Florence reduced the rival republic of Pisa, she 
 received no addition of strength, because she 
 gave no community of power; and the troops 
 employed to keep the conquered state in subjec- 
 tion were so much lost to the victorious power. 
 The dissolution of the Athenian Confederacy 
 after the defeat before Syracuse, of the Lacede- 
 monian power af ler the battle of Leuctra, of the 
 Theban supremacy after the death of Epami- 
 nondas, have all their counterparts in the history 
 of modern Italy, when, on any serious reverse to 
 Venice, Florence, or Genoa,'the cities of which 
 they formed the head, broke off from a subjec- 
 tion which they hated, and joined the arms of 
 any invader, to destroy that invidious authority 
 in which they were not permitted to bear a part. 
 Without the disasters of fortune, the silent oper- 
 ation of time brought the weakness of age upon 
 communities who depended only on the energies 
 
 * Sism., Rep. Ital., 12, 16, 18, 21. 
 
 of the higher classes. The families in whose 
 hands the sovereign power was vested became 
 extinct from age, or enfeebled by opulence, and 
 no infusion of vigour from the inferior orders 
 took place to restore their energy ; the number 
 of citizens continually declined, while the dis- 
 contents of those subjected to their influence 
 incessantly increased. The experienced evils 
 arising from such a form of government led to a 
 very general dislike to its continuance; and to 
 avoid the ruinous contests of factions, as many 
 of the Italian republics made a voluntary sur- 
 render of their liberties as lost them from the 
 invasion of foreign power.* 
 
 The industry and wealth of Flanders early 
 nourished a free spirit, and the utmost Decline of 
 efforts were long made by the inhab- Flemish 
 itants of its cities for the maintenance freedom, 
 of their liberties. But its freedom was con- 
 fined to the burghers of the towns : the peas- 
 antry of the country joined their feudal lead- 
 ers in combating the rising influence of the 
 manufacturing classes ; and the jealousies of 
 rival industry generally prevented them from 
 joining in any common measure for the defence 
 of their independence. Once only an unhoped- 
 for victor)' roused the whole country to arms, 
 and a leader of greater military experience 
 might have established their freedom on a dura- 
 ble basis ; hut the burghers of Ghent had not the 
 firmness of the shepherds of Unterwalden, and 
 the victory of Resehccque crushed for centurie.s 
 the rising independence of commercial industrj', 
 under the barbarous yoke of feudal power.t 
 
 Experience, therefore, had demonstrated that 
 the freedom which rose from the independence 
 of the desert, equally with that which was nursed 
 in the bosom of cities, was liable to decay, and 
 that political wisdom was incapable of forming 
 a community in which the seeds of that decline 
 were not perceptible, which seemed the common 
 lot of earthly things. It became, in consequence, 
 a generally received opinion, that communities, 
 like individuals, had a certain period of life 
 allotted to them, which it was impossible, by 
 any means, to prolong beyond a certain period ; 
 and that a season of activity and vigour was 
 necessarily followed by one' of lassitude and 
 corruption. '• The image," says Mr. Ferguson, 
 " of youth and old age was applied to nations ; 
 and communities, like single men, were sup- 
 posed to have a period of life, and a length of 
 thread, which was spun by the Fates, in one 
 part uniform and strong, in another weakened 
 and shattered by use, to be cut when the des- 
 tined era is come, and to make way for a re- 
 newal of the emblem in the case of those who 
 rose in succession." — "Carthage,"t says Polyb- 
 ius, " being so much older than Rome, had 
 felt her decay so much the sooner," and the sur- 
 vivor too, he foresaw, earned in her bosom the 
 seeds of mortality. 
 
 But while such was imagined, from former 
 experience, to be the unavoidable fate c^uggg 
 of freedom wherever established, a va- which 
 riety of causes were silently operating, restored 
 which communicated an unknown en- ^'^<"^y- 
 erg)- to the social system, and infused into mod- 
 em states, even in periods of apparent decline, 
 a share of the undecaying youth of the human 
 race. 
 
 I. The first of these was the Christjan Reli- 
 gion. Slavery had been the ruin of all the 
 
 * Sism., xii., 16. 18, 21. Mach., iii., c. 27. 
 t B;ii^iitp, i., 42, 4.1. Sism., Fiance, xi., 249. 
 i Civil Society, 340. 
 
•28 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Influence of States of antiquity. The influence of 
 Christianity. Avealth Corrupted the higher orders; 
 and the lower, separated by a sullen line of de- 
 marcation from their superiors, furnished no ac- 
 cession of strength to revive their energies. But 
 the influence of a religion, which proclaimed the 
 universal equality of mankind in the sight of 
 Heaven, and addressed its revelations in an es- 
 pecial manner to the poor, destroyed this ruinous 
 distinction. In many states slavery gradually 
 yielded to the rising influence of Christianity ; 
 the religious houses were the first who emanci- 
 pated their vassals ; their exhortations were un- 
 ceasingly directed to extort the same concession 
 from the feudal barons, and on their domains 
 the first shoots of industrious freedom began to 
 spring. While the vassals of the military pro- 
 prietors were sunk in slaver}-, or lost in the 
 sloth which follows so degraded a state, indus- 
 try wa5 reviving under the shadow of the mo- 
 nastic walls, and the free vassals of the reli- 
 gious establishments were flourishing in the 
 comparative security of their superstitious pro- 
 lection. Nor was it only by the equality which 
 it proclaimed, and the security from violence 
 which it aflbrded, that the influence of religion 
 favoured the growth of freedom. By the enthu- 
 siasm which it awakened, from the universal 
 interests which it addressed, the mass of the peo- 
 ple were roused into political activity ; thou- 
 sands, to whom the blessings of liberty were 
 rmknown, and whose torpor no temporal con- 
 cerns could dispel, were roused by the voice of 
 religious fervour. The freedom of Greece, the 
 discipline of Macedonia, produced only a tran- 
 sient impression on human affairs ; but the fanat- 
 icism of Mohammed convulsed the globe. The 
 ardour of chivalry led the nobles into action ; the 
 ambition of monarchs brought the feudal retain- 
 ers into the field ; but the enthusiasm of the Cru- 
 sades awakened the dormant strength of the 
 Western world. With the growth of religious 
 zeal, therefore, the basis of freedom was im- 
 mensely extended ; into its ranks were brought, 
 not the transient ebullitions of popular excite- 
 ment, but the stem valour of fanaticism; and 
 that lasting support which neither the ardour of 
 the city, nor the independence of the desert, 
 could atibrd, was at length drawn from the fer- 
 vour of the cottage.* 
 
 II. While the minds of men were thus warm- 
 Art of ed by the religious enthusiasm which 
 pnnting. was awakened, first by the Crusades, 
 and subsequently by the Reformation, the Art 
 of Printing, destined to change the face of the 
 moral world, perpetuated the impressions thus 
 created, and widened the circle over which they 
 extended. The spirit of religious freedom was 
 no longer nourished only from the exhortations 
 of the pulpit, or wrought upon in the fen'our of 
 secluded congregations ; it breathed into the per- 
 manent exertions of human thought, and spread 
 with the increasing wealth and enlarged desires 
 of an opulent state of society. The discoveries 
 of science, the charms of genius, may attract a 
 few in every age ; but it is by religious emotion 
 that the great body of manldnd are chiefly to be 
 moved ; and it was by the diffusion of its enthu- 
 siasm, accordingly, that the greatest efforts of 
 European liberty were sustained. But the dif- 
 fusion of knowledge, by means of the press, is 
 not destined to awake "mere transient bursts of 
 popular feeling : by imbuing the minds of those 
 master-spirits who direct human thought, it pro- 
 
 * Tytler's Scotland. Hume's England. Abbfc Mann's 
 Flanders. 
 
 duces lasting impressions on society, and is per- 
 petually renewed in the successive generations, 
 who inhale, during the ardour of youth, the 
 maxims and the spirit of classical freedom. 
 The whole face of societj' has been modified by 
 this mighty discovery ; the causes of ancient de- 
 cay seemed counteracted by new principles of 
 life, derived from the multitudes whose talents 
 are brought to bear on the fortunes of the state ; 
 and the influence of despotic power, shaken by 
 the infusion of independent principles even into 
 the armies which are destined to enforce its au- 
 thority. But it is not uimiixed good which has 
 arisen from the diffusion of knowledge ; if the 
 principles of improvement have acquired a har- 
 dier growth, those of evil have been more gen- 
 erally disseminated ; the contests of society 
 have gro-wTi in magnitude and increased in vio- 
 lence, and the passions of nations been brought 
 into collision, instead of the ambition of indi- 
 viduals. In the progress of time, however, the 
 most injurious elements in human afl'airs are 
 gradually extinguished, while the causes of im- 
 provement are lasting in their effects ; the con- 
 tests of the Greek republics, the cruelty of the 
 Athenian democracy, have long ceased to trou- 
 ble the world ; but the maxims of Grecian virtue, 
 the works of Grecian genius, Mill pennanently 
 continue to elevate mankind. The turbulence, 
 the insecurity, the convulsions to which the ex- 
 tension of knowledge to the lower orders has 
 hitherto given rise, will in time be forgotten, but 
 the improved fabric of society which it has in- 
 duced, the increased vigour which it has com- 
 municated, may ultimately compensate all its 
 evils, ;md permanently bless and improve the 
 species.* 
 
 III. But it would have been in vain that the in- 
 fluence of religion withered the bands _ , 
 of slavery, and the extension of knowl- g^npowIcT 
 edge enlarged the capacity of free- destroyed 
 men, had no change occurred in the tl>e power of 
 arms by which the different classes ^^^ ""bihty. 
 of society combat each other. While the aris- 
 tocracy of the country were permanently trained 
 to combats, and the robber chivalry were inces- 
 santly occupied in devastation, the peaceable in- 
 habitants of cities, the rude labourers of the 
 fields, were unable to resist their attacks. With 
 the exception of the shepherds of the Alps, whose 
 hardy habits early gave their infantrj- the firm- 
 ness and discipline of veteran soldiers, the tu- 
 multuary levies of the people were everywhere 
 crushed by the steel-clad bands of the feudal no- 
 bility. The insurrections of the commons in 
 Fiance, of the peasants, in the time of Richard 
 II., in England, of the citizens of Ghent and 
 Liege in Flanders, and of the serfs in Germany, 
 were all suppressed by the superior arms and 
 steadier discipline of "the rural chivalry. But 
 with the discover}- of Gunpowder, this decisive 
 supremacy was destroyed : the feudal array, in- 
 vincible to the spears or halberds of the peasant- 
 ry, yielded to the teiTible powers of artiller}-; de- 
 fensive armour was abandoned, from a sense of 
 its insufficiency against these invisible assail- 
 ants ; and the weight of the aristocracy destroyed 
 by the experienced inability of its forces to com- 
 bat the discipline w-hich laborious industry could 
 bring into the field. The wealth of Flanders in 
 vain" contended with the lances of France on the 
 field of Resebecque; but the annies of Charles 
 V. were bafl3ed by the artillery of the United 
 Provinces. The barons of Richard easily dis- 
 
 ' Hume, Ti., 100. Mign., Rfev. Franc, i., 32. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 2a 
 
 persed the rabble who followed tlie standard of 
 Wat Tyler, but the tire of the English yeoman- 
 ry overthrew the squadrons of the Norman no- 
 bility at Marston Moor. Firearms are the great- 
 est of all levellers ; like the hand of death, they 
 prostrate equally the ranks of the poor and the 
 array of princes'. Wealth soon became essen- 
 tial to the prosecution of war, from the costly 
 implements which were brought into the field; 
 industry indispensable to success, from the rapid 
 consumption of the instruments of destruction 
 which attended the continuance of the contest. 
 By this momentous change new elements were 
 brought into action, which completely altered the 
 relative situations of the contending'parties : in- 
 dustry ceased to be defenceless, because it could 
 purchase the means of protection ; violence lost 
 its ascendency, because it withered the sinews 
 by which it was maintained.* 
 
 IV. The introduction of artificial wants, and 
 Increase of ^^^^ progress of luxury, completed 
 luxury tend- the destruction of the feudal power, 
 ed Co the When the elegances of life were com- 
 same effect, paratively unknown, and the barons 
 lived in rural magnificence on their estates, the 
 distribution of their wealth kept a multitude of 
 retainers round their castles, who were always 
 ready to support the authority from which they 
 derived their subsistence ; but by degrees the 
 progress of opulence brought the nobility to the 
 metropolis, the increa.se of luxury augmented 
 their expenses, and from that moment their as- 
 cendency was at an end. When the landed pro- 
 prietor squandered his wealth in the indulgence 
 of artificial desires, and seldom visited the halls 
 of his ancestors but to practise extortion upon 
 his tenantry, his means of maintaining war were 
 dissipated, and his influence over his people de- 
 stroyed. Interest ceased to be a bond of union, 
 w'ften no reciprocity of mutual serv^ices existed; 
 affeetion gradually expired, from the absence of 
 the Objects on which it was to be exerted. The 
 power of the feudal nobility was long the object 
 of apprehension, from the remembrance of its 
 terrors in former times, after its real influence 
 was dissolved. The importance of this change, 
 like that of all others introduced by nature, was 
 not perceived till its effects were manifested. 
 The aristocracy of France was still the object 
 of antiquated dread when it stood on the brink 
 of destruction, and the people were doubtful of 
 their ability to resist its power, when it sunk 
 without a struggle before the violence of its en- 
 emies. t 
 
 From the revival of letters, in the commence- 
 Combination '"^nt of the sixteenth centur)-, and 
 of these caus- the dawn of the Reformation, these 
 es in inducing causcs had been silcntlv operating, 
 Revor""*^ and Time, the greatest "of all inno- 
 evo ution. yators, was gradually changing the 
 face of the moral world. The stubborn valour 
 of the reformed religion had emancipated an in- 
 dustrious people from the yoke of Spain, and the 
 stern fanaticism of the English Puritans had 
 overthrown the power of the Nonnan nobility. 
 The extension of knowledge had shaken the 
 foundations of arbitrary power, and public opin- 
 ion, even in the least enlightened countries, mod- 
 erated the force of despotic sway. The worst 
 governed states in Europe were constitutional 
 monarchies compared to the dynasties of the 
 East, and the oppression even of Russian se- 
 verity was light in comparison of the cruelties 
 
 * Planta's Switzerland, i., 297. Sism., France, x., 533, 
 543. Hume, in., 10. Bar., i., 295. Hal., ii., 131. 
 t Wealth of Nations, i., 345. 
 
 of the Roman emperors. But it was not till the 
 commencement of the French Revolution that 
 the extent of the changes which had occurred 
 was perceived, and the weakness of the arms of 
 despotism felt when brought in collision with 
 the efforts of freedom. Standing armies had been 
 considered as the most fatal discovery of sover- 
 eigns, and the history of former ages appealed 
 to as illustrating their tendency to establish des- 
 potic authority ; but the changes of time were 
 wresting from the hands of tyranny even this 
 dreaded weapon, and, in the next convulsion, it 
 destroyed the power which had created it. The 
 sagacity of the French monarchs had trained up 
 these formidable bands as a counterpoise to the 
 power of the aristocracy, and they had rendered 
 the cro\\'n independent of the control of the feu- 
 dal barons ; but a greater wisdom than that of 
 Richelieu wa.s preparing, in their power and dis- 
 cipline, the means of a total change of society. 
 In vain the unfortunate Louis summoned his 
 annies to the capital, and appealed to their chiv- 
 alrous feelings against the violence of the peo- 
 ple ; the spirit of democracy had penetrated even 
 the ranks of the veteran soldiers, and, with the 
 revolt of the guards, the throne of the French 
 monarchy was destroyed.* 
 
 It is this circumstance which has created so 
 important a distinction between the progress of 
 popular power in recent, and its fate in ancient 
 times. Tyranny has everywhere prevailed, by 
 arming one portion of the people against the 
 other; and its chief reliance has hitherto been 
 placed on the troops, whose interests were iden- 
 tified with its support. But the progress of in- 
 formation has destroyed the security of despot- 
 ism, by dividing the affections of the armies on 
 which it depended; and the sovereigns of the 
 military monarchies in Europe have now more 
 to fear from the troops, whom they have form- 
 ed to be the instruments of their will, than 
 from the citizens, whom they regard as the ob- 
 jects of apprehension. The translation of the 
 sword from the nobility to the throne, so long 
 the subject of regret to the friends of freedom, 
 has thus become an important step in the eman- 
 cipation of mankind : War, amid all its horrors, 
 has contributed to the communication of knowl- 
 edge and the dispelling of prejudice ; and power 
 has ceased to be unassailable, because it ha.s 
 been transferred from a body v/hose interests are 
 permanent, to one whose attachments yield to 
 the changes of society. 
 
 The former history of the world is chiefly oc- 
 cupied with the struggles of freedom against 
 bondage ; the efforts of laborious industry to 
 emancipate itself from the yoke of aristocratic 
 power. Our sympathies are all with the op- 
 pressed, our fears lest the pristine servitude of 
 the species should be re-established; but with 
 the rise of the French Revolution, a new set of 
 perils have been developed, and the historian 
 finds himself ov^erwhelmed with the constant 
 survey ofrthe terrible evils of democratic oppres- 
 sion.» The causes which have been mentioned 
 have at length given such an extraordinar}' and 
 irresistible weight to the popular party, that the 
 danger now sets in from another quarter, and the 
 tyranny which is to be apprehended is not that 
 of the few over the many, but of the many over 
 the few. The obvious risk now is, that the in- 
 fluence of knowledge, virtue, and worth will be 
 overwhelmed in the vehemence of popular am- 
 bition or the turbulence of democratic power. 
 
 * Robertson's Charles V., i., 120. Comines, i., 384. Lac., 
 Hist, de France, v., 32. Mign., 14. 
 
30 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 This evil is of a far more acute and terrible kind 
 than the severity of regal or the weight of aris- 
 tocratic oppression : In a few years, when fully 
 developed, it destroys the whole frame of society, 
 and extinguishes the very elements of freedom, 
 by annihilating the classes whose intermixture 
 is essential to its existence. It is beneath this 
 fiery torrent that the civilized world is now pass- 
 ing, and all the efibrts of philosophy are there- 
 fore required to observe its course and mitigate 
 its devastation. Happy if the historian can find, 
 in the record of former suffering, aught to justity 
 future hope, or in the errors of past inexperience 
 the lessons of ultimate wisdom. 
 • It is by slow degrees and imperceptible addi- 
 tions that all the great changes of nature are ac- 
 complished* Vegetation, commencing with lich- 
 ens, swells to the riches and luxuriance of the 
 forest ; continents, the seat of empires and the 
 abode of millions, are fonned by the deposite of 
 innumerable rills; animal life, springing from 
 the torpid vitality of shellfish, rises to the energy 
 and power of man.» It is by similar steps and 
 as slow a progress that the great fabric of soci- 
 
 ety is formed. Regulated liberty, the chief spring 
 of human improvement, is of the most tardy de- 
 velopment; ages elapse before it acquires and 
 firm consistency; nations disappear during the 
 contest for its establishment. The continued 
 observation of this important truth is fitted both 
 to inspire hope and encourage moderation : hope, 
 by showing how unceasing has been the progress 
 of improvement through all the revolutions of 
 the world ; moderation, by demonstrating how 
 vain and dangerous are all attempts to outstrip 
 the march of nature, or confer upon one age the 
 institutions or habits of another. The annals 
 of the French Revolution, more than any other 
 event in human aSairs, are calculated to demon- 
 strate these important tmths ; and by evincing 
 in equally striking colours the irresistible growth 
 of liberty and the terrible evils of precipitate in- 
 novation, to impress moderation upon the rulers, 
 and caution upon the agitators of mankind, and 
 thus sever from the future progress of freedom 
 those bloody triumphs by wliich its past history 
 has been stained. * 
 
HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 COMPARATIVE PIIOGRKSS OF FREEDOM IN FRANCE 
 AND ENGLAND. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Parallel of the French and English Revolution. — Superior 
 Moderation and Humanity of tlic latter. — It arises from 
 the Extent of tlie Freed ^im previously aequjred by the 
 English. — Effects of the Cuniiuest of the Anglo-Saxons 
 and Danes on the Character of the People. — Great Re- 
 sults of the Norman Con(|uest. — It produced the Class of 
 Yeomanry, and the early Struggles for Liberty in the Isl- 
 and. — Power of the Crown under the Norman Princes. — 
 Insular Situation. — Anglo-Saxon Institutions. — Decline of 
 the Feudal Liberty. — Revived liy the Spirit of Religious 
 Freedom and tlie Reformation. — Ouelty of the Scotch 
 and Irish Civil Wars, and of the English in the Wars of 
 the Roses. — Causes of the Moderation and Cemency of 
 the Great Rebellion. — Early Situation of the French N.a- 
 tion. — The Champs de Mai. — Dcpiorable Situation of the 
 Native Gauls. — Their Couraj;e lirst resiorcd by the Civil 
 Wars of the Nobles. — Origin of tlie CorougliS.— Great 
 Vassals of the Crown.— Their Sovereign Piivileges. — 
 Fatal Effect of the Want of a Class of Yeonianry.— Conse- 
 quences of the English Wars. — Insurrection of the Jacq'ic- 
 rie. — E.xtinction of the Spirit of Freedom by the .Military 
 Power of the Crown. — The Residence of the Nobility at 
 Paris, and Power of the Great Feudatories.- Ell'ects of 
 the Standing .4.rniy, and the Military .Siiirit and Achieve- 
 ments of the Country. — Exclusive J'rivileges of the No- 
 bihty. — Small Progress of tlie Refonnalion. — Extrication 
 of the Power of Thought aud tiie Spirit of Freedom by the 
 Influence of Literature and Philosophy. — Causes of tlic 
 Savage Character of the I'rench Revolution — Hcneficial 
 ErTtcts of Periods of SulTeririg on National Chaiacter, 
 cxemplilicd by the History of France and England. 
 
 Xo events in history are more commonly con- 
 sidered parallel than the Great Rebellion in 
 England and the French Revolution. None, 
 ■with certain striking points of resemblance, are 
 in reality more dissimilar to each other. 
 
 In both, the crown v/as engageil in a contest 
 with the people, whicii terminated latally for the 
 royal family. In both, the reigning monarch 
 was brought to the sc;.',tfold, and the legislative 
 authority overturned by military force. In both, 
 the leader of the army mounted the throne, and 
 a brief period of military de.-potism was suc- 
 ceeded by the restoration of the legitim.ate rnon- 
 archs. So far the jiarallel holds good — in every 
 other particular it lails. 
 
 In England the contest was carried on for 
 Parallel of niany years, and with various suc- 
 the French cess, betv,-een the crown and a large 
 and English portion of the gentry on the one hand, 
 Revolutions, jjjj^-j jj.jg cities and popular party on 
 the other. In the single troop of tlragoons com- 
 manded by Lord Barnard Stuart, were to be 
 found a greater body of landed proprietors than 
 in the whole members of the republican party, 
 in both Houses of Parliament, who voted at the 
 commencement of the war. In t'rance the mon- 
 arch yielded, almost without a struggle, to the 
 encroachments of the people; and the only blood 
 which was shed in civil war arose from the en- 
 thusiasm of the peasants in La Vendue, or the 
 loyalty of the towns in the south of France, after 
 the leaders of the royal party had withdrawn 
 from the struggle. The great landholders and 
 privileged classes, to the number of 70,000, 
 abandoned the country ; and the crown was ul- 
 
 tnnately overturned, and the monarch brought 
 to the scaflbld, by a faction in Paris, which a 
 lew thousand resolute men could at iirst have 
 easily overcome, and who subsequently became 
 irresistible only from their having been permit- 
 ted 10 excite, through revolutionarv measures, 
 the cupidity of the lower orders over the whole 
 cotmiry.* 
 
 In proportion to the magnitude of the resist- 
 ance opposed in England to the encroachments 
 ol the people by the crown, the nobility, and the 
 iiigher classes of the landed proprietors, was the 
 moderation disj;layed bv both sides in the use of 
 victory, and the small "quantity of blood which 
 was Shed upon the scaffold. With the exception 
 ol the monarch and a few of the leading charac- 
 ters in the aristocratic party, no individual du- 
 ring the great rebellion perished by the hands of 
 the executioner; no pro.scriptions nor massacres 
 took place ; the victors and the vanquished, after 
 the termination of their strife, lived peaceably 
 lugether imder the republican government. In 
 France no resistance whatever was offered by 
 the government to the popular party. The sov- 
 ereign was more pacifically inclined than any 
 man in his dominions, and entertained a super- 
 stitious dread for the shedding of blood; the 
 democrats triumphed, without the loss of a sin- 
 gle life, over the throne, the church, and the 
 landed proprietors; and yet their successes, from 
 the very first, were stained by a degree of cruelty 
 of which the previous history of the world af- 
 fords no exainple.t 
 
 Religion, in the English Revolution, Avas the 
 great instrument for nioving mankind : even in 
 the reign of James I. the Puritans were the only 
 sect who were zealously attached to freedom; 
 and in every commotion which followed, the 
 civil contests between the contending parties 
 were considered as altogelher sub.ordinate to 
 their religious differences, not only bv the actors 
 on the scene, but the historians 'v-dio recorded 
 their proceedings. The pulpit was the fulcrum 
 on vv-hich the whole etrorts of the popular leaders 
 rested, and the once venerable fabric of the Eng- 
 lish monarchy, to which so large a portion of its 
 influential classes have in ever}' age of its his- 
 tory been attached, yielded at last to the force ot 
 fanatical phren,sy. In France, the influence of 
 religion was all exerted on the other side: the 
 peasants of La Vendee followed their pastors to 
 battle, and deemed themselves secure of salva- 
 tion when combating for the cross; while the 
 Jacobins of Paris founded their influence on the 
 ridicule of every species of devotion, and erected 
 the altar of Reason on the ruins of the Christiaji 
 faith. Nor was this irreligious fanaticism con 
 fined to the citizens of the metropolis : it perva- 
 ded equally every department of France where 
 the republican principles were embraced, and 
 every class of men who were attached to its for- 
 tunes. Everywhere the churches, during thff 
 
 » Lar., Pr. llist^ i., 246. Id., Hist, de France, ix., 230 
 Hume, Ti., 505 
 
 t Lao., vi., 132. Hume, vii.,76. Liiigard, xi., 8. T««l. 
 1., 145. Th., i., 30. 
 
32 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. I. 
 
 Reign of Terror, were closed ; the professors of 
 religion dispossessed, and their rights overturn- 
 ed ; and the first step towards the restoration of 
 a regular government were tlie restoration of 
 the temples which the whirlwind of anarch)- had 
 destroyed, and the revival of the faith which its 
 fury had extinguished.* 
 
 The civil war in England was a contest be- 
 Moderat.on ^ween one portion of the community 
 displayed ia and the Other ; but a large part oi the 
 the English adherents of the republican party 
 ciril wars. .^^.g,.g ([y^^y^ from the higher classes 
 of society, and the sons of the yeomanry filled 
 the ranks of the iron and disciplined bands of 
 Cromwell. No massacres or proscriptions took 
 place ; not a single manor-house was burned by 
 the populace; none of the odious features of 
 a servile war were to be seen. Notwithstanding 
 the dangers run and the hardships suffered on 
 "both sides, the moderation of the victorious par- 
 ty was such as to call forth the commendation 
 of the royal historian ; and, with the exceptions 
 of the death of the king, of Strafford, and Laud, 
 few acts of unnecessary cruelty stained the tri- 
 umph of the republican arms. In France, the 
 storming of the BastilQ was the signal for a 
 general dissolution of the bands of authority, and 
 a imiversal invasion of private property; the 
 peasantry on almost eveiy estate, from the Chan- 
 nel to the Pyrenees, rose against their landlords, 
 burned their houses, and plundered their effects; 
 and the higher ranks in ever}' part of 'he coun- 
 tcy, excepting La Vendee and the royalist dis- 
 tricts in its vicinity, were subjected to the most 
 revolting cruelties. The French Revolution 
 "was not a contest between such of the rich and 
 poor as maintained republican principles and 
 such of them as espoused the cause of the mon- 
 archy, but a universal insuiTection of the lower 
 orders against the higher. It was sufficient to 
 pui a man's life in danger, to expose his estate 
 to confiscation, and his family to banishment, 
 that he was, from any cause, elevated above the 
 populace. The gifts "of nature, destined to please 
 or bless mankind, the splendour of genius, the 
 powers of thought, the graces of beauty, were as 
 fatal to their possessors as the adventitious ad- 
 vantages of fortune or the invidious distinctions 
 of rank. " Liberty and Equality" was the uni- 
 versal cry of the" revolutionary party. Their 
 liberty consisted in the general spoliation of the 
 opulent classes ; their equality in the destruction 
 of all who outshone them in talent or exceeded 
 them in acquirement. t 
 
 The English Revolution terminated in the es- 
 tablishment of the rights for which the popular 
 party had contended, but the great features of 
 the constitution remained unchanged; the law 
 was administered on the old precedents even 
 during the usurpation of Cromwell,^ and the 
 great body of the people scarcely felt the im- 
 portant alteration which had been made in the 
 government of the country. In France, the tri- 
 umph of the popular party was followed by an 
 immediate change of institutions, private rights, 
 and laws ; the nobility in a single night sur- 
 rendered the whole privileges which they had 
 inherited from their ancestors; the descent of 
 property was turned into a diflerent channel by 
 the abolition of the rights of primogeniture, and 
 
 * Larochejaquclein, 74. Scott's Napoleon, ii., 241. Car- 
 not's Memoirs, 200. Rev. Mem., vol. iixvii. Lac., Pr. Hist., 
 .., 467. 
 
 t Home, 127, anJ v\'\., 76. Liog., xi., 8. Clarendon, vi., 
 551. Rivarol, 95, 96. 
 
 the administration of justice between man and 
 man founded on a new code destined to survive 
 the perishable empire of its author. Everything 
 in England remained the same after the Revo- 
 lution, with the exception of the privileges which 
 were confirmed to the people and the pretensions 
 which were abandoned by the crown. Every- 
 thing in France was altered without the exce]>- 
 tion even of the dynasty that ultimately obtain- 
 ed the throne.* 
 
 The great estates of England were little af- 
 fected by the Revolution; the nobles, the land- 
 owners, and the yeomanry alike retained their 
 possessions, and under a new form of govern- 
 ment the influence of property remained un- 
 changed. With the exception of the lands be- 
 longing to the dignitaries of the church, which 
 were put under a temporarj' sequestration, and 
 of the estates of a few obnoxious cavaliers, who 
 lost them by abandoning their country, no ma- 
 terial alterations in property took place; and 
 after the Restoration a compromise almost uni- 
 versally ensued, and the ancient landowners, by 
 the payment of a moderate composition, re- 
 gained their possessions. In France, on the 
 other hand, the whole landed property of the 
 church, and the greater part of that of the no- 
 bility, was confiscated during the Revolution; 
 and such was the influence of the new proprie- 
 tors, that the Bourbons were compelled, as the 
 fundamental condition of their restoration, to 
 guaranty the security of the revolutionary es- 
 tates. The effects of this diflerence have been 
 in the highest degree important. The whole 
 proprietors who live on the fruits of the soil in 
 Great Britain and Ireland at this moment, not- 
 withstanding the prodigious increase of wealth 
 which has since taken place, probablv do not 
 amount to 300,000. while above 3,000,0iX» heads 
 of families, and 15,000,000 of persons, depend- 
 ant on their labour, subsist on the wages they 
 receive. In France, on the other hand, there 
 are nearly 4,000,(MX> of proprietors, most of them 
 in a state of great indigence, and above 14,000,000 
 of souls, constituting their families, independant 
 of the wages of labour, being a greater number 
 than the whole remainder of the community. 
 In France the proprietors are as numerous as 
 the other members of the state ; in England they 
 hardly amount to a tenth part of their number .t 
 
 The political influence of England since the 
 Restoration has mainly rested in the great fami- 
 lies. A majority in the House of Commons 
 was long appointed by a certain number of the 
 House of Lords, and experience has proved 
 that, excepting in periods of uncommon na- 
 tional excitement, the ruling power in the state 
 is to be found in the hands of the principal land- 
 ed proprietors. In France, the Upper House is 
 comparatively insignificant ; a great proportion 
 of its members derive their subsistence from the 
 bount}- of the crown ; and the whole, neither di- 
 rectly nor indirectly, possess any serious weight 
 in the constitution. The struggle bequeathed 
 by the Revolution to succeeding ages has from 
 this cause become different in the two countries ; 
 in Britain, as in ancient Rome, it is between the 
 patricians and the plebeians : in France, as in 
 the djTiasty of the East, between the crown and 
 the people. This is the natural consequence of 
 the maintenance of the aristocracy in the one 
 
 * Ling., xi., 6. Rivarol, 139. 
 
 t Baron de Stael, 54. Lmgr.,xii., 20,21. Mign., ii., 403. 
 Colquhoun, 106, 107. Ganilh., 166, 208. Memoirs du Due 
 de Gaeta, ii., 334. 
 
ClIAP. I] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 33 
 
 country, and its destruction in the otJier; politi- 
 cal weight, in the end, always centres where the 
 greater part of the national property is to be 
 ibund. 
 
 The militar)' and naval power of England 
 was not materially changed by the great re- 
 bellion. A greater degree of discipline, indeed, 
 was established in its armies, and a more de- 
 cided tone adopted by the government in its 
 intercourse with foreign states ; but the external 
 relations of the monarchy remained the same ; 
 no permanent conquests were effected, and no 
 alteration in the balance of European power re- 
 sulted from its success. Within a few years 
 after the restoration, the English waged a doubt- 
 ful maritime war with the smallest state in Eu- 
 rope, and the mistress of the seas was compelled 
 to submit to humiliation from the fleets of an 
 inconsiderable republic. In France, on the other 
 hand, the first burst of popular fury was imme- 
 diately followed by an ardent and universal 
 passion for arms; the neighbouring states soon 
 yielded to the vigour of the revolutionar}' forces, 
 and Europe was shaken to its foundations by the 
 conquests which they achieved. The ancient 
 balance of power has been permanently destroy- 
 ed by the consequences of their exertions; at 
 first by the overwhelming influence which they 
 gave to the arms of France, at last by the as- 
 cendency acquired by the powers who subdued 
 them. 
 
 Discrepancies so great, consequences so va- 
 rious, cannot be explained by any reference to 
 the distinctions of national character, or of the 
 circumstances under which liberty arose in the 
 two countries. There is certainly a material 
 difl'erence between the character of the French 
 and that of the English, but not such a differ- 
 ence as to render the one revolution bloodless 
 save in the field, the other bloody in all but the 
 sovereign ; the one destructive to feudal power, 
 the other confirmative of aristocratic ascenden- 
 cy; the one subversive of order and religion, 
 the other dependant on the attachments which 
 they had created. There is a difference between 
 the circumstances of the two countries at the 
 period when their respective revolutions arose, 
 but not such as to make the contest in the one 
 the foundation of a new distribution of property 
 and a diflerent balance of power, the other the 
 chief means of maintaining the subsisting inter- 
 ests of society and the existing equilibrium in 
 the world. 
 
 The insurrection of slaves is the most dread- 
 ful of all commotions : the West India negroes 
 exterminate by fire and sword the property and 
 lives of their masters. Universally the strength 
 of the reaction is proportioned to the oppression 
 of the weight which is thrown off; the recoil is 
 most to be feared when the bow has been far- 
 thest bent from its natural form. Fear is the 
 real source of cruelty ; men massacre others 
 because they are apprehensive of death them- 
 selves. Property is set at naught where the ag- 
 gressors have nothing to lose; it is respected 
 when the gaining party have grown up under 
 the influence of its attachments. Revolutions 
 are comparatively bloodless when the influen- 
 tial classes guide the movements of the people, 
 and sedulously abstain from exciting their pas- 
 sions ; they are the most terrible of all contests, 
 when property is arrayed on the one side and 
 numbers on the other. The slaves of St. Do- 
 mingo exceeded the horrors of the Parisian pop- 
 ulace ; the American revolution differed but little 
 Vol. I.— E 
 
 from the usages of civilized war. These prin- 
 ciples are universally recognised ; the difficulty 
 consists in discovering what causes brought the 
 one set to operate in the English, the other in 
 the French Revolution. 
 
 These causes arc to be found in the former 
 history of the two countries; and a rapid survey 
 of their different circumstances will best show 
 the different character which was stamped upon 
 the two contests by the previous acquisitions or 
 losses of their forefathers. 
 
 The vast extent of the Roman Empire gave 
 centuries of repose to the inhabitants . , „ ^ 
 
 , 1^ . -,-- Arises from 
 
 01 Its central provmces. Wars were freejom pre- 
 carried on on the frontier alone ; and viously gam- 
 the legions, chiefly recruited by mer- ^ ^y t^c 
 cenar)' bands drawn from the semi- "^ ^ ' 
 barbarous states on the verge of the imperial 
 dominions, presented scarcely any resemblance 
 to the legions which had given to the republic 
 the empire of the world.' The emperors, de- 
 parting from the generous maxims of the repub- 
 lican government, oppressed the subject provin- 
 ces by the most arbii'rary exactions, and seldom 
 allowed their inhabitants to hold any official sit- 
 uations, or participate in any importannt respect 
 in the powers of government. The ignorance 
 which universally prevailed was almost as great 
 as that of England in the time of Alfred, when 
 not a clergyman to the south of the Thames 
 could read." From the long continuance of 
 these circumstances during many successive 
 generations, the spirit of the people throughout 
 the whole Roman Empire was totally extin- 
 guished, and they became alike incapable of 
 combating for their lives with the enemies of 
 their country, or of contending for their liber- 
 ties with despots on the throne. The pusilla- 
 nimity with which its inhabitants, during a se- 
 ries of ages, submitted to the spoliation of bar- 
 barous enemies, and the exactions of unbridled 
 t}Tants, would appear incredible,* were it not 
 only supported by the concurring testimony of 
 all historians, but found by experience to be the 
 uniform attendant on a continued state of pa- 
 cific enjoyment. 
 
 The British and the Gauls, at the period of 
 the overthrow of the empire, were alike sunk in 
 this state of political degradation. The inhab- 
 itants to the south of the wall of Severus were 
 speedily overrun, upon 'the removal of the Ro- 
 man legions, by the savages issuing from the 
 recesses of Caledonia, and the British leaders 
 bewailed in pathetic strains their inability to 
 contend with an artless and contemptible enemy. 
 Notwithstanding the extraordinary' militar}' tal- 
 ents of Aetius, the Gauls were soon overrun by 
 their barbarous neighbours ; and a small tribe, 
 emerging from the centre of Germany, became 
 permanent masters of the plains of France. 
 The Anglo-Saxons gradually vanquished the 
 helpless Britons, and gave its lasting appella- 
 tion to the future mistress of the waves.t 
 
 These conquests in both countries were, as 
 already noticed, l attended in the end by a com- 
 plete and violent change of landed property, and 
 an immediate prostration of a considerable part 
 of the vanquished people to the rank of slaves 
 on the estates of their forefathers. This last 
 and greatest humiliation, consequent upon a 
 
 ♦ Gibbon, iii., 66, 67. Turner's Anglo-Saxons, i., 184, 
 189, and ii., 6, 8. Sism., France, i., 74, 77. Hume, i. 
 t Sism., Hist, (le France, i., 201. Hume, i., 26, 29. 
 t See Introduction. 
 
34 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. I. 
 
 long train of political and military oppressions, 
 completed the apath}' and dejection of the great 
 body of the people, and might have finally ex- 
 tinguished, as in the dyna^ities of the East, all 
 desire of independence in their descendants, had 
 not misfortunes arisen with Iheir invigorating 
 influence, and mankind regained in the school 
 of adversity the spirit w hicli they had lost in 
 prosperous ages.* 
 
 The long and obstinate conflicts which the 
 Effects of Anglo-Saxons had to maintain, first 
 Anglo- with the natives, and afterward with 
 Saxoii and each Other, were the first cause which, 
 Danish in the British isles, revived the energy 
 conquests. ^^- ^^^ people. These wars were not 
 the transient result of ambition or the strife of 
 kings, conducted by regular armies, but the 
 fierce contests of one race with another, strug- 
 gling for all that man holds dear — their lives, 
 their religion, their language, and their posses- 
 sions, for five long centuries the fields of Eng- 
 land were incessantly Qrenched with blood ; ev- 
 erj' county was in its turn the scene of mortal 
 strife, and every tribe was successively driven 
 by despair to manly exertion ; imtil, at length, 
 the effeminate character of the natives was com- 
 pletely changed, while their conquerors were 
 prevented from sinking into the corruption, 
 which in general rapidly follows success in bar- 
 barous times. The small divisions of the Sax- 
 on kingdoms, by producing incessant domestic 
 warfare, and bringing home the necessity for 
 courage to every cottager, eminently contributed 
 in this way to the formation of the national char- 
 acter. Milton has said that the wars of the 
 Heptarchy were not more deserving of being 
 recorded than the skirmishes of crows and kites. 
 He would have been nearer the truth if he had 
 said that they laid the original foundation of 
 the English character.t 
 
 In this particular, as in many others, the m- 
 sular situation of Britain eminently contributed 
 to the formation of the national character. The 
 other provinces of the Roman Empire were 
 overrun at once, because a vast and irresistible 
 horde suddenly broke in upon them, which they 
 had no means of resisting. The settlement of 
 the Franks in Gaul, of the Visigoths in Spain, 
 of the Vandals in Africa, and of the Goths, 
 and afterward the Lombards, in Italy, all took 
 place in a single generation. But the seagirt 
 shores of England could not be assailed by such 
 a sudden and iiTcsistible irruption of enemies. 
 " The blue-eyed myriads from the Baltic coasts" 
 arrived by slow degrees, in squadrons and small 
 fleets, none of which appear to have conveyed 
 at once above six thousand or eight thousand 
 men, most of them only one thousand or fifteen 
 hundred. The people were thus encouraged to 
 resist, by the inconsiderable number of enemies 
 which made their appearaiice on any one occa- 
 sion; and although fresh invaders incessantly 
 appeared, yet they generally assailed difierent 
 districts, in the hope of discovering hitherto un- 
 touched fields of plunder. The spirit of the na- 
 tion was thus called foith, both by the variety of 
 points which were assailed, and the encourage- 
 ment to local resistance which arose from the 
 prospect, and frequently the achievement of suc- 
 cess : and the northern inundation, instead of be- 
 ing a flood which at once overwhelmed the van- 
 squished people, and for centuries extinguished 
 
 ' ThieiTy, ii., 27. Turn., Anglo-SaxoDB, i., 37. Home, 
 i., 67. 
 
 t Hume, i., 42, 97. Sism., France, i., 400, 40!. 
 
 their energy, produced rather a perpetual strife, 
 in the course of which the warlike virtues were 
 regained which had been lost amid the tranquil- 
 lity of the Roman Empire.* 
 
 The exposure of the English to the piratical 
 incursions of the Danes perpetuated this martial 
 spirit, after the union of the country into one 
 monarchy might otherivise have threatened its 
 extinction; and, by compelling the government 
 for many generations to put arms into the hands 
 of the great body of the people, whether Saxons 
 or Britons, spread an independent feeling over 
 the whole population. To resist these merciless 
 invaders, the whole strength of the kingdom was 
 trained to the use of arms, and the earls of the 
 counties summoned to their support every man 
 within their bounds capable of wielding a hal- 
 berd. By an ordinance of Alfred, a regular mi- 
 litia was established throughout the realm; and 
 it was enacted that the whole people should be 
 registered and armed. That great monarch 
 fought no less than fifty-six battles in person 
 with the invaders, and established at the same 
 time the great rudiments of the English constitu- 
 tion, by the institution of courts of justice, trial 
 by jury, and regular meetings of Parliament.t 
 
 The natural consequence of these circumstan- 
 ces was tJie formation of a bold and independent 
 character, not onh' among the landed proprietors, 
 but the peasantry, upon whose support they daily 
 depended for defence against a roving but inde- 
 fatigable enemy. Accordingly, from the earliest 
 times, the free tenants bore an important part 
 among the Anglo-Saxons, and were considered 
 as the companions, rather than the followers, of 
 their chieftains. Like the Coviiles among the 
 ancient Germans, they vvxre the attendants of 
 their leaders in peace, and their strength and 
 protection in war. The infantry, in which the 
 chiefs and their followers fought together, was, 
 even before the Conquest, the chief strength of 
 the English armies ; while the cavalry, in whose 
 ranks the nobles alone appeared, constituted the 
 pride of the Continental lorces ; and this differ- 
 ence was so material, that it appears to this day 
 in the language of these different states. In all 
 the states of the Continent, the word Chevalkr is 
 derived from, and means a hors'iman ; whQe in 
 England the corresponding word knight has no 
 reference to any distinction in the mode of fight- 
 ing, but comes from the Gernian cnijcM, a young 
 man or companion.: 
 
 But, notwithstanding the strong principles of 
 freedom wliich the Saxons brought with them 
 from their original seats in Germany, the causes 
 which have proved fatal to its existence in so 
 many other states were here in full operation, 
 and would have destroyed all liberty in England 
 but for the occurrence which is usually consid- 
 ered as the most calamitous in its history. The 
 Saxons imported from the Continent the usual 
 distinction between freemen and slaves, and the 
 number of the latter class augmented to a most 
 fearful degree during the long wai's of the Hep- 
 tarchy, in which the prisoners were almost uni- 
 versally reduced to captivity. At the time of the 
 Conquest, in consequence, the greater part of the 
 land in the kingdom was cultivated by slaves, 
 who constituted by far the most numerous class 
 in the community ; and tlie free tenants were ex- 
 tremely few in comparison. These slaves, in 
 process of time, would have constituted the whole 
 
 * Markintosh's Enjlaml, i., 30. 
 
 t Hums. 1., 95. 96, 102. 103, 107. 
 
 t Thierry, i., 162 , ii., 160. Tac., Mar. Gorm., c. 21, H. 
 
CUAP. I.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 35 
 
 lower orders of ihe state ; and thn descendants 
 of the freemen gradually dwindled into an aris- 
 tocratical order. The greatest increase ofnian- 
 kind is always found in the lowest class of soci- 
 ety, because it is in them that the principle of 
 population is least restrained by prudential con- 
 siderations; the higher orders, so far Irom mul- 
 tiplying, are never able, without additions from 
 below, to maintain their oAvn numbers. This 
 is the fundamental principle which has rendered 
 the maintenance ot liberty for any long period 
 so extremely difficult in all ages of the world. 
 The descendants of the poor are continually in 
 creasing, while those of the middling or higher 
 orders are unilbrmly diminishing. The hum- 
 blest class, having least political weight, are 
 overlooked in the first struggles for freedom : the 
 free citi^en.s who have acquired privileges, re- 
 sist the extension of them to their inferiors : the 
 descendants of the people in one age become the 
 privileged order in the next; and on the basis of 
 pristine liberty, aristocratic oppression is ulti- 
 matelv established.* 
 
 This change had already begun to operate in 
 this island; the descendants of the first Anglo- 
 Saxon settlers had already become a distinct 
 class of nobles; the unhappy race of slaves had 
 immensely multiplied ; and, notwithstanding its 
 original principles of freedom, the Anglo-Saxon 
 constitution had become extremely aristocrat- 
 ical. No middle class was recognised in society ; 
 the peasants were all enrolled, for the sake of 
 protection, under some chieftain, whom they 
 were bound to obey in pi'eference even to the 
 sovereign; and the industrious classes were so 
 extremely scanty, that York, the second city in 
 the kingdom, contained only 1100 families. The 
 freedom of the Anglo-Saxons, therefore, was 
 fast running into aristocracy : and their descend- 
 ants, like the hidalgos of Spain, or the nobil- 
 ity of France, might have been left in the en- 
 joyment of ruinous exclusive privileges, when 
 the current of events was altered, and they were 
 forcibly blended with their inferiors by one of 
 those catastrophes which seem destined by Prov- 
 idence to an'est the course of human degrada- 
 tion. This event was the Norman CoxauKST.t 
 As this was the last of the great settlements 
 Great effects which have taken place in modem 
 of the Norman Europe, SO it was by far the most 
 conquest. violent and oppressive. The first 
 settlers in the provinces of the Roman Empire, 
 being ignorant of the use of wealth, and totally 
 unacquainted with the luxuries of life, deemed 
 themselves fortunately established when they 
 obtained a part of the vanquished lands. But 
 the needy adventurers who followed the stand- 
 ard of William had already acquired expensive 
 habits, their desires were insatiable, and to grat- 
 ify their demands almost the whole landed prop- 
 erty of England was in a few years confiscated. 
 Hardly any conquest since the fall of Rome has 
 been so violent, or attended with so much spolia- 
 tion, contumely, and insult. The ancient Sax- 
 ori proprietor was frequently reduced to the rank 
 ot a serf on his paternal estate, and nourished 
 m the meanest emplo\Tnents an inextinguisha- 
 ble hatred at his oppressor : maidens of the high- 
 est rank- were compelled to take the veil, in or- 
 der to preserve their persons from Norman vio- 
 lence ; tortures of the most cruel kind invented 
 to extort from the miserable people their hidden 
 
 * Hume, i., 213, 216. 
 t Hume, i., 210, 219. 
 
 Brady, Pref., 7, 9. 
 Brady, 10. 
 
 treasures. In the suppression of the great re- 
 bellion in the north of England, the most savage 
 measures were put in Ibrce. A tract eighty 
 miles broad to the north of the Humber was laid 
 waste, and above a hundred thousand persons in 
 consequence perished of famine; while in Hamp- 
 shire, a district of country thirty miles in extent 
 was depopulated, and the inhabitants expelled, 
 without any compensation, to form a forest for 
 the royal pleasure. Nor were these grievances 
 merely the temporary efl^'usion of hostile revenge ; 
 they formed, on the contrary, the settled maxims 
 by which the government for centuries was reg- 
 ulated, and from which the successors of the 
 Conqueror were driven by necessity alone. For 
 several reigns, it was an invariable rule to ad- 
 mit no native of the island to any office of im- 
 portance, ecclesiastical, civil, or military. In 
 the reign of Henry I., all places of trust were 
 still in the hands of the Normans ; and so late 
 as the beginning of the 12th centurj', the same 
 arbitrary system of exclusion seems to have 
 been rigidly enforced. The dispossessed pro- 
 prietors sought in vain to regain their estates. 
 An array of sixty thousand Norman horsemen 
 was always ready to support the pretensions of 
 the intruding barons. The throne is still filled 
 by the descendants of the Conqueror, and the 
 greatest families in the realm date their origin 
 from the battle of Hastings.* 
 
 The English antiquarians, alanned at the con- 
 sequences which might be deduced from this vi- 
 olent usurpation, have endeavoured to soften its 
 features, and to represent the Nonnan as reign- 
 ing rather by the consent than the subjugation 
 of the Saxori inhabitants. In truth, however, it 
 was the severity and continued weight of this 
 conqviest w hich was the real cause of the refrac- 
 tory spirit of the English people. The princi- 
 ples of liberty spread their roots the deeper, just 
 because they were prevented from rising to the 
 surface of society.t 
 
 The Saxon proprietors having been almost 
 expelled, were necessarily cast down jt produced 
 
 into the lower stations of life. A the yeomanry 
 
 foundation was thus laid for a mid- °^ England, 
 dling rank in society, totally different from what 
 obtained in any other state in Europe. It was 
 not the native inhabitants, the pusillanimous 
 subjects of the Roman Empire, who from that 
 period composed the lower orders of the state 
 but the descendants of the free Anglo-Saxon and 
 Danish settlers, who had acquired independent 
 habits from the enjoyment of centuries of free- 
 dom, and courageous feelings from the recollec- 
 tions of a long series of successes. One defeat 
 could not extinguish the recollection of a hun- 
 dred victories. Habits, the growth of ages, sur- 
 vived the oppression of transient sovereigns. 
 The power of the Normans prevented them from 
 rising into the higher stations in society; the 
 slaves already filled the lowest walks of life. 
 Between the two, they foimed a sturdy and pow- 
 erful body, which neither withered in the con- 
 tests of feudal power, nor perished in the obscu- 
 rity of ignoble bondage. It was from this cause 
 that the ycomanni of England took their rise. 
 
 Had the kingdom of England been but an ap- 
 pendage to a monarchyof greater extent, the dis- 
 contents of this middling class would probably 
 have been treated with contempt, or repressed 
 by the stem hand of military power; and the 
 
 * Hume, i., 260, 279, 283, 2B4, 318. Thierry, ii., 21, 27, 
 96, 97, 260, 303. 304, 368. Guizot, Hist. Eur., ch. ii. 
 t Clackstaue, i., 27. 
 
36 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. 1. 
 
 Norman barons, residing in their castles in 
 France, might have safely disregarded the im- 
 potent clamour of their English tenantry. But, 
 by a fortunate combination of circumstances, 
 this was rendered impossible. The military 
 chieftains who followed the Conqueror, were 
 either possessed of no estates on the other side 
 of the Channel, or their recent acquisitions great- 
 ly exceeded the value of their continental pos- 
 sessions. The kingdom of England was too 
 powerful to be treated as an appendage of a Nor- 
 man duchy, and tiie English tenantry too formi- 
 dable to beresigned to the oppressive government 
 of an absent nobility. Hence both the sovereign 
 and his nobles made England their principal res- 
 idence; and the Norman nobility, who at first 
 had flattered themselves that they had gained an 
 appendage to their duchy, soon found, like the 
 Scotch upon the accession of their monarchs to 
 the English throne, that they had changed places 
 with their supposed subjects, and that the prov- 
 ince was become the ruling pov.-er. 
 
 The effects of this necessitj' soon appeared in 
 the measures of government. At the accession 
 of each successive monarch, in every crisis of 
 national danger, it was deemed indispensable to 
 make some sacrifice to the popular wishes, and 
 abate a little of the wonted severity of the Nor- 
 man rule, to secure the fidelity of their English 
 subjects. When Henry I. came to the throne, 
 his first step was to grant the famous charier, 
 which was long referred to as the foundation of 
 English liberties, in order to secure the support 
 of his insular subjects against the preferable 
 claims of his brother Robert; and, in conse- 
 quence, he was enabled to lead a victorious 
 army into Normandy, and revenge, on the field 
 of Tenchebray, the slaughter and the calamities 
 of Hastings. When Stephen seized the sceptre, 
 he instantly passed a charter confirming the 
 grants of Henry, and promising to remit the 
 Danish tax, and restore the laws of Edward the 
 Confessor. Henry II. deemed it prudent, in the 
 most solemn manner, to ratify the same instru- 
 ment. The pusillanimity and disasters of John 
 led to the extortion of Magna Charta, by which 
 the old charter of Henry I. was again confirmed, 
 and the rights of all classes of freemen enlarged 
 and established; and the great charter itself was 
 ratified no less than two-and-thirty different 
 times in the succeeding reigns, on occasion of 
 €very extraordinary grant from the subjects, or 
 an unusual weakness of the crown.* 
 
 The effects of these circumstances on the 
 Aud the early character and objects of the English 
 struggles fur Struggles for freedom have been in 
 freedom. the highest degree important. From 
 
 perpetually recurring to the past, the habit was 
 acquired of regarding liberty, not as a boon to 
 be gained, but as a right to be vindicated; not 
 as an invasion of the constitution, but a restora- 
 tion of its pristine purity. The love of freedom 
 came thus to be inseparably blended with the 
 veneration for antiquity; the privileges of the 
 people were sought for, not in the violation of 
 present, but in the restitution of ancient right ; 
 not in the work of destruction, but in that of 
 pre-^ervation. The passion for liberty was thus 
 divesleJ of its most dangerous consequences by 
 being separated from the desire for innovation. 
 The progress of the constitution was marked, 
 not by successive changes, but repeated confir- 
 
 * Eiidiner, 90. Hume, i , 328, 351 ; ii , 74, 81. 
 Maluisbury, 179. M. Pans, 38, 272. Ilallam, i., 452. 
 
 mations of subsisting rights ; and the eflTects of 
 freedom in England, instead of being directed, 
 as in most other countries, to procure an expan- 
 sion of the rights of the people in proportion to 
 the progress of society, have been almost en- 
 tirely confined to ati unceasing endeavour to 
 prevent their contraction by the arbitrary dispo- 
 sition of succeeding monarchs. 
 
 The same circumstances produced a remarka- 
 ble effect on the current of public feeling in Eng- 
 land, and the objects which were regarded as 
 the subject of national anxiety by the great body 
 of the people. They mingled the recollection 
 of their ancient laws with the days of their 
 national independence, and looked back to the 
 reign of Edv.-ard the Confessor as the happy era 
 when their rights and properties were secure, 
 and they had not yet tasted of the severity of 
 foreign dominion. Hence the struggles of free- 
 dom in England acquired a definite and practi- 
 cable object, and, instead of being wasted in as- 
 pirations after visionary schemes, settled down 
 into a strong and inextinguishable desire for the 
 restoration of an order of things once actually 
 established, and of which the experienced bene- 
 fits vrere still engraved on the recollections of 
 the people. For several centuries, accordingly, 
 the continued effort of the English people was to 
 obtain the restitution of their Saxon privileges ; 
 they were solemnly recognised in MagJia Chart-a, 
 and ratified in the different confirmations of that 
 solemn instrument ; and they are still, after the 
 lapse of a thousand years, looked back to with 
 interest by historians, as the original founda- 
 tions of English libert}^* 
 
 The effects of the same causes appeared in 
 the most striking manner in the wars of the 
 English for several centuries after the Norman 
 Conquest. Their neighbours, the French and 
 the Scotch, brought into the field only the chiv- 
 alr)' of the barons and the spearmen of their 
 serfs. No middling order was to be found su- 
 perior to the common billman or foot-soldier, 
 but inferior to the mounted knight. But, in ad- 
 dition to these, the Plantagenet monarchs ap- 
 peared at the head of a vast and skilful body of 
 archers, a force peculiar to England, because it 
 alone possessed the class from whom it could be 
 formed. It was the Saxon outlaws, driven by 
 despair into the numerous forests with which 
 the cotintry abounded, who first, from necessity, 
 obtained a perfect mastery of this weapon ; and, 
 accordingly, the graphic novelist, with historic 
 truth, makes Norman Richard the leader of 
 English chivalry, and Robin Hood, the prince 
 of Saxon outlaws, the first of British marksmen. 
 It was their descendants who swelled the ranks 
 of the English yeomanry, and constituted a 
 powerful body in war, formidable from their 
 skill, their numbers, and their independent spirit. 
 The bow continued for ages to be the favourite 
 national weapon of the Saxons. They practised 
 the art incessantly in their amusements, and re- 
 gained, by its importance in the field of battle, 
 their due weight in the government of their 
 country. Not the Norman nobility, not the 
 feudal retainers gained the victories of Cressy 
 and Poictiers, for they were fully matched in the 
 ranks of France, but the yeomen who drew the 
 bow with strong and steady arms, accustomed to 
 its use in their native fields, and rendered fear- 
 less by personal competence and civil freedom.t 
 
 * Ilallam, i.,451, 452. M. Paris. 272. 
 t Ilallam, i., 75. Fri)issart, i., 16. Tytler's Sr.ollaud, 
 ii., 43y, 440. Sism., France, xii., 51. 
 
Chap. I.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 TSt 
 
 The Scotch government, whose armies had 
 suffered so often from the English archers, in 
 vain passed repealed acts to compel the Ibrma- 
 tion of a similar force in their own countr}'. All 
 these measures proved ineffectual, because the 
 yeomanry •were wanting who tilled the ranks 
 of the bowmen in the English armies. The 
 French kings endeavoured, by mercenary troops 
 drawn from the mountains ot Genoa, to provide 
 a match for the English archers; but the jeal- 
 ousy of their government, which prevented the 
 middling orders from being allowed the use of 
 arms, rendered all such attempts nugatory ; and 
 the English, in consequence, twice vanquished 
 their greatest armies, and marched boldly through 
 the country at the head of the Saxon yeomanry. 
 Even after the cessation of hostilities between 
 the two monarchies, the terrible English bands 
 ravaged with impunity the provinces of France ; 
 nor did they ever experience any considerable 
 check till they approached the Swiss mountains, 
 and encountered at the cemetery of Bale peas- 
 aaits as free, as sturdy, and as courageous as 
 themselves.* 
 
 It was a singular combination of circumstan- 
 ces which rendered the middling ranks under the 
 Norman princes so powerful, both in the mili- 
 tary array of the state, and in the maintenance 
 of their civil rights. The IVorman Conquest had 
 laid the foundation of such a class, by dispos- 
 sessing the numerous body of Saxon proprietors ; 
 but it was the subsequent necessities of the sov- 
 ereign and the nobles, arising from their insular 
 situation and their frequent contests witli each 
 other, which compelled them to foster the Saxon 
 troops, and avail themselves of that powerful 
 force which they fjund existing in such perfec- 
 tion among their native foresLs. Cut off by the 
 ocean from their feudal brethren on the Conti- 
 nent, surrounded by a numerous and warlike 
 people, the barons perceived that, without the 
 support of their yeomanrj'^, they could neither 
 maintain their struggles with the sovereign, nor 
 ensure the possession of their estates. The 
 
 firivileges, therefore, of this class were anxious- 
 y attended to in all the renewals of the great 
 charier; and their strength was carefully foster- 
 ed as the main security both of the crown and 
 the barons in their extensive and unsettled insu- 
 lar possessions. It is considered by William of 
 Malmsbury as an especial work of Providence, 
 that so great a people as the English should have 
 given up all for lost after the destruction of so 
 small an army .as that which fought at Hastings ; 
 but it was precisely the magnitude of this dis- 
 
 ?iroportion v."hich perpetuated and extended the 
 reedom of the country. Had the Normans not 
 succeeded, the free Saxons would have dwindled 
 into a feudal aristocracy, and the peasantr}' of 
 England been similar in their condition to the 
 serfs of France; had an overwhelming power 
 vanquished, it would have utterly crushed the 
 conquered people, the Norman Conquest been 
 similar in its effects to the subjugation of the 
 neighbouring i.sland, and the tields of England 
 been now choked by the crowds and the wretch- 
 edness of Ireland. It was the conquest of the 
 country by a force which, though formidable at 
 first, became soon disproportioned to the strength 
 of the subdued realm, which both created a mid- 
 dling class and secured its privileges ; and, by 
 blending the interests of the victor with those of 
 
 * Planta's Switzerland, ii., 321. Tytler's Scotland, ii., 
 439. Sisra., France, xii., 51. Barante, i., 80. Preface. 
 
 the vanquished, at length ingrafted the vigour 
 of Norman enterprise on the steady spirit ot 
 English freedom.* 
 
 In this view, the loss of the continental prov- 
 inces in the reign of King John, and the sub- 
 sequent long wars between France and En°-- 
 land under the Plantagcnet princes, contributed 
 strongly to the preservation of English liberty 
 by severing all connexion between the barons 
 and their kinsmen on the Continent, and throw- 
 ing both the sovereigns and the nobility for their 
 chief support upon the tenantry of their estates. 
 From the commencement of these contests, ac- 
 cordingly, the distinction between Norman and 
 English disappeared ; the ancient prejudices and 
 pride of the Normans yielded to the stronger 
 feeling of antipathy at their common enemies ; 
 English became the ordinary language both of 
 the higher and the lower orders, and the English 
 institutions the object of veneration to the de- 
 scendants of the ver}' conquerors who had over- 
 turned them. The continual want of money, 
 which the long duration of this desperate strug- 
 gle occasioned to the crown, strengthened the 
 influence of English freedom ; each successive 
 grant by the barons was accompanied by a con- 
 lirmation of ancient rights ; the commons, from 
 the constant use of arms, came to feel their own 
 weight, and to assert their ancient privileges; 
 and at length England, under the Plantagenet 
 sovereigns, regained as much" liberty as it had 
 ever enjoyed under the rale of its Saxon mon- 
 archs.t 
 
 Three circumstances cormected with the Nor- 
 man Conquest contributed in a remarkable man- 
 ner to the preservation of a free spirit among the 
 barons and commons of England. 
 
 1st. The first of these was the great weight 
 which the crown acquired, from the Power of 
 ample share of the conquered lands 'he crown 
 which were allotted to the sovereign Norman^ 
 at the Conquest. William received no kings, 
 less than 1422 manors for his proportion ; a pat- 
 rimony far greater than was enjoyed lay any 
 sovereign in Europe at the same period. The 
 consequence was, that the turbulent spirit of the 
 barons was far more effectually checked in this 
 island than in the continental states ; the mon- 
 arch could generally crush by his sentence any 
 obnoxious nobleman ; his courts of justice ex- 
 tended their jurisdiction into every part of the 
 kingdom ; and the essential prerogatives of the 
 crown, those of coining money and repressing 
 private wars, were never, except in reigns of 
 unusual weakness, usurped by the subjects. For 
 a century and a half after the Conquest, the au- 
 thority of the Norman sovereigns was incom- 
 parably more extensive than that of any of the 
 other monarchs who had settled on the ruins of 
 the Roman Empire. The industiy and wealtli 
 of the commons was thus more completely pro- 
 tected in England than in the neighbouring 
 
 * William of Malmsbury, 53. ILill., i. 449. 
 
 Lon? after these pajes were written, I had the high sat- 
 isfaction of finding- that, unknown to myself, M. GuizoC 
 had, about the same time, adopted a similar view of the ef- 
 fects of the Norman Conquest, and illustrated it with the 
 philosophical spirit and extensive research for which his 
 historical works are so justly celebrated. — See Guizot, Es- 
 sais sur I'Histoire de France, p. 373-4C0. It is singular 
 how frequently, about the same period, the same ideas are 
 suggested to different writers, in situations remote from 
 each other, which never before occurred to those who have 
 treated of the subject. Tt would appear that political sea- 
 sons bring forth the same fruits in different parts of the 
 world at the same tune. 
 
 t Hume, ii., 487, 488, 492 ; iii., 4, 78, 79. 
 
33 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. I. 
 
 kingdoms, where feudal violence, private wars, 
 and incessant bloodsheds crushed the first efibrts 
 of laborious freedom ; and the middling ranks, 
 .comparatively free from oppression, gradually 
 grew in importance with the extension of their 
 numbers, and the insensible increase of national 
 opulence.* 
 
 2d. The second was the insular situation of 
 Insular the country, and its consetiuent exemp- 
 situation. (ion from the horrors of actual war- 
 fare. With tlie exception of a few incursions 
 of the Scottish monarchs into the northern coun- 
 ties, which were transient in their operations 
 and partial in their effects, England has hardly 
 ever been the seat of foreign war since the Con- 
 quest; and the southern counties, by far the 
 most important both in riches and population, 
 have not seen the fires of an enemy's camp for 
 eight hundred years. Securely cradled in the 
 waves, her industry has scarcely ever felt the 
 devastating influence of foreign conquest; her 
 arms have often carried war into foreign states, 
 but she has never suffered from its havoc in her 
 own. Periods of foreign hostility have been 
 known to her inhabitants only from the increas- 
 ed excitation of national feeling, or tlie quicken- 
 ed encouragement of domestic industry. The 
 effects of this happy exemption from the peril of 
 foreign invasion have been incalculable. It is 
 during the dangers and the exigencies of war that 
 militaiy violence acquires its fatal ascendency ; 
 that industry is blighted by the destruction of its 
 produce; labour deadened by the forfeiture of 
 its hopes ; pacific virtues extinguished by the in- 
 sults which they suffer; warlike qualities devel- 
 oped by the eminence to which they lead. In 
 every age the principles of liberty expand du- 
 ring "the protection of peace, and are withered by 
 theVhirl and the agitation of war. If this truth 
 has been experienced in our own times, when 
 military devastation is comparatively limited, 
 and industry universally diflused, what must 
 have been its importance in a barbarous age, 
 when the infant shoots of freedom were only be- 
 ginning to appear, and could expand only under 
 the shelter of baronial power 1 It is according- 
 ly observed by all our historians, that the feudal 
 institutions of England were far less military 
 than those which obtained in the continental 
 monarchies ; that private wars were compara- 
 tively unknown, and that the armies of the kings 
 were for the most part composed of levied troops, 
 whose unbroken experience soon acquired a 
 decided superiority over the feudal militia of 
 their enemies. t 
 
 3d. The third circumstance was the fortunate 
 
 limitation of the privileges of nobil- 
 
 Anglo-Saxon -^ ^ jj^g gj^g^j ^^^j^ pf- jj^^ family. 
 
 institutions, rii, ^ ^i. • • . .1, ■ il^ 
 
 That this was owing to the weight 
 
 of the commons in the constitution, which pre- 
 vented the formation of a privileged class, and 
 suffered the prerogatives of nobility to exht only 
 in that member of the family who inherited the 
 paternal estate, cannot be doubted ; but there is 
 no single circumstance which has contributed 
 more to confer its long permanence, its regular 
 improvement, and its inherent vigour on the 
 English constitution. The descendants of the 
 nobles were thus prevented from forming a caste, 
 to whom, as in the continental monarchies, 
 the exclusive right of filling certain situations 
 was limited. The younger branches of the aris- 
 tocracy, after a few generation.'^, relapsed into the 
 
 * Hume, i, 353, 369, 371 ill., 73,74. Hall., ii., 427. Lyf 
 tletou, n., 288. t Uallani, i., 479. 
 
 rank, and became identified with the interests of 
 the commons : and that pernicious separation of 
 noble and plebeian, which has been the princi- 
 pal cause of the destruction of freedom in all the 
 European stales, was from the earliest times 
 softened in this country. The nobility in the 
 actual possession of their estates were too few 
 in number to form an obnoxious body. Their 
 relations, possessing no privileges above the 
 commoners, ceased, after a few generations, 
 either to be objects of envy to their inferiors, or 
 to be identified in interest with the class from 
 which they sprung ; and thus the different ranks 
 of society were blended together, by a link de- 
 scending from the higher, and ultimately resting 
 on the lower orders.* 
 
 But this freedom, though finnly established by 
 the feudal constitutions, was limited to the class- 
 es for whose interest alone these constitutions 
 appear to have been intended. The villains or 
 slaves, who still constituted the great body of 
 the labouring population, were almost wholly 
 unprotected. Even in Magna Charta, while the 
 personal freedom of every free subject was pro- 
 vided for, the more numerous body of slaves 
 were left to the mercy of their landlords, with 
 the single stipulation that they should not be de- 
 prived of their implements of husbandry; and 
 their emancipation, far from being the work of 
 the barons, was accomplished by the efforts of 
 the clergy and the progress of humanity in a 
 subsequent age. General liberty, in our sense 
 of the word, was unknown in England till after 
 the Great Rebellion. t 
 
 In the reign of Richard II., the gradual prog- 
 ress of wealth, and the extraordina- Democratic 
 r}' excitation awakened among all spirit in the 
 ranks by the militaiy glories and lu- tim'? of H'ch- 
 crative wars of Edward III., produ- ''"' ^'■ 
 ced the first effervescence of the real democrat- 
 ical spirit. The insurrection of Wat Tyler, 
 which was contemporaneous with the efforts of 
 the Flemish burghers to emancipate their coun- 
 tiy from feudal tyranny, was a general move- 
 ment of tlie lower classes ; and, accordingly, it 
 was directed, not against the power of the crown, 
 but the exclusive privileges of the nobility. 
 
 " When Adam delved and Eve span, 
 Where was then the gentleman?' 
 
 was the maxim on which they rested ; a distich 
 pointing to a struggle of a totally difi'erent kind 
 from any yet known in modern Europe, and cor- 
 responding very nearly to the principles which, 
 four centuries after, produced the French Revo- 
 lution. But all the great changes of nature are 
 gradual in their progress : the effects of sudden 
 convulsions are as transient as the eflervescence 
 from which tliey spring. The insurrection of 
 the peasants in England met with the same fate 
 as the struggle of the Flemish democracy at 
 Resebecque : the feudal array of the barons easi- 
 ly dispersed a rabble imperfectly armed and 
 wholly undisciplined. Their victory was fortu- 
 nate for the progress of real liberty: the triumph 
 of the peasants must have been short-lived, and 
 would have anticipated the horrors of a negro 
 revolt. Ignorant, disunited rnen, drawn from 
 humble emplo}Tnents, can never long remain at 
 the head of affairs. After the fervour of the mo- 
 ment is over, they necessarily fall under the do- 
 minion, if not of their former masters, at least 
 
 * Hallam, i., 473. 
 
 t Hume, lii., 391, 305. Hall., i., 447. Hume, ii., 83. 
 T viler, ii., 260. 
 
Chap. I.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 39 
 
 of tyrants of their own creating, and their ulti- 
 mate condition is worse than tlic first. Centu- 
 ries of peace and increasinij wealth — the un- 
 ceasing operation of a beneticcnt religion — the 
 influence of printing and diffused knowledge — a 
 more general distribution of property — a change 
 in the implements of human destruction, were 
 all required before a part even of the levelling 
 principles then diffused among the English poas- 
 antiy could be safely carried into practice.* 
 The power of the feudal aristocracy received 
 a final blow from the wars of York 
 R^ses °^ ''"' ^"'1 Lancaster. Those bloody dis- 
 sensions destroyed the fabric of 
 Gothic power: they watered the English plains 
 with blood, but it was blood from which has 
 arisen a har\'est of glory. From causes which 
 it is ditficult now to trace, they early assumed a 
 character of extraordinary ferocity. Prisoners 
 of the highest rank, even on both sides, were, 
 from the very commencement, massacred in cold 
 blood: and at length the exasperation of the two 
 parties became so excessive, that quarter was 
 refused by common consent on the field of battle, 
 and thirty-six thousand Britons fell by mutual 
 slaughter in a single engagement. The chasm 
 occasioned by these losses was soon repaired by 
 the lower orders, but to the feudal nobility they 
 proved completely fatal. Eighty princes of the 
 blood, and almost the w^hole ancient barons, per- 
 ished in these disastrous wars ; and upon the 
 termination of hostilities, the House of Peers 
 could only muster forty members. The influence 
 of those M'lio remained was immense!}' weak- 
 ened. In the different Ibrfeitures which had 
 been inflicted with so unsparing a hand by the 
 factions who alternately prevailed, the estates 
 of almost all the nobility in the kingdom had 
 been included; and the feudal tenants, accus- 
 tomed to a rapid change of masters in the gen- 
 eral confusion, lost great part of their ancient 
 veneration for their superiors. The nobles be- 
 came divided among each other; the remnants 
 of the Norman conquerors viewed with undis- 
 guised jealousy the upstart families who had 
 risen in the midst of the public distress; and 
 Ihcy regarded with equal horror the remnant of 
 ferocious barons, ever ready to exterminate them 
 to regain their properties. Weakened in num- 
 bers, disunited among each other, and severed 
 from the affections of the people, the ancient no- 
 bility of England were never again formidable 
 to the liberties of their country.t 
 
 The ultimate effects of this destruction of the 
 Decline of feudal aristocracy were eminently fa- 
 feudal lib- vourable to public freedom ; but its 
 "^y- immediate consequence was a great 
 
 and most perilous augmentation of the power 
 of the crown. The ancient barrier was swept 
 away, and the new one was not yet erected. By 
 the forfeitures which accrued to the victorious 
 monarch, a fifth of the whole land of the king- 
 dom was annexed to the crown ; and, notwith- 
 standing the liberal grants to the nobles of his 
 party, the hereditary revenue which Ed^vai■d left 
 to his successors was very great. The influ- 
 ence of the nobles being in abeyance, and the 
 people having neither acquired nor become capa- 
 ble of exerting any share of power but through 
 the medium of their superiors, nothing remained 
 to resist the ix)wer of the sovereign. The inev- 
 itable consequence w-as the destruction of the 
 
 * Barante, i., 74. Pref., Hume, iii., 10, 11. 
 
 t Itallam, in., 294, 295. Hume, in., 203, 212, 215, 237. 
 
 freedom which had been won by the struggles 
 of the barons ; and hence the tyraimy of the Tu- 
 dor princes. Nothing, accordingly," is more re- 
 markable than the pliant servility of Parlia- 
 ment and the slavish submission of the people 
 during the reigns of the successors of Henry 
 VII. Civil war appears to have worn out their 
 energies and extinguished their ancient passion 
 for freedom; the Houses of Peers and Com- 
 mons vied with each other in acts of adulation 
 to the reigning monarch; it seemed as if the 
 barons of Runnymede had been succeeded by 
 the senate of Tiberius. Even the commons ap- 
 pear to have totally lost their former spirit ; the 
 most arbitrary taxation, the most repeated vio- 
 lations of their liberties, produced no popular 
 convulsion; mandates issued from court were 
 universally obeyed in the election of members 
 of Parliament ; and the most violent changes of 
 which history makes mention, the destniction 
 of the national religion, the seizure of one third 
 of the national property, the execution of seven- 
 ty-two thousand persons in a single reign, pro- 
 duced no commotions among the people.* 
 
 This was the critical period of English liber- 
 ty : the country had reached that crisis Revived by 
 which in all the great continental mon- spirit of 
 archies has proved fatal to public free- religious 
 dom. Notwithstanding her insular freedom, 
 situation; notwithstanding the independent spir- 
 it of her Saxon ancestry ; notwithstanding the 
 eflbrts of her feudal nobility, the liberty of Eng- 
 land was all but extinct, when the enthusiasm 
 of the Reformation fanned the dying spark, 
 and kept alive, in a sect which soon became 
 predominant, the declining flame of liberty. 
 The Puritans were early distinguished by their 
 zeal in the cause of freedom ; during the impe- 
 rious reign of Elizabeth they maintained in si- 
 lence their inflexible spirit; and so well was her 
 government aware of the dangerous tendency of 
 their principles, that they never were permitted, 
 during the reign of that sagacious princess, to 
 have the smallest share in state affairs. In the 
 reign of James I. their number became greater, 
 and their exertions in the cause of freedom more 
 apparent ; the first serious attacks on govern- 
 ment were made through the pulpit ; and the 
 only persons in this, as in other countries at the 
 same period, who made any exertions in favour 
 of their liberties, were those who were anima- 
 ted with religious zeal. During the reign of 
 Charles I. a universal phrensy seized the na- 
 tion ; an enthusiasm almost as general, and far 
 more lasting than that of the crusades, pervaded 
 the middling and a large proportion of the high- 
 er ranks ; and, but for the strength of that feel- 
 ing, the Long Parliament would never have 
 been able to withstand the exertions which, 
 with their characteristic loyalty, the English 
 gentlemen at that period made in defence of 
 their sovereign. From whatever cause, says 
 Cromwell, the civil war began, if religion was 
 not the original source of discord, yet God soon 
 brought it to that issue ; and he constantly af- 
 firmed that, amid the strife of battle and the 
 dangers of war, the reward to which he and his 
 followers looked was freedom of conscience. It 
 is of little moment Avhether the future protector 
 and his military chieftains were or were not 
 sincere in these professions ; it is suflicient that 
 such was the temper of the times — that by no 
 other means could they rouse the energies of the 
 
 Hume, iv., 244, 275, 358, 399. Hallam, lii., 298. 
 
40 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. I. 
 
 great body of the people. The effects of this 
 spirit were not confined to this island or the pe- 
 riod ill which it arose ; they extended to another 
 hemisphere and a distant a^e ;* and froni tiie 
 emigrants whom reli'^ious oppression drove to 
 the forests of America, have sprung those pow- 
 erful states, who have tried, amid transatlantic 
 plenty, the doubtful exi)eriment of democratic 
 freedom. 
 
 But while the current of popular feeling was 
 thus violent in favour of republican principles, 
 the effect of ancient and fondly-cherished nation- 
 al institutions strongly appeared, and the Eng- 
 lish reaped the benefit of the long struggle main- 
 tained through the feudal ages by their ancestors 
 in the cause of freedom. Though the substance 
 of liberty had fled during the arbitrary reigns 
 of the Tudor princes, her shadow still remained; 
 the popular attachment to ancient rights was 
 still undecayed ; the venerable forms of the con- 
 stitution were yet unchanged, and on that foun- 
 dation the new and broader liberties of the 
 country were reared. But for this happy cir- 
 cumstance, the spirit of freedom which the Ref- 
 ormation awakened might have wasted itself, 
 as in Scotland, in visionary and impracticable 
 schemes, until the nation, worn out with specu- 
 lations from which no real benefit could ac- 
 crue, willingly returned to its pristine servitude. 
 Whereas, by the course of events which had 
 preceded it, the stream of liberty naturally re- 
 turned, wlien strengthened, into its wonted 
 though now almost neglected channels, and, 
 "without breaking its former bounds, or over- 
 whelming the ancient landmarks, extended its 
 fertilizing influence over a wider surface. 
 
 "It is remarkable," says Turgot, "that while 
 Regarxl to Engla-i^^ '^ the country in the world 
 ancient where public freedom has longest sub- 
 nghts in sisted, and political institutions are 
 England, most the subject of discussion, it is 
 at the same time the one in which innovations 
 are with most difficulty introduced, and where 
 the most obstinate resistance is made to un- 
 doubted improvements. You might alter the 
 whole political frame of government in Prance 
 with more facility than you could introduce the 
 most insignificant change into the customs or 
 fashions of England."t The principle here al- 
 luded to is at once the consequence and the re- 
 ward of free institutions. Universally it will 
 be found that the attachment of men to the cus- 
 toms and usages of their forefathers is greatest 
 where they have had the largest share in the 
 establishment or enjoyment of them ; and that 
 the danger of innovation is most to be feared 
 where the exercise of rights has been unknown 
 to the people. The dynasties of the East are 
 of ephemeral duration, but the customs of the 
 Swiss democracies seem as immovable as the 
 mountains in which they were cradled.; The 
 
 * Hume, v., 455, 183 ; vi., 48, 100, 117, 387, 345. Ling., 
 li., 360. t Turgot, ii., 32. 
 
 i The French Directory, in the aniour of their innova- 
 tions, proposed to the peasants of Uri and Iliitervvalden a 
 change in their constitution, and made the offer of fraterni- 
 zation, which had seduced the alle2;iance of so many other 
 states. But these sturdy mountaineers replied, " Words 
 cannot express, citizen directors, the profound grief which 
 the proposal to accede to the new Helvetic league has occa- 
 sioned in these valleys. Other people m:iy have different 
 inclinations : but we, the descendants of William Tell, who 
 have preserved, without the slightest alteration, the consti- 
 tution which he has left us, have but one unanimous wish, 
 that of living under the government which Providence and 
 the coura.ge of our ancestors have left us." — Laceetelle, 
 Rev. Frartf., iii., 162. 
 
 same principles have, in every age, formed the 
 distinguishing characteristic of the English peo- 
 ple. During the severities and oppression of 
 the Norman rule, it was to the equal laws of 
 the Saxon reigns that lliey looked back with a 
 fond ali'ection, which neither the uncertainty of 
 oral tradition nor the intensity of present suf- 
 fering had been able to destroy. When the bar- 
 ons assembled in open rebellion at Runnymede, 
 it was not any imaginary system of goveiTiment 
 which they established, but the old and consue- 
 tudinary laws of Edward the Confessor, which 
 they moulded into a new form, and established 
 on a firmer basis in the great Charter ; temper- 
 ing even in a moment of revolutionary triumph 
 the ardour of liberty and the pride of descent by 
 their hereditary attachment to old institutions. 
 The memorable reply of the barons to the 
 proposal of the prelates at Mertoun, Nolumus 
 leges Anglice vmtare, has passed into a consuetu- 
 dinary rule, to which the preservation of the 
 constitution through all the convulsions of later 
 times is mainly to be ascribed. In the petition 
 of right drawn by Selden, and the greatest law- 
 yers of his day, the Parliament said to the king, 
 "Your subjects have inherited this freedom;" 
 and in the preamble of the Declaration of 
 Rights, the states do not pretend any right to 
 frame a government for themselves, but strive 
 only to secure the religion, laws, and liberties 
 long possessed and lately endangered ; and their 
 prayer is only '■ That it may be declared and 
 enacted, that all and singular the rights and 
 liberties asserted and declared, are the true an- 
 cient and indubitable rights and liberties of the 
 people of this kingdom."* " By adhering in this 
 manner," says Burke, " to our forefathers, we 
 are guided, not by the superstition of antiqua- 
 rians, but the spirit of philosophic analogy. In 
 this choice of inheritance we have given to our 
 frame of policy the image of a relation in blood, 
 binding up the constitution of our country' with 
 our dearest domestic ties, adopting our funda- 
 mental laws into the bosom of our family affec- 
 tions ; keeping inseparable, and cherishing with 
 the warmth of all their combined and mutually 
 reflected charities, our state, our hearths, our 
 sepulchres, and our altars. "t 
 
 These principles have not been abandoned by 
 the descendants of England in their 
 transatlantic possessions. When the Amedca.'" 
 Americans threw off the yoke of Brit- 
 ain, they retained its laws, its religion, its insti- 
 tutions ; no massacres or proscriptions, no con- 
 fiscations or exiles disgraced the rise of their 
 liberty ; no oblivion of the past was made the 
 foundation of their hopes for the future. The 
 English Church is still the prevailing religion 
 of the land; the English decisions still regulate 
 their courts of justice; and English institutions 
 form the basis on which their national prosperity 
 has been reared. Amid the exasperation of a 
 civil war, they have never deviated from the 
 usages of civilized life. Alone of all foreigners, 
 an Englishman still feels at home Avhcn he 
 crosses the Atlajitic; and the first efforts of 
 American eloquence have been exerted in paint- 
 ing the feelings of an ingenuous inhabitant of 
 that countiy when he fii'st visited the land of his 
 fathers.; 
 
 As the best proof that the Revolution of Eng- 
 land owed its distinctive character to the circum- 
 
 * Wm. and Mary, c. 1. 
 
 t Planta's Switzerland, ii., 137. Hume, ii., 89, 141, 223. 
 Burke, vi., 76, 80. % Sketch-Book, i., 19. 
 
Chap. I.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 41 
 
 Savacc ciril stanccs which preceded it, and to the 
 wars in Ire- large share enjoyed by previous gen- 
 land, erations in the government of the 
 eountr)', it is .sulHcient to refer to what took place 
 at the .same period in the .sister kingdoms. Ire- 
 land, conquered by Henry II., was retained for 
 four'centuries in a state of feudal subjection to 
 Britain ; none of the privileges of linglish sub- 
 jects had lx;en communicated to her inhabitants; 
 they had neither tasted of the severity of Saxon 
 conquest, nor the blessings of Saxon Ireedom. 
 Feudal aristocracy, in its worst form, accompa- 
 nied by national exasperation, and an absent no- 
 bility, there prevailed; and what was the conse- 
 quence 1 Instead of the moderate reforms, the 
 humane conquests, and the security to property, 
 which distinguished the English Rebellion, there 
 appeared the most terrible horrors of popular li- 
 centiousness, and the last .severities of military^ 
 execution, general massacre, the burning of 
 families, ton-ents of blood, both in the field and 
 on tiie scafiold, the stonning of cities, and the 
 desolation of provinces. Cromwell seriously 
 endeavoured to extirpate the native Irish Catho- 
 lics, though thev were eight times as numerous 
 as the Protestants; forty thousand men were 
 sent as soldiers to foreign states, and their wives 
 and children hurried otf to the plantations; the 
 most severe and arbitrary laws enforced against 
 these who remained in the country ; the estates 
 of all who had borne arms againt the Parliament 
 ■were forfeited, and one third cut off of all those 
 proprietors who had not served in the jiopular 
 ranks ; a large portion of the people were moved 
 from one part of the country to another, and any 
 transplanted Irishman found out of his district 
 might be put to death by the first jjerson who 
 met him. Such wa.s the effect of these meas- 
 ures that nearly one lialf of the whole land in the 
 country, amounting to above seven millions of 
 acres, "was forfeited, and bestowed on the revo- 
 lutionar)^ soldiers ; and even after the Restora- 
 tion of Charles, two thirds of these immense pos- 
 sessions were left in the hands of the recent 
 acquirers, and though the remainder was nomi- 
 nally restored to the Catholics, none of it re- 
 turned to the dispossessed proprietors.* 
 
 In Scotland, also, at the same period, the 
 
 straggle for freedom was marked by 
 And Scot- jjjj jj^g horrors of popular licentious- 
 
 ness. In that remote state, neither the 
 Saxon institutions nor the principles of freedom 
 had obtained any solid footing; and, in conse- 
 quence, the nobles and peasantry-, without either 
 the inten-ention of a middling rank or the mod- 
 erating influence of previous privileges, were 
 brought into fierce collision at the Reformation. 
 As might have been expected, the proceedings 
 of the Revolutionists were from the very first 
 characterized by the utmost violence and injus- 
 tice; the wholepropertyof the Church, amount- 
 ing to about a third of the kingdom, was confis- 
 cated, and bestowed on the barons of the popular 
 party ; blood flowed in torrents on the scaffold ; 
 quarter was almost invariably refused in the 
 field; and the proceedings of the adverse parties 
 resembled ratlier the sanguinary vengeance of 
 savages than the conduct of men contending for 
 important civil privileges. The mild and hu- 
 mane conduct of the Civil War in England 
 forms the most striking contrast to the cruelty 
 of the Royalists or the severity of the Covenant- 
 
 ers in Scotland. The horrors of the La Vendee 
 insurrection were anticipated in the massacres 
 of Montrose's followers ; and the Noi/atlcs of the 
 Loire are not without a parallel in the atrocious 
 revenge of the popular faction.* 
 
 Nor was it any peculiarity in the national 
 character which stamped its singular and hon- 
 ourable features on the English Rebellion. The 
 civil wars of York and Lancaster, not a century 
 and a half before, had been distinguished by a 
 degree of ferocious cruelty to which a parallel is 
 hardly to be found even in the terrific annals of 
 the French Revolution; prisoners of every rank 
 were uniformly massacred in cold blood after the 
 action was over ; a leader of one of the faction.s 
 did not scruple to murder, with his own hands, 
 the youthful prince whom fortune had placed in 
 his power; and the savage order to give no 
 quarter, which the French revolutionary govern- 
 ment issued to their annies, but the humanity of 
 its commanders refused to execute, were deliber- 
 ately acted upon, for a course of years, by bodies 
 of Englishmen upon each other.t 
 
 The humane and temperate spirit of the Eng- 
 lish Rebellion must therefore be as- causes of tlm 
 cribed to the circumstances in which humanity of 
 the contest began in that country, the Great Re- 
 the rights previously acquired, the ^'<^l'"^"- 
 privileges long exercised, the attachments de- 
 scending from a remote age, the moderation; 
 flowing from the possession of freedom. It was 
 disgraced by no violent innovations, because it 
 arose among a people attached by long habit to 
 old institutions. It was followed by no pro- 
 scriptions, because it was headed by the greater 
 part of the intelligence of the state, and not aban- 
 doned to the passions of the populace. It was 
 distinguished by singular moderation in the use 
 of power, because it was conducted by men to 
 whom its exercise had long been halDitual; it 
 was attended by little confiscation of property, 
 because among its ranks were to be found a 
 large portion of the wealth of the kingdom. The 
 remarkable moderation of public opinion which 
 has ever since distinguished this country from 
 the neighbouring states, and attracted equal at- 
 tention among foreigners! as ourselves,? has 
 arisen from the continued operation of the same 
 circumstances. 
 
 The importance of these circumstances will 
 best be appreciated, and their application to the 
 French Revolution understood, by reviewing the 
 past history of that country. 
 
 Like the other provinces of the Roman Em- 
 pire, Gaul, upon the irruption of the 
 barbarous nations, was sunk in 
 lowest stage of effeminacy and degra- 
 dation. So early as the time of Tacitus, the de- 
 cay in the military courage of the people had 
 become conspicuous ; and before the fall of the 
 Empire, it was found to be impossible to recrait 
 the legions among its enervated inhabitants- 
 Slavery, like a cancer, had consumed the vitals 
 of the state; patrician wealth had absorbed ple- 
 beian industry; the race of independent freemen 
 had disappeared, and in their room had .sprung 
 up a swann of ignoble dependants upon absent 
 proprietors. These miserable inhabitants were 
 
 ,v Early state 
 ""^ of the Gauls. 
 
 * Linpard. tI., 136 ; 
 Scotland.in., 218, 219. 
 
 Vol. I.— F 
 
 xii., 74. Hume, i., 379. Laing's 
 
 * Chambers's Revolutions, 1642, ii., p. 137. Laiug, iu., 
 329, 330, 355, 448. 
 
 t Lac, Pr. Hist., ii., 58. Hume, iii., 203, 210. Laing, 
 iii., 355. 
 
 i Lac, Hist, de France, viii., 39. 
 
 () Robertson's Scotland, iii., 182. Burke, vi., 80. 
 
42 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. I. 
 
 oppressed to the greatest degree by the Roman 
 governors ; they were rigidly excluded from ev- 
 ery office of trust, civil or military. The whole 
 freemen in the province only amounted to five 
 hundred thousand men; and the capitation-tax, 
 in the time of Constantine, is said to have 
 amounted to the enormous sum of nine pounds 
 sterling for each free citizen. Under this iron 
 despotism, population in the provinces rapidly 
 declined ; the slaves went off with eveiy inva- 
 der, and swelled the ranks of the northern con- 
 querors ; and while the numbers of the people 
 steadily increased among the free inhabitants of 
 the Gennan forests, the human race was fast dis- 
 appearing in the opulent provinces of the Roman 
 Empire.* 
 
 INational character, as might easily have been 
 anticipated, rapidly declined vmder the combi- 
 ned influence of these degrading circumstances. 
 The inhabitants of Gaul were con.sidered by the 
 northern nations, in the sixth century, as uniting 
 all the vices of human nature — the cruelty of 
 barbarism with the cowardice of opulence — the 
 cringing of slaves with the arrogance of tyrants 
 •^the falsehood of civilized v/ith the brutality of 
 savage life. They could apply no stronger epi- 
 thet of contumely on an enemy than to call him 
 a Roman.t 
 
 When the barbarians, at the close of the fourth 
 Conquest by centur>', broke in on all sides upon 
 the Franks.' the Western Empire, they found the 
 whole land in the hands of a few great families, 
 who cultivated their ample possessions by means 
 of slaves. The province of Gaul was no excep- 
 tion to this deplorable state, the natural and mis- 
 erable termination of corrapted opulence. Their 
 barbarian conquerors, however, did not at once 
 seize the whole of the vanquished lands : The 
 Burgundians and Visigoths took two thirds of 
 their respective conquests ; and although the pro- 
 portion seized by the Franks is not distinctly 
 mentioned, it is evident that they occupied the 
 largest portion of the lands of Gaul. The lands 
 left in the hands of the Roman proprietors were 
 termed allodiai, which, for a considerable time, 
 "were distinguishable from the military estates 
 by which they were surrounded ; but the de- 
 pressed condition of the ancient inhabitants is 
 abundantly proved by the fact that the fine for 
 the death of a common Frank was fixed at 200 
 solidi, and that of a Roman proprietor at 100. 
 By degrees, the distinction between barbarian 
 and Roman became still more marked ; the allo- 
 dial properties were gradually either seized by 
 the military chieftains in their neighbourhood, or 
 ranked, for the sake of security, under their pro- 
 tection ; the feeble descendants of the con-upted 
 empire yielded to the energetic efibrts of barba- 
 rian independence, and by the eleventh centur\' 
 the revolution in the landed propert)' was com- 
 plete, except in the southern provinces, and the 
 name of Gaul merged in that of France.: 
 
 The military' followers of Clovis, like all the 
 Independent Other Gemran tribes, were strongly 
 spirit of the attached to the principles of freedom. 
 Franks. They respected his military talents, 
 and willingly followed his victorious .standard ; 
 but they considered themselves as his equals 
 
 * Tac., Vit. Agric, c. ii. Gib., i., 82, 83 ; iii.. 65, 66. 
 Turner, i., 183, Anglo-Saxons. Sism., i., 69, 74, 77, 84, 89, 
 108. 
 
 i Luitpranc!, ii., 481. Gibbon, ix., 143. 
 
 t IlalUm, i., 144, 147, 149. 168. Leges SalicE, c. 58. 
 Sism., France, i., 82, 83. Gib., v., 263. Guizot, Hist, de 
 France, 74, 100. 
 
 rather than his subjects, and were not afraid to 
 dare his resentment when the period of rnilitarj' 
 command was over. When the spoil v,'as divi- 
 ded at Soissons, Clovis begged that a particular 
 vase might be set aside for his use. The army 
 having expressed their acquiescence, a single 
 soldier exclaimed, " You shall have nothing here 
 but what falls to your share by lot," and struck 
 the precious vessel with his battle-axe. The 
 conquest of Gaul spread these independent war- 
 riors, who did not exceed many thousands in 
 number, over the ample provinces of that exten- 
 sive countiy ; and their annual assemblies in 
 spring gave rise to the celebrated Champs dcMai, 
 long revered as the rudiments of French liberty. 
 But the difficulty of assembling a body so widely 
 dispersed was soon severely felt ; the new pro- 
 prietors early became occupied by the interests 
 of their separate estates, and disliked the burden- 
 some attendance in the convocations ; the mon- 
 archs ceased to summon their unwilling follow- 
 ers ; and the successors of Clovis gradually freed 
 themselves from all dependance on the ancient 
 founders of their monarchy.* 
 
 The power of the monarch, however, in bar- 
 barous ages, can be rendered paramount Rois Fai- 
 only by the possession of great militar}' nuans. 
 qualities: the ease and luxurj- of a court rapidly 
 extinguish the vigour which is requisite for its 
 maintenance. The mayors of the palace soon 
 usurped the royal authority ; and a succession of 
 monarchs, distinguished by the emphatic name 
 of Rois Faineans, rendered the sovereign con- 
 temptible even in the eyes of a degenerate peo- 
 ple. The victories of Charles M artel, the ge- 
 nius of Charlemagne, for a time averted the deg- 
 radation of the throne; hut with their exertions 
 the royal authority declined;* the great proprie- 
 tors ever}'where usurped the prerogatives of the 
 crown, and France was divided into a number 
 of separate principalities, each in a great meas- 
 ure independent of its neighbour, and waging 
 war and administering justice of its own au- 
 thority. 
 
 Nothing is more remarkable than the rapid and 
 early degeneracy of barbarous states, p 
 No sooner are they settled on the van- of'the'' ""^ 
 quished lands, than they adopt the empire of 
 vices and sink into the effeminacy of Charle- 
 their subjects ; the energy- of the bar- ""^o"^- 
 barian character is lost with the nece.ssity which 
 created it ; and the descendants of the conquer- 
 ors cannot, in a few generations, be distinguished 
 from those of the vanquished people. This 
 truth was signally exemplified in the early his- 
 tory of the French monarchy. Even during the 
 reign of Charlemagne, the inherent weakness of 
 a barbarous age was perceptible: all the splen- 
 dour of his talents, all the experience of his ar- 
 mies, could only throw a temporar}' lustre over 
 his empire ; the efibrts of a lew thousand free- 
 men were lost amid the degradation of many 
 millions of slaves ; and the conqueror of the 
 Western World had the mortification, before his 
 death, of perceiving the rapid progress of the de- 
 cay which was soon destined to prostrate his 
 empire. It is public freedom and general intel- 
 ligence alone v.'hich can enable the human race 
 to withstand the influence of too rapid prosper- 
 ity; which can long continue, in ages of civili- 
 zation, the energy and courage of barbarous 
 times ; and by providing for the incessant eleva- 
 
 * Du Bos, Hist. Critiq., li., 301. Ilallnm, i., 153, 155. 
 t Ilallam, i., 31, 156. 
 
Chap. I.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 43 
 
 tion of those cla.s.ses who have been bred under 
 the discipline of adversity, furnish a more dura- 
 ble antidote to the growing depravity of prosper- 
 ous times.* 
 
 The weakness of the Empire at once appeared 
 Its dissolu- upon the death of the victorious mon- 
 tion. arch. Instantly, as if by enchantment, 
 
 the fabric fell to pieces ; separated into detached 
 dominions, all means of mutual support were 
 lost, and pusillanimous millions yielded almost 
 without a struggle to the ravages of contempti- 
 ble enemies. The Normans, the Huns, the Sar- 
 acens, pressed the diii'erent frontiers; a swarm 
 of savage barbarians overspread the plains of 
 Germany, and threatened the total extirpation of 
 the inhabitants; the Northmen ascended ever}' 
 Havigable stream, and from their shallow boats 
 spread flames and devastation through the inte- 
 rior of France. Rich and poor were alike inca- 
 pable of exerting themselves to avert the com- 
 mon calamity ; villages were burned, captives 
 carried ofl", castles destroyed in every province, 
 without the slightest efibrt at resistance; and 
 while the unconquered tribes of Germany boldly 
 united, under Otho, to drive back the terrible 
 scourge of the Hungarian horse, the degenerate 
 inhabitants of the Roman provinces were una- 
 ble to repel the detached inroads of the Norman 
 pirates. t 
 
 The first circumstance which restored the 
 Pnvate militaiy courage of the inhabitants of 
 wars of France atl:er the decline of the dynasty 
 the nobles, of Charlemagne, was the private wars 
 of the nobles, and the universal fortification of 
 the castles, arising from the weakness of the 
 throne. It is thus that the greatest human evils 
 correct themselves, and that the excess of misery 
 ultimately occasions its alleviation. Deprived 
 of anything like support from the government, 
 and driven to their own resources for protection, 
 the landed proprietors were compelled to arm 
 iheir followers and strengthen their castles, now 
 become their only refuge. Military skill was 
 restored with the use of arms ; courage revived 
 from confidence in its defences ; a race of men 
 arose, inured to war from their infancy, and 
 strong in the consciousness of superior prowess. 
 In the interior of the castles, arms were the only 
 employment, and the recoimting of military ex- 
 ploits the sole amusement of the age ; the words 
 dvivalry and courtesy still attest the virtues which 
 were learned by the mounted knights, and which 
 were considered peculiar to those who had been 
 bred up ill the foj(?-fs of the barons. The wretched- 
 ness and suffering of those ages have produced 
 the most dignified features of modern manners. 
 From the degraded followers of the Carlovingian 
 kings have sprung the heroic nobility of France ; 
 from centuries of war and rapine, the generous 
 courage of modern warfare ; from the dissolution 
 of regal authority, the pride and independence 
 of feudal nobility.t 
 
 But it was only the nobles or landed proprie- 
 tors who were renovated by these intestine divis- 
 ions; the serfs who cultivated the ground, the 
 burgesses who frequented the towns, were re- 
 tained in the most degraded and abject state ; 
 the Franks lived in their castles, surrounded bv 
 their armed followers, in solitary independence'; 
 the Gauls, unarmed and unprotected, toiled in 
 the fields, alike exposed to rapine and incapable 
 of resistance. The jealousy of their superiors 
 
 * Sism., France, i., 400, 401 ; ii., 279. Condt-. ii., 125. 
 t Hal'.am, i., 25. Sism., iii., 96, 97, 123, 168, 170, 255, 276. 
 % Sism., iii., 375, 451. 
 
 denied them the use of arms; the fatal supe- 
 riority of the knights in actual warfare ren- 
 dered revolt hopeless : frequently, during the 
 eleventh century, the miseries of the peasantry 
 drove them to extremities, and led to bloody con- 
 tests with the nobles ; but in no one instance 
 were they successful, and they returned to their 
 ploughs depressed by suffering or disheailened 
 by defeat.* 
 
 The first ray which broke in upon the gloom 
 of the Middle Ages, on the Continent Rise of the 
 of Europe, came from the boroughs : boroughs. 
 " an execrable institution," say the old histori- 
 ans, " by which slaves are encouraged to become 
 free, and forget the allegiance they owe to their 
 masters." The first coiporation in France arose 
 about half a century after the English Conquest, 
 and they were brought into general use by Louis 
 the Fat, to serve as a counterpoise to the power 
 of the nobles. Rouen and Falain, the first incor- 
 porated boroughs of Nonnandy, enjoyed their 
 privileges by a grant from Philip Augustus, 
 about the year 1'267. Prior to that time the 
 states of the duchy were composed entirely of 
 nobles and clergy. The kings, however, early 
 .sensible of the importance of these communities 
 as a bulwark against the encroachments of the 
 nobles, procured a law, by which, if a slave es- 
 caped from his master, and bought a house in a 
 borough, and lived there a year without being 
 reclaimed, he gained his Irecdom — a custom 
 which seems to have prevailed equally in France, 
 Scotland, and England. From this cause, join- 
 ed to the natural influence of mutual protection 
 and extended intercourse, boroughs everywhere 
 became the cradles of freedom ; although the no- 
 bles still looked upon them with such contempt 
 that, by the feudal law, the superior was debarred 
 from marrying his female ward to a burgess or 
 villaiii,. But, notwithstanding their growing im- 
 portance, the boroughs were incapable of offer- 
 ing any efiectual resistance, for many ages, to 
 the power of the nobles, from their want of skill 
 in the use of arms, to which their superiors were 
 habituated : a distinction of incalculable impor- 
 tance in an age where violence was universal, 
 and nothing but the military- profession held in 
 any esleem.t 
 
 The two circumstances which had mainly fos- 
 tered the spirit of freedom in England Great feu- 
 were the extraordinary power of the datories. 
 sovereign and the independent spirit of the com- 
 moners, both the immediate consequences of the 
 Norman Conquest. In France, the reverse of 
 both these peculiarities took place; the dignity 
 of the throne was lost in the ascendency of the no- 
 bles, and the spirit of the people extinguished by 
 the grasp of feudal power. For a series of ages 
 the monarchy of France was held together by 
 the feeblest tenure : the Dukes of Normandy, the 
 Counts of Toulouse, the Dukes of Burgundy, 
 and the Dukes of Bretagne, resembled rather in- 
 dependent sovereigns than fettdal vassals, and 
 the real dominion of the throne, before the time 
 of Louis XI., seldom extended beyond the vicin- 
 ity of the capital. In moments of danger, when 
 the great vassals assembled their retainers, the 
 King of France could still muster a mighty host; 
 but with the transitory alarm the forces of the 
 monarchy melted away; the military vassals re- 
 tired after the period of their service was expired, 
 
 * Thierry, J., 161, 1G9, 170. 
 
 t Hume, ii.. 111. 112. IloUingshed, iii., 15. Ducan^e, 
 voce Commune. Houard, Loix des Fran?ais, i., 238. Tyt- 
 ler, ii., 301. M'Pherson, i., 367. 
 
44 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. f. 
 
 and the leader of a hundred thousand men was 
 frequently batfled, after a campaign of a few 
 weeks, by the garrison of an insignificant for- 
 tress.* 
 
 But the circumstance of all others the most 
 Want of prejudicial to the liberty of France, 
 feomaury. was the exclusive use of arms by the 
 higher orders, and the total absence of that mid- 
 dling class in the amiies, who constituted not 
 kss the strength of the English forces than the 
 support of the English monarchy. Before the 
 time of Charles VI., the jealousy of the nobles 
 had never allowed the peasants to be instructed 
 in the use of arras, in consequence of which they 
 had no archers or disciplined infantry to oppose 
 to their enemies, and were obliged to seek in the 
 mountains of Genoa for crossbowmen to with- 
 stand the terrible yeomanry of England. The 
 defeats of Cressy "and Poictiers, of Morat and 
 Granson, were the consequence of this inferiori- 
 ty ; not that the natives of France were inferior 
 in natural bravery to the English or the Swiss, 
 but that their armies, being composed entirely of 
 military tenants, had no force to oppose to the 
 steady and experienced infantiy, which in every 
 age has formed the peculiar strength of a free 
 people. Warned by these disasters, the French 
 government, by an ordinance in 1394, ordered 
 the peasantry throughout the whole country to 
 be instructed in the use of the bow, and the per- 
 nicious practice of games of hazard to be ex- 
 changed for matches at archery. They made 
 rapid progress in the new exercises, and would 
 soon have rivalled the English bowmen ; but the 
 jealousy of the nobles took alarm at the in- 
 creasing energy of the lower orders. Martial 
 exercises were prohibited, games of hazard re- 
 established, the people lost their courage from 
 want of confidence in themselves, and the defeat 
 of Azincour was the consequence.t 
 
 The circumstances which first awakened the 
 Misery ansing genuine democratic spirit in France, 
 from the Eug"- were the miser}' and anarchy ari- 
 l«liwars. sing from the English wars. During 
 these disastrous contests, in which the French 
 armies were so frequently worsted, and military 
 license, with all its horrors, for above a century 
 wasted the heart of the comitry, the power of the 
 nobles was for a time destroyed, and the extrem- 
 ities of distress roused the courage of the peas- 
 antry. Abandoned by their natural protectors, 
 pillaged by bands of licentious soldiers, driven 
 to desperation by suffering, and excited by the 
 prospect of general plunder, the populace every- 
 where flew to arms, and the insurrection of the 
 Jacquerie anticipated the horrors of the French 
 Revolution. The effect of the despotic govern- 
 ment of preceding ages became then conspicu- 
 ous : Unlike the moderate reforms of the English 
 barons, who themselves contended for freedom, 
 the French peasantry fell at once into the horrors 
 of popular licentiousness. The features, the 
 well-known features of servile war, appeared; 
 the gentry, hated for their tj"ranny, were every- 
 where exposed to the violence of popular rage ; 
 and instead of meeting with the regard due to 
 their past dignity, became, on that account, only 
 the object of more wanton insult to the peasant- 
 ry. They were hunted like wild beasts, and put 
 to the sword without mercy; their castles con- 
 sumed by fire ; their wives and daughters rav- 
 ished or murdered ; and the savages proceeded 
 
 * Sism., vii., 112. Bar., Introd.,42. 
 t Sism., xii., 51. Bar., i., 79 ; li., 217. 
 
 so far as to impale their enemies, and roast them 
 alive over a slow fire. But these efforts were as 
 impotent as they were ferocious. The nobles 
 combined for their common defence ; the peas- 
 antry, unacquainted with arms and destitute of 
 discipline, could not withstand the shock of the 
 feudal cavalry ; and the licentiousness of the peo- 
 ple was repressed, after one half of the popula- 
 tion of France had fallen a prey to the sword, or 
 the pestilence which followed the wars of Ed- 
 ward the Third.* 
 
 The misery occasioned by these contests, how- 
 ever, excited a spirit which long sur- Effects of the 
 vived the disasters in which it ori- suffenng of 
 ginated. Nations, like individu- '^e EngUsh 
 als, are frequently improved in the "*'^'' 
 school of adversity ; and if the causes of the 
 greatest advances in our social condition are ac- 
 curately investigated, they may often be traced 
 back to those long periods of difficulty, when en- 
 ergy has risen out of the extremity of disaster. 
 Belore the death of Edward the Third, the sol- 
 diers of France, from constant practice, had be- 
 come superior to those of England ; and the 
 courage of the nation, debased by centuries of 
 Roman servitude, was restored amid the agonies 
 of civil dissension. The spirit of freedom was 
 communicated to the boroughs, the only refuge 
 from insult.t which had greatly .swelled in im- 
 portance during the devastation of the countr}', 
 and emanating from the opulent cities of Flan- 
 ders, threatened the aristocracy both of France 
 and England with destruction. 
 
 The liberty of France and Flanders, to use a 
 military expression, advanced with an n\^g ^,i tho 
 oblique front; the wealthy cities of the democratic 
 Netherlands took the lead ; Paris, Rou- '^P'"'- 
 en, and Lyons were next brought into action; 
 and all the boroughs of the south of France were 
 ready, at the first success, to join the bands of 
 the confederates. The finnness of Ghent and 
 the victory of Bruges ronsed the democratic 
 spirit through all the adjoining kingdoms; the 
 nobility of all Europe took the alarm, and the in- 
 vasion of I-landers by the chivalry- of France 
 was conducted on the same principles and lor 
 the same object as the invasion of France by the 
 allies in 1793. But the j^eriod was not yet ar- 
 rived when the citizens ot towns could success- 
 fully contend with tlie forces of the aristocracy. 
 In vain the burghers of Flanders routed their 
 own barons, and with a force of sixty thousand 
 men besieged the nobles of their territorj' in Ou- 
 denarde. The steel-clad squadrons of the French 
 gendarmerie pierced their serried hands, and the 
 victor)' of Resebecque crushed the liberties of 
 France for four centuries. The French munici- 
 pal bodies, among whom the feiinents had <-il- 
 ready begun, lost all hope when the burghers of 
 Flanders were overthrown, and resigned them- 
 selves, without a struggle, to a fate which, in 
 the circumstances of the world, appeared inevi- 
 table. Twenty thousand armed citizens awaited 
 the return of the victorious monarch into Paris; 
 but the display of the burgher force came too late 
 to protect public freedom;: their leaders were 
 imprisoned and executed, and the erection of the 
 Bastile, in 13S9, marked the commencement of 
 a long period of servitude, which only its destruc- 
 tion in 1789 was intended to terminate. 
 
 The struggles of the people in France, in the 
 
 * Froissart, c. 182, 183, 184. Sism., France, x., 543, 548 ; 
 xi., 60. Hume, ii., 46.t. 
 
 t Froissart, viii., 124. Sism.,!., 549. Bar., i., 74. 
 t Bar., i., 74, 235. Sism., xi., 397, 400, 407. 
 
Chap. I.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 45 
 
 reign of Charles VI., like the revolution four 
 centuries after, vrere totally distinct, both in char- 
 acter and object, from the efforts of the English 
 in support of their liberties. The Norman bar- 
 ons extorted the great charter at Runnpnede ; the 
 French peasantry formed the insurrection of the 
 Jacquerie ; the French boroughs alone support- 
 ed the confederacy of Ghent. In the one case 
 the barons marched at the head of the popular 
 class, and stipulated for themselves and their in- 
 feriors the privileges of freedom ; in the other, 
 the nobles generally joined the throne, and com- 
 bined to suppress a spirit which threatened their 
 exclusive privileges. Moderation and humani- 
 ty distinguished the first, cnielty and exaspera- 
 tion disgraced the last. So early in the history 
 of the two countries were their popular commo- 
 tions marked by the character which has ever 
 since distinguished them, and so strongly has 
 the force of external circumstances impressed 
 the same stamp upon the efforts of the people in 
 the most remote ages.* 
 
 Various circumstances conspired after this pe- 
 riod to check the growth of public freedom, and 
 to preserve those high aristocratic powers in 
 France which ultimately led to the Revolution. 
 
 I. The French monarchy, during the feudal 
 Great feuda- ages, was rather a confederacy of 
 tones. Their separate states than a single govern- 
 effect. ment. The great vassals exercised 
 all the real powers of sovereignty independent of 
 any foreign control, those of coining money, wa- 
 ging private war, and judging exclusively in 
 civil causes. They were exempt from all public 
 tribute except the feudal aids, and subject to no 
 general legislative control. The consequences 
 of this were in the highest degree important. 
 No common necessity, the dread of no common 
 enemy, compelled the great vassals to court the 
 popular assistance, or arm their tenantry against 
 the throne. The vast power which the Conquest 
 gave to the crown in England at once curbed the 
 turbulence of the barons, established one general 
 law throughout the realm, and induced the no- 
 bles, lor their own support, to arm the yeomanry. 
 The weakness of the throne in France enabled 
 the great vassals to usurp the powers of sover- 
 eignty, broke down into separate and provincial 
 customs the general law of the country, and con- 
 fined the use of anus to the landed gentlemen 
 and their military retainers. Separate interests, 
 endless contentions, and domestic warfare, oc- 
 cupied the whole attention of the nobility. No 
 common concerns, the preservation of no com- 
 mon privileges, no general danger, cemented the 
 disunited body. The monarchy grew gray in 
 years without its subjects having experienced 
 the feelings, or been actuated by the interests, or 
 wielde<l the power of a united people.t 
 
 II. The long and bloody wars with England, 
 Effect of which lasted, with hardly any intermis- 
 the Eng- sion, for one hundred and twenty years, 
 lish wars, .^vere fatal to the growth of commercial 
 or manufacturing industry in France, and to 
 the independent spirit which naturally arises 
 from it. The influence of war was chiefly felt 
 in England by the increased deinand for domes- 
 tic industry, the prospects of plunder which con- 
 tinental expeditions afforded, and the high wa- 
 ges which were offered to rouse the energy of 
 the yeomanry.t The English invasions were 
 
 * Rir., i.. 74, 295. t llallam, i.. 927. Hume, ii., 115. 
 
 t It appears from Rymer that the Earl of Salisbury gave 
 a shiliinsf a day for every nian-at-arnis, and sixpence for 
 each archer: sums equivalent to fifteen shillings, and seven 
 
 contemplated in France with very different feel- 
 ings ; defeat and disgrace to the nobles ; plunder 
 and devastation to the burghers ; misery and 
 starvation to the peasantry. After the feudal 
 nobility were destroyed in the field of Azincour, 
 the whole bonds of society were loosened ; every 
 castle or stronghold was fortified, and became 
 the residence of a partisan, generally as formi- 
 dable to his countrymen as his enemies; war- 
 fare and rapine universally prevailed; and the 
 miserable peasants, driven into walled towns for 
 protection, could only venture into the fields to 
 cultivate the ground, with scouts stationed on 
 the tops of the steeples to warn them of the ap- 
 proach of danger. The consequences of this 
 insecurity may still be seen in the total absence 
 of cottages in all the north and east of France, 
 as contrasted with the humble but comfortable 
 dwellings which eveiywhere rise among the 
 green fields and wooded landscape of England. 
 Commercial opulence, the best nurser}' of free- 
 dom in civilized times, was extinguished during 
 these disastrous contests ; industiy annihilated 
 by the destruction of its produce and the totcil 
 insecurity of its reward ; violence became uni- 
 versal, because it alone led to distinction. It 
 was by high pecuniary sacrifices that mercena- 
 ries were obtained from foreign states ; the Scot- 
 tish auxiliaries stemmed the progress of disaster 
 at Crevant and Verneuil ; and the great milita- 
 ry monarchy of France was compelled to seek 
 for protection from the arms of a barbarous peo- 
 ple. During such public calamities the growth 
 of freedom was efiectually stopped ; and the 
 wretched inhabitants, driven to struggle, year 
 after year, for their existence with foreign and 
 domestic enemies, had neither leisure to con- 
 template the blessings of liberty, nor means to 
 acquire the wealth which could render it of 
 value.* 
 
 III. When the enthusiasm of the Maid of Or- 
 leans, the valour of the nobles, and the do- 
 mestic dissensions of England, had driv- Standing 
 en these hated invaders from their shores, 
 the numerous bands of armed men in every part 
 of the kingdom exposed the people to incessant 
 depredation, and imperiously called for some 
 vigorous exertion of the royal authority. From 
 this necessity arose the Companies of Ordon- 
 nance of Charles VII., the first example in mod- 
 ern Europe of a .standing army. These compa- 
 nies, which at first consisted only of sixteen thou- 
 sand infantry and nine thousand cavalry, soon 
 ^ave the crown a decisive superiority over the 
 feudal militia, and being always imbodied and 
 ready for action, proved more than a match for 
 the slow and uncertain armaments of the no- 
 bles. From this period the influence of the 
 crown in France steadily increased ; a series of 
 fortunate accidents united the principal fiefs to 
 the monarchy ; and neither among the feudal 
 barons nor the burgher forces could any counter- 
 poise be found to its authority. The tumult- 
 uary array of feudal power, wliich is only oc- 
 casionally called out, and veiy imperfectly dis- 
 ciplined, can never maintain a contest of any 
 duration with a small force of regular soldiers 
 who have acquired skill in the use of arms, and 
 adhere to their colours equally through adverse 
 as prosperous fortune. But to this inherent 
 weakness in the feudal forces was superadded 
 
 and sixpence of our money.— Rymer, i., 10, 392 ; MoN- 
 
 • llallam.'i., 108. Villaret, liv., 302. Sism., France, x., 
 543, 548. 
 
46 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. I. 
 
 in France the total want of any popular support 
 to the nobles. The burghers, depressed and in- 
 sulted' by the privileged classes, could not be ex- 
 pected to join in their support ; the peasants, un- 
 accustomed to the use of arms, and galled by 
 the recollection of rapine and injur)', were both 
 unable to combine against the throne,* and un- 
 willing to humble a power from wliich they 
 themselves stood in need of protection. Hence, 
 in a short time, the crown acquired despotic au- 
 thority ; and Louis XL, v/ith a regular force of 
 only twenty-four thousand infantr}^ and fifteen 
 thousand cavalry, was absolute master of his 
 dominions. 
 
 IV. The peculiar situation of France, in the 
 
 midst of the great militarj' monarchies 
 Military of ^f Europe, led to the constant mainte- 
 the nation, ^^^g ^f ^ j^j-ge Standing army, and 
 perpetuated the preponderance thus acquired by 
 the throne. Upon the decay of feudal manners, 
 consequent on the progress of luxury and the de- 
 struction of the inlluence of the nobles, which 
 resulted from the introduction of firearms, no 
 power remained in the state capable of with- 
 standing the regular forces of the monarchy. 
 The nobles flocked to Paris to share in the 
 splendour of the court, or join in the pleasures 
 of the metropolis ; the peasantry, undisciplined 
 and depressed by their superiors, and buried in 
 ignorance, lost the remembrance even of the 
 nemie of freedom. The wars with England, 
 however, had revived the military spirit, not 
 among the nobles, but the common people ; the 
 political events which followed gave this spirit 
 its natural direction, and France speedily ap- 
 peared as a conquering power. The courage 
 and energy of the nation rapidly followed this 
 new line of ambition; the sovereign was per- 
 mitted to increase the forces which led the van 
 in so brilliant a career; and the people, intoxica- 
 ted by the conquests of Charles VIII. and Fran- 
 cis I., forgot both the disasters which followed 
 their transient success, and the decisive ascend- 
 ency which they gave to the government. The 
 desire of militaiy glorj', fed by repeated tri- 
 umphs, became the prevailing passion of the 
 nation; the States-General, which for half a 
 century had nearly aecjuired the aiithority of 
 the English Parliaments, gradually fell into des- 
 uetude, and were abandoned, not so much from 
 the encroachments of the cro-<,vn as the neglect 
 of the people. For nearly two hundred years 
 before the commencement of the P>,evolution, 
 they had never once been assembled, and the na- 
 tion, dazzled by the pageant of military' success, 
 silently resigned to the crown the whole real 
 powers of goveniment.t 
 
 V. From the earliest times, the distinction be- 
 Privilces of twccn patrician and plebeian, between 
 the nobility, noble and basebom, had been estab- 
 lished in France ; and, by an unhappy custom, 
 this privilege descended to all the children, in- 
 stead of being confined, as in England, to the 
 eldest son. The consequence was a complete 
 separation of the higher and lower orders, and 
 the establishment of a line of demarcation, which 
 neither talent, enterprise, nor success was able 
 to pass. " It is a terrible thing," says Paschal, 
 " to reflect on the efiect of rank ; it gives to a 
 child newly born a degree of consideration 
 which half a century of labour and virtue could 
 not procure." Of all the circiunstances in the 
 
 ♦ Charles V., i., 121, I2.S. Monstrclet, part ii., ^ 139. 
 Hall., i., 117, 118. Philip do Comines. i., 384. 
 t Iliaiam, i., 256. Mably, VilHers, ii., 128. 
 
 early historj' of France, there was none which 
 had a more powerful efiect than this in deter- 
 mining the character of the Revolution. 
 
 VI. The Reformation, so important in its 
 consequences in other states, failed Failure of the 
 of producing any material effects in Reformation 
 France, from the scanty numbers of ii France, 
 the class who were fitted to receive its doctrines. 
 In the maritime and commercial cities on the 
 western coast it struck its roots ; but the peasan- 
 try of the country- were too ignorant, the nobles 
 of the metropolis too profligate, to embrace its 
 precepts. The contest between the contending 
 parties was disgraced by the most inhuman atro- 
 cities: the massacre of St. Bartholomew was 
 imparalleled in horror till the Revolution arose, 
 and forty thousand persons were murdered in 
 different parts of France, in pursuance of the 
 perfidious order of the court. Nor were the pro- 
 ceedings of the Huguenots more distinguished by 
 moderation or forbearance ; their eaiiy insurrec- 
 tions were attended by a general destruction of 
 houses, property, and human life; and the hid- 
 eous features of a servile war disgraced the first 
 efforts of religious freedom. But it was in vain 
 that the talents of Coligni, the generosity of 
 Henr\', and the wisdom of Sully, supported their 
 cause ; the party which they formed in the nation 
 was too small, their inlluence on the public 
 mind too inconsiderable, to furnish the means of 
 lasting success; and the monarch, who had 
 reached the throne by the efforts of the Protest- 
 ants, was obliged to consolidate his power, by 
 embracing the faith of his adversaries. France 
 was not enslaved because she remained Catho- 
 lic, but she remained Catholic because she was 
 enslaved : the seeds of religious freedom were 
 sown with no sparing hand, and profusely wa- 
 tered by the blood of martyrs ; but the soil was 
 not fitted for their reception, and the shoots, 
 though fair at first, were soon withered by the 
 blasts of despotism. The history of her Refor- 
 mation, as the annals of its suppression in Spain, 
 exhibits the fruitless struggles of partial freedom 
 with general servitude; of local intelligence 
 with public ignorance ; of the energj" of advan- 
 ced civilization with the force of long-established 
 despotism. The contest arose too soon for the 
 interests of freedom, and too late for the refor- 
 mation of power; the last spark of liberty ex- 
 pired in France with the capture of Rochelle; 
 and two centuries of unrelenting oppression were 
 required to awaken the people generally to a 
 sense of the value of those blessings which their 
 ancestors had forcibly torn from their Huguenot 
 brethren.* 
 
 But the influence of despotism in modem 
 times cannot permanently extinguish the light 
 of reason. The press has provided in the end 
 an antidote to the worst species of government, 
 except, perhaps, that which arises from its own 
 abuse; its iniluence on everj- other oppression 
 may be slow, but it is progressive, and ultimate- 
 ly irresistible. In vain the monarchs of France 
 studiously degraded the lower orders; in vain 
 they covered the conuption of despotism by the 
 splendour of militar)' glory ; in vain they encour- 
 aged science, and rewarded art, and sought to 
 turn the flood of genius into the narrow channels 
 of regulated ambition; the vigour of thought 
 outstripped the fetters of power; the energy of 
 civilization broke the bonds of slavery, i'he 
 
 * Lac, Guencs de Religion, ii., 50, 200, 359, 360. Sully, 
 T., 123. 
 
Chap. U.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 47 
 
 middling ranks, in the progress of time, became 
 conscious of their importance; the restrictions 
 of feudal manners re\-olting to men enlightened 
 by the progress of knowledge ; the chains of an- 
 cient servitude insupportable to those -n-ho felt 
 the rising ambition of freedom. Not the embar- 
 rassment of the finances, not the corniption of 
 the court, not the sufierings of the peasantry, 
 brought about the Revolution, for they are to be 
 foimd matched in many coimtries, disturbed by 
 no convTilsions ; but the hateful pride of the aris- 
 tocracy, based on centuries of exclusive power, 
 and galling to an age of ascending ambition.* 
 
 The extraordinary character of the French 
 Causes of the Revolution therefore arose, not from 
 savage char- ^^7 peculiarities in the disposition of 
 acter of the the people, or any faults exclusively 
 French Revo- owing to the government, but the 
 lurion. weight of despotism which had pre- 
 
 ceded, and the magnitude of the changes which 
 were to follow it. It was distinguished by violence 
 and stained with blood, because it originated 
 chiefly with the labouring classes, and partook of 
 the savage features of a servile revolt ; it totally 
 subverted the institutions of the country, because 
 it condensed within a few years the changes 
 which should have taken place in as many cen- 
 turies ; it speedily fell under the direction of the 
 most depraved of the people, because its gui- 
 dance was early abandoned by the higher to the 
 lower orders; it led to a general spoliation of 
 property, because it was founded on a universal 
 insurrection of the poor against the rich. France 
 would have done less at the Revolution if she 
 had done more before it; she would not have so 
 unmercifully imsheathed the sword to govern if 
 she had not so long been governed by the sword ; 
 she would not have fallen for years under the 
 guillotine of the populace, if she had not groaned 
 for centuries under the fetters of the nobility. 
 
 It is in periods of apparent disaster, during the 
 suiTering of whole generations, that the greatest 
 
 improvements on human character Beneficid 
 have been effected, and a foundation effect of 
 laid for those changes which ultimate- periods of 
 ly prove most beneficial to the spe- suffering, 
 cies. The wars of the Heptarchy,' the Norman 
 Conquest, the Contests of the Roses, the Great 
 Rebellion, are apparently the most disastrous pe- 
 riods of our annals ; those in which civil discord 
 was most furious, and public suffering most 
 universal. Yet these are precisely the periods 
 in which its peculiar temper was given to the 
 English character, and the greatest addition 
 made to the causes of English prosperity; in 
 which courage arose out of the extremity of mis- 
 fortune, national union out of foreign oppres- 
 sion, public emancipation out of aristocratic dis- 
 sension, general freedom out of regal ambition. 
 The national character which we now possess, 
 the public benefits we now enjoy, the freedom by 
 which we are distinguished, the energy by which 
 we are sustained, are in a great measure owing 
 to the renovating storms which have, in former 
 ages, passed over our country. The darkest 
 periods of French annals, in like manner, those 
 of the successors of Charlemagne, of the English 
 wars, of the contests of religion, of the despotism 
 of the Bourbons, are probably the ones which 
 have formed the most honourable features of the 
 French character; which have ingrafted on the 
 slavish habits of Roman servitude the generous 
 courage of modem chivalrj' ; on the passive sub- 
 mission of feudal ignorance, the impetuous 
 valour of victorious patriotism ; which have ex- 
 tricated, from the collision of opinion, the powers 
 of thought, and nursed, amid the corruption of 
 despotism, the seeds of libert\^ Through all the 
 horrors of the Revolution, the same beneficial 
 law of Nature may be discerned ; and the annals 
 of its career will hot be thrown away, if, amid 
 the greatest calamities, they teach contidence in 
 the Wi.sdom which governs, and inspire hatred 
 at the vices which desolate the world. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CAUSES IN FRANCE WHICH PREDISPOSED TO REVOLUTION. 
 
 A R G U M E N T. 
 Proiimate Causes of the Revolution. — The general Rise of 
 the Lower Orders arising from the general Prosperity of 
 France, and the Fetters on tjie Middling Orders.— De- 
 struction of the Powers of the great Feudatories. — Mili- 
 tary! Spirit of the People. — Philosophy and Literature. — 
 State of the Church. — Privileges of the Noblesse. — Taxa- 
 tion.— State of the labouring Poor.— Feudal Services. — 
 Administration of Justice. — Royal Prerogative. — Corrup- 
 tion at Court in prior Reigns. — Embarrassments of Fi- 
 nance. — American War. — German Discipline. — Excessive 
 Passion for Innovation. — Equally among the Nobles as the 
 People. — Character of Louis XVI. — Maurepas, his first 
 Minister. — Aided by Turgot, NecVar, and Afalesherbes. 
 — Their proposed Reforms. — Opposed by the Nobles. — 
 Death of Maurepas, and Dissolution cf his Ministry. — 
 Queen Marie Antoinette. — Vergennes, Minister. — Ca- 
 lonne's Plans of Finance. — They fail. — Assembly of the 
 Notables. — Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse, Minister. — 
 States-Geueral demanded. — Ineffectual Struggle with the 
 Parliaments.— Growing Spirit of the People.— Coup d'etat 
 of Brienne. — Fails.— Convocation of the States-General 
 agreed to.— Neckar's Return.— He doubles the Tiers Etat. 
 —Opening of the States-General fixed for Mav, 1789.— 
 General discussion on the projertcd Changes,— The Elec- 
 tions, and Temper of the Peop'le.— Effect of these Conces- 
 sions of Neckar.— Napoleon's Opinion nn them.- Reflec- 
 tionsonthe Difference Ijetweenthe Love of Freedom and 
 the Love of Power.— The Higher Orders headed the Rev- 
 olution. 
 
 " The people," says the greatest of French 
 * Rivarol, 92, 93. 
 
 Statesmen, " never revolt from fickleness, or the 
 mere desire of change. It is the impatience of 
 sufl'ering which alone has this efiect."'* Subse- 
 quent events have not falsified the maxim of 
 ISully, though they have shown that it requires 
 modification. If the condition of the lower or- 
 ders in France, anterior to the Revolution, is ex- 
 amined, it will not be deemed surprising that a 
 con^'^ilsion should have arisen ; and if humanity 
 sees much to deplore in the calamities it pro- 
 duced, it will find much cause for consolation in 
 the grievances it has removed. 
 
 The observation of the French statesman, 
 however, is true only in reference to the com- 
 mencement of revolutionary troubles. The peo- 
 ple over a whole country never pass from a 
 state of quiescence to one of tumult without the 
 experience of practical grievances. Disturban- 
 ces never assume the magnitude of revolutions, 
 unless these grievances affect the great body of 
 the citizens. But when the minds of men have 
 been once set afloat by successful resistance, 
 subsequent innovations are made from mere 
 temporary causes ; the restlessness following 
 high excitation ; the distress consequent on sus- 
 pended credit ; the audacity arising from vmpun- 
 
 * Sully, i., 133. 
 
48 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. If. 
 
 ished crime. " The people," said Robespierre, 
 " will as soon revolt without oppression, as the 
 ocean will heave in billows without the wind." 
 " True," replied Vergniaud, '• but wave after 
 wave will rail upon the shore after the fuiy of 
 the winds is stilled." 
 
 The universality of the disaffection which pre- 
 Universality vailed in France anterior to the Rev- 
 of the disaf- olution is a sufficient indication that 
 fection. causes were in operation affecting all 
 classes in the state. Temporary' distress occa- 
 sions passing seditions ; local grievances excite 
 partial discontent ; but general and long-contin- 
 ued suffering alone can produce a steady and ex- 
 tended resistance. 
 
 In France, at the convocation of the States- 
 General, the desire for change was universal, 
 excepting in part of the privileged orders. The 
 cruelty of the Jacobins, and the precipitate meas- 
 ures of the Constituent Assembly, subsequently 
 produced a veiy- great division of opinion, and 
 lighted the Hames of civil war in Lyons and La 
 Vendee; but, in the beginning, one universal 
 voice in favour of freedom was heard from Ca- 
 lais to the Pyrenees. The nobles, for the most 
 part, returned members in the interest of their 
 order ; the dignified clergy did the same ; but 
 the Tiers Etat and the cures unanimously sup- 
 ported the cause of independence. The bitter 
 rancour which subsequent injustice produced 
 between the clergy and the supporters of the 
 Revolution was unknown in its earlier stages ; 
 the Tennis-court Oath found no warmer sup- 
 porters than in the solitudes of La Vendee ; and 
 the first body who joined the commons in their 
 stand against the throne were the representatives 
 of the ordinary clergy of France.* 
 
 Without doubt, the observation of a modem 
 philosopher is well founded, that the march of 
 civilization necessarily produces a collision be- 
 tween the aristocratic and the popular classes in 
 every advancing coramunit}'. Power founded 
 in conquest, privileges handed down from bar- 
 barous ages, prerogatives stiitcd to periods of 
 anarchy, are incompatible with the rising de- 
 sires springing from the tranquillity and opulence 
 of civilized life. One or other must yield ; the 
 power of the noblesse must extinguish the rising 
 importance of the commons, or it must be mod- 
 ified by their exertions. But it is not necessarj- 
 that this change should be etlected by a revolu- 
 tion. It is quite possible that it may be accom- 
 plished so gradually as not only to produce no 
 ■convnlsion, but be felt only by its vivifying and 
 beneficial effects upon society. It is sudden in- 
 novation which brings about the catastrophe; 
 the rapidity of the descent which converts the 
 stream into a cataract.t 
 
 Situated in the centre of European civiliza- 
 M 111 „ tion, it was impossible that France, in 
 ranks desi- the eighteenth century, could escape 
 rous of elo- the general tendency towards free in- 
 ▼ation. stitutions. How despotic soever her 
 government may have been ; how powerful her 
 ai-mies; how haughty her nobility, the natural 
 progress of opulence, 'joined to the force of philo- 
 sophical inquiry, spread an unruly spirit among 
 the middling ranks. The strength of the gov- 
 ernment, by suppressing private wars, and af- 
 fording toleral)le security to the fruits of indus- 
 try, accelerated the period of a reaction against 
 itself The burghers, after the enjoyment of 
 centuries of repose, and the acquisition of a 
 
 I) Miff., i., 20. Th., i., 8, 41. t Guiz., Hist. Mod., 321. 
 
 competent sliare of wealth, felt indignant at the 
 barriers which prevented them from rising into 
 the higher r;mks of society ; the enterprising, 
 conscious of powers suited to elevated stations, 
 repined at their exclusion from offices of trust or 
 importance ; the studious, imbued with the spirit 
 of ancient freedom, contrasted the brilliant career 
 of talent in the republics of antiquity with its 
 fettered walk in modern times. All classes, ex- 
 cept the privileged ones, were discontented with 
 the government, in consequence of the expanded 
 wants which a state of advancing civilization 
 produced. No institutions, in modem times, can 
 remain stationary, excepting in countries such 
 as the Eastern dynasties, which, by preventing 
 the accumulation of wealth, prevent the possi- 
 bility of individual elevation : if the lower or- 
 ders are permitted to better their condition, their 
 expansive force must, in the end, affect the gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 The universality of slavery prevented this 
 progress from appearing in ancient times. The 
 civilization of antiquity was nothing but the ag- 
 gregate of municipal institutions ; its freedom, 
 the exclusive privilege of the inhabitants of 
 towns. Hence, with the progress of opulence, 
 and the corruption of manners in the higher 
 classes, the struggles of liberty gradually decli- 
 ned, and at last tenninated in the authority of a 
 single despot. Their freest ages Avere the earli- 
 est ; their most enslaved, the latest of their his- 
 tory. No pressure from below was felt upon 
 the exclusive privileges of the higher orders, 
 because the classes from which it should have 
 originated were fettered in the bonds of slavery. 
 Careless of the future, destitute of property, in- 
 capable of rising in society, provided for by oth- 
 ers, the great body of the labouring classes re- 
 mained in a state of pacific servitude, neither 
 disquieting their superiors by their ambition, 
 nor supporting them by their exertions.* 
 
 In modem times, on the other hand, the eman- 
 cipation of the labouring classes, prgssn^g 
 tlirough the influence of religion and from below 
 the extension of information, has, by strongly felt 
 means of the press, opened the means '" °>o<le''" 
 of elevation to the great bo^dy of the """'*' 
 people. Individual ambition, the desire of bet- 
 tering their condition, have thus been let in to 
 affect the progress of freedom. The ebullition 
 of popular discontent becomes most powerful 
 in tne later periods of society, because it is then 
 that the accumulated wealth of ages has render- 
 ed the lower orders most powerful. The prog- 
 ress of opulence and the increase of industry 
 thus become favourable to the cause of liberty, 
 because they augment the influence of those 
 classes by whose exertions it mtist be maintain- 
 ed. The strife of faction is felt with most se- 
 verity in those periods when the increasing 
 pressure from below strains the bands by which 
 it has been compressed, and danger or example 
 has not taught the great necessity of gradual re- 
 laxation. If they are slowly and cautiously un- 
 bent, it is Reformation ; if suddenly removed, 
 either by tlie fervour of innovation or the fury 
 of revolt, it is Revolution. 
 
 The operation of these causes may distinctly 
 be perceived in the frame of society in every 
 free country in modem times. Universally the 
 chief spring of prospei ity is to be found in the 
 lower classes ; it is the ascending spirit and in- 
 creasing energ}' of the poor, when kept within 
 
 * Guiz., Hist. Mod., 3I,5J. 
 
Chap. IL] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 49 
 
 due bounds by the authority of government and 
 the influence of the aristocracy, which both 
 lays the foundation of national wealth, and se- 
 cures the progress of national glory. Ask the 
 professional man what occasions the difhculty 
 so generally experienced in struggling through 
 the world, "or even in maintaining his ground 
 against his numerous competitors : he will im- 
 mediately answer that it is tlie pressure from be- 
 low which occasions all his difficulty ; his equals 
 he can withstand ; his superiors overcome ; it is 
 the efibrts of his inferiors which are chielly for- 
 midable. Those, in general, who rise to emi- 
 nence in every profession, are the sons of the 
 middling or lower orders; men whom poverty 
 has inured to hardship, or necessity compelled to 
 exertion, and who have acquired, in the early 
 school of difficulty, habits more i^aluable than 
 all the gifts which fortune has bestowed upon 
 their superiors.* 
 
 So universal is the influence of this principle, 
 Its impor- ^o important its effects upon the prog- 
 tan't effects ress and prospects of society, that it 
 in inodem ma)' be considered as the grand dis- 
 times. tinction between ancient and modern 
 
 times ; all others sink into insignificance in com- 
 parison. The balance of power in a free coun- 
 try is totally altered in consequence of Uie pro- 
 digious addition thus made to the power and 
 importance of the lower orders; a spring of ac- 
 tivity and vigour is provided in the humbie sta- 
 tions of life, Avhich proves a raj-iid remedy for 
 almost everj- national disaster except those ari- 
 sing from their own licentiousness; a power de- 
 veloped in the democratic party in the common- 
 wealth, which renders new bul«varks necessaiy 
 to maintain the equilibrium (>i society. 
 
 Without some advantasres to counteract the 
 superior energv and more industrious habits of 
 their inferiors.'the higher ranks in a prosperous, 
 opulent, and advancing state must in general 
 fall a prey to their ambition. The indolence of 
 wealth, the selfishness of luxuiy, the pride of 
 birth, will provs but feeble antagonists to t)ie 
 nressure of poverty, the self-denial of necessity, 
 the ambjtioa of talent. The successive eleva- 
 tion of the more fortunate or able of the lovicr 
 orders to the higher ranks of society is no suf- 
 iiciepc antidote to the danger, for it is rare that 
 energy survives the necessity which gave it 
 birth; and nowhere does the enen'ating influ- 
 ence of weallli appear more slronErl}' than in the 
 immediate descendants of those who had raised 
 themselves by their exertions. The incessant 
 development of vigour in the lower orders, in- 
 deed, if kept within due bounds, and directed in 
 its objects by the influence of religion and the 
 habits of virtue, will always bring a sufficient 
 portion of taleiu and industry to uphold the for- 
 t'jnes of the state, but not to maintain the as- 
 cendency of one class witliin its bosom ; and in 
 the strife with domestic ambition, the aristocracy 
 will find but a feeble support in the descendants 
 of those whom recent wealth has enriched, or 
 recent services ennobled. 
 
 The enervating eflect of Avealth upon national 
 character, and its tendency to extinguish the 
 love of freedom, so justly and so feelingly com- 
 
 * The history and present state of England exhibit nu- 
 merous and splendid examples of the great acquirements 
 and deeds of persons connected by birth with the aristo- 
 cratic classes ; but this rather confirms than weakens the 
 principle above stated. But for the competition which they 
 had to maintain with the middling and lower orders, there 
 is no reason to suppose that they would have been superior 
 to similar classes in France or the continental states. 
 
 Vol. I.— G 
 
 plained of by the writers of antiquity, has not 
 hitherto been so strongly experienced in modem 
 times from the influence of the same cause. 
 Corruption uniformly follows in the train of 
 opulence; if those who have raised themselves 
 by their exertions withstand the contagion, it 
 rarely fails to affect their descendants. But the 
 continual rise of citizens from the inferior ranks 
 of society for a time strongly counteracts the in- 
 fluence of this principle; "how feeble or inef- 
 ficient soever the higher ranks may become, a 
 sufficient infusion of energy is long provided in 
 the successive elevation of classes whom ne- 
 cessity has com.pelled to exertion. It is by pre- 
 cluding their elevation, or in consequence of 
 corruption extending to their ranks, that an age 
 of opulence sinks irrecoverably into one of de- 
 generacy. 
 
 But immortality or perfection is not the desti- 
 ny of nations in this world any more than of 
 individuals. The elevation and instruction of 
 the people has opened fountains from which the 
 vigour of youth is long communicated to the so- 
 cial body ; .but it has neither purified its vices 
 nor eradicated the seeds of mortality. The tree 
 of knowledge has brought forth its accustomed 
 fraits of good and evil ; the commtmication of 
 intelligence to the mass of mankind has opened 
 the doors as wide to the corruptions as to the 
 virtues of our nature ; the progress of wicked- 
 ness is as certain, and in some cases even more 
 rapid, in the most educated than in the most 
 ignorant states. The anxious desire for eleva- 
 tion and distinction which the consciousness of 
 knowledge gives to the middling ranks, long an 
 antidote to the degeneracy of the higher, at length 
 becomes the source of corruptions as great, and 
 effeminacy as complete, as the slavish submis- 
 sion of despotic states. The necessary distinc- 
 tions of society appear insupportable in an age 
 of ascending ambition; and in the strife which 
 ensues, the bulwarks of freedom are overturned, 
 not less by the party which invokes than that 
 which retards the march of democratic power. 
 After the strife is over, it is too often discovered 
 that the balance of freedom has been destroyed 
 during its continuance, and that the elements of 
 general liberty no longer exist from the anni- 
 hilation of all classes between the prince and 
 the peasant. The lower orders then sink rapid- 
 ly and irrecoverably into degeneracy from the 
 experienced impossibility of effecting anything 
 ultimately beneficial to themselves by contend- 
 ing for independence. According to the con- 
 dition of society, the age of the state, and the 
 degree of public virtue which prevails, such 
 social contests are the commencement or the 
 termination of an era of prosperity and glory; 
 the expansion of bursting vegetation, or the fer- 
 mentation which precedes corruption ; the revo- 
 lution which overthrew the tyranny of Tarquin, 
 or the disastrous contests which prepared, in the 
 extinction of patrician power, the final servitude 
 of the Empire. 
 
 These causes, however, whatever maybe their 
 ultimate effects, render a collision between the 
 higher and lower orders unavoidable in every 
 advancing state in modern timeS. The nobles 
 are naturallv tenacious of the privileges and 
 dignities which have descended to them from 
 their ancestors ; the middling ranks as naturally 
 endeavour to enlarge theirs, when their increas- 
 ing wealth or importance enables them to demand 
 it; the lower ultimately become clamorous for a 
 participation in the franchises which they see 
 
50 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IL 
 
 exercised by their superiors. It was in the 
 boroughs of Europe that the struggle first com- 
 menced, because there the protection of walls 
 and of assembled multitudes had produced the 
 eai'liest passion for independence: it next ap- 
 peared in England, because there the security of 
 an insular situation and the eflbrts of an indus- 
 trious people had vivified the seeds of Saxon 
 liberty: it lastly spread to France, because its 
 regular government and powerful armies had 
 long secured the blessings of internal tranquillity 
 and foreign independence. 
 
 I. The destruction of the power of the great 
 Destruction vassals of the crown, and the consoli- 
 of the pow- dation of the monarchy into one great 
 er of the no- kingdom, during the reigns of Louis 
 Wes. XL, Francis I., and Ilenr)^ IV., were 
 
 undoubtedly essential to the Revolution. This 
 anomalousand unforeseen result, however, arose 
 not from the oppression so much as the protec- 
 tion afforded by the government to the people. 
 Had the central power been weaker, aM the 
 privileges of the great feudatories remained un- 
 impaired, France, like Germany, ^yottld have 
 been split into a number of independent duchies, 
 and all unity of feeling or national energy lost 
 in the division of separate interests. A revolu- 
 tion could no more have arrived there than in 
 Silesia or Saxony ; whereas, by tlie destruction 
 of the power of the great vassals, and the rise of 
 a formidable military force at the command of 
 the central government, the unity of the nation 
 was preserved, its independence secured, and its 
 industry protected. For a century and a half 
 before the commencement of the Revolution, 
 France had enjoyed the blessings of domestic 
 tranquillity ; no internal dissensions, no foreign 
 invasions,'had broken this long period of security 
 and repose ; war was known only as affording 
 an outlet to the ardent and impatient spirits, or 
 as yielding a rich hai'vest of national glor}^ ; the 
 Avorst severities of aristoci-atic oppression had 
 long been prevented by the cessation of private 
 warfare. During this interval of peace, the 
 relative situation and feelings of the difierent 
 ranks in society underwent a total change; 
 wealth silently accumulated in the lower orders, 
 from the unceasing eflbrts of individual indus- 
 try ; power imperceptibly glided from the higher, 
 in consequence of the absorption of their reve- 
 nues in objects of luxurv. When civil dissen- 
 sions again broke oiU, this ditierence appeared 
 in the most striking manner. It was no longer 
 the teri'itorial noblesse, headed by their respect- 
 ive lords, who took the field, or the burghers of 
 towns, who maintained insulated contests for the 
 defence of their walls; l)Ut tlie national guard, 
 who everywhere flew to arms, animated by one 
 common feeling, and strong in the conscious- 
 ness of mutuarsupport. Tlioy did not wait for 
 their landlords to lead or their magistrates to di- 
 rect; but, acting boldly for themselves, main- 
 tained the cause of democratic freedom against 
 the powers they had hitherto been accustomed 
 to obey. 
 
 II. The military spirit of the French people. 
 Military ^nd the "native courage which a long 
 spintof the series of national glories had fostered, 
 people. rendered them capable both of the 
 moral fortitude to commence, and the patient 
 endurance to sustain a conflict. But for this 
 circumstance the Revolution would never have 
 been attempted, or, if begun, would have been 
 speedily crushed by the military force at the dis- 
 posal of the monarcliy. In many countries of 
 
 Europe, such as Italy, Portugal, and Spain, the 
 people have lost, during centuries of peace, the 
 firmness requisite to earn their freedom. They 
 complain of their oppressors, they lament their 
 degeneracy, they bewail their liberties, but they 
 have not the boldness to attempt their vindication. 
 Unless under the guidance of foreign officers, 
 they are incapable of any sustained or courage- 
 ous eflbrts in the field : when that guardianship 
 is removed, they sink immediately into their na- 
 tive imbecility. But the case was very diiferent 
 with the French. The long and disastrous wars 
 with the English ; the religious contests of the 
 sixteenth century ; the continued conflicts with 
 the European powers, had spread a military spirit 
 throughout the people, which neither the enjoy- 
 ment of domestic peace nor the advantages of 
 unbroken protection had been able to extin- 
 guish. In every age the French have been the 
 most warlike people of Europe, and the spirit 
 of military enterprise is nearly allied to that of 
 civil freedom. Military courage may, and often 
 does, subsist without domestic liberty; but do- 
 mestic liberty cannot long subsist without mili- 
 tary courage. 
 
 111. Though the Refonnation was extinguish- 
 ed in France, freedom of thought and philosophy 
 the spirit of investigation were unre- and litera- 
 sirained in the regions of taste and t"'^- 
 phiV)sophy. Louis XIV. made no attempt to 
 curb the literary genius of his age, and the in- 
 tellectual vigour which was exhibited during his 
 reign, on general subjects, has never been sur- 
 pas.sed. In the mental strife which occurred 
 during the Revolution no more energetic specu- 
 lation is to be lound than in the writings of Cor- 
 neille and Pascal. But it is impossible that un- 
 fettered mquiry can long subsist without politi- 
 cal controversy becoming the subject of investi- 
 gation. Religion and politics, the condition of 
 man here and hereafter, ever must form the most 
 interesting objects of thought. This chan<'-e ac- 
 cordingly took place under the feeble successors 
 of the Grande Monarque. In t\»e philosophical 
 speculations of the eighteenth century, in the 
 writings of Voltaire, Rousseau, Pcaynal," and the 
 enc3'clopffidists, the most free and imreserved 
 discussion on political subjects took plate. By 
 a singular blindness, the constituted authorities 
 how despotic soever, made no attempt to c\irb. 
 these inquiries, which, being all couched in geii- 
 eral terms, or made in reference to other states,, 
 appeared to have no immediate bearing on the 
 tranquillity of the kingdom. Strong in the sup- 
 port of the nobility, the protection of the army, 
 and the long- established tranquillity of the coun- 
 try, they deemed their power beyond tlie reach 
 of attack, and anticipated no danger from di'eams 
 on the social contract, or the maimers and spirit 
 of nations. A direct attack on the monarchy 
 would have been followed by an immediate place 
 in the Bastile ; but general disquisitions excited 
 no alarm either among the nobility or in the gov- 
 ernment. So universal was this delusion, that 
 the young nobility amused themselves with vis- 
 ionary speculations concerning the original 
 equality and pristine state of man, deeming 
 such speculations as inapplicable to their case 
 as the license of Otaheite or the equality of Tar- 
 tary.* 
 
 It is not surprising that the higher ranks mis- 
 took the signs of the times. They were advan- 
 cing into a region in which the ancient land- 
 
 * Segur's Memoir.s, i., p. 62. Lac, i., 12, 10. 
 
Chap. II.] 
 
 marks were unknown ; where Ihe S)f.^s of a new 
 heaven, and hitherto unseen constellations, were 
 to guide the statesman. Judf,'ing iVom the past, 
 no danger was to be apprehended; for all former 
 convulsions of a serious description had been 
 headed by a portion, at least, of the higher ranks. 
 Judging from what we now know of the future, 
 the speck was already to be seen in the iioiizon 
 which was to overwhelm the universe with dark- 
 ness. 
 
 The speculations of these eloquent philoso- 
 phers spread widely among tlie rising genera- 
 lion. Captivated by the novelty of the ideas 
 Avhich were developed, dazzled by the lustre of 
 the eloquence which was employed, seduced by 
 the examples of antiquity wliic'h were held up 
 to imitation, the youth warmly embraced, not 
 only free, but republican principles. The in- 
 justice of feudal oppression, the hardship of feu- 
 dal exclusion, produced a corresponding reaction 
 in the public mind. In the middling ranks, in 
 particular, upon whom the chains of servitude 
 hirng heaviest, and who longed most for emanci- 
 pation, because they would be the first to profit 
 by it, the passion for ancient freedom was 
 wrought up to the highest pitch. Madame Ro- 
 land, the daughter of an engraver, and living in 
 an humble station, v.-cpt at nine years of age be- 
 cause she was not born a Roman citizen, and 
 carried Plutarch's Lives, instead of her breviar}-, 
 in her hand Avhen she attended mass in the Ca- 
 thedral.* 
 
 The tenour of the prevailing idca.s which have 
 moved the public mind may ahrays be Icnov.-n 
 ti-om the stvle of eloquence'adopted, and tlie al- 
 lusions made use of bv those who direct it. Du- 
 ring the great Rebellion in England, the language 
 universally employed by the popular leaders was 
 that of gloomv fanatici-^m; their images and al- 
 lusions were all drawn from the Old Testament. 
 Fanaticism was the engine by which alone, at 
 that period, the great body of the people could be 
 moved. In France, religion v/as never once al- 
 luded to by tiie popular party ; or if it was, it was 
 tmly to be made the subject of derision and oblo- 
 (piv. Classical images, reference to the freedom 
 and spirit of antiquity, fonn the great means of 
 public excitation ; the names of Brutus and Cato, 
 of Scipio and Thcmistocles, v."crc constantly 
 flowing from their lips; the national assembly 
 never resoimded with such tumultuous applause 
 as when some fortunate alhision to the heroes 
 of Greece or Rome was made ; the people never 
 v^-ere wrought up to such a state of fervour as 
 when they -svere called on to follow the example 
 of the patriots of the ancient republics. Even in 
 periods of extreme peril, with the prospect of im- 
 mediate death before their eyes, the same sjslen- 
 did imageiy was employed ; and it is impossible 
 to read, without emotion, the generoiis senfi- 
 ments which the victims of popular violence fre- 
 (^uently uttered, at their la.st moments, in the 
 words of ancient eloquence.t 
 
 IV. The CiicRcn in France experienced the 
 fate of all attempts, in an advancing 
 Church ^6' ^o fetter the human mind; the re- 
 sistance to its autliority became gen- 
 eral, and in the fervour of opposition, the good 
 and the bad parts of its doctrines were indiscrim- 
 inately rejected. This is the usual consequence 
 of attempts to force incredible and absurd doc- 
 trines upon public belief As long as the minds 
 
 HISTORY OF r.UROi^E. 
 
 51 
 
 * Madame Roland, i., I 
 t Lingard, xi., 360. 
 
 Introduction, p. 18. 
 
 of the people are in a state of torpor or inactivi- 
 t}^, they embrace, without scruple, Avhatever is 
 taught by their sjiiritual guides ; but when the 
 spirit of investigation is roused, and the light of 
 reason breaks in, the reaction becomes just as 
 strong in the opposite direction, and infidel sup- 
 plies the place of sujierstitious fanaticism. R,e- 
 ligioits as well as political reformers seldom 
 content themselves with amending v.hat is real- 
 ly defective in the subject of their improvement; 
 in the fei-vour of innovation they destroy the 
 Avhole, because part has been formd corrupted. 
 It vras thus with the Catholic Church of France; 
 supported, as it has l^een, by the greatest names, 
 and aiiorned by the most splendid ability ; teach- 
 ing, tor the iiiost part, the most simple and be- 
 neficent system of belief it lell into general ob- 
 loquy in consequence of the irrational nature of 
 some of its tenets. How strong soever the force 
 of superstiiion may be, the power of reason is 
 still stronger; if the former is to be supported, the 
 latter must be enchained. 
 
 Hence the rise of philosophical investigation, 
 in France was attended by an extraordinary de- 
 gree, not merely of free, but irreligious thought. 
 The writings of Raynal, Voltaire, Diderot, and 
 Rousseau, are too well known to render any il- 
 lustration of this necessaiy. Such productions 
 are not permanently hurtful to the cause of re- 
 ligion; the reaction comes with unerring cer- 
 tainty; and the cause of Christianit}-, purified in 
 the furnace of its human imperfections, at length 
 comes forth iu ])riineval simplicity and with 
 renovated strength. Already the reaction has 
 begun, and the calm eye of philosophical inves- 
 tigation, undeterred by the sneers of an infidel 
 age, has traced in the French capital, to admi- 
 ring multitudes, the historical blessings of reli- 
 gious institutions. But the immediate efleets of 
 these skeptical writings were to the last degree 
 destructive. Bv accustoming men to turn into 
 ridicule what "others most revere, by leading 
 them to throw off the principles and faith of their 
 forefathers, they prepared the way for a general 
 dissolution, not only of the bonds of religion, but 
 of society. It is a slight step for those who have 
 discarded restraint in religious, to disregard au- 
 thority in civil concerns.* 
 
 Within the bosom of the Church, too, and in 
 all who fell within the sphere of its influence, 
 the seeds of deep-rooted discontent were to he 
 found. This an>se from the invidious exclusion 
 of all persons of plebeian birth from the dignities 
 and emolupjents of the ecclesiastical establish- 
 ment. In extraordinary cases, indeed, the force 
 of tale^nJ may have procured elevation, without 
 the atfvantages of blood; but, generally speak- 
 in?, the dignitaries of the Church were composed 
 of the same class as the marshals or princes of 
 the Empire. While the bishops and elevated 
 clergy were rolling in wealth, or glittering in the 
 sunshine of royal favour, the humbler clergy, to 
 Avhom the whole practical duties of Christianity 
 were devolved, toiled in virtuous obscurity, 
 hardlj' elevated either in rank or comfort above 
 the peasantry who composed their flocks.t The 
 
 * Guiz., Hist. Etirop. 
 
 t The total revenues of the Church, derived from tithes, 
 were 130,000,000 francs, of which only 42,000,000 were in 
 the hands of the parochial clergy:* the number of the ec- 
 clesiastics was 80,000. t But this revenue, larg-e as it was, 
 was inconsiderable, com[iared to the extent of the territo- 
 rial possessions of this body, which embraced nearly a half 
 
 * Nt^rkar. 
 
 1 Sieres, SSI. B.KJo'.lieq'ie d'un Homme Public, par CoDdorcet, iii., 132. 
 
52 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. II. 
 
 simple piety and unostentatious usefulness of 
 these rural priests, while it endeared them to 
 their parishioners, formed a striking contrast to 
 the luxurious habits and dissipated lives of the 
 highborn dignitaries of the Church. Their 
 enormous wealth excited the env}^ both of their 
 own establishment and of the lower classes of 
 the people, while the general idleness in which 
 they passed their lives aftbrded no possibility 
 of justifying the scandalous inequality of their 
 fortunes. Hence the universal indignation, in 
 1789, at the vices and corraption of the Church, 
 and the facility with which, in the ver}' com- 
 mencement of the Revolution, their property was 
 sacrificed to relieve the embarrassments of the 
 finances.* 
 
 V. Insult is more keenly resented than injur}'. 
 Privileges The pride of nobility is more ditticult 
 of the no- to tolerate than all the exclusive advan- 
 ces, tages which they possess. " Numer- 
 ous and serious as the grievances of the French 
 nation were," says the ablest of the royalist 
 writers, " it was not they that occasioned the 
 Revolution. Neither the taxes, nor the lettres 
 de cachet, nor the other abuses of authority, nor 
 the vexations of the prefets, nor the ruinous de- 
 lays of justice, have irritated the nation; it is 
 the prestige of nobility which has excited all the 
 ferment : a fact which proves that it was the shop- 
 keepers, the men of letters, the moneyed interest, 
 in fine, all those who were jealous of the nobili- 
 ty, who roused against them the lower classes in 
 the towns, and the peasantry in the country. In 
 truth, it is an extraordinary circumstance, that 
 the nation should say to a child possessed of 
 parchment, ' You sliall one day be either a 
 prelate, a marshal, or an ambassador, as you 
 choose,' while it has nothing to offer to its other 
 children." In fact, the men of talent and the 
 men of fortune found this distinction so insup- 
 portable, that they invariably purchased a patent 
 of nobility when they had the means of doing so ; 
 but from this arose a new difiiculty, and fresh 
 dangers to the monarchy. The wealth which 
 purchased titles could not confer eminence; it 
 could not give historic names, or remove the 
 stain of ignoble birth. Hence the distinction 
 between the old families and those newly enno- 
 bled, and a division in the aristocracy, which 
 prevented them from ever adopting any common 
 measures for their safety. The "great families 
 were more jealous of the paj-venns than of the 
 inferior classes of the people.t From the last 
 they anticipated no danger; the fir.-*, were placed 
 in a situation approaching too closely to their 
 exclusive domain. 
 
 The distinction of nobility and baseboin was 
 carried to a length in France, of which it is dif- 
 ficult, in this free country, to fonn a conception. 
 Every person was either noble or rolurier; no 
 middling class, no shades of distinction were 
 known. On the one side were 150,000 privi- 
 leged individuals ; on the other, the whole body 
 of the French people. All situations of impor- 
 tance in the Church, the army, the court, the 
 bench, or the diplomatic line, were exclusively 
 enjoyed by the former of these classes. In a 
 flourishing and prosperous country, such a sys- 
 
 of the whole land of France.* The nobles and the clergy 
 possessed two thirds of the whole estates of the kinadoni ; 
 and the other thir.i was in the hands of the Tit-rs Etat, 
 upon whom fell the greater proportion of the Imrdensof the 
 etate.t * Rivarol. 93. De Sta.-l, i., 13. 
 
 t Rivarol, 93, 91. De Slarl, i., 44, 198. 
 
 » Chateaubriand, Eludes, His ., lii., 2H. t Thiers, i., 34. 
 
 tem is of itself sufficient to produce a revolu- 
 tion. Men of fortune will not long submit to 
 the insolence of aristocratic pride ; men of talent, 
 in the end, will scorn the trammels of patronage 
 and the condescension of fashion. When a 
 public has arisen, and the means of arriving at 
 distinction, independent of the support of the no- 
 bility, exist, talent will generally incline in a 
 countrj'- so situated to the side, whatever it is, 
 which is opposed to the government. This ten- 
 dency may be observed in all free countries, and 
 in none more than the recent histoiy of England. 
 It is provided for in the independence of thought 
 which is the general accompaniment of real tal- 
 ent, and is the counterpoise provided by nature 
 to the influence of government, which might 
 otherwise prove overwhelming. This change, 
 accordingly, had taken place in France before 
 the Revolution. The industrious classes, the 
 men of talent, the men of wealth, were unani- 
 mous in their hatred of the nobility; the univer- 
 sal ciy was for Liberty and Equality — an ex- 
 clamation almost unknown in the English Re- 
 bellion. Equality of rank, abolition of privi- 
 leges, equal eligibility for office, were the uni- 
 versal passion of the nation, because they were 
 the pressing evils which had excited the discon- 
 tents, and thwarted the vanity which has always, 
 by their own admission, been the leading feature 
 of the French character. The insurrection was 
 less against the throne than against the nobility; 
 against the oppressive weight of feudal tyranny, 
 inconsistent with the spirit of the age, and be- 
 queathed by the power of barbarian conquest.* 
 
 VI. The taxation of France aflbrded a prac- 
 tical grievance of the most serious 
 kind, rendered yet more galling by the ^="^»''°"- 
 inequality with which it was imposed. The two 
 privileged orders, of the nobles and the clergy, 
 were exempted from several of the most op- 
 pressive imposts : a privilege grounded on the 
 feudal fiction, that the former defended the state 
 by their swords, while the latter interceded for it 
 by their prayers. Such a reason was peculiarly 
 untenable, after a long period of peace, during 
 which the nobility were exclusively occupied in 
 the frivolities of the court; and many of the 
 higher clergy suspected, with too much reason, 
 of sharing in its vices. The actual addition 
 which the exemption of so large a proportion of 
 the most opulent classes made to the burdens of 
 the people, though by no means inconsiderable, 
 was the least part of the evil ; the bitterness lay 
 in the sense of its injustice. t 
 
 But much misrepresentation has taken place 
 on this subject, and the freedom from taxation 
 by the privileged orders been generally described 
 as much more extensive than it really was. 
 They certainly did not contribute equally with 
 each other or with tlie conmions, but they both 
 paid largely to the public service ; neither the no- 
 bility nor clergy enjoyed any exem.ption from any 
 of the indirect impositions which in France, as 
 in other countries, constituted so large a propor- 
 tion of the public revenue. The nobility paid 
 the capitation tax and the twentieth penny or 
 vingtieme, which, together, sometimes amounted 
 to four shillings in the pound. The clergy in 
 the provinces annexed by conquest 1o France, 
 comprehending about an eighth of the territory 
 and a sixth of the wealth of the kingdom, also 
 paid the capitation and the vingtieme; and al- 
 
 * Thie:s,i.,3J,35 Nap. m D'Abr., vii . 169. Rivarol,?. 
 t Moiiihioii, Chaiicelliir to Count d"Arto s, J54. De 
 Stutl, i., 150. Thiers, I., 34. 
 
Chap. U.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 53 
 
 though the clergy- in the old provinces did not 
 pay the capitation, this was because they had 
 redeemed it for payment of 34.000,000 of livres, 
 or XI, 000,000 sterling: they did not paytheving- 
 tieme', but they, in return," made free gifts, and 
 were subject to other charges, which amounted 
 to nearly as much as their proportion of what 
 was paid by the other orders. The real ground 
 of complaint, and it was a most substantial one, 
 was the exemption of both the privileged orders 
 from the taille: a direct burden on the produce 
 of the land, of the most odious and impolitic 
 kind, and the weight of which, being borne ex- 
 clusively by the Tiers Elat, led to the general im- 
 pression that the privileged orders were entirely 
 freed from taxation of any sort.* 
 
 The taxes of France were not only hea'.y, but 
 unequally distributed even upon the classes who 
 bore them, and in an especial manner oppress- 
 ive to the cultivators of the soil. The taille and 
 the vingtieme imposts, exclusively affecting 
 agricultural labour, and following its profits, 
 with other smaller burdens, amounted to no 
 less than 171,000,000 of francs, or i;7,505,000 
 sterling, a sum at least equivalent to ^£15,000,000 
 on the land of England. So excessive was the 
 burden which this created on agricultural la- 
 bour, that it has been calculated, by a verj^ com- 
 petent observer, that, supposing the produce of 
 an acre worth X3 2s. Id., the proportion which 
 went to the king was £\ I8.s. 4</. ; to the land- 
 lord, I8s. ; to the actual cultivator, 5,s. ; or, if the 
 proprietor cultivated his own land, his share 
 was only £1 4s. 3rf., while that of the king was 
 £1 18s. id. In other words, if the produce of 
 an acre had been divided into twelve parts, 
 nearly seven and a half went to the king, three 
 and a half to the proprietor, and one to the 
 farmer; whereas, in England, at the same pe- 
 riod, if the produce of an acre were .£8, the land- 
 tax and poors' rates would be 10s., the rent £\ lOs., 
 and the share of the cultivator x'6, being three 
 fourths of the produce, instead of one twelfth, as 
 under the French monarchy. Nearly one third 
 of France, at this period, was in the hands of 
 small proprietors, upon whom these taxes fell 
 with unusual severity.t 
 
 The taxes on consumption amounted to 
 260,000,000 francs, or i;i0,400,000, and the total 
 revenue to 469,000,000 francs, or i;i8,750,000; 
 but this immense burden was imposed without 
 any regard to equality in different provinces. 
 Some had obtained commutations unreasonably 
 favourable to themselves; others, from having 
 evinced a refractoiy spirit, had been sadtiled 
 with more than a just proportion of the public 
 burdens. Those who had obtained no commu- 
 tation were liable to a progressive and most 
 vexatious increase of their imposts. The fixing 
 of these burdens was in the hands of the intend- 
 antsof the provinces, from whose decision there 
 was, practically speaking, no appeal, and who 
 frequently exercised their powers in an arbi- 
 traiy manner.^ Royal commissions had been 
 established to take cognizance of questions re- 
 garding the revenues, of which the decision 
 properly belonged to the ordinary tribunals; 
 several contributions were judged of by the king 
 
 * Burke's Considerations, Works, v., 222, 223. Due de 
 Gaeta, ii., 311. 
 
 t Arthur Young-, i., 332, 574, 575. Rap. du Comite de 
 rimposit. Pieces Just., No. 1. Marshall's Travels, iv., 332, 
 333. 
 
 1 Monthion, 153. Th., i., 34. De StaJl, i., 152. Young-, 
 i., 575, 576, 598. 
 
 in council: a species of judicature in which 
 justice was not likely to be obtained. 
 
 VII. When the weight of the taxes under 
 which they groaned is considered, it state of the 
 will not appear surprising that the cul- labouring 
 tivators of I'^rance were in the most poo''- 
 miserable state. Mr. Young calculated, in 
 1789, that the rural labourer in France, taking 
 into view the price of provisions, was 76 per 
 cent, poorer than in England ; that is, he had 76 
 per cent. less of the necessaries and convenien- 
 ces of life than fell to the lot of a similar class 
 in this country; and rural labour being 76 per 
 cent, cheaper in France than England, it follows 
 that all those classes which depend on that la- 
 bour, and are the most numerous in society, 
 were, in a similar proportion, less at their ease, 
 worse fed, worse lodged, worse clothed, than 
 their brethren on this side of the Channel. With 
 a verj' few exceptions, accordingly, the peasant- 
 ry were in the most indigent condition; their 
 houses dark, comfortless, and almost destitute of 
 furniture ; their dress ragged and miserable ; 
 their food the coarsest and most humble fare. 
 " It reminded me," says Mr. Young, " of the 
 miseries of Ireland !" iN'or was the condition of 
 the people more comfortable in those extensive 
 districts of the country where smaller properties 
 existed; on the contrary, they were uniformly 
 distinguished by the most numerous and squalid 
 population. Nor is that surprising; nothing 
 can conduce so much to a redundant population 
 as a minute division of landed properly and an 
 oppressive government ; the means of subsist- 
 ence, without the means of enjoyment; scope to 
 the principle of increase, without any develop- 
 ment of its limitations.* 
 
 VIII. In addition to an indigent peasantry, 
 France was cursed with its usual at- 
 tendant, a non-resident body of land- ^"""J^^"* 
 
 1 ' • . mi. • -1 /■ proprietors. 
 
 ed proprietors. This was an evil oi 
 the very first magnitude, drawing after it, as is 
 invariably the case, a discontented tenantry and 
 a neglected country. The great proprietors all 
 resorted to Paris in quest of amusement, of dis- 
 sipation, or of advancement; and, with the ex- 
 ception of La Vendee, where a totally different 
 system of manners prevailed, the country was 
 hardly ever visited by its landlords. The nat- 
 ural consequence of this was, that no kindly 
 feelings, no common interest, united the land- 
 lord and his tenantrj-. The former regarded the 
 cultivators in no other light than as beasts of 
 l)urden, from whose labour the greatest propor- 
 tion of profit was to be extracted; the latter con- 
 sidered their lords as tyrants, known only by the 
 vexatious visits and endless demands of their 
 bailiffs. From being neglected by their natural 
 guardians, and experiencing no benefits or en- 
 couragement from them, the labouring classes 
 everywhere imbibed a sour and discontented 
 spirit, a)id were ready to join any incendiaries 
 who promised them the pillage of their chateaux 
 or the division of their estates. Nor was this 
 all: all those useful and beneficial undertakings, 
 so common in England, which unite together 
 the landed aristocracy and their tenantry, by the 
 benefit they confer upon the estates of the for- 
 mer, and the employm.ent they afibrd to the in- 
 dustry of the latter, were unknown in France. 
 No improvements in agriculture, no advances 
 of capital, were made by the proprietors of the 
 soil ; roads, harbours, canals, and bridges were 
 
 Young, i., 98, 148, 413, 447. Marshall, i., 232 ; iv., 101. 
 
54 
 
 HISTOPtY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap IL 
 
 undertaken and managed exclasively by the gov- 
 ernment; and llie iiitlucnce naturally arising 
 from the emplo^'ment of industry and the ex- 
 penditure of capital Avas -wholl)^ lost to the 
 French noblesse. In La Vendee alone, the land- 
 lords lived in pristine simplicity, consuming, in 
 nistic profusion, the produce of their estates 
 upon their owti lands ; and in La Vendee alone 
 the tenantr)' supported them in the hour of trial, 
 and waged'a doubtful and glorious war with the 
 Republican forces.* 
 
 IX. The local burdens and legal services 
 due by the tenantn- to their feudal su- 
 Feudalser- pgriors were to the last degree vexa- 
 tious and oppressive. The peasantry 
 in France were almost all ignorant ; not one in 
 fifty could read ; and in each province they were 
 unaware of what was passing in the neighbour- 
 ing one. At the distance of titty miles from 
 Paris, they Avere unacquainted with what wa.s 
 going forward during the most interesting era 
 of the Revolution. They rose at the instigation 
 of the demagogues in the neighbouring towns to 
 biu-n the chateaux of their landlords, but never 
 carried their ideas beyond the little circle of their 
 immediate observation. t No public meetings 
 were held, no periodical press was within their 
 reach to spread the flame of discontent; yet the 
 spirit of resistance was universal from Calais to 
 Bayonne. This aflbrds decisive evidence of the 
 ■existence of a serious mass of oppression or nu- 
 merous local grievances, capable of producing 
 discontent so general, and hatred so implacable. 
 The feudal rights of the landed proprietors stood 
 foremost in this list of grievances. The most 
 important operations of agriculture were fettered 
 or prevented by the ?ame-laws, and the restric- 
 tions intendedfor their support. Game of the 
 most destructive kind, such as wild boars and 
 herds of deer, were permitted to go at large, 
 through large districts called Capitanerles, with- 
 out any enclosures to protect the crops. The 
 damage they did to the farmers, in four parishes 
 of Montceau only, amounted to 181,000 francs, 
 or nearly i:BOOO a year.; Numerous edicts ex- 
 isted, which prohibited hoeing and weeding, lest 
 the young partridges should be destroyed ; mow- 
 ing "hay, lest the eggs should be destroyed; ta- 
 king away the stubble, lest the birds should be de- 
 prived of shelter; manuring with night soil, lest 
 their flavour should be injured.§ Complaints 
 for the infraction of these edicts were all canied 
 before the manorial courts, where every species 
 of oppression, chicanery, and fraud were preva- 
 lent.ll Nothing can exceed the force of expres- 
 sion used in the cahiers of the jirovincial bodies, 
 in describing the severity of these feudal ser- 
 vices. Fines M'ere imposed at every change of 
 property in the direct and collateral line ; at ev- 
 ery sale, to purchasers ; the people were bound 
 to grind their com at the landlord's mill, press 
 their grapes at his press, and bake their bread at 
 his oven.li Corvees, or obligations to repair the 
 roads, foimded on custom, decrees, and servi- 
 tude, were enforced with the most rigorous se- 
 verity ;** in many places the use even of hand- 
 mills was not free, and the seigneurs were in- 
 vested with the power of selling to the peasants 
 the right of bruising buckwheat or barley be- 
 
 * Barante. in Madame de la Rochejaquelein, p. 45, 46. 
 Scott's Napoleon, i.,31. Youn», i., 598. 
 t Young, i., 5S. Mai-shall, iv., 68. 
 
 % Cahir du Tiers Etat de Manx, 49. ^ Young, i., 600. 
 H Cahiers Rennes, art. 12. Nivemois, art. 43. 
 IT Young, i., 601. *' Tiers Etat, Rennes, 159. 
 
 tween two stones.* It is vam to attempt a de- 
 scription of the feudal sendees which pressed 
 with so much severity upon industry in every 
 part of France. Their names caimot find par- 
 allel words in the English language.t Long be- 
 fore the Revolution broke out, complaints were 
 loudly heard over the whole countrj' of the bane- 
 ful tendency of these feudal exactions. They 
 became better understood by the higher classes 
 as it advanced, from the clamour which was 
 raised by the nobilitj' at their abolition. 
 
 The Corv^i's, or burdens imposed for the main- 
 tenance of the highways, annually ruined vast 
 numbers of the farmers." In filling up one valley 
 in Lorraine, no less than three hundred were re- 
 duced to beggarv.i The enrolments for the mi- 
 litia were also the subject of grievous complaint, 
 and styled in the cahiers '• an injustice without 
 example's But the people soon found that they 
 had made a grievous exchange in substituting 
 for it the terrible conscription of Napoleon. 
 
 Indeed, although these services were numer- 
 ous and ^.-exatious, the\' did not constitute so 
 considerable a grievance as the indignant feel- 
 ings of the French provincial A^-riters would lead 
 us to imagine. " The people of Scotland,"' says 
 Sir Walter Scott, '• were in former times sub- 
 ject to numerous seniccs which are now sum- 
 med up in the emphatic word rent ;" and this, in 
 truth, was equally the case with the French ten- 
 antry. Their general condition was that of Mc- 
 tai/ers ; that is, they received their implements 
 and stock from their landlords, and divided with 
 him the gross produce, after the tax-gatherer was 
 satisfied. The numerous feudal services were 
 just a payment of rent in kind; a species of li- 
 quidation imivcrsal and unavoidable in all rural 
 districts in a certain stage of civilization, when 
 a ready market for agricultural produce is, from 
 the absence of great towns, or the want of inter- 
 nal communication, not to be found. The peo- 
 ple expected, when feudal services and tithes 
 were abolished during the Revolution, that their 
 amount would form a clear addition to their 
 gains ; but they soon found that they only aug- 
 mented the rent of their landlords, and that their 
 own condition was in no degree ameliorated. 
 Without doubt, the multitude of demands on the 
 I'rench tenantiy was often in the highest degree 
 vexatious ; but it may be doubted whether their 
 weight has been alleviated by their condensation 
 into a single payment, and whether the terrors 
 of the words Rent and Taxk.s do not now equal 
 those of the whole catalogue of feudal obliga- 
 tions. li 
 
 X. The administration of justice, as in all 
 countries where public opinion has not its due 
 weight, or the judges are exempted from its con- 
 
 * Rennes, 57. 
 
 t We should be at a loss to know ■what was meant by 
 " Clievauches, Quintalncs Soule, Saut de Poison, Baiser 
 de Manes, Chansons, Transports d'Oeof sur Charette, Si- 
 lence de Grenouilles, Corvee a .Misericorde, Melods, Lesde, 
 Couponage, Cartilage, Barage, Fouage, Marechassee, Ban 
 Veu, Ban d'Aout, Trousses, Gilinage, Civirage, Taillabiliti' 
 Vinglaine, Stertage, Bordelage, Meringe, Ban de Vendan- 
 ges. Droit d'Accept^,"* if the universal voice of the French 
 people, manifested in tlieir cahiers, or official instructions 
 to tlie deputies at the States-Gener.il from the electors, had 
 nut proclaimed that they signi'acd real and oppressive bur- 
 dens.t J Rennes, i., 598. 
 
 <) Nob. Briey, 6, 7. Young, ii., 598. 
 
 fl The land-tax in France is now twenty-five per cent, at 
 the very lowest, on the gross agricultural profits ; often 
 forty or fifty j>er rent, on the landowners' gains. — Sec vol. 
 iv., 736, and authorities there quoted. 
 
 • Kfsun.e in Cabicri, ilJ., 316, 317. 
 
 t Younj, i., 206. 
 
Chap. '' ] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 55 
 
 Administra- trol, Mas liable to many abuses in 
 tion of jus- France. In some places it -was par- 
 tice. tiai, venaj, ana mfamous. Fortune, 
 
 liberal presents, court favour, the smiles oi a 
 handsome ■wife, or promises of advancement to 
 relations, sometimes swayed the decisions of the 
 judges. This evil was felt in many parts of the 
 countr}'. The common opinion, though often 
 unfounded, was, that to obtain justice in any of 
 the provincial courts was out of the question. 
 Nor were the decisions of the Parliaments more 
 imsuUied. These numerous and public-spirited 
 bodies, notwithstanding their loud professions 
 of patriotism, were not always exempt from 
 corruption; and the diversity of their customs 
 introduced a degree of variance into their deter- 
 minations, which rendered all attempt at uni- 
 formity impracticable.* But although, like the 
 'Other institutions of the monarchy, the provincial 
 Parliaments stood much in need of amendment, 
 yet they had several particulars in their constitu- 
 tion deserving of the highest approbation, and 
 which had rendered them the cradles of freedom 
 during the corruptions and oppression of pre- 
 ceding reigns. They possessed one fundamental 
 excellence, they were independent. The most 
 xloubtful circumstance connected with their mode 
 ■of appointment, that of its being purchased, con- 
 tributed to this independence of character. They 
 held for life — indeed, many may be said to have 
 held by inheritance. Though appointed by the 
 monarch, they were nearly out of his power. 
 The more determined the exertions of that au- 
 thority against them became, the more their spirit 
 of freedom and independence became manifest. 
 They composed permanent bodies politic, and 
 from that corporate and lasting constitution were 
 ■well calculated to at^brd both certainty and sta- 
 bility to the laws. They had been a safe asylum 
 to these laws in all the revolutions of opinion and 
 all the frowns of power. They had saved that 
 sacred deposite of the countr}' during the reigns 
 of arbitrar)' princes and the struggles of arbitrary 
 factions. They were the great safeguard to pri- 
 ■vate property : their decisions, though vaiying 
 "With the customs of the different provinces, were, 
 generally speaking, honest and upright : they had 
 furnished no inconsiderable corrective to the 
 vices and excesses of the monarchy. The in- 
 dependent spirit which terminated in the Revo- 
 lution began in the free and courageous conduct 
 of their assemblies during a contest of nearly 
 ■half a century with the ordinances of the crown; 
 and it is one of the strongest proofs of the in- 
 sanity which ultimately got possession of the 
 public mind,t that one" of the first acts of the 
 democratic party, upon attaining supreme au- 
 thorit}', was to sweep away these venerable bul- 
 ■"warks by which they had so long been sheltered 
 from the invasion of despotic power. 
 
 XI. The royal prerogative, by a series of suc- 
 r, , cessful usurpations, had reached a 
 
 Roval pre- i • , ^ . • . . -.l .u • i-i 
 
 rogative. height inconsistent with anything like 
 real freedom. The most important 
 right ofa citizen, that of deliberating on the pass- 
 ing of laws and the granting of supplies, had 
 fallen into desuetude. For nearly two centuries, 
 the kings, of their own authoritvi had published 
 ordinaiKf.s possessing all the authority of laws, 
 and which originally could not be sanctioned but 
 by the representatives of the people. The right 
 of approving or registering, as it was called, these 
 
 ordinances, was transferred to the Parliaments 
 and courts of justice ; but their deliberations 
 were liable to be suspended by tits dr. justice, or 
 personal interventions of the sovereign, and 'in- 
 fringed by arbitrarv imprisonments. The regu- 
 lations which could legally be made only oy me 
 king in council, were frequently adopted without 
 the intervention of that body ; and so usual had 
 this abuse become, that in many branches of gov- 
 ernment it was habitual. Taxes were imposed 
 without the consent of the nation or of its repre- 
 sentatives ; those originally laid on by legal au- 
 thority continued after the stipulated period of 
 their endurance had ceased, or were augmented 
 far beyond the amount agreed to by the people. 
 Criminal commissions, composed of persons 
 nominated solely by the crown, were frequently 
 appointed, and rendered both personal liberty 
 and real property insecure. Warrants of im- 
 prisonment, without either accusation or trial, 
 might deprive any subjects of their freedom, and 
 consign them to a dungeon for the remainder of 
 their lives. Debts to an enormous amount, and 
 of which the annual charge absorbed more than 
 half the revenue of the state, had been contracted 
 without national authority, or increased without 
 its knowledge. The public creditors, kept in 
 the dark as to the state of the finances, or of the 
 security which existed for their payment, were 
 daily becoming more apprehensive of the ulti- 
 mate solvency of the stale. The personal ex- 
 penses of kings had risen under the reigns of 
 Louis XIV. and XV. to a very great height, and 
 they were not distinguished "from the ordinary 
 expenditure of government except in a secret 
 record, no part of which was divulged to the peo- 
 ple. Tlie salaries of all the civil servants of the 
 crown, and of the higher officers in the army, 
 were deemed excessive ; while the duties of their 
 several offices were either neglected or performed 
 by deputy.* 
 
 XII. Corruption, in its Avorst fomi, had long 
 tainted the manners of the court as 
 well as the nobility, and poisoned the at°court""^ 
 sources of influence. The favour of ** 
 royal mistresses, or the intrigues of the court, 
 openly disposed of the highest appointments both 
 in the army, the Church, and the civil service. 
 Since the reign of the Roman emperors, prof- 
 ligacy had never been conducted in so open and 
 undisguised a manner as under Louis XV. and 
 the regent Orleans. From the secret memoirs 
 of the period, which have now been published, it 
 is manifest that the licentious novels which at 
 that time disgraced French literature conveyed 
 a faithful picture of the manners of the age ; that 
 the scenes in Faublas, the Liaisons Dangereuses, 
 and Crebillon, are by no means overcharged. 
 Favourites of women of rank, selected often 
 from the middling classes of society, were re- 
 warded for their fidelity by a place in the Bastile, 
 at the instance of their treacherous paramours.t 
 
 The reign of Louis XV. is the most deplora- 
 ble in French historj-. If ■we seek for the char- 
 acters who governed the age, we must search 
 
 * Monthion, 154. Thiers, i., 35. Young, i., 598, 602. 
 .t £ucke's Considerations, 'Works, vi., 367. 
 
 * De Stael, i., 130, 153. Monthion, 153, 154. Th., i., 
 154. Etat de la Dette, 1790, 6. 
 
 t Such was the dissolution of the manners of the court, 
 that no less than 500,000,000 francs of the public debt, or 
 £20,000,000 sterling^, had been incurred for expenses too 
 ignominious to bear the light, or be even named in the 
 public accounts; and the amount of expenditure of this 
 descnption was ten times greater in the time of Louis XV. 
 than It had been in that of Louis XIV.* 
 
 * Du Birri's Memoirs, i. and ii. Lab., Hist de ia Rev., i., 231. Sou- 
 lavie, i., 715. 
 
56 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. II. 
 
 the antechambers of the Due de Choiseul, cr 
 the boudoirs of Madame Pompadour or Du Bar- 
 ri. The whole frame of society seemed to be 
 decomposed. Statesmen were nmljitious to fig- 
 ure as men of letters ; men of letters as states- 
 men; the great seigneurs as bankers; the far- 
 mers-general as great seigneurs. The fashions 
 were as ridiculous as the a.iis were misplaced. 
 Sheperdesses were represented in hoops in sa- 
 loons, where colonels were engaged in feminine 
 pursuits ; everything was deranged in the public 
 feeling and manners, the sure sign of an ap- 
 proaching convulsion. Society had reached 
 that puerile stage which appeared in Rome at 
 the time of the Gothic invasion, and in Con- 
 stantinople under the Byzantian emperors; in- 
 stead of making verses in cloisters, they made 
 them in drawing-rooms : a happy epigram ren- 
 dered a general more illustrious than a victoiy 
 gained.* 
 
 It was the peculiarity of that age, that man- 
 ners had assumed this frivolous and corrupt 
 tone in the higher, at the same time that nobler 
 and more generous sentiments had, from the 
 progress of knowledge and the spread of civili- 
 zation, sprung up in the middling ranks. Ma- 
 dame Roland, a citizen's daughter, has given a 
 graphic picture of the horror with which the ri- 
 sing ambition and conscious talent of the mid- 
 dling ranks regarded the frivolity and vices of 
 their hereditary rulers. "It excited my early 
 astonishment," says she, '• that such a state of 
 things did not occasion the immediate tall of the 
 empire, or provoke the avenging wrath of Heav- 
 en."t 
 
 The effects of this general dissolution of prin- 
 ciples appeared in the strongest manner, both in 
 the habits of the people and in the literature of 
 the age. From thence has flowed that stream 
 of depraA'ity and licentiousness which has so 
 long been peculiarly and characteristically the 
 disgrace of French literature; and from "these 
 examples has followed that universal license of 
 manners, which has now descended with the gen- 
 eral growth of irreligion so far, that the illegiti- 
 mate births in Paris will apparently soon be 
 equal to the legitimate, and already everj- third 
 child to be seeii in the .streets is a bastard.;§ 
 
 XIII. Embarrassment in the finances was the 
 Embarrass- immediate cause of the Revolution, 
 ment of It compelled the king to summon the 
 finances. States-General as the only means of 
 avoiding national bankruptcy. Previous minis- 
 ters had tried temporary expedients, and every 
 effort had been made to avert the disaster ; but 
 the increasing expenses arising from the weight 
 of the annual charge of the debt rendered them 
 all abortive. li 
 
 The annual deficit was nearly 189,000,000 
 francs, or above seven millions sterling. No 
 
 ♦ Chateaubriand, Etud. Hist., i., 118, Preface, 
 t Roland, Mem.. 112. 
 
 t Hupin, Force Commercial, vol. i., 09. Koland, Mem., 
 i., 112. 
 
 ^ In 1824, out of 28,812 births, 18,591 only were the re- 
 sult iif ninrria^e ; 9221 were illegitimate.* The proportion 
 of illegimate hirlhs is now greater. In 1831, the legitimate 
 births were 19,152; the illegitimate 10,378. — Ann. du Bu- 
 reau lies Ijons;. 
 
 II The r.venue f.ir the year 1789 amounted to 469,938,245 
 francs, ni £18,800,000 ; the debt to 6,500,000,000 frjnrs, or 
 X"244,000,000 stf-rlinic ; aii'l its annual charge to 259,000,000 
 francs, or £10,400,000 sterlint;.t The annual expenses at 
 this period amounted to 400,000,000 fr.mcs, or £10,000,000, 
 exclusive of the charges of the debt ;t so that, while the 
 
 • Diipin. i.. 99 
 
 t V.w .le li Dfltr Pul.liqup. Wv. p. S. Touil'. i.. S"6, i77, 5'8, 379. 
 t N«kAr de fAdmini.tri^i.D drt Finmrrn. lac. vi.. 110. 
 
 provision whatever was made for the liquidation 
 or reduction of the debt. It is true, a large pro- 
 portion of the public burdens was for life annui- 
 ties ; but still the exhausted state of the treasury 
 made some extraordinaiy measures necessary to 
 satisfy even their passing demands. No other 
 measure appeared practicable but the convoca- 
 tion of the States-General, from whom some re- 
 lief, by the appropriation of part of the Church 
 property, was expected by all parties ; and the 
 immediate cause of the Revolution was thus the 
 improvidence and waste of preceding reigns.* 
 
 XIV. While the minds of the people were in 
 a state of ferment, arising from the con- 
 currence of so many causes of dissat- Americau 
 isfaction, the imprudent policy of the 
 French government in engaging in the Ameri- 
 can War, lighted a spark which speedily set the 
 train on fire. From jealousy of the English 
 power, and a desire to increase the difficulties 
 of that country in the contest with her colonies, 
 Louis XVI. took the dangerous step of aiding 
 the insurgents. The consequence was, that the 
 French soldiei-s, who Avere sent over to support 
 the cause of transatlantic freedom, imbibed the 
 intoxicating ideas of patriotic resistance ; lan- 
 guage unknown in their own country grew fa- 
 miliar to their ears; from being parties in a strife 
 in wiiich the authority of legitimate government 
 was resisted, they became zealous in the cause of 
 independence ; from proving victorious in a con- 
 test in which royal power Avas overthrovrn, they 
 easily passed over to the admiration of repub- 
 lican institutions. The success of the Ameri- 
 cans shook the foundations of despotism in the 
 Old W^orld, and the throne of Louis tottered from 
 his eflbrts to overthrow that of the English mon- 
 arch. Not that the French king contemplated 
 any such change, or was even convinced of the 
 expedience of engaging in the contest. On the 
 contrary, his secret correspondence proves that, 
 when he gave orders for the commencement of 
 
 annual expenses were 400,000,000 fis. or £16,000,000 
 
 Interest of debt 259,000,000 or 10,400,000 
 
 6.59,000,000 
 WTiile the ann'l income was 470,000,000 
 
 £26,400,000 
 or 18,800,000 
 
 Annual deficit 189,000,000 or £7,600,000 
 
 The following table will exhibit the steady- progress of the 
 deficit under the various administrations which preceded tho 
 llcvolution : 
 
 1764 — Neckau, Mini^'tcr. 
 
 Income 236,833.000 frs. or £9,300,000 
 
 Expenditure 2S3, 162,000 or 11,600,000 
 
 Deficit 46,329,000 or £2,300,000 
 
 1786— Calonne, Minister. 
 
 Income 474,047,649 frs. or £18,800,000 
 
 Expenditure 589.184,995 or 23.600,000 
 
 Deficit 115,137,346 or £4,800,000 
 
 1787 — CaloN'NE. ^finister. 
 
 Income 474,048,239 frs. or £19,000,000 
 
 Expenditure 599,135,795 or 24,000,000 
 
 Deficit 125,087,556 or £5,000,000 
 
 1768— BiilE.NNE, Minister. 
 
 Income 472,415,549 frs. or £17,200,000 
 
 Expenditure 527,255,089 or 21,100,000 
 
 Deficit, Ordinary, .... 
 Extraordinary, Deficit. 
 
 .54,639..540 
 76,502,367 
 29,293,565 
 
 2,200,000 
 2,900,000 
 1,000,000 
 
 Total 160,63.5,492 or £6,100,000 
 
 .See Comptes Rendus peer Calonne ct Xcckar, 1781, 1787, and 
 1788, 2 vols. 4to. 
 
 * Nc'kar, de r.\dministrationdes Finances, p. 87. Mig., 
 1,13.23. Th.. i., 22. Lac. vi.. 110. 
 
Chap. II.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 57 
 
 the war, he yielded against his better judgment 
 to a passion in the public mind which appeared 
 to him at least irresistible.* 
 
 The early leaders of the Revolution, accord- 
 ingly, were men who had signalized themselves 
 in the cause of American independence. The 
 Marquis La Fayette, and many other young 
 noblemen of talent and consideration, returned 
 from the other side of the Atlantic with a warm 
 admiration of republican institutions, and an ar- 
 dent desire to hold them up to the imitation of 
 their countrymen. The friends of liberty were 
 roused by the triumph of independence in the 
 ISew World, and the tiame rapidly spread among 
 an enthusiastic people, who had so many more 
 real causes of complaint than the patriots whose 
 success was the subject of their exultation. t 
 
 XV. While so many causes were preparing 
 German dis- the approach of a political convul- 
 cipline in sion, the injudicious measures of the 
 army. government alienated the aflection of 
 the Army, and exposed them to the influence of 
 the same causes which had shaken the allegiance 
 of the other classes in the state. The abuses in 
 the distribution of the pay and furnishings of the 
 troops were so excessive, that the sums expend- 
 ed on the officers were as large as those on the 
 private soldiers ; while the impolitic introduc- 
 tion of the German discipline, with its useless 
 fonnalities and severe punishments, excited the 
 loudest complaints among the lower ranks of the 
 ai'my. These regulations awakened such pro- 
 found indignation among the F'rench soldiers, 
 that they wept with grief at beholding their com- 
 rades punished by blows from the flat part of the 
 sabre. While the nobles were enthusiastic in 
 favour of English customs and American free- 
 dom, the officers of the army became extravagant 
 imitators of the Prussian discipline. It is difli- 
 cult to say which species of innovation proved 
 most prejudicial to France. An imprudent and 
 ill-timed regulation had been adopted in 1781, 
 that noble birth was essential to obtaining a com- 
 mission in the army : a hundred years of nobili- 
 ty was deemed a neccssarj- qualification to an 
 officer. This regulation irritated the Tiers Etat, 
 without securing the attachment of the army, and 
 was so contrary to the opinion of the age that it 
 could not be carried into execution. To com- 
 plete the misfortune, the French guards, from 
 being permanently stationed in Paris, and in con- 
 tinual intercourse with the most depraved class- 
 es of the capital, were not only in a state of in- 
 subordination, but influenced by all the feelings 
 and passions of the citizens ; and they according- 
 ly gave the first example of defection at the break- 
 ing out of the Revolution : a memorable instance 
 to succeeding ages of the peril of intrusting the 
 safety of the state to a body of troops, who, from 
 being constantly in communication with the 
 populace, become tainted by the contagion of 
 their passions ; and of preferring a well-dressed 
 body of corrupted guards to the ruder aspect of 
 faithful defenders.: 
 
 XVI. The circumstances which have now 
 Excessive been mentioned, without doubt con- 
 passsioii for tributed to the formation of that dis- 
 innovation. content which formed the piedisposing 
 
 * " How painful," said he, " to be oblig-ed, for reasons of 
 state, to sign orders and commence a great war, contrary 
 alike to my wishes and my opinions."— Corrci-n. Conf. de 
 Louis XVI., li., 178, 187 ; and Lab., n., 61. 
 
 t Lac., v., 341. I,ab., ii., 57. 
 
 t Mign., i.. 40, 118, 120. Th., i.. 89. Monthion, 154. 
 De StaSl, 1,123. 153. Segur, i., 119, 120, 271. Lab.,ii.,44. 
 Vol. I. — H 
 
 cause of the Revolution. But the exciting cause, 
 as physicians would say, the immediate source 
 of the convulsion, was the spirit of innovation, 
 which, like a malady, overspread France at that 
 crisis, precipitated all classes into a passion tor 
 changes, of which they were far from perceiving 
 the ultimate eflects, and in the end induced evils 
 far greater than those they were intended to re- 
 move. 
 
 There is no unmixed good in human affairs : 
 the best principles, if pushed to excess, degener- 
 ate into fatal vices. Generosity is nearly allied 
 to extravagance — charity itself may lead to ruia 
 — the sternness of justice is but one step removed 
 from the severity of oppression. It is the same 
 in the political world : the tranquillity of despo- 
 tism resembles the stagnation of the Dead Sea ; 
 the fever of innovation, the tempests of the ocean. 
 It v/oukl seem as if, at particular periods, Irom 
 causes inscrutable to human wisdom, a univer- 
 sal phrensy seizes mankind ; reason, experience, 
 prudence, are alike blinded ; and the very class- 
 es who are to perish in the storm are the first to 
 raise its fuiy. 
 
 France exhibited a striking proof of the truth 
 of this observation for a number of years prece- 
 ding the Revolution. During the reign of Louis 
 XV. no one thought of a convTilsion, though it 
 was rapidly approaching, and the most ardent in 
 the cause of innovation were those whose for- 
 tunes were about to perish from its eflects. The 
 young nobles applauded the writings of Raynal, 
 Voltaire, and Rousseau, and repeated all the ar- 
 guments against their exclusive privileges and 
 the leudal system, without ever suspecting that 
 they would be the first victims of such opinions. 
 Long before the Tiers Etat had adopted ttiem, the 
 seeds of liberty had spread widely among the 
 French noblesse ; but the approaches of the spirit 
 of innovation were so disguised under the col- 
 ours of philanthropy that none perceived its con- 
 sequences. " In truth," says Segur, " who could 
 have anticipated the terrible flood of passions 
 and crimes which was about to be let loose on 
 the world, at a time when all writings, all 
 thoughts, all actions seemed to have but one 
 end, the extirpation of abuses, the propagation 
 of virtue, the relief of the people, the establish- 
 ment of freedom 1 It is thus that the most terri- 
 ble convulsions are ushered into the world ; the 
 night is serene, the sunset fair, which precedes 
 the fur)' of the tornado."* 
 
 The passion for innovation increasing during 
 the latter years of tlie reign of Louis XV., be- 
 came iiTesistible under the succeeding monarch. 
 It seized all classes, embraced all subjects, over- 
 whelmed all under.standings. The extravagant 
 imitation of English customs and manners, call- 
 ed the AngloDiania, was more than a mere fool- 
 ery of fashion ; it was the eflbit of a disposition 
 disquieted and dissatisfied with itself, ^nd pro- 
 ceeded from a secret desire to imitate the free in- 
 stitutions of a country whose extravagances 
 were so much the object of admiration.! 
 
 But the American war was the great change 
 which blew into a flame the embers of innova- 
 tion. The admiration of England immediately 
 was transferred to its enemies; the ancient rival- 
 ry of Britain combined with the rising passion 
 for republican institutions ; it literally lorced the 
 government to take a part in the contest. Such 
 was the universal enthusiasm which seized upon. 
 
 * S6gur, i., 21, 38, 40, 76, 79, 94. Lab., i., 3. 
 t Segur, i., 24, 25, 268. Lab., ii., 3, 4. 
 
53 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IL 
 
 the nation at its commencement, that nobles of 
 the highest rank, princes, dukes, and marquises, 
 solicited, with impatient zeal, commissions in 
 the regiments destined to aid the insurgents. It 
 was hard to say whether the government, the no- 
 bles, or the commons were most zealous in their 
 support. Rousseau foresaw in this universal 
 passion the commencement of a new era in hu- 
 man afiairs, the era of revolutions, while the 
 governments of France, Spain, and Russia con- 
 sidered it only as the means of humbling the na- 
 X'al ascendency of England.* 
 
 The passion for republican institutions in- 
 creased with the successes of the American war, 
 and at length rose to such a height as to infect 
 even the courtiers of the palace. Thunders of 
 applause shook the theatre of Versailles at the 
 celebrated lines of Voltaire : 
 
 " Je suis fils dc Brutus, et je porte en mon cosur 
 La liberie grav6e et les rois en horreur." 
 
 It was easy to see, from the passion for re- 
 publican institutions which seized even upon 
 the highest classes, that the era of revolution 
 was not to be contused to the New World. The 
 philosophers of France used every method of 
 liattery to bring over the yomig nobles to their 
 side, and the profession of liberal opinions be- 
 came as indispensable a passport to the saloons 
 of fashion as to tlie favour of the people. Even 
 in foreign courts the same sentiments were rap- 
 idly gaining ground, from the extreme interest 
 taken in the American contest ; and Segur found 
 at St. Petersburg his decoration of the republi- 
 can order of Cincinnatus more an object of envy 
 than any which he had obtained from the Euro- 
 pean monarchs. Emperors, kings, and nobles 
 seemed at that period to have combined with a 
 view to establisti a new order of things, from the 
 extravagant eulogiums they pronounced on phi- 
 losophers and liberal opinions ; and it was only 
 after having themselves erected the fabric that 
 they strove to pull it down, forgetting that the 
 human mind, like time, is always advancing, 
 and never recedes. They were astonished when 
 they found that men had discernment enough to 
 apply to them the principles they had inculcated 
 in regard to others. La Fayette was hailed as a 
 hero, a divinity, so long as he supported the 
 cause of transatlantic inciependence, but he was 
 stigmatized as a rebel when he endeavoured to 
 maintain the same principles in support of Eu- 
 ropean freedom.t 
 
 So many causes of disaffection did not come 
 ,.g„ ._-g all at once into action; many of 
 ' •• ■ them had been long in operation. 
 The increasing intelligence and freer spirit of the 
 age successively made them the objects of popu- 
 lar complaint. During the whole reign of Louis 
 XV., the discontents of the people were gradu- 
 ally increasing, and it was already foreseen that 
 the reign of his successor would be one of anxiety 
 and trouble. '• I have had great dithculty," said 
 Louis XV., " in extricating myself from the 
 •quarrels with the parliaments during my whole 
 reign ; but let my grandson take care of them, 
 for it is more than probable they will endanger 
 his crown." In truth, during the latter part of 
 the eighteenth century, and particularly subse- 
 quent to the peace of i763, a growing discontent 
 ■constantly prevailed in the nation, headed, in 
 
 * Segur, i., 100, 149, 1S3. Lab., ii., 4, 5. 
 t Lab., ii., 2, 3. Segur, i., 189, 252, S.W ; ii., 46 ; lii., 
 38,50. 
 
 the first instance, by a portion of the noblesse, 
 who were impelJed by the force of public opinion 
 or dazzled by the desire of popular applause, and 
 augmented latterly by the numberless faults of 
 the government and the corrupt elleminacy of 
 the court.* 
 
 Of all the monarchs who ever sat upon the 
 French throne, Louis XVI. was the 
 one least calculated to provoke, and F^^'^^x'vi"^ 
 least htted to subdue, a revolution. 
 Firm in principle, pure in morals, humane in 
 feeling, beneticent in intention, he possessed all 
 the qualities calculated to adorn a pacific throne, 
 or which are amiable and estimable in private 
 life; but he had neither the genius to prevent 
 nor the firmness to resist a revolution. Many 
 of his qualities were calculated to have allayed 
 the public discontents, none to have stifled them. 
 The people were tired of the arbitrary powers 
 of their monarch, and he was disposed to aban- 
 don them ; they were provoked at the expensive 
 corruptions of the court, and he was both inno- 
 cent in his manners and unexpensive in his hab- 
 its ; they demanded reformation in the adminis- 
 tration of affairs, and he placed his chief glory 
 in yielding to the public voice. Such was his 
 anxiety to outstrip the general desire lor reforms, 
 that he caused a box to be placed at the gate of 
 his palace to receive suggestions from all per- 
 sons who might concur in the same views. But, 
 in accomplishing great changes in society, it is 
 not only necessaiy to concede to one party, but 
 to restrain their violence and control another; 
 and the difiicult task awaited the French mon- 
 arch of either compelling the nation to submit to 
 abuses, or the aristocracy to agree to innovation. 
 To accomplish either of these objects required 
 more fimmess and decision of character than he 
 possessed. Irresolution was his great defect; 
 and hence, in difficult periods, his conduct vacil- 
 lated between the nobility and the people, and 
 led both parties to abandon his interests: the 
 first, because they distrusted his constancy ; the 
 last, because they were doubtful of his sincerity. 
 His reign, from his accession to the throne dowTX 
 to the meeting of the States-General, was nothing 
 but a series of ameliorations, without calming 
 the public eflervescence ; of concessions which 
 only added to the ambition of the people. He 
 had the misfortune to wish sincerely for the pub- 
 lic good, without possessing the firmness requi- 
 site to secure it ; and with truth it may be said, 
 that reforms were more fatal to him than the 
 continuance of abuses would have been to ano- 
 ther sovereign.! 
 
 The choice which he made, on his accession 
 to the throne, of Maurepas for prime . 
 minister, was in everv point of view M!,',''f'!v! ° 
 
 .... , . -. ^ rni ■ 1 1 i'it»uie]>as. 
 
 prejudicial to his reign. This old 
 man, though not destitute of good qualities, was 
 in no respect adapted for the duties of a minister 
 in arduous times. He accustomed the king to 
 half measures and a system of temporization, 
 and contributed early to fi.x that character of ir- 
 resolution upon his proceedings which was too 
 much the delisct of his own disposition. Having 
 suffered a banishment of nearly twent}^ years 
 from court, in consequence of some satirical 
 verses on Madame de Pompadour, he returned 
 to power with no other principle but that of 
 maintaining his ascendency. I'rivolous in all 
 his ideas of government, he neither formed his 
 
 ♦ Be Staei, i., 43. 
 
 t Mig., i., 12, 13. Thiers, i., 6, 8. Lab., ii., 4, 5. 
 
1770-81.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 59 
 
 opinions of men by their conduct, nor of meas- 
 ures by tlieir iiiility, but of both by their ten- 
 dency to uphold his intiuence at court. His 
 ideas' were all half a century back ; he was an 
 old courtier of Versailles, but not a minister of 
 France. The king intrustetl him with the nomi- 
 nation of the ministry, and the choice which he 
 made was determined less by any fixed plan 
 than the exigencies or inclination of the mo- 
 ment.* 
 
 Turgot, Malesherbes, and Neckar were suc- 
 Of Turgot cessively called, at the king's desire, 
 Neckar, ' into the' administration, and intrusted 
 ;ind Mule- with the departments for which they 
 sherbes. ■v^•ere peculiarly qualified by their pre- 
 vious habits. The increasing weight of public 
 opinion rendered it evident that some refomis 
 were necessary, and these great men were se- 
 lected to give some degree of consistency to the 
 J)lans of amelioration. Malesherbes, descended 
 rom an eminent legal family, had inherited the 
 virtues without the prejudices of his ancestors. 
 His dispositions were as virtuous as his mind 
 was free ; oppression appeared to him as illegal 
 as it was impolitic. His first condition on en- 
 tering into the office of Minister of the Interior 
 was, that the king should engage to sign no 
 lettre dc cachet but what he presented to him. 
 He was a warm partisan of the liberty of the 
 press, eas\- of access, tolerant and retiring in his 
 habits, little qualified to shine at court, but emi- 
 nently to inspire wisdom into the cabinet. He 
 wished not to extend, but to restore the rights of 
 the nation ; to concede to the accused the liberty 
 of being defended by counsel; to the Protest- 
 ants, perfect freedom of conscience ; to all, per- 
 sonal freedom. With these views, he supported 
 the abolition of torture, the re-enactment of the 
 Edict of Nantes, the suppression of lettres de 
 cachet, and the removal of the censorship on the 
 press. Turgot, endowed with greater powers 
 and a firmer character, of whom Malesherbes 
 said, " He has the head of Bacon and the heart 
 of L'Hopital," aimed at still more extensive 
 reforms. Profoundly versed in political sci- 
 ence and everj' species of knowledge ; esteemed 
 equally for his great acquirements and his irre- 
 proachable manners ; ardent in the pursuit of 
 speculative improvement, and yet capable, as 
 his administration of the province of Limousin 
 demonstrated, of the most minute attention to 
 practical matters, he was better fitted than any 
 other man in existence, by salutan,- and cautious 
 reforms, to have prevented the Revolution. He 
 incessantly laboured to eflect that which the 
 Revolution ultimately completed, the suppres- 
 sion of every species of sen-itude and exclusive 
 Their pro- privilege. He proposed to free the la- 
 posed re- bours of the peasantr)' from the bur- 
 forms, (jgn of the corvee, internal communi- 
 cation from the barriers of the provinces, com- 
 merce from the duties of the interior; to subject 
 all classes alike to the burden of the public 
 taxes; accustom the people gradually, by the 
 means of provincial parliaments, to the rights 
 of freemen, and so prepare the way for the re- 
 establishment of the States-General.i 
 
 Neckar, a Genevese by birth and a banker bv 
 profession, w^as called to the administration of 
 the finances from his high credit and acknowl- 
 edged skill in money transactions. He was ap- 
 pointed to the ministrj' in order to exert his tal- 
 
 * Thiers's Odoardo, i., 23, 24. Lab., ii., 8, 9. Boissy 
 dlAnelas, ii., 37. 
 
 t Slig., I., 14. Lac, v., 25. Lab., ii., 14, 15, 27. 
 
 ents in procuring money for the court, and extri- 
 cating the finances fiom their embairassment; 
 but. being strongly attached to the principles of 
 freedom, he endeavoured to make the diliiculties 
 of the government the means of emancipating 
 the jieople. His system was to lace boldly the 
 public accounts, to make no secret to the world 
 of the excess of the expenditure above the re- 
 ceipts, and to reduce them ultimately to a level 
 by a rigid system of economy. He proposed to 
 meet the public exigencies in ordinar}- periods 
 by taxation, in extraordinaiy by loans ; to famil- 
 iarize the people to the fonner by obtaining the 
 consent ol the provincial parliaments," and gain 
 tliem over to the latter by giving perfect publici- 
 ty to the public accoinus. Thus both parts of 
 his system were favourable to the progress of 
 freedom ; the taxes by leading to the" States- 
 General, and the loans by compelling a publica- 
 tion of the accounts; the faiTner by establishing 
 a legal organ for popular influence, the latter by 
 opening a channel lor public opinion. His pri- 
 vate character was unexceptionable. Possessed 
 of immense wealth, he made a noble use of it; 
 liberal, without either pride or prodigality, he 
 would have been a perfect private citizen had it 
 not been for a vein of ostentation and a .secret 
 vanity, which afterward, by making him sacri- 
 fice everything to his love of popularity, brought 
 unheard-of disasters on the monarchy.* 
 
 But great as were the talents, sincere the in- 
 tentions, unbending the probity of these 
 eminent men, they were unable to car- [ii^^obles^ 
 IT into effect the reforms which they 
 so anxiously strove to introduce. So many of 
 the influential classes of society were interested 
 in the preservation of the abuses — so many of 
 the nobility exerted their influence to procure the 
 dismissal of ministers wlio proposed their aboli- 
 tion — the public voice was as yet so feebly heard 
 within the precincts of the palace, that the king 
 was unable to maintain them. Turgot had ex- 
 cited the jealousy of the courtiers by liis reforms, 
 of the parliaments by the abolition of the cor- 
 vees, of Maurepas by his ascendant over the 
 monarch. Beset on all sides, Louis, against hi^ 
 better judgment, abandoned that virtuous minis- 
 ter, obseiving, at the same time, that " Turgot, 
 and he alone, loved the people." Neckar shortly 
 alter experienced the same fate. His economi- 
 cal plans had excited alarm among the courtiers, 
 and the provincial assemblies had incurred the 
 jealousy of the parliaments, who wished to mo- 
 nopolize the consequence arising from resistance 
 to the court. Maurepas himself soon afterward 
 died, and the king, fatally for himself, fell tmder 
 the infiuence of ditlerent counsels.! 
 
 The queen, Marie Antoinette, supplied the 
 place of prime minister to the king. The queen, 
 and succeeded to all the ascendency Marie An- 
 of her aged predecessor over his mind. toinet'«. 
 Young, beautiful, high-spirited, and ambitious, 
 she early acquired a lead at coun which con- 
 tinued down to the overthrow of the throne. 
 Her character was better suited for adversity 
 than prosperity- ; in the arduous trials of her later 
 years she evinced a courage and magnanimity 
 worthy of the daughter of Maria Theresa, but in 
 the ea'rly and prosperous period other reign she 
 mingled the love of power with the spirit of 
 gayety, and instead of^ finnly preparing for the 
 storms -which were approaching, made too much 
 
 * Mig., i., 16. Lac, v.. 25. 52. Lab., ii., 33. 
 
 t Mi^., i., IC. Th., i., 7. Lac, v., S. Lab., li., 3L 
 
60 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. II. 
 
 use of her influence to support men who were 
 undermining alike her own happiness and the 
 stability of the throne. She had little education, 
 read hardly anything but novels and romances, 
 and had a fixed aversion, during her prosperous 
 days, to every species of business or serious em- 
 ployment. Maurepas, who had acquired in ear- 
 ly life an extreme distrust of courtier ministers, 
 had always the merit, at least, of appointing pop- 
 ular statesmen ; and though he had not the firm- 
 ness to support them when assailed by the priv- 
 ileged classes, their influence was sufficient to 
 prevent the increase of evil. But after his death 
 the courtier administration made no attempt to 
 check the progress of abuses. Many real griev- 
 ances, such as the corvees and monopolies, 
 which had been abolished, were restored; and 
 the people, perceiving that the reforms meditated 
 by their predecessors were abandoned, gave full 
 vent to their feelings of discontent. From that 
 moment the Revolution became inevitable: the 
 return to abuses after the taste for reionns has 
 been introduced, is, in an age of intelligence, in- 
 supportable.* 
 
 An unforttmate occurrence took place at this 
 time, which, though trivial in itself, is well wor- 
 thy of consideration, from the important efl^ect 
 which it had in swelling the tide of public dis- 
 content Vv'hich was setting in so stiongly against 
 the throne. A diamond necklace of immense val- 
 ue, belonging to a jeweller of Paris, had been long 
 desired by the queen, though she had had the 
 virtue to resist it when the king wished to make 
 her a present of it on the liirth of the dauphin. 
 On the 15th August, 1785, a letter was put into 
 the king's hands, written by the Cardinal de 
 Rohan, grand almoner, to the owner, in which 
 he stated, falsely as it afterward appeared, that 
 it had been sent to her majesty. The cardinal 
 was in consequence arrested, and the afiair gave 
 rise to a trial, which acquired extraordinarj^ 
 publicity, and terminated in the punishment of 
 Madame de Lamotte, the principal delinquent 
 in the affair. This intrigue revived all the old 
 stories, which the economy of recent 3'ears had 
 somewhat lulled into oblivion, of the prodigality 
 and extravagance of the court; and the Abbe 
 Talleyrand Perigord, then a yoiuig man, but 
 whose penetration nothing could escape, early 
 discerned its importance. "Attend narrowly," 
 he said, " to that miserable affair of the neck- 
 lace ; I should be nowise surprised if it over- 
 turned the throne."t 
 
 Vergennes was the minister selected by the 
 Ver-rennes court to revert to the old system, and he 
 jninTster. ' appointed Calonne minister of finance. 
 Calonne. Bold, inconsiderate, and enterprising, 
 this statesman was in every respect the reverse 
 of the cautious Genevese. Gifted with extraor- 
 dinary powers of application, brilliant in con- 
 versation, fertile in resources, he was both qual- 
 ified to form plans adapted to the emergency of 
 the moment, and to give them an air of plausi- 
 bility to the volatile and superficial. His system 
 was to encourage industiy b}' expenditure, to 
 stifle discontent by prodigality: the parsimony 
 of Neckar had ruined him with the courtiers ; 
 the extravagance of Calonne brought him into 
 obloquy with the nation. But how clearly so- 
 ever the people, who paid his expenses, perceiv- 
 ed the delusive nature of his measures, the court- 
 
 * Th., i., 7. I-ab., ii., 42, 43, 106. I.ac, v., 8. Camp., 
 i., 40. 41. 
 
 t Georgel, ii., 209. Lab., ii., 139. 
 
 iers, who profited by them, vehemently supported 
 him. The queen was captivated by the splen- 
 dour of his feies;* the nobles by the magnitude 
 of his pensions; even the capitalists were de- 
 ceived by the exactness with which he dischar- 
 ged the public engagements, and supposed his 
 resources inexhaustible, because his disposition 
 to borrow appeared so. They did not perceive, 
 what is generally the case with profuse states- 
 men, that his regularity in discharging old debts 
 arose from the incessant contracting of new 
 ones; and that the ultimate inability of the state 
 to meet its engagements was owing to the very 
 same causes which, for a limited period, sup- 
 ported its credit. He continued the system of 
 loans after the conclusion of the American war, 
 and at length exhausted the credit which the ju- 
 dicious measures of Neckar had procured for 
 the government. In these circumstances it be- 
 came necessary to have recourse to taxes, and 
 for this purpose the Notables, or principal nobil- 
 ity of the kingdom, were convened ; but a min- 
 ister who had rested his popularity on what he 
 gave, soon found his influence gone when he 
 came to ask.t 
 
 Composed entirely of the privileged classes, 
 who had been accustomed to derive „. 
 emolttment from, not make sacrifices 
 to the court, the Notables showed themselves 
 little disposed to support the public exigencies. 
 The state of the finances excited the utmost 
 alarm. It appeared that, since the retreat of 
 Neckar in 1781, the government had borrowed 
 1,640,000,000 francs, or i;G4,000,000 sterling, and 
 that the annual deficit of the revenue below the 
 expenditure was at least 140,000,000 francs, or 
 je5,600,000.t This discovery was the signal of 
 the ruin of Calonne. The consequences of his 
 extravagance came at once upon his head, and 
 he fell regretted by none but the creatures ot' his 
 bounty. 
 
 Joining rashness to ignorance, the Archbishop 
 of Toulouse used these remarkable expressions 
 in dismissing the Notables, which subsequent 
 events rendered so important and fatal in their 
 operation. " Since one interest alone ought to 
 animate the three orders of the state, each ought, 
 in the States-General, to have an equal number 
 of representatives. The first two wish to be 
 imited: by that means the Tiers Etat, secured in 
 another assembly of on equal number of voices as 
 tlw ckr^ij and nobles taken together, need fear no 
 derelictions of its interests. It is just, moreover, 
 that that part of his majesty's subjects, so nu- 
 merous, so interesting, so worthy of protection, 
 should acquire, at least by the number of its 
 votes, a counterpoise to the advantages which 
 birth and wealth must necessarily give to the 
 other orders. In conformity with this view, his 
 majesty will direct that henceforth the States- 
 General shall vote, not by orders, in stparat^ hmises, 
 but by head." Such were the projects openly 
 announced by the first minister of the crown. 
 While these perilous projects were dispersed 
 through the nation with the dissolution of the 
 Notables, Malesherbes, who had been restored 
 to the ministr)', was labouring to convince the 
 
 * To all tiie requests of the queen he answered, " If what 
 your majesty asks is possible, the thing is done ; if it is im- 
 possible, it will be done." As in the days of Louis XIV'., he 
 thought the dignity of France depciideii entirely on the 
 splendour of the court. — Weber. Memoirs, i., 301. 
 
 f Lai.., ii.. 127. Mig., I., 16. De Stael, i., 110, 111, 113. 
 Th., !., 9, 10. 
 
 ; Thiers, i., 10. De Stael, i., 113. Comptes Rend, iq 
 1788. Lab., ii., 156, 164. 
 
1 780-88.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 61 
 
 cabinet that the only secure basis for a national 
 representation was property, the true principle 
 of representative gov-ernments, and which alone 
 can render them either durable in their existence 
 or beneficial in their effects, but which was then 
 overlooked in the fervour of innovalion, and is 
 even at this day far from being so generally un- 
 derstood as its paramount importance deserves.* 
 
 Brienne, archbishop of Toulouse, the antag- 
 s c eded '•'"^^^ "^ Calonnc in the assembly of 
 by airh- Notables, succeeded him in the admin- 
 bishop of istration. But it was soon found that 
 Toulouse, he had neither firmness enough to 
 manage the assembly, nor ability adequate to 
 the administration of the finances. He had ac- 
 tivity without firmness, rashness without perse- 
 verance. He won the queen by his talents for 
 conversation and the brilliant style of his repar- 
 tees, but he had none of the solid acquirements 
 essential to a minister in troubled times. His 
 character was a mixture of skepticism and Jes- 
 uitism: without having lost any of the casuistry 
 of the schools, he had, to the scandal of the 
 Church, thrown himself into the arras of the phi- 
 Josophers and atheists of the day. Nor were 
 his talents or conduct more considerable. Bold 
 before the commencement of his plans, but fee- 
 ble in their execution, he lost everything from 
 his irresolution, his want of consideration, and 
 his vacillation of conduct.t 
 
 The assembly of Notables proved both parsi- 
 monious and reiractory. They pass- 
 Assernbly of gj resolutions approving of the pro- 
 Notables. . . , 11- .•■ T/r ^T I 
 
 vmcial assemblies ot M. Neckar, 
 
 fixing certain rules for the commerce of corn, 
 the suppression of the corvees, and then dis- 
 solved. The members carried with thern to 
 every part of France the infomiaiion they had 
 received as to the embarrassment of the finan- 
 ces, the faults of the ministers, and the prodi- 
 gality of the court. A spirit of resistance to 
 the government spread universally through the 
 country ; the magistrates and parliaments de- 
 manded openly a statement of the receipts and 
 expenditure ; and many officers of the army de- 
 clared that they would not obey the orders of 
 the king, if required to act against the support- 
 ers of the people. The Revolution commenced 
 with the parliaments and privileged classes ; 
 they little Ibresaw the tremendous power of the 
 torrent they were letting in upon the country. 
 All the world was felicitating the king on the 
 convocation of the Notables, as a sovereisii rem- 
 edy for all the evils of the state. Old Marshal 
 Segur was of an opposite opinion. " Tous les 
 esprits," said he to Louis, " sont en fermenta- 
 tion; les Notables pourraient etre que la graine 
 des Etats Gene.rmix. Et qui pourraic aujourd'- 
 hui en calculer les resultatsT'j 
 
 The fermentation, however, which these hints, 
 throwTi out by such high authority, produced 
 over the whole kingdom, soon became unbound- 
 ed. In the parliaments, in particular, the effer- 
 vescence was extreme. "You ask," said the 
 Abbt! Sabatier, counsellor of parliament, to the 
 Parliament of Paris, " an account of the receipts 
 and expenditure of government ('Des Etats'); 
 you are mistaken "in your object ; it is the 
 States-General ('Des Etats Generaux') which 
 
 * Boissy d'Anglas, ii., 276. Weber, i., 178. Lab., ii., 
 176, 178. 
 
 t Lac, v., 123. De Stael,i.,122. Mig., i., 19. Lab., ii., 
 169. Th., i.. 12. Soulavie, vi.. 36. 
 
 t Si^gur, iii.,70. Mig.,i., 20. De StaOl, i., 123. Lab., 
 ii., 175. 
 
 you require." This witty expression, thrown 
 in at a period of uncommon excitement, power- 
 fully contributed to the Revolution, by giving a 
 definite and fixed object to the wishes of the peo- 
 ple. The person who used it was sent to prison, 
 but that only rendered the public enthusiasm the 
 greater, and an occasion soon occurred which 
 brought matters to a crisis.* 
 
 Brienne was afterward under the necessity, 
 from the exhausted state of the treas- 
 uiy, of proposing the imposition of ^^J' '^"* 
 two new taxes, one on stamps, another "^"^^ 
 on territorial possessions. But the Parliament 
 of Paris, animated by the support of the public, 
 and encouraged in their resistance by the al- 
 most unanimous voice of the nation, refused to 
 register them ; a solemnity indispensable by the 
 French law to the legality of the impost. The 
 resistance of the parliaments was peculiarly for- 
 midable, from their being composed of persons 
 connected by birth or alliance with the greatest 
 families in the kingdom. The king immedi- 
 ately banished them to Troyes, whence, after 
 some time, they were brought back, on condition 
 that the tax should be registered. But this was 
 only the commencement of the strife. The in- 
 creasing wants of the crown rendered it indis- 
 pensable that several new imposts should be re- 
 gistered, and loans to the amount of 440,000,000 
 francs, or £17,400,000 sterling, were dependant 
 on their success. The Parliament of Paris re- 
 fused to register them. Upon this the king had 
 recourse to a bed of justice, and registered the 
 edict of his own authority ; proclaiming, at the 
 same time, to pacify the public, the restitution 
 of their rights to the Protestants, the annual pub- 
 lication of the public accounts, and the convoca- 
 tion of the States-General in five years.t 
 
 But the public mind was now too much agi- 
 tated to be satisfied with these con- contests 
 cessions. The parliament continued with the 
 its opposition, and still refused to re- parliaments, 
 gister tlte edict. Measures of severity were 
 again resorted to ; some of its members, inclu- 
 ding the Duke of Orleans, immediately exiled. 
 The parliament, upon this, published an arret, 
 protesting against lettres de cachet, and demand- 
 ing the recall of its members ; the arret was an- 
 nulled by the king, and confirmed by the par 
 liament. In this contest the Parliament of Paris 
 were supported by all the magistracy of France. 
 The movement became universal, the passion 
 for freedom indescribable. All classes joined 
 in the general enthusiasm ; many of the nobles, 
 most of the clergy, united in demanding the 
 States-General. Placing itself at the head of 
 the national movement, the Parliament of Paris 
 sacrificed its own powers to the nation, and sol- 
 emnly declared that it had no right to register 
 taxes, and, protesting against arbitrary impris- 
 onments, demanded a regular conv^ocation of 
 the same national assembly. This courageous 
 act was followed by a decree declaring its mem- 
 bers immovable, and all acts illegal, of those 
 who should usurp its place. The king arrested 
 and banished Fretau and Sabatier to the Isles 
 of Hyeres, and the Duke of Orieans to Villers 
 Cotteret.t But this imprudent measure had no 
 tendency to subdue the ferment of the nation. 
 The Revolution was now become inevitable ; the 
 
 - De Stael, i., 123, 124. Mig:., 20. Th., i., 14. 
 
 + Mig., i., 20. De Stael, i., 124. Th., i., 15. Lab., ii., 
 160, 190, 220. 
 
 t Mip., I., 21. Th., i., 16, 18. Lab., ii., 180, 200, 215. 
 De Stael, 124, 125. 
 
62 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. II. 
 
 concurring voice of all classes loudly demanded 
 the national estates. 
 
 Brienne, perceiving that the opposition of the 
 Coup d'Etat parliament Avas .systematic, and Avas 
 of Brienue. renewed at every successive demand 
 May 5, 1788. of a subsidy or of the sanctioning of 
 a loan, resolved to adopt a general measure, cal- 
 culated to extinguish all resistance in future. 
 With this view, he resolved to strip the body of 
 all but its judicial functions, and assumed La- 
 moignon, an intrepid man, to execute the diffi- 
 cult task. He executed the attempt with skill, 
 but the court were mistaken in their calculation 
 of the resistance they were to experience. A 
 new organization of the parliaments was at- 
 tempted. In one day all the magistracy of 
 France were exiled to make way for the new es- 
 tablishment. The keeper of the seals deprived 
 the Parliament of Paris of its political powers, 
 to vest them in a Cour Plcniere formed of the 
 court party, and he placed its judiciary func- 
 tions in the hands of the bailliages. Tiie Par- 
 liament of Paris boldly protested: against its dis- 
 solution ; the king replied by arresting two of 
 its members, D'Espremenil and Goeslard, in the 
 middle of the assembly, and three days after- 
 ward, registered the edicts in a bed of justice. 
 When the halberdiers entered the hall, no one 
 would point out the objects of their search. 
 " We are all D'Espremenils," said they from all 
 sides ; and it was the prisoners alone who de- 
 livered themselves up to the officers. But pub- 
 lic opinion was too strong for so violent a step. 
 The court of Chatclet protested against the usur- 
 pation of the crown. Troubles broke out at the 
 same time in Dauphiny, Bretagne, Provence, 
 Flanders, Languedoc, and Beam. The minis- 
 try, instead of tlie organized resistance of the 
 parliament, found theiuselves encountered by a 
 more vehement and formidable opposition from 
 the people. It was headed by the higher classes ; 
 the noblesse, the commons, the provincial as- 
 semblies, and the clergy, joined in the demand. 
 Pressed by the necessitous state of the exche- 
 quer, Brienne convoked an extraordinary as- 
 sembly of the clergy ; but the first thing they did 
 was to vote an address to the king, demanding 
 the abolition of the Cour Pleniere, and the im- 
 mediate convocation of the States-General, as 
 the only means of re-establishing the public 
 credit, and terminating the distressing conflicts 
 of royal and judicial aiUhority.* 
 
 Driven to extremities, Brienne, as a last re- 
 
 1^^^^ ,r, source, agreed to convoke the States- 
 Agrees to , '' T^ 1 . 1 ■ J 
 
 convoke the General. But tins resolution proved 
 States-Gen- his ruin. He had been called to the 
 eral. helm of ati'airs to remedy the dis- 
 
 tresses of the government, he had succeeded 
 only in plunging them deeper into difficulties : 
 he found the court involved only in pecuniary 
 embarrassments, he left it engaged in the stiil 
 more serious contests of power. He rendered 
 inevitable what was deemed by the court the 
 ■worst possible method of avoiding the public dif- 
 ficulties, the convocation of the States-General.t 
 The immediate cause of his ruin was the sus- 
 pension of the payment of the public rentes, 
 ■which amoimted to a declaration of national 
 bankruptcy.: His administration has been much 
 decried, because, during its subsistence, the pub- 
 lic calamities commenced ; but, if he had pos- 
 sessed the ability of Sully, or the sagacity of 
 
 * Soulavie, vi., 205, 212. Lai)., ii.. 227, 264. Mig., i. 
 22. De Stael, i., 125. Th., i., 22, 23. 
 
 tTb., i.,23. i Ue Stael, i., 127. Th., i., 24. 
 
 Richelieu, the resvilt -would have been the same. 
 The period had arrived when the public exigen- 
 cies absolutely required a supply of nioney, and 
 when it could be procured only by redressing 
 the public grievances.* 
 
 The court, assailed in so many quarters, took 
 the bold resolution of convoking the States-Gen- 
 eral, in the hope that the Tiers Etat Would de- 
 fend the throne against the legal, as their ances- 
 tors had against the feudal aristocracy. Passing 
 suddenly from one extreme to another, they not 
 only pressed the convocation of the Estates, and 
 prescribed the mode of their assembly, but invi- 
 ted the learned bodies and popular writers to 
 give their advice on the subject ; and, at , , „ 
 the same time that the clergy declared "^ 
 in a body that it was necessary to accelerate the 
 period of its meeting, the king fixed their con- 
 vocation at an earlier date than any one antici- 
 pated.t 
 
 The most vehement fermentation instantly 
 seized the public mind ; social regeneration be- 
 came the order of the day ; the ardent and philan- 
 thropic were seduced by the brilliant prospects of 
 unbounded felicity which appeared to be open- 
 ing upon the nation, the selfish entranced by the 
 hope of individual elevation in the midst of the 
 general confusion. Thousands of political pam- 
 phlets inundated the country ; politics -were dis- 
 cussed in every society; a imiversal enthusi- 
 asm seized the nation. But, though all classes 
 were unanimous in desiring the convocation of 
 the States-General, and the commencement of 
 the public reforms, they differed widely in the 
 measures which they deemed likely to adv'ance 
 the public welfare, and already were to be seen 
 the seeds of those divisions which afterward 
 deluged the monarchy with blood. The higher 
 classes of the noblesse, and all the prelates, de- 
 sired the maintenance of the separation of the 
 three orders, and the preservation of their ex- 
 clusive privileges ; the philosophic party, from 
 whiim the Girondists afterward sprung, con- 
 sidered the federal republics of America as a 
 model of government; while the few cautious 
 obsen'ers whom the general whirl had left in 
 the nation, in vain suggested that, as they were 
 about to embark on the dark and unknown sea 
 of innovation, the British Constitution was the 
 only haven in which they could hope to find a 
 secure asylum. j 
 
 In consequence of this change in the adminis- 
 tration and royal designs, the convo- , ^ j-gg 
 cation of the Estates was fixed in An- ' '■' ' 
 gust, 1783, for the first of May, 1783. Neckar 
 was recalled, the parliament re-established, the 
 Cour Plcniirc abolished, tiie provinces satisfied, 
 and ever3'thing prepared for the election of the 
 members of the States-General. § 
 
 This great victory had been gained by the 
 united efforts of all classes ; the nobles had sup- 
 ported the Tiers Etat, and the clergy had been 
 almost unanimous on the same side; but, as 
 tisual on such occasions, divisions were conse- 
 quent on success. The separate interests of the 
 different bodies who had combined in the strug- 
 gle appeared when it was over. Each of the 
 three bodies had entertained different views in 
 demanding the States-General. The parlia- 
 ments had hoped to rule them as in their last 
 assemblage in 1614; the nobles expected, by the 
 
 * De Stael. i., 125, 126. t Th., i., 23. Lab., ii., 266, 267. 
 X Lab., ii., 267, 268. (> Mig., i., 24. Th., i., 23. 
 
1788.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 63 
 
 convocation of thi.s body, to regain their lost in- 
 fluence; tlie Tiers Etat to rise into political im- 
 portance. These discordant views irnniciliatel)' 
 were supported by their lespective adherents, 
 and divisions broke out between the three Es- 
 tates.* 
 
 The commons vehemently maintained that 
 Division of 'he vast increase in the numbers and 
 thejiopular consideration of their body since the 
 party. last assemblage of the Estates in 1G14, 
 
 rendered it indispensable that a great addition 
 should be made to the number of their represent- 
 atives ; that many places, formerly of no mo- 
 ment, had risen into opulence and importance 
 within the last two centuries, wliich were wholly 
 without representatives ; that no national assem- 
 bly could rest on a secure basis which was thus 
 rested only on a partial representation ; that the 
 light of the age was adverse to the maintenance 
 of leudal distinctions, and that the only way to 
 prevent a revolution was to concede in time the 
 just demands of the people. On the other hand, 
 the Parliament of Paris, the nobles, and privi- 
 leged classes alleged, that the only way to pre- 
 vent innovation was to adhere to the practice of 
 the constitution; that no human wisdom could 
 foresee the effect of any considerable addition to 
 the representatives of the people ; and that, if 
 such a deviation from established usage could 
 ever be expedient, the last time when it should 
 be attempted was in a moment of great public 
 excitement, when the object of political wisdom 
 should be to moderate rather than increase the 
 ambition of the lower orders.t 
 
 A pamphlet published at this period by the 
 Abbe Sieyes, under the title " Glu'est ce le Tiers 
 Etat 1" had a powerful inlluence on the future 
 destinies of Prance. " The Tiers Etat," said 
 he, "is the French nation, minus the noblesse 
 and the clergy." Public opinion ran daily more 
 strongly in favour of the commons; extrava- 
 gant expectations began to be formed ; visionary 
 schemes to be published, and that general un- 
 hinging of opinions took place which is the 
 surest prelude of a revolution. Brienne, by order 
 of the king, issued an invitation to all the writers 
 of France to publish their sentiments on the for- 
 mation of the approaching States-General ; tlie 
 country was immediately deluged with pam- 
 phlets, many written with great talent, others 
 indulging in the most chimerical projects. t 
 Everything tended to increase the public effer- 
 vescence, and to disqualify men from forming a 
 rational judgment on public ailairs. 
 
 Upon Neckar's return to the administration, 
 jj^^l^ , he found only 250,000 francs, or jtl 1 ,000,^ 
 return ^ ^'^ '^e royal treasury. On the following 
 day he received numerous tenders of 
 loans, and the public funds rose at once thirty 
 per cent. The public creditors were then alive 
 only to the danger of national bankruptcy which 
 arose from the perfidy or extravagance of kings; 
 they had yet to learn the far more imminent peril 
 which springs from the violence and vacillation 
 of the people. He immediately recalled all per- 
 sons exiled for political ofiences, and strove to- 
 the utmost to assuage individual distress. But 
 it was too late. When he received the intima- 
 tion of his recall, his first words were, "Ah! 
 would that I could recall the fifteen months of 
 the Archbishop of Toulouse !" In truth, during 
 those eventful years, the period of safe conces- 
 
 * De Staei, i., 126. W\«,.. i., 24. Th i ''7 
 tMig.,1., 25. Th., 27,28. De Stael, i., 125. 
 X Lab., II., 312. De Staei, i., 169, 170. 
 
 sion was gone by; eveiy point now abandoned 
 was adding fuel to the flame.* 
 
 Neckar, yielding to the three of democratic 
 ambition, had secretly resolved to dmi- Keckar 
 hie the numbers of the Tiers Etat in .loubiestho 
 the approaching assembly; but, in or- Tiers Etat, 
 der to feel his way with the public, and throw 
 the responsibility of so great a change off him- 
 self, he convoked the Notables of the kingdom; 
 but they rejected the proposal. The danger, 
 on the eve of a political crisis, of adding so 
 much suddenl}' to the power of ambitious com- 
 mons, was distinctly perceived. One bureau 
 alone, headed by Monsieur, afterward Louis 
 XVIII., reported that it should be conceded.t 
 Finding that the object could not be gained in 
 this vvay, and apprehensive, it is said, that if the 
 people were irritated by its refusal, they would 
 return even a greater number of deputies to the 
 assembly, he prevailed on the king's council to 
 authorize it. At the same time, he „ „. _ 
 procured the admission of the cvr^s '"' ' ~ ' 
 into the body of the clergj'; a measure which 
 gave as great an accession to the popular party 
 in their order.t § 
 
 The elections soon after commenced, and, as 
 might have been expected, almost all „. 
 terminated in favour of the popular par- •'^'^'^'^''"^ 
 ty. They were carelessly conducted by the con- 
 stituted authorities; the crown made no attempt 
 to influence the returns; the importance of at- 
 tending to the quality of those who exercised the 
 elective franchise was not understood ; and, af- 
 ter a ie-w days, eveiy person decently dressed was 
 allowed to vote, without any questions being 
 asked: upward of three millions of electors con- 
 curred in the formation of the assembly. The 
 parliaments had little influence in the choice of 
 the deputies, the court none ; the noblesse chose 
 a few popular persons of their rank, but the great 
 bulk of their representatives were flrmly attach- 
 ed to the interests of their order, and as hostile 
 to the Tiers Etat as to the oligarchy of great 
 families who composed the court. The clergy 
 named deputies attached to the cause of freedom, 
 and the bishops those likely to uphold the hie- 
 rarchy. Finally, the Tiers Etat chose a numer- 
 
 * De Statl, i., 157, 159. 
 
 t This resolution was carried by the single castinpr-vote 
 of that prince. When it was reported to Louis XVI., he 
 immediately said, " Let them add mine ; I give it willing- 
 ly." — Laeaume, ii., 323. 
 
 t Nothing can bo more instructive than to review the ar- 
 guments by which this able and good, but mistaken man, 
 supported this great and decisive addition to the popular 
 iiiiluence. He rested his opinion on the unanimity ex- 
 pressed on this point in all tlie petitions to the kin? from 
 the towns and municipalities of the kiniidom, on the general 
 concurrence of the writers who had published their opin- 
 ions, and on the recent decisions of the division of the par- 
 liaments : "All hope," said he, "of a successful issue 
 would be lost, if it were made to depend on establishing 
 harmony between three orders essentially at variance iu 
 their principles and interest. To put an end to the injus- 
 tice of pecuniary privileges, and maintain a proper equilib- 
 rium between the Tiers Etat and the other orders, we must 
 give it a double representation ; without that there would 
 always be a m.ijority of two to one against them ; whereas, 
 when compfilled to look to common interests, they will only 
 adopt the laws which impose the least burden upon the 
 community, and will thus compel the Tiers Etat to accept 
 the impost which at present they deem most onerous. We 
 ascribe too much importance to this last order. The Tiers 
 Etat, by their nature and their occupations, must ever be 
 strangers to political passions. Their intelligence and 
 goodness of disposition are a sufficient guarantee against 
 all the apprehensions at present cntert.aiued of their ex- 
 cesses."— Neckak, Memoirs, i., 1"5, 180, and Labaume, 
 ii., S26, 327. 
 
 t) De Stael, i., 170, 171. Lab., ii., 325, 0. Mig., i., 25. 
 Th.,i.,29. 
 
64 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. II. 
 
 ous body of representatives, firm in their attach- 
 ment to liberty, and ardently desirous of extend- 
 ing the intluence of their order.* 
 
 Everything contributed at this period to swell 
 the torrent of popular enthusiasm. The minds 
 of men, strongly agitated by the idea of an ap- 
 proaching revolution, were in a continual fer- 
 ment ; the parliaments, nobles, and dignified cler- 
 gy, who had headed the movement, already saw 
 themselves assailed by the arms which they had 
 given to the people.t In Brittany, the nobles, in- 
 dignant at the duplication of the Tiers Etat, 
 against which they had strongly protested, with- 
 drew from the elections, and named no deputies 
 to the assembly ; an imprudent defection, attend- 
 ed with fatal efiects to the cause of order in after 
 times.t Even the elements contributed to swell 
 the public discontent, and seemed to have de- 
 clared war on the falling monarchy. A dread- 
 ful storm of hail, in July, 1788, laid waste the 
 provinces, and produced such a diminution in 
 the harvest as threatened all the horrors of fam- 
 ine ; while the severity of the succeeding winter 
 exceeded anything that had been experienced 
 since that which followed the disasters of Louis 
 XIV. The charity of Pension, which immor- 
 talized that disastrous epoch, was now equalled 
 by the humane beneficence of the clergy of 
 Paris ; but all their efforts could not keep pace 
 ■with the immense mass of indigence, which was 
 swelled by the confluence of dissolute and aban- 
 doned characters from every part of France. 
 These \vretches assembled round the throne, like 
 the seabirds round the wreck, which are the har- 
 bingers of death to the sinking mariner, and al- 
 ready appeared in fearful numbers in the streets 
 on occasion of the slightest tumult. They were 
 all in a state of destitution, and, for the most 
 part, owed their life to the charity of the ecclesi- 
 astics, whom they afterward massacred in cold 
 blood in the prison of Cannes.§ 
 
 The effect of these measures of M. Neckar is 
 thus described by the man of all oth- 
 EfFect of these ^j.^, ^.j^p gained most bv the revolu- 
 tion, Napoleon Bonaparte. '■ Ihe 
 concessions of Neckar were the work of a man 
 ignorant of the first principles of the government 
 of mankind. It was he who overturned the 
 monarchy, and brought Louis XVI. to the scaf- 
 fold. Marat, Danton, Robespierre himself did 
 less mischief to France ; he brought on the rev- 
 olution which they consummated. Such re- 
 formers as M. Neckar do incredible mischief. 
 The thoughtful read their works ; the populace 
 are carried away by them ; the public happiness 
 is in every mouth; and soon after, the people 
 find themselves without bread ; they revolt, and 
 society is overturned. Neckar w"as the author 
 of all the evils which desolated France during 
 the Revolution ; all the blood that was shed rests 
 on his head. "II 
 
 Making every allowance for the despotic feel- 
 ings which so strongly characterized the French 
 emperor, it is impossible to deny that there is 
 much truth in these observations. Admitting 
 that a struggle was inevitable, the question re- 
 mains, Was it expedient to make so extraordi- 
 nary an addition to the poivcrs of the people at 
 such a crisis ; to double the number of the pop- 
 ular representatives on the eve of a conflict 1 
 The result proved that it was not. It was in- 
 
 * Th., i., 26. Duiriont, 57. 
 t lb., Lac, vii., 6, 7. 
 I) Th., i., 36, 37. Lac, vi., 
 8 Bour., viii., 109. 
 
 t Th., i., 36. 
 Pr., Hist., i., 290,921. 
 
 tended to conciliate ; it had the effect of aliena- 
 ting: it was meant to attach the people to the 
 throne ; it made them combine for its overthrow: 
 it was designed to produce oblivion of past in- 
 jury; it induced ambition of future elevation. 
 
 Timely concession, it is frequently said, is the 
 only way to prevent a revolution. ' The obser- 
 vation is just in one sense, but unjust in anoth- 
 er ; and it is by attending to the distinction be- 
 tween the two great objects of popular ambition, 
 that the means can alone be attained of allaying 
 public discontent without unhinging the frame 
 of societ}'. 
 
 There is, in the first place, the love of freedom, 
 that is, of immunity from personal distinction 
 restriction, oppression, or injury, between free- 
 This principle is perfectly innocent, dom and de- 
 and never exists without producing '"ocracy. 
 the happiest effects. Every concession which is 
 calculated to increase this species of liberty, is 
 comparatively safe in all ages and in all places. 
 
 But there is another principle, strong at all 
 times, but especially to be dreaded in moments 
 of excitement. This is the principle of demo- 
 cratic ambition; the desire of exercising the 
 powers of sovereignty ; of sharing in the govern- 
 ment of the state. This is the dangerous prin- 
 ciple ; the desire, not of exercising industry with- 
 out molestation, but of exerting power without 
 control. 
 
 The first principle will only produce disturb- 
 ances Avhen real evils are felt ; and with the re- 
 moval of actual grievance, tranquillity may be 
 anticipated. The second frequently produces 
 convulsions, independent of any real cause of 
 complaint ; or, if it has been excited by such, it 
 continues after they have been removed. The 
 first never spreads by mere contagion ; the sec- 
 ond is frequently most virulent when the disease 
 has been contracted in this manner. 
 
 In moments of political agitation, it should be 
 the object of the statesman to remove Effect of 
 all real causes of complaint, but firmly Neckur's 
 resist all rapid encroachments of pop- concession. 
 ular ambition. All restrictions upon personal 
 liberty, industiy, or property ; all oppressive tax- 
 es ; all odious personal distinctions, should be 
 abandoned ; all prosecutions calculated to in- 
 flame the passions, and convert a demagogue 
 into a martyr, should be avoided. If punish- 
 ment is required, the mildest which the case will 
 admit should be chosen; in selecting the species 
 of prosecution, the least vindictive should be 
 preferred. The inflicting of death should, above 
 all things, be shunned, unless for crimes which 
 public feeling has stigmatized as worthy of that 
 penalty. But, having conceded thus much to the 
 principles of justice and the growth of freedom, 
 all attempts at a sudden increase of the power 
 of the people should be steadily opposed, and 
 nothing conceded which tends to awaken the 
 passion of democracy. 
 
 In so far as Neckar and Turgot laboured to re- 
 lieve the real evils of France ; in so far as they 
 sought to re-establish the finances, curb the pow- 
 ers of the nobles, emancipate the industry of 
 the peasants, purify the administration of jus- 
 tice, their labours were wise and beneficial, and 
 they did all that men could do to tenninate the 
 oppression and avert the disasters of their coun- 
 try. In so far as they yielded to public clamour, 
 and conceded unnecessarily to the ambition of 
 the people ; in so far as they departed, with un- 
 due rapidity, from ancient institutions to acquire 
 temporary popularity, they desen'e the censure 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 65 
 
 of posterity, and are answerable for all the disas- 
 ters which ensued. 
 
 The talent of using political power so as not 
 to abuse it, is one of the last acquisitions of 
 mankind, and can be gained only by many ages 
 of protected industry and experienced freedom. 
 It can never, with safety, be extended to tlie great 
 body of the people, and, least of all, to a nation 
 just emerging from the fetters of servitude: un- 
 less the growth of political intluence in the low- 
 er orders lias been as gradual as the changes of 
 time, or the insensible extension of day in spring, 
 it will infallibly destroy the pcr.-,onal freedom 
 which constitutes its principal object. A cer- 
 tain intermixture of the democratic spirit is of- 
 ten indispensable to tlie e.vtrication of individual 
 liberty, just as a certain degree of warmth is re- 
 quisite to vivify a.nd cherish animal life : but. 
 Unless the fire :s restrained within narrow lim- 
 its, it will coE-sume those who are exposed to its 
 fierceness, not less in political than private life. 
 The Ipve of real freedom may always be dis- 
 tingui.'i'ied from the passion for popular power. 
 The one is directed to objects of practical im- 
 portance and the redress of experienced wrongs ; 
 the other aims at visionary improvement and 
 the increase of democratic influence. The one 
 complains of what has been felt, the other an- 
 ticipates what may be gained ; disturbances ari- 
 sing from the fii-st subside when the evils from 
 which they spring are removed; troubles origi- 
 nating in the second magnify with every \ictory 
 which is achieved. The experience of evil is 
 the cause of agitation from the first, the love of 
 power the source of con\ajlsions from the last. 
 Reform and concessions are the remedies appro- 
 priate to the former, steadiness and resistance 
 the means of extinguishing the flame arising 
 from the latter. The passion of love is not more 
 dependant on the smiles of beauty, than the pas- 
 sion of democracy on the hope of successive 
 augmentations of power. 
 
 It is the intention of Nature that the power of 
 the people should increase as society advances ; 
 but it is not her intention that this increase 
 should take place in such a way as to convulse 
 the state, and ultimately extinguish their own 
 freedom. All improvements that are really ben- 
 eficial, all changes which are destined "to be 
 lasting, are gradual in their progress. It is by 
 suddenly increasing the power of the lower or- 
 ders that the frame of society is endangered, be- 
 cause the immediate eflect of such a change is 
 to unsettle men's minds, and bring into full play | 
 Vol. I.— I 
 
 the most visionary and extravagant ideas of the 
 most desperate and ambitious men. Such an 
 efiect was produced in France by the duplication 
 of the Tiers Etat in 1788; and similar conse- 
 quences will, in all ages, be found to attend the 
 concession of great political jiowers at a period 
 of more than ordinary political excitation.* 
 
 "No revolution," says Madame de Stael, 
 " can succeed in a great country, un- d , . ' 
 less It IS commenced by the aristocrat- iieaded by 
 ic class ; the people allenvard get pos- the i.ighcr 
 session of it, but they cannot strike classes, 
 the first blow. When" I recollect that it was the 
 parliaments, the nobles, the clerg}-, who first 
 strove to limit the royal authority, I am far from 
 intending to insinuafe that their design in so do- 
 ing was culpable. A sincere enthusiasm then 
 animated all ranks of Frenchmen ; public spirit 
 had spread universally ; and among the higher 
 classes, the most enlightened and generous were 
 those who ardently desired that public opinion 
 should have its due sway in the direction of af- 
 fairs. But can the privileged ranks, who com- 
 menced the Revolution, accuse those who only 
 carried it on 1 Some will say, we wished only 
 that the changes should proceed a certain length ; 
 others, that they should go a step farther; but 
 who can regulate the impulse of a great people 
 when once put in motion V'f A heavy respon- 
 sibility attaches to those of the higher ranks, 
 who, during periods of agitation, support the de- 
 mands of the populace for a sudden increase of 
 power, instead of directing their desires to what 
 may really benefit them, the redress of experien- 
 ced evils. On their heads rest all the disasters 
 and bloodshed which necessarily follow in their 
 train. It is diflicult to say which are most 
 worthy of reprobation : the haughty aristocrats, 
 who resist every attempt at practical improve- 
 ment when it can be done with safety, or the fac- 
 tious demagogues, who urge on additions to 
 popular power when it threatens society with 
 convulsions. The tnte patriot is the reverse of 
 Ijoth ; he will, in eveiy situation, attach himself 
 to the party which resists the evils that threaten 
 his country; in periods when liberty is endan- 
 gered, he will side with the popular, in moments 
 of agitation, support the monarchical party. 
 
 * This distinction coincides with that which is drawn by 
 the Viscount St. Chamans, in his late able and eloquent 
 pamphlet on the Revolution of 1830, between personal and 
 political freedom. It lies at the foundation of all rational 
 discussion on this vital subject.— See St. Chamans, 67, 68- 
 
 t R^v. Fran.;., i., 125. 
 
C6 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. Iff. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CONSTITDENT ASSEMBLY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Elevated State of Science in France at tlie Commencement 
 of the Revolution.— Rash innovations of the Constituent 
 Assembly.— Opening of the States-General.— Speeches of 
 the King and Neckar.— Ideas of the latter regarding the 
 Revolution.— Views of the Tiers Etat, and of the Nohles 
 and digujfied Clergy, and of the King.— Neckar's Du- 
 plication of the Tiers Etat.— Violent Opposition to it from 
 the Nobles and Clergy.— Remarkable Prophecy of Beau 
 Re<'ard.— Composition of the Tiers Etat.— Absence of Men 
 of literature and Philosophy, and great Proprietors.— 
 Great Number of Lawyers.— Efforts of Nobles and Court 
 to sway the Assembly.— Tiers Etat insist for one As- 
 sembly.— Violent Contests between them and the Nobles. 
 
 They take the Name of National Assembly.— Uismay of 
 
 the Nobles.— Enthusiasm over the Country.— Neckar pro- 
 poses a mixed Constitution, like the English.— Tennis- 
 court Oath.— Majority of the Clergy join the Tiers Etat. 
 —Royal Sitting of 23d June.— Duke of Orleans and Forty- 
 seven Nobles join the Tiers Etat.— The King yields, and 
 enjoins Majority of Nobles to do the same.— Immense 
 Effervescence in Paris.— Revolt of the French Guards.- 
 "Vigorous Measures resolved on by the Court.— Change of 
 Ministry.— Military Preparations.— Consternation of Paris 
 on this.— Troops revolt, and are withdrawn to Versailles. 
 —Dreadful Tumults in Pans.— Storming of the Bastile. 
 
 Cruelty of the Populace, and their Enthusiasm. — The 
 
 King, being informed of it, yields, and visits Paris.— Com- 
 mencement of the Emigration.— Recall of Neckar, and 
 Flight of the Ministry.— Excesses of the Populace.— Con- 
 sequences of the popular Triumph of National Guards. — 
 Feudal Rights abandoned by the Nobility.— Anarchy in 
 France, and Famine in Paris.— Consequences of this Meas- 
 ure.— Rights of Man.— Formation of the Constitution, 
 and Question of the Veto.— Democratic State of Paris.— 
 State of the Finances.— Famine in the Capital and Prov- 
 inces. Banquet at Versailles.— Agitation and Insurrec- 
 tion at Paris.— State of the Assembly and Court.— The 
 Mob invade Versailles, surround the Palace, and nearly 
 Murder the King and Queen.— Heroic Conduct of the lat- 
 ter.— Royal Family brought to Paris.— Vast Changes in- 
 troduced by the Constituent Assembly.— Faults on both 
 sides.— General Reflections on the Causes which precip- 
 itated the Revolution. 
 
 The higher branches of science, says Plato, 
 are not useful to all, but only to a few ; general 
 ignorance is neither the greatest evil nor the 
 most to be feared; a mass of ill-digested informa- 
 tion is much more dangerous.* A little knowl- 
 edge, says Bacon, makes men irreligious, but 
 profound lliought brings them back to devotion. 
 In the truths unfolded by these great men are to 
 be found the remote sources of the miseries of 
 the French Revolution. 
 
 Science had never attained a more command- 
 ing station than in France at the close 
 fta^trof sci- ofihe eighteenth century : astronomy, 
 cnce at the investigated in its farthest recesses by 
 date of the the aid of mathematical calculations, 
 Revolution, j^^^^ ^j,g{ of all the exact sciences, been 
 brought to perfection; the profound researches 
 of her geometricians had rivalled all but New- 
 ton's glory ; while the talent of her chemists and 
 the genius of her naturalists had explored the 
 hidden processes of Nature, and made the rem- 
 nants of animated life unfold the pristine order 
 of creation. What then was wanting to fit her 
 people for rational liberty, and qualify them for 
 the exercise of the rights of freemen 1 A sense 
 of religion, the habits of sober thought, and mod- 
 eration of general opinion ; and the want of these 
 rendered all the others of no avail. 
 
 Histoiy affords no example of an era in which 
 
 * Plato, De Legibus, lib. vii. 
 
 innovation was so hastily pursued, Rashness of 
 and ambition so blindly worshipped ; Constituent 
 when the experience of ages was so Assembly, 
 haughtily rtjected, and the fancies of the mo- 
 ment so rashly adopted ; in which the rights of 
 property were so scandalously violated, and the 
 blood of the innocent so profusely la\ished. If 
 we trace these frightful disorders to their source, 
 we shall find them all springing from the pride 
 of a little knowledge ; from hisvirical analogies 
 imperfectly ixnderstood, exampler_ of antiquity 
 rashly misapplied, dreams of perfecJon crudely 
 conceived, speculations of the moment instantly 
 acted upon. The danger of such proceedings 
 had been repeatedly exposed ; the annals cf Ta- 
 citus, the discourses of Machiavel, the essays 
 of Bacon, had long before illustrated them ; bat 
 these, and all the other lessons of experience, 
 were passed over with disdain, and every village 
 politician who had dreamed of politics for a few 
 mouths, deemed himself superior to the greatest 
 men whom the world had ever produced. 
 
 The great danger of setting the ideas of men 
 afloat upon political subjects consists „ ., ^ . 
 in the multitude who can think, com- no"ation "' 
 pared to the few who can think cor- 
 rectly; in the rapidity with which the most stable 
 institutions can be overturned, compared with 
 the excessively slow rate at which they can be 
 restored. Every man can speak of politics ; 
 there is not one in ten who can understand them : 
 every man flatters himself he knows something 
 of history ; to be qualified to reason on it cor- 
 rectly requires the incessant study of half a life- 
 time. But, unfortunately, the knowledge of the 
 difliculty of the subject, and of the extensive in- 
 formation which it requires, is one of the last ac- 
 quisitions of the human mind ; none are so rash 
 as those who are least qualified to govern ; none 
 so really worthy of the lead as those who are 
 least desirous to assume it. 
 
 The 5th of May, 1789, was the day fixed for 
 theopeningof the States-General: that opening of 
 was the first day of the French Revo- the states- 
 
 lUtion. General. 
 
 On the evening before, a religious ceremony 
 preceded the installation of the Es- j^^ , j^gg 
 tates. The king, his family, his ^ ' 
 ministers, and the deputies of the three orders, 
 walked in procession from the church of Notre 
 Dame to that of St. Louis, to hear mass. The 
 appearance of the assembled bodies, and the re- 
 flection that a national solemnity, so long fallen 
 into disuse, was about to be revived, excited the 
 most lively enthusiasm in the multitude. The 
 weather was fine ; the benevolent and dignified 
 air of the king, the graceful manners of the 
 queen, the pomp and splendour of the ceremony, 
 and the undefined hopes which it excited, exalted 
 the spirits of all who witnessed it. But the re- 
 flecting observed with pain that the sullen lines 
 of feudal etiquette were preserved with rigid 
 formality, and they augured ill of the national 
 representation which commenced its labours 
 with such distinctions. First marched the clergy 
 in grand costume, with violet robes ; next the no- 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 67 
 
 blesse, in black dres«es, with ,;:;old vests, lace 
 cravats, and hats adorned with white plumes ; 
 last, the Tiers Etat, dressed in black, with short 
 cloaks, muslin cravats, arid hats without feath- 
 ers.* But the friends of the people consoled 
 themselves with the observation that, however 
 hiunble their attire, the numbers of this class 
 greatly preponderated over those of the other 
 orders. I- 
 
 Hardly any of the deputies had hitherto ac- 
 quired great popular reputation. One alone at- 
 tractexl sjeiieral attention. Horn of noble parents, 
 he had warmly espoused the popular side, with- 
 out losing the pride of aristocratic connexion. 
 His talents universally known, and his integrity 
 generally suspected, rendered him the object of 
 painful anxiety ; harsh and disagreeable features, 
 a profusion of black hair, and a commanding air, 
 attracted the curiosity even of those who were 
 unacquainted with his reputation. His name 
 was MiRABEAU, future leader of the assembly.; 
 
 Two ladies of rank from a gallery, with veiy 
 difierent feelings, beheld the spectacle. The one 
 was Madame de Montmorin, wife of the minister 
 of foreign ali'airs; the other the illustrious daugh- 
 ter of M. Neckar, Madame de Stael. The latter 
 exulted in the boundless prospect of national 
 felicity which seemed to be opening under the 
 auspices of her father. " You are wrong to re- 
 joice," said Madame de Montmorin; "this event 
 forebodes much misery to France and to our- 
 selves." Her presentiment turned out too well- 
 founded : she herself perished on the scaffolrJ 
 with one of her sons ; another was dro-mied ; '^er 
 husband was massacred in the prisons oh the 
 second of September; her eldest daugh*^'' ''''a^ 
 cut off in jail; her youngest died of 'i broken 
 heart before she had attained the p^s ot thirty 
 years.§ 
 
 On the following dar the ass&iibly was open- 
 M .1 ,-co ed with extraordinary pomp. Galler- 
 May 5, i,S9. .^^^ (^gposed in the lonn of an am- 
 phitheatre, were filled wiDi a brdhant assembly 
 of .spectators; the deputies «'ere mtroauced and 
 arranged according to the order established m 
 the last convocation in 1614. The clergy sat on 
 the ri"-ht the noole-s on the left, the commons in 
 front of the tkro-'ie. Loud applauses followed 
 the entry of the popular leaders, especially those 
 who were nu-awn to have contributed to the con- 
 vocation of the states. M. Neckar, in particu- 
 lar wss distinguished by the reception which 
 he experienced. After the ministers and depu- 
 ties had taken their places, the king appeared, 
 fo-'lowed by the queen, the princes, and a brill- 
 iant suite. The monarch placed himself upon 
 his throne amid the loudest applause, and the 
 rhree orders at the same instant rose and covered 
 themselves, li The days were past when the 
 third estate remained uncovered, and spoke only 
 on their knees ; that first spontaneous movement 
 was ominous of the subsequent conduct of that 
 aspiring body. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the monarch, with emo- 
 tion, "the day which my heart so 
 ^kin?. 1°"S desired is at length arrived; I 
 "' find myself surrounded by the repre- 
 sentatives of the nation, which it is my first glo- 
 ry to command. A long period has elapsed 
 
 * It was observed that the Duke of Orleans, who walked 
 last, as of highest rank among the nobles, lingered behind, 
 and was surrounded by the dense masses of the Tiers Etat, 
 ■who immediately followed. t Mig., i., 30. Th., i., 43. 
 
 i Mad. de Stafil, i., 186. (> Mad. de Stadl, i., 187. 
 
 11 Mig., 1., 31. Th., i., 43. 
 
 since the last convocation of the States-General; 
 and although the meeting of these assemblies 
 was thought to have fallen into desuetude, I 
 have not hesitated to re-establish a usage from 
 which the kingdom may derive new force, and 
 which may open to its inhabitants hitherto un- 
 known sources of prosperity." He concluded 
 with these words: "Everything which can be 
 expected from the warmest solicitude for the 
 public welfare — everything that can be expected 
 from a king, the firmest friend of his people, you 
 may expect from me. May unanimity prevail 
 among you, and this epoch become forever mem- 
 orable "in the aimals of French prosperity I" 
 These sentiments excited at first the warmest 
 expressions of gratitude ; but, on reflection, the 
 deputies observed, with regret, that nothing tan- 
 gible was proposed by the crown, and that ex- 
 pressions of the necessity of raising money, and 
 the unsettled state of the public mind, was all 
 that followed from these intentions. The speech 
 of M. Neckar was anxiously looked for, as ex- 
 plaining the real s<.>n(imeuts of the court ; but it 
 was long and undecided, resembling rather the 
 exposition of a cautiou.s financier than the ha- 
 rangue of a c'-'cat statesman on the opening of a 
 new political era.* 
 
 In trui'i, not^j ithstanding his great abilities, 
 the Sw-'ss minister mistook the signs Ncckar's 
 of tli^ time5. Pressed by the needy ideas of the 
 stste of the public treasury, his at- Revolution. 
 .<entio»i was exclusively fixed on the means of 
 repknishing it. He persisted in considering the 
 crisis as financial, when in truth it was social; 
 as arising from embarrassments of government, 
 when it really sprung from the growing impor- 
 tance of the people. He hoped to accommodate 
 his measures to the public exigencies, without 
 compromising or breaking with any party. He 
 was aware that the ancient system of govern- 
 ment could not be maintained, but he trusted 
 that the divisions in the political parties would 
 enable him to repair the machine without de- 
 stroying it. By so doing he lost the confidence 
 of all. Conciliator^' measures are admirable 
 when they are founded on reforms which remove 
 a practical evil; they are ruinous when they 
 proceed on a balance of mutual jealousies, or a 
 blind concession to popular menaces, and irri- 
 tate all without attaching any.t 
 
 Liberty and equality were the ideas predom- 
 inant in the mind of the whole third es- 
 tate, and of that large party of the cler- ^l^^" ^'"^ 
 gy who, emanating from its ranks, 
 were identified with its interests. EauALiTT 
 was the great object of their ambition, because 
 the distinctions of rank were the evil which oc- 
 casioned their discontents. It was not so much 
 absolute freedom which they coveted as equali- 
 ty of restraint, and the repeal of all those laws 
 which threw their fetters with undue severity 
 upon the lower classes. They would rather 
 have had seiTitude in common Avith the privi- 
 leged ranks, than freedom accompanied with 
 those privileges which drew an impassable line 
 between them. The passion for distinction, as 
 Napoleon afterward observed, is the ruling prin- 
 ciple in France ; equality was demanded be- 
 cause it promised to remove the load which de- 
 pressed the buoyant ambition of the middling 
 and lower orders of society.! 
 
 * Lac., Pr. Hist., i., 32. Th., i., 31, 44. t Mig., i., 35. 
 tRiv., 37, 48. Lac., i., 32. Nap. in Duchess of Abran- 
 tes, vii., 259, 270. 
 
HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IU. 
 
 The greater part of 'the nobles were naturally 
 Views of desirous of maintaining the privileges 
 the nobles which they inherited from their fore- 
 and high- fathers, and regarded as essential to 
 er clergy, fjjg existence of government in mod- 
 em times. Their interests in this, as in most 
 other cases, determined their inclinations, and 
 they were resolved to resist any innovations 
 which threatened to subvert their exclusive ad- 
 vantages. Tlie higher classes of the clergy 
 shared the sentiments of the noble families from 
 which they sprung, and were equally anxious to 
 maintain the privileges from which they derived 
 advantage ; but the great body of the undignified 
 ecclesiastics, who were indignant at their exclu- 
 sion from all situations of consideration or emol- 
 ument in ttie Church, participated in the feelings 
 of the third estate, with whom they were more 
 immediately in contact, and might'be expected, 
 on any serious struggle, to join their ranks.* 
 
 Taken as a body, the clergy had supported all 
 the efforts of the people for the establishment of 
 their liberties. The vast proportion of their 
 numbers, who were humble cures, destitute of 
 any property, was a sufficient st^.urity that this 
 would be the case. They had urged the con- 
 vocation of the Stales-General; the clergy of 
 Rheims, with their archbishop a^. their heati, de- 
 manded, in their instructions to their represent- 
 atives, the establishment of a national code 
 containing the fundamental laws of fjie moa! 
 archy, the regular- assembly of the States-Gen- 
 eral, the right of taxing themselves, the estab- 
 lishment of personal freedom, security to proj)- 
 erty, the responsibility of ministers, open eligi- 
 bility of all the citizens to all employments, a 
 new civil and military code, uniformity of 
 weights and measures, and the abolition of the 
 slave-trade. All the other instructions of the 
 clergy to their representatives contained more or 
 less the same sentiments. It was at a later pe- 
 riod in the Revolution, and in consequence of 
 the treachery- and injustice with which they were 
 assailed, that this great body became the lasting 
 and inveterate enemy of the Revolution.t 
 
 The king, who had never tasted one moment 
 The king's of repose since his accession to the 
 opinion on throne, had been induced, by fmancial 
 the subject, embarrassments, to convoke the States- 
 General, and looked fonvard to their assembling 
 as the termination of his difficulties. He, in 
 truth, loved his people, and expected to meet 
 their representatives with the tenderness of a pa- 
 rent who rejoins his long-lost children. He be- 
 lieved himself beloved, because he deserved to 
 be so. Unhappily, it was the fashion to laugh 
 at the idea of a revolution ; reposing under the 
 shadow of the monarchy, men shut their eyes to 
 the possibility of its overthi'ow, and deemed" pres- 
 ent institutions stable because they had never 
 seen them shaken. They had yet to learn that 
 no reliance is to be placed on the affections of 
 mankind when their interests are at stake ; that 
 the force of ancient recollections, .strong in pe- 
 riods of tranquillity, is frequently lost in moments 
 of danger; and that attachment to old institutions 
 is powerful only in those who have shared in 
 their protection.t 
 
 M. Neckar had adopted two principles very 
 generally received at that period, but of which 
 subsequent experience has amply demonstrated 
 the fallacy ; viz., that public opinion is always 
 
 * Riv., 8. Lac. vii.. 9, 10, 11. 
 
 t Chateaubriand, xii., 344. Burke, v., 99. 
 
 t Lac., Vii., 9. Th., i., 41. 
 
 on the side of wisdom and virtue, and that he 
 could at pleasure sway its impulses.* The prin- 
 ciple, vox populi vox Dei. doubtful at all times, is 
 totally misplaced in periods of agitation, when 
 the passions are let loose, and the ambition of 
 the reckless is awalcened by the possibility of 
 elevation. Public opinion, in the end, will al- 
 ways incline to the right side ; but in the vio- 
 lence of its previous oscillations, the whole fab- 
 ric of society may be overthrown. The mariner 
 who descries a coming storm may with certain- 
 ty predict that its fury will ultimately be stilled, 
 but he cannot be sure that his vessel will not 
 previously be sunk in the waves. 
 
 Proceeding on this principle, M. Neckar adopt- 
 ed the measure already mentioned, Xeckar's dupU- 
 wliich was productive of more dis- cation of the 
 astrous consequences than any sin- '^'«" Etat. 
 gle step in the whole histon,- of the Revolution — 
 the duplication of the number of deputies from 
 the Tiers Etat.t 
 
 This decisive step was not taken without the 
 most violent opposition on the part ^,^1^^^ 
 of the privileged classes. 1 hey at sition from the 
 once perceived that this great in- nobles and the 
 crease in the numbers of the third ("lergy. 
 estate more than doubled theii" influence in the 
 assembly, and the most violent discontents 
 were excited in all parts of France by so unex- 
 pected a measure in their favour. The prelates 
 and dignified clerg}' felt the utmost disquietude 
 at the number of cures and ecclesiastics of infe- 
 ^''or rank who attended them as members of the 
 SteJes-General. It was evident, from their con- 
 versation, habits, and maimers, that they partici- 
 pated W the feelings of the Tiers Etat, with 
 whom tir>y lived in constant commimication ; 
 and that t;.o unjust exclusion of the middling 
 ranks from tt^ dignities and emoluments of the 
 Church had excited as much dissatisfaction in 
 the ecclesiastical "lasses as the invidious privi- 
 leges of the nobl<is:e had awakened in the lai- 
 ty.: Their subseq-atnt junction gave the popu- 
 lar party an undisputed aacendencv in the as- 
 sembly. It is by the union of the Church and 
 the throne that political instiiuions acquire sta- 
 bility ; it was by their separation that they were 
 overturned in France. 
 
 But it was not merely by the dcplhation of the 
 Tiers Etat that Neckar prepared ihe overthrow 
 of the monarchy. Effects not less pi»ju^icial re- 
 sulted from the extraordinar)- laxity vhi-h v/as 
 observed in the formation of the Electoral As- 
 semblies. The king had invited the whole citi- 
 zens, in benevolent and touching terms, to cui- 
 cur in the choice of representatives,! ana no 
 
 * Lac, vii., 8, 9. De St.ie!, i., 280. 
 
 tRiv., 7. Lac, vii., 9. Mig., i., 23. 
 
 t Riv., 9. Th., i., 29. Lac, vii., 9. 
 
 I) The circular calling together the States-General bore, 
 " We have need of the concourse of our faithful subjects 
 to aid us in surmounting the difficulties arising from the 
 state of the finances, and establishing, in conformity with 
 our most ardent desire, a durable order in the parts of gov- 
 ernment which affect the public welfare. We wish that 
 the three estates should confer together on the matters 
 which will be submitted to their e.vamination : they will 
 make known to us the wishes and giievanccs of the people 
 in such a way that, by'a mutual confidence, and exchange 
 of kind offices between the king and people, the public evils 
 should as ra|)idly as possil.le be remedied. For this purpose 
 we enjoin and command that, immediately on the receipt of 
 this lelter, you yiroceed to elect deputies of the three orders 
 worthy of confidence from their virtues and the spirit with 
 which they are animated : that the deputies should be fur- 
 nished with powers and instructions sufficient to enable 
 them to attend to all the concerns of the si ate, and introduce 
 such remedies as shall be deemed advisable for the reform 
 of abuses, and the establishment of a fixed and durable or- 
 
1780.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 69 
 
 restriction whatever was imposed on the persons i mons, liberation from every species of restraint, 
 
 who were to concur in the Primary Assemblies, and boundless felicitj- from the prospects which 
 
 It was merely provided tliat they were to choose would open to them in the new state of society 
 
 the electors, and that the choice of the represent- which was approaching. When hopes so chi- 
 
 atives .should devolve on the delegates thus merical are entertained by all classes of society 
 
 chosen, who were in no case to exceed two hun- and a chaos of unanimity is produced composed 
 
 dred in number in each bailiwick. Ui)ward of of such discordant interests, it may usually be 
 two millions of Frenchmen were admitted uirdcr | concluded tliat a i,'eneral infatuation has seized 
 
 this regulation to a privilege which substantially 
 amounted to the power of choosing representa- 
 tives ; lor the electors were nothing but delegates, 
 who in every instance obeyed the directions of 
 their constituents. Finally, this immense body 
 were intrusted with the importaiit privilege of 
 drawing up cahicrs, or directions to their constit- 
 uents in regard to the conduct they were to pur- 
 sue on all the great questions which were to 
 come before them.* These cahiers were abso- 
 lute mandates, whicli tiie representatives bound 
 themselves by a solemn oath to observe faith- 
 fully, and support to the utmost of theii' ability. t 
 Nor was this all. Not content with establish- 
 ing an electoral system, which amounted almost 
 to universal sufliage, and pennitting these nu- 
 merous electors to bind their representatives a 
 priori by absolute mandates on all the questions 
 which might occur, Neckar imposed no restraint 
 whatever on the persons who were to be chosen 
 as representatives. Neither property, nor age, 
 nor marriage were required as qualifications. 
 Ever)' Frenchman of twenty-five years of age, 
 domiciled in a canton, who paid the smallest 
 sum in taxes, was declared eligible. The conse- 
 quences were disastrous in the extreme. Youths 
 hardly escaped from school ; laA\yers unalile to 
 cam a livelihood in their villages ; cm-ates bare- 
 ly elevated either in income or knowledge above 
 their humble flocks ; physicians destitute of pa- 
 tients ; baiTisters without briefs ; the ardent, the 
 needy, the profligate, tlie ambitious, were at once 
 %'^omited forth from all quarters to co-operate in 
 the reconstniction of the monarchy. Very ie-w, 
 indeed, of the assembly were possessed of any 
 property, fewer still of any knowledge. The 
 only restraints on human passion — knowledge, 
 age, property, and children — were wanting in 
 the great majority of its members ; they consist- 
 ed ahnost entirely of ardent youths, who already 
 thought themselves equal to Cicero, Brutus, or 
 Demosthenes, or were resolutely bent on making 
 their fortunes : they were elected by almost uni- 
 versal suff"ragc, and subjected to the most rigor- 
 ous mandates from a numerous and ignorant 
 constituency. And yet from such a body all 
 classes in France, with a few individual excep- 
 tions, expected a deliverance from the evils or 
 difficulties with which they were sun'ounded, 
 and a complete regeneration of societ)'. The 
 king, the ministers, and the courtiers anticipa- 
 ted a liberation from tlie vexatious opposition of 
 the parliaments, and more ready submission 
 from a body of men who were thought to be so 
 ill calculated to combine as the Tiers Etat ; the 
 nobles, a restoration of order to the finances, and 
 emancipation from the public diificulties by the 
 confiscation of the Church property; the com- 
 
 der ill all parts of the government, worthy of the paternal 
 affections of the king- and of the resolutions of so noble an 
 assembly."— Calonne, 315 ; Lab., ii., 335. 
 
 * The collection of these cahiers, in thirty-six volumes 
 folio, is the most interesting- and authentic monument -which 
 exists of the p:rievancps which led to the Revolution. An 
 abstract of this immense record has been published by 
 Prudhomme, in three vols. 8vo ; another by Grille, in two 
 vols. 8vo. 
 
 t Lab.ii., 336, 339. 
 
 the public mind, and that great national calami- 
 ties arc at hand.* 
 
 The prelates sounded the alann in the strong- 
 est terms on this portentous state of x, , , , 
 ,, . mi . ^ ^ c • ,- ■ Remarkable 
 
 thmgs. Ihe torrent ot irreligious prophecy of 
 opinions with which France had late- Beau Re- 
 ly been deluged, had awakened a gen- f"\^^y 
 eral belief among the reflecting part of ' ^ 
 the community that some terrible national ca- 
 tastrophe was at hand. The ex-Jesuit Beau Re- 
 gard, when preaching before the court in Lent, 
 pronounced, with an emphatic voice, the.se re- 
 markable words, which subsequent events ren- 
 dered prophetic : " Yes ! thy temples, O Lord, 
 shall be destroyed ; thy worship abolished ; thy 
 name blasphemed. But what do I hear, great 
 God ! to the holy strains, wliich beneath sacred 
 roofs arose in thy praise, shall succeed profane 
 and licentious songs ; the infamous rites of Ve- 
 nus shall usuip the place of the worship of the 
 Most High ; and she herself sit on the throne of 
 the Holy of Holies, to receive the incense of her 
 new adorers. "t Who could have imagined that 
 this was literallv to be accomplished in four 
 years, within the cathedial walls of Notre Dame! 
 The Tiers Etat numljered among its membei-s 
 a great proportion of the talent, and Compositioa 
 almost all the energy of France, of the Tiers 
 The leading members of the bar, of E'^*'- 
 the mercantile and medical classes, many of the 
 ablest of the clergy, and almost all the delegates 
 of the towns, were to he found in its ranks. 
 
 The bulk of the nation, even at Paris, looked 
 forward to the States-General as a means of di- 
 minishing the imposts ; the nobility hoped it 
 would prove the means of re-establishing the 
 finances, and putting an end to the vexatious 
 parsimony of later years ; the citizens trusted it 
 would remove the galling fetters to which they 
 were still subjected ; the fundholders, who had 
 so often sufiered from a breach of public faith, 
 regarded it as a secure ram]:)art against a nation- 
 al bankniptcy: an event which the magnitude 
 of the deficit had led them seriously to appre- 
 hend. All classes were unaiiimous in favour 
 of a change from which all were equally des- 
 tined to sutfer.l 
 
 All who were conscious of talents which were 
 unworthily depressed, who sought after distinc- 
 tion which the existing order of society prevent- 
 etl them from obtaining, or who had acquired 
 wealth without obtaining consideration, joined 
 themselves to the disaffected. To those were 
 added the unsettled spirits M'hich the prospect of 
 approaching disturbances always brings forth, 
 the reckless, the ardent, the desperate ; men who 
 laboured under the subsisting state of society, 
 and hoped that any change would ameliorate 
 their condition. A proportion of the nobles also 
 adhered to their principles, at the head of whom 
 were the Duke of Orleans, who brought a prince- 
 ly fortune, a selfish heart, and depraved habits, 
 to forward the work of corruption, but wanted 
 steadiness to rule the faction which his prodigal- 
 
 * Lab., ii., 337. 350, 351. 
 
 t Dumont, i., 38. 
 
 t Lac., Tii, II. 
 
TO 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 ity had created, and the Marquis La Fayette, i 
 who had nursed a republican spirit amid Amer- 
 ican dangers, and brought to the strife of iiee- 
 dom in the Old World ilie ardent desires which 
 had been awakened by its triumph in the New. 
 The Counts Clermont Tonnerre and Lally Tol- 
 lendal also were attached to the same principles ; 
 the Duke de la Rochefoucault, and the Duke de 
 Liancourt, the Marquis de Crillon, and the Vis- 
 count Montmorency, names long celebrated in 
 the annals of French glory, and some of which 
 ■were destined to acquire a fatal celebrity from 
 the misfortunes of those who bore them.* A 
 portentous union of rank, talent, and energy ! 
 of much which the aristocracy could produce 
 that was generous, with all that the Commons 
 could furnish that was eminent; of philosophic 
 enthusiasm with plebeian audacity ; of the vig- 
 our of rising ability with the weight of antiqua- 
 ted splendour. 
 
 Two circumstances, however, were remarka- 
 ble in the composition of the Constituent As- 
 sembly, and contributed, in a great degree, to in- 
 fluence its future proceedings. 
 
 The first was the almost total exclusion of lit- 
 Absence of ^rary and philosophical talent, and the 
 philosophers cxtraordinar)' preponderance of the le- 
 and literary gal profession. With the exception 
 ™*°- of Bailly, and one or two other illus- 
 
 trious individuals, "no name of celebrity was to 
 be found among its members. On the other 
 hand, no less than 279 of the Tiers Etat were 
 advocates, chiefly from the provincial couits of 
 France.t This class did not correspond to the 
 barristers of England, who, although not in gen- 
 eral men of property, are at lea.st possessed of 
 talent and information, but were provincial ad- 
 vocates, stewards of petty local jurisdictions, 
 country attorneys, notaries, and the whole train 
 of the ministers of municipal litigation, the fo- 
 menters of petty war and village vexation. 
 " From the moment," says Mr. Burke, " that I 
 read a list of their names, and saw this, I fore- 
 saw distinctly, and verj' nearly as it happened, 
 all that was to follow \"t This fact is not sur- 
 
 E rising when it is considered, on the one hand, 
 ow few of the electors were capable of appre- 
 ciating the merits of scientific characters, in a 
 country where not one in fifty could read ;§ and, 
 on the other, how closely the necessities of men 
 brought them everywhere in contact with that 
 enterprising and restless body which lived upon 
 their divisions. The absence of the philoso- 
 phers is not much to be regretted, as, with a few 
 splendid exceptions, they seldom make good 
 practical statesmen ; but the multitude of law- 
 yers turned out an evil of the first magnitude, 
 possessing, as they did, talent M'ithout property, 
 and the desire of distinction without the princi- 
 ples which should regulate it. The worst char- 
 acters in the Revolution — Robespierre, Danton, 
 and almost all their associates — sprung from 
 that class. 
 
 The second was the great proportion of the 
 Tiers Etat, who were men of no property or 
 consideration in the countrj', mere needy adven- 
 turers, who pushed themselves into the Estates 
 in order to make their fortune amid the public 
 convulsions which were anticipated. 
 l^Z£f^t The leading men of the banking and 
 commercial interest were indeed mem- 
 
 bers of this body, and took a pride in being con- 
 sidered its head ; but their numbers were incon- 
 siderable, compared with those of their needy 
 brethren, and their talents not sufficient to ena- 
 ble them to maintain an ascendency. When 
 the contest began, they were speedily supplanted 
 by the clamorous and reckless adventurers, who 
 aimed at nothing but public confusion. France, 
 on this occasion, paid the penalty of her unjust 
 and invidious feudal distinctions; the class was 
 wanting, so well known in England, which, nom- 
 inally belonging to the Commons, is bound to 
 the Peers by similarity of situation and commu- 
 nity of interest ; which forms the link between 
 the aristocracy and the people, and moderates 
 the pride of the former by their firmness, and the 
 turbulence of the latter by their authority.*t 
 
 The aristocratic party perceiving with dismay 
 that the Tiers Etat composed a half of Efforts to 
 the whole deputies of France, spared sway the 
 no effort to secure the support of the Assembly, 
 nobles and the clergj'. Everj'thing, it was evi- 
 dent, would depend on their fidelity ; a commit- 
 tee of the leaders was held at the hotel of the 
 Countess of Polignac, the head of an ill-fated 
 though generous and devoted family, from whom 
 the royal cause suffered as much in the com- 
 mencement as in the close of the Revolution. 
 The plan arranged by them was to prevent every- 
 thing by conceding nothing ; to control Paris by 
 means of the army, the Tiers Etat by the influ- 
 ence of the nobility, and the clergy by the hopes 
 of preferment. Ever)-thing Avas regulated by 
 the precedent of the last meeting of the States- 
 General ; they forgot that nearly two centuries 
 had since intervened, and that 1789 was not 
 1614.t 
 
 Towards the maintenance of this system, or, 
 
 proprietors. 
 
 * Lac, vii., 20. 
 
 t The Constituent Assembly was composed of 1128 per- 
 sons, of whom about two thirds were non-proprietors. They 
 were arranged in the following manner : 
 
 Clergy. NoblM. 
 
 Archbishops and bishops 48 Prince of the Blood 1 
 
 Abbots and canons 35 Magistrates 28 
 
 Curates 210 Gentilhomraes 241 
 
 293 no 
 
 Tiers Etat. 
 
 EcclesiastiCJ? 2 
 
 Gentilhommes 12 
 
 Mayors 18 
 
 Ma^stratcs 62 
 
 Lawyers 279 
 
 Physicians 16 
 
 Merchants, farmers, &c 176 
 
 Nobles and Clergy 563.— Tiers Etat 565 
 
 After the assembly v/as united and the parties were di- 
 vided, they stood thus : 
 
 Cote Droit, Royalists. 
 Archbishops and bishops 39 
 
 Abbots and canons 25 
 
 Curates 10 
 
 Nobles 180 
 
 Cote G«ucbe, Democrats. 
 
 Prince of the Blood I 
 
 Lawyers 160 
 
 Curates 80 
 
 Gentilliommes 55 
 
 * Lac., vii., 13, 15. Dumont, 38. Th., i., 41. 
 
 t Lac, vii., 15 ; v., 93. 
 
 t Burke, Fr. Rev., Works, vi., 117. 
 
 () Young's Travels, i., 384. 
 
 Magistrates 10 Merchants, fanners, &c. 30 
 
 Lawyers 18 
 
 Farmers 40 326 
 
 322 
 Centre or undecided. 
 
 Clergy 140 
 
 Nobles 20 
 
 Magistrates 9 
 
 Lawyers 101 
 
 Tiers Etat 210 
 
 480 
 
 Thus the C6t6 Gauche, which ultimately obtained the 
 command of the assembly and France, was at first less than 
 a third of its number. 
 
 t Mig., 1., 36, 37. 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 71 
 
 indeed, the establishment of anythinj^ like rejru- 
 lated lieedoin, it was indispensable that the dif- 
 ferent orders should meet apart from each other, 
 and that each should have a negative upon tlie 
 measures proposed by the other; because the 
 great numbers of the Commons, who were all 
 united, gave them a decided preponderance in 
 voting over the other orders, a considerable por- 
 tion of whom, especially the clergy, were al- 
 ready disposed to join the popular cause. Tlie 
 plan of Neckar, accordingly, was to form the 
 states into two chambers, the one composed of 
 the nobles and clergy, the other of the Tiers 
 Etat — similar to the House of Lords and Com- 
 mons in England.* Had this plan been steadily 
 adhered to, or been practicable in the excited 
 state of the country, what a multitude of calam- 
 ities would have beea spared to France and to 
 Europe! 
 
 On the day following the opening of the States- 
 Tiers Etat ' tJeneral, the noblesse and the clergy 
 insist for constituted themselves in their re- 
 
 onc Assembly, spective chambers, while the Com- 
 May6, 1789. j^ons, to whom, on account of their 
 numbers, the general hall of meeting had been 
 assigned, met, and there waited, or pretended to 
 •wait, for the other orders. The contest was now 
 openly engaged in; the deputies of the Commons 
 alleged that they could not verify their powers 
 till they were joined by the whole Estates, while 
 the clergy and nobles had already verified theirs 
 in their chambers apart, and were ready to be- 
 gin business. For several weeks they daily met 
 in the great hall, and vainly waited for the ac- 
 cession of the other orders. They attempted 
 nothing, but simply trasted to the force of inactiv- 
 ity to compel the submission of their opponents. + 
 
 It was soon evident that this state of things 
 Completely could not long continue. The refu- 
 stops the pub- sal of the Commons to constitute 
 lie business, themselves formed a complete stop- 
 page to every sort of business, while the urgent 
 state of the finances and the rapidly-increasing 
 anarchy of the kingdom loudly called for imme- 
 diate measures. Meanwhile the firmness of the 
 Third Estate occasioned the utmost agitation in 
 Paris, and crowds of all classes daily came to 
 Versailles to encourage the members in their 
 courageous resistance to the measures of the 
 court.j 
 
 In this contest the advantage e-vidently lay on 
 Violent con- the side of the Commons. The state 
 test between of the finances rendered it absolutelv 
 the parties, necessary that the States-General 
 should commence their labours ; their dissolu- 
 tion, therefore, was not to be apprehended. On 
 the other hand, by simply remaining in a state 
 of inactivity, they did nothing which could ap- 
 parently justify harsh measures, and there was 
 eveiy reason to believe that they would ultimate- 
 ly weaiy out their antagonists. The force of 
 public opinion, alwaj's at first, in civil com- 
 motions, on the side of resistance, was daily 
 strengthening their cause. The agitation of the 
 capital was intimidating their adversaries, and 
 the divisions which prevailed among them ren- 
 dered it every hour more improbable that they 
 would be able to maintain their ground. The 
 commons were unanimous, while a considerable 
 portion of the nobility and the greater part of the 
 clergy, secretly inclined to their sidc.l 
 
 * Mig., i., 35. 
 
 + Lac, vii., 29. Mig., i., 37. Th., i., 45, 46, 49. 
 4 Th.,i., 50. 53. 
 4 Mig., i.,^7. Lac, vii., 30. Th., i., 52, 53. 
 
 During the discussion on this important sub- 
 ject, the clergy, who wished to bring about a re- 
 union of the orders without openly yielding to 
 the Commons, sent a deputation, headed by the 
 Archbishop of Aix, to make a pathetic appeal to 
 them on the miseries of the country people ; and 
 he concluded by making a proposal that some 
 deputies of the Commons should join a confer- 
 ence with a few of the clergy and nobles, on the 
 best means of assuaging their sufierings. The 
 Commons, who did not wish to yield anything, 
 and yet knew not how to decline such a propo- 
 sal without compromising themselves with the 
 people, were at a loss what answer to return, 
 when a young man, unknown to the assembly, 
 rose and said, " Go and tell your colleagues, 
 that if they are so impatient to assuage the suf- 
 ferings of the poor, let them come to this hall to 
 unite themselves with their friends ; tell them no 
 longer to retard our operations by aflected de- 
 lays : tell them it is vain to employ strata- 
 gems like this to induce us to alter our'finn res- 
 olutions. Rather let them, as worthy imitators 
 of their master, renounce a luxur}'^ which con- 
 sumes the funds of indigence ; dismiss those in- 
 solent lackeys who attend them; sell their su- 
 perb equipages, and convert these vile superflu- 
 ities into aliment for the poor." At this speech, 
 which so clearly expressed the passions of the 
 moment, a confused murmur of applause ran 
 through the assembly; every one asked who 
 was the young deputy who had so happily given 
 vent to the public feeling. His name afterward 
 made every man in France tremble : it was 
 Maximilien Robespierre.* 
 
 At this critical period, the measures of the 
 court were not conducted with the 
 firmness which the circumstances thTcourt."^ 
 required. Neckar had not resolu- 
 tion enough to carry through the only plan which 
 promised security, that of uniting the clergy and 
 nobles in one chamber, and the Commons in an- 
 other. He did not venture to propose it to the 
 Tiers Etat, because it would have endangered 
 his popularity, nor to press it on the king, be- 
 cause it had little chance of success. The crown 
 was not yet sufficiently humbled to descend to 
 the restrictions of a limited monarchy. Thus, 
 by wishing to avoid breaking with either party, 
 he lost the confidence of both, and pursued the 
 system of temporization, of all others, in civil 
 con\'ulsions, the most ruinous.t 
 
 It is not the least remarkable of the circum- 
 stances of that eventful period, that the higher 
 classes of the noblesse were nearly unanimous 
 in resisting their combination with the clergy 
 into a separate chamber. They were all averse 
 to any union with so mixed a body as the clergy- 
 had now become, comprising not less than a 
 hundred curis of plebeian extraction; and those 
 bearing historic names were still more unwilling 
 to become blended with the new nobility, whom 
 they regarded as little better than titled roturiers. 
 The excessive jealousy which the old nobility 
 entertained both for the rural or campagimrd no- 
 blesse, and those who had recently acquired ti- 
 tles, was one of the great causes which prevent- 
 ed any effectual resistance being opposed to the 
 Revolution. Thus, by a strange fatalit}^ the re- 
 sult of inexperienced pride, the two orders in the 
 state, whose existence was at stake on such a 
 union, were most averse to form it. The fonna- 
 
 * Dumont, 61. Th., i., 48, 49. 
 t Lac, vu., 31, 32. Mig., 31, 38. 
 
72 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 tion of two separate chambers was rendered im- 
 possible, because no one, not even those whose 
 existence depended on promoting the junction, 
 supported it.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the pretensions of the Commons 
 hourly increased with the indecision of their ad- 
 versaries. It was no longer a question whether 
 they should, of their own authority, constitute 
 themselves the representatives of the nation ; the 
 only doubt was, what title they should assume. 
 The moderate party proposed that they should 
 be called the Commons of France, indicating by 
 that expression their bias towards the English 
 Constitution. The Abbe Sieyest supported the 
 wishes of the democrats, by contrasting the num- 
 ber of their constituents with those of the privi- 
 leged orders. " The Chamber of Nobles," said 
 _,, _,. he, " represents 159,000 individuals, 
 
 Etat tak? the ^"^^l we 25,000,000. If we yield, it 
 name of Na- is Subjecting twenty-five millions to 
 tional Asseni- the voke of a few thousands of the 
 1789 ^^' Pri^'ilesed orders." The contest, 
 
 M'hich lasted till past midnight, was 
 conducted with the utmost vehemence ; the cries 
 of the opposite parties droAnied the voice of the 
 speakers ; the wind blew with terrific violence, 
 and rattled the windows, as if the edifice in 
 which they were sitting was about to fall. But 
 Bailly, the president, remained immovable, and 
 the minority, wearied with a fruitless opposition, 
 retired at one in the morning, leaving the assem- 
 bly in the hands of the popular party. It was 
 then resolved, by a majority of 491 to 90, to as- 
 sume the title of National Assembly, and inti- 
 mation was sent to the other orders that they 
 would proceed to constitute themselves, with or 
 without their adherence, which they immediate- 
 ly afterward did, by that dignified appellation. 
 By the assumption of this title, the Tiers Etat 
 openly evinced their determination to erect them- 
 selves into a sovereign power, and, like the Long 
 June 17 1789 Parliament of Charles I., disregard 
 ' ' ■ alike the tlirone and the nobility.; 
 The aristocrat ical party were thunderstruck 
 by this measure, but they possessed 
 Uieuobles 'I'^ither abilities, firmness, nor imion 
 sufficient to counteract its influence. 
 The Marquis de Montesquieu proposed the 
 only rational course, which was, that, to coun- 
 terbalance this stretch of power by the Com- 
 mons, the nobles and clergy should address the 
 king to constitute them into an Upper Chamber; 
 but they wanted resolution enough to adopt it. 
 The Duke of Luxembourg, the Cardinal Roche- 
 foucault, and the Archbishop of Paris, besought 
 the king to adopt vigorous measures, and sup- 
 port their orders against the usurpation of the 
 Commons, but in vain. The nobility were di- 
 vided, the court vacillating. Decision belonged 
 alone to the Commons, and they, in consequence, 
 speedily obtained the whole power of the state.§ 
 The next step of the Tiers Etat was to declare 
 
 * Mad. de StaEl, i., 196. Th., i., 145. Burke, v., 253. 
 
 t Dumont meutions a singular instance of the absurd and 
 perilous vanity with which the leaders of the assembly re- 
 garded their political acquirements. When walking with 
 Talleyrand and Sieves, the latter, growing communicative 
 as to his labours, at last said, " Politics is a science which 
 I think 7 have brought to perfection." Had he possessed, he 
 justly obserres, the least idea of the slow progress and ex- 
 cessive intricacy of that most difficult science, he would 
 never have held such language. Presumption in that branch, 
 as in every other, is the result of ignorance.* 
 
 i Mig., i., 39. Lac, vii., 32, 35. Th., i., 56, 57. 
 
 t) Mig., i., 39. Th., i., 60. Lac, vii., 39. 
 
 * Dumont, 64. 
 
 all imposts illegal, except those voted by them- 
 selves, or during the period when they were sit- 
 ting. At the same time, the fears of the capital- 
 ists were tranquillized by consolidating the pub- 
 lic debt, and the alann of the people allayed by 
 the appointment of a committee to watch over 
 the public subsistence.* 
 
 No language can describe the enthusiasm 
 which these decisive measures ex- Enthusiasm 
 cited throughout all France. Tears over the coun- 
 of joy were shed when the iutelli- try on this 
 gence was received in the provinces. e™»t- 
 "A single day," it was said, "has destroyed 
 eight hundred years of prejudice and slavery. 
 The nation has recovered its rights, and reason 
 resumed its sway." But the more thoughtful 
 trembled at the consequences of such gigantic 
 steps: '-Not only," said they, "are the noblesse 
 and the clergy set aside, usage disregarded, rights 
 abolished, but the authority of the throne itself 
 is undermined.t In England a balance is pre- 
 served between the three estates, but here th3 
 National Assembly has swallowed up every- 
 thing." 
 
 To meet these increasing dangers, M. Neckar 
 was preparing the plan of a constitu- ^^cVar 
 tion calculated to satisfy all classes, proposes a 
 and tranquillize the public mind. His mixed con- 
 measures would have formed a gov- ^titution. 
 ernment very similar to the limited monarchy 
 in England; and such as, ingrafted on feudal 
 institutions, offered the fairest prospect of sta- 
 bility. He proposed that the whole represent- 
 ation of the nation should vote together in mat- 
 ters of taxation, but by orders in questions of 
 individual rights or privileges; and that here- 
 after the States-General should meet in separate 
 chambers. But the nobles had now gained an 
 ascendency over the mind of the king, and more 
 violent measures than he approved were resolved 
 on by the court. It was determined to close the 
 hall of the Tiers Etat until the 23d Jtme, when 
 the king in person was to announce his inten- 
 tions to the assembled Estates. The object of 
 this measure was to prevent the Tiers Etat from 
 acquiring an accession of influence by the junc- 
 tion of a large body of the clergy and a consider- 
 able portion of the nobility, who were known to 
 be wavering ; but its consequences were, to the 
 last degree, fatal to the interests of France.j 
 
 On the 20th June, the heralds-at-arms in Ver- 
 sailles proclaimed that the king would meet the . 
 Estates on the 23d, and on the same day the 
 doors of the hall of the States-General were clo- 
 sed by grenadiers of the guard to the deputies of 
 the Commons. This step was certainly unfortu- 
 nate ; it announced hostile intentions without 
 explaining them, and irritated the deputies with- 
 out subduing them. Bailly, the president of the 
 assembly, went in form to the doors, and finding 
 them closed by orders of the king, he protested 
 against the despotic violence of the crown, and 
 instantly repaired, with the assembled deputies, 
 attended by an immense crowd of spectators, to 
 an adjoining tennis-court, where the following 
 oath was immediately tendered to the deputies, 
 and first taken by Bailly himself: " The Nation- 
 al Assembly, considering that they Tennis-court 
 have been convoked to fix the con- oath, June 20, 
 stitution of the kingdom, to regener- l"^^- 
 ate the public order, and fix the true principles 
 of the monarchy ; that nothing can prevent them 
 
 * Mig., i., 39. Riv., 17. Th , i.. 59. t Riv., 18. 
 
 t Mig., i., 40,41. Lac, vii., 37, 38. De Stael, Fr. Rev., 
 i., 37. Th.,i., 61,62. 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 73 
 
 from continuing their deliberations, and comple- 
 ting the important work committed to their 
 charge; and that, wherever their members are 
 assembled, there is the National Assembly of 
 France, decree, that all the members now assem- 
 bled shall instantly take an oath never to sep- 
 arate ; and, if dispersed, to reassemble wherever 
 they can, until the constitution of the kingdom 
 and the regeneration of the public order are es- 
 tablished on a solid basis; and that this oath, 
 taken by all and each singly, shall be confirmeil 
 by the signature of every member, in token of 
 their unshakable resolution."* 
 
 The court, on this occasion, committed a capi- 
 tal error in not making the royalist or constitu- 
 tional party in the assembly acquainted with 
 their intentions, and preventing that unanimity 
 which necessarily arose from the appearance of 
 measures of coercion, without any knowledge of 
 their object. The consequence was, that the 
 most moderate members, apprehensive of the 
 crown, and alarmed at the apparatus of mili- 
 tary force directed against the assembly, joined 
 the violent democrats, and the oath was taken, 
 with the exception of one courageous deputy, 
 unanimously. This decisive step committed the 
 whole assembly in a contest with the government ; 
 the minds of the deputies were exasperated by 
 the apprehended violence, and the oath formed a 
 secret bond of association among numbers who, 
 but for it, would have been violently opposed to 
 each other. Mirabeau, in particular, whose 
 leaning from the beginning was as much to- 
 wards the aristocracy as was consistent with a 
 popular leader, openly expressed, at a subse- 
 quent period, his dissatisfaction at not having 
 been made acquainted with the real designs of 
 the king. "Was there no one," said he, " in the 
 assembly whom they could make acquainted 
 with their designs ? It is thus that kings are 
 led to the scaffold !"t 
 
 This step was followed on the 22d by an im- 
 148 of the portant accession of strength. On that 
 clergy join day the assembly met in the church 
 the Tiers of St. Louis, as the tennis-court had 
 ^'*'' been closed by order of the princes 
 
 to whom it belonged ; and they were here joined 
 by 148 of the clergy, who participated in their 
 feelings, and were resolved to share their dan- 
 gers. This great re-enforcement was headed by 
 the Archbishop of Vienne, the Archbishop of 
 Bordeaux, and the Bishop of Chartres. They 
 were received with transports of joy and tears of 
 gratitude by the Commons, who thus acquired a 
 decided preponderance. By this junction, their 
 majority over the other orders became so great, 
 that the victory of the Commons, if they contin- 
 ued in one assembly, was rendered apparent. 
 The spectacle of the union of the clergy with 
 their brethren of the Commons excited the most 
 lively transports, and they embraced each other 
 amid tears of joy.t Who could then have foreseen, 
 that in a few weeks the whole ecclesiastical body 
 were to be reduced to beggar}' by those who now 
 received them as deliverers, and that a clergy- 
 man could not appear in the streets without be- 
 ing exposed to the grossest insults ! Such is the 
 fate of those who think, by concessions dictated 
 by fear, to arrest the march of a revolution. 
 _ It is impossible to refuse a tribute of admira- 
 tion to those intrepid men, who, ti-ansported by 
 
 * Lac.,v)i.,39,41. Th., 63. 64. Riv., 19. Mi?., i. 41. 
 tRiv.,19. Mig.,i.,41. Lac, viu.ag. Dumont, 89, 97. 
 t Dumont, 90, 91. Migj., i., 42. Bailly, i., 203. Riv., 
 £0. Th., ... 74. 
 Vol. I.— K 
 
 a zeal for liberty and the love of their country, 
 ventured to take a step fraught with so many 
 dangers, and which, to all appearance, might 
 have brought many to prison or the scaffold. 
 Few situations can be imagined more dignified 
 than that of Bailly, crowning a life of scientific 
 labour with patriotic exertion, surrounded by an 
 admiring assembly, the idol of the people, the 
 admiration of Europe. But how vain are the 
 hopes of permanent elevation, founded on the 
 applause of the multitude ! Could the eye of 
 prophecy then have unveiled the future, it would 
 nave discovered this idol of the people shivering 
 on his face on the Champs de Mars, with hi.s 
 arms tied behind his back, and the guillotine 
 suspended over his head, condemned by the as- 
 sembly, execrated by the multitude, subjected to- 
 a cruel and prolonged punishment to gratify the 
 peculiar hatred and savage vengeance of the 
 populace, whom he now incurred these dangers 
 to support ! 
 
 The majority of the noblesse, upon hearing of 
 this decisive act on the part of the Commons, 
 which amounted, in effect, to a seizure of the 
 whole powers of the government, named a depu- 
 tation to lay their complaints at the foot of the 
 throne. A minority of forty-seven dissented 
 from this resolution, and shortly after openly es- 
 poused the cause of the Commons. In this num- 
 ber were to be found the greatest families and 
 ablest men in the French nobility ; the Duke of 
 Orleans, the Duke of Rochefoucault, the Duke 
 of Liancourt, Count Lally ToUendal, Clermont 
 Tonnerre, tlie two brothers Lameth, and the 
 Marquis La Fayette. They were almost all 
 guillotined, exiled, or ruined during the progress 
 of the Revolution ; a memorable example of the 
 inability of the higher ranks ultimately to coerce 
 a movement which they themselves put in mo- 
 tion, and of the futility of the idea, that no inno- 
 vations are dangerous if they are headed by the 
 greatest proprietors in the state.* 
 
 At length the famous sitting of the 23d June 
 took place. The king took his seat Koyal sitting 
 on the throne, surrounded by his of the 23d of 
 guards, and attended by the pomp J""*- 
 of the monarchy : he was received in sullen si- 
 lence. His discourse commenced by condemn- 
 ing the conduct of the Commons, and lamenting 
 the spirit of faction which had already made 
 such progress among the representatives of the 
 people, and was alike contrary to the interests 
 of the nation and the warmest wishes of his 
 heart. The declarations of the mon- Great an- 
 arch were then read. They first pre- cessions of 
 scribed the form of the meeting of the ^^^ '''"s- 
 Estates, and enacted their assemblage by three 
 orders, as essentially linked with the constitution 
 of the state: it regulated the form of their de- 
 liberations ; annulled the declarations of the 
 17th June by the Tiers Etat as contrary to lawj 
 reserved to the crown the right of regulating the 
 future meetings of the States-General, and closed 
 their deliberations against the public. The sec- 
 ond embraced an exposition of the rights which 
 the monarch conceded to his people, and they 
 contained the whole elements of rational free- 
 dom; in particular, he abolished the pecuniary 
 privileges, and exemption from taxation of the 
 nobles and clergy; put an end to the taille and 
 the impost of Franc fief; regulated the expenses 
 of the royal household ; provided for the con.soli- 
 dation of the public debt ; secured the liberty of 
 
 * Th., i., 65. 
 
74 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 the press; established the security of property 
 and of titles of honour; regulated the criminal 
 code, the personal freedom of the subject, and 
 provided for the maintenance of the public roads, 
 the equality of contributions, and the establish- 
 ment of provincial assemblies. With truth 
 could the monarch exclaim, " I may say, with- 
 out fear of self-deception, that never king did so 
 much for his subjects as I have done for mine; 
 but what other could so well deserve it as the 
 people of France!"* 
 
 These important concessions, which, if sup- 
 ported by proper vigour in the gov- 
 ^fact^n^*^' emment, might have stopped the Rev- 
 olution, had no etfect in allaying the 
 public discontents. The period was passed when 
 the language of moderation could be heard ; the 
 passions were roused, the populace excited; and 
 when does passion yield to reason, or the multi- 
 tude pause upon the acquisition of power 1 The 
 concluding words of the king had the air without 
 the reality of vigour ; they took from the grace 
 of the gilt without adding to the authority of the 
 giver. He menaced the deputies with his ven- 
 geance if they resisted; threatened to dissolve 
 them ; to carry on the work of reformation by 
 Ills own authority, and concluded by command- 
 ing them to dissolve, and meet on the following 
 day in their separate chambers. The clergy and 
 the nobles obeyed ; the commons remained alone 
 in the hall.t 
 
 The master of the ceremonies, upon this, en- 
 The commons tered the room, and reminded the 
 (refuse to members of the intentions of the 
 
 Jeave the hall. king. Mirabeau replied, '-Gentle- 
 men, I admit the concessions made by the king 
 would be sufficient for the public good, if the 
 presents of despotism were not always danger- 
 ous. What is the insolent dictatorship to which 
 you are subjected 1 Is this display of arms, 
 this violation of the national sanctuary, the 
 fitting accompaniment of a boon to the peo- 
 ple 1 Who prescribes these rules 1 Your man- 
 datory ; he who should receive your commands 
 instead of giving them to you. The Liberty 
 of deliberation is destroyed ; a military force 
 surrounds the assembly. I propose that, pro- 
 ceeding with becoming dignity, you act up to 
 your oath, and refuse to separate till you have 
 completed the constitution." Then, turning to 
 the master of the ceremonies, he continued, 
 *' Tell your master that we are here by the order 
 of the people, and that we will not be expelled 
 but at the point of the bayonet." " You are to- 
 day," said Sicyes, calmly, "what you were yes- 
 terday: let us proceed with our deliberations." 
 On the motion of Camus, they ratified all their 
 proceedings, and declared the persons of the 
 members inviolable.; 
 
 Considered in themselves, these concessions 
 ■were the greatest ever made by a king to his 
 subjects, and at any other time they would have 
 excited transports of gratitude ; but the passions 
 were roused ; democratic ambition was thor- 
 oughly awakened, and this conciliatory conduct 
 was only adding fuel to the flame. If a govern- 
 ment is powerful, whatever it gives is hailed 
 wuth gratitude as a gift ; if it is weak, its con- 
 cessions are considered as the discharge of a 
 debt, and tend only to rouse the popular party to 
 fresh demands. The Assembly had resolved to 
 become the National Assembly, and to rule 
 
 * Riv., 23, 24. Th., i., 67, 68. Lac, vii., 43. 
 
 fMig., i., 43. Lac, vii., 45. 
 
 t Lac, vii., 45. Mig., i., 4. Th., i., 68, 69. 
 
 France with a despotic authority ; anything less 
 than tills seemed unworthy of accejitance. For 
 the king to have made a show of resistance, and 
 done nothing to force it, announced an intention 
 to uphold the throne, and ended by yielding, 
 was literally an act of madness, which neces- 
 sarily led to the ruin of the monarchy.* 
 
 On that day the royal authority was annihi- 
 lated in France. The assembly had Royal au- 
 openly bid defiance to the mandates thontyover- 
 of the thi'one ; and public opinion thrown, 
 supported them in tlie attempt. The initiative 
 of laws, the moral influence arising from the 
 idea of supremacy, had passed from the crown 
 to the people. t 
 
 M. Neckar was not present at this memorable 
 meeting ; the evening before he had tendered 
 his resignation, which was not accepted, as the 
 measures adopted by the court were not such as 
 he thoroughly approved. He was discovered in 
 Versailles by the crowd, and conducted home 
 amid the loudest acclamations. By his con- 
 duct he had evinced the sincerity of his inten- 
 tions, and the disapproval of the measures of the 
 crown ; and he was, for a brief space, thence- 
 forward considered as the leader of the popular 
 party.i 
 
 On the following day, the Duke of Orleans 
 and forty-sLx members of the nobility jy^g 24 
 joined the Tiers Etat. They were 1789. The 
 received with transport ; but the duke I^^ke of Or- 
 experienced so much emotion at leav- "^ ^""^ , 
 ing the chamber of the hereditar}^ le- uobility join 
 gislation, that he fainted in rising the Tiei-s 
 from his seat. He was offered the E'^t. 
 chair of president, which he had the prudence to 
 refuse ; his object was the throne; but fate des- 
 tined him for the scaffold, and the revolutionary 
 sceptre for his less guilty descendants. § 
 
 The king, perceiving opposition fruitless, in- 
 timated his wish that the remainder 
 of the clergy and the nobility should y,efds"a^d 
 join the Tiers Etat. The nobles eujom's the 
 made an energetic remonstrance majority of 
 against this measure, and foretold '^'"' 1'°'''*^ '" 
 the fatal effects which would follow " * ''^""■'' 
 their being immersed in a body where their num- 
 bers were so inconsiderable compared to those 
 of their opponents. "Your majesty," jmjggn 
 said the Duke of Lu.xembourg, president, 
 "has everything to fear from a single assem- 
 bly, which has already evinced its violence by a 
 rash and illegal oath. If that assembly beholds 
 us arrive within its walls, what advantage will 
 it not derive from so signal a victory 1 what can 
 we expect from a body which has so often sworn 
 our ruin? Oiu- presence will increase its con- 
 sideration without diminishing its ambition. 
 Apart from the Tiers Etat, we form at least a 
 bamer against its fury; our position is doubt- 
 less full of dangers, but we will cheerfully face 
 them in defence of the throne." " No," exclaim- 
 ed the king, with emotion, " I cannot allow my 
 faithful nobles to engage in so unequal a struggle. 
 It is alike my wish and my duty to save them 
 from such manifest perils. My mind is made 
 up ; / icili not suffer a single fcrson to perish on my 
 acarjint. Tell tiie nobles that I entreat them to 
 unite with the other orders; if that is not suf- 
 ficient, as their sovereign I command them." 
 The order was obeyed; the nobles and clergy 
 joined the Tiers Etat, Avhere they were speedily 
 
 * Dumont, 87. t Mig., i., 44. Th., i., 74. 
 
 t Lac, vii., 47. Mi?., i., 44. Th., i., 70. 
 I) Lac, vi., 50. Mig., i., 44. Th., i., 7L 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORV OF EUROPE. 
 
 75 
 
 „_ lost in an overwhelming majority. The 
 June 2/. j^mjjanity of the king overturned the 
 throne.* 
 
 These events increased to an unparalleled de- 
 Immense ef- g^^^ the excitation of the public mind 
 lervescence in Paris. The young, the ardent, the 
 in Paris. visionary, believed a second age of 
 gold was arriving ; that the regeneration of the 
 social body would purify all its sins, extirpate 
 all its sutierings. The Palais Royal, recently 
 constructed at an immense expense by the Duke 
 of Orleans, was the centre of the agitation ; in 
 its splendid gardens the groups of the disalfected 
 were assembled ; under its gorgeous galleries the 
 democratical coflee-houses were to be found.t 
 It was amid the din of gambling and the glitter 
 of prostitution tliat liberty was nurtured in 
 France ; it must be owned, it could not have had 
 a cradle more impure. 
 
 Posterity will find it difficult to credit the fer- 
 mentation which then prevailed in the capital. 
 The enlightened, from a principle of patriotism; 
 the capitalists, from anxiety about their fortunes ; 
 the people, from the pressure of their necessi- 
 ties, which they expected immediately to find 
 relieved ; the shopkeepers, from ambition ; the 
 young, from enthusiasm ; the old, from appre- 
 hension : all were actuated by the most violent 
 emotions. Business was at a stand. Instead 
 of pursuing their usual avocations, multitudes 
 of all ranks filled the streets, anxiously discuss- 
 ing the public events, and crowding round every 
 one who had last arrived from Versailles. In 
 one depraved class the fever of revolution was 
 peculiarly powerful. The numerous body of 
 courtesans unanimously supported the popular 
 cause, and by the seduction ot their charms con- 
 tributed not a little to the defection of the mili- 
 tary, which shortly afterward took place.: 
 
 The regiment of the French guards, consist- 
 Revolt and ^'^S of three thousand six hundred 
 treason of men, in the highest state of discipline 
 the French and equipment, had for some time giv- 
 piards, Ju- gu alarming symptoms of disaffection. 
 ^ ■ Their colonel had ordered them, in 
 
 consequence, to be confined to their barracks, 
 when three hundred of them broke out of their 
 bounds, and repaired instantly to the Palais 
 Royal. They were received with enthusiasm, 
 and liberally plied with money by the Orleans 
 party; and to such a height did the transports 
 rise, that, how incredible soever it may appear, 
 it is proved by the testiiuony of numerous -wit- 
 nesses above all suspicion, women of family 
 and distinction openly embraced the soldiers as 
 they walked in the gardens with their mistresses. 
 After these disorders had continued for some 
 time, eleven of the ringleaders in the mutiny 
 were seized and thrown into the prison of the 
 Abbey ; a mob of six thousand men immediately 
 assembled, forced the gates of the prison, and 
 brought them back in triumph to the Palais 
 Royal. The king, upon the petition of the as- 
 sembly, pardoned the prisoners, and on the fol- 
 lowing day they weie walking in triumph 
 through the streets of Paris.§ 
 
 These alarming events rendered it evident 
 that some decisive step had become indispen- 
 sable to prop up the declining authority of the 
 throne. The noblesse recovered from their stu- 
 por ; even the king became convinced that vigor- 
 
 * Lac, vii., 56. Th., i., 73. Riv., 33. 
 t Lac, rii., 58. Riv., 43. 
 
 t Mig., i., 47. Lac, vii., 60, 61. Th., i., 81 
 
 * Lac, vii., 60, 63. Mig., i., 47. Th., i., 82, 83. 
 
 ous measures were called for, to ar- ^■ 
 rest the progress of the Revolution, mf^u^e' 
 For some time after their union with are resoiv- 
 the Commons, the nobles still met at ^'^ o" ^y 
 a different house, and were preparing "^"^ court, 
 a protest against the ambition of the National 
 Assembly, which subsequent events rendered nu- 
 gatory ; but the daily diminution of their num- 
 bers proved how hopeless in public estimation 
 their cause had become. In this extremity, the 
 king, as a last resource, threw himself upon the 
 army. The old Marshal de Broglio was ap- 
 pointed general ot the royal army, and all the 
 troops on whom most reliance could be placed, 
 were collected in the neighbourhood of Ver- 
 sailles. "Marshal," said the king, when he 
 first received him, "you are come to assist a 
 king without money, without forces ; for I can- 
 not disguise from you that the spirit of revolt 
 has made great progress in my armies. My last 
 hope is in your honour and fidelity. You will 
 fulfil the dearest wishes of my heart if you can 
 succeed, without violence or effusion of blood, 
 in frustrating the designs of those who menace 
 the throne, and which would, ere long, bring 
 misery on my people."* The marshal, ignorant 
 of the changes of the times, answered for the 
 safety of the capital, and immediately established 
 a numerous staff', whose insolence and conse- 
 quential airs only contributed to increase the 
 public discontents. 
 
 Neckar openly disapproved of the assemblage 
 of the troops, and Mirabeau prepa- .p,^ ^^^ 
 red an address by the assembly to di.sapproved 
 the king, praying for their removal. ofbyJVeck- 
 " The danger, sire," said he, " is ^'■• 
 pressing, is universal; for the provinces, which, 
 once alarmed for their liberties, may not know 
 how to restrain their violence ; for the capital, 
 which, pressed by want and the most cruel ap- 
 prehensions, will become exasperated by the 
 presence of the soldiers ; for the troops them- 
 selves, who, brought in contact with the centre 
 of discontent, may share its influence, and for- 
 get an engagement which has made them sol- 
 diers, to recollect that nature has made them 
 men. All great revolutions have broken forth 
 from trifling causes ; more than once the world 
 has been convulsed from an event much less 
 sinister than the present." The utmost alarm 
 prevailed in Versailles, and the members of the 
 assembly beheld with dismay the long trains of 
 artillery and cavalry which incessantly traversed 
 the streets.t 
 
 The court now openly adopted hostile meas- 
 ures ; the saloons of the"palace were Military 
 instantly filled with generals, colo- preparations, 
 nels, aides-de-camp, and young mem- Change of 
 bers of the nobility, whose inexperi- ministry, 
 ence and rashness filled the queen and her sup- 
 porters with unreasonable confidence in their 
 own strength. The ministry was completely 
 changed, and M. Neckar received not on- 
 ly his dismissal, but an order to quit the " ^ ' 
 kingdom. This formal command was accom- 
 panied by a note from the king,: in which he in- 
 timated that he could not prevent his removal, 
 and prayed him to depart in private, for fear of 
 exciting public disturbances. M. Neckar re- 
 ceived this intimation just as he was dressing 
 for diimer : he dined quietly without divTtlging 
 
 * Lac, vii., 64. Mig., i., 47. Th., i., 85. 
 t Lac, vii., 67, 68. Mig., i., 47. Th., i., 86. 
 i Lac, vii., 69, 70. Mig., i., 47, 48. Th., i., I 
 
76 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 it to any one, and set out in the evening with 
 Madame Neckar for Brussels. 
 
 Paris was thrown into the utmost consteraa- 
 Consterna- ^^'^^ ^Y ^^^'^ intelligence. Fuiy im- 
 tioninPar- mediately succeeded to alarm; the 
 is on this theatres were closed ; the Palais Royal 
 event. resounded with the cry " To arms ;" 
 and a leader of future distinction, Camille De.s- 
 moulins, armed with pistols, gave the signal for 
 insurrection by breaking a branch oflF a tree in 
 the gardens, which he placed in his hat. The 
 whole foliage was instantly stripped off the trees, 
 and the crowds decorated themselves with the 
 symbols of revolt. "Citizens," said Camille 
 Desmoulins, " the moment for action is anived ; 
 the dismissal of M. Neckar is the signal for a 
 St. Bartholomew of the patriots; this very even- 
 ing the Swiss and German battalions will issue 
 from the Champs de Mars to massacre us ; one 
 resource alone is left, which is to fly to arms." 
 The crowd unanimously adopted his proposal, 
 and, decorated with green boughs, marched 
 through the streets, bearing in triumph the busts 
 of M. Neckar and the Duke of Orleans. They 
 were charged by the regiment of Royal Alle- 
 mand, which was put to flight by showers of 
 stones ; but the dragoons of Prince Lambesc 
 having come up, the mob were broken, and dis- 
 persed through the gardens of the Tuileries. In 
 the tumult, the bearer of one of the busts, and a 
 soldier of the trench guards, were killed; theirs 
 was the first blood shed in the Revolution.* 
 
 From the lead which he took on this occa- 
 sion, Camille Desmoulins acquired 
 
 moui.^^''" ^^^ "^™^ ^^' ''^^ '^^^'"''^ Apostle of 
 Liberty." Associated with Dantou, 
 he long enjoyed the gales of popular favour. He 
 died on the scaffold, the victim of the veiy fac- 
 tion he had so great a share in creating. 
 
 The Prince of Lambesc had placed a squad- 
 Combats in ^^^ '^^ dragoons in front of the bar- 
 Paris, racks of the French guards, to intimi- 
 Treacherj- of date that disaffected regiment. When 
 the army. intelligence of the rout in the gardens 
 of the Tuileries arrived, the troops broke dowTi 
 the iron rails in front of their barracks, and open- 
 ed a volley upon the horse, which obliged them 
 to retire; they pursued them to the gardens of 
 the Tuileries, and posted themselves in order of 
 battle in front of the populace, and between them 
 and the royal troops. The soldiers in the Champ 
 de Mars received orders to advance and dislodge 
 them ; they were received by a discharge of mus- 
 ketry, and could not be prevailed on to return the 
 fire. The regiment of Little Suiss was th^ first 
 to give the example of defection. The mon- 
 archy was lost ; the household troops had revolt- 
 ed ; and the remainder of the army refused to act 
 against the people. t 
 
 In this extremity, the measures of the court 
 Troops with- were neither calculated to conciliate 
 drawn to Ver- nor overawe. The soldiers were 
 sailles. withdiawn from Paris, and collected 
 
 round Versailles. A regiment was encamped in 
 the splendid orangerj' of the palace, while the 
 governor of the Bastile in vain demanded troops 
 and ammunition : it seemed as if the govern- 
 ment was intent only on intimidating the as- 
 sembly, while the gulf of popular insurrection 
 was yawning beneath their feet. They were de- 
 ceived by the reports of the authorities, who per- 
 sisted in representing the tumults as only tem- 
 
 * Lac, vii., 70. Th., i., 89. Mig., i., 48. 
 t Mif ., i., 50. Tool., i., 73. Lac., vii., 74. 
 
 porary, and guarantied the safety of the capital. 
 But fatal events soon convinced them of their 
 error.* 
 
 During the absence of the military, the tu- 
 mults of Paris arose to an unexampled Dreadful 
 height. Immense bodies of workmen tumults la 
 assembled together, and gave vent to P^^^is. 
 the most inflammatory language ; aided by the 
 guards, who now openly joined the populace, 
 they broke open the arsenals and gtmsmiths' 
 shops, distributed the arms among their adhe- 
 rents, burned several houses, and opened the bar- 
 riers, which had been closed by orders of the 
 king. The Hotel des Invalides was taken, with 
 the aid of the veterans who inhabited it, within 
 sight of the Ecole Militaire, where the troops of 
 the line were stationed ; 20,000 muskets and 
 twenty pieces of cannon were seized, and dis- 
 tributed among the insurgents. The Place de 
 Greve was converted into a vast depot of arms, 
 ammunition, and artiller}' ; at the Hotel de Ville 
 a committee was appointed, which rapidly or- 
 ganized an insurrectionary force; 50,000 pikes 
 were intraediately Ibrged, and distributed among 
 the people; and it was determined that the armed 
 force should be raised to forty-eight Ori<nn of 
 thousand men. This was the com- the^Nation- 
 mencement of the National Guard of =>' Guard. 
 Paris, a body wliich was of such essential service, 
 sometimes for good, sometimes for evil, during 
 the progress of the Revolution. In decision of 
 conduct and rapidity of organization, the French 
 are superior to any nation recorded in history .+ 
 
 Those terrible bands which always make their 
 appearance in civil commotions, and are never 
 seen but on such occasions, now everj'where 
 showed themselves, as if they had sprung from 
 the earth. This tumultuarj- array soon received 
 some consistency from the French guards, who 
 were, for the mfjst part, incorporated with it, and 
 rendered the most important sendees in the con- 
 flicts which ensued.? 
 
 On the morning of the I4th, intelligence was 
 spread that the troops stationed at St. storming of 
 Denis were marching on the capital, the Bastile. 
 and that the cannon of the Bastile J^'y ^*- 
 were pointed down the street St. Antoine. The 
 cry immediately arose, " To the Ba.stile;" and 
 the wave of the insurrection began to roll in 
 that direction. The name of that detested for- 
 tress, in which the victims of court tyranny had 
 so otien been immured, excited the indignation 
 of the populace to the highest pitch, and a for- 
 midable insun'ectionary force soon surroimded 
 its walls. Eighty invalids and thirty of the 
 Swiss guard constituted its garrison ; the artil- 
 lerj' was well provided, but the place almost des- 
 titute of food lor the soldiers. The gims, how- 
 ever, were loaded Avitli grapeshot, the drawbridge 
 raised, and the sentinels posted as during a period 
 of siege. A body of the insurgents was admitted 
 within the first drawbridge to parley with the gar- 
 rison ; transported by ardour, they began, during 
 the conference, to escalade the inner walls, upon 
 which the governor gave orders to fire. Fearful 
 of the effect of grapeshot upon the dense masses 
 of the assailants, tne musketry only was at first 
 discharged ; but its effect was to repel the leaders 
 of the assault, and the mob fell back in confu- 
 sion. The arrival of the French guards with 
 aitillery, however, speedily changed the scene. 
 
 * Toul., i., 74. Lac, vi., 78, 79. 
 
 t Ml?., 1., M, 57. Lac., vii., 79, 82. Toul., i., 75. Th., 
 i., 90, 91. t Th., j., 92. 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROTE. 
 
 77 
 
 These brave men sustained with intrepidity- the 
 fire of the fortress, which now discharged grape- 
 shot, and from the houses in the vicinity made a 
 vigorous reply with musketry-, while the caimon 
 began to batter its ancient walls. By accident 
 or design, the chain which suspended the inner 
 drawbridge was cut, and the bridge fell ; an im- 
 mense assemblage of armed men immediately 
 filled the court, and the garrison,* seeing farther 
 resistance hopeless, hoisted the white flag on the 
 donjon tower, and shortly after laid down their 
 arms. 
 
 A bloody revenge stained the first triumph of 
 the arms of freedom. The garrison had capitu- 
 lated to the French guards on the promise of 
 safety, and the brave Governor Delaunay had 
 only been prevented by that assurance from set- 
 ting fire to the powder magazine, and blowing 
 the fortress and its assailants into the air. But 
 the military were unable to restrain the fury of 
 the populace. During the assault, the daughter 
 of one of the officers was seized by the crowd ; 
 they proposed to bum her alive, unless the place 
 was instantly surrendered, and had actually 
 placed her on a mattress, and set fire 
 the"peJpie '° " ^°^' ^^^^^ purpose, when the atro- 
 cious attempt was frastrated by the 
 generosity of one of the French guards, who de- 
 scended from the escalade, and saved their vic- 
 tim. All the eflxarts of the soldiers, who had 
 really gained the victory, could not restrain the 
 bloodthirsty vengeance of the people. The Gov- 
 ernor Delaunay, and three other officers, fell, 
 pierced by numerous wounds, in the arms of the 
 guard, who were striving to protect them ; the 
 mob seized their dying remains, hung them up 
 on the lampposts, and, having cut otf their heads 
 and one of their hands, carried these bloody tro- 
 phies aloft on the point of pikes to the central 
 committee in the Place de Greve, amid shouts of 
 triumph and yells of revenge.t 
 
 M. de Flesselles, provost of the merchants, 
 was the next victim. It was alleged that a let- 
 ter had been found on the Governor Delaunay 
 which implicated him in treachery to the popular 
 cause. He was seized, and conducted towards 
 the Palais Royal, to undergo an examination, 
 but shot within a few paces of the Hotel de Ville 
 by one of the mob.t The by-standers fell on his 
 remains, and suspended them to the lampposts. 
 The enthusiasm in Paris was raised to the 
 _ , highest pitch by the storming of the 
 
 ^ Panr'"" Bastile, and it became, like die 10th 
 August and the 9th Thermidor, one 
 of the great eras in the Revolution. But its most 
 imponant and lasting consequence was the es- 
 tablishment of the National Guard of Paris : a 
 civic force of great power and efficiency, and 
 which, though timid and vacillating at first, be- 
 came at last the great means of rescuing the 
 country from the iron yoke of the populace. 
 Composed of citizens of property and respecta- 
 bility, it generally, though not always, inclined 
 to the side of order, and ultimately was found 
 combatuig that ver}' despotism which arose out 
 of the insurrection it was originally formed to 
 support. 
 
 The night which succeeded this great event 
 was one of extraordinary anxiety and agitation 
 in Paris. The most alarming reports were cir- 
 
 ♦ Lac., vii., 83, 85, 88. Mig.,i.,60. Toul., i.,76. Th., 
 i,98, 99, 101. 
 t Lac., vii., 85, 89. Mi?., i., 60, 61. Th., i., 100, 101. 
 t Mig., i., 62. Lac, vii., 90. Th., i., 102. 
 
 culated ; that the foreign troops were to issue out 
 of the cellars and sewers, and massacre the in- 
 habitants; that a second St. Bartholomew wa.s 
 in preparation. The people barricadoed the 
 streets, tore up the pavement, carried stones to 
 the tops of the houses, and established guards in 
 the principal quarters. But nothing occurred to 
 justify the alarm, and the anxiety of a sleepless 
 night only added to the intense feelings which 
 agitated the populace.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the designs of the court were rap- 
 idlv approaching a state of maturity. 
 Infatuated by the reports which wefe theX" 
 transmitted to them from the military 
 commanders, surrounded by an impetuous and 
 inconsiderate nobility, they entertained the pro- 
 ject of restoring tranquillity to the capital by the 
 immediate application of military force. 'The 
 cannon of the Bastile, which was distinctly heard 
 at Versailles, was considered as a favourable 
 omen, as it indicated the commencement of an 
 actual engagement, and the termination of the 
 fatal irresolution of the troops. The old officers 
 laughed at the idea of the Bastile being taken, 
 and persisted in representing the tumults as a 
 passing affair. It was resolved, on the 15th, to 
 dissolve the assembly, to publish 40,000 copies 
 of the declaration of the 23d June, and cause the 
 Marshal de Broglio to move with an overwhelm- 
 ing force upon the capital. Still, the insurmount- 
 able aversion of the king to the effusion of blood 
 controlled all the measures of the arniy, and 
 there seems no doubt that he never would have 
 permitted them to fire but in resisting the aggres- 
 sion of the insurgents.t 
 
 But in the night, intelligence of the real state 
 of affairs was received ; that the Bastile The kin? 
 was taken; Paris in insurrection; the wakened in 
 guards in open revolt ; the regiments of ^^^ ""sht. 
 the line in sullen inacti\ity. The assembly, 
 which had constantly sat for the two preceding 
 days, was violently agitated by the intelligence. 
 It was proposed to send a new deputation to the 
 kin?, to urge the removal of the troops. " No," 
 said Clerm-ont Tonnerre, " let us leave them this 
 night to take counsel : it is well that kings, like 
 private men, .■should learn by experience." The 
 Duke de Liancourt took upon himself the pain- 
 ful duty of acquainting the king with the events 
 which had occurred, and proceeded to his cham- 
 ber in the middle of the night for that purpose. 
 " This is a revolt," .said the king, after a long 
 silence. "Sire," replied he, "it is a revolu- 
 tion.":! 
 
 * Mig., i., 62. Lac. vii., 92, 93. 
 
 .+ Mig., i., 63. Th., i., 96, 97. Toul., i., 70, 77. Lac, 
 vii., 94,97, 98. 
 
 t Toul., i., 78. Mig.. i.. 66. Th., i., 103. 
 
 I) During these events the a-ssembly was in the most vio- 
 lent state of agitation. The most alarming reports arrived 
 every half hour from Paris; the members remained in the 
 hall of meeting in the utmost anxiety ; the sound of the 
 cannon was distinctly heard, and they applied their ears to 
 the ground to catch the smallest reverberation. No less 
 than five deputations, during forty-eight hours, waited on 
 the king, ivhr) was in as great a perplexity and terror at the 
 effusion of blood a.s themselves. But nothing could daunt 
 the audacious spirit of Mirabeau. '• Tell the king," said he, 
 to the last deputation which set out, " that the foreign bands 
 by which we are surrounded have yesterday been visited 
 and flattered by the princess and pniire, and received from 
 them both presents and cares.ses. Tell him that all night, 
 in his palace, even these foreign satellites, amid the fumes 
 of wine, have never ceased to predict the subjugation of 
 France, and to breathe wishes for the destruction of the 
 assembly. Tell him that in his very palace the courtiers 
 have mingled dancing with these impious songs, and that 
 such was the prelude to the massacre of St. Bartholomew."* 
 * Th., i., KM. 
 
78 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. UI. 
 
 Finding resistance hopeless, from the univer- 
 . sal defection of the troops, the king 
 jSyTs. immediately resolved upon submis- 
 sion, a measure which relieved him of 
 the dreadful apprehension of causing an efiusion 
 of blood. On the following morning he repaired, 
 without his guards or any suite, accompanied 
 only by his two brothers, to the assembly. He 
 "was received in profound silence. "Gentlemen," 
 said he, "I am come to consult you on the most 
 important affairs : the frightful disorders of the 
 capital call for immediate attention. It is in 
 these moments of alarm that the chief of the na- 
 tion comes, without guards, to deliberate with his 
 faithful deputies upon the means of restoring 
 tranquillity. I know that the most unjust re- 
 ports have been for some time in circulation as 
 to my intentions; that even your personal free- 
 dom has been represented as being in danger. I 
 should think my character might be a sufficient 
 guarantee against such calumnies. As my onlj^ 
 answer, I now come alone into the midst of you ; 
 I declare myself forever united with the nation ; 
 and, relying on the fidelity of the National As- 
 sembly,* I have given orders to remove the troops 
 from Versailles and Paris ; and I invite you to 
 make my dispositions known to the capital." 
 
 Immense applause followed this popular dec- 
 laration ; the assembly, by a spontaneous move- 
 ment, rose from their seats, and reconducted the 
 monarch to the palace. A deputation, with the 
 joyful intelligence, was immediately despatched 
 to Paris, and produced a temporar}' calm in its 
 fervent population. Bailly was named mayor 
 of the city, and La Fayette commander of the 
 armed force.t 
 
 On the 17th the king set out from Versailles, 
 
 The king 
 
 with few guards and a slender suite, 
 
 visits Paris, to visit the capital, upon whose affec- 
 July 17. tions his sole reliance was now pla- 
 ced. A large part of the National Assembly 
 accompanied him on foot ; the cortege was swell- 
 ed on the road by an immense concourse of 
 peasants, many of whom were armed with 
 scythes and bludgeons, which gave it a gro- 
 tesque and revolutionarj' aspect. The queen 
 parted with him in the most profound grief, un- 
 der the impression that she Vvould never see him 
 more. He had received in the morning intelli- 
 gence of a design to assassinate him on the road, 
 but that made no change in his resolution. The 
 march, obstructed by such strange attendants, 
 lasted seven hours, during which the king was 
 made to taste, drop by drop, the bitterest dregs of 
 misery. He was received at the gates by Bail- 
 ly, at the head of the municipality, who present- 
 ed to him the keys of the city. '• I bring your 
 majesty," said he, " the same keys which were 
 presented to Henry IV. He entered the city as 
 a conqueror ; now it is the people who have re- 
 gained their sovereign." Louis advanced to the 
 Hotel de Ville through the midst of above one 
 hundred thousand armed men, imder an arch 
 formed of crossed sabres. The whole of the im- 
 mense crowd bore tricolour cockades, now assu- 
 med as the national colours. At the Pont Neuf 
 he passed a formidable park of artillery, but at 
 the touchhole and mouth of each had been pla- 
 ced a garland of flowers. Few cries of Vive la 
 Hoi met the ears of the unfortunate monarch ; 
 those of Vive la Nation were much more numer- 
 ous ; but when he appeared at the window of the 
 
 * Tout., i., 79. Th., i., 105. 
 tTh., i., 106. Mig.,i., 67. 
 
 Hotel de Ville, with the tricolored cockade on 
 his breast, thunders of applause rent the air, and 
 he was reconducted to Versailles amid the most 
 tumultuous expressions of public attaclmient.* 
 
 The day of the king's entr}' into Paris was the 
 fu^t of the emigration of the noblesse, commence- 
 The violent aristocratical party, find- ment of the 
 ing all their coercive measures over- emigration, 
 turned, and dreading the effects of popular re- 
 sentment, left the kingdom. The Count d'Ar- 
 tois, the Prince of Conde, the Prince of Conti, 
 Marshal Broglio, and the whole fam.ily of the 
 Polignacs, set ofl' in haste, and arrived in safety 
 at Brussels; a fatal example of defection, which, 
 being speedily followed by the inferior nobility, 
 produced the most disastrous consequences. 
 But it was the same in all the subsequent chan- 
 ges of the Revolution. The leaders of the roy- 
 alist part}', always the first to propose violent 
 measures, were, at the same time, tmable to sup- 
 port them when fmiously opposed ; they dimin- 
 ished the sympathy of the world at their fall 
 from so high a rank, by sho^\^ng that they were 
 unworthy of it.t 
 
 The whole ministn', being impeached by the 
 
 National Assemblv. followed the ex- -t>v.„„„;, 
 1 o 1 1 -"i •' 1 ji ■ /■ 1 he minis- 
 
 ample ot the nobiht}' by flymg from trj- fly. 
 
 the countr}^ and, at the same time, M. Neckar re- 
 Neckar and the popular leaders were ^'"^^^.^^ •'"" 
 recalled. The messenger overtook him ^ 
 at Bale, to which place he had arrived on his 
 journey to his native coitntry. His return to 
 Paris was a continued triumph. Ever}"where 
 he received the most intoxicating proofs of pub- 
 lic gratitude ; but his entry into Paiis was not 
 only the zenith of his popularity, but also its end. 
 He seemed to have a presentiment of his ap- 
 proaching fall, for, on entering his apaitment at 
 Versailles, he exclaimed to one of his friends, 
 "Now is the moment that I should die."; 
 
 A melancholy proof awaited him of the ina- 
 bility even of the most popular minis- Murder of 
 ter to coerce the furj' of the populace. Fouion and 
 Long lists of proscription had for a Bertluer. 
 considerable time been fixed at the entrances of 
 the Palais Royal, at the head of which was the 
 name of M. Fouion, an old man above seventy 
 years of age, who had been appointed to the 
 ministry which succeeded Neckar, but never en- 
 tered upon his ofiice. He w'as seized in the 
 countr.-, and brought into Paris with liis hands 
 tied behind his back. The vengeance j , . go 
 of the people could not wait for the forms "^ ^ 
 of trial and condemnation ; tliey broke into the 
 committee-room where he was undergoing an 
 examination before La Fayette and Bailly, and, 
 in spite of the most strenuous efforts on their 
 part, tore him from their arms, and liung him up 
 to the lampposts. Twice the fatal cord broke, 
 and the agonized -wTetch fell to the ground in the 
 midst of the multitude ; and twice they suspend- 
 ed him again, amid peals of laughter and shouts 
 of joy. It was with such terrific examples of 
 wickedness that the regeneration of the social 
 body coimnenced in France. § 
 
 AI. Berthier, son-in law to M. Fouion, soon 
 after shared the same fate. He was arrested at 
 Compeigne, and, after undergoing the utmost 
 outrages on the road, was brought to the Hotel 
 de Ville, where the mob presented to him the 
 head of his parent yet streaming with blood. 
 
 * Lac, vii., 105, 100. Th., i., 105, 109. Toul., i., 82, 83. 
 Burke, v., 139. t Mig-., i.. 68. Toul., i., 83. Th., i., 108. 
 t Toul., i., 85. Mig., i., 68. 
 1) Lac, vii., 117. Miff., i., 68. Th., i., 115, 117. 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 79 
 
 He averted his eyes, and, as they continued to 
 press it towards his face, bowed to the ghastly 
 remains. The efforts of Bailly and La Fayette 
 were again unsuccessful ; he was seized by the 
 mob, and dragged towards the lamppost; but, 
 at the sight of the cord which they prepared to 
 put about his neck, he was seized with a trans- 
 port of indignation, and, wresting a musket 
 from one of the National Guard, rushed into the 
 troop of his assassins, and fell pierced with in- 
 numerable wounds. One of the cannibals fell 
 on his body and tore out his heart, which he 
 bore about in triumph almost before it had ceas- 
 ed to beat. The heads of Berthier and Foulon 
 w^ere put on the end of pikes, and paraded, in the 
 midst of an immense crowd, through the streets 
 of Paris.* 
 
 Horror-struck at these sanguinary excesses, 
 M. Neckar demanded of the assembly of elec- 
 tors at Paris, and obtained, a general amnes- 
 ty for political offences. His chief object in 
 doing so was to save the life of the Baron de 
 Besenval, second in command imder the Mar- 
 shal Broglio, fonnerly his political opponent, 
 whom, at the hazard of his own life, he had gen- 
 erously saved from the furj- of the people on his 
 road from Bale, at the distance of a few leagues 
 from Paris. But, in taking this humane step, 
 Neckar experienced, for the first time, his ina- 
 bility to rule the Revolution, and felt the thin- 
 ness of the thread on which the applause of the 
 people is founded. His efforts were nugator}-. 
 On the following day Mirabeau brought the mat- 
 ter under the consideration of the assembly. 
 " Whence comes it," said he, " that the munici- 
 pality takes upon itself, under the ver}' eyes of 
 the assembly, to publish an amnesty for offen- 
 ces 1 Has the cause of freedom, then, no more 
 perils to encoxmter 1 We may pardon M. Neck- 
 a- his generous but indiscreet proceeding, which, 
 in iny other but him, would have been criminal ; 
 but let us, with more calmness and equal hu- 
 manry, establish the public order, not by gener- 
 al ami.esties, but a due separation of the judicial 
 functions from those of the multitude." The 
 assembly accordingly reversed the decree of the 
 electors of Paris, and political revenge received 
 ample scope for its development.t 
 
 The consequences of the insurrection of 14th 
 Consequences July were immense. The move- 
 oftheHthof merit of Paris was communicated 
 July- to the provinces; evervwhere the 
 
 lower orders, in imitation of the capital, organ- 
 ized themselves iato independent bodies, subject 
 to their respective mimicipalities, and establish- 
 ed national guards for their protection. The 
 immediate cause of this prodigious armament 
 was the propagation thiough all France of the 
 most alanning reports as to the approaching de- 
 struction of the han-est by brigands, who were 
 traversing the country in all directions, a strata- 
 gem played with the most complete success by 
 the leaders of the Revolution in order to place 
 the armed force of the kingdom at their dis- 
 posal.t 
 
 Three hundred thousand men were speedily 
 enrolled for the support of the popular side ; the 
 influence of government, as well as the power 
 of the sword, passed into the hands of the people. 
 The new magistrates were appointed by the 
 mob, and of course taken from the most zealous 
 supporters of the popular rights ; their authority 
 
 + Lac, VI)., 117, 118. Toul., i., 86. Th.. i., 117. 
 t Lac, vii., 122, 127. Mi?., i., 63, 69. Th.. 1.119 
 t Th., i., 126. > I • 
 
 alone was respected. The old functionaries, 
 finding their power gone, everywhere became 
 extinct. In less than a fortnight there was no 
 authority in France but what emanated from the 
 people.* 
 
 But the effects of this Revolution on the order 
 
 of society were at first lamentable in r>,„ ic i 
 ., , . , •' ^ , rr-i. ■ Ureaciiul con- 
 
 the highest degree. The regiments fusion and au 
 of the line everywhere declared for archy m 
 the popular side ; the whole popu- France, 
 lace possessed themselves of arms; no power 
 anywhere remained to resist the insurrection of 
 the lower orders. At Caen, and several other 
 towns, the massacres of the metropolis were too 
 faithfully imitated. M. de Belzunce, who en- 
 deavoured to restrain the excesses of his regi- 
 ment, was put to death with the most aggravated 
 circumstances of cruelty ; his remains were liter- 
 ally devoured by his niurderers.t Everywhere 
 the peasants rose in arms, attacked and burned 
 the chateaux of the landlords, and massacred or 
 expelled the possessors. The horrors of the in- 
 surrection of the Jacquerie, in the time of Ed- 
 ward III., were revived on a greater scale, and 
 with deeper circumstances of atrocit}^ In their 
 blind fury they did not even spare those seign- 
 eurs who were known to be inclined to the popu- 
 lar side, or had done the most to mitigate their 
 sufferings or support their rights. The most 
 cruel tortures were indicted on the victims who 
 fell into their hands ; many had the soles of their 
 feet roasted over a slow fire before being put to 
 death ; others had their hair and eyebrows burned 
 off, while they destroyed their dwellings, after 
 which they were drowned in the nearest fish- 
 pond. The Marquis of Barras was cut into lit- 
 tle bits before his wife, far advanced in preg- 
 nancy, who shortly alter died of horror; the 
 roads were covered with young women of rank 
 and beauty flying from death, and leading their 
 aged parents by the hand. It was amid the 
 cries of agony, and by the light of conflagration, 
 that liberty arose in France.^ 
 
 The assembly published several energetic 
 proclamations against these acts of violence, but 
 they had not the slightest effect in repressing 
 them. Indeed, they were so far committed in a 
 contest with the crown and the aiistocracy, that, 
 instead of repining, they rejoiced in secret at atro- 
 cities which seemed necessary to complete the in- 
 timidation of their adversaries. They felt that 
 they had put themselves in a situation where 
 they must either fear the noblesse or be feared 
 by them. Thus, for decency's sake, they blamed 
 openly and applauded privately ; they conferred 
 praises on the constituted authorities, and in se- 
 cret gave encouragement to license. The usual 
 consequence of violent usurpation is to compel 
 men to plunge deeper into the stream of revolu- 
 tion, and commit the greater crimes to save them- 
 selves from the consequence of the lesser which 
 they have already perpetrated.! 
 
 Nor were these disorders confined to the prov- 
 inces. Paris was in such a state of Misery and 
 confusion, the disorder arising from so famine ia 
 many coexisting authorities was so Paris, 
 excessive, the supply of provisions so precarious, 
 that the utmost exertions of Bailly and the mu- 
 nicipality were required to prevent the people 
 from dying of famine in the streets. Tailors, 
 shoemakers, bakers, blacksmiths, met at the 
 
 * Mig., i., 69, 70. Toul., i., 97. t Lac, vii., 129. 
 tLac, ni., 130, 132. Th., i., 127. Chateaub., Mem., 
 83, 64. tl Dumont, 133, 134. 
 
m 
 
 HI .STORY OF KlJKOi'K. 
 
 [CitAP. III. 
 
 Lfiiivr'', tfic Place I.nuis XV,, and othpr quar- 
 ters, flflilifrat'Tl on ihr piiMif rfiricTns, and sol 
 al (\rfiniicf ih'- FloI'd dc Villf and ihr rniinici- 
 palitv Ni((lit and day I'.ailly and the f !ornfnil- 
 tec ()(' I'tililic Suh':i'il«'nf-(' wrr cnt^if^fd in ihc 
 rierriilfan lalionr of |>rf)vidiriw for tli'- wants <<i 
 (he citizens; the usual soiirfes «d' supply had 
 totally ceaserl with the public cdnlusiKfi ; the 
 /'armers nnlonjjfr lirf)M[<li( iheirtcrain lo triark'-t, 
 feariri<( that it would \<r sci/rvj (or nuiliint; tiy lli'- 
 sovereij^n inidtltudf ; and llif peojile, as the /irst 
 eonseqiipncns of lli'dr triumph, were on the j)oint 
 rff perishing of fannine. Kverythir)^ rcipiired to 
 l»e provid'-d (or and done by Ihf (lulilic authori- 
 ties ; lar<;i' (|uanliliivs of j^rain wii- liout^ht hy 
 their aK''"ts in the coiuitry, and rondueted into 
 
 Abnnflonmnnt 
 
 Duke dc NoaiJIes pave the signal 
 for innovation, hy pro|)osin{,' that ^riZl^xuZ 
 the burden rd' taxes should fall riKhn i.y th» 
 e(|uallv on all; that all the ff-ndal ""I'lcs. An- 
 rights "should hi- dfrlarrd liable to e"'"*- 
 rrdcrnption, and personal servitude simply abol- 
 ished. 'I'his, Ihoufjh a threat eoneession, founded 
 alike in justice and expedience, was far from sat- 
 islyinfj the (xiptilar party. A [lainful picture of 
 (he opiircssion id' (i"udal rif^lits was drawn, and 
 Ihf f<enei(»sity o( the nobles jiiijued to consent to 
 their voluntary surrender. I'hey bej^an, contra- 
 ry to all expectation, to run against ea<'h other 
 in firoposint^ the abolition cd'abuscs; the conta- 
 t(ion ber'anie universal ; in a t'rw hours the 
 whole (i-udal rij^hts were abandoned. The I>uke 
 
 Paris, like a besieged eity, in j^reat convoys ''e'/hate|et jtro[)osed that the redemption (d'tithes 
 
 I tiy retjimeius ni norse. It was ground 
 ubiic expense, and s(dd at a rcdueed rale 
 
 i(iiarded by retji meats of horse, 
 at (he pi 
 
 to the citi/ens; "but siieh was the anxiety o( I 
 jicople, that all (hese pains would not sudice, and 
 loud complaints that the citizens were slarvinj^ 
 incessantly assailed the assembly. y\ll the el- 
 forts of the {government could iiot supj)ly the 
 want of that perennial fountain (d plenty and 
 prosperity whiidi arises from publif; confidence.* 
 Notwilhstandin£;all the efihrts of {jovernmeni, 
 however, the distress in Ptiris, both on the parted' 
 the municipality and the citizens, soon became 
 overwhelnunij. TM most every species of manufac- 
 ture was at a .stand : the purehases by the wealthy 
 classes had tolallv ceased, ;infl all the minierous 
 artisans who depended on it, in that £,'reat mart 
 r»f luxury and indulj^ence, were in the utmost 
 .straits. The popular maj^istrates were obliged 
 to dissipate all inc eorporalc funds at their dis- 
 posal, but that supply alfordeil ordy a letrifmrary 
 TeJief, and after exhanstiiif^ Ihcir credit, and over- 
 whelming with debt the public revenue, they 
 were obliged to come tf» the National Assembly 
 with the i)iteous talc that their resources were 
 rxhaus|e(|, and that Paris, as the (irst fruits of 
 its political regeneration, was on the ver.£;e of 
 tuin.t 
 
 La Fayette and the ofTieers of the revoluticm 
 were more successful in their efforts to establish 
 nn efficient civil force. Military organization, 
 more readily (ban civil order, grows out of 
 insurrectionary troubles. My int'orjioraling the 
 Trench guards, a number of .Swiss, and a vast 
 hody of deserters from the regiments of the line 
 into the Natifmal fJuard, he succeeded in com- 
 posing an elTieient force, which, luider the name 
 of (Jom|)anies rd'the (Jentre, at length made he/id 
 against the public disonlers. They were all 
 clothed in uniform, and to the colours of the Pa- 
 risian eockaile, blue ami red, joined while, (he 
 rulours of the royal family. Tluis was formed 
 the IrirnJnur rnrhiiilr, of which La Fayette nearly 
 predicted the destinies wlxn he said it would 
 make the lour of the gl(d)e.t 
 
 These atrocities were followed by an unex- 
 ampled proceeding on the part id' the National 
 /\ssembly. On the night ofthe4lh August, the 
 
 ♦Th., i„ 111, 
 
 t In .Tilly, 1789," Haiti M. Ilailly, mayor of Paris, author 
 or tlie Tennls-nourt Onlli, " the fiimncny of the I'ily of I'uriH 
 were yel in e""'! onlnr : Ihn I'^iienclilnrn was Iriilannnd )iy 
 tho receiiitfl, and she hail 1,000,0(10 fran.Ji (r'tO.OOn) in llie 
 bank, lint the ojiinnfles she h;is been conslniinrd to incur 
 Riiliseqiient to the Ilcvuliition nnionnt to y,.')00.000 francs 
 (.CI00,0n0) in a sinslp year. From these expenses, and the 
 jp-eat fallini,' oO" in the produoe of the free gifts, not only a 
 niomentary, but a total want of money has lokon places- 
 See HunKB's Connid., Works, v., 431.' 
 
 tTh..i.. 112, 11.1. 
 
 should be allowed, and that they should be com- 
 inufed into a |iayinenl in money; the Hishop »)f 
 (lliarlrcs, the suimression of the exclusive right 
 o( the chase. J he more important rights of 
 feudal jurisdiction in matters of crime, of the 
 disjKjsal of (dliees for gain, of pecuniary immu- 
 nities, fd'incipialily td' taxes, o( jiliiralily of ben- 
 efices, of casual emolument to the elergy, of an- 
 nals to the court of Itomc, were siu.'eessively 
 abandoned; finally, the incorporations and sep- 
 arate stales sacriheed their privileges ; the Bre- 
 tons, the Hiirgundians, the J,angu(-docians, re- 
 noiineed the rights whieh had withstotKl the tyr- 
 anny of Ifiehelicu and Louvois. All the monu- 
 ments of freedom which the jialriolism of former 
 limes had ereeied were swcj)l tiway, and the lib- 
 erty established iti its steati founded on an im- 
 aginary and inexficrienecd basis.* 
 
 It has truly been s;iid thai this night charigetl 
 the polilie.'il condition (dfranee. Jt 
 delivered the land (rorn (eudal pow- ",? ^"^'6'""" 
 er, the person from feudal depend- 
 aiice, the properly id' the poor from the rajiaeit; 
 of the rieli, the fruits fif induslry from the extwr- 
 lion i)f idleness. I'y siippressiiig priv.'ite jnris- 
 dieliuns, it introduced public justice ; by trrmi- 
 nating the jnirchase of tdlices, it led to jjudtj' in 
 lh(! discharge of their duties. The career of in- 
 dustry, Ihe stimidus of ambition, was tliciicefor- 
 ward opened In all the people, and l.'ie odious 
 flislinction of iitdde and rolurier, pa/rician and 
 baseborn the relics of Gothic conquest, forever 
 (iestroyed. 
 
 llarl these changes been introilurrNl with cau- 
 tion, or gradujilly grown out of llie altered eon- 
 dilion of soeielv, there ean be no doubt that they 
 would have been highly bene/ieial ; but eoming, 
 as they did, suddeidv aiid luic.tjieetedly upon the 
 world, they proiiueed the vw^i disastioiis conse- 
 (|iumces, and contribiiled, uinre than any other 
 eimimstanee, to spread abroad that settled con- 
 leiiipl (or ;inliijuil V, and trial disregard of privjile 
 riglil, which dislingui'^heil llie subseqiu'nt period 
 of the Fn!nch llevoludoii. The ideas of men 
 were entirely overturned when rights established 
 for centuries, privi/eges conlendcd for by suc- 
 cessive generalio'is, and instiliilions held the 
 most sacred, were at once abandoticd. Nothing 
 could be regarded as stable in society jiHer sucji 
 a shock; the chimeras of every cnthusitist, the 
 dream of every visionary, seemed etpially de- 
 serving of atlenlion with the sober conclusions 
 fd' reason and observation, when all Ih.at former 
 ages /lad done was swept jiway iti Ihe veiy eom- 
 menccment td' improvement. 'The minds of men 
 were .shaken as by the yawning of tlie ground 
 
 ♦ Mlir., i.,71, Lac., Til, 140. Th., i,, 12«, 131. 
 
IVH!» I 
 
 irtsToiM ()i- i:i;ii()i'r. 
 
 Rl 
 
 (hiring tin* I'lny nl' ••ui 'Viilli()iuil,(' ; nil tli;i( llic 
 iriiiiil hail In'f'ii {ici'ii.stDinr'ii Id ii's^iiKi (is most 
 l.istiiif^, (iisiiiijH'.'iifil lirdirc till' (iiM hri'iilli oC in 
 iKivjilidii. 1 li<" ccinsciiiicnii's ol mkIi n M<'|) 
 roiilil iii)t !)(' oilier limn I'lilal. Il o|iriii'i| ilic dmir 
 Id cvri'v s)i('ci('s of rxlijiviif^imcf, rniinslu'd ,i 
 |in"(('(lciil lor rvcry siiliscintciil sjioliatjon, nml 
 li'd iiiiiiic'iiifiloly lo thai (('nnnil o/' niiiids, wlini 
 iIm> most aiidarioiis and llir Irasl rt'aMinahIc aif 
 Mire olohlaiiiiiuj an asi'ciidriii'v. 
 
 'I'hr ("vrnl accoidiiiKJy jnovfil Ilic jiistici; ol 
 llirsc' iMiiiiiplcs. " Tho derirrs of Ihn 'Itli Ati- 
 fpisl," .says Dntnoiit, "so far IVoiu piiltini;:, as 
 was cxix'i'lc'd, Ji, slo|) to lh<" rohiiny anil viulcnrf 
 thai was trniiii; on, sorvi'd only to malic Ihr prn- 
 |ilr ai'i|naiiil('d willi ihi'ir own stri'iit^lli, and to 
 »ir.|iii(' ihcin wilh a nuivii'lioii lli.'il all ihoir out- 
 la^'cs af,'aJnsl th'- iioliilily woiilil pass wilh iiii 
 piinily. Nothing ili'iK' IhronK-h I'ear stici ri-ds in 
 fis ohjni'l.* 'riiosc whom y<'ii liopi' to disiirm 
 jiy roiiiTssions, air only U'd liy thriit lo slill liolil- 
 <'|- allcinpls and mon- cvtiiivaijanl dniiands." 
 
 JN'olhin;^ ran nion- disliiiclly marii llic dillor- 
 r.mtrnsi of ''"' '■li.'ii'<'ict''i'.s ot the I''rnnrli and 
 • hi' Krniii'li KnKlisli Urvoliilinns, than llm rmi 
 nnd I'Miijlisli duct oC Ihr Iwo nations in thrir liist 
 "'''"'"'"""'• nwasiiirs oflc^M'dalivi' impinvciiKiil 
 a(1(T till' royal power had lallrn. 'I'ln' j'liifjli -li 
 were solicitous to jiistil'y their resistance by the 
 precedent of antii|uity ; they maintained "that 
 lliey had iv/iniln/ this rreedom,'' and soii'.rlit only 
 lo ir.rs/iiJi/isk those ancient landmarlfs which lind 
 disappeared diiiins; Ihe indolence or iisMr|iatioii 
 of recent limes. I 'I'lie I'leiich comini-nced the 
 wimK of reformation liy destroyintc everylhint^ 
 which iiad |,^uiie liefore them, and smitfht In es- 
 tahlish Ihe, freedom of future apes hy roolinfj r)tit 
 I'veivlhiiij; which had lieen done liy tiie past. 
 On the aiii'ieni slock of Saxon indepnidencc Ihe 
 l'',ii>^'lisli infrraflcd the shoots of modern lihcrly; 
 in its stead the |''rencli iilanted the unknown 
 Iree of ef|natity. In the I'.ritisli Isles tlie plant 
 has liecome deeiily rooted, ;iiid expanded vvidely 
 in its native air; lime will show ^vllell]el• thf 
 french have not wasted tlieir endeavours in 
 Irainiiii,' an exotic tinsuitcd to the cllinatn and 
 nntrnilful in the soil. 
 
 'J'hc eonseijiiences of this invasion of private 
 Consprjiipn- rif^''' were .soon apparent. Three days 
 res nf ttiin af\er, the popular leaders maintained 
 moiwuin. (|,.,( ji ^^■.y; ,,,,! Ill,, power of irdfi'iniie^, 
 hut the ,/A,;//7;/»/», of tillies which had \ti'cn voled, 
 ^^^_^^^i „ and that all thai the clergy had a ri;;hl 
 lo was a decent jirovision (iir their 
 inemlifTs. 'I'liey found an able lnil iinexpecird 
 TiUirq ,nv advocale in Ihe Aliti/. Sijlyes. " If it 
 ••1111(1 iiy Mm is yel jiossihlc," said he, "to awaken 
 '•liTKy. in your minds the love of justice, I 
 
 would ask, not if it is expedient, hut if it is just 
 to despoil the (Miuich. The tithe, whatever it 
 may he in future, does nfil at present helonj^ to 
 yiii. If it is su|>|iresse(l in Ihe hand of the cred- 
 itor.does il follow from that that it is extituniish- 
 ed also in that of the rlelilnr, and hecome your 
 property 1 You yourselves have de.elillTtl the 
 til he redeemalile; hy so doinj; yoit Iiave reeof;- 
 nisf'd its lejral existence, and cannot now sup- 
 press it, The lithe does not l)eloli;rto the owiic)- 
 of the soil, lin ii^t; tipillier pun'liosed it, nor 
 aerpiired il liy inherilanre. If ym extinKuish 
 the tithes, yon eonfer a Knit'iilniis and iinealled- 
 for present on the, laiulpd proprietor, who tloc"^ 
 notliint;, while you niin Ihe true proprieloi', who 
 
 * pMnifint,, U9. 
 
 Vol. l.-L 
 
 t Hurkp, vii., 72. 
 
 instrnels the people in niiirii for thai share of its 
 frnils." JIo concluded with Iho celehralcd ex- 
 pre.ssion, "You would he free, and you know 
 not how to he jiisl."* 
 
 Miialicaii Mipporled the abolition of the tithes. 
 He aif^iied thai Ihe burden of snpportini; Iho 
 public worsliip should be borne eipially by all • 
 Ihat the slate alone was the judfje wliether it 
 should fall exclu dvely on the landed proprietors 
 or be made iMiod liy a general coiili ibulion ot' 
 Ihe citizens; that it robs no oni- it it makes 
 such a (lislributiou of the burden as it deeniK 
 most expedient, and thai Ihe oppressive weijrhi 
 of this imjiosl on the small proprietois loudly 
 called for its imposition on the slate in general. 
 l''or this pur|iose he proposed that the clergy 
 should be paid by salaries. As that expression 
 ciealeil some disapprobation, he added, " I know 
 but lluee ways of living in society: you musl 
 be either a beggar, a robber, or a stipendiary." 
 The cli'ifjy had Ihe ({'''"''"'sity to in- 
 trusllheii "inii-resls to the npiiiy of the A"'?""' '•"'• 
 assembly; Ihe only reiiim they met with wa-s 
 the suppression of tithes, under the condition 
 Ihat the state should fitly provide liir religion 
 and its miiiisiiTs : an obli(,;alioii which was scil- 
 ciiiMly couimiltcd to Ihe honour of the freneli 
 nalioii, bill which aOei ward was sliamclully vi- 
 (dated, and, in fact, became perfectly illusory. + 
 Thus the firsl fruits which the clergy derived 
 from their pinci ion with the Tiers hltat was the 
 aimihilalion of tlwir propeity, and Ihe leiliietiou 
 of (ill themselves to lietj,gary. In this there was 
 iinihing surjirising; Kialitude is unknown in 
 public assemblies. When men vole away the 
 jironerly of olhers, ihey can expt^cl no uierey for 
 iheirowu; when the liiundations of soeiriy are 
 lorn up, Ihe (irst to be sacrificed are Ihe most de- 
 fenceless (d its members. 
 
 I'.ul the fruits ot injustice seldom prosner wilh 
 nations any more than individuals. '1 he con- 
 fiscation of the immense landed estates of tho 
 (Miiirch, aiiiounliiiK t" nearly a third of l''raiiee, 
 proved no relict to the public necessities till tho 
 i-.su iiig ol assignals on their security began. 
 lOxtraordinaiy as it may appear, it is a well au- 
 thenticated fact, thai the expenses of managing 
 the Church property cost the nation ji;'J,(MIII,(MM» 
 a year more than it yielded, br-sides in a lew 
 years augmenting the pubiic debt by X7.(MII),()0(). 
 'I'his is no wavs siirjirising, Fn the confusion 
 coiiserpient on so great an act of sjiolialion, no 
 account of the revenues of the ecclesiastical do- 
 mains could be oblained, and Ihe leaders who 
 had sanctioned so gicat an act <\\' robbery (biinfl 
 il im|)ossible, aller its commission, to icslrain 
 the peculation of their inferior agents.! 'I'his 
 is the more remarkable, as the ecclesinsiical es- 
 tates produced a clear nett revenue of 7(),()(M),000 
 francs, or i;y,HOO,(MK) yearly. 
 
 'F'he innovalftrs in the assenibly, who li;iil 
 loined in the populai parly from a ,, 
 beliefthal in so doing lay their only p,.„,, „f ,),g 
 cfianci! of preserving Ihe wreck of' n,ii>lpii bikI 
 their jiroperty, now perceived, with rlrri>y wlio 
 
 hitter regret, Ihe infatuated course J"""'' H'" 
 .1 11 1 1 .1 1 1 ili'viilntlon. 
 
 Ilicy had piirsucfl, and the hopeless- 
 ness ofany cxpeclation thai, by yicMing lo rev- 
 olutionary demanib:, they would satisfy the peo- 
 ple. The IVslion of Charlies one of the jiopular 
 bishops who had sii|iporled llie union of orders, 
 the vote hy head, nnd the ne w constitution, waa 
 
 * Tli.,i., 134. Diim-itit, 147. 
 
 t t.Hc. vii,, 14.'), 147. Ti.til , i , 103. niimont, 147. 
 Til., I., ir). I Cnloiinr, SI.Bli; nnd Ilurkr, v., 431. 
 
82 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 then visited by Dumont, when he was dismiss- 
 ing his domestics, selling his eflects, and leav- 
 ing his house to discharge his debts ; with tears 
 in his eyes, the benevolent prelate deplored the 
 infatuation which had led him to embrace the 
 cause of the Tiers Ktal, which violat'xl in its 
 prosperity all the engagements contracted in it-s 
 adversity. The Abbe iSieyes, who had taken so 
 decided a part in the early usurpations of the 
 assembly, was hissed and coughed down when 
 he strove to resist the iniquitous conhscation. 
 Next day he gave vent to his spleen to Mira- 
 beau, who answered, "My dear abbe, you have 
 loosed the bull : do you expect he is not to make 
 use of his horns 1"* 
 
 This hrst and great precedent of iniquity, the 
 confiscation of the property of the Church, was 
 brought about by the selfish apathy or secret 
 wishes of the great majority of the laity. All 
 classes felt that the financial difficulties of the 
 state were nearly insurmountable, and all anti- 
 cipated a sensible relief from any measure, how 
 violent soever, which might lead to their extri- 
 cation. It was the universal belief that this em- 
 barrassment was the main cause of the public 
 difficulties ; and the secret hope that the property 
 of the Church was the holocaust which would 
 at once put an end to it, was the real cause 
 which occasioned this general and iniquitous 
 coalition. All imagined that some interest must 
 be sacrificed, and the Church was pitched upon 
 as at once the most wealthy and defenceless body 
 in the state. But, like all other measures of spo- 
 liation, this great invasion on private right rap- 
 idly and fatally recoiled on the heads of those 
 who engaged in it. The ecclesiastical estates, 
 it was soon found, in the hands of the revolu- 
 tionar}"- agents, encumbered as they were with 
 the debts of the clergy, yielded no profit, but 
 were rather a burden to the state : to render 
 them available, the contraction of debt on their 
 security became necessary; the temptation of 
 relieving the public necessities by such a step 
 was irresistible to a public and irresponsible 
 body, holding estates to the amount of nearly 
 two hundred millions sterling in their hands. 
 Hence arose the system of A.ssignats, which 
 speedily quadrupled the strength of the republi- 
 can government, rendered irretrievable the march 
 of the Revolution, and involved all classes in 
 such inextricable difficulties, as rapidly brought 
 home to every interest in the state the spolia- 
 tion which they had begun by inflicting on the 
 weakest. 
 
 The abolition of the exclusive right of hunting 
 .... (. and shooting was made the pretext 
 the'ri'X. of ^o"" ^^^ most destructive disorders 
 shooting and throughout all France. An immense 
 hnnt.ng. lis crowd of artisans and mechanics is- 
 effects. J.^g^^ fj.Q,.^ ([jg towns, and, joining the 
 
 rural population, spread themselves over the 
 fields in search of game : the greatest violence 
 was speedily committed by the armed and in- 
 controllable multitude. Enclosures were broken 
 down, woods destroyed, houses broken open, rob- 
 bery perpetrated, under pretence of exercising the 
 newly regained rights of man. Meanwhile, the 
 burning of the chateaux and the plunder of the 
 landed proprietors continued without in'ermis- 
 sion, while the assembly, instead of attempting 
 to check these disorders, issued a proclamation, 
 in which they affected to consider them as the 
 work of aristocrats, who were desirous of bring- 
 
 * Dumont, m, 67, 147. 
 
 ing odium upon the Revolution. One of the 
 most singular efl'ects of the spirit of faction is 
 the absurdities which it causes to be embraced 
 by its votaries, and their extraordinar>' credulity 
 in regard to everything which seems calculated 
 to advance the interests of their party. *+ 
 
 The next step of the assembly was the publica- 
 tion of the famous Rishfs of Man: a Rights of 
 composition which, amid much ob- .Man. 
 vious and important truth, contains a August 18. 
 most dangerous mixture of error, and which, if 
 not duly chastened by the lessons of experience 
 and the observation of histor)', is calculated 
 to convulse society. It declares the original 
 equality of mankind; that the ends of the social 
 union are liberty, properly, security, and resist- 
 ance to oppression ; that sovereignty resides in 
 the nation, and every power emanates from 
 them ; that freedom consists in doing everything 
 which does not injure another; that law is the 
 expression of the general will ; that public bur- 
 dens should be borne by all the members of the 
 state in proportion to their fortunes ; that the 
 elective franchise should be extended to all; and 
 that the exercise of natural rights has no other 
 limit but their interference with the rights of 
 others. In these positions, considered abstract- 
 ly, there is much in which every reasonable 
 mind must acquiesce ; but the promulgation of 
 the agreeable but perilous principles of sover- 
 eignty in tlie people, of the natural equality of 
 mankind, and the extension of the elective fran- 
 chise to every citizen, only proves how ignorant 
 the legislators of that period were of the real 
 character of mankind, and how little they were 
 aware of that inherent depravity in human na- 
 ture to which so many of themselves soon be- 
 came victims. t 
 
 It is a curious circumstance, illustrative of 
 the tendency of revolutionary excite- opinion en- 
 ment to deprive the representatives tertuined of 
 of the people of anything approach- nbyitsau- 
 ing to freedom of deliberation, that '''^°''^- 
 the authors of this celebrated declaration were, 
 at the time they wrote it, sensible of the ab- 
 surdity and peril of many of its parts. Du- 
 mont, its principal composer, has justly asked, 
 "Are men all equal"? Where is the equality"? 
 Is it in virtue, talents, fortune, industiy, situa- 
 tion 1 Are they free by nature 1 So far from it, 
 they are born in a state of complete dependance 
 on others, from which they are long of being 
 emancipated.'"! Mirabeau himself was so sen- 
 sible of the absurdity of laying down any code 
 of rights anterior to the formation of the consti- 
 tution, that he laboured to induce the assembly 
 to postpone it till that was accomplished, ob- 
 serving that " any enunciation of right at that 
 time would be but an almanac for a year." But 
 it was too late ; the people M'ould admit of no 
 delay; and the deputies, afraid of losing their 
 popularity, published the famous declaration, in- 
 
 * Lnc, vii., 149. Th., i. 
 
 t The people of Ver.sailles already insulted and pelted the 
 nobles and clergy at the gate of the assembly, whom they 
 stigmatized as Aristocrats ; an epithet which afterward be- 
 came tht; certain prelude to destruction. If is extraordinary, 
 that the opposite party never affixed any denomination to the 
 Revolutionists, but suffered them to assume the title of " the 
 iVaticm." It may readily be imagined what an effect this 
 name had in influenciug the minds of men already suffi- 
 ciently inflamed from other causes. " Epithets and nick- 
 names," said Napoleon, "should never be despised ; it is by 
 sue h means that mankind arc Hoverned."' 
 
 i Mi?., i.. 82. l.ac. vii.. 153. 
 
 I) Dum., 140. Th., i., 142. 
 
 * rhimonl, i , 72. 
 
HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 1789.] 
 
 wardly execrating the work of their own hands : 
 a step so perilous, that, as its author himselt" ad- 
 mits, it was like placing a powder magazine un- 
 der an edifice, which the first spark of lire would 
 blow into the air.* 
 
 The ^-eat question which next occupied the 
 Formation assembly was the Ibrmation of a con- 
 ofacoiisti- stitution ; and the discussions regard- 
 tution. ing it kept the public mind in a state 
 of incessant agitation during the whole of Au- 
 gust and September. The committee to whom 
 it was referred to report on the subject, recom- 
 mended the inviolability of the king's person, the 
 permanence of the legislative body, and a single 
 chamber for the legislature. This im- 
 August m. pop,jjjjt question, upon which the fu- 
 ture progress of the Revolution hinged, was 
 warmly discussed in the clubs of the capital, 
 and the most vehement threats held out to those 
 of the assembly who were suspected of leaning 
 to the ai-istocratic side. On the one side, it was 
 argued that the verj^ idea of an assembly com- 
 
 Sosed of hereditary legislators was absurd in a 
 •ee country; that if it united itself to the throne, 
 it became dangerous to freedom — if to the peo- 
 ple, subversive of tranquillity ; that it would 
 operate as a perpetual bar to improvement, 
 and, by constantly opposing reasonable changes, 
 maintain a continual discord between the higher 
 and lower orders ; and that the only way to pre- 
 vent these evils was to blend the whole legisla- 
 ture into one body, and temper the energy of 
 popular ambition by the firmness of aristocratic 
 resistance. On the other hand, it was maintain- 
 ed that the constitution of society in all the Eu- 
 ropean states necessarily implied a separate 
 body of nobles and commons; that the turbulent 
 spirit of the one was fully counteracted by the 
 tenacious tendency of the other; that a monarchy 
 could not subsist without an upper house to sup- 
 port the throne; that the English Constitution 
 afforded decisive evidence of the happy effects 
 of such a separation; that the best consequences 
 had been found to follow the discussion of public 
 matters in separate assemblies, and many fatal 
 resolutions prevented by allowing time 
 August 31. ^^j. consideration between their delib- 
 erations; and that it was a mere mockeiy to 
 pretend that these restraints could take place if 
 the legislature was all contained in one chamber, 
 when the nobles would be immediately outvoted, + 
 and the whole rights of the monarchy might be 
 voted away in a single sitting. Unfortunately 
 for France, these arguments did not prevail, and 
 a single chamber was adopted by the assembly.:§ 
 Nor is it surprising that this was done, for the 
 evils of the aristocracy were pressing, and had 
 been experienced ; those of the democracy re- 
 mote, and were only anticipated. The time soon 
 came when experience taught the ruinous con- 
 sequences of tneir decision, and the warmest 
 friends of freedom unanimously adopted a divis- 
 ion of the legislature ; but it was then too late ; 
 the aristocracy was destroyed, the face of society 
 changed, and there remained only the name of a 
 House of Peers, without either their property, 
 their influence, or public utility. 
 
 The proceedings of the assembly in the forma- 
 tion of this constitution were so precipitate, that 
 
 83 
 
 in the eyes of all rca.sonablc men they prognosti- 
 cated nothing but ruin to the country. Medita- 
 tion and thoU;';ht ihoe passed for notliing; every 
 one seemed only desirous to gratily iiis own 
 vanity b}' anticipating the notions of his rivals; 
 everything was done at the sworu's point, as in 
 a place taken by assault; every change piessed 
 on at full gallop. No interval was allowed for 
 reflection, no breathing time given to the pas- 
 sions. After having demolished everything, 
 thev resolved to reconstruct the whole social 
 edifice with the same breathless rapidity; and 
 so extravagant was the opinion of the assembly 
 of its own powers, that it would willingly have 
 charged itself with the formation of constitution^ 
 for all nations.-* In these monstrous pretensions 
 and ruinous innovations is to be found the re- 
 mote but certain cause of all the blood and hor- 
 rors of the Revolution.t 
 
 The question of the veto, or of the royal sanc- 
 tion being required to validate the acts 
 of the legislature, was next brought Jfie^lt™ 
 under discussion, and excited still more 
 violent passions. One would have thought, from 
 the anxiety manifested on the subject, that the 
 whole liberty of France depended on its decision, 
 and that the'concession of this right to the throne 
 would alone restore the ancient regime. The 
 multitude, ever governed by words, imagined 
 that the assembly, which had done so much, 
 would be left entirely at the mercy of the king if 
 this power were conceded, and that any privilege 
 left to the disposition of the court would soon be- 
 come an anti-revolutionar}^ engine. This was 
 the first question since the Revolution in which 
 the people took a vivid interest, and it may easily 
 be conceived how extravagant were their ideas 
 on the subject. They imagined that the veto was 
 a monster which would devour all the powers 
 they had acquired, and deliver them over, bound 
 hand and foot, to the despotism of the throne. 
 Those who supported the veto were instantly 
 stigmatized as inclining to every species of tyran- 
 ny. The people, without understanding even so 
 much as that, imagined that it was a tax which 
 
 * Dumont, 140, 142. t Th., i., 84. 
 
 t Lac, vil., 159. Riv., 191. Th.,i., 152, 154. Mig-., i., 
 84. Diim., 158. 
 
 i> U was cirrifid by a majority of 499 to 89. No less than 
 122 members iemamed away, iutimidated by the threats of 
 the populace. 
 
 * Dumout, 159, 160. 
 
 t The particulars of this constitution, which was soon 
 swept away amid the violence and insanity of subsequent 
 times, are too complicated and proli.x to be susceptible of 
 enumeration in general history, but one vital part of the 
 fabric is deserving of especial attention. By a fundamental 
 article. France w.osdivided into 83 departments : the primary 
 assemblies, 8000 in number, which were to be convoked 
 every two years to elect the legislature, consisted of 5,000,000 
 citizens: in addition to this there were established 46,000 
 municipal assemblies, composed of 900,000 citizens ; 547 dis- 
 trict assemblies, and 83 departmental assemblies, for the 
 management of the local ci>ncprns of the provinces. But 
 the most dangerous part of this highly democratic consti- 
 tution remained behind. Each of the primary assemblies 
 named an elector fur every hundred citizens, who consti- 
 tuted 83 assemblies of 600 persons each making in all 50,000 
 for the whole kingdom, who remained permanently in [los- 
 sossion of their functions for the two years that the legisla- 
 ture sat. These 63 assemblies were invested with powers 
 so considerable that they almost amounted to au establish- 
 ment of so many separate republics in one gieal federal 
 union. They nominated, to tlie exclusion of the king, the 
 whole local authorities, including the bishops and clergy, 
 judges, botli supreme and inferior, magistrates and func- 
 tionaries of every description. They cimstitiited, in short, 
 a permanent political union, legally established in every de- 
 partment, elected by universal suffrnge, and wielding within 
 that department almost all the influence and authority of 
 government. The legislative assembly, which succeeded 
 the constituent, was chosen under ths constitution, and 
 when the nation had become habituated to the exercise of 
 these powers. It is unnocessarv to go farther : that single 
 article in the constitution, carried, as it iminediaiely w;is, 
 into practice, is sulTicient to explain all the disasttfs and 
 crimes <if the Revolution.— Ste Calonne, 360, 361, aud 
 Const., 1769, f) 17. 
 
84 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 it was necessary to abolish, or an enemy who 
 should be hanged ; and they loudly demanded 
 that he should be suspended by the lamppost. 
 The clubs of the Palais Royal took the most vio- 
 lent measures, and incessantly besieged the as- 
 sembly with menacing deputations ; eflbrts were 
 made to array the municipality in insurrection, 
 and the niultilude, armed since the I4th of July, 
 began to give s}-mptoms of revolt. Alarmed by 
 such dangerous signs, the ministr}' recommended 
 concession to the king ; and he himself preferred 
 a conditional to an absolute veto. The assem- 
 bly, by a majority of two to one,* de- 
 August 10. ^^,g^^ jj^^j jj^g j.^g should have a veto, 
 
 but that his power to decline sanctioning any 
 legislative measure should not extend beyond two 
 successive legislatures. t 
 
 It is a remarkable fact, singularly illustrative 
 of the rapid progress of revolutionary ideas, when 
 the fever of innovation has once seized upon 
 men's minds, that in all the instructions of the 
 electors to the deputies, without exception, the 
 absolute veto, as well as personal inviolability, 
 had been conceded to the sovereign. A few weeks 
 of agitation — the revolt of the 14th July — the Ten- 
 nis-court Oath — had overtiuTied all these sober 
 resolutions, and the crown was compelled to re- 
 cede from a privilege which had been unani- 
 mously agreed to b}' the whole kingdom. The 
 instructions in the cahiers, indeed, were most 
 express against almost all the illegal acts and 
 usurpations of the assembly. They almost in- 
 variably secured to the sovereign all the essential 
 prerogatives of the monarchy. They unanimous- 
 ly prescribed a monarchical government for 
 France ; that all laws should require the king's 
 sanction to their validity; that he should have 
 the unrestrained right of making peace or war, 
 and appointing the judges ; that private property 
 should be inviolate;; and by a great majority, 
 that the rights, estates, and privileges of the cler- 
 gy should be maintained. The Qew constitution, 
 the abolition of the absolute veto, the spoliation 
 of the Church, were already a violation of these 
 instructions in their most essential particulars : 
 yet not a voice was raised in France to pro- 
 test against those monstrous and unauthorized 
 stretches on the part of the popular representa- 
 tives: so intoxicating is the possession of power 
 to mankind, and so little are they qualified to 
 bear its seduction, even when the measures to 
 which it leads are most opposed to preconceived 
 ideas, or most at variance with established 
 habits.! 
 
 On this occasion Mirabeau supported the 
 Mirabeau crown, and argued strenuously in fa- 
 supports the vour of the absolute veto. " Let us 
 crown in the not," said he, "arm the sovereign 
 debate. against the legislature, by allowing a 
 
 moment to exist in which he may become its in- 
 voluntary instrument. The nation will find more 
 real security in laws consented to by its chief, 
 than in the revolution which would follow the 
 loss of its power. When we have placed the 
 
 * By a majority of 613 to 32-">. 
 
 + Th , i , 148, 133. Mig., i., 86. 87. Dnm., 156. 
 
 t S.I otruMirly wa3 this principle expressed in all the ca- 
 hiers. that the assenil>ly. liyact 17 of the coiistitutioii <if 5th 
 October, 1789, sanctioned it by a special clause in these 
 terras : " Property of every sort lieingasiicred and inviolable 
 right, no one can lie deprived of it but on the (ground of pnb- 
 lic necessity, legally established and evidently requirinsr it, 
 and on the c^-iiditinn of a full and ample iiideniuity." — See 
 Const., I7p9, act. 17 : CaI.0N!»E. 21S. 
 
 *) Cal.mne. 121, 125, 127, 214, 215, 301, 305, 319, 3S0. 
 Lac., vii., 162. 
 
 crown in the hands of a particular family, it is ia 
 the last degree imprudent to awaken their alarms, 
 by subjecting them to a conti'ol which thej' can- 
 not resist ; and the apprehensions of the deposit- 
 ary of the whole forces of the monarchy cannot 
 be contemplated without the most serious appre- 
 hensions. I would rather live in Constantinople 
 than in France, if laws could there be made with- 
 out the royal sanction." Words of striking and 
 prophetic import, which were then ill understood 
 or angrily interpreted, but which were recollected 
 with bitter and unavailing regret when the course 
 of events had proved their truth, and the mo.st ve- 
 hement of their revilers had perished from their 
 neglect. Mounier and Lally Tollendal, on this 
 occasion, though members of the committee ap- 
 pointed to frame the constitution, were the leaders 
 of the party who contended for the division of the 
 chambers, the absolute veto, and the formation 
 of the constitution on the model of that of Eng- 
 land. They even contended for it after the king 
 had, by Neckar's advice, agreed to yield the 
 point. After the vote was passed, they were so 
 much disconcerted that they withdrew from the 
 committee on the constitution, and shortly after 
 left the assembly.* 
 
 Paris, meanwhile, was experiencing the con- 
 vulsions incident to a revolution; all 
 ranks, broken loose from their restraints, p "'^ °^ 
 were rioting in the exercise of newly-ac- 
 quired franchises. In France, as it has been well 
 obser\-ed, the love of liberty is founded chiefly on 
 the love of power. Every body of men in the 
 capital instant!}' commenced the exercise of these 
 intoxicating rights, and the electors invariably 
 assumed the government of their representatives. 
 One hundred and eighty delegates, nom- 
 inated by the districts, assumed a legis- ^s^t^^n 
 lative power in the metropolis ; but they 
 were, in their turn, controlled by their constituents, 
 who, without hesitation, annulled their decrees 
 when not suited to their inclinations; and nothing 
 was agreeable but what flattered their ambition. 
 The idea of ruling by commanding their state of 
 delegates speedily spread, and was too anarchy 
 intoxicating not to be everj'where well '" Pans, 
 received. All those who were not legally vested 
 with authority began to meet, and to give them- 
 selves importance by discussing public aflairs ; 
 the soldiers had debates at the Oratoire, the tailors 
 at the Colonnade, the hairdressers at the Champs 
 Elystes, the valets at the Louvre.t Subsequent 
 ages might smile at such proceedings, if woful 
 experience had not demonstrated how fatal they 
 are in their consequences, and how rapidly the 
 minds of the lower orders become intoxicated by 
 the enjoyment of powers which they are equally 
 incapable of exercising with discretion, or aban- 
 doning without con\-ulsions. 
 
 Meanwhile, the finances of the kingdom, the 
 embarrassment of which had first oc- 
 casioned the convocation of the States- fi!f'^ ° ' 
 
 /-. 1 1 -1 r n- • . tinances. 
 
 General, were daily tailing into a worse 
 condition. The lower orders universally ima- 
 gined that the Revolution was to liberate them 
 from every species of impost; and, amid the 
 wreck of established authority and the collision 
 of .self-constituted powers, they succeeded for 
 some time in realizing their expectations. The 
 collection of the revenue became everywhere 
 difficult, in many places impossible, and the 
 universal distrust which followed a period of 
 general agitation occasioned a lamentable de- 
 
 ♦Th., i., 154. Lac, vii., 165. t Mig., i., 85. 'ni.,llL 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 85 
 
 ficiency in the excise and customs. The public 
 revenue of 1790 was above one third less than 
 that of 1789; in many places the taxes had al- 
 most wholly disappeared ; payment of the salt- 
 tax, the most considerable of tlie direct imposts, 
 was everywhere refused ; and the boasted credit 
 of a revolutionar)' government was soon found 
 to amount to nothing. Alarmed at a deficiency 
 which he had no means of supplying, M. Neck- 
 „_ ar made a full and candid statement 
 
 uff^s ■ of the finances to the assembly, and 
 concluded by demanding a loan of 30,000,000 
 of francs. The falling ofl' in the revenue was 
 above 200,000,000 francs, or i;8,000,000 yearly. 
 The assembly in vain endeavoured to negotiate 
 such an advance. Terror at the imsettled state 
 of the kingdom, uncertainty of the future, pre- 
 vented any of the capitalists from coming for- 
 ward.* 
 
 But this was not all : the demands on the treas- 
 ury were rising as rapidly as their receipts were 
 falling: the usual efiects of a revolution were 
 experienced, an increase in the public expendi- 
 ture, and a diminution to a most alarming extent 
 of the public income. Not only were the forced 
 purchases of grain by government, and their sale 
 at a reduced price, unavoidably increasing, but 
 a large body of workmen, thrown out of employ- 
 ment, were maintained at the public expense, for 
 W'hose support no less than 12,000 trancs, or 
 about j;500, was daily issued from the treasury 
 in Paris alone. The king and queen had sent 
 the whole of their plate to be melted down at the 
 mint, but it proved an inadequate supply for the 
 public necessities, and a.ssuaged for but a short 
 time the miseries of the poor. Finding this pro- 
 ject ineffectual, the minister had the boldness to 
 propose a contribution of a fourth of the income 
 of each individual, and did not disguise that 
 there was no other alternative, and that the re- 
 jection of the measure would lead to a stoppage 
 of the pay of the army and of the interest ol the 
 Se 24 P"^^'^ '^^^*- '^^^ proposal was coldly 
 
 ''^ ■ ■ received by the assembly ; but Mira- 
 beau, in a speech ol vmequalled power, support- 
 ed it. " Two centuries of depredation and 
 abuse," said he, '• have created the gulf in which 
 the kingdom is in peril of being lost. It must 
 be filled up : take the list of the French proprie- 
 tors, choose among them those whose fortune is 
 adequate to supply the deficiency ; let two thou- 
 sand be sacrificed to the good of the whole. You 
 recoil at the barbarous proposal ; alas ! do you 
 not see that if you proclaim a bankruptcy, or, 
 what is the same thing, refuse this impost, you 
 commit an action not less unjust, and still more 
 destructive! Do you believe that the millions 
 of men who will instantly be ruined by such a 
 step, or by its necessary consequences, will al- 
 low you to enjoy the fruits of j'our villanyl 
 that, starving for food, they will suffer you to in- 
 dulge in your detestable enjoyments 1 Shall we 
 be the first to give to the world the example of 
 an assembled people being wanting in public 
 faith 1 Shall the first apostles of freedom sully 
 their hands by an action which will surpass in 
 turpitude the most corrupted governments 1 The 
 other day, on occasion of a ridiculous motion in 
 the Palais Royal, they exclaimed, ' Catiline is 
 at the gates of Rome, and you deliberate !' With 
 truth may it be said now, hideous bankruptcy is 
 there : it threatens to consume yourselves, your 
 
 ♦ Th.. i.,159,160. Dum., 188. Lac, vii., 170. Burke's 
 Cons., Works, v., 406, 408. 
 
 honours, and your fortunes, and you deliberate !" 
 Carried away by this reasoning, the assembly 
 voted the supply;* but the relief to the treasury 
 was inconsiderable, for the distracted state of 
 the kingdom prevented it from being carried into 
 execution. 
 
 But while the assembly was occupied with 
 these discussions, a still more pressing paming j_ 
 evil began to be felt in the capital. Pans. Au- 
 Famine, the natural consequence of gust lo to 
 the public convulsions, want of em- ^''• 
 ployment, the inevitable result of the suspension 
 of credit, pressed severely upon the labouring 
 classes. Mobs became frequent in the streets ; 
 the bakers' shops were surrounded by clamorous 
 multitudes demanding food. The most extrava- 
 gant reports were circulated by the press, and 
 greedily swallowed by the populace, in regard to 
 the causes of the distress. It was the aristocrats 
 who caused the corn to be cut green ; they paid 
 the bakers to suspend their labours ; they turned 
 aside commerce; they threw the grain into the 
 river ; in a word, there was no absurdity or false- 
 hood which they did not implicitly believe. The 
 cry soon became universal, that the measures of 
 the court were the cause of the public distress, 
 and that the only way to provide for the subsist- 
 ence of the people was to secure the person of 
 the king. An attack upon the palace was open- 
 ly discussed in the clubs, and recommended by 
 the orators of the Palais Royal, while the agi- 
 tated state of the public mind, and the number 
 of unemployed artisans who filled the streets, 
 rendered it "but too probable that these threats 
 would speedily be carried into execution. Alarm- 
 ed at these dangers, the court deemed it indis- 
 Eensable to provide for their own security, which 
 itherto depended entirely on the fidelity of four 
 hundred ol the Garde du Corps, who remained 
 on guard at the palace. For this purpose, the 
 regiment of Flanders, and some troops of horse, 
 were brought to Versailles. The arrival of 
 these troops renewed the alarm of the people; 
 the king, at the head of 1500 soldiers, was sup- 
 po,«;ed to be ready to fall upon the insurgent 
 capital, containing a hundred thousand armed 
 men ; and it was alleged with more probability 
 by the better informed, that the design of the 
 court was to retire, with such of the troops as re- 
 mained faithful, to Mentz, where the Marquis 
 de Bouille, at the head of his anny, was to joiu 
 them, and there declare the States-General re- 
 bellious, and revert to the royal declaration of 
 20th June.t 
 
 The minds of the populace were in the highest 
 state of excitation from these causes. Banquet at 
 when an accidental incident blew the Versailles, 
 train into an explosion. A public din- 1st October, 
 ner, according to an old custom in the French 
 army, was given upon their arrival by the Garde 
 du Corps to the officers of the regiment of Flan- 
 ders and of the Urban Guard of Versailles. 
 The banquet was held in the saloon of the opera, 
 while the boxes were filled with illustrious spec- 
 tators, and all the rank and elegance which still 
 adhered to the court graced the assembly by 
 their presence. The enthusiasm of the moment, 
 the recollection of the spot, fonnerly the scene 
 of all the splendour of Versailles, the influence 
 of assembled beautv, all conspired to awaken 
 the chivalrous feelings of the military; the 
 healt h of the king was drunk with enthusiasm, 
 
 * Lac.vii., 178. Th., i., 159,162. 
 t Dumont, 176. L.ic., vii., 184. Toul., i., 130. Mig., 
 i., 87. Th., i., 164, 166. 
 
86 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 and the wish loudly expressed that the royal 
 family would show themselves to their devoted 
 delenders. The officers of the Swiss, and of 
 some other regiments, were admitted to the re- 
 past; and the king appeareJ, attended by the 
 queen, the dauphin, and Madame Elizabeth. At 
 this sight the hall resounded with acclamations, 
 and the monarch, unused to the expression of 
 sincere attachment, was melted into tears. Af- 
 ter the royal family retired, the musicians of the 
 court struck up the pathetic and well-known air, 
 " Oh ! Richard, oh, my king, the world abandons 
 you !" At these sounds the transports of the 
 moment overcame restraint; the officers drew 
 their swords and scaled the boxes, where they 
 were received with enthusiasm by the ladies of 
 the court, and decorated with white cockades by 
 fair hands trembling with agitation.* 
 
 The intelligence of this repast was speedily 
 Agitation in Spread through Paris, magnihed by 
 Pans at this credulity, and augmented by malig- 
 nevvs. nant ambition. It was universally 
 
 credited the following morning at the Palais 
 Royal, in the clubs and market-places, that the 
 dragoons had sharpened their sabres, trampled 
 under foot the tricolour cockade, aft* sworn to 
 exterminate the assembly and the people of 
 Paris. The influence of the ladies of the court, 
 and the distribution of the white or black cock- 
 ades, were represented as particularly alanning 
 by those who had employed the seductions of the 
 Palais Royal to shake the allegiance of the 
 French guards. Symptoms of insurrection speed- 
 ily manilested themselves ; the crowds continued 
 to accumulate in the streets in an alarming 
 manner, until at length, on the moniing of the 
 5th, the revolt openly broke out. A young wom- 
 an seized a drum, and traversed the streets, ex- 
 claiming, "Bread! bread!" She was speedily 
 followed by a crowd, chiefly composed of lemales 
 and boys, which rolled on till it reached the 
 Hotel de Ville, which was broken open and pil- 
 laged of its arms. It was even with difficulty 
 that the infuriated rabble were prevented from 
 setting it on fire. In spite of all opposition, they 
 broke into the belfry and sounded the tocsin, 
 which soon assembled the ardent and formidable 
 bands of the Fauxbourgs. The cr}' immediately 
 arose, raised by the agents of the Duke of Or- 
 leans, " To Versailles !" and a motley multitude 
 of drunken women and tumultuous men, armed 
 and unarmed, set out in that direction. The 
 National Guard, which had assembled on the first 
 appearance of disorder, impatiently demanded 
 to follow; and although their commander, La 
 Fayette, exerted his utmost influence to retain 
 them, he was at length compelled to yield, and 
 at seven o'clock the whole armed force of Paris 
 set out for Versailles. The French guard, which 
 formed the centre of the National Guard, openly 
 declared their determination to seize the king, 
 and exterminate the regiment of Flanders and 
 the body-guard, who had dared to insult the na- 
 tional colours. Hints were even thrown out 
 that the monarch should be deposed, and the 
 Duke of Orleans nominated lieutenant-general 
 of the kingdom.t 
 
 The partisans of this ambitious and wicked, 
 but irresolute prince, had important designs in 
 view in fomenting this burst of popular furj-, 
 and directing it to the royal family at Versailles. 
 
 * Miff., i., 89. Lac, vii., 185, 189. Toul., i., 132. Th., 
 i., 167. 
 
 t Lac, vii., 189, 195, 199. TouL, i., 134. Mig., i., 90. 
 Th., I., 170, 174. 
 
 Their object was to produce such consternation 
 at the court as should induce the king, and all 
 the royal family, to follow the example of the 
 Count d'Artois, and leave the kingdom. The 
 moment this was done, they intended to declare 
 the throne vacant, and ofler it, under the title of 
 lieutenant-general, to the Duke of Orleans. 
 But the firmness of the king and his brother, af- 
 terward Louis XVIII., who saw through the 
 design, caused the plot to fail; and the multi- 
 tude, who were to be the instruments in produ- 
 cing the alarm, but could not, of course, be let 
 into the secret, rendered it totally abortive, by in- 
 sisting, at the close of the tumult, that the king 
 and royal family should be brought to Paris; 
 the event of all others which the Orleans party 
 most ardently desired to avoid.* 
 
 The minds of the members of the assembly, 
 and of the inhabitants of Versailles, state of the 
 though less violently excited, were in assembly 
 an alarming mood. The king had re- and the 
 fused his sanction to the Declaration court, 
 of the Rights of Man ; and the assembly, piqued 
 at any obstacle to their sovereigntv, were in 
 sullen hostility. The queen had been heard to 
 express her delight at the banquet of the officers; 
 and the assemblage of troops, joined to some 
 hints dropped by the courtiers, led to a belief 
 that a movement of the seat of the assembly 
 and of the court, to Tours or Mentz, was in con- 
 templation. No one, however, anticipated any 
 immediate danger; the king was out at a hunt- 
 ing party, and the assembly just breaking up, 
 when the forerunners of the disorderly multitude 
 began to appear in the streets. At the first in- 
 telligence of the disturbance, the monarch re- 
 turned with expedition to the town, where the 
 appearance of things exhibited the most hideous 
 features of a revolution. The rails in front of 
 the courtyard of the palace were closed, and the 
 regiment of Flanders, the body-guards, and the 
 National Guard of Versailles, drawn up within, 
 facing the multitude; while without, an im- 
 mense crowd of armed men. National Guards, 
 and furious women, uttering seditious cries, 
 and clamouring for bread, were assembled. The 
 ferocious looks of the insurgents, their haggard 
 countenances, and uplifted arms, bespoke but 
 too plainly their savage intentions. Nothing 
 was done to secure the safety of the xhe mob 
 royal family ; though the Swiss guards proceed to 
 lay at Ruel and Courbevoie, no at- VersaiUes. 
 tempt was made to bring them to the scene of 
 danger. The commander of the troops, the 
 Count d'Estaing, seemed to have lost that daring 
 spirit which he had fonnerly evinced, and sub- 
 sequently displayed on the scaffold.t 
 
 The multitude soon broke into the hall of the 
 assembly ; and that august body, for And sur- 
 the first time, beheld themselves outra- round tha 
 ged by the popular passions which they palace, 
 had awakened. For above an hour they were 
 insulted by the insolent rabble, who seated them- 
 selves on the benches, menaced some of the dep- 
 uties with punishment, and commanded silence 
 to others. '• Lose no time," they exclaimed, "in 
 satisfying us, or blood will sooii begin to flow !" 
 Maillard, the orator of the insurgents, openly de- 
 nounced Mounier, Clermont Tonnerre, and other 
 courageous deputies, who had exposed the de- 
 sings of the Orleans faction. In the gallery a 
 crowd of fishwomen were assembled, under the 
 
 * Memoirs of Louis XVIIL, iv., 374. 
 
 t Mig.,i.,91. Th.,i.,16S,172. Lac, vii., 192, 204, 205. 
 
1789.J 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 87 
 
 guidance of one virago with stentorian lungs, 
 who called to the deputies tkmiliarly by name, 
 and insisted that their favourite Mirabeau should 
 speak.* 
 
 In the confusion on the outside, an officer of 
 the guard struck with his sabre a Parisian sol- 
 dier, who immediately discharged his musket at 
 him ; a general discharge of firearms from the 
 guards ensued, which produced great consterna- 
 tion, but did little or no execution. The Nation- 
 al Guard of Versailles, aided by the multitude, 
 followed tliem to their barracks, whither they 
 had been ordered to retire, forced the gates, pilla- 
 ged the rooms, and wounded some of the men. 
 The court were in consternation, and the horses 
 already harnessed to the carriages, to convey the 
 royal family from the scene of danger ; but the 
 king, who was apprehensive that, if he fled, the 
 Duke of Orleans would be immediately declared 
 lieutenant-general of the kingdom, refused to 
 move. The mob soon penetrated into the royal 
 apartments, as the guards were prohibited from 
 oflering any resistance, and were received with 
 so much condescension and dignity by the king 
 and queen, that they forgot the purpose of their 
 visit, and left the royal presence, exclaiming 
 Vive le Rol ! A heavy rain, which began to fall 
 in the evening, cooled the ardour of the multi- 
 tude, and before nightfall, the arrival of La Fay- 
 ette with the National Guard of Paris, restored 
 some degree of order to the environs of the pal- 
 ace.t 
 
 During these tumults the king was distracted 
 by the most cruel incertitude. Mounier conju- 
 red him to vanquish his scruples, and accept 
 simply the articles of constitution proposed by 
 the assembly; the queen, to act boldly, and de- 
 fend his kingdom. Two carriages, ready har- 
 nessed, were kept at the gate of the Orangerie, 
 but the crowd discovered them, and assembled 
 to prevent their departure ; the king commanded 
 the Count d'Estaing to disperse the mob at that 
 point, but he declined, alleging that the thing 
 was impossible ; the king urged the queen to de- 
 part, and take the royal family with her, but she 
 declared that nothing could induce her, in such 
 an extremity, to separate from her husband. " I 
 know," she added, " that they seek my life ; but 
 I am the daughter of Maria Theresa, and have 
 learned not to fear death." Assailed by so many 
 subjects of anxiety, the king at length resolved 
 upon submission, and Mounier was authoriz%l 
 to announce to the assembly his unqualified ac- 
 ceptance of the nineteen articles of the constitu- 
 tion already framed, and his adhesion to the Dec- 
 laration of the Rights of Man.; 
 
 But matters were now arrived at that pass 
 when these concessions could produce no effect. 
 A multitude of drunken women had broken into 
 the hall of the assembly, lay extended on its 
 benches, and one shameless amazon occupied the 
 president's chair, and in derision was ringing his 
 bell. The deputies in vain endeavoured to re- 
 store order ; the debates were incessantly inter- 
 rupted by cries of " Bread ! bread !" and nothing 
 but the authority of Mirabeau could procure si- 
 lence even for the discussion of the measure of 
 providing for the public subsistence. At three 
 in the morning the sitting was broken up, and 
 the hall left in possession of its unruly invaders.§ 
 
 * Dumont, 181, 182. Lac, vii., 208. Toul., i., 135. 
 
 t Memoirs of Louis XVIII. iv., 382. Toul., j., 136, 137. 
 Mi?., i.,92. 
 
 t Lac, vii., 215, 216, 219. Th., i., 176. 
 
 * Toul., i., 159. 
 
 La FayRtte had an interview with the royal 
 family, and assured them of the secu- La Fayette 
 rity of the palace. He added that he rime's to 
 was so well convinced of the pacific sleep, 
 disposition of his army, and had so much confi- 
 ilence in the preservation of the public tranquil- 
 lity, that he was resolved to retire to rest.* 
 Misled by tliese assurances, the assembly dis- 
 persed, and repaired to their several homes; and 
 the king and queen, overcome with fatigue, re- 
 tired to their apartments. The external posts 
 were intrusted to the troops commanded by La 
 Fayette ; the interior were still in the hands of 
 the body-guard of the king.t Unfortunately for 
 his reputation, and for the honour of France, 
 General La Fayette followed their example, and 
 repaired, for the remainder of the night, to a 
 chateau at some distance from the palace, where 
 he soon after fell asleep.: 
 
 Nothing occurred to interrupt the public tran- 
 quillity from three till five in the morning; but 
 the aspect of the populace presaged an approach- 
 ing stonn. Large groups of savage men and in- 
 toxicated women were seated round the watch- 
 fires in all the streets of Versailles, and reliev- 
 ed the tedium of a rainy night by singing revo- 
 lutionary songs. In one of these circles their 
 exasperation was such, that, seated on the corpse 
 of one of the body-guard, they devoured the flesh 
 of his horse half-roasted in the flames, while a 
 ring of frantic cannibals danced round the group. 
 Everything announced that they were determin- 
 ed to assuage their thirst for blood by some in- 
 discriminate massacre. At six o'clock a furi- 
 ous mob surrounded the barracks of The moi) 
 the body-guard, broke them open, and break into 
 pursued the flying inmates to the gates '■^^ palace, 
 of the jialace, where fifteen were seized and 
 doomed to immediate execution. At the same 
 time, another body besieged the avenues to the 
 palace, and, finding a gate open, rushed in, and 
 speedily filled the staircases and vestibules of 
 the royal apartments. Two of the body-guard, 
 posted at the head of the stair, made the most 
 heroic resistance, and by their efforts gave time 
 to the queen to escape into the apartments of the 
 king. The assassins rushed into her room a 
 few minutes after she had left it, and, enraged at 
 finding their victim escaped, pierced her bed 
 with their bayonets.§ The whole interior of the 
 palace was ransacked by the savage multitude ; 
 the splendour of ages was suddenly exposed to 
 the indiscriminate gaze of the lowest of the peo- 
 ple. 
 
 Apparct domus intus, et atria longa patescunt: 
 Apparent Pnaiiii et vcterum penetralia regum : 
 Arniatosque vident slantes in limine primo. 
 
 But for the intrepid defence of the body-guard, 
 and the exertions of the Marquis de Almost 
 Vaudi'euil; who succeeded in reviving murder the 
 in the French guards some sparks of q"een. 
 their ancient loyalty, the king himself and the 
 whole royal family would have fallen a prey to 
 the assassins. They dragged the bodies of two 
 of the body-guard, who had been massacred, te- 
 \o\v the windows of the king, beheaded them, 
 and carried the bloody heads in triumph upon 
 the points of their pikes through the streets of 
 Versailles.il 
 
 * Riv., 300. t Th., I., 178. 
 
 t Riv., 300. Misr., i.. 93. 
 
 01i?.,i.,93. Lac, vii., 217, 232, 233. Th..i., ISO. Riv., 
 305. 313. 
 
 II Lac, vii., 234, 237. Riv., 307. Mig., i., 93. Th., i , 
 180. 
 
88 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPB:. 
 
 [Chap. UI. 
 
 At the first alarm, General La Faj'ette, whose 
 unfortunate absence from the scene of danger 
 had produced such alarming efl'ects, threw him- 
 self upon his horse and hastened to the spot. 
 He made an impassioned harangue to the grena- 
 diers of the guard, and succeeded in prevailing 
 upon them to defend the captives. The fifteen 
 prisoners were thus rescued from impending 
 death ; and the king himself having come to the 
 windows and demanded their lives from the 
 multitude, they ultimate!}- escaped. Three oth- 
 ers, who had already the halter about their 
 necks, and were on the point of being strangled, 
 were saved by some ot these brave men, who 
 flew to their deliverance, exclaiming, "Let us 
 save the body-guard, as they saved us at Fonte- 
 noy !"* Amid the fury of the multitude and the 
 atrocity of faction, it is pleasing to record that 
 in moments of extreme danger the ancient gen- 
 erosity of the French militaiy character mani- 
 fested itself on both sides of the contest. 
 
 The conduct of the queen during these mo- 
 Heroic con- nients of alarm was worthy of the 
 duct of tlie highest admiration. Notwithstanding 
 queen. the shots which were fired at tlie win- 
 
 dows, she persisted in appearing at the balcony, 
 to endeavour to obtain the pardon of the body- 
 guards, who were in peril from the exasperated 
 multitude : when M. Luzeme endeavoured to 
 place himself between her and the danger, she 
 gently removed him, alleging that that was her 
 post, "and that the king could not aftbrd to lose 
 so faithful a servant. Shortly after, the crowd 
 vociferously demanded that she should appear 
 at the window; she came forth, accompanied 
 with her children; twenty thousand voices im- 
 mediately exclaimed, " AAva)' with the children !" 
 and the queen, sending them in, reappeared alone, 
 in presence of a mob from whom she expected 
 instant death. The generous contempt of per- 
 sonal danger overcame the furj' of the populace.t 
 and universal shouts of applause testified their 
 sense of the reality of the peril which she had 
 braved. 
 
 The leaders of the tumult now resolved to de- 
 rive some advantage from their success, by re- 
 moving the king and the royal family to Paris, 
 where they would be entirely subjected to their 
 control. Immediately the cry was raised among 
 the populace, " Let us bring the king to Paris ! 
 it is the only way of securing bread to our chil- 
 dren." La Fayette persuaded the king, as the 
 only means of appeasing the tumult, to accede 
 to the wishes of the people, and, accompanied 
 by the king and queen, appeared at the balcony 
 of the palace, and gave that assurance to the 
 multitude. The assembly, informed of his de- 
 termination, hastily passed a resolution that it 
 was inseparable from the king, and woidd ac- 
 company him to the capital. Thus the demo- 
 cratical party, as the fruit of their violence, ob- 
 tained the immense advantage of having both 
 branches of the legislature transferred to a place 
 where their own influence was irresistible.^ 
 
 At noon the royal party set out for Paris ; a 
 The royal hundred deputies of the assembly ac- 
 familycome companied their carriage. All their 
 to Pans. exertions, all the authority of M. La 
 Octobers. Fayette, were unable to prevent the 
 people from carrying in the front of the proces- 
 sion the two heads of the privates of the body- 
 guard who had been decapitated under the win- 
 
 * l.ac, vii., 238. Riv.,S09. Th., i., 180. 
 tRiv., 312. Lac, vii., 241. Th.,i., 182. 
 t Mig., i., 94, 95. Riv., 31. Th., i., 182. 
 
 dows of the palace. The remains of that gallant 
 band, almost all wounded, and in the deepest de- 
 jection, followed the carriage ; around it were 
 cannon, dragged by the populace, bestrode by 
 frantic women ; from every side arose songs 
 of triumph, mingled with revolutionary songs. 
 " Here is the baker, his wife, and the little ap- 
 prentice !" exclaimed the women, in derision, at 
 the king, the queen, and the dauphin. Loaves 
 of bread, borne on the point of lances, every- 
 where appeared, to indicate the plenty which the 
 return of the sovereign was expected to confer 
 upon the capital. The monarch, after a painful 
 journey of seven hours, during which he was 
 compelled to drink, drop by drop, the bitterest 
 dregs in the cup of humiliation, entered Paris, 
 a captive among his own subjects, and adorning 
 the triumph of the most inveterate of his en- 
 emies. He was conducted to the Hotel de Ville, 
 and thence to the Tuileries, which thencefor- 
 ward became his palace and his prison.* 
 
 Thus terminated the first era of the Revolu- 
 tion ; a period more fruitful in great vast changes 
 events than airy which had occurred introduced by 
 since the foundation of the monar- '^'"^ assembly, 
 chy. Just five months had elapsed since the 
 meeting of the States-General, and during that 
 time not only the power of the sovereign had 
 been overthrown, but the very structure of soci- 
 ety changed. Instead of an absolute government 
 had succeeded a turbulent democracy; instead 
 of an obsequious nobility, a discontented legisla- 
 ture ; instead of the pride of ancient, the inso- 
 lence of newly-acquired power. The right to 
 tithes, the most venerable institution of the Uliri.s- 
 tian Church; the feudal privileges, coeval with 
 the first conquest of Gaul by the followers of 
 Clovis ; the immunities of corporations, pur- 
 chased by the blood of infant freedom, had all 
 perished. The principle of universal equality 
 had been recognised; all autliority admitted to 
 llow from the people ; and the right of insurrec- 
 tion numbered among the most sacred of the so- 
 cial duties. The power of the sovereign wa.s 
 destroyed ; he had been insulted, and narrowly 
 escaped being murdered in his own palace, and 
 was now a captive, surrounded by perils, in the 
 midst of his capital. Changes which were hard- 
 ly brought about in England since the time of 
 Alfred, were effected in France in less than five 
 months. 
 
 •Experience might well have taught the pro- 
 moters of the French Revolution _. . 
 .1 .^ 1 • • ■• ,• Their excess- 
 
 that such excessive precipuation j^^ rashness, 
 could lead to nothing but disastrous 
 results. Notliing durable in nature is made but 
 by the slowest degrees ; the flowers of summer 
 are as ephemeral as the warmth which produces 
 them; the oak, the growth of centuries, survives 
 the maturity and the decay of empires.* The do- 
 minion of Alexander, raised in a few years, per- 
 ished within the lifetime of those who witnessed 
 its birth; the Roman Empire, formed in a suc- 
 cession of ages, endured a thousand years. It 
 is in vain to suppose that the habits of a nation 
 can be changed, and its character altered, by 
 merely giving it new institutions. We cannot 
 give to childhood the firmness of maturity by 
 putting on the di-ess of manhood. 
 
 It is no apology for the Constituent Assembly 
 to say that they committed no violence them- 
 selves; that their measures were in great part 
 
 * Mi?., i., S5. Riv., 322, 323. Th., i., 182. Lac, vii., 
 24S. Burke, v., 142. 
 
1789.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 adopted from the purest philanthropy ; that they 
 were themselves the victims of the taction which 
 disgraced the Revolution. In public men we ex- 
 pect not merely good intentions, but prudent con- 
 duct; it is no excuse to those who have done 
 evil to assert that they did so that good might 
 come of it. If we pull down with too much 
 haste, we do as much mischief as if we retain 
 with too much obstinacy: the virtuous should 
 always recollect that, if they remove the half, the 
 reckless will speedily destroy the whole. 
 
 The danger of political changes arises not 
 Danger of from their immediate, but their ulti- 
 sudden m- mate consequcnces ; not from those 
 novation, -^-jjg originate, but those who follow 
 them up. Alterations once rashly commenced 
 cannot easily be stopped ; the tever of innovation 
 seizes the minds of the energetic part of man- 
 kind, and the prudent speedily become unable to 
 stem the torrent. The prospect of gain rouses 
 the ambitious and the reckless ; they issue from 
 obscurity to share the spoil, and in the stniggle 
 rapidly acquire an ascendency. They do so 
 because they are not restrained by the scruples 
 which influence the good, nor by the apprehen- 
 sions which paralyze the opulent. Having no- 
 thing to lose, they are indifierent as to the conse- 
 quences of their actions; having no principles, 
 they accommodate themselves to those of the 
 most numerous and least worthy of the people. 
 Revolutions are chiefly dangerous because they 
 bring such characters into public situations ; the 
 Constituent Assembly was chiefly blamable be- 
 cause it pursued a course which roused them 
 from every part of France. 
 
 They themselves were the first to experience 
 the truth of these principles. In their haste to 
 .subdue the throne, they raised the people, and 
 speedily became subjected to tlie power they ex- 
 pected to govern. The victor)- ol the 5th of Oc- 
 tober was not less over the legislature than the 
 throne ; brought to Paris without protection, they 
 were at the mercy of the populace, and not less 
 enthralled than the king in his prison. The ul- 
 timate consequence did not appear for some 
 years : but the reign of terror (lowed naturally 
 from the publication of the Rights of Man, and 
 the decimation of the Convention from the rash- 
 ness of the Constituent Assembly. 
 
 Faults were committed on both sides; inexpe- 
 
 „ rience in the management of so mi- 
 
 trrors ou 1 1 i j i . 
 
 l>oth sides, paralleled a convulsion may excuse 
 them in the commencement of the 
 French Revolution ; but their consequences are 
 not the less clearly marked for the instruction of 
 future ages. 
 
 I. The government unquestionably erred in 
 delaying too long the important step of redress- 
 ing the grievances that were complained of 
 The declaration of Louis, on 23d June, removed 
 all the real evils of France ; it would have been 
 hailed with transport at an earlier period, and the 
 monarch \jifio granted it celebrated as a second 
 Marcus Aurelias:* coming, as it did, during a 
 period of excitement, it rather betrayed weakness 
 than inspired confidence. Conciliatory meas- 
 ures are admirable, if pursued by government 
 before war is declared; ihey are ruinous if at- 
 tempted by a general on the 'eve of battle. 
 
 II. M. Neckar as clearly erred in doubling 
 Imprudence of ^^^ ""'"^^'^ ."/' '.^^^ Tiers Etat ; Na- 
 M. Neckar. poleon ascribed to that lU-judged 
 
 step all the subsequent horrors of 
 
 ' Bai]ly, i., 127. Th., i., 32. 
 Vol. I.— M 
 
 the Revolution.* By doing so, he rendered om- 
 nipotent a single interest in the commonwealth 
 and reduced the States-General, when assembled 
 together, to a state of entire dependance on one 
 of its branches. So great an accession of power 
 to any body is at all times dangerous, but it be- 
 comes doubly so when that body is in a state of 
 ferment, and ambitious to overleap the barriers 
 of the other classes in the state. M. Neckar was 
 seduced into this step by the intoxicating pros- 
 pect of a popular administration ; he found his 
 influence gone when the boon was conceded, 
 and he was constrained to resist the increasing 
 demands of the people. 
 
 III. When the fatal measure of doubling the 
 commons was once adopted, it became indispen- 
 sably necessaiy to maintain the separation of the 
 Chambers. It was a mere mockery to expect 
 the nobles and the clergy to keep their place in 
 an assembly where they were immediately out- 
 voted by a majority of two to one. What would 
 be the fate of England if its three hundred 
 peers were sent to contend, in moments of agita- 
 tion, with six hundred popular representatives 
 in the House of Commons ? This point should 
 never have been conceded; it is contrary to the con- 
 stitution of even,' European government, and wa.s 
 attended with such disastrous consequences that 
 the National Convention itself was compelled in 
 the end to re-establish the separation of the Cham- 
 bers, and rescind that very Tennis-court Oath 
 which at first excited such universal transports. 
 
 IV. The accession of the clergy to the Tiers; 
 Etat was the immediate cause of the compulsory 
 union of the Chambers; its first eflect was the 
 annihilation of the whole property of the Church. 
 The case was exactly the same in Scotland ; the 
 efforts of the clergy destroyed the Catholic hierar- 
 ch)', and the barons instantly seized its whole 
 property, and reduced the Protestant ministers 
 to a state of beggary. Such is the progress of 
 revolutions; the ambitious take advantage of 
 the simplicity or enthusiasm of the good, and 
 smile when they are expected to relinquish any 
 part of the spoil which they have gained by their 
 aid, and enjoy at their expense. Gratitude is 
 never to be expected from public bodies; and 
 none are more certain of destruction than those 
 whose assistance first put the movement in mo- 
 tion, the instant they attempt to coerce its ex- 
 cesses. 
 
 V. Beyond all doubt, the revolt of the French 
 guards was the most decisive event in the Reva- 
 lution ; it speedily drew afler it the defection of 
 the whole anny. The treason of a single regi- 
 ment, by shaking the confidence of the remaindes 
 in each other, produced the most fatal conse- 
 quences. The French government, in this re- 
 spect, grievously erred in intrusting the defence of 
 the metropolis to a body of men constituted as the 
 Gardes Franj;aiscs were ; that is, constantly dwell- 
 ing within its walls, intimate with its citizens, 
 sharing its sentiments, and corrupted by its en- 
 joyments. Like the Prsstorian Guards, their 
 proximity to the capital overawed its inhabi- 
 tants, while their familiarity with its vices se- 
 duced their allegiance. No true spirit of patriot- 
 ism animated their bosoms; they forgot not that 
 they were soldiers to remember that they were 
 men ; their oaths were broken amid the fumes 
 of intoxication, their loyalty perished amid the 
 em' races of courtesans. 
 
 VI. The position of the national assembly, 
 
 Bour., viii., 109. 
 
so 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. III. 
 
 and the residence of the monarch, during it.s 
 siLiing, so near the capital, was a grievous error, 
 of which both had ample cause to repent. Free- 
 dom of deliberation was out of the question in 
 such a situation ; at first the deputies were car- 
 ried away by the contagion of popular feeling; 
 latterly, tney were enslaved by the terror of pop- 
 ular violence. All the insurrections which es- 
 tablished the Reign of Terror, the captivity of 
 the king, the subjugation of the assembly, were 
 owing w the perilous vicinity of Paris. If the 
 great work of national reformation is to be suc- 
 cessfully carried through, it must be in a remote 
 or seeuie situation, where the applause and the 
 violence of the multitude are equally removed, 
 and the minds of men are not liable to be swayed 
 by the ttatteiy, or intimidated by the threats of 
 tne people intrusted to their care. 
 
 VII. Long belbre the era at which we have 
 DOW arrived, the period had come w^hen it be- 
 hooved the kmg, and all the friends either of con- 
 stitutional oruer or real freedom, to have taken 
 the course of intrepid resistance, or perished in 
 the attempt. The Ibrcible union of the legisla- 
 ture in a single chamber, the confiscation of the 
 church e .tales, the formation of a highly demo- 
 •cratic constitution, inconsistent with anything 
 like public order, and the refusal of the absolute 
 veto, in defiance of the cahiers, from every part 
 of France, were all acf,s of violence, from which 
 nothing but the establishment of democratic tyr- 
 aimy was to be anticipated. But when, in ad- 
 dition to all this, the king was besieged by a 
 furious mob in his own palace, when his apart- 
 ments were ransacked, and his consort all but 
 murdered by hired assassins, the rule of law, as 
 well as of authority, was at an end : the hour had 
 arrived to conquer or die. By resistance in that 
 .extremity, he at least had a chance of rousing the 
 better class of the nation to his and their own 
 •defence ; but for the fatal emigration of the no- 
 blesse, he unquestionably would have done so. 
 But to yield to such outrages, to submit to be 
 led a captive amid drunken mobs to his o^vn 
 palace, was to place his neck beneath the lowest 
 of the populace, and prepare, in the unresisted 
 ascendant of guilt, for all the sanguinary excess- 
 es which followed.* 
 
 But the most ruinous step of the Constituent 
 Fatal crea- Assembly, that which rendered all 
 tiou of rcvu- the others irreparable, was the great 
 lutioiiaryin- number of revolutionary' interests 
 terests. which they created. By transferring 
 
 political power into new and inexperienced 
 hands, who valued the acquisition in proportion 
 to their unfitness to exercise it; by creating a 
 host of new proprietors, dependant upon the new 
 system for their existence ; by placing the armed 
 and civil force entirely at the disposal of the 
 populace, they founded lasting interests upon 
 the fleeting fervour of the moment, and perpetu- 
 ated the march of the Revolution, when the peo- 
 ple would willingly have reverted to a monar- 
 chical government. The persons who had gain- 
 ed either power or property by these changes, it 
 was soon found, would yield them up only to 
 force ; the individuals who would be endangered 
 by a return to a legal system, strove to the ut- 
 most of their power to prevent it. The prodi- 
 gious changes in properly and political power, 
 therefore, which the Constituent Assembly intro- 
 duced, rendered the alternative of a revolution, 
 or a bloody civil war, unavoidable; for, though 
 
 * Mounier, ii., 90, 91. 
 
 passion is fleeting, the interests which changes 
 created by passion may have produced are last- 
 ing in their operation. The subsequent annals 
 of the Revolution exhibited many occasions on 
 which the people struggled hard to shake ofi'the 
 tyranny which it had created; none in which 
 the gainers by its innovations did not do their 
 utmost to prevent a return to a constitutional or 
 legal government. This was the great cause of 
 the difference between the subsequent progress 
 of the French and the English Revolutions; the 
 Long Parliament and Cromwell made no essen- 
 tial changes in the property or political franchi- 
 ses of Great Britain, and, consequently, after the 
 military usurper expired, no powerful revolu- 
 tionary interests existed to resist a return to the 
 old constitution. In France, before the Constit- 
 uent Assembly had sat six months, they had 
 rendered a total change of society unavoidable, 
 because they had transferred to the multitude the 
 influence or possessions of a great portion of 
 the state. 
 
 The Constituent Assembly, if it has done no- 
 thing else, has at least bequeathed one important 
 political lesson to mankind, which is, the vanity 
 of the hope that, by conceding to the demands of 
 a revolutionary party for an increase of political 
 power, it is possible to put a stop to farther en- 
 croachments. It is the nature of such a desire, 
 as of every other vehement passion, to be insa- 
 tiable; to fieed on concessions and acquisitions; 
 and become more powerful and dangerous ia 
 proportion as less remains for it to obtain. This 
 truth was signally demonstrated by the history 
 of this memorable assembly. Concessions there 
 went on at the gallop ; the rights of the king, the 
 nobles, the clergy, the parliament, the corpora- 
 tions, the provinces, were abandoned as fast as 
 they were attacked. Resistance was nowhere 
 attempted ; and yet the popular party incessantly 
 rose in their demands. Democratic ambition 
 was never so violent as when it had triumphed 
 over ever>' other authority in the state. The 
 legislature, the leaders of the state, in vain strove 
 to maintain their ascendency by giving up every- 
 thing which their antagonists demanded ; in pro- 
 portion as they receded, their opponents advan- 
 ced, and the party which had professed at first a 
 desire only for a fair proportion of political in- 
 fluence, soon became indignant if the slightest 
 opposition was made to its authority.* 
 
 This extraordinar}' fact suggests an important 
 conclusion in political science, which was first 
 enunciated by Mr. Burke, but has, since his 
 time, been abundantly verified by experience.t 
 This is, that there is a wide difierence between 
 popular convulsions which spring from real 
 grievances, and those which arise merely from 
 popular zeal or democratic ambition. There is 
 a boundary to men's passions when they act 
 from reason, resentment, or interest, but none 
 when they are stimulated by imagination or am- 
 bition. Remove the grievances complained of, 
 and when men act from the first nTotives, you 
 go a great way towards quieting a commotion. 
 But the good or bad conduct of a government, 
 the protection men have enjoyed, or the oppres- 
 sion they have suffered under it, are of no sort 
 of moment when a faction, proceeding on specu- 
 lative grounds, is thoroughly heated against its 
 form. It is the combination of these two differ- 
 ent principles, so opposite in nature and char- 
 acter, but yet co-operating at the moment in the 
 
 * Burke's Consid., v. , 89. 
 
 t Biuke, v-i., 239. 
 
1789.1 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 91 
 
 same effect, which renders the management of 
 a nation in such circumstances so extremely 
 difficult; for the concessions and reforms which 
 are the appropriate rem.edies for, and are best 
 calculated to remove the discontent arising from 
 the real grievances, are precisely the steps most 
 likely to rouse to the highest pitch the fervour 
 springing from the imaginative passions. 
 
 The errors of the Constituent Assembly may 
 all be traced to one source: the evils of despot- 
 ism were recent, and had been experienced ; those 
 of democracy remote, and hitherto unfelt. No 
 such excuse will remain for any subsequent 
 legislature. If the French Revolution had done 
 
 nothing else, it has conferred a lasting blessing 
 on mankind by exposing the consequences of 
 hasty innovation, and writing in characters of 
 blood the horrors of anarchy on the page of his- 
 tory. Let us hope that the dreadlul lesson has 
 not been taught in vain ; that a whole generation 
 has not perished under the guillotine, or been 
 crushed beneath the car of ambition, only to 
 make way for a repetition of the errors by future 
 ages ; and that from the sanguinaiy annals of 
 its suffering the great truth may be learned, that 
 true wi.sdom consists in repairing, not destroy- 
 ing, and that nothing can retard the march of 
 freedom but the violence of its supporters. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FROM THE REVOLT .iT VER-S-ilLLES TO THE CONCLUSION OF THE CONSTITUENT ASSEMBLY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Dismissal of the Duke of Orleans. — Retirement of Mounier 
 and Lally Tullendal.— Tumults in Pans.— Tiial and Exe- 
 cution oi the Marquis Favras. — Division of France into 
 Departments. — Municipal Regulation.s. — Elective Fran- 
 chise. — Vast Effect of these Changes. — Confiscation of the 
 Property of the Church. — Issue of Assi^nats. — Sale of 
 Church Property. — Its Effects on the Subdivision of Land. 
 — Vehement Resistance of theClergy. — Abolition of Titles 
 of Honour. — Judicial Establishment. — Military Organiza- 
 tion. — General Establishment of National Guards and 
 Armed Pikemen.— F^to of 14lh July, the Anniversary of 
 the Storming of the Bastile. — Accusation of the Duke of 
 Orleans and Mirabeau. — Neckar's Fall.— Change of Minis- 
 try. — Revolt at Mentz and Sedan. — M. de BouiUe. — Eccle- 
 siastical Oath. — Its ruiuous Effects. — Revolutionary Law 
 of Inheritance. — Clubs in Pans. — Jacobins. — Cordeliers. 
 — General Emigration. — Discussion on a Law against the 
 Emigrants. — Mirabeau joins the Throne. — His Death. — 
 Plans of the Court. — Journey to Varennes. — Arrest of the 
 King, and his Return to Paris. — Firet Origin of Republi- 
 can Principles. — Royal Authority suspended. — Debate on 
 the Impeachment of the King. — Vigorous Measures of the 
 Assembly. — Revolt in the Champ de Mars. — Victory of 
 La Fayette. — p'ailure to follow up the step. — Proposed 
 Modification of the Constitution. — Self-denying Ordinance. 
 — The King nominally reinvested with his Power. — Clo- 
 sing of the Assembly. — Its immense Changes. — General 
 Reflections on its Errors and beneficial Measures. 
 
 "Semper in civitate," says Sallust, "quibus 
 opes nullce sunt, bonis invident, malos extollunt ; 
 Vetera odere, nova exoptant, odio suarum rerum 
 mutari omnia student ; turba atque seditionibus 
 sine cura aluntur; quoniam egesta.s facile habe- 
 tur sine damno. Sed urbana plebes ea vero prx- 
 ceps ierat multis de causis ; nam qui ubique 
 probro atque petulantiamaxime pragstabant, item 
 alii per dedecora patrimoniis amissis, postremo 
 omnes quos flagitium aut facinus domo expulerat, 
 hi Romam sicuti in sentinam confluxerant.*t 
 The French a.ssembly experienced the truth of 
 these principles in a remarkable mamrer, upon 
 the removal of the seat of its deliberations to the 
 metropolis. To the natural depravity of a great 
 city, its population added the extraordinary cor- 
 ruption arising from the profligacy and irreligion 
 of preceding reigns. Never were objects of such 
 
 * Sallust, Helium Cat., sec. 37. 
 
 t " In every country, those who have no property envy the 
 good, extol the bad, deride antiquity, support innovation, 
 iiesire change from the alarming state of their own affairs, 
 live in mobs and tumults, since poverty has nothing to fear 
 from such convulsions. But many causes made the city 
 populace pre-eminent m these respects ; for whoever in the 
 provinces were most remarkable for tlieir depravity or self- 
 sufficiency— all who had lost their patrimony or their place 
 in society — all whom wickedness or disgrace had driven from 
 their homes, found their way to Rome as the common sewer 
 of the Republic."— Sallust, Cat. War, 4 37. 
 
 magnitude offered to the passions of a people so 
 little accustomed to coerce them ; never was flat- 
 tery so intoxicating poured into the minds of men 
 so little fitted to withstand it. The National A.s- 
 sembly, with a fatal precipitance, placed itself 
 without any protection at the mercy of the most 
 corrupted populace in Europe, at the period of 
 their highest excitation. 
 
 The removal of the court to Paris produced 
 immediate changes of importance in the j,^, r 
 contending parties. The Duke of Or- Orleans 
 leans was the fir.st to decline. General sent to 
 La Fayette exerted himself to show that England, 
 he was the secret author of the disturb- *'^'' ' 
 ances which had so nearly proved fatal to the 
 royal family, and declared publicly that he pos- 
 sessed undoubted proofs of his accession to the 
 tumult, with the design of making himself lieu- 
 tenant-general of the kingdom. "The coward!" 
 said Mirabeau; "he has the appetite for crime, 
 but not the courage to execute it."* Even at the 
 Palais Royal his influence was lost except with 
 his hireling supporters ; and the king, glad to get 
 quit of so dangerous a subject, with the entire 
 concurrence of the National Assembly sent him 
 into honourable exile on a mission to the court 
 of London. 
 
 From this departure nothing but good was to 
 he expected ; but the secession of other Retirement 
 members diminished the influence of of Mounier 
 reason in the assembly. Mounier and and Lally 
 Lally Tollendal, despairing of the Tollendai. 
 cause of order, retired from tiie capital ; and the 
 fonner established himself in Dauphiny, his 
 native province, where he endeavoured to or- 
 ganize an opposition to the assembly.t The de- 
 parture of these virtuous patriots was a serious 
 calamity to France ; it weakened the friends of 
 rational freedom, and by extending the fatal ex- 
 
 * Toul., i., 152. Lac, vii., 259. Th., i., 184, 185, 186. 
 
 t The latter has justified himself to one of his friends for 
 retiring from public life. " My health renders my continuance 
 in the assembly impossible ; but, laying that aside, I could 
 no longer endure the horror occasioned by that blood, those 
 heads, that queen half murdered, that king led a captive ia 
 the midst of assassins, and preceded by the heads of the un- 
 happy guards who had died in his sen'ice ; those murderers, 
 those female cannibals, that infernal cry, ' A la lanteme 
 tons les evfiques ;' Mirabeau exolauiiing that the vessel of 
 the Revolution, far from being arrested in its course, would 
 now advance with more rapidity than ever: these are the 
 circumstances which have induced me to fly from that den 
 of cannibals, where my voice can no longer be heard, and 
 for BIX weeks I have strove in vain to raise it." — L^CBE- 
 TELLE, vii., 265, 266. 
 
92 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 ample of defection, left the country a prey to the 
 ambitious men M'ho were striving to raise them- 
 selves on the public calamities. They had ex- 
 pected that the people, after having delivered the 
 assembly on the 14th July, would immediately 
 submit themselves to its authority ; they were the 
 first to find that popular commotions are more 
 easily excited than regulated, and that the multi- 
 tude will not shake off one authority merely to 
 subject themselves to another. The heroes of 
 the nation, on occasion of the Tennis-court Oath, 
 and the union of the orders, had already fallen 
 into neglect ; the parliaments had been passed by 
 them in the career of democracy, and they were 
 already outstripped by their more ambitious in- 
 feriors.* 
 
 The National Guard of Paris, imder the cora- 
 Tumult mand of the intrepid La Fayette, who 
 in Paris. still fondly climg to the illusion that 
 October 11. order could be preserved under demo- 
 cratic rule, for some time succeeded in re-es- 
 tablishing tranquillity in the capital. A baker, 
 named Francois, was murdered in the streets on 
 the 19th October, by a mob, who Avere enraged 
 at finding that the return of the king had not im- 
 mediately had the efiect of lowering the price of 
 provisions. With the savage temper of the times, 
 they put his head on a pike, and paraded ii through 
 the streets, compelling every baker whom they 
 met to kiss the remains. The wile of Francois, 
 who was ruiming in a state of distraction towards 
 the Hotel de Ville, met the crowd; at the sight 
 of the bloody head, she fainted on the pavement: 
 they had the barbarity to lower it into her arms, and 
 press the lifeless lips against her face. Such mi- 
 paralleled atrocity excited the indigiration of all 
 the better class of citizens ; martial law was pro- 
 claimed, and La Fayette, putting himself at the 
 head of the National Guard, attacked the mob, and 
 seized the rufiian who carried the head, who was 
 executed next day. The indignant populace mur- 
 mured at the severity: " What !" they exclaimed, 
 "is this our liberty'? We can no longer hang 
 whom we please !"t 
 
 The assembly, acting upon the impulse of the 
 moment, passed a decree against seditious as- 
 semblages, known by the name of the decree of 
 Martial Laio. It was enacted, that on occasion 
 of any serious public disturbance, the munici- 
 pality should hoist the red flag, and inmiediately 
 every group of citizens should disperse, on pain 
 of military execution.: Mirabeau, Buzot, and 
 Robespierre vehemently opposed the measure; 
 they felt the importance of such popular move- 
 ments to aid their sanguinary designs. 
 
 But the people would not relinquish without a 
 struggle the agreeable office of public execution- 
 October 23 ^^^' Two robbers were seized by 
 them, under pretence that the tribunals 
 were too sIoav in executing justice, and hung 
 upon the spot; a third was on the point of being 
 strangled, when La Fayette amved with his 
 grenadiers, and inflicted a summary chastise- 
 ment on those self-constituted authorities. Short- 
 ly after, he suppressed with equal vigour and 
 courage a dangerous revolt of the Armed Guard 
 of Paris, which was already beginning to form a 
 nucleus to the disaflected. Yet, even at the time 
 that he was daily exposing his life in his efforts 
 to restore the force of the laws, he was proclaim- 
 ing from the tribunal of the National Assembly 
 the dangerous doctrine, that, " when the people 
 
 * Lac, vii., 255. Mig., i., 97. Th., i., 191. 
 
 + Tool., i , 168. Mi?., 1,98. Th.,i.,192. Lac.,Tii.,262. 
 
 t Lac., Tii., 263 Th., i., 192. Buzot, 174. 
 
 are oppressed, insurrection becomes the most sa- 
 cred of duties."* How often do words incau- 
 tiously spoken produce consequences which life 
 bravely exposed is unable to prevent! 
 
 The Baron de Besenval, in whose favour M. 
 Neckar had so generously interfered „ . , , 
 on his return to Paris, was shortly execution of 
 after tried before the High Court of the Marquis 
 Chatelet, and acquitted. In prepa- de Favras. 
 ring for his defence, his coimsel had J^gg ^' 
 urged him to make use of a docu- 
 ment signed by the hand of the king, which au- 
 thorized him to repel force by force. " God for- 
 bid," said he, " that I should purchase life by 
 endangering so excellent a monarch !"t and tore 
 the writing in pieces. The Marquis de Favras 
 was shortly after brought before the same tribu- 
 nal, and the indignation of the people at the for- 
 mer acquittal was such, that, from the begirming 
 of the trial, his fate was certain. The crimes 
 laid to his charge were of the most absurd and 
 incredible description ; that of having entered 
 into a conspiracy to overturn the Constitution ; 
 and it M'as unsupported by any adequate evi- 
 dence ; but he was condemned by a tribunal 
 which Avas intimidated by a ferocious multitude, 
 who never ceased exclaiming, e\ en in the hall of 
 ju.stice, "A la lanteme ! a la lanteme !" He was 
 conducted at three in the morning, cloth- ^ . ,9 
 ed in a white shirt, to the Place de Greve, ^^qq ' 
 Avhere, Avith a torch in his hand, he read 
 Avith a firm voice, his sentence of death, protest- 
 ed his imiocence, and died Avith heroic firmness ; 
 the first A"ictim of judicial iniquity which the 
 RcA^olution had produced.! 
 
 He admitted having received 100 louis from a 
 nobleman of high rank, but refused to divulge 
 his name, and uniformly declared that he was 
 no farther implicated in any conspiracy. The 
 people assembled in A'ast crowds, and with sav- 
 age joy, to witness his punishment, though it 
 was conducted by torchlight ; the unusual spec- 
 tacle of a marquis being hanged was a sensible 
 proof of the equality in condition which the 
 Revolution had occasioned ; and, after it was 
 over, they mingled in CA'ery street brutal jests, 
 with innumerable parodies, on the mode of his 
 execution. § 
 
 The first legislative mea.sures of the assem- 
 bly were directed against the rising jealousies of 
 the provinces. These little states, proud of their 
 ancient privileges, had beheld with regret the ex- 
 tinction of their rights and importance in the in- 
 creasing sovereignty of the National Assembly, 
 and Avere in some places taking measures to 
 counteract its influence. To extinguish their 
 designs, the kingdom was distribu- 
 ted into new divisions, called depart- Division of 
 
 ... ' , ^, . France into 
 
 ments, which were nearly equal in departments, 
 extent and population. Eighty-four Jan. 9, 1790.' 
 of these comprehended the whole 
 kingdom of France; each department was di- 
 vided into districts, and each district into can- 
 tons, which last usually embraced five or six 
 parishes. A criminal tribunal Avas Municipal 
 established for each department; a estaWish- 
 civil court for each district; a court mcnt. 
 of reference for each canton. Each ^pnl, li90. 
 department had a council of administration, con- 
 sisting of thirty-six members, and an executive 
 council composed of five. The district had its 
 council and directory organized in the same 
 
 * Lac., vii., 267, 269. 
 
 i Lac, VII., 275. Th., i.. 210. 
 
 t Lac, vii., 271. 
 I) Th., i., 210, 211. 
 
1790.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 93 
 
 manner. The purpose of the canton was elec- 
 toral, not executive ; the citizens united there to 
 elect their deputies and magistrates ; the quali- 
 fication for voting was a contribution of the 
 amount of three days' labour. The deputies 
 elected by the cantons were intrusted with the 
 nomination of the representatives in the Nation- 
 al Assembly, the administrators of the depart- 
 ment, those of the district, and the judges in the 
 courts of law.* 
 
 To secure still farther the control of the peo- 
 ple, the judges were appointed only for three 
 years ; after which, their appointment required 
 to be renewed by the electors ; a pernicious state 
 of dependance, even more dangerous in a sover- 
 eign multitude than an arbitrary prince, inas- 
 much as the latter is permanent, and may find 
 his interest or that of his family injured by deeds 
 of injustice, whereas the former is perpetually 
 fluctuating, and neither inflitenced by a feeling 
 of responsibility, nor any durable interest in the 
 consequences of its iniquity .t 
 
 This decree arranged the rights and limits of 
 . . the rural districts ; another settled the 
 reguiatfons po^vers and privileges of the inhabi- 
 tants of towTis. Tiie administt-ation ' 
 of cities was intrusted to a general council and 
 a municipality, whose number was proportion- 
 ed to the population of the towns. The munici- 
 pal officers, or magistrates, were named direct- 
 ly by the people, and were alone authorized to 
 require the assistance of the armed force.j 
 
 The execution of these decrees was the most 
 Vast effects important step in the history of the 
 of these Revolution. They were a practical 
 changes. application of the principle recogni- 
 sed in the " Rights of Man," that all .sovereignty 
 flows from the people. By this gigantic step 
 the whole civil force of the kingdom was pla- 
 ced at the disposal of the lower orders. By the 
 nomination of the municipality they had the 
 government of the towns ; by the command of 
 the armed force, the conti'ol of the military ; by 
 the elections in the departments, the appoint- 
 ment of the deputies to the assembly, the judges 
 to the courts of law, the bishops to the Church, 
 the pfficers to the national guard ; by the elec- 
 tions in the cantons, the nomination of magis- 
 trates and local representatives. Everj'thing 
 thus, either directly, or by the intervention of a 
 double election, flowed from the people ; and the 
 qualification for voting was so low as practical- 
 ly to admit everj- able-bodied man : forty-eight 
 thousand communes or municipalities were thus 
 erected in France, and exercised, concurrently 
 and incessantly, the rights of sovereignty ; hard- 
 ly any appointment was left at the disposal of 
 the crown. After so complete a democratical 
 constitution, it is not surprising that, during all 
 the subsequent changes of the Revolution,! the 
 popular party should have acquired so irresisti- 
 ble a power, and that, in almost eveiy part of 
 France, the persons in authority should be found 
 supporting the multitude, upon whom they de- 
 pended for their existence. 
 
 This great change, however, was not brought 
 about without exciting the most violent local 
 discontents. It shocked too many feelings, and 
 subverted too many established interests, not to 
 produce a general ferment. Divisions as ancient 
 as the fall of the Roman Empire ; parliaments 
 
 * Mig., i., 98, 99. Tout., i., 172. Th., i., 106. 
 + Madame de Stael. RcW. Franp., i., 375. 
 t Mig-., i., 99, 100. Th., i., 196. 
 I) Mig., i., 100. Til., i., 97, 196. Lac, vii., 339. 
 
 coeval with the first da-nn of freedom ; prejudi- 
 ces nm-sed for centuries ; bamers of nature in- 
 capable of removal ; political aversions still in 
 their vigour, were all disregarded in tlie great 
 act of democratic despotism. But the protests 
 of the provinces, the resistance of the local par- 
 liaments, the clamour of the states, could nei- 
 ther deter nor arrest the National Assembly. A 
 change greater than the Romans attempted in 
 the zenith of their power, which the vigour of 
 Peter or the ambition of Alexander never dared 
 to contemplate was successfully achieved by a 
 popular assembly a few months after their first 
 establishment. A memorable proof of the force 
 of public opinion, and the irresistible power of 
 that new spring which general information and 
 the influence of the press had now, for the first 
 time, brought to bear on public affairs.* 
 
 In parcelling out France into these arithmet- 
 ical divisions, the Constituent Assembly treated 
 it precisely as a conquered country. Its patriots 
 realized for its free inhabitants what tlie Roman 
 historian laments as the last drop of bitterness in 
 the cup of the vanquished.t Acting as conquer- 
 ors, the)' imitated the policy of the harshest of 
 that cruel race. " The policy of such barbarous 
 victors," says Mr. Burke, " who contemn a sub- 
 dued people, and insult their inhabitants, ever 
 has been to destroy all vestiges of the ancient 
 countiy in religion, policy, laws, and manners, 
 to confound all territorial limits, produce a gen- 
 eral poverty, crush their nobles, princes, and 
 pontiffs, to lay low eveiything which lifted its 
 head above the level, or which could serve to 
 combine or rally, in their distresses, the disband- 
 ed people under the standard of old opinion. 
 They have made France free in the manner in 
 which their ancient friends to the rights of man- 
 kind freed Greece, Macedon, Gaul, and other 
 nations. If their present project of a Republic 
 should fail, all securities to a moderate freedom 
 fail along with it : they have levelled and crush- 
 ed together all the orders which they found un- 
 der the monarchy : all the indirect restraints 
 which mitigate despotism are removed, inso- 
 much that if monarchy should ever again obtain 
 an entire ascendency in France, under (his or any 
 other dynasty, it will probably be, if not volunta- 
 rily tempered at setting out by the wise and vir- 
 tuous counsels of the prince, the most complete- 
 ly arbitrarj- power that ever appeared on earth."i§ 
 
 At the same time, the elective franchise was 
 fixed at twenty-five years of age, and the contri- 
 bution of a marc of monej^, or the value of three 
 days' labour. No condition was annexed to the 
 situation of representative, the choice of the peo- 
 ple being held to supersede ever}- other qualifi- 
 cation. The election of members of the legisla- 
 ture took place by two degrees : the electors, in 
 the first instance, in their primary assemblies, 
 choosing the delegates who were to appoint the 
 legislators, and they, in their turn, selecting the 
 deputies for the assembly. II 
 
 These two measures, "the division of the king- 
 
 * Mig., 1., 100. Lac. vii., 336, 337. 
 
 t Non ut olim universa; legiones deducebantur cum tri- 
 bunis et centurionibus, et sui cujusque oidinis militibus, ut 
 consensu et caritate Rempublicam aflicerent ; sed ignoti 
 inter se diversis manipulis, sine rectore, sine affeotibus 
 mutuis, quasi ex alio genere morlalium repentein unumcol- 
 lecti numerns magis quam colonia. — Tac, Ann., .\iv., c. 27. 
 
 t Burke's Consid., Works, v., 328, 333. 
 
 ^ How surprising a foresight of what the conrse of time 
 has developed and is developing ! When Mr. Burke wrote 
 this in 1790, he was far ahead in political intelligence of 
 ninetv-nine hundredths of politicians half a century after. 
 
 II th., i., 197. 
 
94 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 dom into departments, and the prodigious degra- 
 dation of the elective tranchi.se, rapidly proved 
 fatal to freedom in France. The latter brought 
 up such a body of representatives in the ne.xt as- 
 sembly as overturneLl the throne, and induced 
 the Reign of I'error and the despotism of Napo- 
 leon ; tne former, by destroying tlie influence of 
 the provinces, and concentrating the whole au- 
 thority of the state in Paris, has lelt no power 
 existing capable of withstanding the w'cight, 
 whetiier in popular, monarchical, or military 
 hands, of the capital. It was not thus in old 
 France; for sixteen years Paris was occupied 
 by the English, and an English monarch crown- 
 ed at Rheinis; but the provinces resisted and 
 saved the monarchy. The League long held the 
 capital; but Henry IV., at the head of the for- 
 ces of the provinces, reduced it to submission. 
 But, since ttie separation of departments, the ex- 
 tinction of provincial courts and assemblies, and 
 the concentration of all the authoritj' of the state 
 in the metropolis, everything has come to depend 
 on its determinations; the ruling power at the 
 Tuileries has never failed to be obeyed from the 
 Channel to the Pyrenees ; and the subjection of 
 France to the mobs of Paris has been greater 
 than that of the Empire to the Pi-gstorian bands.* 
 The embarrassment of the finances next oceu- 
 Confiscation pied the attention of the assembly, 
 of the property AH the mcasuies taken for the re- 
 of the Church. Hqj; Qf [hg public necessities since 
 the convocation of the States-General had proved 
 utterly unavailing. The nation, in truth, was 
 subsisting entirely on borrowed money ; the reve- 
 nue had almost everywhere failed, and the public 
 debt had increased in the last three years by the 
 enormous amount of 1.200,000,000 francs, or 
 nearly i;50,000,000 sterling.t Matters had at 
 length reached a crisis ; the capitalists, so long 
 the ardent supporters of the Revolution, had 
 become sensible of its tendency, and would not 
 advance a shilling to the public service. The 
 contribution of a Iburth part of the revenue of 
 every individual, gi'anted to the eloquence of 
 Mirabeau, had produced but a momentary re- 
 lief; the confusion of public affairs rendered all 
 ordinary sources of revenue unavailing, and 
 some decisive measure had become indispensa- 
 ble, to fill up the immense deficit which the Rev- 
 olution had produced. In this emergency, the 
 property of the Church was the first fund which 
 presented itself, and it was sacrificed without 
 Nov 1789 ™^'^'^y to th^ public necessities. Tal- 
 '' ' leyrand, bishop of Autun, proposed 
 that the ecclesiastical property should be devoted 
 to the support of the ministers of religion, and 
 the payment of the public debt. In support of 
 this spoliation, he argued that "the clergy were 
 not proprietors, but depositaries of their estates ; 
 that no individual could maintain any right of 
 property, or inheritance in them ; that they were 
 bestowed originally by the munificence of kings 
 or nobles, and might now be resumed by the na- 
 tion, which had succeeded to their rights." To 
 this it was replied by the Abbe Maury and 
 Si^yes, "that it was an unlbunded assertion that 
 the property of the Church was at the disposal of 
 the state ; it flowed from the munificence or 
 piety of individuals in former ages, and was des- 
 
 "* Vir.imtP St Chuniaiis, siir l;i R'jvolution lie 1830,79,82. 
 t Tulul dehl in Aiinl, 1787. 3,002,000,000 frs. or X 120,000,000 
 ill April, 1790,4,241,000.000 or 170,000,000 
 
 Increase, 
 
 — See Calo:4NE, 74. 
 
 1,239,000,000 or £50,000,000 
 
 lined to a peculiar purjiose, totally different from 
 secular concerns; ttiat, if the purposes originally 
 intended could not be carried into eflect, it should 
 revert to the heirs of the donors, but certainly 
 could not accrue to the legislature ; that this 
 great measure of spoliation was the first step in 
 revolutionary confiscation, and would soon be 
 followed up by the seizure of property of every 
 description ; and that, in truth, it was a sacrifice 
 of the provinces and their estates to the capital- 
 ists of the metropolis who held the public debt, 
 and the vociferous mob who ruled the counsels 
 of the assembly." But it was all in vain. The 
 property of the Church was estimated at several 
 thousand millions of francs ; this appeared a 
 fund sufficient to maintain the clergy, endow the 
 hospitals for the poor, extinguish the public debt, 
 and defray the expenses of the civil establish- 
 ment. To a government overwhelmed with debt, 
 the temptation was irresistible ; and in spite of 
 the eloquence of the Abbe Maury and the efforts 
 of the clerg}', it was decreed, by a great majority, 
 that the ecclesiastical property should be put at 
 the disposal of the nation. The funds thus ac- 
 quired were enormous ; the Church lands were 
 nearly one half of the whole landed property of 
 the kingdom.* 
 
 The clergy were declared a burden upon the 
 state, and thenceforward received their incomes 
 from the public treasur}-. But the assembly 
 made a wretched provision for the support of re- 
 ligion. The income of the Archbishop of Paris 
 was fixed at i^2000 a year, (50,000 francs) ; that 
 of the superior bishops at 25,000 francs, or £1000 
 a year ; that of the inferior at £750 ; that of the 
 smallest at £500 a year. The cures of the larger 
 parishes received 2000 francs, or £88 a year; 
 1500 francs, or £60, in the middle-sized; and 
 1200 francs, or £48, in the smallest. The in- 
 comes of the greater part of the clergy, especially 
 the great beneficiaries, were by this change re- 
 duced to one fifth of their former amount. t 
 
 The arguments which prev^ailed with the as- 
 sembly were the same as those urged on similar 
 occasions by all who endeavour to appropriate 
 the property of public bodies. It is, no doubt, 
 plausible to say that religion, if really -true, 
 should be able to maintain itself; that the public 
 will support those who best discharge its duties; 
 and that no preference should be given to the 
 professors of any peculiar species of faith. But 
 experience has demonstrated that these argu- 
 ments are fallacious, and that religion speedily 
 falls into discredit in a country where its teach- 
 ers are not only maintained, but amply main- 
 tained, at the public expense. The marked and 
 almost unaccountable irreligion of a large pro- 
 portion of the French ever since the Revolution, 
 is a sufficient proof that the support of property, 
 and a certain portion of worldly splendour, is re- 
 quisite to maintain even the cause of truth. 
 
 The reason is apparent; worldly enjoyments 
 are all agreeable in the outset, and only painful 
 in the end. Religious truth is unpalatable at 
 first, and its salutary effects are only experienced 
 after the lapse of time ; hence the first may be 
 safely intrusted to the inclinations or taste of in- 
 dividuals, the last require the support or direc- 
 tion of the state. If individuals are left to choose 
 for themselves, they will select the best architects 
 or workmen, but it does by no means follow that 
 they will pitch upon the best religious guides. 
 
 * Ml?., i., 104. Toul., 1., 170. Th., i., 193, 194. Cha- 
 teaubriand. Etuil. Hist., iii., 284. 
 t Lac., viii., 24, Th., i,, 195. 
 
1790.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 95 
 
 The ardent will follow, not the most reasonable, 
 but the most captivating ; the selfish or indiifer- 
 ent, the most accommodating ; the wicked, none 
 at all. Those who most require reformation will 
 be the last to seek it. An established Church 
 and ecclesiastical property are required to re- 
 lieve the teachers of religion from the necessity 
 of bending to the views, or sharing in the fanat- 
 icism of the age. Those who live by the sup- 
 port of the public will never be backward in 
 conforming to its inclinations. When children 
 may be allowed to select the medicines they are 
 to take in sickness, or the young the education 
 ■which is to fit them for the world, the clergy may 
 be left to the support of the public, but not till 
 then. 
 
 This violent measure led to another, attend- 
 Leads to the ^d by consequences still more disas- 
 issuing of as- trous. The necessities of the state re- 
 signats. quired the sale of ecclesiastical prop- 
 
 erty to the amount of 400,000,000 of livres, or 
 i;i6,000,000 sterling; to facilitate it, the muni- 
 cipality of Paris, and of the principal cities of 
 the kingdom, became the purchasers in the first 
 instance, trusting to reimbursement by the sale 
 of the property in smaller portions to individ- 
 uals.* But an insuperable difficulty arose in 
 finding money sufficient to discharge the price 
 of so extensive a purchase before the secondary 
 sales were effected; to accomplish this, the ex- 
 pedient was adopted of issuing promissory notes 
 of the municipality to the public creditors, which 
 might pass current till the period of their pay- 
 ment arrived. This was immediately done ; but 
 when they became due, still no means of dis- 
 charging them existed ; and recourse was had to 
 government bills, which might possess a legal 
 circulation, and pass for money from one end 
 of the kingdom to the other. Thus arose the 
 system of Assign.\ts, the source of more public 
 strength and private suffering thcin any other 
 measure in the Revolution. 
 
 By a decree of the assembly, government were 
 Sale of part authorized to issue assignats to the 
 of the Church extent of 170,000,000 francs, or about 
 property. £7,000,000 Sterling, to be secured on 
 y-'qn^' '^' ^^^ domains of the crown and the 
 ' ■ ecclesiastical property, of the value 
 
 of 400,000,000 francs. Thus was the public 
 hand for the first time laid on private pro;perty, 
 and the dangerous benefit experienced of dis- 
 charging obligations without providing funds at 
 the moment for their liquidation ; an expedient 
 fostering to industrj', and creative of strength in 
 the first instance, but ruinous to both in the end, 
 if not accompanied by pntdent management, and 
 based on the provision for ultimate payment.tt 
 
 By this means the alienation of the ecclesias- 
 Leaiis to the 'ic^l property was rendered irrevo- 
 s\ibdivision of cable, and the foundation of a paper 
 land. circulation laid in the kingdom. 
 
 The necessities of the state made the continu- 
 ance and extension of the system in future years 
 unavoidable; and this led to a third consequence, 
 more important in the end than either of the 
 former, viz., the establishment of a vast body of 
 small landholders, whose properties had sprung 
 
 * Mig., !., 205. Th., i., 233, 234. t Th., i,, 234, 235. 
 
 t It is a remarkable fact, that this irrevocable step was 
 taken by the assembly in direct opposition to the opinions 
 of the country. Out of thirty-seven addresses from the 
 principal commercial cities of France, only seven were in 
 favour of assio:nats. The clamour of demagogues, the pas- 
 sion for spoliation and tinanoial necessity, had already over- 
 turned the whole influence of property, whether landed or 
 commercial. — See Calo.nne, 82. 
 
 out of the Revolution, and whose interests were 
 identified with its continuance. The public 
 creditor was not compelled in the first instance 
 to accept land instead of money, but lie leceived 
 assignats, which passed current in tlie market 
 and ultimately came into the hands of some pru- 
 dent individual, who made them the investment 
 of a little capital, and, instead of circulating 
 them as money, presented them for discharge, 
 and received a small fragment of the ecclesias- 
 tical estates. The extreme difficulty of finding 
 a secure investment for capital in those dis- 
 tracted times, and the innumerable bankruptcies 
 of mercantile men which took place during the 
 progress of the Revolution, produced a uni- 
 versal opinion among the labouring classes that 
 the purchase of land was the only safe way of 
 disposing of money; and this feeling, coupled 
 with the excessive depreciation which \he as- 
 signats afterward reached, and the great acces- 
 sion to the national domains which the confis- 
 cated estates of the nobles produced, occasioned 
 that universal division of landed property which 
 forms the most striking feature in the modem 
 condition of France.* 
 
 The clergy, finding the administration of a 
 large portion of their estates transferred to the 
 municipalities, and a paper money created which 
 was to be paid from their sale, were seized with the 
 most violent apprehensions. As a last resource, 
 they offered to lend the state the 400,000,000 
 francs upon being reinvested with their prop- 
 erty; but this offer, as tending to throw doubt 
 upon the confiscation of their estates, was 
 immediately rejected. The utmost efibrts were 
 immediately made by the Church to excite 
 public opinion against the Revolution. The 
 pulpits resounded with declamations clergy ve- 
 against the assembly; and the sale of hcmenily 
 the ecclesia-stical estates was univer- resist. 
 sally represented as sacrilegious in the highest 
 degree. But their efforts were in vain. Some 
 disturbances broke out in the south of France, 
 and blood was shed in many of the provinces in 
 defence of the priesthood, but no general or na- 
 tional movement took place, and after some re- 
 sistance they were everj'where dispossessed of 
 their estates. The irreligious spirit of the age 
 secured this triumph to the enemies of the Chris- 
 tian faith; but no violent or unjustifiable pro- 
 ceeding can take place without ultimately recoil- 
 ing on the nation which commits it. From this 
 flagrant act of injustice may be dated the strong 
 and unconquerable aversion of the clergy in 
 France to the Revolution, and the marked dis- 
 regard of religious observances which has since 
 distinguished so large a portion of its inhabi- 
 tants.t From this may be dated that dissolution 
 of private manners which extended with such 
 rapidity during its progress, which has spread 
 the vices of the old noblesse through all the in- 
 ferior classes of the state, and threatens, in its 
 ultimate effects, to counterbalance all the advan- 
 tages of the Revolution, by poisoning the fount- 
 ains of domestic virtue, from which public pros- 
 perity must spring. From this, lastly, may be 
 dated the commencement of the fatal system of 
 assignats, which precipitated and rendered irrev- 
 ocable the march of the Revolution, and ulti- 
 mately involved in ruin all the classes who 
 participated in this first deed of unpardonable 
 iniquity. 
 
 * Baron de StSel, 72. Mig., i., 106. Toul., i., 179. 
 t Mig., i., 106, 107. Lac, vii., 290, 291. Th., i., 199, 
 211,235. 
 
96 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 The only way in which it is possible to avoid 
 these di'eadful calamities, which at once dry up 
 all the sources of national prosperity, is to as- 
 sume it as a fundamental principle, that the 
 estates set apart for the Church are private prop- 
 erty, not to be encroached or impaired with- 
 out the same violence which sets aside all pri- 
 vate rights. Without that safeguard the Church 
 will inevitably fall a prey to financial embarrass- 
 ments. Having no bayonets in their hands, like 
 the army; having lost the spiritual thunder 
 which maintained their authority in the ages of 
 superstition ; speaking to the future, not the pres- 
 ent wants of mankind, they will ever be the 
 first to be sacrificed to the financial embarrass- 
 ments incident to an advanced .state of civiliza- 
 tion, if not protected by the shield of an interest 
 common to them with ordinary proprietors. It 
 is to the firm hold which this principle has of the 
 Englisli nation, that Mr. Burke ascribes the 
 long duration and extensive u.sefulness of its na- 
 tional establishment. " The people of England," 
 says he, " never have suffered, and never will suf- 
 fer, the fixed estates of the Church to be converted 
 into a pension, to depend on the treasurj', and to be 
 delayed, withheld, or perhaps extinguished by 
 fiscal difiiculties, which may sometimes be pre- 
 tended for political purposes, and are, in tact, 
 often brought about by the extravagance, negli- 
 gence, and rapacity of politicians. They will 
 Dot turn their independent clergy into ecclesias- 
 tical pensioners. They tremble for their liberty 
 from the influence of a clergy dependant on the 
 crowTi ; they tremble for the public tranquillity 
 from the disorders of a factious clergy, if they 
 were made to depend on any other than the 
 crown. For the consolation of the feeble and 
 the instruction of the ignorant, they have identi- 
 fied the estate of the Church with the mass of 
 private property, of which the state is not the pro- 
 prietor either for use or dominion, but only the 
 guardian and regulator ; they have ordained that 
 the provision of this establishment should be as 
 stable as the earth on which it stands, and not 
 fluctuate with the oscillations of funds and ac- 
 tions."* 
 
 The interior organization of the Church next 
 New mod- underwent the revision of the assem- 
 «llmgofthe bly. The bishoprics were reduced to 
 Church. the same number as the departments ; 
 the clergy and bishops declared capable of being 
 chosen only by the electors who were intrusted 
 with the nomination of deputies ; the chapters sup- 
 pressed, and the regular orders replaced by paro- 
 chial clerg)'. In these refonns, if we except the 
 election of the clergy and bishops by the people, 
 for which they were manifestly disqualified, and 
 which is utterly inconsistent with a national es- 
 tablishment, nothing flagrantly unjust was at- 
 tempted; the Church, purified of its con'uptions, 
 and freed from its splendid but invidious appen- 
 dages, might still have maintained its respecta- 
 bility, had no spoliation of its possessions previ- 
 ously taken place. But the progress of the 
 Revolution, and the efforts of more audacious 
 reformers, soon completed its destruction. t 
 
 The revolutionary party having now declared 
 Efforts of open war against the Church, its par- 
 the clergy tisans exerted themselves to the utmost 
 to dissolve ^Q abridge the duration or operations 
 t^ e assein- ^j. ^j^^ assembly. The moment was 
 May, 1790. favourable, as the period when the 
 
 » Burke's Consid., Works, v., 191, 192. 
 t Mig., i., 107, 108. Th., i., 240. 
 
 powers of the assembly should expire had ar- 
 rived; the deputies were only appointed for 
 a year, and that time had now elap.sed. The 
 clergy and the aristocratical party took the 
 advantage of that circumstance to insist that 
 the assembly should be dissolved and reap- 
 pointed by the electors ; to support that proposal, 
 they urged the sovereignty of the people, so re- 
 cently proclaimed as the basis of government by 
 the popular leaders. " Without doubt," says 
 Chaplin, " sovereignty resides in the people ; 
 but that principle has no application in the pres- 
 ent instance. The dissolution of the assembly, 
 before the work of the constitution is finished, 
 would lead to its destruction ; it is now urged by 
 the enemies of freedom, with no other view but 
 to occasion the revival of despotism, of feudal 
 privileges, court prodigality, and all the count- 
 less evils which follow in its train." " We 
 deceive ourselves," replied the Abbe Maury, 
 " when we speak of perpetuating our own power. 
 When did we become a National Assembly? 
 Has the oath of 20lh Jime absolved us from that 
 which we took to our constituents 1 The con- 
 stitution is finished; you have nothing now to 
 do but to declare that the king possesses the ex- 
 ecutive power; we are sent here for no other 
 purpose but to secure the influence of the people 
 upon the legislature, and prevent the imposition 
 ot taxes without their consent. Our duties being 
 now discharged, I strenuously resist every decree 
 which shall trench upon the rights of the elect- 
 ors. The founders of liberty should be the last 
 to invade the rights of others ; we undermine 
 our own authority when we trench upon the 
 privileges of those by whom it was conferred." 
 Loud applauses followed these energetic words ; 
 but Mirabeau immediately ascended the tribune. 
 '■ We are asked," said he, " when our powers 
 began : I reply, from the moment when, finding 
 our place of Jissembly surrounded by bayonets, 
 we swore rather to perish than abandon our du- 
 ties towards the nation. Our powers have, since 
 that great event, undergone a total change ; what- 
 ever we have done has been sanctioned by the 
 unanimous consent of the nation. You all re- 
 member the saying of the ancient patriot, who 
 had neglected legal forms to save his country. 
 Summoned by a factious opposition to answer 
 for his infraction of the laws, he replied, ' I 
 swear that I have saved my country.' Gentle- 
 men, I swear that you have saved France." The 
 assembly, electriiled by this appeal, rose by a 
 spontaneous movement, and declared its sitting 
 permanent till the formation of the constitution 
 was completed.* 
 
 In the fervour of innovation, titles of honour 
 could not long be maintained. La- Abolition of 
 meth propo.sed a simple decree, " That titles of 
 the titles of duke, count, marquis, vis- honour, 
 count, baron, and chevalier should be suppress- 
 ed." The noblesse and the clerg}' made vain 
 efforts to prevent the sacrifice ; it was caiTied by 
 an ovenvhelming majority.T Thus j^j^^go 1790 
 in one day fell the ancient and ven- ' 
 
 erable fabric of feudal nobility ; an institution 
 .sprung from conquest and cradled in pride, but 
 productive of gi'eat and important consequences 
 on the social body, and the cause of the great dis- 
 tinction between European and Asiatic civili- 
 zation. The conquests of the East have seldom 
 
 * Mig., i., 109, 111. Th., i., 218. Ferricre's Memoire, 
 i., 237. 
 t Lac, vii., 356, 357. Mig., i., 114. 
 
ITDO.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 97 
 
 Droduced any lasting institutions, because they l been continued through all the subsequent chan- 
 lave always depended on a single race of war- ges of government.* 
 
 riors, and left behind neither honours nor hered- 
 itary possessions to pei-petuate the fabric of .so- 
 cietv. Hence everj-thing lias been ephemeral in 
 their dynasties ; national glory', public prosperi- 
 ty, have in every age been as shortlived as their 
 original founders. In Europe, on the other hand, 
 the establishment of hereditary dignities, and of 
 the right of primogeniture, has perpetuated the 
 influence of the first leaders of the people ; and by 
 creating a class whose interests were permanent, 
 has given a degree of durability to human insti- 
 tutions imknown in any other age or quarter of 
 the globe. Whatever may be said of the vanity 
 of titles, and the unworthy hands into which 
 they frequently descend, it cannot he denied that 
 they have stamped its peculiar character upon 
 European civilization ; tliat they created the 
 body of nobility who upheld the fabric of .society 
 through the stonny periods of anarchy and bar- 
 barism, and laid the first foundation of freedom 
 by forming a class governed by la.sting interests, 
 and capable, in ever}' age, of w"ithstanding the 
 efforts of despotic power. Whether the necessi- 
 ty of such a class is now superseded by the ex- 
 tension of knoA\iedge and the more equal diffu- 
 sion of property, and whether a system of tem- 
 pered liberty can subsist without an intermediate 
 body interposed between the power of the crown 
 and the ambition of the people, are questions 
 which time alone can resolve, but on which the 
 leaders of the French Revolution liad unques- 
 tionably no materials to form an opinion. 
 
 The assembly acted with liberality towards 
 June 10, 1790. '^e crown. Louis demanded twentv'- 
 Settlement on five millions of francs (.£1 ,000,0(K) 
 the crown. sterling) annually for his hovtsehold 
 expenses and civil list, w-hich was instantly 
 granted; and the jointure of the queen was fixed 
 at four millions of francs, or i;i80,000 a year. ^^ 
 conceding monarch is always, for a brief svace. 
 a favourite with a democratic legislature" 
 
 The judicial establishment underwei't a Jotal 
 Judicial es- <^ha-nge about the same r^riod The 
 tablish- jiarliaments of the provinces -nere sup- 
 ment. May pressed. The work of destniction had 
 4, 1790. j^^^ become so cpinmon, that the an- 
 nihilation of these ancier^ courts, coeval with 
 the monarchy, hardly excited any attention. 
 New tribunals were creafed throughout the 
 whole country on the most democratical basis ; 
 the judges were appointed, not by the crown, hut 
 the electors ; that i.s, by the whole laboiuing 
 classes. Even the power of pardon was taken 
 from the sovereign. Trial by jury was univer- 
 sally introduced, and the jurymen taken indis- 
 crimirdtely from all classes of citizens. Re- 
 forms of the most salutary description were ef- 
 fected in the criminal courts ; trials made public, 
 the accused allowed counsel, and indulged with 
 every facility for their defence. The inhuman 
 punishments which disgraced the ancient mon- 
 archy were abolished, and the punishment of 
 death limited to a smaller class of delinquencies. 
 The cognizance of charges of high treason was 
 intrusted to a supreme court at Orleans; but it 
 must be added, to the gloiy of the National As- 
 sembly, that during their continuance not one 
 trial took place. A new tribunal, entitled the 
 Court of Cassation, was established at Paris to 
 revise the .sentences of inferior tribunals ; the 
 utility of that institution was such, that it has 
 
 Vol,. I.— N 
 
 Lac, viii., 48. Th., i., 238. 
 
 But all these changes, great and important as 
 they were, yielded in importance to 
 the military organization which at '^'^''^'7 or- 
 this period "took place throughout all s='^'^=*"°"- 
 France. The progress of 'the Revolution, the 
 overthrow of the invading armies, the subjuga- 
 tion of the European powers, were mainly owing 
 to the military' establishments which .sprung up 
 during the first fervour of patriotic exertion. 
 The army of France, under the old govermnent, 
 partook of the aristocratic spirit of the age ; the 
 higher grades of militarj' rank were exclusively 
 reserved for the court nobility, and even ordinary 
 commissions bestowed only on those whose birth 
 or connexions united them to the favoured class 
 of landed proprietors. The consequences of 
 such an exchisive system, in an age of ad- 
 vancing civilization, might easily have been an- 
 ticipated ; the privates and non-commissioned 
 oflicers had no common interest with their supe- 
 riors, and, like the parochial clerg}'. felt their own 
 inclinations coincide with those of the Tiers 
 Elat. Hence the rapid and decisive defection 
 of the whole army the moment that they were 
 brought into collision with the Revolution, and 
 exposed to the contagion of popular enthusi- 
 asm.f Injudicious' change.-.- in the regulation of 
 the household troops had "recently introduced ex- 
 tensive dissatisfaction '^ven among that favoured 
 bodv, and occasione^-i the revolt of the Guards, 
 which was the Jiwmediate cause of the fall of 
 the roval autJiO'it}'. 
 
 The difScwities experienced by the military in 
 all contests with the populace at this time were 
 so great, that they practically amounted to an 
 enf-^i"e su.spension of the authority of govem- 
 rient. The duties of a municipal officer, or of 
 the commander of a fortress, were more appall- 
 ing than those arising from the most formidable 
 force of regular enemies. In most places, the 
 troops, seized with the same mutinous spirit as 
 the nation, refused to act against the insurgents, 
 or openly ranged themselves on their side, A 
 handful of mutineers, a despicable rabble, were 
 thus sufficient to make the governor of a citadel 
 tremble; every act of vigour, even in self-defence, 
 came to be considered as a capital crime; and 
 the clamours of the populace were regarded with 
 more alarm than the thunder of the enemy's ar- 
 tillery, Mirabeau became fully sensible,' when 
 it was too late, of the minous consequences of 
 such a distracted state of things, and proposed to 
 remedy it by the proclamation of martial law; 
 but the assembly, terrified of offending the na- 
 tion, did not venture to adopt so vigorous a 
 step,i§ 
 
 * Lac, vii., 344, 346. Th., i., 233. 
 
 t Toul., i., 124, 126, 127. t Uumont, 202. 
 
 ^i M. de la Tour Dupin, ministerof war, on the 4th June, 
 1790, gave the following- account, in a report to the assembly, 
 of the disorders of the army : " His majesty has this day sent 
 me to apprize you of the multiplied disordersof which every 
 day he receives the most distressing- intelligence. The army 
 is threatened -with ultra anarchy. Entire regiments have 
 dared to violate at once the resjcct due to the laws, to the or- 
 der established by your decrees, and to the oat lis which they 
 have taken with the most awful solemnity. While you arc 
 indefatigable in moulding the Empire into one coherent and 
 consistent body, the administration of the army exhibits 
 nothing but disturbance and confusion. The bonds of dis- 
 cipline are relaxed or broken, the most unheard-of preten- 
 sions avowed without disguise, the ordinances without force, 
 the chiefs without authority ; the military chest andthecol- 
 oui-s carried of; the authority of the king himself proudly 
 defied ; the officers despised, degraded, threatened, drivea 
 away, or prisoners in the midst of their coi-ps, dragging on a 
 
98 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 Shortly after the taking of the Bastile, a new 
 o 1 oath was teadered to the soldiers, 
 
 Vieneral cs- , . , , , , . i 
 
 tabhshment which bound ihciu never to employ 
 of Noitioiial their arms against their lellow-citi- 
 GuarUs. ^ens but on the requisition of the civil 
 authorities. This circumstance, immaterial in 
 itself, became important in its consequences, by 
 accustoming the military to other duties and the 
 protection of other interests than those of the 
 sovereign. At the same period, the National 
 Guards were organized, in imitation of Paris, 
 over ihe whole kingdom ; the middling classes, 
 everywhere attached to the Revolution, because 
 it promised to relieve the disabilities under which 
 they laboured, formed the strength of its battal- 
 ions; and in a few months three hundred thou- 
 sand men, enrolled and disciplined in tiie prov- 
 inces, were ready to support the popular cause. 
 The influence of this immense body of armed 
 men, great in itself, was increased by the demo- 
 cratic constitution under which it was construct- 
 ed. Formed in a moment of revolution, and du- 
 ring the abeyance of the royal authority, it re- 
 ceived no regular organization from any superior 
 power; the privates elected their own oihcers, 
 and learned the rudiments of discipline from in- 
 structers of their own selection ; and these, chosen 
 during a period of extraordinary excitation, were 
 of course the most Yehernent supporters of the 
 power of the people. Hence the marked and 
 steady adherence of this influential body, through 
 all the changes of the Revolution, to the popular 
 side ; and hence the facility vitli which regular 
 armies were subsequently formed on the same 
 democratic model, on the first call of national 
 danger.* 
 
 The National Guard of Paris, 30,000 strong. 
 under the command of La Fayette, was cap&ble 
 of being increased, by beat of drum, to double u^, 
 number, all in the highest state of discipline and 
 equipment. But, as usually happens where 
 officers owe their appointment to the privates, 
 his authority disappeared when his commands 
 ran counter to the wishes of his inferiors.t On 
 one occasion he resigned the command, and en- 
 tered an evening party in the dress of the privates. 
 "What, general!" exclaimed the guests, '-we 
 thought you were commander of tiie National 
 Guard." " Oh !" said he ; "I was tired of obey- 
 ing, and therefore entered the ranks of the pri- 
 vates."? 
 
 A more formidable force consisted in a multi- 
 
 precarious life in the bosom of disgust and humiliation. To 
 fill up the measure of all these horrors, the commandants 
 of places have had their throats cut, under the eyes and al- 
 most in the arms of their own soldiers 1 
 
 " These evnls are great, but thoy are neither the only nor 
 the worst produced by such military insurrections. Sooner 
 or later they menace the nation itseif Tlie nature of things 
 requiresthat the army should never act but as an instrument. 
 The moment that, erecting itself into a deliberative body, it 
 shall act according to its own resolutions, the government, 
 be it what it may, will immediately degenerate into a mili- 
 tary despotism ; a species of monster which has always end- 
 ed by devouring those who have produced it." — See Report 
 quoted by BuKKE, Cons. Works, v., 377. 
 
 " So far, however, was the king from listening to this 
 sound advice, that, under the mlluence of his superstitious 
 dread of occasioning the shedding of blood, ho sent round 
 circulai-s to all the regiments of the army, with orders that 
 the soldiers should join several clubs and confederations in 
 the different municipalities, and mix with them in their 
 feasts and civil entertainments. ' Sa majeste a pense qu'il 
 convenoitque chaque regiment pret part acesf^tesciviques, 
 pour multiplier Ics rapports, et reserrer les liens entre les 
 citovens et les troupes.'" — Ibid., v., 382. 
 
 *'Toul., i., 88, 126, 127. t Tou!., i., 137. 
 
 i The author received this anecdote from his late illus- 
 trious and revered friend. Professor Dugald Stewart, who 
 ■was present on the occasion. 
 
 tude of artisans and manufacturers 
 in all the great towns, armed with •^"'^ °^ ■"■■"- 
 pikes, and trained to a certain degree "^ ^^ '^'nen. 
 of military discipline. These tumultuous bands, 
 raised in moments of alarm, were ready for in- 
 surrection, and anxious to share in the plun- 
 der of the opulent classes. Having nothing to 
 lose themselves, they supported every measure 
 of spoliation and cruelty. The worst of the 
 popular leaders found in them a never-failing 
 support when the more measured lervom- of the 
 National Guard was begiiming to decline. Their 
 numbers in Paris alone amounted to above 
 50,000 ; and their power, always great, received 
 an undue preponderance from the disastrous gift 
 of two pieces of carmon to each of the forty-eight, 
 sections, shortly after the capture of the Bastile. 
 These guns were worked by the ablest and most 
 determined of the populace ; tlie higher ranks all 
 shunned that service, from the fatigue with which 
 it was attended; it fell into the hands of the most 
 ardent of the lower, and, from their terrible en- 
 ergy, these cannoniers soon acquired a dreadful 
 celebrity in all the bloodiest tragedies of the 
 Revolution.* 
 
 The agitation of the public mind was shortly 
 increased by the convulsions which Dreadful de- 
 the paper circulation of the countrj' jireciation of 
 underwent, and the multitudes whom assignats. 
 its progressive depreciation reduced to a state of 
 beggary. Government liaving once experienced 
 the relief from immediate pressure, 1-1700 
 
 which paper credit never fails in the •'''"e i'. i'^". 
 first instance to aflbrd, speedily returned to the 
 expedient ; and fresh issues of assignats, secured 
 upon the Church property, appeared upon every 
 successive crisis of finance. t Eight hundred 
 millions of fresh assignats were issued, notwith- 
 standing the warning voice of Talleyrand,T at 
 the instigation of Mirabeau, who clearly per- 
 ceived what a body of revolutionary interests 
 auA proprietors it would soon create. 
 
 Those documents at first bore interest at the 
 rate of four per cent., but this was soon discon- 
 tinued ; notwithstanding wliich, they for some 
 time maintained their value on a par with the 
 metallic currency. By degrees, however, the 
 increasing is.>ue of paper produced its usual ef- 
 fects on public credv.; the value of money fell, 
 while that ol every other article rose in a high 
 proportion ; and at length the excessive inunda- 
 tion of fictitious currene/ spread a panic through 
 the public mind, and its value rapidly sunk to a 
 mere nominal sum. Eight or niae per cent, was 
 all that could be got, after somo years for these 
 dangerous documents ; and in many cases they 
 would hardly pass for one fifteeii'.h of their let'-al 
 value. So prodigious a change ia the .-tate of 
 
 * Lac, vii., 357. t Tout., i., 204. Th., i., 95G, 2i7. 
 
 t M. Talleyrand clearly predicted the fatal conscquenci.; 
 which would result from this continued issue of assignats to 
 meet the wants of the treasurj'. "You ask," said he, "why 
 should that paper money be always below the value of the 
 metallic currency '. It is because distrust will always e.xist 
 as to the proportion between its amount and the national 
 domains on which it is secured ; because forking their sales 
 will be uncertain ; because it is difficult to conceive when 
 two thousand millions (£80,000,000), the value of these do- 
 mains, will be extinguished ; because silver issuing at par 
 with paper, both will become objects of merchandise ; and 
 the more plentiful any merchandise becomes, the more it 
 must decline in price. From this must necessarily result an 
 inextricable confusion; the purchase of land for a nominal 
 value ; the discharge of debts for illusory payment ; and, in 
 a word, a universal change of property, by a system of 
 spoliation so secret, that no one can perceive from whence 
 the stroke that ruins him has come."* 
 
 « Th., i., 3S3, 3S3. rieoes Jmt. 
 
1790.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 99 
 
 the circiilating medium occasioned an extraor- 
 dinary fluctuation in the fortunes of individuals, 
 and augmented to an incredible degree the num- 
 ber of those who were ruined by the public con- 
 vulsions. But it extended in a proportional 
 measure its ramifications through society, by 
 swelling the number of the holders of national 
 property, and enlisting a large and influential 
 class, by the strong bond of interest, on the side 
 of the Revolution.* 
 
 The 14th July, the anniversary of the taking 
 of the Bastile, approached, and the pa- 
 J4th Jillv^ ^^°^^ resolved to signalize it by a lete 
 worthy of the birth of freedom in the 
 greatest of the European states. A confederation 
 of the whole kingdom in the Champ de Mars 
 was resolved on ; and there the king, the depu- 
 ties of the eighty-four departments, the assembly, 
 and the National Guard, were to take the oath 
 to the constitution. Every exertion was made 
 to render the ceremony imposing. For several 
 weeks before, almost the whole labouring popu- 
 lation of Paris was employed in constructing 
 benches, in the form of a theatre, for the innumer- 
 able spectators who were expected, while the 
 municipality, the National Guard, and the depu- 
 ties of the departments vied with each other in 
 iheir endeavours to signalize their appearance 
 on the stage by the utmost possible magnificence. 
 Tlie presence of the monarch, of the National 
 Assembly, of a hundred thousand armed men, 
 and above four hundred thousand spectators, it 
 was justly supposed, would impress the imagi- 
 nation of a people less passionately devoted than 
 the French to theatrical eflect.t 
 
 Early in the morning of the I4th, all Paris 
 ■was in motion. Four hundred thousand persons 
 repaired with joyful steps to the Champ de Mars, 
 and seated themselves, amid songs of congratu- 
 lation, upon the seats which surrounded the 
 plain. At seven, o'clock the procession advan- 
 ced. The electors, the representatives of the 
 municipalit)', the presidents of the districts, the 
 National Guards, the deputies of the army and of 
 the departments, moved on in order to the sound 
 of military music, from the site of the Bastile, 
 with banners floating, bearing patriotic inscrip- 
 tions, and arrayed in varied and gorgeous habili- 
 ments. The splendid throng crossed the Seine 
 by a bridge of boats opposite the Ecole Militaire, 
 and entered the theatre under a triumphal arch. 
 They were there met by the king and the Na- 
 tional Assembly at the foot of a great altar, 
 erected after the manner of the ancients, in the 
 middle of the plain. Talle}Tand, bishop of Au- 
 tun, and four hundred priests, dressed in tricolour 
 robes, celebrated high mass in presence of the 
 assembled multitude ; after which, La Fayette, 
 as commander-in-chief of the National Guards 
 of France, mounted on a superb white charger, 
 advanced and took the oath in the following 
 terms: "We swear to be faithful to the nation, 
 to the law, and to the king; to maintain with all 
 our might the constitution decreed by the Na- 
 tional Assembly, and accepted by the king ; and 
 to remain united to all the French by the indis- 
 soluble bonds of fraternity." Immediately after, 
 the president of the National Assembly and the 
 king took the oath, and the queen, lifting the 
 dauphin in her arms, pledged herself for his ad- 
 herence to the same sentiments. Discharges of 
 artillery, the rolling of drums, the shouts of the 
 
 * Th., 1., 204. Mig., i., 106. TouL, i., 205. Lac, 
 iii., 56. 
 
 tTh., i., 245. Mig., i., 114, 115. Lac, vii., 309. 
 
 multitude, and the clashing of arms, rent the 
 skies at the auspicious event which seemed to 
 leunite the monarch and his subjects by the 
 bonds of affection. In the evening, illumina- 
 tions and festivities prevailed in Paris; and the 
 king, in a concealed caleche, enjoyed the gener- 
 al expression of happiness. A ball took place 
 upon the site of the Bastile; over the gate was 
 this inscription: " Ici on danse." " They dan- 
 ced in eflcct," .says a contemporary writer, " with 
 joy and security, on the same spot where for- 
 merly fell so many tears; where courage, ge- 
 nius, and innocence have so often wept ; where 
 so often were stifled the cries of despair."* 
 
 These festivities interrupted for a .short period 
 only the animosity of the factions at ^^^^5^,1 
 each other. The Duke of Orleans, ^(n,^ uujtg 
 who had recently returned from his of Orleans 
 exile in London, was accused, along '"^'^ Mira- 
 with Mirabeau, of having conspired to ^^'*"' 
 produce the revolt of 5th October. Never was 
 accusation more ill-timed and unfortunate. At 
 that very moment, Mirabeau, disgusted at the 
 revolutionary proceedings of the assembly, was 
 secretly lending the aid of his great talents to 
 support the cause of the throne, a leaning to 
 which he had been inclined ever since the be- 
 ginning of the year. He had long foreseen the ap- 
 proaching ruin of the state, and had resolved to do 
 his utmost to stem the torrent of those passions 
 he had had so large a share in creating. The 
 Abbe Maury, who took the lead in the impeach- 
 ment, was obliged to confess that the evidence 
 did not warrant any criminal proceedings against 
 that illustrious man; and the fact of his having 
 been accused, restored all his popularity, which 
 was beginning to decline. Never did he sway 
 the assembly with more absolute power than 
 when he ascended the tribune to make his de- 
 fence. The assembly quashed the accusation 
 both against Mirabeau and the Duke of Or- 
 leans ; but the latter never afterward regained 
 his reputation, and from that period his influence 
 in the Revjlution was at an end.t 
 
 Shortly after, M. Neckar retired from the 
 ministr}'. Ill health was assigned as Retiremeut 
 the motive for a step which was really of Neckar, 
 taken from a sense of declining influ- ^'=P^- ^■ 
 ence and lost popularity. His own words had 
 proved prophetic ; the day of his triumphant 
 entrj' into Paris had been the first of his de- 
 cline. He had lived to see the folly of his fa- 
 vourite opinion, that reason, if forcibly stated 
 and blended with sentiment, would in the end 
 sway the most vehement popular bodies. His 
 resignation, couched in eloquent and touching 
 language, was received in the assembly without 
 regret ; and he set out for Switzerland, unat- 
 tended and a fugitive, over the route which he 
 had so lately traversed in triumph. He was ar- 
 rested at Arcis sur Aube, and narrowly escaped 
 the fate from which he had so generously saved 
 his enemy, M. de Be.senval. Permission to 
 continue his journey was coldly conceded by 
 the legislature, which owed its existence and 
 popular constitution to his exertions;; a memo- 
 rable instance of the instability of popular ap- 
 plause, but such as must always be looked for 
 in revolutions. Its early promoters are uni- 
 formly neglected, when other and more auda- 
 cious leaders hav^ succeeded ; all classes aim 
 
 * Fer. Mem., i., 18, 23. Mi^., i., 117. Lac, vii., 367. 
 Th., i., 246, 249. 
 
 t Lac,viii.,63,84. Mig,i.,118. Th., i., 187, 250. 252. 
 i Mig., i., 118. Lac, Tii., 85. Th., i., 257, 258. 
 
100 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. HI. 
 
 at supremacy ; its course is always onward ; 
 none who have risen by its impulse can long 
 maintain their ascendency, because, by remain- 
 ing at the head of affairs, they check the eleva- 
 tion of inferior ambition. 
 
 The retreat of Neckar produced a total change 
 Change of ^ the ministry. Duport du Tertre, 
 ministry. Duportail, Fleurieu, Lambert, and De 
 Sept. 5. Lessart, succeeded to the several offices 
 of government. Two were destined to perish on 
 the scaflold, one by the sword of revolutionary- 
 assassins. The period was fast approaching 
 when eminence in public life was a sure pass- 
 port to a violent death.* 
 
 The state of the army was soon such as to re- 
 quire the immediate attention of the assembly. 
 The recent militarj' code was eminently favour- 
 able to the inferior officers ; the ancient distinc- 
 tions and privileges of rank were abolished, and 
 seniority made the sole title to promotion. In 
 proportion as this change was beneficial to the 
 private soldiers, it was obnoxious to their supe- 
 jiors, who found their advancement obstructed 
 by a multitude of competitors from the inferior 
 ranks, from whom they formerly experienced no 
 Revolt It ^'^^'- ^^ hinderance. The result was, a 
 Metz aiid general jealousy between the privates 
 Nancy. and their officers : Where the former 
 August 31. preponderated. Jacobin clubs, in imita- 
 tion of those of the metropolis, were formed, and 
 discipline, regulations, and accoutrements sub- 
 jected to the discussion of these self-constituted 
 legislators ; where the latter, dissatisfaction with 
 the established government generally prevailed. 
 Nowhere had the anarchy risen to a higher pitch 
 than in the garrison of Nancy. It was composed 
 of three regiments, one of which was Swiss, the 
 others French ; the proportion of officers in these 
 regiments was much greater than usual in other 
 corps, and they were drawn from the cla.ss most 
 hostile to the Revolution. After a long series of 
 disputes between them and the privates, the latter 
 broke out into open revolt, and put their officers 
 under arrest in their own barracks. The as- 
 sembly, perceiving the extreme danger of mili- 
 tary insubordination in the unsettled state of the 
 public mind, took the most energetic measures 
 to put dowTi the revolt. Mirabeau exerted his 
 powerful voice on the side of order: andBouiLLE, 
 commander of Metz, received orders to march 
 with the military force under his command against 
 the insurgents. Between the regular troops and 
 the National Guard he assembled three thousand 
 men, with which, after a sharp encounter, he van- 
 quished the mutineers. This prompt and decisive 
 success calmed the fears of the National Assem- 
 bly, which this revolt had thrown into the most 
 violent alarm ; but it excited new fears and jealou- 
 sies at Paris, from the additional influence which 
 it gave to an already dreaded charaeler.t 
 
 Connected with the aristocratic class by birth, 
 Character and attached to the throne by principle 
 of M. de anl affection, M. dc Bouille was yet no 
 Bouill.;. enemy to those moderate reforms which 
 all intelligent men felt to be indispensable in the 
 stale and array. He was an enemy to the Revo- 
 lution, not such 33 it was, but such as it had be- 
 co ne. Fir.Ti; intrepid, and sagacious, he was 
 better calculated than any otlicr inlividual to 
 sle n the torrent of disaster ; but the times were 
 such that not even the energy (5f Napoleon could 
 have withstoo 1 its fury. Within the sphere of 
 
 * Lac, viii.,9J. Th., i., 259. 
 
 * Toul., i., 237, 239, 242. Mig., i., 1 19, 120. Th., i. 254, 
 «55. 
 
 his owTi command, he maintained inviolate the 
 royal authority : by separating his soldiers from 
 the citizens, he jireserved them from the conta- 
 gion of revolutionary principles ; while, at the 
 same time, by the natural ascendant of a great 
 chai'acter, he retained their alfections. For long 
 he declined the new military oath, to be faithful 
 "to the nation, to the law. and to the king;" at 
 length, moved by the entreaties of Louis, he 
 agreed to take it, in the hopes of preventing the 
 latter part of the obligation from being entirely 
 forgotten in the first.* 
 
 The assembly shortly after decreed, that the 
 same oath should be tendered to the ec- 
 clesiastics. This rendered irreparable ^1^,^^^^*" 
 the breach between the Church and the oa,h. i,s 
 Revolution. A great proportion of disastrous 
 the churchmen of ever}- rank in France ?''^^'^'*,, 
 refused this oath, which boimd them j-gp' '' 
 " to be faithful to the nation, to the law, 
 and to the king, and to maintain with all their 
 power the constitution decreed by the National 
 Assembly, and accepted by the people." It wa.s 
 unreasonable to suppose that the ecclesiastics of 
 France could be sincerely attached to a legisla- 
 ture which had deprived them of all their proper- 
 ty, and rmjust to hold them as contumacious be- 
 cause they refused to swear fidelity to its consti- 
 tution. Nevertheless, the assembly, irritated by 
 their opposition, decreed that every churchmaii 
 who refused the oath should be instantly deprived 
 of his benefice. Eight days only were allowed 
 to the resident, and two months to the absent 
 clerg}', to testify their adherence.t A large pait 
 of the bishops and cur^s in the assembly refused 
 the oath, and their example was followed by the 
 great majority of the clergy throughout France, 
 — a memorable example of conscientious dis- 
 charge of duty, which might have opened the 
 eyes of the assembly to the impolicy as well as 
 injustice of canying on any farther persecution 
 against this important cla.'^is. Such, however, 
 wiis the spirit of the times, that their refusal was 
 universally ascribed to the most factious motiv-es, 
 and immediately followed by tlie confiscation of 
 their livings. The dispossessed clergy, suddenly 
 reduced by this cruel measure to destitution, filled 
 the kingdom with their complaints, and excited, 
 in those districts where their influence still re- 
 mained, the strongest commiseration at their fate. 
 The people beheld with indignation nev\' church- 
 men filling the vacant pulpits, and administering, 
 with unconsecrated hands, the holiest offices of 
 religion. The dispossessed clergy still lingered 
 in their dioceses or livings, subsisting on the 
 charity of their former flocks, and denouncing as 
 impious the ordinances and proceedings of the 
 intrusive ministers. Inflamed with resentment 
 at their proceedings, the assembly at 
 length fixed a day for the adherence of *"•*>'' '• 
 all the clerg\- in France, and upon its expir)- the 
 decree of forfeiture was universally and rigorous- 
 ly enforced. Mirabeau in vain raised his voice 
 against this tyrannical step ; the dictates of jus- 
 tice, the feelings of humanity, were alike drown- 
 ed in the clamours of the populace. j 
 
 From these measures may be traced the vio- 
 lent animosity of the clerg}' at the Revolution, 
 and to this cause ascribed the irreligious spirit 
 which has in so remarkable a manner charac- 
 terized its progress. The clergy being the first 
 class who suffered under the violence of popular 
 
 *Toiil., i., 119. 
 
 t Toul., i., 2.5S. Mig., i., 121. Tb., i., 266. 
 
 tToul.,i., 259, 261. Mig., i., 122. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 101 
 
 spoliation, were the first to raise their voice 
 against its proceedings, and to rouse a portion 
 of the nation to resist its progress ; hence the 
 contending parties began to mingle religious 
 rancour with civil dissension. In the cities, in 
 the departments, the people weie divided between 
 the retractor}' and the revolutionary clergj- ; the 
 faithful deemed none of the exercises of religion 
 duly performed but by the dispossessed minis- 
 ters; the democrats looked upon these nonjuring 
 ecclesiastics as fanatics, alike inaccessible to 
 reason and dangerous to society. The clergj' 
 who refused the oath composed the most re- 
 spectable part of this body, as might have been 
 expected Irom men who relinquished rank and 
 fortune for the sake of conscience. Those who 
 accepted it were in part demagogues, whose 
 principles readily gave place to their ambition. 
 The former influenced a large portion of the 
 community, especially in the remote and mral 
 districts ; the latter were followed by the most 
 influential part of the inhabitants, the young, the 
 active, the ambitious. In this v,-a.y the Revolu- 
 tion split the kingdom into two parties, who have 
 never ceased to be stron;jly exasperated against 
 each other ; the one, who adlicred to the religious 
 observances of their fathers ; ihe other, Avho op- 
 posed them. The latter have proved victorious 
 in the strifie, and the consequence has been, that 
 irreligion has since prevailed in France to an 
 extent unparalleled in any Christian state.* 
 
 This iniquitous measure was speedily follow- 
 ed by another, equally alluring to appearance, 
 and attended in the end by consequences to ])ub- 
 lic freedom fully as disastrou.s — tlic abolition of 
 the right of primogeniture, and establishment of 
 ^ the right of equal succession to landed 
 
 ivll. ' property to the nearest of kin, whether 
 in the descending, ascending, or collat- 
 eral line, without any regard either to the dis- 
 tinction of the sexes, or of the full and the half 
 blood. This prodigious change, which laid the 
 axe to the root of the aristocracy, and, indeed, of 
 the whole cla.ss of considerable landed proprie- 
 tors in the kingdom, by provid)n<r tor the division 
 of their estates on their decease among all their 
 relations in an equal degree of consanguinity, 
 ■was at the moment so agreeable to the levelling 
 spirit of the times, that it met with ven' little op- 
 position, and proved so acceptabl*^ to the re vol u- 
 tionarj' party throughout the kingdom, that it 
 survived all the other changes of the govern- 
 ment, and remains the common law of inherit- 
 ance in France at this hour. Napoleon wa.s 
 compelled to adopt it, under a slight modifica- 
 In 1802 '^^"' ^^^'^ '^'^'^^ Avhich bears his name ; 
 jmd though fully aware of its dangerous 
 tendency in extinguishing the aristocratic class, 
 who were the only pennanent suppoiters of the 
 throne or the cause of order, he never felt him- 
 self strong enough to oppose its repeal. Other 
 changes introduced by the French Revolution 
 have produced consequences more immediately 
 disastrous, none so ultimately fatal to the cause 
 of freedom. It provided for the slow but certain 
 extinction of that grand and characteristic fea- 
 ture of European civilization, an hereditary and 
 independent body of landed proprietors ; remo- 
 ved the barrier which alone has been proved by 
 experience to be permanently adequate to resist 
 the ambition of the Commons or tlie tvranny of 
 the crown, and left the nation no elements" but 
 the burghers in the towns, and the poor and help- 
 
 * Toul., 262. Mig., i., 122. 
 
 less peasants in the country, to resist the en- 
 croachments of the central power in the capital 
 armed by the shortsighted ambition of the popu- 
 lar party, with ahnost all the powers in the 
 state.* 
 
 About the same period, the clubs of Paris be- 
 gan to a.s.sume a formidable charac- ciubsofp 
 ter, and, from the influence which is. Jacobms 
 they subsequently exercised in the and Monar- 
 Revolution, merit particular notice, '^^''lue. 
 They consisted merely of voluntary associations 
 of individuals, who met to discuss public afiairs ; 
 but, from the number and talent of theii mem- 
 bers, soon became of great importance. The 
 most powerful of these was the famous club of 
 the Jacobins, originally an assembly of deputies 
 from Britanny, who met lor the discussioir of 
 philosophical questions, but who, after the trans- 
 lation of the assembly to Paris, extended their 
 ramifications tlu"ough the provinces, and, by the 
 admi-ssion of every citizen indiscriminately, be- 
 came the great locus of revolutionary principles. 
 The moderate paity, to counterbalance their in- 
 fluence, established a new club, entitled the Club 
 of lT8t), at the head of which were Si4yes, Cha- 
 pelier. La Fayette, and La Rochelbucault. The 
 latter at first prevailed in the assembly, the for- 
 mer was the favourite of the people.t But, as 
 the tendency of all public convulsions is to run 
 into extremes, from the incessant efibrts of the 
 lower classes to dispossess their superiors, the 
 moderate club soon lell into obscurity', while the 
 Jacobins went on increasing in niunber and en- 
 erg}-, until at length they overturned the govern- 
 ment, and sent forth the sanguinary despots who 
 established the Reign of Terror. 
 
 The royalists in vain endeavoured to establish 
 clubs as a counterpoise to these assemblies. 
 Their influence was too inconsiderable, their 
 numbers too small to keep alive the flame ; the 
 leaders of their paity had gone into exile; those 
 who remained laboured under the depression of 
 a declining cause. A club, entitled Le Monar- 
 chique, had some success at its first opening; 
 but its numbers gi-adually fell off", and it at length 
 was closed by the municipal authority, to put 
 an enil to the .seditious assemblages wliich it oc- 
 casioned among the people.: 
 
 The increasing emigration of the noblesse 
 augmented the distnist and suspicions of the 
 ]ieople. The departure of the Princesses Ade- 
 laide and Victoria, aunts of the king, gave rise 
 to a nmiour that the whole royal family were 
 about to depart; and to such a height did the 
 public anxiety arise, that the mob forcibly pre- 
 vented a visit' to St. Cloud which the king was 
 desirous to make. La Fayette, who wished to 
 prove the personal liberty of the monarch, en- 
 deavoured in vain to prevail on his guards to al- 
 low him to depart. Disgusted at his want of 
 success with the troops, he resigned the com- 
 mand of the National Guard, and was only pre- 
 vailed on to resume it by the earnest entreaties 
 of the whole regiments of Paris. The assembly, 
 alarmed at the possibilit}' of the king's escaping, 
 passed a decree, declaring that the person of the 
 king was inviolable ; that the consti- ^p^ug 1791. 
 tutional regent should be the near- ' 
 
 est male heir of the crown ; and that the flight 
 of the monarch should be equivalent to his de- 
 thronement. § 
 
 The emigration, however, continued with un- 
 
 * Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 150. 
 i Mig., i., 123. 
 
 t Mig., i., 123. 
 
 » Mig., 1 , 124, 125. 
 
102 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 abated violence. The heads of the 
 Continued jjo^iggt families in France repaii'ed to 
 
 emigration. ^,. , , i,ii- • 
 
 Coblentz, where a large body ot emi- 
 grants was assembled ; no disguise was at- 
 tempted of their destination ; several young no- 
 blemen, on leaving the opera, ordered their 
 coachmen to di'ive to that city. The fever of 
 departure became so general, that the roads lead- 
 ing to the Rhine were crowded with elegant equi- 
 pages, conveying away the remains of ttie nobili- 
 ty. They did not, as in the time of the Crusades, 
 sell their estates, but abandoned them to the first 
 occupant, trusting soon to regain them by the 
 sword. Vain hope ! The assembly confiscated 
 their properties ; the republican armies van- 
 quished their battalions ; and the nobility of 
 France forever lost their inheritances. Vain, 
 frivolous, and self-sufficient, the aristocracy at 
 Coblentz had not laid aside their character when 
 they left their country ; their vices were at least 
 as conspicuous in exile as their misfortunes, and, 
 declining to avail themselves of the only aid 
 which could have retrieved their fortunes, they 
 refused all offers of assistance from the middling 
 ranks of society. The Prince of Conde, at the 
 head of a brave band, stationed himself on the 
 Upper Rhine, strangers to the intrigues that 
 were going on, but determined to regain their 
 rights by the sword.*+ 
 
 * Th., i., 270, 271. Lac, ^nii., 117. 
 
 t The best defence of the emigrants that ever has been 
 made, is that by Chateaubriand in his unpublished memoirs. 
 " A worthy foreigner by his lireside, in a tranquil state, sure 
 of rising m the morning as safe as he went to bed m the 
 evening, in secure possession of his fortune, with his door 
 ■well barred, surrounded by friends within and without, will 
 find it no dilhcult matter to prove, while he drinks a good 
 glass of wine, that the French emigrants were in the wrong, 
 and that an upright citizen should, in no extremity, desert 
 his country. It is not surprising that he arrives at such a 
 conclusion. He is at ease ; no one thinks of persecuting him ; 
 he is in no danger of being insulted, murdered, or burned in 
 his house, because his ancestor was noble ; his conclusions 
 are easily formed. It belongs only to misfortune to judge 
 of misfortune ; the hardened heart of prosperity cannot en- 
 ter into the dehcate feelings of adversity. If we consider 
 calmly what the emigrants have suffered in France, where 
 is the man now at his ease who can lay his hand on his 
 heart and say, ' I would not have acted as they did V The 
 persecution commenced everywhere at the same time in all 
 its parts, and it is a mistake to suppose that difference of 
 political opinion alone was its cause. Were you the warm- 
 est Democrat, the most burning patriot, it was enough that 
 you bore an histonc name to subject you to the risk of be- 
 ing prosecuted, burned, or hanged, as is proved by the ex- 
 ample of Lameth and many others, whose properties were 
 laid waste, notvnthstanding their ardour in defence of the 
 people m the Constituent Assemlily." — See Chateaubei- 
 AND's Memoirs — Fragments, p. 78. 
 
 Admitting the caustic eloquence of these remarks, the 
 British historian cannot allow their justice. The example 
 of the nobility of his own country, in the disastrous days 
 which succeeded the passing of the Reform Bill, has furnish- 
 ed him with a decisive refutation of them. The flames of 
 Bristol and Nottingham proved that danger had reached 
 their dwellings as well as those of the French noblesse ; 
 and if they had, in consequence, deserted their country and 
 leagued with the stranger, it is hnrdly doubtful that similar 
 excesses would have laid waste the whole fair realm of Eng- 
 land. They did not do so ; they remained at home, braving 
 every danger, enduring every insult, and who can over-esti- 
 mate the influence of such moral courage in mitigating the 
 evils which then so evidently threatened their country ? 
 The masfacres in France did not begin tiU after the lOth 
 August, 1792 ; and yet the whole nobility had emigrated, 
 and were assembled in menacing crowds at Coblentz before 
 the end of 1791. Previous to this, there had, indeed, been 
 a vast catalogue of rural disorders immediately consequent 
 on the abandonment of the feudal rights in August, 1789 ; 
 but these excesses had been of short duration, and the last 
 two years of the Constituent Assembly had been compara- 
 tively calm and tranquil. Their emigration was excusable 
 in the autumn of 1789 ; it was no longer so in the autumn 
 of 1791 ; and the frightful exasperation of parties which 
 followed may in a great measure be traced to that culpa- 
 
 This general defection, which was magnified 
 in the revolutionary journals, produced so great 
 an impression, that the two royal princesses 
 were arrested on their journey towards Switzer- 
 land, and the assembly felt the utmost difficulty 
 at allowing them to proceed. Mirabeau, who 
 was now secretly inclined to the royal party, 
 raised his powerful voice to facilitate their de- 
 parture. " An imperious law," exclaimed the 
 Jacobins, "forbids their departure." "What 
 law V said Mirabeau. " The safety of the peo- 
 ple!" replied Lameth. " The safety of the peo- 
 ple !" rejoined Mirabeau ; " as if two princesses, 
 advanced in years, tormented by the fears of 
 their conscience, could compromise it by their 
 absence or theii- opposition ! The safety of the 
 people ! I expected to have heard these words 
 invoked for serious dangers : when you act as 
 tyrants in the name of freedom, who will here- 
 after trust your assurance 1" " Europe will be 
 surprised to leai'n," said the Baron de Menou, 
 " that the assembly has been occupied during 
 two hours with the journey of two old ladies, 
 who prefer hearing the mass at Rome to Paris." 
 The ridicule of the thing at length prevailed over 
 the fears of the Democrats, and the two princess- 
 es were allowed to continue their journey with- 
 out farther interruption.* 
 
 These discussions were but the prelude to the 
 great question of the law against the emigrants, 
 which now occupied the attention. Discussions 
 not only of the assembly, but of concerning 
 all the clubs in France. The pro- emigrants, 
 ject of the law introduced by Chape- March, 1791. 
 lier, with the humane design of preventing its 
 adoption, was marked by undisguised severity. 
 It authorized a committee of three persons to 
 pronounce upon refractory emigrants the sen- 
 tence of outlawr)^ and confiscation. A general 
 horror pervaded the assembly at the cruel pro- 
 posal, and Mirabeau, taking a skilful advantage 
 of the first impression, succeeded in preventing 
 its adoption. Never was his eloquence more 
 powerful, or his influence more strongly display- 
 ed than on that occasion, the last on which he 
 ever addressed that body. " The sensation 
 which the projet of this law has excited," said he, 
 " proves that it is worthy of a place in the code 
 of Draco, and should never be received into the 
 decrees of the National Assembly of France. 
 It is high time you should be undeceived ; if 
 you or your successors should ever give way to 
 the violent counsels by which you are now be- 
 set, the law which you now spurn would be re- 
 garded as an act of clemenc}'. In the bloody 
 pages of your statute-book the word de.4.th 
 would ever}-where be found ; your mouths would 
 never cease to pronounce that terrible word; 
 your statutes, while they .spread dismay within 
 the kingdom, would chase to foreign s&ores all 
 who gave lustre to the name of France ; and 
 your execrable enactments would find subjects 
 for execution only among the poor, the aged, 
 and the unfortunate. For my own part, far from 
 subscribing to such atrocious measures, I should 
 conceive myself absolved from eveiy oath of 
 fidelity to those who could carry their infamy so 
 far as to name such a dictatorial commission. 
 Your murmurs are unavailing; to please you is 
 my happiness, to warn you my duty ; the popu- 
 larity which I desire is not a feeble twig, fanned 
 by the breath of momentarj^ favour ; it is an 
 
 ble desertion of their first patriotic duties, and unhappy 
 union with foreign armies for the invasion of their country. 
 * Lac., viii., 122. Th., i., 272. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 103 
 
 oak, whose roots are spread in the soil, that is to 
 say, fixed on the immutable basis of justice and 
 liberty. I understand the vexation of those 
 who, now so ardent, or, rather, so perfidious in 
 their love of freedom, would be puzzled to tell 
 when it arose in their bosoms." These last 
 words excited a violent murmur among the Jaco- 
 bins. " Silence those thirty voices !" said Mira- 
 beau, in a voice of thunder, and the hall was in- 
 stantly silent.* 
 
 With such prophetic truth did this great man 
 Mirabeau foresee the result of the violent counsels 
 joins the and angry passions which were now be- 
 throne. ginning to tinge the career of the Revo- 
 lution. He plainly perceived that his popularity 
 was on the wane, not because his eloquence was 
 less powerful, his arguments less cogent, his en- 
 ergy less commanding, than when he reigned lord 
 of the ascendant, but because he no longer head- 
 ed the popular movement, and strove to master 
 the passions he had excited among the people. 
 Already the cry had been heard in the streets, 
 "Grande trahison du Comte Mirabeau," and 
 the populace followed the career of less able but 
 more reckless leaders. Disgusted with the fick- 
 leness of the multitude, and foreseeing the san- 
 guinary excesses to which they were fast ap- 
 proaching, he had for long made secret advan- 
 ces to the constitutional party, and entered into 
 correspondence with the king for the pui'pose 
 of restraining the farther progress of the Revo- 
 lution. He received for a short time a pension 
 of 20,000 francs, or ilSOO a month, first from the 
 Count d'Artois, and afterward from the king ; 
 but it was not continued till the time of his 
 death, from finding that he was not so pliant as 
 the court party expected. His style of life sud- 
 denly changed; magnificent entertainments suc- 
 ceeded each other in endless profusion, and his 
 house resembled rather the hotel of a powerful 
 minister, than that of the leader of a fierce de- 
 mocracy. t Yet mere venality was not the mo- 
 live for tliis great change ; he allied himself to 
 the court partly because he saw it was the only 
 way to stop the progress of the Revolution ; he 
 took their pensions because he regarded himself 
 as their minister to govern the assembly ; and 
 he would have rejected with disdain any propo- 
 sition to undertake what was unworthy of his 
 character. His design was to support the throne 
 and consolidate the Constitution, by putting a 
 stop to the encroachments of the people. With 
 this view he proposed to establish, in reality and 
 not in name, the royal authority, and dissolve 
 the assembly ; reassemble a new one, restore 
 the nobility, and form a constitution as nearly 
 as possible on the English model ;: a Avise and 
 ■generous object, entertained at different times 
 by all the best friends of freedom in France, but 
 "which none were able to accomplish, from the 
 ■flight of the great and powerful body by whom 
 it should have been supported. 
 
 The plan of Mirabeau was to facilitate the 
 Mirabeau's escape of the king from Paris to 
 plan for Compeigne or Fontainebleau ; that he 
 saWng the should there throw himself imder the 
 throne. ^ guidance of the able and intrepid M. 
 de Bouille, assemble a royal army, call to his 
 support the remaining friends of order, and open- 
 ly employ force to stem the torrent. He pledged 
 himself for the immediate support of thirty de- 
 partments, and the ultimate a dhesion of thirt}^- 
 
 * Lac, viii., 122, 126. Mig., i., 125. Th., i., 277, 279. 
 t Dumniit, 229, 230. Lac, viii., 128. Mig., i., 126. 
 t Dumont, 2S5, 312, 313. Bouill6, i., 217. 
 
 six more. Between the contending parties he 
 flattered himself he should be able to act as me- 
 diator, and re.store the monarchy to the consid- 
 eration it had lost, by founding it on the basis of 
 constitutional freedom. " I would not wi.sh " 
 said he, in a, letter to the king, " to be always 
 employed in the vast work of de.struction;" and 
 in truth, his ambition was now to repair the 
 havoc which he himself had made in the social 
 system. He was strongly impressed with the 
 idea, which was, in all probability, well founded, 
 that if the king could be brought to put himself 
 at the head of the constitutional party, and resist 
 the farther progress of the democracy, the coim- 
 try might yet be saved. " You know not," said 
 he, " to what a degree France is still attached 
 to the king, and that its ideas are still es.sentially 
 monarchical. The moment the king recovers 
 his freedom, the as.sembly will be reduced to no- 
 thing: it is a colossus with the aid of his name; 
 without it, it would be a mountain of sand. 
 There will be some movements at the Palais 
 Royal, and that will be all. Should La Fayette 
 attempt to play the part of Washington at the 
 head of thelNationalGuard, he will speedily and 
 deservedly perish." He relied upon the influ- 
 ence of the clergy, who were now openly com- 
 mitted against the Revolution with the rural 
 population, and on the energy and intrepidity of 
 the queen, as suflicient to coimterbalance aU 
 the consequences of the vacillation of the king. 
 But, in the midst of the.se magnificent designs, 
 he was cut short by death. A constitution nat- 
 urally strong sunk under the accumulated press- 
 ure of ambition, excitation, and excessive in- 
 dulgence.* 
 
 His death, albeit that of a skeptic, had some- 
 thing in it sublime. He was no stran- j)^^^^ ^f 
 ger to his approaching dissolution ; but, Mirabeau. 
 far from being intimidated by the pros- April 2, 
 poet, he gloried in the name he was to '*'*^- 
 leave. Hearing the cannon discharge upon some 
 public event, he exclaimed, " I already hear the 
 funeral obsequies of Achilles : after my death, 
 the factions will tear to shreds the remnants of 
 the monarchy." His sufferings were severe at 
 the close of his illness : at one period, when the 
 power of speech was gone, he wrote on a slip of 
 paper the words of Hamlet, " To die is to sleep." 
 " When a sick man is given over, and he suf- 
 fers frightful pains, can a friendly physician re- 
 fuse to give him opium V A few hours before 
 his death, the commencement of mortification 
 relieved his sufferings. " Pccmove from the 
 bed," said he, " all that sad apparatus. Instead 
 of these useless precautions, surround me by 
 the perfumes and the flowers of spring; dress 
 my hair with care ; let me fall asleep amid the 
 sound of harmonious music." Being aware 
 that recovery was hopeless, he earnestly implo- 
 red his attendants to give him laudanum to put 
 a period to his existence. His feet were already 
 cold, but his countenance still retained its ani- 
 mation, his eye its wonted fire, as if 
 death spared to the last the abode of so -^f"^ ^°» 
 much genius. Feigning to comply, they 
 gave him a cup containing what they assured 
 ihim was opium. He calmly drank it off", fell 
 back on his pillow, and expired.t 
 
 Such was the end of Mirabeau, the first mas- 
 ter-spirit which arose amid the troubles of the 
 Revolution. He was upward of forty years of 
 
 *■ Lac, viii., 127, 128. Stael, i., 405, 406. Th., i., 280. 
 Dum., 207, 210, 211, 257. 
 
 t Th., i., 281, 282. De Stael, i., 408. Lac, viii., 133. 
 
104 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 age when he entered public life; but his reputa- 
 tion was already great at the opening of the 
 States-General, and he was looked to as the trib- 
 une who was to support the cause of the people 
 against the violence of the crown. Endowed 
 with splendid talents, but impelled by insatia- 
 ble ambition; gifted with a clear intellect, but 
 the prey of inordinate passions; sagacious in 
 the perception of truth, but indifieren't as to the 
 means by which distinction was to be acquired ; 
 without great information derived from stud}-, 
 but an unrivalled power of turning what he pos- 
 sessed to the best account, he affords a memora- 
 ble example of the ineliicacy of mere intellectual 
 power to supply the want of moral, or the gui- 
 dance of religious feeling. He was too impet- 
 uous to make himself master of any subject; 
 studied nothing profoundly, and owed almost all 
 the writings to which his name was attached, 
 and many of the speeches which he delivered, 
 to Dumont and Duroverai, who aided Mm in 
 his Herculean labours. His greatest talent con- 
 sisted in a strong and ardent imagination, a 
 nervous elocution, and an luirivalled power of 
 seizing at once the spirit of the assembly which 
 he was addressing, and applj-ing the whole force 
 of his mind to the point from which the resist- 
 ance proceeded. Great as his intluence was in 
 the assembly, it was less than it N^ould have 
 been but for the consequences of his irregular 
 life ; and the general belief entertained of liis 
 want of principle made the league with the 
 court, in the close of his career, be ascribed to 
 venal, when it was rather owiag to patriotic 
 motives. His inordinate passions cut him short 
 in the most splendid period of his career, in the 
 vigour of liis talents, and the zenith of his pow- 
 er, when he was about to undertake the glorious 
 task of healing the woimds of the Revolution. 
 Neckar said that he was "an aristocrat by in- 
 clination, a tribime by calculation ;' and such, 
 in truth, was his character : his ])riniai3' object 
 was to acquire distinction : he espoused at first 
 the popular side, because it ofit?red the fairest 
 chance of gaining celebrity : he was prepared at 
 last to leave it, when he found the gales of pop- 
 ular favour inclining to others more sanguinary 
 and less enlightened than himself* 
 
 On his deathbed he perceived, in the clearest 
 manner, the disastrous consequences which were 
 likely to flow from the ambitious career into 
 which he had had so large a share in precipi- 
 tating the Commons of France. " When I am 
 no more," he said, "my worth will become 
 known. The misfortunes which I have arrest- 
 ed will then pour on all sides on France; the 
 criminal faction which now trembles before me 
 will be unbridled. I have before my eyes un- 
 bounded presentiments of disaster. We now see 
 how much we erred in not preventing the com- 
 mons from assuming the name of the National 
 Assembly ; since they gained that victoiy, they 
 have never ceased to show themselves unworthy 
 of it. They have chosen to govern the king in- 
 stead of governing by him ; but soon neither he 
 nor they will rule the countiy, but a vile faction, 
 which will overspread it with horrors."t 
 
 His death was felt by all as a public calamity; 
 by the people, because he had been the early 
 leader and intrepid champion of freedom ; by 
 the Royalists, because they trusted to his support 
 against the violence of the Democratical party. 
 
 * De Staei, i., 186, 259. Th., i., 123, 124, 125. Dum., 
 276, 277. t Dumout, 267, 268. 
 
 All Paris assembled at his funeral obsequies, 
 which were celebrated with extraordinary pomp 
 by torchlight, amid the tears of innumerable 
 spectators; twenty thousand National Guards, 
 and delegates from all the sections of Paris, ac- 
 companied the corpse to the Pantheon, where it 
 was placed by the remains of Des Cartes. The 
 bones of Voltaire, and subsequently those of 
 Rousseau, were soon after removed to the same 
 cemeteiy ; over the noble portico of which were 
 inscribed the words, " Aux Grandes Ames la Pa- 
 trie Reconnoissante.''* 
 
 The death of Franklin was, about the same 
 time, commemorated with strong public feeling 
 in Paris. The loss of the patriot philosopher 
 excited no such mingled feelings; unmixed re- 
 gret, unalloyed admiration, attended his memory. 
 Over his bust was placed the beauiilul epitaph, 
 in allusion to his scientific discoveries and pa- 
 triotic exertions : 
 
 " Eripuit citlo fulmen sceptiumque tjTannis." 
 
 The literary and philosophical characters in 
 Paris, who had done so much to urge on the 
 tempest of democrac}', were now fully sensible 
 of the ungovernable nature of the power which 
 they had excited. Volney, long one of Mira- 
 beau's intimate friends, openly expressed, in hia 
 caustic way, his sense of the thraldom which the 
 assembly had imposed on itself " Can you pre- 
 tend," said he, "to command silence to tlie gal- 
 leries 1 Our masters sit there ; it is but reason- 
 able they should applaud or censure their ser- 
 vants' speeches.'' " I am astonished to hear you," 
 said one of the by-standers to the Abbe Sabatier, 
 who had first originated the ciy for the States- 
 General, " rail so violently at an assembly M'hich 
 you had so powerful a hand in calling into exist- 
 ence." " Yes," replied the abbe, " but they have 
 changed my States-General at nurse." " The 
 States-General," said Marmontel, "always re- 
 mind me of an expression of Madame de Se- 
 vigne : ' I would admire Provence if I never had 
 seen the Proven^aux.' "t 
 
 The death of Mirabeau did not extinguish the 
 plans which he had fonned for the escape of the 
 king. His state of thraldom Avas too obvious to- 
 be disguised: deprived of the liberty of evea 
 visiting his own palaces ; restrained by the mob, 
 whom even La Fayette could not control ; with- 
 out power, without money, without considera- 
 tion, it was mere mockery to talk of the throne 
 as forming a constituent part of the government; 
 The experiment of a constitutional monarchy 
 had been tried and failed ; the president of a re- 
 public would have had more real authority ; his 
 palace was nothing but a splendid prison. 
 
 jNI. de Bouille was the person on whom the 
 royal family depended in their distress, and Bre* 
 teuil the counsellor who directed their steps. 
 For some time past he had prepared everj'thing 
 for their reception, and under covert of a mili- 
 taiy movement on the frontier, had drawn to- 
 gether the most faithful of his troops, to a camp 
 at Montmedy. Detachments were placed along 
 the road to jjrotect their journey, on the pretext 
 of securing the safe passage of the militar}' chest, 
 which was expected from Paris.! 
 
 On their side the royal family were not idle. 
 Their design, known to few, was be- pi^ns of the 
 trayed by none ; their manner in- court. June 
 dicated more than usual confidence ; ^^■ 
 
 * Th., i., 282. Lac., viii., 135. De Sla€l, i., 408. 
 t Dumont, 250, 252. Scgur, iii., 384. 
 t Mig., i., 132. Th.,i.,2a7. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 105 
 
 and at length, on the 20th June, the king and 
 dauphin, the Princess Elizabeth, aJid Madame 
 de Tourzel, succeeded in reaching, in disguise, 
 a carriage on the Boulevards. Tlie queen, who 
 set out with a single attendant to avoid suspi- 
 cion, had nearly discovered their design. Both 
 being ignorant of the streets of Paris, they lost 
 their^way, and accidentally met the carriage of 
 La Fayette, which they only avoided by con- 
 cealing themselves under the colonnade of the 
 Louvre. At length they reached the trembling 
 fugitives, and instantly set out on the road to 
 Montmedy and Chalons. They passed the bar- 
 rier without being discovered, and proceeded 
 several days from Paris in perfect safety. The 
 success of their enterprise, the distance from 
 Paris, the near approach of the loyal corps un- 
 der Bouille, occasioned a fatal relaxation in 
 their precautions. The king delayed too long 
 on the road, and had the imprudence to show 
 himself publicly at Chalons, where he was rec- 
 ognised by some persons, who, however, had the 
 humanity to keep the secret. At Saint Mene- 
 hould, the next stage, the postmaster, Drouet, 
 ■was struck by the resemblance of his counte- 
 nance to the engraving on the assignat;'the age, 
 the number of the royal family, confirmed him 
 in his suspicions, and, after the carriage had de- 
 parted, he sounded the alarm, and despatched 
 one of his friends on a swift horse to cross the 
 country, and intercept him at the succeeding 
 post of Varennes.* 
 
 It is painful to reflect on the number of ac- 
 cidents which, by a strange fatality. 
 Journey to combined to ruin the enterprise at the 
 very moment when its success seemed 
 certain. The officer in command at Saint Mene- 
 hould, observing the motions of Drouet, sounded 
 his trumpets to horse; but the National Guard 
 surrounded the stables, and prevented the dra- 
 goons from mounting their horses. An intrepid 
 sergeant, whom he despatched on the footsteps of 
 the emissary, though he got sight of the pursuer, 
 lost him in a wood. The officer commanding 
 the detachment at Clermont no sooner heard of 
 the arrival of the royal carriages, than he mount- 
 ed his horse and commanded his men to follow ; 
 but a rumour of the quality of the fugitives had 
 got abroad, and they refused to obey. At Va- 
 rennes, the royal family were seized with con- 
 sternation at finding neither relays of horses nor 
 a guard of soldiers ; in vain they urged the pos- 
 tillions to proceed; they delayed their journey for 
 some hours, till Drouet had time to rouse the Na- 
 tional Guard and barricade a bridge at the eastern 
 side of the town, through which the road passed. 
 When the king arrived at the bridge, the two 
 gardes du corps, who were seated on the front 
 of the carriage, prepared their arms to force the 
 passage; but the king, finding his progress op- 
 posed by a considerable force, and the muskets 
 of the National Guard presented at the carriage, 
 commanded them to submit. The royal fugi- 
 tives were seized and reconducted by the armed 
 multitude to the post, from whence information 
 was immediately despatched with the important 
 intelligence to Paris. Fortune had not yet ex- 
 hausted her malice. Within an hour after the 
 arrest of the king, two squadrons of dragoons, 
 under the command of M. de Goguelas, arrived. 
 The king, deceived by the apparent kindness of 
 the mayor, persuaded' him to delay the employ- 
 
 * Lac, vni., 248, 256. 
 132. Th., 1., 281). 
 Vol. I.— O 
 
 BouiUfe, II., 275, 280. Mig., i., 
 
 ment of force, and disclosed his name to the per- 
 fidious magistrate, who, instead of acting with, 
 the generosity which such conduct deserved, im- 
 mediately sounded the tocsin, and assembled the 
 National Guards from all the communes in the 
 vicinity. Fresh squadrons of horse, detached 
 by M. de Bouille, arrived; but all the eflbrts of 
 their officers could not prevail on them to assist 
 the king, and he remained in custody at Va- 
 rennes.* 
 
 During the whole of this fatal night, M. de 
 Bouille was on horseback at the head j^^^rest of the 
 of the regiment of Royal AUemand, kj„g, and his 
 whose fidelity could be relied on, return to Pa- 
 under the walls of Stenay, anxiously '''^• 
 expecting the arrival of "the king. Informed too 
 late of the arrest at Varennes, he distributed a 
 louis to each of his soldiers, and set out at the 
 gallop to effect his deliverance. He arrived at 
 Varennes an hour and a half after the aid-de- 
 camp of General La Fayette had entered, with 
 an order to bring the fugitives immediately back 
 to Paris. The royal family had set off an hour 
 before, under a strong guard, on the road to the 
 capital, and the horses of the German regiments 
 were so totally exhausted by the exertions they 
 had made, that farther pursuit was impossible. 
 With inexpressible anguish, M. de Bouille was 
 compelled to renounce an object so long the ob- 
 ject of his ardent wishes, and doomed soon to 
 witness a succession of unfortunate events, which 
 consigned this virtuous monarch to a prison and 
 the scaffold.t 
 
 Various accidents, doubtless, contributed to 
 disconcert this well-combined enterprise, but 
 they might all have been surmounted but for the 
 treachery or disgraceful irresolution of the royal 
 troops, and the officious zeal with which the Na- 
 tional Guard assembled to prevent the escape of 
 their sovereign. History can find no pardon for 
 such conduct. Patriotism cannot excuse the 
 citizen who sought to consign a virtuous mon- 
 arch and his innocent family to the scaffold. 
 Honour blushes for the soldiers who forgot their 
 loyalty amid the cries of the populace, and pennit- 
 ted their sovereign, the heir of twenty kings, to be 
 dragged captive from amid their armed squad- 
 rons. The warmest friend of freedom, if he has a 
 spark of humanity in his bosom, the most ardent 
 Republican, if not steeled against every sentiment 
 of honour, must revolt at such baseness. Britain 
 may well exult at the different conduct which her 
 people exhibited to their fugitive monarchs under 
 the same circumstances, and contrast with the 
 arrest of Louis at Varennes, the fidelity of the 
 western counties to Charles II. after the battle 
 of Worcester, and the devotion of the Scotch 
 Highlanders to the Pretender after the defeat of 
 Culloden.t 
 
 Paris was in the utmost consternation when. 
 the escape of the king was discovered. Consterna- 
 The public joy was proportionally tion at Paris, 
 great when the intelligence of his arrest was re- 
 ceived. Three commissioners, Petion, La Tour 
 Maubourg, and Barnave, were despatched to re- 
 conduct the prisoners to Paris. They met them 
 at Epernay, and travelled with them to the Tuile- 
 
 * IBouill^'s Memoirs, ii., 290. Lac, viii., 265, 267. Th., 
 i. 2fl3 295 296. 
 't Lac. viii., 268. Bouille's Memoirs, li. 298. 
 
 t The secret was intrusted to above 200 persons, most of 
 them in the very poorest circumslances. £30,000 were of- 
 fered for his apprehension ; ronfiscation and death pro- 
 nounced against his adherents ; yet not one Highlander was 
 faithless to his sovereign. 
 
106 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 ries. During the journey, Barnave, though a 
 stem Republican, was so melted by the graceful 
 dignity ol' the queen, and impressed with the good 
 sense and benevolence of the king, that he became 
 inclined to the royal cause, and ever after sup- 
 ported their I'ortunes.* 
 
 The queen, perceiving from the manners and 
 conversation of Barnave that he was a man of 
 generous feeling and enlightened intellect, con- 
 versed openly with him, and produced an impres- 
 sion on his mind which was never afterward ef- 
 faced. His attentions to her were so delicate, and 
 his conduct so gentle, that she assured Madame 
 Campan, on her return, that she forgave him all 
 the injuries he had intiictedon her family — an in- 
 dulgence which she could not extend to the many 
 nobles who had betrayed the throne b}' joining the 
 popular cause. Petion's conduct, on the other 
 hand, was so gross, and his manners to the illus- 
 trious captives so insolent, that it was with dith- 
 culty that Bamave could restrain his indignation. 
 A poor curate approached the caiTiage to address 
 ■the king : the mob who surrounded it instantly 
 fell upon him, threw him on the ground, and were 
 on the point of putting him to death. " Tigers !" 
 cried Barnave, " have you ceased to be French- 
 men ? Calling yourselves brave, have you be- 
 come assassins V The difference between the 
 Constitutionalists and Democrats was already 
 greater than between the former and the throne. 
 From that time forward the queen imrusted her 
 cause to his care more than to any other man in 
 the assembly. " How often would factions the 
 most opposite be reconciled, if they could meet 
 and read each other's thoughts !"t 
 
 The barbarity of the people was singularly 
 «vinced during the journey back to Paris. The 
 two body-guards who had perilled their life in the 
 service of their sovereign, were chained on tlie 
 outside of the carriage ; peasants, anned with 
 scythes and pitchforks, mixed with the escort, 
 uttering the bitterest reproaches ; and at each 
 village the municipal authorities assembled to 
 vent their execrations upon the fallen monarch. 
 Unable to bear such inhuman conduct, the Count 
 de Dampierre, a nobleman inhabiting a chateau 
 near the road, approached to kiss the hand of the 
 king. He was instantly pierced by several balls 
 from the escort, his blood sprinkled the royal 
 •carriage, and his remains were torn to pieces by 
 the savage multitude.; 
 
 During the first transports of alarm and indig- 
 nation, La Fayette was nearly massacred by the 
 populace of Paris, so general was the belief that 
 •the royal famil}'^ could not have escaped without 
 his connivance. § The aid-de-camp whom he 
 had despatched on the first alarm on the road to 
 Varennes, narrowly escaped the same fate. Had 
 he been killed, the royal fugitives would have 
 still been at Varennes when M. de Bouille ar- 
 rived, and all their subsequent misfortunes have 
 -been avoided. 
 
 At length the captives entered Paris. An im- 
 mense crowd was assembled to witness 
 Pan"s™ '° ^^^^'^ return, who received them in sul- 
 len silence. The ^sational Guard no- 
 where presented arms ; threatening and frightful 
 cries were heard from the multitude; the peo- 
 ple, without uncovering themselves, gazed upon 
 their victims. It required the utmost efforts of 
 La Tour Maubourg and Barnave to prevent the 
 
 * Th., i., 298, 299. Mig., i., 134. Lac, viii., 270, 272. 
 t MadaniB de ("anipan, li., 150, et seq. Th., i., 289, 299. 
 ■t Lac, viii., 271. Camp., ii., 151. 
 <) Lac, viii., 276. 
 
 two faithful body-guards from being murdered 
 on the stairs of the Tuileries. Opinions were 
 much divided upon the consequence of the seiz- 
 ure of the royal family : the Democrats openly 
 rejoiced in the re-establishment of their power 
 over them; the humane were already teiTified 
 by the prospect of the fate which, to all appear- 
 ance, awaited them ; the thoughtful, embarrassed, 
 by the consideration of their disposal.* 
 
 In truth, after they were fairly gone, few of the 
 men of any consideration in Paris were desirous 
 for their arrest. The leaders of the popular party 
 were rejoiced at the near prospect of a republic, 
 which the king's flight occasioned ; the Consti- 
 tutionalists, in good faith, desired to see him es- 
 tablished at Montmedy, and emancipated from 
 the state of thraldom in which he had so long 
 been held by the populace ; many of the Royal- 
 ists were not displeased at the abandonment of 
 the helm by a monarch whose concessions had 
 brought the monarchy to the brink of ruin ; all 
 gratified at his extrication from the iron despot- 
 ism of Parisian democracy. In sending the 
 commissioners to arrest the king, the assemblj-, 
 in opposition to its better judgment, yielded to 
 the clamours of an impassioned populace. t 
 
 " The National Assembly," says Napoleon, 
 " never committed so great an error as in bring- 
 ing back the king from Varennes. A fugitive 
 and powerless, he was hastening to the frontier, 
 and in a few hours would have been out of the 
 French territory. What should they have done 
 in these circumstances 1 Clearly facilitated his 
 escape, and declared the throne vacant by his 
 desertion ; they would thus have avoided the 
 infamy of a regicide government, and attained, 
 their great object of republican institutions. In- 
 stead of which, by bringing him back, they em- 
 barrassed themselves with a sovereign whom 
 they had no just reason for destroying, and lost 
 the inestimable advantage of getting quit of the 
 royal family without an act of cnielty."; These 
 are the words of a man who never scnipled at 
 the means necessar}- to gain an end; who was 
 weakened by no mawkish sensibility, and de- 
 terred by no imaginary dangers. They are a 
 fine illustration of the eternal truth, that cruelty 
 is in general as shortsighted as it is inhuman, 
 and that no conduct is so wise as that which is 
 the least open to moral reproach. 
 
 The return of the king a captive to Paris, and 
 the necessity of settling something First ori^ia 
 definite as to his fate, occasioned an ofRepubli- 
 immediate division between the par- can ideas, 
 ties in the capital, and first led to the opea 
 avowal of Republican principles. The mob, 
 with savage ferocity, openly demanded his head; 
 a republic was loudly called for in the clubs 
 of the Cordeliers and Jacobins; Robespierre, 
 Marat, and their associates, daily inflamed the 
 public mind by publications and speeches hav- 
 ing the most revolutionary tendenc}\§ 
 
 "If a republic," said Condorcet, "ensues in 
 consequence of a new revolution, the results 
 will be terrible ; but if it is proclaimed just now, 
 during the omnipotence of the assembly, the 
 transition will be easy ; and it is incomparably 
 better to do it when the power of the king is 
 wholly prostrated, than it will be when he may 
 so far have regained it as to malce an effort to 
 avert the blow." No one at that period ven- 
 tured to argue in the assembly that royaltv was 
 
 * Lac, viii., 281, 2S2, 283. 
 t Napoleon's Memoirs, i., 1. 
 (> Mig.,i., 134. Th., 1., 301. 
 
 t Th., 1., 292, 293. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF KUROPK. 
 
 107 
 
 desirable in itself, or as a counterpoise to the 
 ambition of the people ; the fact that such a doc- 
 trine could not be broached in the legislature is 
 the strongest proof how indispensable it is to 
 i-egulated freedom that it should exist.* 
 
 Seditious cries were incessantly heard in the 
 jitreets; an expression of ferocity characterized 
 the countenances of the numerous groups as- 
 sembled in the public places ; and the frightful 
 figures began to be seen M-ho had emerged from 
 obscurity on the 5th October, and subsequently 
 proved triumphant during the Reign of Terror. 
 On the other hand, the upright and intelligent 
 part of the assembly, awakened by the threaten- 
 ing signs which surrounded them to a sense of 
 the impending danger, united their strength to 
 resist the multitude" Bamave, Duport, and La- 
 meth, although passionate friends of freedom, 
 coalesced with La Fayette and the supporters 
 of a constitutional monarchy. In the struggle 
 which ensued, the want of the powerful voice of 
 Mirabeau was severely felt. But even his com- 
 manding eloquence would have been unavailing. 
 In those days of rising democracy and patri- 
 cian desertion, nothing could resist the newborn 
 energy of the people.t 
 
 On" the morning after his return, Louis was, 
 by a decree of the assembly, provisionally sus- 
 pended from his functions, and a band, composed 
 of National Guards, placed over his person, that 
 of the queen, and the dauphin. All the three 
 were judicially and minutely examined by three 
 deputies, but nothing tending to criminate either 
 elicited. They were strictly guarded in the 
 palace, and allowed only to take a morning 
 walk in the garden of the Tuileries before the 
 public were admitted, while the assembly pre- 
 pared a legislative measure on the subject ol his 
 flight. Bamave and the two Lameths now had 
 the generosity openly to espouse the cause of the 
 imfortunate monarch, and it was in a great de- 
 gree owing to the address and ability of the for- 
 mer, who suggested the answers of the king and 
 queen to the commissioners of the assembly, 
 that he was able to show that he never intended 
 to leave France, but only to extricate himself 
 from the dangers of the capital. Bouille, at the 
 same time, wrote a letter to the assembly, in 
 which he generously took upon himself the en- 
 tire criminality of the jouniey, by protesting that 
 he was its sole author; while he declared, in the 
 name of the allied sovereigns, to whose territo- 
 ries he soon after retired, that he would hold 
 them responsible for the safety of the royal 
 prisoners.: 
 
 The object of the Republicans was to make 
 Object of ttie flight of the king the immediate 
 the Repub- pretext for his dethronement and death; 
 licans. t^hat of the Constitutionalists, to pre- 
 serve the tkrone, notwithstanding the unfortu- 
 nate issue of that attempt. The examination of 
 Louis, on the object of his journey to Varennes, 
 was intended by the Republicans to be the 
 groundwork of his prosecution ; but it was so 
 adroitly managed by the committee to whom it 
 ■was referred, that, instead of efiecting that object, 
 it went far to exculpate him even in the eyes of 
 the most violent of the Jacobin part>^ The 
 seven committees to whom that important ex- 
 amination was referred, reported that the journey 
 of the king aftbrded no foundation for an accu- 
 sation against him. The debate on this report 
 
 * Dumont, 325. 
 
 t Mig., 1., 134, 135. Lac., viii., 284, 285, 292. De Stael, 
 i^ 361. t Th., I., 302, 303. 
 
 called forth the most distinguished leaders, and 
 developed the principles on both sides. The 
 inviolability of the king's person, which had been 
 solenmly agieed to by the assembly, was the 
 ba.'iis of the argument on the constitutional side. 
 " To admit," said Robespierre, in answer, " the 
 inviolability of the king for acts which are per- 
 sonal to himself, is to establish a god upon earth. 
 We can allow no fiction to consecrate impunity 
 to crime, or give any man a right to bathe our 
 families in blood. But you have decreed, it is 
 said, this inviolability; so much the wor.se. An 
 authority more powerful than that of the Consti- 
 tution now condemns it; the authority of reason, 
 the Conscience of the people, the duty of provi- 
 ding for their safety. The Constitution has not 
 decreed the absolute inviolability of the sover- 
 eign; it has only declared him not answerable 
 for the acts of his ministers. To this privilege, 
 already immense, are you prepared to add an 
 iuimunit}^ fiom every personal offence — from 
 perjuiy, mui'der, or robbery 1 Shall we, who have 
 levelled so many other distinctions, leave this, 
 the most dangerous of them all 1 Ask of Eng- 
 land if she recognises such an impunity in her 
 sovereigns! Would you behold a beloved son 
 mui'dered before your eyes by a furious king, 
 and hesitate to deliver him over to criminal jus- 
 tice '? Enact laws which punish all crimes with- 
 out exception, or suffer the people to avenge 
 them for themselves. You have heard the oaths 
 of the king. Where is the juryman who, after 
 having heard his manifesto and the account of 
 his journey, would hesitate to declare him guil- 
 ty of perjur}', that is, felony towards the nation! 
 The king is inviolable ; but so are you. Do you 
 now contend for his privilege to murder with im- 
 punity millions of his subjects 1 Do you dare to 
 pronounce the king innocent, when the nation 
 have declared him guilty! Consult its good 
 sen.se, since 3'our own has abandoned 3'ou. I 
 am called a Republican : whether I am or not, I 
 declare my conviction, that any form of govern- 
 ment is better than that of a feeble monarch, al- 
 ternately the prey of contending factions."* 
 
 '• Regenerators of the empire," said Bamave, 
 in reply, " follow, continue the course you have 
 commenced. Yoir have already sho-nm that 3'OU 
 have courage enough to destroy the abuses of 
 power; now is the time to demonstrate that you 
 have the -u-i-sdom to protect the institutions you 
 have formed. At the moment that we evince 
 our strength, let us manifest our moderation; 
 let us exhibit to the world, intent on our move- 
 ments, the fair spectacle of peace and justice. 
 What would the trial of a king be but the proc- 
 lamation of a republic 1 Are you prepared to 
 destroy, at the first shock, the Constitution you 
 have framed with so much care! You are 
 justly proud of having closed a revolution 
 without a parallel in the annals of the world : 
 you are now called on to commence a new one : 
 to open a gulf of which no human wisdom can 
 see the bottom ; in which laws, lives, and prop- 
 erty would be alike swallowed up. With wis- 
 dom and moderation you have exercised the vast 
 powers committed to you by the state : you have 
 created liberty; beware of substituting in its 
 stead a violent and sanguinary despotism. Be 
 assured that those who now propose to pass sen- 
 tence on the king, will do the same to yourselves 
 when you first thwart their ambition. If you 
 prolong the Revolution, it will increase in vio- 
 
 ' Lac., Tiii., 292, 295, 296. Mig., i., 135, 136. 
 
108 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 lence. You will be beset wiLli clamours for con- 
 liscations and murders ; the people will never be 
 satisfied but with substantial advantages, and 
 they cannot be obtained but by destroying their 
 superiors. The world ^itherto has been awed 
 by the powers we have developed ; let them now 
 be charmed by the gentleness which graces 
 them." 
 
 Moved by these generous sentiments, the as- 
 sembly adopted the report of the committee with 
 only seven dissentient voices. But to this de- 
 cree was annexed, as a concession to the popular 
 paily, a clause, declaring that if the king shall 
 put Jumself at the head of an armed force, and 
 direct it against the nation, he shall be deemed 
 to have abdicated, and shall be responsible for 
 his acts as an ordinaiy citizen. Of this enact- 
 ment the popular party made fatal use in the 
 subsequent insurrections against the throne.* 
 
 Foiled in their endeavours to influence the as- 
 Revolt in sembly, the Democrats next endeav- 
 the Champs oured to rouse the people. A petition, 
 de Mars. drawn up by Brissot, author of the 
 Patriot Franrais, and an able Republican, was 
 taken to the Champs de Mars for signature. 
 The clubs of the Jacobins and Cordeliers decla- 
 red that they would no longer recognise Louis 
 as sovereign, and published the most inflamma- 
 tory harangues, which were immediately plac- 
 arded in all the streets of Paris. A general in- 
 surrection was prepared for the following day. 
 "We will repair," .said they, "to the Field of 
 the Federation, and a hundred thousand men 
 will dethrone the perjured king. That day will 
 be the last of all the friends of treason." The 
 17th of July was the day fixed for the insurrec- 
 tion ; there was no regular force in Paris ; every- 
 thing depended on the firmness of the National 
 Guard.t 
 
 On the morning of the 17th, two ditierent 
 bands of the people were in motion; one decent- 
 ly clothed, grave in manner, small in number, 
 headed by Brissot ; the other, hideous in aspect, 
 ferocious in language, fonnidable in numbers, 
 under the guidance of Robespierre. Both were 
 confident of success, and sure of impmiity ; for 
 hitherto not a single insurrection had been sup- 
 pressed, and not one popular crime, excepting 
 the murder of the baker Francois, had been pun- 
 ished. Two unhappy invalids had placed them- 
 selves imder the steps of the altar on the Champs 
 de Mars to observe the extraordinary scene; a 
 cry arose that they were assassins placed there 
 to blow up the leaders of the people ; without 
 giving themselves the trouble to ascertain wheth- 
 er any powder was there, they beheaded the un- 
 happy wretches on the spot, and paraded their 
 heads on pikes round the altar of France.: 
 
 The assembly took the most energetic meas- 
 Vio-orous ^'"^^ ••" support their authority. They 
 measures declared their sittings permanent, and 
 of the as- caused the municipalit}'^ to summon the 
 sembly. JS'ational G uard to their several rendez- 
 vous ; M. La Fayette put himself at their head, 
 and proceeded towards the Champs de Mars, 
 followed by twelve hundred gi'enadiers. On the 
 road, a traitor in the ranks discliarged a pistol 
 at him, wliich fortimately missed its aim ; he had 
 the magnanimity to liberate the oflender from 
 the confinement in which he was placed. Mean- 
 while the red flag was hoisted, by order of Bail- 
 ly, at the Hotel de Ville, and the good citizens 
 
 * M!g.,i., 137. Lac, viii., 298, 302. Th., i., 309, 310. 
 i Uig., i., 137. Lac, viii., 308. Th., i., 311. 
 i Lac, Kiii., 309, 312. Th., i., 311. 
 
 earnestly urged the proclamation of martial law. 
 Arrived in sight of the insurgents. La Fayette 
 unfurled the red flag, and summoned the multi- 
 tude, in the name of the law, to disperse : cries 
 of "A bas le di'apeau rouge! a bas les baion- 
 nettes !" accompanied by volleys of stones, were 
 the only answer. A discharge in the air was 
 then giv'eu, which not being attended by the ef- 
 fect of intimidation. La Fayette resolutely or- 
 dered a volley point-blank, which immediately 
 brought dowm above one hundred of the insur- 
 gents. In an instant the crowd dispersed, and the 
 Champs de Mars was deserted. Robespierre, 
 Marat, and the other leaders of the in- Victory of 
 surrection disappeared, and the dis- La Fayette, 
 couragement of their party was complete. Trem- 
 bling with apprehension, the former implored 
 an asylum from his friends, deeming himself in- 
 secure, notwithstanding his inviolabilitj' as dep- 
 uty, in his obscure abode. The revolutionary 
 fuiy was efiectually quelled; and had the gov- 
 ernment possessed the energy to have marched 
 on the clubs of the Jacobins and of the Corde- 
 liers, and closed these gi'cat fountains of treason, 
 the constitutional monarchy might have been es- 
 tablished, and the Reign of Terror prevented. 
 But this act of vigour, being followed by no oth- 
 er of the same character, gradually lost its eflfect ; 
 the clubs resumed theii' inflammatoiy debates, 
 the demagogues reappeared li'om their retreats, 
 and the march of the Revolution continued with 
 redoubled vigour.* The recollection of so sig- 
 nal a defeat, however, sunk deep in the minds of 
 the Democrats, and they took a bloody revenge, 
 years afierward, upon the intrepid Bailly, who 
 had first hoisted the signal of resistance to popu- 
 lar licentiousness. 
 
 The assembl}^ was embarrassed by the conse- 
 quences of their success. They re- 
 ceived congratulatoiT addresses "from ?"' '^°."°' 
 
 i- T-i " i_ ^ II i- »i_ lollow It up. 
 
 eveiy part ot h ranee ; but all oi them 
 had a moderate, many a Royalist tendency, a 
 signal proof of the ease with which at this peri- 
 od the Revolution might have been checked by 
 proper firmness in the government and union in 
 the higher classes. It was difficult, in the close 
 of their career, to depart from the principles with 
 which they commenced ; and they were alann- 
 ed at the new allies who crowded romid their 
 victorious standard. Indecision, in consequence, 
 chai'acterized their measures. Recollection of 
 the past inclined them to popular, dread of the 
 future to constitutional measures. In their ef- 
 forts to please all factions they acquired an as- 
 cendency over none, and left the monarchy a 
 prey to the furious passions which now agitated 
 the people from the consequences of the ferment 
 they themselves had created.t 
 
 The termination of their labours was now ap- 
 proaching. The several committees to whom 
 difierent depai-tments of the Constitution had 
 been referred, had all made their reports ; the 
 members were fatigued with their divisions, the 
 people desirous of exercising the powers of elec- 
 tion. Nothing remained but to combine the de- 
 crees regarding the Constitution into one act, 
 and submit it for the sanction of the king.; 
 
 It was proposed, in consolidating the different 
 decrees regarding the Constitution, proposed to 
 to revise some of its articles. The modify the 
 Democratic tendency of many of its Constitution, 
 paits was already perceived ; and the assembly 
 
 * Mi?., i., 138, 139., Lac, viii., 312. 315. Th.,i.,311, 312. 
 t -Ml?., i., \39. Lac, viii., 317, 318. Th., i.,315. 
 ; Mig., i., 140. Th., i., 316. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 109 
 
 trembled at the agitation which pen^aded the 
 empire. All the subordinate questions which 
 remained were decided in favour of the royal 
 authority; but they wanted courage, and per- 
 haps had not influence to alter the cardinal point.s 
 of the Constitution. They were strongly urged, 
 before it was too la{e, to correct their faults. 
 '■ Have the courage," said Malouet, " to confess 
 your errors, and repair them. You are inclined 
 to efface some blemishes ; go a step farther, and 
 correct some deformities. While the work is still 
 in your hands, is it not better to give more strength 
 and stability to the fabric '!" The design of 
 Bamave, Malouet, and the Lameths, who were 
 now fully alive to the perilous nature of the 
 constitution they had framed, was to restore the 
 separation of the Chambers, and the absolute 
 veto to the crown. For this purpose, it was 
 agreed that Malouet should propose the revision 
 of these and many other articles of the Consti- 
 tution; that Barnave should reply in vehement 
 strains, but, at the same time, give up those that 
 were agreed on as proved by experience to be 
 inexpedient. But while this was the general 
 opinion of the rational and pradent members, 
 the violent party-men on both sides, though from 
 different motives, combined to hasten the disso- 
 lution of the assembly. The Royalists wished 
 that the faults of the Constitution should remain 
 so glaring, as to render it impossible to put it in 
 practice. The Jacobins, more alive to the signs 
 ef the times, dreaded the reaction in favour of 
 order which had recently arisen among the high- 
 er, and hoped everything from the revolulionaiy 
 spirit which was now spreading among the low- 
 er orders. In vain Bamave, Lameth, Chape- 
 lier, and other enlightened men, implored them 
 to retain the legislative power yet a while in 
 their hands ; they were met by complaints of 
 their unpopularity, and of the neces.sity of dis- 
 solving while yet any influence remained; and 
 the majority, weary of the Avork of regeneration, 
 resolved to separate. As a la.'^t measure of se- 
 curity, they declared that the representatives of 
 France might revi.se the Constitution, but not 
 till after the expiration of thirty years ; a vain 
 precaution, immediately forgotten amid the im- 
 petuosity and straggles of their successors.* 
 Before fmally submitting the Constitution to 
 the king, the assembly, on the mo- 
 Self-denymg {j^j^ ^f Robespierre, passed a de- 
 
 erdmance. ^ ,. ^ • -i . ^t. w 
 
 structive measure, similar to the self- 
 denying ordinance of the Engli.sh Parliament, 
 declaring that none of its members should be ca- 
 pable of election into the next legislature. This 
 resolution, so ruinous in its consequences, was 
 produced by various motives. The desire of 
 regaining their power on the part of the Aris- 
 tocrats ; inextinguishable resentment against the 
 leaders of the assembly on the part of the court; 
 wild hopes of anarchy, <and a fear of reaction in 
 the existing members, on the part of the Demo- 
 crats ; disinterested patriotism among the friends 
 of their country ; a wish for the popularity con- 
 sequent on a disinterested action, combined to 
 produce a decree fraught with the last miseries 
 to France. The kingVas so ill advised at this 
 juncture, that he employed all his own influ- 
 ence and that of the queen to procure the enact- 
 ment of this decree. The idea was prevalent 
 among the Royalists that the public mind was 
 entirely changed; that the people had become 
 
 * Mig-., i., MO, 145. Lac, viii., 320, 321. Th,, i., 315. 
 Bouillfe, ii., 314, et sec[. 
 
 attached to the sovereign ; and that, if the old 
 members could only be excluded, an as.sembly 
 would be returned at the next election which 
 would undo all that the former had done. When 
 the question accordingly was proposed, the Roy- 
 alists united with the Jacobins, and, stifling all 
 arguments by a crj- for the vote, passed the fatal 
 resolution.* This system of changing their 
 governors at stated periods always has, and al- 
 ways will be, a favourite theme with Republi- 
 cans, because it magnifies their own, and dimin- 
 ishes their ralers' importance ; but it is more 
 rainous than any other system that can be devi- 
 sed to national welfare, because it places the di- 
 rection of affairs forever in inexperienced hands, 
 and gives to private interest the weight which 
 should belong to public virtue. 
 
 Previous to the act of the Constitution being 
 submitted to the king, he was rein- Kin^ rein- 
 vested with the command of his guard, vested with 
 and restored to the freedom of which 1^"* power, 
 he had been deprived since his arrest at Va- 
 rennes. After several day.s' careful examina- 
 tion, he declared his acceptance in the followinff 
 terms : " I accept the Constitution ; I engage to 
 maintain it alike against civil discord and for- 
 eign aggression, and to enforce its execution to 
 the utmost of my power." This 
 message occasioned the warmest ^"^p'" ^^' ^^^^• 
 applause. La Fayette, taking advantage of the 
 moment, procured a general amnesty for all 
 those who had been engaged in the flight of the 
 king, or compromised by the events of the Rev- 
 oludon.t 
 
 On the following day, the king repaired in 
 person to the assembly, to declare g^ ^ . . ,„. 
 his acceptance of the Con.stitution. '"^ " ' ' 
 An immense crowd accompanied hira with loud 
 acclamations ; he was the object of the moment- 
 ary applause of the tribunes of the people ; but 
 the altered state of the royal authority was evin- 
 ced by the formalities obsen'ed even in the midst 
 of the general enthusiasm. The monarch was 
 no longer -seated on a throne apart from his sub- 
 jects; two chairs, in every respect alike, were 
 allotted to liim and to the president; and he did 
 not possess, even in appearance, more authority 
 than the leader of that haughty body.: 
 
 At length, on the '29th September, the sittings 
 of the assembly were clo.sed. The closing of 
 king attended in person, and delivered the assem- 
 a speech full of generous sentiments '^'y- 
 and eloquent expressions. " In returning to 
 your constituents," said he, " j'ou have still an 
 important duty to discharge ; 3'^ou have to make 
 Icnown to the citizens the real meaning of the 
 laws you have enacted, and to explain my sen- 
 timents to the people. Tell them that the king 
 will always be their first and best friend; that 
 he has need of their aflection ; that he knows no 
 enjoyment but iu them and with them ; that the 
 hope of contributing to their happiness will sus- 
 tain his courage, as the satisfaction of having 
 done so will constitute his reward." Loud and 
 sincere applause followed these expressions. 
 The president, Thouret, then, with a loud voice, 
 said, ''The Constituent Assembly declares its 
 mission accomplished, and its .sittings are now 
 closed."§ 
 
 Magnificent fetes were ordered by the king for 
 
 * Damont, 338. 339. Mig., i., 141. Th., i., 314. Lac, 
 viii., 3-23. Bouill6, ii., 330, .-iJS. 
 
 + Mig., i., 141. Th., 1.. 316. Lac, viii., 445. 
 t Mig., i., 141. Lac, viii., .351. Th., i., 316. 
 () Mig., i., 142. Lac, viii., 352. 
 
110 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IV. 
 
 the odca.sion, which exhausted the already weak- 
 ened resources of the throne. The palace and 
 gardens of the Tuileries were superbly illumi- 
 nated, and the king, with the queen and royal 
 family, drove through the long-lighted avenues 
 of the Champs Elysees amid the acclamations 
 of the people. But a vague disquietude perva- 
 ded all ranks of society;* the monarch sought 
 in vain for the expressions of sincere joy which 
 appeared on the lete of the federation of 14th 
 July ; then all was confidence and hope — now, 
 the horrors of anarchy were daily anticipated. 
 The assembly had declared the Revolution clo- 
 sed ; all persons of intelligence feared that it was 
 only about to commence. 
 
 Such is the histor}' of the Constituent Assem- 
 bly of France ; an assembly which, amid much 
 good, has produced more evil than any which 
 has ever existed in the world. Called to the 
 highest destinies, intrusted with the noblest du- 
 ties, it was looked to as commencing a new era 
 in modern civilization, as regenerating an em- 
 pire gray with feudal corruption, but teeming 
 with popular energ}^ How it accomplished the 
 task is now ascertained by experience. Time, 
 the gi'eat vindicator of truth, has unfolded its 
 errors and illustrated its virtues. 
 
 The great evils which atflicted France were 
 Merits and removed by its exertions. Libert}^ 
 errors of the of religious worship, but imperfectly 
 Constituent provided for in 1787, was secured in 
 Assembly, its fullest extent ; torture, and the pun- 
 ishment of the wheel, abolished; trial by jur)-, 
 publicity of criminal proceedings, the examina- 
 tion of witnesses before the accused, coimsel for 
 his defence, fixed by law; the ancient parlia- 
 ments, the fastnesses of a varied jurispmdence, 
 though ennobled by great exertions in favour of 
 freedom, suppressed, and one uniform system of 
 criminal jurisprudence established; lettres de cw- 
 chcl annihilated ; exemption from taxation on the 
 part of the nobles and the clergy extinguished ; 
 an equal system of finance established through 
 the whole kingdom ; the most oppressive im- 
 posts, those on salt and tobacco, the taille, and 
 the tithes, suppressed ; the privileges of the no- 
 bility, the feudal burdens, abolished. France 
 owes to the Constituent Assembly the doubtful 
 experiment of National Guards ; the opening of 
 the army to courage and ability from eveiT class 
 of society ; and a general distribution of land- 
 ed property among the labouring classes — the 
 greatest benefit, when not brought about by in- 
 justice or the spoliation of others, which can be 
 conferred upon a nation.tj The bezieficial ef- 
 
 * De Stael, i., 434, 436. Lac, viii., 352. 353. 
 
 + De Stael, i., 276, 288. 
 
 X It is impossible to travel through Switzerland, Tyrol, 
 Norway, Sweden, Biscay, and other parts of Europe, where 
 the peasantry are proprietors of the land they cultivate, with- 
 out being convinced of the great effect of such a .stale of 
 things in ameliorating the condition of the lower orders, and 
 promoting the development of those habits of comfort and 
 artificial wants which form the true regulator of the princi- 
 ple of increase. The aspect of France since the Revolution, 
 when compared with what it was before that event, abun- 
 dantly proves that its labouring poor have experienced the 
 benefit of this change ; and that, if it had not been brought 
 about by injustice, its fruits would have been highly benefi- 
 cial. But no great act of iniquity can be committed by a 
 nation, any more than an individual, without its consequen- 
 ces being felt by the latest generations. The confiscation 
 of land has been to France what a similar measure was to 
 Ireland, a source of weakness and discord which will never 
 be closed. It has destroyed the barrier alike against the 
 crown and the populace, and left the nation no protection 
 against the violence of either. Freedom has been rendered 
 to the last degree precarious, from the consequences of this 
 
 feet of these changes was speedily demonstrated 
 by the consequences of the errors into which her 
 government subsequently fell. They enabled 
 the nation to bear and to prosper under accumu- 
 lated evils, any one of which would have extin- 
 guished the national strength under the mon- 
 archy : national bankruptcj', depreciated assig- 
 nats, civil divisions, the Rer'gn of Terror, foreign 
 invasion, the conscription of Napoleon, subjuga- 
 tion by Europe. 
 
 The errors of the Constituent Assembly have 
 produced consequences equally important, some 
 still more lasting. By destroying, in a few 
 months, the constitution of a thousand years, 
 they set afloat all the ideas of men, and spread 
 the fever of innovation universally throughout 
 the empire ; by confiscating the property of the 
 Church, they gave a fatal precedent of injustice, 
 too closely followed in future years, exasperated 
 a large and influential class, and dissolved pub- 
 lic manners by leaving the seeds of war between 
 the clerg}' and the people ; by establishing the 
 right of universal suflrage, and conferring the 
 nomination of all offices of trust upon the na- 
 tion, they habituated the people to tne exercise 
 of powers inconsistent with the monarchical 
 form of government which they themselves had 
 established, and which the new possessors were 
 incapable of exercising with advantage. They 
 diminished the influence of the crown to such a 
 degTee as to render it incapable of controlling the 
 people, and left the kingdom a prey to factions, 
 arising out of the hasty changes which they had 
 introduced. Finally, by excluding themselves 
 from the next assembly, they deprived France 
 of all the benefit of their experience, and permit- 
 ted their successors to commence the same cir- 
 cle of error and innovation, to the danger of 
 which they had been too late awakened.* 
 
 By combining the legislature into one assem- 
 bly, in which the representatives of the lower 
 ranks had a decided superiority, they in effect 
 vested supreme political power in one single 
 class of society : a perilous gift at all times, but 
 in an especial manner to be dreaded when that 
 class was in a state of violent excitement, and 
 totally unaccustomed to the powers with which 
 they were intrusted. By removing the check of a 
 separate deliberative assembly, they exposed the 
 political system to the unrestrained influence of 
 those sudden gusts of passion to which all large 
 assemblages of men are occasionally subject, 
 and to which the impetuosity of the French char- 
 acter rendered them in an especial manner lia- 
 ble. By destroying the parliaments, the hie- 
 rarchy, the corporations, and the privileges of 
 the provinces, ttiey swept away the finnest bul- 
 wark by which constitutional freedom might 
 have been "protected in future times, b}' annihi- 
 lating those institutions which combine men of 
 similar interests together, and leaving only a 
 multitude of insulated individuals to maintain a 
 hopeless contest with the executive and the cap- 
 ital, wielding at will the power of the army and 
 the resources of government. By their over- 
 throw of the national religion, and appropriation 
 to secular purposes of all the funds for its sup- 
 port, they not only gave the deepest wound to 
 
 great change ; and the subsequent iiTesistible authority of 
 the central government, how tyrannical soever at Paris, may 
 be distinctly traced to the prostration of the strength of the 
 provinces by the destruction of their landed proprietors. 
 The ruinous consequences of this injustice upon the future 
 freedom of France will be amply demonstr.ited in the se- 
 quel of this work. * Mig,, i., 144. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 public virtue, but inflicted an irreparable injury 
 on the cause of freedom, by arraying under op- 
 posite banners the two great governing powers 
 of the human mind ; diminishing the influence 
 of the elevated and spiritual, and removing the 
 control to the selfish principles of our nature. 
 
 It is a fact worthy of the most serious consid- 
 eration from all who study the action and prog- 
 ress of the human mind under the influence of 
 such convulsions, that all these great and peril- 
 ous changes were carried into effect by the Con- 
 stituent Assembly, without any authority from 
 their constituents, and directly in the face of the 
 cahiers containing the official announcement of 
 their intentions. The form of government which 
 they established, the confiscation of ecclesiasti- 
 cal property which they introduced, the abolition 
 of the provincial parliaments, the suspensive 
 veto, the destruction of titles of honour, the in- 
 fringement on the right of the king to make 
 peace or war, the nomination of judges by the 
 people,* were all so many usurpations directly 
 contrary to the great majority of these official 
 instruments, w"hich still remain a monument of 
 the moderation of the people at the commence- 
 ment, as their subsequent acts were proof of their 
 madness during the progress, of the Revolution. 
 
 The single fault of the Constituent Assembly 
 which led to all these disastrous consequences 
 was, that, losing sight of the object for Avhich 
 alone they were assembled, the redress of griev- 
 ances, they directed all their efforts to the attain- 
 ment of power. Instead of following out the 
 first object, and improving the fabric of the 
 state, to which they were called by their mon- 
 arch and sent by their country, they destroyed 
 all the balances and equipoises which give it a 
 steady direction, and serve as correctives to any 
 violent disposition which may exist in any of 
 the orders. When they had done this, they in- 
 stantly, and with unpardonable perfidy, laid the 
 axe to the root equally of public faith and pri- 
 vate right, by confiscating the property of the 
 Church. They made and recorded what has 
 been aptly styled by Mr. Burke a digest of an- 
 archy, called the Rights of Man, and by their 
 influence destroyed every hold of authority by 
 opinion, religious or civil, on the minds of the 
 people. " The real object," says Mr. Burke, 
 " of all this, was to level all those institutions, 
 and sever all those connexions, natural, reli- 
 gious, and civil, which hold together society by 
 a chain of subordination : to raise soldiers 
 against their officers, tradesmen against their 
 landlords, curates against their bishops, children 
 against their parents." A universal liberation 
 from all restraints, civil and religious, moral, 
 political, and military, w-as the grand end of all 
 their efforts, which the weakness of the holders 
 of property enabled them to carry into complete 
 effect. Their precipitance, rashiiess, and vehe- 
 mence in these measures were the more inexcu- 
 sable, that they had not the usual apology which 
 attends revolutionists, that they were impelled by 
 terror or necessity ; on the contrary, their whole 
 march was a continued triumph ; "their popular- 
 ity was such that they literally directed the pub- 
 lic movement : in unresisted might their pioneers 
 Avent before them, levelling in the dust alike the 
 bulwarks of freedom, the safeguards of proper- 
 ty, the buttresses of religion, the restraints of 
 virtue.t 
 
 * Calonne, 216, 218, 222, 223, 290, 304. 
 t Burke, v., 14, 15, 89. 
 
 Infinite have been the causes assigned for the 
 disastrous progress of the French Revolution. 
 There are lour of such paramount importance 
 that they obliterate all the others ; and these are 
 the fever of hasty innovation, the desertion of 
 the country by the nobility, the character of the 
 king, and the treachery of the army. 
 
 A passion for innovation, a disregard for ev- 
 erything sacred or venerable, a vehe- 
 ment wish to uproot all that is sane- P^^^^'o^ f^ 
 , , K , , innovation. 
 
 tioned by experience or recommended 
 by antiquity, is the sure sign of the revolution- 
 ary fervour; a passion totally distinct from the 
 sober and cautious principles of real freedom. 
 Never did this ruinous passion appear with 
 such vehemence as in France during the sitting 
 of the Constituent Assembly.* A firm union, 
 among all the higher classes, a steadfast adhe- 
 rence to legal right on the part of the deposita- 
 ries of power, could alone be expected to stem 
 so powerful and perilous a torrent, and this was 
 wholly wanting at the very time when it was 
 most required. 
 
 The personal character of the king was doubt- 
 less the fiist and greatest cause which 
 prevented this resistance being oppo- ^^^j^" ^j^*^ 
 sed to the work of innovation, and 
 converted the stream of improvement into the 
 cataract of revolution. Weakness, vacillation, 
 irresolution in presence of democratic ambition, 
 are as fatal as in presence of a hostile army. 
 They are the sure prelude to a bloody defeat. 
 So strongly was this fatal defect in the king's 
 character felt by the wisest men of the popular 
 party in France, that they have not hesitated to 
 ascribe to it the whole miseries of the Revolu- 
 tion.t Had a firm and resolute king been on 
 the throne, it is doubtful whether the R.evolution 
 would have taken place, or, at least, whether it 
 would have been attended by such horrors. All 
 the measures of Louis conspired to bring it 
 about; the benevolence and philanthropy which, 
 duly tempered by resolution, would have formed 
 a perfect, when combined with w^eakness and 
 vacillation produced the most dangerous of sov- 
 ereigns. His indecision, weakness, and half- 
 measures ruined everything; the inferior caus- 
 es which conspired to bring about the same dis- 
 astrous result, all emanated from that source. 
 There was hardly an epoch during the sitting 
 of the first assembly, after its dangerous tenden- 
 cy began to be perceived, when an intrepid mon- 
 arch, aided by a resolute nobility, might not have 
 averted the tempest, turned the stream of innova- 
 tion into constitutional channels, and established, 
 in conformity with the wishes of the great major- 
 ity of the nation, a limited monarchy, similar to 
 that which, for above a century, has given dig- 
 nitv and happiness to the British Empire.t 
 
 The treachery of the troops was the immediate 
 cause of the catastrophe which pre- 
 cipitated the throne beneath the feet J^^"^^^^ 
 of the assembly ; and the terrible ef- 
 fects with vi-hich it was attended, the bloody tyr- 
 anny which it induced, the ruinous career of 
 foreign conquest which it occasioned, and the 
 national subjugation in which it terminated, 
 may in a great degree be ascribed to the treason 
 or vacillation of these, the sworn defenders of 
 order and loyalty. But for their defection, the 
 royal authority would have been respected, dem- 
 ocratic ambition coerced, a rallying-point af- 
 forded for the friends of order, and the changes 
 
 SCgur, i., 272, 324. t Dumont, 343. t Ibid. 
 
112 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 which were required confined within safe and 
 constitutional bounds. The revolt of the French 
 guards was the signal for the dissolution of the 
 bonds of society in France; and they have been 
 Jiardly reconstructed, even by the terrible Com- 
 Taittee of Public Safety, andihe merciless sword 
 of Napoleon. A memorable example of the ex- 
 treme peril of soldiers tampering with their first 
 duties, fidelity and obedience ; and of the wisdom 
 of the ma.xim of tlic first and best of modern Re- 
 publicans, Carnot, " The armed force is essen- 
 tially obedient ; it acts, but never deliberates."'* 
 What tiie treachery of the army had com- 
 menced, the desertion of the nobility consum- 
 mated. The llight of this immense body, with 
 their families and retainers, estimated by Mr. 
 Burke at seventy thousand persons, completed 
 the prostration of the throne by depriving it of 
 its best defenders. The friends of order natural- 
 ly abandoned themselves to despair when they 
 saw the army revolting, the crown yielding, and 
 the nobility taking to flight. Who would make 
 the show even of resisting, when these, the lead- 
 ers and bulwark of the state, gave up the cause 
 as hopeless 1 The energy of ambition, the con- 
 
 fidence arising from numbers, the prestige of 
 opinion, passed over to the other side. A party 
 speedily becomes irresistible when its opponents 
 shrink from the first encounter.* 
 
 The constitution of 1791 did not long survive 
 its authors. 'I'he spirit of revolt commenced 
 with the middling, but speedily descended to the 
 lowest class. They formed the Legislative As- 
 sembly, but it rapidl}' perished under the assaults 
 (jf the multitude ; the victory had been gained by 
 the middling ranks over the aristocracy, but the 
 victors soon sunk beneath the blows of the popu- 
 lace. Such is the natural march of revolutions; 
 each order feels itself restrained by the one imme- 
 diately above itself, and is stimulated to revolt by 
 the successful issue of resistance to still higher 
 authority. A firm combination among the friends 
 of order can alone stop this disastrous progress. 
 In France it was prevented from taking place bj'' 
 the delusive passion for change which infected 
 so many of the better classes ; the weakness of 
 the king, the treachery of the army, and the pu- 
 sillanimous desertion of all the higher ranks in 
 the state.t 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PROM THE OPENING OP THE LEGISLATIVE AS.SEMBLY TO THE FALL OF THE MONARCHY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Formation of the Leq-islative Assembly. — State of the Coun- 
 try during- the Elections. — Continued Emigration of the 
 Nobles.— Its disastrous Effects. — Opening of the Assem- 
 bly. — Its Parties. — The Girondists and Feuillants. — Clubs 
 in the Capital, the Cordeliers and Jacobins. — Contests 
 with the Church. — Debate on the Confiscation of their 
 Property, and the Laws against the Einigrants. — Severe 
 Decrees against tlie latter, and against the Nonjuring 
 Clergy. — The King refuses to Sanction them ; but recalls 
 the Emigrants, and sanctions the Decree against Count 
 <l'Artois.— Election of a Mayor of P.aris.— Debate on the 
 Foreign Relations. — Preparations for War. — They are 
 strongly Opposed by Robespieire. — Change of Ministry. 
 — The Girondists admitted to Power. — Dumourier, his 
 character, and Madame Roland. — Foreign Affairs. — War 
 desired by all Parties, but especially the Girondists. — 
 King yields against his own judgment, and W.ar declared. 
 — Massacre of Avignon. — Dreadful Insurrection in St. 
 Domingo.— Royal Guard disbanded by the Assembly. — 
 Change of Ministry. — New Ministers chosen from the 
 Feuillants. — Girondists, in revenge, organize an Insurrec- 
 tion against the Throne. — La Fayette's Letter to the As- 
 sembly. — Tumult of 20lh June. — Assembly and Royal 
 Palace both overrun by the Populace. — Heroic Conduct 
 of the King, Queen, and Princess Elizabeth. — First Ap- 
 pearance of Napoleon. — Public Indignation at this Out- 
 jage. — La Fayette arrives in Pans.— He is not supported by 
 the Court or National Guard, and fails. — Girondists openly 
 organize a Revolt.— Debates in the Assembly on that Sub- 
 ject.— Fete of 14th July.— Arrival of Fcd6r6s in Paris.— 
 Various Plans of the Court. — Advance of the Prussians 
 and A ustrians.— Proclamation of the Duke of Brunswick 
 — Farther Preparations for a Revolt. — Breaks out on the 
 10th August. — Preparations of the Court, and of the In- 
 surgents. — King retires with the Royal Family to tlie 
 Legislative Assembly — Conflict in the Place Carousel, 
 and Massacre of the Swiss. — Capture and Sack of the 
 Palace. — Dethronement of the King.— General Rellec- 
 tions on the Errors of the Revolutionists, the Nobles, and 
 the Allies, which led to these Events. 
 
 Universal suffrage, or a low qualification for 
 electors, has, in every age of democratic excite- 
 ment, been the favourite object of the people. 
 All men, it is said, are by nature equal; the 
 superior privileges enjoyed by some are the 
 growth of injustice and superstition, and the first 
 
 * Carnot, 329. 
 
 step towards rational freedom is to restore the 
 pristine equality of the species. This principle 
 had been acted upon, accordingly, by the Con- 
 stitutional Assembly. They had given the right 
 of voting for the national representatives to ev- 
 ery labouring man of the better sort in France ; 
 and the Legislative Assembly affords the first 
 example, on a great scale, in modern Europe, 
 of the effects of a completely popular election. 
 
 If the object of government were only the pro- 
 tection of persons from injury or injustice, and 
 eveiy man, in whatever rank, were equally ca- 
 pable of judging on political subjects, there can 
 be no question that tlie claims of the lower or- 
 ders to an equal share in the representation with 
 the higher would be well founded, because every 
 man's life is of equal value to himself But its 
 object is not less the protection of property than 
 that of persons ; and from this double duty arises 
 the necessity of limiting the right of election to 
 those possessing the latter advantage. 
 
 In private life, men are never deceived on this 
 subject. In the administration of any common 
 fund, or the disposal of common property, it nev- 
 er was for a moment proposed to give the small- 
 est shareholder an equal right with the greatest 
 — to give a creditor holding a claim for twenty 
 shillings, for example, on a bankrupt estate, the 
 same vote as one po.s.sessed of a bond for £IQ,0(X). 
 The injustice of such a proceeding is quite ap- 
 parent. The interests of the large shareholders 
 would run the most imminent risk of being vio- 
 lated or neglected by those whose stake was so 
 much more inconsiderable. 
 
 In the political Avorld, the supposed or imme- 
 diate interests of the great body of the people are 
 not only different, but adverse'to that of the pos- 
 sessors of property. To acquire is the iiitere.st 
 of the one, to retain that of the other. Agrari- 
 an laws, and the equal division cf property, or 
 
 Dumont, 347. 
 
 t Do Stael, li., 1, 0. Mig., i., 145 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 113 
 
 measures tending indireclly to that effect, will 
 in every age be the wish of' the unthinking mul- 
 titude, who have nothing apparently to lose, and 
 everything to gain, by .such convulsions. Their 
 real and ultimate interests, indeed, will, in the 
 end, inevitably suffer from such changes; but 
 that is a remote consequence, which never will 
 become obvious to the great body of mankind. 
 
 In the ordinary state of .society, the superior 
 intelligence and "moral energy of the higher or- 
 ders give them the means of effectually con- 
 trolling this natural, but dangerous tendency on 
 the part of their inferiors. But universal suf- 
 frage, or a low fnmchise, levels all the barriers, 
 and reduces the contests of mankind to a mere 
 calculation of numbers. In such a sy.stem, the 
 vote of Napoleon or Newton has no more 
 weight than that of an ignorant mechanic. Rep- 
 resentatives elected under such a .sy.stem are in 
 realit}^ nothing more than tribunes of the people, 
 compelled to support the wishes of their constit- 
 uents. The contests of party resolve themselves 
 into a mere strife of contending interests. In 
 periods of tranquillitj', tliis petty warfare may 
 produce only a .selfish system of legislation; in 
 moments of agitation it occasions a universal 
 insurrection of the lower orders against the 
 higher. 
 
 Th truth of the.se obsen^ations was signally 
 The Legis- demonstrated in the history of the Le- 
 lative As- gislative Assembly. By the enact- 
 sembly. ments of their predecessors, the whole 
 powers of sovereignty had been vested in the 
 people ; they had obtained what almost amount- 
 ed to universal suffrage and biennial elections ; 
 their representatives wielded despotic authority ; 
 they appointed their o-wn magistrates, judges, and 
 bishops ; the military force of the state was in 
 their hands; their delegates commanded the Na- 
 tional Guaid, and ruled the arniies. In posses- 
 sion of such unresisted authority, it was difficult 
 to see what more they could desire, or wliat pre- 
 tence could remain for insurrection against the 
 government. Nevertheless, the legislature which 
 they had themselves appointed became, from the 
 very first, the object of their dislike and jealousy ; 
 and the historj'- of the Legislative Assembly is 
 nothing more than the preparations for the re- 
 volt which overthrew the monarchy.* 
 i " This," says the Republican historian, " is the 
 natural progress of revolutionary troubles. Am- 
 bition, the love of power, first arises in the high- 
 er orders; they exert themselves, and obtain a 
 share of the supreme authority. But the same 
 passion descends in society; it rapidly gains 
 an inferior class, until at length the whole mass 
 is in movement. Satisfied with what they have 
 gained, all persons of intelligence strive to stop ; 
 but it is no longer in their power ; they are in- 
 cessantly pressed on by the crowd ''■ . their rear. 
 Those who thus endeavour to arrest the move- 
 ment, even if they are but little elevated above 
 the lowest class, if they oppose its wishes, are 
 called an aristocrac)'', and incur its odium. "t 
 
 Two unfortunate circumstances contributed, 
 State of the ^™™ '^^ outset, to injure the forma- 
 country du- ^'on of the assembly. These were, 
 Tin^thepri- the king's flight to Varennes, and the 
 maiy elec- universal emigration of the nobles du- 
 tions. j,jj^g l^j^g period of the primary elec- 
 
 tions. 
 
 The intelligence of the disappearance of the 
 king was received in most o; the departments 
 
 *I,ac., Pr. Hi«t.,i., 178. Th., ii., 6, 7. t Th., ii., 7. 
 
 Vol. I.— P 
 
 at the very time of the election of tlie delegates 
 who were to choose the deputies. Terror, dis- 
 trust, and anxiety seized every breast; a gener- 
 al (!.\-plosion of the royal ])artisans was expected ; 
 foreign invasion, domestic strife, universal suf- 
 fering, were imagined to be at hand. In this 
 spirit the primary elections, or the nomination of 
 the electoral colleges, took place. But, before 
 these delegates proceeded to name the deputies, 
 the alarni had in some degree passed away ; the 
 seizure of the king had dissipated the cau.ses of 
 immediate apprehension ; and the revolt of the 
 Jacobins in the Champs de Mars had opened a 
 new source of disquietude. Hence the nomina- 
 tion of the deputies was far from corresponding, 
 in all instances, with the wishes of the original 
 electors; the latter selected, for the most part, 
 energetic, reckless men, calculated to meet the 
 stonny times which were anticipated; the for- 
 mer strove to intersperse among them a few men 
 of property, who might have an interest in main- 
 taining the institutions which had been formed ; 
 the one elected to destroy, the other to preserve. 
 The majority of the deputies were men inclined 
 to support the Constitution as it was now estab- 
 lished; the majority of the original electors de- 
 sirous of a more extensive revolution.* 
 
 But there was one circumstance worthy of es- 
 pecial notice in the composition of this second 
 assembly, which was its almost total separation 
 from the property of the kingdom. In this re- 
 spect it offered a striking contrast to the Constit- 
 uent Assembly, which, though ruled by the Tiers 
 Etat after the pernicious union of the orders, yet 
 numbered among its members some of the great- 
 est proprietors and man}'^ of the noblest names 
 in the kingdom. But in the Legislative Assem- 
 bly there were not fifty persons possessed of 
 .fiiOO a year. The property of France Avas thus 
 totally unrepresented, either directly by the in- 
 fluence of its holders in the elections, or indi- 
 rectly by sjTTipathy and identity of interest be- 
 tween the members of the assembly and the class 
 of proprietors. The legislature was composed 
 almost entirely of presumptuous and halt-edu- 
 cated young men, clerks in counting-houses, or 
 attorneys from provincial towns, who had risen 
 to eminence during the absence of all persons 
 possessed of property, and recommended them- 
 selves to public notice by the vehemence with 
 which, in the popular clubs, they had asserted 
 the principles of democracy. They had, in gen- 
 eral, talent enough to make them both self-suffi- 
 cient and dangerous, without either knowledge 
 profound enough to moderate their views, or 
 property adequate to steady their ambition. If 
 a demon had selected a body calculated to con- 
 sign a nation to perdition, his choice could not 
 have been made more happily to effect his ob- 
 ject.! 
 
 This deplorable result was in part, at least, 
 owing to the flight of the nobility, so increased 
 prolific in all its stages of disaster to emigration 
 France. The continued and increas- °^ nobles, 
 ing emigration of the landholders contributed in. 
 the greatest degree to unhinge the public mind, 
 and proved, perhaps, in the end, the greatest 
 cause of the subsequent miseries of the Revolu- 
 tion. Their number was by this time, with their 
 families, nearly one hundred thousand, of the 
 most wealthy and influential body in France.! 
 All the roads to the Rhine were covered by 
 
 * Th., i., 192. 
 
 t Bnrke. Thoughts on French Afldirs. Works, vii., 51. 
 
 t Burke, viii., 72. Lac, i.,, 191. 
 
114 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 haughty fugitives, whose inability for action was 
 equalled only by the presumption of their hin- 
 guage. They set their face from the first against 
 every species of improvement; would admit of 
 no compromise with the jjopular parly ; and 
 threatened their adversaries with the whole 
 weight of European vengeance if they persisted 
 in demanding it. Coblentz became the great 
 centre of the anti-revolutionary party; ajid to 
 men accustomed to measure the strength of their 
 force by the numl.>er of titles which it contained, 
 a more formidable array could hardly be imagm- 
 ed. But it was totally deticient in the real weight 
 of aristocratic assemblies, the number and spirit 
 of their followers. The young and presumptu- 
 ous nobility, possessing no estimable quality but 
 their valour, were altogether unlit to cope with 
 the moral energy and practical talent which had 
 arisen among the middling orders of France. 
 The corps of the emigrants, though always for- 
 ward and gallant, were too deficient in discipline 
 and subordination to be of much importance in 
 the subsequent campaigns, while their impetu- 
 ous counsels too often betrayed their allies into 
 unfortunate measures. Rashness of advice and 
 inefhciency of conduct have, with the exception 
 of La Vendee, characterized all the military ef- 
 forts of the Royalist party in France, from the 
 commencement to the termination of llie Revo- 
 lution. 
 
 In thus deserting their counliy at the most crili- 
 Its disas- cal period of its history, the French 
 trous effects, nobility betrayed equal baseness and 
 imprudence ; baseness, because it was their duty, 
 under all hazards, to have stood by their sover- 
 eign, and not delivered him in fetters to a rebell- 
 ions people; imprudence, because by joining the 
 ranks of the stranger, and combating against 
 their native country, they detached their own 
 cause from that of France, and subjected them- 
 selves to the eternal reproach of bringing their 
 country into danger for the sake of their separate 
 and exclusive interests. The subsequent strength 
 of the Jacobins was mainly owing to the success- 
 ful appeals which they were always able to make 
 to the patriotism of the people, and to the foreign 
 wars which identified their rale with a career of 
 glory ; the Royalists have never recovered the dis- 
 grace of having joined the armies of the enemy, 
 and regained the throne at the expense of nation- 
 al independence. How difierent might have been 
 the issue of events, if, instead of rousing fruit- 
 less invasions from the German states, the French 
 nobility had put themselves at the liead of the 
 
 fenerous efforts of their own country ; if they 
 ad shared in the glories of La Vendee, or com- 
 bated under the walls of Lyons ! Defeat, in 
 such circumstances, would have been respected, 
 success unsullied ; by acting as they did, over- 
 throw became ruin, and victory humiliation.* 
 
 The new assembly opened its sittings on the 
 October 1 ^^^ °^ October. An unfortunate event 
 1791. ' interrupted the harmony between them 
 Opening of and the king. A deputation of sixty 
 the assem- members was appointed to wait on 
 y* Louis, but he did not receive them, 
 
 and merely sent intimation by the minister of 
 justice that he would admit them on the follow- 
 ing day at twelv-e o'clock. The meeting was 
 cold and unsatisfactory on both sides. Shortly 
 after, the king came in form to the assembly ; he 
 was received with the greatest enthusiasm. His 
 speech was directed chiefly to conciliation, and 
 
 Madame de Sta 1, ii., 1, 9. 
 
 the maintenance of harmony between the differ- 
 ent branches of the government. On this occa- 
 sion Louis experienced the strength of the Re- 
 publican principles, which, under the fostering 
 liand of the Constituent Assembly, had made 
 such rapid progress in France. They first de- 
 creed that the titles of Sire and Your Majesty 
 should be dropped at the ensuing ceremonial; 
 next, that the Icing should be seated on a chair 
 similar in every respect to that of the president. 
 When the monarch refused to come to the as- 
 sembly on these conditions, they yielded that 
 point, but insisted on sitting down when he sat, 
 which was actually done at its opening. The 
 king was so much affected by this circumstance, 
 that when he returned to the queen, he threw 
 himself on a chair and burst into tears.* 
 
 Though not anarchical, the assembly was de- 
 cidedly attached to the principles of democracy. 
 The court and the nobles had exercised no sort 
 of influence on the elections ; the authority of the 
 first was in abeyance; the latter had deserted 
 their countiy. Hence the parties in the assem- 
 bly were different from those in the constituent. 
 None were attached to the royal or aristocratical 
 interests ; the only question that remained wa.s 
 the maintenance or the overthrow of the consti- 
 tutional throne. "Et nous aussi, nous voulons 
 faire une revolution," said one of the revolu- 
 tionary members shortly after his election ; and 
 this, in truth, was the feeling of a large propor- 
 tion of the electors, and a considerable portion 
 of the deputies. The desire of novelty, the am- 
 bition of power, and a restless anxiety for change, 
 had seized the minds of most of those who had 
 not enjoyed a share in the formation of the first 
 Constitution. The object of the first supporters 
 of the Revolution had already become, not to 
 destroy the work of others, but to preserve their 
 own. According to the natural progress of 
 revolutionary changes, the democratic part of 
 the first assembly was the aristocratic of the 
 second.f 
 
 The members on the right, or the friends of 
 the Constitution, were called the Feuil- parties in 
 lants, from the club which formed the the assem- 
 centre of their power. Lameth, Bar- biy. Feu- 
 nave, Duport, Damas, and Vaublanc, "l'^"'^- 
 formed tlie leaders of this party. The National 
 Guard, the army, the magistrates of the depart- 
 ments, in general all the constituted authorities, 
 were in their interest. But they had not the 
 brilliant orators in their ranks who formed the 
 strength of their adversaries; and the support of 
 the people rapidly passed over to the attacking 
 party. I 
 
 The Girondists, so called from the district near 
 Bourdeaux, from whence the most able 
 of their party were elected, compre- 
 hended the Republicans of the assembly, and rep- 
 resented that numerous and enthusiastic body 
 in the state who longed at^er institutions on the 
 model of antiquity. Vergniaud, Guadet, Gen- 
 sonne, Isnard, and Brissot, formed the splendid 
 leaders of that interest, and from their powers of 
 eloquence and habits of thought rapidly rose to 
 celebrity. Brissot was at first the most popular 
 of their leaders, from the infiuence of his journal, 
 the Patriot, where he daily published to France 
 the ideas Avhich his prodigious mental activity 
 had the preceding evening produced in the meet- 
 
 Girondists. 
 
 * Madame Campan, ii., 129. Mig., i., 147. Th., ii,, 
 18. It). 
 
 t Mig., i., 150. Toul., ii., 69. Lac, i., 192. Th., ii., 
 10,11. t Mig., i., 151), 151. Th., li., 11, 12, 13. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 115 
 
 ings of tlic municipality, in the National Assem- 
 bly, or in the club of the Jacobins. Condorcet 
 exercised the ascendant of a ijhilosophic nii'i^J, 
 which gave him nearly the place wliich Rit-yes 
 had held in the Constitutional Assembly; while 
 Petion, calm and resolute, was the man of action 
 of his party, and rapidly acquired the same do- 
 minion in the municipality of Paris, of which he 
 was a member, which Ba'illy had obtained over 
 the middling classes in the commencement of the 
 Revolution. They flattered themselves that they 
 had preserved Republican virtue, Ijecause they 
 were neither addicted to the frivolities, the ex- 
 penses, nor the vices of the court ; forgetting that 
 the zeal of party, the love of power, and the am- 
 bition of popularity, may produce consequences 
 more disastrous, and corruption as great, a.s the 
 love of pleasure, the thirst of gold, or the ambi- 
 tion of kings. They iell at last vmder the attacks 
 of a party more revolutionary and less humane 
 than themselves, who, disregarding the graces of 
 composition and the principles of philosophy, 
 were now assiduously employed in the arts of 
 popularity, and becoming adepts in the infernal 
 means of exciting the multitude.* 
 
 The leaders of this latter party in the assembly 
 were Chabot, Bazixe, and Merlin ; but 
 j'"ob°^s*'' it was not there that their real influence 
 lay. The clubs ol the Jacobins and 
 the Cordeliers were the pillars of their authority ; 
 in the first, Robespierre, Billaud Varennes, and 
 Collot d'Herbois, ruled with absolute sway; the 
 latter was under the dominion of Danton, Car- 
 rier, Desmoulins, and Fal re d'Eglantine. Robes- 
 pierre was excluded froin the assembly by the 
 self-denying ordinance v hich he himself had pro- 
 posed; but he had acqv;ired an omnipotent sway 
 at the Jacobins', by the extravagance of his opin- 
 ions, the condensed e ^ergy of his language, and 
 the reputation of i!ite^rity, which had already ac- 
 quired for him the s irname of the Incorruptible. 
 In the Faubourg ft. Antoiue, the brewer San- 
 terre, well know-n in the bloodiest days of the 
 Revolution, had outained an undisputed ascend- 
 ency ; while the municipality of Paris, elected 
 according to the new system, by the universal 
 sufirage of the inhabitants, had fallen, as might 
 have been anticipated, into the hands of the most 
 violent and least respectable of the demagogues.t 
 The importance of this body was not at first per- 
 ceived ; but possessing, as it did, the means of 
 rousing at pleasure the strength of the capital, it 
 soon acquired a preponderating influence, and 
 was enabled to enthral a government which 
 the armies of Europe sought in vain to sub- 
 due. 
 
 It is admitted by the Republican writers, that at 
 this period the king and queen were sincerely in- 
 clined to support the Constitution. { In truth, 
 Louis had great hopes of its success ; and though 
 he was not insensible to its faults, and desired 
 its modification in several particulars, yet he 
 trusted to time, and the returning good sense of 
 the nation, to effect these changes, and was re- 
 solved to give it a fair trial. The queen parti- 
 cipated in the same sentiments; and, from the 
 comparative tranquillity of the last year, began 
 to entertain sanguine hopes that the anarchy of 
 the nation might at length be stilled.! 
 The first serious contest of the new assembly 
 
 »M,g. 
 
 ft' 151. 
 
 Diim 
 
 .381. 
 
 Th 
 
 . li 
 
 , 12 
 
 
 
 
 i Miij. 
 
 , i., \^2 
 
 Th., 
 
 ii., 13, 
 
 15. 
 
 T. 
 
 nl i 
 
 .,!)3 
 
 
 
 t Til., 
 
 ii.. 205. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 <) BeitiiinJ de 
 
 Mollev 
 
 Ho, VI 
 
 ,2a, 
 
 ct 
 
 scq. 
 
 Mad. 
 
 Ci 
 
 inpan. 
 
 ii., 261. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Avas with the emigrants and the cler- Contests with 
 g}^ By one flagrant act of injustice, the cimrch. 
 the Constituent Assembly had left Oct. 6, 1791. 
 the seeds of eternal discord between the revolu- 
 tionary party and the Church. The suflerers 
 naturally, were indefatigable in their endeavours 
 to rouse the people to support their cause. The 
 bishops and priests exerted all their influence to 
 stimulate the country population ; and they suc- 
 ceeded, especially in the western provinces, in 
 producing a most powerful sensation. Circular 
 letters were despatched to the cures of the par- 
 ishes, and instructions generally transmitted to 
 the people. The constitutional clergy were there 
 represented as irregular and unholy ; their per- 
 formance of the sacraments impious and nuga- 
 tory ; marriage by them as nothing but concu- 
 binage; Divine vengeance as likely to follow an 
 attendance on their service.* Roused by these 
 representations, the rural population in the dis- 
 tricts of Calvados, Gevandan, and La Vendee, 
 broke into open disturbances. 
 
 Brissot proposed to take instant and vigorous 
 measm-es with the dissident clergy and „ 
 refractory emigrants. " Every method ^'^'""^'^ °- 
 of conciliation," said Isnard, " with these class- 
 es is useless: what eiTect has followed all your 
 former indulgence towards them 1 Their auda- 
 city has risen in proportion to your forbearance: 
 they will never cease to injure, till they lose the 
 power of doing so. They must either be con- 
 querors or conquered ; matters have fairly come 
 to that ; and he must be blind indeed who does 
 not see it in the clearest light."! 
 
 " The right of going from one country to an- 
 other," said Brissot, ■' is one of the 
 inherent rights of man ; but the right Debate on the 
 
 1 .. 1 . emitjrants. 
 
 ceases when it lecomes a crime. ° 
 
 Can there be a more flagrant offence than that 
 of emigrating, <jr the purpose of bringing on our 
 country the h .rrors of faeign warl What oth- 
 er object ha/e the crowds who now daily leave 
 France 1 Hear theit menaces, examine their 
 conduct, 'ead their lioels, and you will see what 
 they eal', honour is what the universal voice of 
 manki'.d has condemned as the height of base- 
 ness. Can we b'; ignorant that at this moment 
 the .abinets of Europe are besieged by their im- 
 ponunity, and i.ossibly preparing to second their 
 eutreaties'? Confidence is every day sinking; 
 ;ne rapid fall of the assignats renders nugatory 
 the best-laid plans of finance. How is it possi- 
 ble to put a curb on the factions of the interior, 
 when we suffer the emigrants to escape with im- 
 punity, who are about to bring the scourge of 
 foreign war upon all our homes V'x 
 
 The Constitutional party could not deny the 
 justice of these alarms, but they strove to moder- 
 ate the severity of the measures which were 
 proposed to be adopted against the emigrants. 
 " We are about," said they, " to put the sincerity 
 of the king to too severe a trial, il'we require 
 him to adopt measures of severity against his 
 nearest relations. Foreign powers can hardly 
 be convinced that he really enjoys his freedom ; 
 and is it by his consenting to such an act that 
 their doubts are to be removed ? What will be 
 tne eiTect of the extreme measures which are pro- 
 posed ? Are they likely to calm the passions, 
 sooth the pride, or heal the wounds which have 
 been inflamed 1 They will bring back lew of 
 the absent, irritate many of the present. Time, 
 
 * Ferriere, i.. 32. Mis'. 
 t Mi„'., li., 155. Th., ii 
 
 ii., 154. Th., li ,2" 
 274. t Lac, Pr. His 
 
116 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 distress, the frigid hospitality of strangers, the 
 love of home, a sense of our justice, must be the 
 means of restoring the love of their country in 
 their bosoms ; by the proposed measures you 
 ■will extinguish it. The Constituent Assembly, 
 more wise than ourselves, beheld witli contempt 
 those assemblages of discontented spirits on the 
 frontier, who would be more really formidable 
 if exercising their spleen at home. A signal of 
 alarm so sounded by us would excite the jeal- 
 ousy of all the European powers, and really 
 bring on those foreign dangers which would 
 never have arisen from the supplications of our 
 nobility. The pain of confiscation is odious in 
 the most tyrannical states ; what must it be con- 
 sidered in a nation exercising the first rights of 
 freedom 1 Are all the emigrants culpable in an 
 equal degree 1 How many has fear rendered 
 exiles from their country 1 Are you now to pro- 
 claim to the world that these fears were well 
 founded, to justify their desertion of France, and 
 to demonstrate to mankind that the picture they 
 have drawn of our government is nowise over- 
 charged 1 Let us rather prove that their calum- 
 nies were unfounded, and silence their com- 
 plaints by pursuing a conduct diametrically op- 
 posite to that which they anticipate."* 
 
 The assembly, influenced by the pressing dan- 
 Decree against gers of emigration, disregarded all 
 the emigrants, these considerations. Two decrees 
 Oct. 30, 1791. -nrere passed, the first of which com- 
 manded the king's brother to return to France, 
 under pain of being held to have abdicated his 
 eventual right to the regency; while the second 
 declared all the French without the kingdom en- 
 gaged in a conspiracy against the constitution; 
 and subjected all those who should not return 
 before the 1st of January to the penalty of death, 
 and confiscation of their estates, under reserva- 
 tion of the rights of their wives, children, and 
 creditors. + 
 
 This proceeding on the part of the French as- 
 sembly cannot be better characterized than in the 
 words of the eloquent author of the Vindicia 
 GaXLica, who cannot be suspected of undue prej- 
 udice against the Revolution. " Examples of 
 this kind," says Sir James Macintosh, " are in- 
 stances of that reckless tyranny which punishes 
 the innocent to make sure of including the guil- 
 ty, as well as of that refined cruelty which, after 
 rendering home odious, perhaps insupportable, 
 pursues with unrelenting rage such of its vic- 
 tims as fly to foreign lands. "j 
 
 The disposal of the refractory clergy was the 
 next object of the assembly : it exci- 
 thecbrsT '^"^ debates more stormy than those on 
 the emigrants, in proportion as reli- 
 gious rancour is more bitter than civil dissen- 
 sion. " What are you about to do '?" exclaimed 
 the advocates of the clergy. " Have you, who 
 have consecrated the freedom of worship, been 
 the first to violate it 1 The Declaration of the 
 Rights of Man places it on a basis even more sol- 
 emn than the Constitution ; and yet you serious- 
 ly propose to subvert it % The Constituent As- 
 sembly, the author of so much good to France, 
 has left this one schism as a legacy to its suc- 
 cessors ; close it, for God's sake, but do not wi- 
 den the breach. To refuse an oath from a sense 
 of duty can never be blameable; to take it from 
 a desire of gain is alone disgraceful. Shall we 
 deprive tho^e, who decline from conscientious 
 
 * Lac, i., 207. 
 
 t Mig., i., 156, Lac, i.. 208. Th., ii., 23, 24. 
 
 X Macintosh's England, iii., 162. 
 
 scruples, of the slender subsistence which they 
 enjoy 1 Destroyers of political inequality, shall 
 we re-establish a distinction more odious than 
 any, by crushing to the dust a meritorious class 
 of men % Who ^hall guarantee ourselves from 
 similar spoliation, if we reduce to beggarj- the 
 earliest supporters of the Revolution, those who 
 first joined our standard after the immortal oath 
 in the Tennis-court 1 Beware of driving to 
 desperation a set of men still possessing exten- 
 sive influence over the rural population. If you 
 are dead to every sentiment of justice, yet pause 
 before you adopt a measure so likely to awaken 
 the flames of civil war in our bosoms." But 
 the days of reason and justice were past. The 
 leaders of the popular party all declared against 
 the priests. Even Condorcet, the advocate of 
 freedom of worship, was the lirst to support the 
 violent measures proposed against them. It was 
 resolved that all the clerg}' should be ordained 
 instantly to take the oath to the Constitution, un- 
 der pain of being deprived of their benefices, and 
 declared suspected of treason against the state. 
 They were ordered to be moved from place to 
 place, to prevent their acquiring any influence 
 over their flocks, and imprisoned if they refused 
 to obey. On no account were they to exercise 
 any religious rites in private.* Such was the 
 liberty which the Revolution had already be- 
 stowed upon France — such its gratitude to its 
 first supporters. 
 
 The adoption of these severe and oppressive 
 enactments was signalized by the first open ex- 
 pression of irreligious or atheistical sentiments 
 in the assembly. "My God is the law; I ac- 
 knowledge no other," was the expression of one 
 of the opponents of the Church. The remon- 
 strance of the Constitutional bishops had no ef- 
 fect. These and similar expjessions were loud- 
 ly applauded, and the decree was carried in the 
 midst of tumult and acclamation. + 
 
 When these acts were submitted, agreeably to 
 the Constitution, to the king for his j^j„ ^^f^. 
 consideration, he sanctioned the first sestosauc- 
 decree against the emigrants, but put tiou these 
 his veto upon the last, and the one ''<^<^''ees. 
 against the priests. He had previously and 
 openly censured his brother's desertion of the 
 kingdom, and his disapproval of the general 
 emigration of the noblesse was well known to 
 all parties; but he was unwilling to give his 
 sanction to the extreme measures which were 
 now meditated against them. It was proposed 
 in the council that, to pacify the people, whom 
 it was well known the exercise of tne veto would 
 exasperate, the king should dismiss all his re- 
 ligious attendants excepting those who had taken 
 the oaths to the Constitution ; but to this Louis, 
 though in general so flexible, opposed an invin- 
 cible resistance, observing that it would ill be- 
 come those who had declared the right of every 
 subject in the realm to liberty of conscience, to 
 deny it to the sovereign alone. In acting thus 
 firmly, he was suppoited by a large portion of 
 the Constitutional party, and by the directory of 
 the department of Paris ; and he stood much in 
 need of their adhesion in thus coming to open 
 rupture with the people and the legislature.! 
 
 The announcement of tlie king's refusal was 
 received with veiy different impressions 
 by the different parties in the asseinbly. °^' 
 The Republicans could not disguise their satis- 
 
 * Th., ii., 2S. Lac, i., 909. Mig., ij,., 156. 
 t Lan., ii., 209. Mig., ii., 156 
 X Mig., ii., 157. Th., ii., 30, 31. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 117 
 
 faction at a step which promised to embroil him 
 still farther with the nation, and to give to their 
 ambitious projects the weight of popular sup- 
 port. They congratulated the ministers in terms 
 of irony on the decisive proof they had now given 
 of the freedom of the tlirone. On the following 
 moniing, a severe proclamation from Louis ap- 
 peared against the emigrants. The Feuillaiits 
 animadverted upon it as an unconstitutional 
 stretch of prerogative ; the Jacobins, as too in- 
 dulgent in its expressions.* 
 
 The choice of a maj^or for the city of Paris 
 El ction of •'>h"''tly after occupied the attention of 
 a nmyor of the capital. La Fayette had retired 
 Paris. from the command of the National 
 November Guard, and was a candidate for that 
 17, 1/91. (iignitj'. He was supported by the 
 Constitutionalists, while Petion, the organ of 
 the now united Giroudist.s and Jacobins, was the 
 favourite of the people. The court, jealous of 
 La Fayette, who had never ceased to be the ob- 
 ject of dislike, especially to the queen, since the 
 5th October,* had the imprudence to tlirow the 
 weight of the crown into the scale for Petion, 
 and even to expend large sums of money fur that 
 puipose. "M. La Fayette," said the queen, 
 "aspires to the mayoralty in the hope of soon 
 becoming a mayor of the palace ; Petion is a 
 Jacobin and a Republican, but he is a fool, in- 
 capable of rendering himself the head of a par- 
 ty." Petion accordingly was elected, and threw 
 the whole weight of his influence into the scale 
 of the Revolution. On such miserable grounds 
 did the court alienate the affections of the friends 
 of a constitutional, and throw offices of trust into 
 the hands of the supporters of a republican gov- 
 eniment.t 
 
 Encouraged by this success, the Republicans 
 Debate o Openly aspii'cd to still more important 
 the foreign powers. The great object of their en- 
 powers and deavours was to get the king involved 
 the emi- j^ g, foreign war, in the hoi>e, which 
 giants. subsequent events so completely justi- 
 fied, that their cause being identified with that 
 of national independence, would become trium- 
 phant. They expressed the utmost satisfaction 
 at the firm tone adopted by the king in the proc- 
 lamation against the emigrants. " Let us raise 
 ourselves," said Isnard, " on this occasion, to 
 the real dignity of our situation ; let us speak to 
 the ministers, to the king, to Europe in anns, 
 with the firmness which becomes us : let us tell 
 the former that we are not satisfied with their 
 conduct ; that they must make their election be- 
 tween public gratitude and the vengeance of the 
 laws ; and that by vengeance we mean death. 
 Let us tell the king that his interest is to defend 
 the Constitution ; that he reigns by the people 
 and for the people ; that the nation is his sover- 
 eign, and that he is the subject of the law. Let 
 us tell Europe that if the French nation ch'aws 
 the sword, it wiU throw away the scabbard; that 
 it will not again seek it till cro%vned by the lau- 
 rels of victoiy ; that if cabinets engage kings in 
 a war against the people, we will rouse the peo- 
 ple to mortal strife with sovereigns. Let us tell 
 them that the combats in which the people en- 
 gage by order of despots, resemble the strife of 
 two friends under cloud of night, at the instiga- 
 tion of a perfidious emissary; when the dawn 
 appears, and they recognise each other, they 
 throw away their arms, embrace with transport, 
 and turn their vengeance against the author of 
 
 Lac, i., 211. 
 
 t Mis., i., 158; i.,9!, 05. 
 
 their discord. Such will be the fate of our ene- 
 mies, if, at the moment when their armies en- 
 gage with ours, the light of philosophy strikes 
 their eyes." Transported by these . 
 ideas, the assembly unanimmislij **^' 
 adopted the proposed measure of addressing the 
 throne. Vaublanc was the organ of their depu- 
 tation. "No sooner," .said he, "did the assem- 
 bly cast their eyes on the state of the kingdom, 
 than they perceived that the troubles which agi- 
 tate it have their source in the criminal prepara- 
 tions of the French emigrants. Their audacity- 
 is supported by the German princes, who, forget- 
 ting the faith of treaties, openly encourage their 
 armaments, and compel counter-preparations on 
 our part, which absorb the sums destined to the 
 liquidation of the debt. It is your province to 
 put a stop to these evils, and hold to foreiga 
 powers the language befitting a king of the 
 French. Tell them that, wherever preparations 
 of war are carried on, there France beholds noth- 
 ing but enemies ; that we will religiously observe 
 peace on our side ; that we will respect their 
 laws, their usages, their constitutions; but that, 
 if they continue to favour the aniiaments des- 
 tined against the French, France will bring into 
 their bosoms, not fire and sword, but freedom. 
 It is for them to calculate the consequences of 
 such a wakening of their people." The king 
 promised to take the message of the assembly 
 into the most serious consideration, and a few 
 days after came in person to the „ . . j»gj 
 Chamber, aird announced that he • > • 
 had notified to the Elector of Treves and the 
 other electors, that if they did not, before the 
 1.5th January, put an end to the military prepar- 
 ations in their states, he would regard them as 
 enemies ; and that he had written to the emperor, 
 to call upon him, as the head of the Empire, to 
 prevent the disastrous consecjuences of a war. 
 "If these remonstrances," he concluded, "are 
 not attended to, nothing will remain but to de- 
 clare war, a step which a people who have re- 
 nounced the idea of conquest will never take 
 without absoliite necessity, but from which a 
 generous and free nation will not shrink whea 
 called by ihe voice of honour and public safety." 
 Loud applauses followed these words ; and it 
 was already manifest that the revolutionary en- 
 ergy M'as turning into its natural chaimel, war- 
 like achievement.* 
 
 These declarations were followed by serious 
 preparations. Narbonne, a young 
 and entei-prising man of the party of forTi!'""^ 
 the Feuillants, was appointed minis- 
 ter at war, and immediately set out for the fron- 
 tiers. One hundred and fifty thousand men were 
 put in immediate requisition, and twenty mill- 
 ions of francs (£800,000) voted for that ptu'pose. 
 Three armies were organized, one under the 
 command of Rochambeau, one of Luckner, one 
 of La Fayette. The Count d'Artois and the 
 Prince of Conde were accused of conspiring 
 against the security of the state and of the Consti- 
 tution, and their estates put under sequestration. 
 Finally, the Count de Provence, afterward Louis 
 XVIII., not having obeyed the requisition to re- 
 turn to the kingdom within the appointed time, 
 was deprived of his right to the regency .t 
 
 The Elector of Treves obeyed the requisition ; 
 but the Emperor of Austria, though naturally pa- 
 cific, and totally unprepared for war, gave orders 
 
 * Miff., i., 162. Th., ii., 38. 
 
 t Mig., 1., 162. Lac, i., 217. Th.,ii.,39,40. 
 
118 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 to his general, the Marshal of Bender, to defend 
 the elector if he was attacked, and insisted that 
 the rights of the leudal lords sliould he re-e^.tab- 
 lished in Alsace. Meanwhile the imperial troops 
 were put in motion : liliy thousand men were 
 stationed in the Low Countries ; six thousand 
 in the Brisgaw ; thirty thousand ordered for Bo- 
 hemia.* 
 
 The Emperor Leopold was extremely averse 
 The emper- lo a contest, lor which he was unpre- 
 or wishes to pared, and which he was well aware 
 avoid war. -^yas hostile to his interests. His ob- 
 ject was to establish a congress, and adjust the 
 disputed points with France in such a manner as 
 might satisfy all parties. He was aware of the 
 necessity of maintaining the constitutional sys- 
 tem entire in its material parts, but wished to re- 
 store to the throne some of its lost prerogatives, 
 and divide the legislature into two chambers ; 
 alterations which experience has proved it would 
 have been well for France if she could have 
 imposed on her turbulent and impassioned peo- 
 ple.t 
 
 Brissot was the decided advocate for war in 
 the Club of the Jacobins ; his influ- 
 
 Eoberferre ^^^^ ^^ '•^^^ subject was long coun- 
 espier . jgj.ij^j^j^j,g^ ^y ^jjj^t ^f Robespierre, 
 
 ■who dreaded above all things the accession of 
 strength which his political opponents might re- 
 ceive from the command of the armies. " Be- 
 ware," said he, in the Jacobin Club, " you who 
 have so long guarded against the perfidy of the 
 court, of now becoming the unconscious instru- 
 ments of its designs. Brissot is clear for war ; 
 I ask you where are your armies, your fortress- 
 es, your magazines 1 What ! shall we believe 
 that the court, which, in periods of tranquillity, 
 is incessantly engaged in intrigues, will abstain 
 from them when it obtains the lead of our ar- 
 mies 1 I see clearly the signs of perfidy, not 
 only in those who are to proclaim war, but in 
 those who advise it. Every one must perceive 
 that the efforts of the emigrants to rouse foreign 
 powers are utterly nugatory. Are you to be the 
 party, by a hasty measure, to compel them to 
 adopt vigorous steps 1 I alfirm, without the fear 
 of contradiction, that the blood of our soldiers is 
 sold by traitors. The more I meditate on the 
 chances of war, the more my mind is filled with 
 the most gloomy presages. Already I see the 
 men who basely shed the blood of our fellow- 
 citizens on the Champ de Mars at the head 
 of the armies. What guarantee am I offered 
 against such appalling dangers 1 The patriot- 
 ism of Brissot and Condorcet ! I know not if it 
 is true ; I know not if it is sincere ; but I know 
 well that it is tardy. I have seen them worship 
 M. La Fayette ; they made a show of resistance 
 at the time of his odious success ; but they have 
 since upheld his fortunes, and evinced but too 
 plainly that they were participant in his designs 
 against the public weal."; 
 
 While these divisions were going on among 
 the Revolutionar}^ party, the ministers 
 SS"w °^ of the king were daily declining in in- 
 nuiu= ry- flyence. Divided among themselves, 
 they were unable to withstand the incessant at- 
 tacks of the assembly and the patriot clubs. 
 The one half, led by Delessart and Bertrand de 
 MoUeville, were inclined to the Aristocratic ; the 
 other, headed by Narbonne and Cahier de Ger- 
 ville, to t he Democratic side. Sensible of the 
 
 * Lac, i., 163. Th., ii., 41. 
 
 t Bouille, li.. 2£9, 309. Th., ii., 41. 
 
 t Lac, i., 216, 217. Th., ii., 47, 49. 
 
 weakness of their adversaries, the popular lead- 
 ers in the assembly pushed their advantages, and 
 preferred an accusation against the two Ibimer 
 of the ministry. Though they were bathed for 
 some time by "the ability and presence of mind 
 of Bertrand de MolleviU'e, yet at length the king 
 was obliged to yield, and make a total change in 
 his councils.* 
 
 The principle adopted in the fonnation of the 
 new ministry was tlie same as that acted on in 
 similar extremities by Charles I., to divide the 
 opposition by the selection of the least intemper- 
 ate of its members. Roland was made minu^ter 
 of the interior; Dumourier received the portfo- 
 lio of foreign alfairs ; Lacoste, Claviere, Du- 
 ranthon, and Servan were severally appointed to 
 tlie marine, the finances, the judicatory, and war.t 
 
 Dumourier was forty-seven years of age when 
 he was called to this important situ- 
 ation. He had many of the qualities J^haracter of 
 
 „ 1 •, .^. Dumourier. 
 
 ot a great man: abilities; an enter- 
 prising character ; indefatigable activity ; impet- 
 uosity of disposition; confidence in his oAvn for- 
 tune ; a steady and rapid coup d'wil. Fertile in re- 
 sources, pliant in temper, engaging in conversa- 
 tion, unbounded in ambition, he was eminently 
 qualified to rise to distinction in periods of civil 
 commotion. But these great mental powers 
 were counterbalanced by others of an opposite 
 tendency. A courtier before 1789, a Constitu- 
 tionalist under the first assembly, a Girondist 
 under the second, he seemed inclined to change 
 with every wind that blew, in the constant desire 
 to raise himself to the head of affairs. Volatile, 
 fickle, inconsiderate, he adopted measures too 
 hastily to ensure success; veering with all the 
 changes of the times, he wanted the ascendant 
 of a powerful, and the weight of a virtuous char- 
 acter. Had he possessed, with his own genius, 
 the firmness of Bouille, the passions of Mira- 
 beau, or the dogmatism of Robespierre, he might, 
 for a time, have ruled the Revolution. An admi- 
 rable partisan, he was a feeble leader of a party; 
 well qualified to play the part of Antony or Al- 
 cibiades, he was unfit to follow the steps of Cae- 
 sar or Cromwell.t 
 
 Austere in character, simple in manners, firm 
 in principle, Roland was in every re- of. M. and 
 spect the reverse of Dumourier. His Madame 
 disposition had nothing in common Rola"d. 
 with the age in which he lived; he brought to 
 the government of France, in the eighteenth cen- 
 tuiy, the integrity and simplicity of the Sabine 
 farm. A steady Republican, he was well quali- 
 fied for a quiescent, but ill for an incipient state 
 of freedom; uncompromising in his principles, 
 unostentatious in his maimers, unambitious in 
 his inclination, he would probably never have 
 emerged from the seclusion of private life but 
 for the splendid abilities and brilliant character 
 of his wife. Impassioned in disposition, capti- 
 vating in manner, unrivalled in conversation, 
 this remarkable woman united the graces of the 
 French to the elevation of the Roman character. 
 Born in the middling ranks, her manners, though 
 vv'ithout the ease of dignified birth, yet conferred 
 distinction on an elevated station: surrounded 
 by the most fascinating society in France, she 
 preserved unsullied the simplicity of domestic 
 life. She had as much virtue as pride, as 
 much ambition as private worth. Her sensitive 
 temperament could not endure the constant at- 
 
 * Mig., i., 164. Lac, i., 218, 219. 
 
 ■f -M fr., i., 164. Lac, i., 224. Th., ii., 57, 58. 
 
 t -Ml-., 104. Lac, i., 22J. Th., ii., 59. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 119 
 
 tacks made on her husband at the tribune, and 
 she replied, perhaps with undue warmth, in arti- 
 cles, in pamphlets, and public journals which 
 bore her husband's name. An ardent admirer 
 ol'antiquitv, she wept, while yet in infancy, that 
 she was not born a Koman citizen. She lived 
 to witness misfortunes greater than were known 
 to ancient states, and to bear them with more 
 than Roman con.'5tancy.*+ 
 
 The couit named tlie new ministry " Le Min- 
 istere sans Culottes." The first time that Ro- 
 land presented himself at the palace, he was 
 dressed with strings in his shoes and a round 
 hat. The master of the ceremonies refused to ad- 
 mit him in such an unwonted costume, not know- 
 ing who he was ; but being allerward infonned, 
 and inconsequence obliged to do so, he turned to 
 Dumourier, and said with a sigh, "Ah, sir, no 
 buckles in his shoes!" "All is lost !" replied 
 the minister of foreign afiairs, with sarcastic 
 irony.: 
 
 The first duty of the new ministry was to pre- 
 Mar. 17, 1T92. P^rc for a Avar. The situation of for- 
 State of for- eign atlairs became daily more men- 
 eign affairs, acing. The aged and pacific Leopold 
 was just dead; and his successor, Francis II., 
 young and inexperienced, was not likely to be in- 
 lluenced by his circumspection. Austria was col- 
 lecting her troops and placing garrisons in situa- 
 tions calculated to menace the district of the Jura ; 
 the assemblage of emigrants atCoblentzhadbeen 
 renewed with more vigour than ever; and mili- 
 tary preparations, though on a limited scale, 
 were going forward in the Low Countries. The 
 ultimatum on which Austria agreed to discon- 
 tinue her preparations was the re-establishment 
 of the monarchy on the footing on which it was 
 put by the declaration of 23d June, 1789; the 
 restitution of their property to the clergy; the 
 cession of Alsace, with all its senorial rights, to 
 the German princes, and of Avignon to the 
 pope. These terms were deemed wholly inad- 
 missible by the revolutionaiy leaders, and it was 
 evident to all parties that a contest was inevita- 
 ble.§ 
 
 All classes in France were equally anxious 
 War desired for war. The Royalists hoped eve- 
 by all parties ry thing from the invasion of the Ger- 
 in France, j^^j^ powers ; the superiority of their 
 discipline, the number of their armies, led them 
 to anticipate an immediate march to Paris, and 
 the final extinction of the revolutionarj' ma- 
 nia, from which they had suffered so much. 
 The Constitutionalists, worn out with the pain- 
 ful struggle they had so long maintained with 
 their domestic enemies, expected to regain their 
 ascendency by the influence of the army, and 
 the experienced necessity of military discipline. 
 The Democrats eagerly desired the excitation 
 and tumult of campaigns, from all the chances 
 of which they hoped to derive advantage :^"icto- 
 rious, they looked to the establishment of their 
 principles in foreign states; vanquished, they 
 anticipated the downfall of the Constitutionalists, 
 and their own installation in their stead. II 
 
 Pressed alike by his friends, his ministers, 
 
 * Roland's Memoirs,!., 32. Ml?., i., 165. Th.,ii.,63,64. 
 Lac, I., 225. Hist, de la Conv., i., 38. 
 
 t She was, however, too active and enterprising for a 
 statesman's wife. " When I wish to see the minister of the 
 interior," said Condovcet, " I can never get a glimpse of 
 anything but the petticoats of his wife." — Hist, dc la Con- 
 vention, i., 38. 
 
 t Mis., i., ]fi6. Th., ii., 65. 
 
 I) Mis;., ii.. 167. Lac. i., 226. Th., ii., 70, 72. 
 
 II Lac, i., 228. Th., 47, 49. 
 
 and his enemies, Louis was at length 
 compelled to take the fatal step. Un ]~'-^ ^^^* 
 the 20th of April he repaired to the 
 assembly, and afier a long exposition by Du- 
 mourier of the grounds of complaint t, , . 
 
 * . ^ 1 ^ .1 lie kiner 
 
 against Austria; the secret tenour ot yields, 
 the conferences of Mantua, Reichen- against his 
 bach, and Pilnitz; the coalition of ""■'" i'^'^s- 
 kings formed to arrest the progress of "'^'"' 
 the Revolution ; the open protection given to the 
 troops of the emigrants ; and the intolerable con- 
 ditions of the ultimatum, pronounced, with a 
 tremulous voice, these irrevocable words : " You 
 have heard, gentlemen, the result of my negotia- 
 tions with the court of Vienna: they are con- 
 formable to the sentiments more than once ex- 
 pressed to me by the National Assembly, and 
 confirmed by the great majorit}^ of the kingdom. 
 All prefer a war to the continuance of outrages 
 to the national honour, or menaces to the nation- 
 al safety. 1 have exhausted all the means of pa- 
 cification in my power; I now come, in terms 
 of the Constitution, to propose to the assembly 
 that we should declare war against the King of 
 Hungary and Bohemia." This declaration was 
 received in silence, intemipted only by partial 
 applause. How unanimous soever the mem- 
 bers were in approving the declaration of the 
 king, they were too deeply impressed with the 
 solemnity and grandeur of the occasion to give 
 vent to any noisy ebullition of feeling. In the 
 evening, on a meeting specially convened for 
 the occasion, war was almost unanimously 
 agreed to.* 
 
 A large proportion of the most enlightened 
 men in the assembly, including Condorcet, Clav- 
 iere, Roland, and De Graves, disapproved of this 
 step, and yet voted for it — a striking proof of the 
 manner in which, in troubled times, the more 
 moderate and rational party are swept along by 
 the daring measures of more vehement and reck- 
 less men.t 
 
 The king was well aware that the interests of 
 his family could not be benefited, but necessa- 
 rily must be injured by the events of the war, 
 whatever they might be ; if victorious, the peo- 
 ple would be more imperious in their demands, 
 and more difficult for the crowm to govern ; van- 
 quished, he would be accused of treachery, and 
 made to bear the load of public indignation. So 
 strongly was he impressed by these considera- 
 tions, and so thoroughly convinced that his con- 
 duct, in agreeing to this war, might hereafter be 
 made the subject of accusation at the trial which 
 he was w"ell aware was approaching, that he 
 drew up a record of the proceedings of the coun- 
 cil, where he delivered his opinions against the 
 war, and aiter getting it signed by all the minis- 
 ters, deposited it in the iron closet which about 
 this time he had secretly made in the wall of his 
 apartments in the Tuileries, to contain the most 
 important papers in his possession, both those 
 calculated to found a charge against him, and 
 support his defence when brought to trial. The 
 closet, with its contents, was aftenvard betrayed 
 by the treachery of the blacksmith who was em- 
 ployed to make it.* 
 
 Thus commenced the greatest, the most bloody, 
 and the most interesting war which has agitated 
 mankind since the fall of the Roman Empire. 
 Rising from feeble besfinnings, it at length in- 
 volved the world in its conflagration; involving 
 
 * Mig., i.. 108. Lac, ii., 228. Th., ii., 75, 76. 
 
 t Dumont, 416. t M. Campan, ii., 222. Th., li., t3. 
 
lao 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 the interests, and rousing the passions of every 
 class of the people, it brought unheard-of annies 
 into the field, and was carried on witli a degree 
 of exasperation unknown in civilized times. But 
 from tliis strife of princii)le, as well as interest, 
 the fair fabric of civil liberty is destined, let us 
 hope, at length to emerge, it not in the country 
 where it arose, at least elsewhere in the world ; 
 and in the efforts both uf sovereigns to ci-ush and 
 demagogues to madden its spirit, are to be Ibund 
 the means by which wisdom is taught, and mod- 
 eration finally impressed upon the masses of the 
 people, and a better temper induced by the suf- 
 ferings than can ever arise from the unbroken 
 prosperity of mankind. 
 
 The intelligence of the declaration of war was 
 received with joy by all France, and by none 
 more so than by those districts which were des- 
 tined to sutler most from its ultimate effects. 
 The Jacobins beheld in it the termination of 
 Iheir apprehensions occasioned by the emigrants, 
 and the uncertain conduct of the king. The 
 Constitutionalists hoped that the common dan- 
 ger would unite all the factions which now dis- 
 tracted the commonwealth, while the field of 
 battle would mow down the turbulent characters 
 whom the Revolution had brought forth. A few 
 of the Feuillants only reproached the assembly 
 with having violated the Constitution, and begun 
 a war of aggression, Avhich could not fail in the 
 end to terminate fatally for France.* 
 
 It communicated a new impulse to the public 
 mind, already so strongly excited. The dis- 
 tricts, the mmiicipalities, and tlie clubs wrote 
 addresses to the assembly, congratulating them 
 on having vindicated the national honour; arms 
 "wei'e prepared, pikes forged, gii'ts provided, and 
 the nation seemed impatient only to receive its 
 invaders. But the efforts of patriotism, strong 
 as an auxiliary' to a military force, are seldom 
 able to supply its place. The first combats were 
 all unsuccessful to the French arms; and it will 
 more than once appear in the sequel, that, had 
 the allies acted with more decision, and pressed 
 on to Palis before military experience had been 
 superadded to the enthusiasm of their adversa- 
 ries, there can be no doubt that the war might 
 have been teraiinated in a single campaign.t 
 
 Two events occupied the attention of the as- 
 sembly about this time in different quarters, 
 which evinced the perilous nature of the piinci- 
 ples which were now promulgated from the 
 French capital. 
 
 The first of these was the massacre of Avig- 
 non. This city had been the theatre 
 Massacre of of bloodv events ever since the period 
 
 Avignon. r- .. ■• -.i n r-ni . 
 
 of its union with i ranee. This en- 
 croachment upon the rights of the Hoi}- See had 
 been consented to with extreme reluctance by 
 Louis, and never thoroughly acquiesced in by 
 the inhabitants. Two parties, one favourable, 
 the other opposed to the incorporation, divided 
 the city. The latter had murdered Lecuyer, 
 secretary to the municipality, at the foot of the 
 altar, whither he had fled for refuge. The re- 
 venge of the popular part}' was slow, but not the 
 
 n -in i-Qi ^^®® atrocious. In silence they col- 
 uct. JO, 1/91. jg^jg^ jj^gjj. fQj.(.eg^ 3jj^j af length, 
 
 when all assistance was absent, surrounded the 
 city. The gates were closed, the walls guarded 
 so as to render escape impossible, and a band of 
 assassins sought out, in their own houses, the 
 individuals destined for death. Sixty unhappy 
 
 *Th., 11., 77. t Mig.,i.,169. Tout., ii., 121. Th.,ii.,79. 
 
 wretches were speedily thrust into prison, where, 
 during the obscurity of night, the murderers 
 wreaked their vengeance with impunity. One 
 young man put fourteen to death with his own 
 hand, and at length only desisted from excess of 
 fatigue ; the father was brought to witness the 
 massacre of his cliildren; the children of the fa- 
 ther, to aggravate their suflerings : twelve wom- 
 en perished after having undergone tortures 
 worse than death itself; an old priest, remarka- 
 ble lor a life of beneficence, who had escaped, 
 A\'as pursued and sacrificed by the objects of his 
 bounty. When vengeance had done its worst, 
 the remains of the victims were torn and muti- 
 lated, and heaped up in a ditch or thrown into 
 the Rhone.* 
 
 The recital of these atrocities excited the ut- 
 most commiseration in the assembly. Cries of 
 indignation ai'ose on all sides; the president 
 fainted after reading the letter which communi- 
 cated its details. But this, like almost all the 
 other crimes of the popular party during the prog- 
 ress of the Revolution, remained unpunished. 
 The legislature, after some delaj', felt it necessa- 
 ry to proclaim an amnesty, and some of the au- 
 thors of this massacre afterward fell the victims, 
 on the 3lst May, of the sanguinary passions of 
 which they had given so cruel an example. la 
 a revolution, the ruling power, themselves sup- 
 ported by the populace, can seldom punish their 
 excesses ; the period of reaction must be waited 
 for before it can, in general, be attempted.t 
 
 The second catastrophe, more extensive in its 
 operation, yet more terrible in its de- Dreadful in- 
 tails, was the revolt of St. Domingo, surrectionof 
 The slaves in that flourishing colony, St. Domin- 
 agitated by the intelligence which they ^"■ 
 received of the levelling principles ofthe Constit- 
 uent Assembly, had early manifested symptoms 
 of insubordination. The assembly, divided be- 
 tween the desire of enfranchising so large a body 
 of men, and tlie evident dangers of such a step, 
 had long hesitated on the course they should 
 adopt, and were inclined to support the rights of 
 the planters. But the passions of the negroes 
 were excited by the efforts of a society styled 
 " The Society of Friends of the Blacks," of 
 which Brissot was the leading member; and the 
 mulattoes were induced, by their injudicious ad- 
 vice, to organize an insurrection. They trusted 
 that they would be able to control the ferocity 
 of the slaves even during the heats of a revolt; 
 the}' little knew the dissimulation and cruelty of 
 the savage character. A universal revolt was 
 planned and organized, without the slightest sus- 
 picion on the part of the planters, and the same 
 night fixed on for its breaking out over the whole 
 island.l 
 
 At length, at midnight, on the 30th October, the 
 insurrection broke forth. In an in- October 30 
 stant l*velve hundred coffee and two 1791. 
 hundred sugar plantations were in flames ; the 
 buildings, the machinery, the farm-offices, redu- 
 ced to ashes ; the unfortunate proprietors hunted 
 down, murdered, or thrown into the flames by 
 the infuriated negroes. The horrors of a ser- 
 vile war universally appeared. The unchained 
 African signalized his ingenuity by the discovery 
 of new and unheard-of modes of torture. An 
 unhappy planter was sawed asunder between two 
 boards; the horrors inflicted on the women ex- 
 ceeded anything known even in the annals of 
 
 * Lac, i., 213. Toal., ii., 97. 
 t Tout., ii., 98. Lac., i., 214. 
 
 tLac, i., 213. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 121 
 
 Christian ferocity. The indulgent master was 
 sacrificed equally with the inhumane; on all 
 alike, young and old, rich and poor, the wrongs 
 of an oppressed race were indiscriminately 
 wreaked. Crowds of slaves traversed the coun- 
 try with the heads of the white children affi.xed 
 on their pikes; they served as the standards of 
 these furious assemblages.* In a few instances 
 only, the humanity of the negro character re- 
 sisted the savage contagion oi' the time ; and 
 some faithful slaves, at the hazard of their own 
 lives, fed in caves their masters or their children, 
 whom they had rescued from destruction. 
 
 The intelligence of these disasters excited an 
 angry discussion in the assembly. Brissot, the 
 most vehement opponent of slavery, ascribed 
 them all to the refusal of the blessings of freedom 
 to the negroes ; the moderate members, to the in- 
 flammatorj' addresses circulated among them by 
 the Anti-Slavery Society of Paris. At length it 
 was agreed to concede the political rights for 
 ■which they contended to the men of colour; and, 
 in consequence of that resolution, St. Domingo 
 obtained the nominal blessings of freedom. t But 
 it is not thus that the great changes of nature are 
 conducted ; a child does not acquire the strength 
 of manhood in an hour, or a tree the consistency 
 of the hardy denizens of the forest in a season. 
 The hasty philanthropists who conferred upon 
 an ignorant slave population the precipitate gift 
 of freedom, did them a greater injury than their 
 worst enemies. The black population remain 
 to this day, in St. Domingo, a memorable exam- 
 ple of the ruinous effect of precipitate emanci- 
 pation. Without the steady habits of civilized 
 society; ignorant of the wants which reconcile 
 to a liie of labour ; destitute of the support which 
 a regular government might have allbrded, they 
 have brought to the duties of cultivated the hab- 
 its of savage life. To the indolence of the ne- 
 gro character they have joined the vices of Eu- 
 ropean corruption; profligate, idle, and disorder- 
 ly, they have declined both in numbers and in 
 happiness ; from being the greatest sugar plan- 
 tation in the world, the island has been reduced 
 to the necessity of importing that valuable pro- 
 duce ; and the inhabitants, naked and voluptu- 
 ous, are fast receding into the state of nature 
 from which their ancestors were torn, two cen- 
 turies ago, by the rapacity of Christian ava- 
 il ce.t 
 
 Meanwhile the disasters of the armies, the nat- 
 ural eflt3ct of thirty years' unbroken Continental 
 peace, and recent license and insubordination, 
 produced the utmost consternation in Paris. 
 The power of the Jacobins was rapidly in- 
 creasing ; their affiliated societies were daily ex- 
 tending their ramifications throughout France, 
 and the debates of the parent club shook the 
 kingdom from one end to another. They ac- 
 cused the Pcoyalistsof'having occasioned the de- 
 feats, by raising treasonable cries of Sauve qui 
 peid ; the aristocrats could not dissemble their 
 joy at events which promised shortly to bring 
 the allied armies to Paris, and restore the ancient 
 rcgim^, ; the generals attributed their disasters to 
 Dumourier, who had planned the campaign ; he 
 ascribed everything to the defective mode in 
 
 * Lac, i., 214. Toul., ii., 98. 
 
 t Lac , i., 215. Tdul., ii.. 98. 
 
 t The d.aails of ths dreadful insurrection, with a full 
 account of the s\ilisequcnt history of St. Domingo, will be 
 given in a succeedmsr chapter, w'h'ch treats of the expedi- 
 tion of Napoleon to that island. It is not the least impor- 
 tant period of the eventful era. Vide infra. Chap, xxxvii. 
 
 which his orders had been executed. Distrust 
 and recrimination universally prevailed.* 
 
 In this extremity, the assembly took the most 
 energetic measures for ensuring their 
 own authority and the public safetv ^"P^ ^^^^ 
 They declared their sittings permk- '^'^^'""'^'^■ 
 nent, disbanded the guard of the king, which had 
 excited the popular jealousy, and passed a decree 
 condemning the refractory clergy to exile. To 
 secure the capital from insult, they directed the 
 formation of a camp of twenty thousand men 
 near Paris, and sought to maintain the enthusi- 
 asm of the people by revolutionary fites, and 
 increase their efficiency by arming" them with 
 pikes. The disbanding of the royal guard was- 
 carried only by a small majority, and in spite of 
 the most violent opposition. "The veil," said 
 Gerardin, " is now withdrawn ; the insurrectioii 
 against the throne is no longer disguised. We 
 are called on, in a period of acknowledged pub- 
 lic danger, to remove the last constitutional pro- 
 tection from the crown. Why are we always 
 told of the dangers to be apprehended from the 
 Royalist faction 1 a party weak in numbers, des- 
 picable in influence, whom it would be so easy 
 to subdue. I see two factions and a double se't 
 of dangers, and one advances by hasty strides to 
 a regicide government. Would to God my an- 
 ticipations may prove unfounded ! But I caimot 
 shut my eyes to the striking analogy of the two 
 countries: I cannot forget that, in a similar crisis, 
 the Long Parliament disbanded the guard of 
 Charles I. What fate awaited that unhappy 
 monarch 1 What now awaits the constitutional 
 sovereign of the French V't 
 
 The royal guard was remodelled after its dis- 
 solution : the officers in part chosen from a dif- 
 ferent class, the staff put into different hands, and 
 companies of pikemen introduced from the fau- 
 bourgs to neutralize the loyalty of their fellow- 
 soldiers. The Constitutional party made the 
 most vigorous remonstrances against these haz- 
 ardous innovations. But their efforts were vain: 
 the approach of danger and the public agitation 
 had thrown the whole weight of government into 
 the hands of the Jacobins.: 
 
 The evident peril of his situation roused the 
 pacilic king into more than usual vigour. His 
 ministers were incessantly urging him to give 
 his sanction to the decree of exile against the 
 non-juring priests, and to admit the Constitutional 
 clergy free access to his person, in order to re- 
 move all ground for complaint on the score of 
 religion. But on these points Louis was im- 
 movable. Indifferent to personal danger, com- 
 paratively insensible to the diminution of the 
 royal prerogative, he was resolutely determined 
 to make no compromise with his religious duties. 
 By degrees he became estranged from the party 
 of the Gironde, and remained several days with- 
 out addressing them, or letting them know his 
 determination in that particular. It was then 
 that Madame Roland wrote, in name of her 
 
 husband, the famous letter to the king, in , ,„ 
 1 . , ,' , , , , . , °' June 10. 
 
 which she strongly urged lum to become 
 
 with sincerity a constitutional monarch, and put 
 
 an end to the public troubles by sanctioning the 
 
 decrees against the priests. This letter, written 
 
 with much eloquence, but in too Republican a 
 
 spirit, excited the anger of Louis, and Servan, 
 
 *Mlg.,i., 171. Toul., ii., 121. Lac, i., 233. Th., ii., 
 80, 81. 
 
 t Lac, i., 234. Mig-., i., 172. 
 
 t Mig., i., 172. Th., ii., 87. 
 
122 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 Roland, and Clavifere were dismissed with mark- 
 ed expressions of dissatisfaction.* 
 
 Dumourier endeavoured to take advantage of 
 J 12 i"9'' tliese events to elevate his own power 
 uno ' ' - in the administration. He consent- 
 ed to remain in the ministry, and separate himself 
 irom his friends, on condition thatttie king should 
 sanction the decree against the priests. But Louis 
 persisted in his refusal to ratity these decrees, or 
 the formation of a camp of twenty thousand men 
 at Paris. " You should have thought," said Du- 
 mourier, " of these objections, before you agreed 
 to the first decree of the Constituent Assembly, 
 which enjoined the clergy to take the oaths." 
 " I was wrong then," answered the king ; " 1 will 
 not commit such an error on a second occasion." 
 Dumourier, al^er having lost the confidence of 
 ]iis party, found himself compelled to set out tor 
 the army, where he soon acquired a more lasting 
 reputation as a general.t The assembly broke 
 out into the most furious invectives against the 
 court upon the dismissal of the popular minis- 
 ters, and declared that they earned with them 
 the regrets of the nation. 
 
 The new ministry were chosen from among 
 New minis- the Feuillants. Scipion Chambonnas 
 tryfrumthe and Terrier Montiel were appointed 
 Feuillants. to the foreign affairs and the finances ; 
 but they were without consideration either with 
 their party or the country. The crown lost the 
 support of the only men in France who were sin- 
 cere in their belief that they would advance the 
 cause of freedom by means of the Revolution, at 
 the very moment that its most violent excesses 
 •were about to break out. The king was so much 
 disconcerted at the proved impossibility of form- 
 ing an efficient administration, that he fell into a 
 state of mental depression, which he had never 
 experienced since the commencement of tiie pub- 
 lic disturbances. For ten days together he hard- 
 ly articulated a word, and seemed so completely 
 overwhelmed as to have lost almost the physical 
 power of motion. The queen, whose energy no- 
 thing could subdue, at length extricated him from 
 that deplorable state, by throwing herself at his 
 feet, and conjuring him, by the duty he owed to 
 her and their children, to summon up more reso- 
 lution ; and if death was unavoidable, to perish 
 with honour, combating for their rights, rather 
 than remain to be stifled within the walls of the 
 palace. t 
 
 But if this heroic princess thus exerted herself 
 to rouse the spirit of the king, it was not becau.se 
 she was either ignorant of, or insensible to, the 
 dangers which surroimded her. In the palace 
 of the Tuileries, where she was virtually con- 
 fined as a prisoner, the cannoniers of the guard 
 openly insulted her when she appeared at the 
 •windows, and expressed, in the most brutal lan- 
 guage, their desire to see her head on the point 
 of their bayonets. The gardens of the palace 
 ■were the scenes of every species of disorder. In 
 one quarter, a popular orator was to be seen 
 pouring forth treason and sedition to an enrap- 
 tured audience; in another, an ecclesiastic was 
 thrown down, and beaten with merciless severi- 
 ty ; while the people, with thoughtless confidence, 
 pursued their walks round the marbled parterres, 
 as if they had no interest in the insults which 
 were levelled at religion and the throne.§ 
 
 The king at this time had opened a secret 
 
 * Mi?., i., 173. t,ac., i., 239. 
 
 + Lac. i., 240. Mig., i.. 173. Th., ii., 103, 104. 
 
 t Madame Campan, ii., 205. Lac., i., 240. Mig., i., 174. 
 
 () Duniout, iii., 6. 
 
 correspondence with the allied courts, in tlie 
 view of directing aiKl moderating their meas- 
 ures ill advancing for his deliverance. For this 
 purpose he had despatched M. Mallet du Pan to 
 V^ienna, with instructions written with his own 
 hand, in which he recommended that they should 
 advance into the l-rench territory with the ut- 
 most caution, show every indulgence to the in- 
 habitants, and cause their march to be preceded 
 by a manifesto, in which they should avow the 
 most motlerate and conciliatory dispositions. 
 The original document remains a precious mon- 
 ument of the wisdom and patriotic spirit of that 
 unhappy sovereign. It is remarkable that he 
 recommends, in order to separate the ruling fac- 
 tion of the Jacobins from tiie nation, exactly the 
 same language and conduct which was, through- 
 out the wliole period, strenuously recommended 
 by Mr. Burke, and was, twenty years afterward, 
 employed with so much success by the Emperor 
 Alexander and the allied sovereigns, to detach the 
 French people Irom the standards of Napolejn.*t 
 Alarmed at the evident danger of the monar- 
 chy, the friends of the Constitution used the most 
 vigorous means to repress the growing spirit 
 of insubordination, and support the throne. 
 Lally Tollendal and Malouet, of the ancient 
 monarchical party, united with the leaders of 
 the Feuillants, Duport, Lameth, and Barnave, 
 tor this purpose. La Fayette, who was employ- 
 ed on the frontier at the head of the army, em- 
 ployed his immense influence for the same ob- 
 ject. From the camp at Maubeuge, he . 
 wrote, on the 16th of June, an energetic ""* ' 
 letter to the assembly, in which he denounced 
 the Jacobin faction, demanded the dissolution 
 of the clubs, the emancipation and establishment 
 of a constitutional throne; and conjured the as- 
 sembly, in the name of itself, of the army, and 
 of all the friends of liberty, to confine themselves 
 to strictly legal measures. This letter had the 
 success which may be anticipated for all at- 
 
 * Bertrand de Molleville, viii., 38, 39. Th., ii., 109. 
 t The king recummeuded that the Emperor and King of 
 Prussia should publish a proclamation, in which they should 
 declare '• that they were obliged to lake up arms to resist 
 the aggression made upon them, which they a5cribed neither 
 to the king nor the nation, but to the criminal faction which 
 domineered alike over the one and the other : that, in con- 
 sequence, lar from departing from the friendly feelings 
 which they entertained towards the King of France, their 
 majesties had taken up arms only to deliver him and the 
 nation from an atrocious tyranny, which equally oppressed 
 both, and to enable them to re-establish freedom upon a se- 
 cure foundation : that they had no intentions of intermed- 
 dling in any form with the internal government of the na- 
 tion, but only desired to restore to it the power of choosing 
 that which really was in accoidance witli the wishes of the 
 great majority : thai they had no Ihonghts whatever of for- 
 eign conquest: that individual siiould be not less protected 
 than national property : that their majesties took undei their 
 especial s ifeguard all faithful and peaceable citizens, and 
 declared war only against those who now ruled with a nxi 
 of mm all who aimed at the establishment of freedom." lu 
 puisuance of these principles, he besought the eniirrrants to 
 take no part in the war ; to avoid everything which could 
 give It the appearance of a contest between one nation and 
 another ; and urged the allies to appear as parties, not arbi- 
 ters, 111 the contest between the crown and the people ; w, lin- 
 ing tliem tliat any other ondurt '■ would inlallibly endc'nger 
 ihe livtsuf the king and myal family, overtura (he thnue, 
 lead to the massacre of the Royalists ; raliy to the Jacobins all 
 the Revolutionists, wlio were daily becoming more alienated 
 from them ; revive an excitation which was fast decining, 
 and render more obstinate a national resistance, which would 
 yield at the fust reverse, if the nation was only convineed 
 that the fate of the Rr-volutioii was not wound up in the de- 
 struction of those who had hitherto been its victims." This 
 liologra|.h do<'uinent was dited in June, 1792, two months 
 befire the lOth .August. Thcie is not a more strikiiiir mon- 
 ument of politic il wisdom ,ind for' sight on record in mtxleiij 
 tunes.— See Bertrand de .Molleville, viii., 37-39. 
 
1702.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 123 
 
 tempts to control a revolution by those who have 
 been instrumental in producing it ; it excited the 
 most violent di.s.satislaction, destroyed the popu- 
 larity of the writer, and was totally nugatory in 
 calming the populace.* 
 
 'i'he Girondists, chagrined at the loss of their 
 The Giron- pl^^-'es in the administration, pro- 
 dists plan a cceded to the most ruinous exces.ses. 
 revolt of the They experienced now that cruel ne- 
 populuce. cessity to which all who seek to rise 
 by the passions of the people are sooner or later 
 subjected, that of submitting to the vices, and al- 
 lying themselves with the brutality of the mob. 
 They openly associated with, and flattered men 
 of tlie most revolting habits and disgusting vul- 
 garity, and conunenced that system of revolu- 
 tionary equality which was so soon to banish 
 politeness, humanity, and every gentler virtue 
 from French society.t They resolved to rouse 
 the people by inflammatory petitions and ha- 
 rangues, and hoped to intimidate the court by 
 the show of popular resistance — a dangerous ex- 
 pedient, and which, in the end, proved as fatal 
 to them as to the power against which it was di- 
 rected. A general insurrection, under their gui- 
 dance, was prepared in the faubourgs, and, un- 
 der the pretence of celebrating the anniversaiy 
 of the I'ennis-court Oath, which was approach- 
 ing, a body of ten thousand men was organized 
 in the quarter of St. Antoine. Thus, while the 
 Royalists were urging the approach of the Euro- 
 pean powers,: the patriots were rousing the in- 
 surrection of the people. Both produced their 
 natural efl'ect.s — the Reign of Terror, and the 
 despotism of Napoleon. 
 
 On the 20th June, a tumultuous body, ten thou- 
 Disgraceful sand Strong, secretly organized by 
 tiiiimlt on the Petion, mayor of Paris, and the 
 20th of June, practical leader of the Girondists, 
 set out fiom the Faubourg St. Antoine, and di- 
 rected itself towards the assembly. It was the 
 first attempt to overawe the legislature by the 
 display of mere brute force. The deputation 
 was introduced into the hall, while the doors 
 were besieged by a clamorous multitude. They 
 spoke in the most violent and menacing manner, 
 declaring that they were resolved to avail them- 
 selves of the means of resistance in their power, 
 and which were recognised in the Declaration 
 
 This revolutionary harangue was supported 
 by the authors of the movement in the assembly. 
 Gaudet, a jiopular leader of the Gironde, ex- 
 claimed, " Who will dare now to renew the 
 bloody scene, when, at the close of the Constit- 
 uent Assembly, thousands of our fellow-citizens 
 v>ere slaughtered in the Champ de Mars, around 
 the altar of France, where they were renewing 
 the most sacred of oaths'? If the people are vio- 
 lently alarmed, is it the part of their manda- 
 tories to refuse to hear themi Are not the 
 grievances we have just heard re-echoed from 
 one end of France to the other"? Is this the first 
 time that in Paris the conduct of the king, and 
 the perfidy of his councils, have excited the pub- 
 lic indignation 1 You have heard the petition- 
 ers express themselves with candour, but with 
 the firmness which becomes a free people."* It 
 was tlms that the Girondists encouraged the 
 populace in their attempts to intimidate their 
 government; before a year had expired, on the 
 same spot they fell a victim to the violence 
 which they now excited. 
 
 Overawed by the danger of their situation, the 
 assembly received the petition with indulgence, 
 and permitted the mob to defile before them. A 
 motley assemblage, now swelled to 30,000 per- 
 sons, men, women, and children, in the most 
 squalid attire, immediately passed through the 
 hall, uttering furious cries, and displaying se- 
 ditious banners. They were headed by San- 
 terre, and the Marquis de Saint Huruques, with 
 a drawn sabre in his hand. Immense tablets 
 were borne aloft, having inscribed on them the 
 Rights of Man; others carried banners, bearing 
 as inscriptions, "The Constitution, or Death!" 
 " Long live the Sans Culottes !" At the end of 
 one pike was placed a bleeding heart, with the 
 inscription around it, " The Heart of the Aris- 
 tocracy." Multitudes of men and women, sha- 
 king alternately pikes and olive branches above 
 their heads, danced round these frightful em- 
 blems, singing the revolutionary song of Ca Ira. 
 In tlie midst of these furies, dense columns of 
 insurgents defiled, bearing the more formidable 
 weapons of fusils, sabres, and daggers, raised 
 aloft on poles. The loud applause of the galler- 
 ies, the cries of the mob, the deathlike silence 
 of the assembly, who trembled at tlie sight of the 
 
 of Rights. The petition declared, " The people auxiliaries they had invoked, formed a scene 
 
 are ready; they are fully prepared to have re 
 course to any measures to put in force the sec- 
 ond article of the Rights ot Man — resistance to 
 oppre-ssion. Let the small minority of your body 
 who do not participate in their sentiments, deliv- 
 er the earth from their presence, and retire to 
 Coblentz. Examine the causes of our suffer- 
 ings : If they flow from the royal authority, let 
 it be annihilated. The executive power," it con- 
 cluded, " is at variance with you. We desire 
 no other proof than the dismissal of the popular 
 ministers. Does the happiness of the people, 
 then, depend on the caprice of the sovereign"? 
 Should that sovereign have any other law than 
 the will of the people 1 The people are deter- 
 mined, and their pleasure outweighs the wishes 
 of crowned heads. They are the oak of the for- 
 est ; the royal sapling must bend beneath its 
 branches. We complain of the inactivity of our 
 armies ; we call upon you to investigate its 
 causes ; if it arises from the executive power, 
 see that it be instantly annihilated. "§ 
 
 * Lac, i., 240. Mig-., i., 175. Th.,ii., llfi. 
 
 t Dumont, 388. t Mig., i., 175. Th., ii., 124. 
 
 « Mig., i., 176. 
 
 which exceeds all description. The passage of 
 the procession lasted three hours. After leaving 
 the assembly, they proceeded in a tumultuous 
 mass to the palace. t 
 
 The outer gates were left open by order of 
 the king. The multitude immediately ^j^j, palace 
 broke into the gardens, ascended the mvaded by- 
 staircase, and entered the royal apart- the multi- 
 ments. Louis appeared before them '"'^'^• 
 with a few attendants. Those in front, over- 
 awed by the dignity of his presence, made an in- 
 voluntary pause, but, pressed on by the crowd 
 beliind, soon surrounded the monarch. With 
 diificulty his attendants got him withdrawn into 
 the embrasure of a window, while the crowd 
 rolled on through the other rooms of the palace. 
 Seated on a chair, which was elevated on a ta- 
 ble, and surrounded by a few faithful National 
 Guards, who kept off" the most unruly of the 
 populace, he preserved a serene and undaunted 
 countenance in the midst of dangers which 
 every instant threatened his life. Never did he 
 
 * JLa.c. i. 242. 
 
 t Lac.', i.', 243. Mig., i., 177. Th., ii., 133, 135. 
 
124 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 appear more truly great than on that tiying oc- 
 casion. To the reiterated demand that he should 
 instantly ratify the decrees against the priests, 
 and sanction the establishment of a camp near 
 Paris, he constantly replied, " This is neither 
 the time nor the way to obtain it of me." A 
 drunken workman handed him the red cap of 
 liberty;* with a mild aspect he put the revolu- 
 tionary emblem on the head on which a diadem 
 was wont to rest. Another presented him with 
 a cup of water : though he had long suspected 
 poison, he drank it off in the midst of applauses 
 involuntaiily extorted from the multitude. 
 
 Informed of the danger of the king, a deputa- 
 tion of the assembly, headed by Vergniaud and 
 Isnard, repaired to the palace. With diiiiculty 
 they penetrated through the crowds which filled 
 its apartments, and found the king seated in the 
 same place, unshaken in courage, but almost 
 exhausted by fatigue. One of the National 
 Guard approached him to assure him of his de- 
 votion. "Feel," said he, placing his hand on 
 his bosom, "whether this is the beating of a 
 heart agitated by fear !" Vergniaud, however, 
 was not without disquietude from the menaces 
 which he had heard in the remoter parts of 
 the crowd. At length he succeeded in obtaining 
 a hearing, and persuaded the people to depart. 
 He was seconded by Petion, and the mob gradu- 
 ally withdrew. By eight o'clock in the evening 
 they had all withdi'awn, and silence and aston- 
 ishment reigned in the palace.t 
 
 During the terrors of this agitating day, the 
 queen and the princesses displayed the most he- 
 roic presence of mind. As they were retiring 
 before the furious multitude, the Princess Eliza- 
 beth was mistaken for the queen, and loaded 
 with maledictions. She forbade her attendants 
 to explain the mistake, happy to draw upon her- 
 self the perils and opprobrium of her august 
 relative. Santerre shortly after approached and 
 assured her she had nothing to fear; that the 
 people were come to warn, but not to strike. t 
 He handed her a red cap, which she put on the 
 head of the dauphin. The Princess Royal, a 
 few years older, was weepmg at the side of the 
 queen; but the infant, with the imiocence of 
 childhood, smiled at the scene by which he was 
 surrounded. 
 
 A young officer, with his college companion, 
 First ap- was a witness from the gaidens of the 
 pearanceof Tuileries of this disgraceful scene. 
 Napoleon, jje expressed great regret at the con- 
 duct of the populace, and the imbecility of the 
 ministry; but when the king appeared at the 
 window with the cap of liberty on his head, he 
 could no longer restrain his indignation. " The 
 wretches !" he exclaimed ; " they should cut 
 down the first five hundred with grape-shot, and 
 the remainder would soon take to flight." He 
 lived to put his principles in practice on the 
 same spot ; his name will never be forgotten : it 
 was Napoleon Bonaparte. § 
 
 The events of the 20th of June excited the ut- 
 Indio-nation most indignation throughout Prance, 
 of France at The violence of their proceedings, 
 this event, the violation of their assembly, of 
 the royal residence, the illegality of a petition, 
 supported by a tumultuous and disorderly rab- 
 ble, were made the object of warm reproaches to 
 the popular party. The Duke de la Rochefou- 
 
 * Lac, i., 244. Mig., i., 178. Th., ii., 138, 139, 140. 
 
 + Mig., i., 178. Lac, i., 244. Th., li., 141, 142. 
 
 4 Mi?., i., 178. Lac, i., 244. Th., ii., 140, 141. 
 i Bour., i., 73. 
 
 cault, who commanded at Rouen, offered the 
 king an asylum in the midst of his army; La 
 Fayette lu-ged him to proceed to Compeigne, 
 and tlirow himself into the anns of the Constitu- 
 tional forces ; the National Guard offered to form 
 a coi-ps to defend his person ; but Louis declined 
 all these offers. He hoped for deliverance from 
 the allied powers, and was imwilling to compro- 
 mise himself by openly joining the Constitutional 
 paity. The Girondists never recovered the fail- 
 ure of this insurrection. They lost the support 
 of the one party by having attempted, of the 
 other by having failed in it.* 
 
 A petition signed by twenty thousand respecta- 
 ble persons in Paris was soon after presented to 
 the assembly, praying them to punish the au- 
 thors of the late disorders ; but such was the 
 terror of that body, that they wer^ incapable of 
 taking any decisive steps. The conduct of the 
 king excited general admiration : The remarka- 
 ble coolness in danger which he had e\nnced ex- 
 torted the applause even of his enemies, and the 
 unhappy irresolution of his earlier years was 
 forgotten in the intrepidity of his present de- 
 meanour. Had he possessed vigour enough to 
 avail himself of the powerful reaction in his fa- 
 vour which these events excited, he might still 
 have arrested the Revolution; but his was the 
 passive courage which could endure, not the 
 active spirit fitted to prevent danger.t 
 
 La Fayette made a last effort to raise from 
 the dust the constitutional throne : j^^p 28, 1792. 
 Having provided for the command La Fayette ar- 
 of the army, and obtained addresses "^'<=s ^' I'ans. 
 from the soldiers against the recent excesses, he 
 set out for Paris, and presented himself, on the 
 28th June, unexpectedly at the bar of the assem- 
 bly. He demanded, in the name of his troops 
 and of himself, that the authors of the revolt 
 should be punished; that vigorous measures 
 should be taken to destroy the Jacobin sect. His 
 speech was loudly applauded by the Royalists, 
 and excited the utmost dismay in the Revolu- 
 tionary parly. They dreaded the promptitude 
 and vigour of their adversary in the Champ de 
 Mars. A feeble majority was obtained by the 
 Constitiuional party in the assembly, upon a mo- 
 tion to inquire into and punish the authors of 
 the late disorders. Encouraged by this success, 
 slight as it Avas, the general next presented him- 
 self to the court. He was coolly received by tiie 
 king, and with difficulty succeeded in obtaining 
 a review of the National Guard. The leaders, 
 of the Royalists anxiously inquired at the palace 
 what course they should adopt in this emergen- 
 cy. Both the king and the queen answered that 
 they could place no confidence in La Fayette.j 
 He next applied, with a few supporters, who 
 were resolved to uphold the crown in spite of it- 
 self, to the National Guard ; but the influence of 
 the general with that body was gone. He was 
 received in silence by all the battalions who had 
 so recently worshipped his footsteps, and retired 
 to his hotel despairing of the constitutional cau.se. 
 Determined, however, not to abandon his enter- 
 prise without a struggle, he appointed a rendez- 
 vous in the evening, at his own house, of the 
 most zealous of the troops, from whence his de- 
 sign was to march against the Jacobin Club and 
 close its sittings. Hardly thirty men appeared, 
 and irresolution and uncertainty were painted in 
 every countenance. In des pair at the apathy of 
 
 * Lac, i., 246. Mig., i., 178. Th., ii., 144. 
 
 t Dumont, 353. Jom., ii., 53. Th.. ii., 148, 149. 
 
 t Madame Campau, ii., 224. Th., ii., 154, 155. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY' OF EUROPE. 
 
 125 
 
 the public mind, La Fayette, after remaining a 
 few days in Paris, set off alone, and returned to 
 the army, after having incurred the disgrace, 
 with one party, of endeavouring to control the 
 Revolution ; with the other, of having failed in 
 the attempt. He was burned in effigy by the Jac- 
 obins in the Palais Royal, so recently the scene 
 of his civic triumphs.* 
 
 This was the last struggle of the Constitution- 
 alists ; thenceforward they never were heard of 
 in the Revolution, except when their adherents 
 were conducted to the scaffold. Their failure 
 was the more remarkable, because not a year be- 
 fore they had acquired an absolute ascendant in 
 Paris, and defeated an insurrection of the popu- 
 lace in a period of the highest public excitement. 
 In such convulsions, more, perhaps, than in any 
 other situation of lile, it may truly be said that 
 there is a tide in the affairs of men. The mo- 
 ment of success, if not seized, is lost forever ; 
 new passions succeed ; new interests are awaken- 
 ed ; and the leader of a nation at one period often 
 finds himself, within a few months, as powerless 
 as the humblest individual.t 
 
 The Girondists and Republicans, imboldened 
 The Giron- ^^ '^^ failure of La Fayette's attempt, 
 (lists opeiiiy now Openly aimed at the dethrone- 
 aim at over- ment of the king. Vergniaud, in a 
 turning the powerful discourse, portrayed the dan- 
 gei-s which threatened the country. 
 He quoted the article of the Constitution, which 
 declared, "that if the king put himself at the 
 head of an armed force against the nation, or did 
 not oppose a similar enterprise attempted in his 
 name, he should be held to have abdicated the 
 throne." " Oh, king !" he continued, " who 
 doubtless thought, with the tyrant Lvsander, that 
 truth is not moi? imperishable than falsehood, 
 and that we amus" the people with oaths as we 
 amuse children with toys ; who leigned only to 
 regard the laws in order to preserve an authority 
 which might enable ytu to brave them ; do vou 
 suppose that we are any longer to be deceived 
 by your hypocritical protestations? Was it to 
 defend us that you opposed to the enemy's sol- 
 diers forces whose inferiority rendered their de- 
 feat inevitable 1 Was it to defend us that you 
 suffered a general to escape w*4o had violated 
 the Constitution'? Did the law give 5'ou the 
 choice of your ministers for our happiness or 
 our misery 1 of 3'our generals for our glory or 
 our shame 1 the right of sanctioning tlie laws, 
 the civil list, and so many prerogatives, to de- 
 stroy the Constitution of the Empire 1 No ! One 
 whom the generosity of the French could not af- 
 fect, whom the love of despotism alone could in- 
 fluence, has obviously no regard for the Consti- 
 tution which he has so basely violated, for the 
 Seople whom he has wantonly betrayed." "The 
 anger which threatens us," saidBrissot, "is 
 the most extraordinary which has yet appeared 
 in the world. Our countiy is in peril, not be- 
 cause it wants defenders, not because its soldiers 
 arc destitute of courage, not because its frontiers 
 are unfortified, its resources defective, but be- 
 cause a hidden cause paral3-zes all its powers. 
 Who is it that does sol A single man. He 
 whom the Constitution has declared its chief, 
 and treachery has made its enemy. You are 
 told to fear the King of Bohemia and Hungary : 
 I tell you tliat the real strength of the kings is at 
 the Tuileries, and that it is there you must strike 
 
 * Lac, 249. 250. Mig., i., 179, 180. Th., ii., 151, 155. 
 t Mig., i., ISO. 
 
 to subdue them. You are told to strike the re- 
 fractory priests wherever they are found in the 
 kingdom : I tell you to strike at the court, and 
 you will annihilate the whole priesthood at a 
 single blow. You are told to strike the factious, 
 the intriguers : I tell you, aim your blow at the 
 royal cabinet, and there you will extinguish in- 
 trigue in the centre of its ramifications. This is 
 the secret of our position; there is the source of 
 our evils ; there is the point where a remedy is 
 to be applied."* 
 
 While the minds of men were wound up to the 
 highest pitch by these inflammatory country 
 harangues, the committees, to whom declared in 
 it had been remitted to report on the ti^nger. 
 state of the country, published the solemn dec- 
 laration: "Citizens, the country is in danger!" 
 Minute guns announced to the inhabitants of the 
 capital the solemn appeal, which called on every 
 one to lay down his life on behalf of the state. 
 The enthusiasm of the moment was such, that 
 fifteen thousand volunteers enrolled themselves 
 in Paris in a single day. Immediately all the 
 civil authorities declared their sitting per- . „ 
 manent; all the citizens, not already in ""® ' 
 the National Guard, were put in requisition; 
 pikes distributed to all those not possessed of 
 firelocks; battalions of volunteers formed in the 
 public squares ; and standards displayed in con- 
 spicuous situations, with the words, "Citizens, 
 the countiy is in danger!" These measures, 
 which the threatening aspect of public affiairs 
 rendered indispensable, excited the revolutionary 
 ardour to the utmost degree. A universal phrensy 
 seized the public mind. So far did this patriotic 
 vehemence carry tliem, tliat many departments 
 openly defied the authority of government, and, 
 without any orders, sent their contingents to form 
 the camp of twenty thousand men near Paris. 
 This was the commencement of the revolt which 
 overturned the throne. + 
 
 The approach of a crisis became e\adent on 
 the 14th of July, when a liete was held 
 in commemoration of the taking of the ^f Jyiy 
 Bastile. Petion was the object of the 
 public idolatry. He had been suspended Irom 
 his office of mayor by the Department of Paris, 
 in consequence of his supineness during the tu- 
 mult on the 2()th of June, but the decree was re- 
 versed by the National Assembly. His name 
 was inscribed on a thousand banners ; on all 
 sides the cr}^ was heard, "Petion or death!" 
 The king M'ent in procession from the palace to 
 the altar in the Champ de Mars ; but how dif- 
 ferent was his reception from that which he had 
 experienced two years before on the same occa- 
 sion ! Pensive and melancholy, he marched 
 with the queen and the dauphin through a single 
 file of soldiers, who could with difficulty keep 
 back the intmsion, and were wholly unable to 
 prevent the maledictions of the mob. Innumer- 
 able voices reproached him with his perfidious 
 flight ; the intrepid aspect of the Swiss Guard 
 alone protected him from actual violence.} He 
 returned to the palace in the deepest dejectioa, 
 and was not again seen in public till he ascend- 
 ed the scaflbld. 
 
 The declaration by the assembly that _ the 
 country was in danger, procured a prodigioQS 
 accession of power "to tlie Revolutionary par- 
 ty. On the 14th of July, when the ISte ottha 
 confederation was held, the persons who bud br- 
 
 * Mig., i., 182. t Mig., i.. 183. Th., ii., 159. 1C3, 
 t Mig., i., 186. Lac, i., 254. Kc Sti*!, :•.., 54. 
 
126 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 lived in the capital from the provinces did not 
 exceed two thousand, but their numbers daily 
 and rapidly increased. The solemn announce- 
 ment put all France in motion. Multitudes of 
 ardent young men hourly arrived from the prov- 
 inces, all filled with the most vehement revolu- 
 tionary excitation, who added to the already ap- 
 E ailing fermentation of the capital. The assem- 
 ly, with culpable weakness, gave them the ex- 
 clusive use of its galleries, where they soon ac- 
 quired the entire command of its deliberations. 
 They were all paid thirty sous a day from the 
 public treasury, and formed into a club, which 
 soon surpassed in democratic violence the far- 
 famed meetings of the Jacobins. The determi- 
 nation to overturn the throne was openly an- 
 nounced by these ferocious bands ; and some of 
 the French Guards were incorporated by the as- 
 sembly with their ranks, from whose discipline 
 and experience they soon acquired the elements 
 of military organization.* 
 
 Meanwhile measures were openly taken 
 which were best calculated to ensure the suc- 
 cess of the revolt. The attacks on La Fayette 
 were multiplied ; he was denounced at the clubs, 
 and became the object of popular execration. 
 The war-party was everj'where predominant. 
 The whole jealousy of the assembly was direct- 
 ed against the court, from whom, aided by the 
 allies, they expected a speedy punishment for 
 their innumerable acts of treason. By their or- 
 ders, such battalions of the National Guard as 
 were suspected of a leaning towards the court, 
 especially the grenadiers of tlie quarter of St 
 Thomas, were jealously watched ; the club of 
 the Feuillants was clttsed ; the grenadiers and 
 chasseurs of the National Guard, who constitu- 
 ted the strength of the burgher force, were dis- 
 banded, and the troops of the line and Swiss 
 Guard removed to a distance from Paris.t 
 
 The chiefs of the revolt met at Charenton, but 
 none could be brought to accept the perilous du- 
 ties of leading the attack. Robespieire spoke 
 with alarm of the dangers which attended it ; 
 Danton, Collot d'Herbois, Billaud Varennes, 
 and the other leaders of the popular party, pro- 
 fessed themselves willing to second, but not fit- 
 ted to head the enterprise. At length Danton 
 presented Westerman ; a man of undaunted cour- 
 age and savage character, who subsequently sig- 
 nalized himself in the war of La Vendee, and 
 ultimately perished on the scaffold. t 
 
 The court, amid the general dissolution of 
 their authority, had no hope but in the approach 
 of the allied armies. The queen was possessed 
 of their proposed line of march; she knew when 
 they were expected at Verdun and the interve- 
 ning towns : the imhappy princess expected to 
 be delivered in a month. All the measures of 
 the court were taken to gain time for their ap- 
 proach. In the mean w hile, the royal family la- 
 boured under such apprehensions of being poi- 
 soned, that they ate and drank nothing but what 
 was secretly prepared by one of the ladies of the 
 bedchamber, and privately brought by Madame 
 Campan, after the viands prepared by the cook 
 had been placed on the table. Great numbers 
 of the Royalists, with faithful devotion, daily re- 
 paired to the Tuileries to ofl'cr their lives to their 
 sovereign amid the perils which were evidently 
 approaching; but, though their motives command 
 respect, the diversity of their counsels added to 
 
 * Th., ii., 192, 193. 
 
 t Ml? , i., I'SS Lac, i., 255. Th., ii., 193. 
 
 J Lac., i., 261. 
 
 the natural irresolution of his character. Some 
 
 were for transporting him to Compeigne, and 
 thence, by the Forest of Ardennes, to the banks 
 of the Rhine ; others, among whom was La 
 
 Fayette, besought him to seek an asylum with 
 the armies ; while Malesherbes strongly coun- 
 selled his abdication as the only chance of safe- 
 ty. In the midst of such distracting counsels, 
 and in the presence of such evident dangers, 
 nothing was done. A secret flight was resolved 
 on one day, and promised every chance of suc- 
 cess ; but, after reflecting on it lor the night, the 
 king determined to abandon that project, lest it 
 should be deemed equivalent to a declaration of 
 civil war. Royalist committees were formed, 
 and every effort made to arrest the progress of 
 the insurrection, but all in vain: the court found 
 itself supported by a few thousand resolute gen- 
 tlemen, who were willing to lay down their lives 
 in its defence, but could not, amid revolutionary 
 millions, acquire the organization requisite to 
 ensure its safety.* 
 
 The conspiracy, which was originally fixed 
 for the 4th of August, misgave more ... 
 than once, from the people not being and'procia- 
 deemed by the leaders in a sufficient mation of 
 state of excitement to ensure the sue- ^^<^ Duke oi 
 cess of the enterprise. But this de- l^''""s^^"=''- 
 feet was soon removed by the progress and in- 
 judicious conduct of the allied troops. The 
 Duke of Brunswick broke up from CoWentz on 
 the "iSth of July, and advanced at the head of 
 seventy thousand Prussians, and sixty-eight thou- 
 sand Austrians and Hessians, into the French 
 territory. His entrj' was preceded bv a procla- 
 mation, in which he reproached '■ those who 
 had usurped the reins of government in France 
 with having troubled the socia^' order, and over- 
 turned the legitimate government ; with having 
 committed daily outrages on the king and queen ; 
 with having, in an arbitrajy manner, invaded the 
 rights of the German princes in Alsace and Lor- 
 raine, and declared war unnecessarily against the 
 King of Hungary anr' Bohemia." He proclaim- 
 ed, in consequence " that the allied sovereigns 
 had taken up arns to stop the anarchy which 
 prevailed in France, to check the dangers which 
 threatened the (."irone and the altar, to give liber- 
 ty to the king, and restore him to the legitimate 
 authority of which he had been deprived, but 
 without any intention whatever of individual 
 aggrandizement; that the National Guards would 
 be held responsible for the maintenance of or- 
 der till the arrival of the allied forces, and that 
 those who dared to resist must expect all the rig- 
 our of military execution. Finally, he warned 
 the National Assembly, the municipality, and 
 city of Paris, that if they did not forthwith liber- 
 ate the king and return to their allegiance, they 
 should be held personally responsible, and an- 
 swer with their heads for their disobedience ; 
 and that, if the palace were forced, or the slight- 
 est insult offered to the royal family, an exem- 
 plaiy and memorable punishment should be in- 
 flicted, by the total destruction of the city of 
 Paris. "t 
 
 Had this manifesto been couched in more mod- 
 erate language, and followed up by a rapid and 
 energetic military movement, it might have had 
 the desired effect ; the passion for power been 
 supplanted in the excited multitude by that of 
 fear; the insurrection crushed, like the subsequent 
 
 * Bert, de Molleville, viii., 284, 300. Th., ii , 209, 213 
 Camp., ii., 125, 18S, 230. t Mig-., i., 186. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 127 
 
 ones of Spain and Poland, before it had acquired 
 the consistency of militaiy power, and the throne 
 of Louis, for a time at least, re-established. But 
 coming, as it did, in a moment of extreme public 
 e.xcitation ; and enforced, as it was, by the niost 
 feeble and inefficient military measures, it con- 
 tributed in a signal manner to accelerate the 
 march of the Revolution, and was the immediate 
 cause of the downfall of the throne. The leaders 
 of the Jacobins had no longer any reason to com- 
 plain of the want of enthusiasm in the ijeople. 
 A unanimous spirit of resistance burst ibrtli in 
 every part ol' France; the militarj' preparations 
 were redoubled, the ardour of the multitude was 
 raised to the highest pitch. The manifesto of 
 the allied powers was regarded as unfolding the 
 real designs of the court and the emigrants. Re- 
 volt against the throne appeared the only mode 
 of maintaining their liberties; the people of Paris 
 had no choice between victon,' and death. It is 
 painful to think that the king .so soon became the 
 victim, in a great measure, of the apprehension 
 excited by the language of the allies, which dif- 
 fered so widely from what he had so wisely rec- 
 ommended. Even in the midst of his appre- 
 hensions, however, he never lost his warm love 
 to his people : " How soon," he often exclaimed, 
 " would all these chagrins be forgotten, in the 
 slightest return of their affection !"♦ 
 
 The leaders of the difierent parties strove to 
 convert this effervescence into the means of ad- 
 vancing their separate ambitious designs. The 
 Girondists were desirous of having the king de- 
 throned by a decree of the assembly, because, as 
 they had acquired the majority in that body, that 
 would have been equivalent to vesting supreme 
 dominion in themselves ; but this by no means 
 answered the views of the popular demagogues, 
 who were as jealous of the assembly as of the 
 crown, and aimed at oveithrowing, at one blow, 
 the legislature and the throne. Danton, Robes- 
 pierre, Marat, Camille Desmoulins, Fabre d'Eg- 
 lantine, and their associates, were the leadei-s of 
 the popular insurrection, which was intended not 
 only to destroy the king, but establish the multi- 
 tude. The seeds of division, therefore, between 
 the Girondists and the Jacobins, were sown from 
 the moment that they combined together to over- 
 turn the monarchy ; the first sought to establish 
 the middling class and the assembly on the ruins 
 of the throne; the last to elevate the multitude 
 by the destruction of both.t 
 
 The arrival of the federal troops from Mar- 
 August 3. seilles, in the beginning of August, 
 Prepara- augmented the strength and confidence 
 tions for of the insurgents. On the 3d, the see- 
 the revolt. tJQjjs \vere extremely agitated, and that 
 of Mauconsiel declared itself in a state of insur- 
 rection. The dethronement of the king was 
 discussed with vehemence in all the popular 
 clubs; and Petion, with a formidable deputation, 
 appeared at the bar of the assembly, and de- 
 manded it in the name of the municipality 
 and the sections. That body remitted the peti- 
 tion to a committee to report. On the 8th, a 
 stormy discussion arose on the proposed accusa- 
 tion of La Fayette ; but the Constitutionalists 
 threw it out by a majority of 40G to 224 — so 
 strongly confirmed was the majority in the legis- 
 lature, on the very eve of a convulsion destined 
 to overthrow both them and the throne ! The 
 clubs and the populace were to the last degree 
 
 * Mig , i., 186. Toul., ii., 220. Th., ii., 230. 
 t Mig., i., 1S7. Toul., ii., 21. 
 
 irritated at the acquittal of their former idol; all 
 those who had voted with the majority were in- 
 sulted as they left the hall; and the streets re- 
 sounded with cries against the a.ssembly which 
 had acquitted "the traitor, La Fayette !"* 
 
 On the 9th, the etlervescence was extreme - 
 the Constitutionalists complained of the insults 
 to which they had been exposed on leaving the 
 hall on the preceding day, and insisted that the 
 Marseillois troops should be sent to the camp at 
 fcoissons. While the discussion on the subject 
 was going forward, it was announced to the as- 
 sembly that one of the sections had declared that 
 if the dethronement was not pronounced on that 
 day, they would sound the tocsin, and beat the 
 gcn-crale at midnight, and march against the pal- 
 ace. Forty-seven out of the forty-eight sections 
 of Paris had approved of this resolution. The 
 legislature required the authorities of the depart- 
 ments, and of the city of Paris, to maintain the 
 public tranquillity ; the first replied that they had 
 every inclination, but did not possess the power 
 to do so; Petion answered in the name of the 
 latter, that, as the sections had resumed their 
 powers, his functions were reduced to mere per- 
 suasion. The assembly separated without hav- 
 ing done anything to ward off the coming blow.t 
 
 At length, at midnight on the 9th of August, a 
 cannon was fired, the tocsin sounded, insurrection 
 and the gin6rale beat in every quarter of the lOtu 
 of Paris ; the insurgents immediately ofAug-ust. 
 began to assemble in great strength at their dif- 
 ferent rallying points. The survivers of the 
 bloody catastrophe which was about to com- 
 mence, have portrayed in the strongest colours 
 the horrors of that dreadful night, when the old- 
 est monarchy in Europe began to fall. The in- 
 cessant clang of the tocsin, the rolling of the 
 drums, the rattling of artillery and ammunition- 
 wagons along the streets, the cries of the in- 
 surgents, the march of columns, rung in their 
 ears for long after, and haunted their minds even 
 in moments of festivity and rejoicing.t The club 
 of the Jacobins, that of the Cordeliers, and the 
 section of Cluinze-Vingt, in the Faubourg St. 
 Antoine, were the three centres of the insurrec- 
 tion. The most formidable forces were assem- 
 bled at the club of the Cordeliers ; the Marseil- 
 lois troops were there, and the vigour of Danton 
 gave energy to all their proceedings : " It is time," 
 said he, " to appeal to the laws and legislators ; 
 the laws have made no provision for such of- 
 fences, the legislators are the accomplices of the 
 criminals. Already have they acquitted La Fay- 
 ette ; to absolve that traitor is to deliver us to 
 him, to the enemies of France, to the sanguinary 
 vengeance of the allied kings. This very night 
 the perfidious Louis has chosen to deliver to 
 carnage and conflagration the capital, which he 
 is prepared to quit in the moment of its ruin. To 
 arms ! to arms ! no other chance of escape is left 
 to us." The insurgents, and especially the 
 Marseillois, impatiently called for the signal to 
 march ; and the cannon of all the sections began 
 to roll towards the centre of the city.§ 
 
 The first step was to seize the Hotel de Villa, 
 dismiss the municipalit}^, and appoint a new 
 magistracy, chosen from the most violent among 
 the people. This was done almost without op- 
 position, so completely were all the authorities 
 paralyzed by terror of the impending danger. 
 
 * Toul., i., 224. Mig., i., 1S7. Th., ii., 237. 
 t Toul., ii.. 223. Mi?., i.. I8S. Th., ii., 238, 239. 
 X De Stuei. ii., 61. Th., ii., 214, 242. 
 f) Lac, i., 264. 
 
128 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. 
 
 Having gained this central point, their forces be- 
 gan to assemble in the Place de Grcve, cannon 
 arrived from all quarters, and the long columns 
 of spearmen were .seen to debouche from the 
 crowded quarters of the city. Paris was in the 
 most dreadful state of agitation ; but, in the midst 
 of the alarm, a great proportion of the National 
 Guard a.ssembled, and repaired to the Tuileries, 
 where a respectable force was now collected.* 
 Aware of their danger, the court had for some 
 
 days been making preparations to 
 Preparations - j j, threatened attack. Their 
 oi the court. . . , , . ^u c< ■ 
 
 prmcipal reliance was on the bwiss 
 
 Ouard, whose loyalty, always conspicuous, had 
 been wrought up to the highest pitch by the mis- 
 fortunes and liberality of the royal family. The 
 assembly had ordered them to be removed from 
 Paris, but the ministers, on various pretexts, had 
 contrived to delay the execution of the order, 
 though tliey had not ventured to bring to the de- 
 fence of the palace the half of the corps which 
 lay at Courbevoie. The number of tlie guard 
 actually in attendance was about 800. The 
 most faithful of the National Guard rapidly ar- 
 rived, and filled the court of the Tuileries ; the 
 grenadiers of the quarter of St. Thomas had been 
 at their post even before the signal of insurrec- 
 tion was given. Seven or eight hundred Royal- 
 ists, chiefly of noble families, filled the interior 
 of the palace, determined to share the dangers of 
 their sovereign ; but their presence rather inju- 
 red than promoted the preparations for defence. 
 A motley group, without any regular uniform, 
 variously anned with pistols, sabres, and fire- 
 locks, they were incapable of any useful organi- 
 zation; while their presence cooled the ardour 
 of the National Guard, by awakening their ill- 
 «xtinguished jealousy of the aristocratical party. 
 The heavy dragoons, on horseback, with several 
 pieces of artillery, were stationed in the gardens 
 and court, but in that formidable arm they were 
 deplorably inferior to the forces of the insurgents. 
 The forces on the royal side were numerous, but 
 little reliance could be placed on a great propor- 
 tion of them; and the gendarmerie a cheval, a 
 most important force in civil conflicts, soon gave 
 a fatal example of disaflection by deserting in a 
 body to the enemy .t This powerful corps was 
 ■chiefly composed of the former French Guards, 
 who had thus the infamy, twice in the same con- 
 vulsions, of betraying at once their sovereign and 
 their oaths. 
 
 At the first alarm the assembly met, and Ver- 
 gniaud took the chair. Their disposition to aid 
 the throne was undoubted; but the in.-.urrection 
 ofthe people had deprived them ofall their means 
 of giving it effectual support. Their first meas- 
 ure had the most disastrous consequences. Pe- 
 tion, mayor of Paris, was at the palace, where 
 he was giving an account of the state of the cap- 
 ital ; they sent for him to the bar of the assem- 
 bly, and ordered him to repair to his post at the 
 Hotel de Ville. He was no sooner arrived there, 
 than he suffered himself to be made prisoner by 
 the insurgent force which had overturned the mu- 
 nicipality; and without acquainting him with 
 the change which had taken place, ordered Man- 
 ■dat, the commander of the National Guards, to 
 repair to the Place de Greve. In obedience to 
 the civil authority, Mandat went tliere ; he Avas 
 immediately seized at the Hotel de Ville, and ac- 
 cused of haWng ordered his troops to fire upon 
 
 * Lac, i., 264, 2fi5. Tout., ii., 229. Wig., i., 189. 
 t Lac, i., 265, 266. Th., ii., 243. Mig-., i., 189. 
 
 the people. Perceiving, from the new faces 
 around him, that the magistracy was changed, 
 he turned pale; he was instantly sent under a 
 guard to the Abbey, but murdered by the popu- 
 lace on the very steps of the municipal palace.* 
 I'he new municipality lorthwitli gave ttie com- 
 mand of the National Guard to Santerre, the 
 leader of the insurgents.t 
 
 The death of Mandat was an irreparable loss 
 to the royal cause, as his influence was indispen- 
 sable to persuade the National Guard to fight, 
 already much shaken by the appearance oi' so 
 many Royalists among the defenders of the king. 
 At five in the morning the king visited the inte- 
 rior parts of the palace, accompanied by the 
 queen, the dauphin, and iVIadame Elizabeth. 
 The troops in the inside were animated with the 
 best spirit, and the hopes of the royal family be- 
 gan to revive ; but they were cruelly undeceived 
 on descending the staircase, and passing in re- 
 view the forces in the Place Carrousel and the 
 garden. Some battalions, particularly those of 
 the Filles de Saint Thomas and the Petits Peres, 
 received them with enthusiasm, but, in general, 
 they were silent and irresolute, and some, partic- 
 ularly the cannoniers and the battalion of Croix 
 Rouge, raised the cry of " Vive la Nation !" 
 Two regiments of pikemen, in defiling before the 
 king, openly shouted " Vive la Nation ! vive 
 Petion ! A bas le Veto, a bas le Traitre !" Over- 
 come by these ominous symptoms, the king re- 
 turned, pale and depressed, to the palace. The 
 queen displayed the ancient spirit of her race. 
 " Everj'thing which you hold mostdear," said she 
 to the grenadiers of the National Guard, " your 
 homes, your wives, your children, depends on 
 our existence. To-day our cause is that of the 
 people." These words, spoken with dignity, 
 roused the enthusiasm of the troops to the high- 
 est degree ; but they could only promise to sac- 
 rifice their lives in her defence; nothing an- 
 nounced the enthusiasm of victor}'. Though the 
 air of the king was serene, despair was fixed iu 
 his heart. He had no apprehensions for him- 
 self, and had refused to put on the shirt of mail 
 which the queen had formed to avert the stroke 
 of an assassin. " No," i-eplied he, " in the day 
 of battle the king should be clothed as the mean- 
 est of his followers." But he could not be pre- 
 vailed upon to seize the decisive moment. No- 
 thing is more certain than that, if he had charged 
 at the head of his followers, he would have dis- 
 persed the insurrection, and possibl}', even at the 
 eleventh hour, restored the throne.j 
 
 While irresolution and despondency prevailed 
 at the Tuileries, the energy of the insurgents was 
 hourly increasing. Early in the morning they 
 had forced the arsenal', and distributed arms 
 among the multitude. A column of the Fau- 
 bourg St. Antoine, composed of fifteen thousand 
 men, and that of the Faubourg St. Marceau, five 
 thousand strong, had marched towards tiie palace 
 at six in the morning, and were every moment 
 increasing on the road. A troop, placed by order 
 of the directory of the department on the Pont 
 Neuf, had been forced, and the communication 
 between the opposite banks of the river was open. 
 Soon after, the advanced guard of the insurrec- 
 tion, composed of the troops from Marseilles and 
 Britanny, had debouched by the Rue St. Honore, 
 and occupied the Place Carrousel, with their 
 cannon directed against the palace. Roederer, 
 
 * Mis., i., 190. 
 ; Tou!., 11., 23t 
 252, 253, 255. 
 
 t Ibid. Toul., ii., 233. Th., ii., 249. 
 Mig., i., 190. Lac, i., 267. Th., li., 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 129 
 
 in this emergency, petitioned tlic assembly for 
 authority to treat' with the insurgents, but they 
 paid no regard to his application. He next ap- 
 plied to the National Guard, and read to them 
 tlie articles of the Constitution, which enjoined 
 them, in case of attack, to repel force by Ibrce; 
 but a slender proportion of them only seemed 
 (."Us]3osed to support the throne, and the can- 
 noniers, instead of an answer, unloaded tiicir 
 pieces. Finding the jiopular cause everywhere 
 triumphant, he returned in dismay to the palace* 
 The king was there sitting in council with the 
 The kino- queen and his ministers. Rtrderer 
 leaves the immediately announcei? that the chui- 
 palace, and ger was extreme; tliKt the insurgents 
 joins the ^vould agree to no terms; that the Na- 
 
 and that llie destruction of (he royal family was 
 inevitable, if thev did not lake refuge in the bosom 
 cf the assemblv. "I tvould rather," said the 
 queen, " he nailed to 'he walls of the palace than 
 leave it!" and imnKdiately addressing the king, 
 and presenting to tun a pistol, exclaimed, "IS^ow, 
 sire, this is the moment to show yourself." The 
 king remainet' silent; he had the resignation of 
 a martyr, b!*t not the spirit of a hero. "Are 
 you prepar-d, madame," said Ro-derer, " to take 
 upon yourself the responsibility of the death of 
 the kins, of yourself, of your children, and of all 
 Avho sre here to defend you f These words de- 
 cidal Louis; he I'ose up, and addressing himself 
 Jo those around him, said, '-Gentlemen, nothing 
 remains to be done here." Accompanied by the 
 queen, the dauphin, and the ro3^al family, he de- 
 scended the stair, and crossed the garden, pro- 
 tected by the Swiss Guards, and the battalions 
 of the F'illes de St. Thoma ■ and the Petits Peres. 
 These faithful troops had the utmost difficulty in 
 getting them into the assembly in the adjoining 
 street, amid the menaces and execrations of the 
 multitude.t 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the king, on entering the 
 assembly, " I am come here to save the nation 
 from the commission of a great crime ; I shall 
 always consider myself, with my family, safe 
 in your hands." " Sire," replied the President 
 Vergniaud, " you may rely on the firmness of the 
 National Assembly ; its members have s\\'orn to 
 die in defence of the rights of the people and of 
 the constituted authorities; it will remain firm 
 at its post; we will die rather than abandon it." 
 In truth, the Girondists, having gained from the 
 insurrection their real object of humbling the 
 king, were now sincere in their wish to repress 
 the multitude ; a vain attempt, which only show- 
 ed their unfitness to guide during the stormy days 
 of a revolution.,: 
 
 Meanwhile the new mimicipality, organized 
 Desperate '^y Danton and Robespierre, was di- 
 fight in tlic reeling all the movements of the insur- 
 Place Car- rection. A formidable force occupied 
 rousel. ^Yie side of the Place Carrousel next 
 the Louvre, and numerous pieces of artillery 
 were pointed against the palace, whose defend- 
 ers were severely weakened by the detachment 
 of the Swiss Guard and the Royalist battalions 
 who had accompanied the kin?. The gendar- 
 merie, posted in front of the palace, had shame- 
 fully quitted their post, crying "Vive la Nation!" 
 the National Guard was so divided as to be in- 
 capable of action; the cannoniers had openly 
 joined the enem y ; but, Avith heroic firmness, the 
 
 ' Mig., i., 192. Lac, i., 267. Th., ii., 253. 
 
 t Mi?., i., 192. Lac, i., 267, 268. Th., ii., 25'1, 256. 
 
 I Mig., i., 19.3. Lac, i., 209. Th., ii.,257. 
 Vol. I.— R 
 
 Swiss Guard remained unshaken in resolution 
 amid the def(.-ction of all around them. The as- 
 sailants liaviiig endeavoured to penetrate into the 
 interior of the palace, a struggle commenced 
 and the Swiss troops, firing from the windows' 
 sjieedily drove back the foremost of their ene- 
 mies; immediately after, descending the stair- 
 case, and ranging themselves in battle array in the 
 court of the Carrousel, by a heavy ami sustained 
 lire they completed their defeat. The insur- 
 gents, late so audacious, fied in confusion as far 
 as the Pont Neuf, and many never stopped till 
 they had reached their homes in the faubourgs. 
 Three hundred horse, in that critical moment* 
 might have saved tlie monarchy. But the heroic 
 delenders of the palace, few in number, and des- 
 titute of cavalry, did not venture to follow up 
 their victoiy; the populace gradually regained 
 their courage when they perceived they were not 
 pursued, and a new attack, directed by Wester- 
 man, was prepared, under cover of a numerous 
 artillery. The Marseillois and Breton troops 
 returned in greater force ; the Swiss were mown 
 down with grape-shot, and their undaunted ranks 
 lell in the place Avhere they stood,* unconquered 
 even in death. In its last extremity, it was nei- 
 ther in its titled nobility nor its native annies that 
 the French throne found fidelity, but in the free- 
 born mountaineers of Lucerne, unstained by the 
 vices of a corrupted age, and firm in the sim- 
 plicity of rural life. 
 
 It was no longer a battle, but a massacre : the 
 enraged multitude broke into the pal- 
 ace, and put to death every one found Massacre of 
 within it ; the fugitives, pursued into '"^^' 
 
 the gardens of the Tuileries by the pikemen from 
 the faubourgs, were unmercifully put to death 
 under the trees, amid the fountains, and at the 
 feet of the statues. Some miserable wretches 
 climbed up the marble monuments which adorn 
 that splendid spot ; the insurgents abstained from 
 firing, lest they should injure the statuary, but 
 pricked them with their bayonets till they came 
 down, and then murdered them at their feet; an 
 instance of taste for art, mingled with revolu- 
 tionary cruelty, perhaps unparalleled in the his- 
 tory of the world.t During the whole evening 
 and night, the few survivers of the Swiss Guard 
 were sought out with unpitying ferocity by the 
 populace, and, wherever they were found, imme- 
 diately massacred ; hardly any escaped, and 
 those that did so owed their lives almost uni- 
 formly to the fidelity of female attachment.: 
 
 While these terrible scenes were going for- 
 ward, the assembly was in the most violent agi- 
 tation. At the first discharge of musketry, the 
 king declared that he had forbid the troops to 
 fire, and signed an order to the Swiss Guards to 
 stop the combat, but the officer who bore it was 
 massacred on the road. As the firing grew loud- 
 er, the consternation increased, and many depu- 
 ties rose to escape ; but others exclaimed, " No ! 
 this is our post." The people in the galleries 
 drowned the speakers by their cries,§ and soon 
 the loud shouts, " Victoire, victoire, les Suisses 
 sont vaincus !" announced that the fate of the 
 monarchy was decided. 
 
 The 10th of August was the last occasion on 
 which the means of saving France were placed 
 in the hands of the king ; but there can be little 
 
 * Mig., i., 194. Lac, i., 271, 273. Toul., ii., 252, 253. 
 Th , ii., 260, 261. ^ Scott's Paris Revisited, 291. 
 
 t Lac, i., 272, 273. Tout., ii., 253. 
 
 <) Tout., ii., 254. Lac, i., 272. Mig., i., 195. Th., ii.. 
 263. 
 
130 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V. . 
 
 doubt that, had he possessed a firmer character, 
 he might have accomplished tbe task. The 
 great bulk of the nation was disgusted with the 
 excesses of the Jacobins, and the outrages of the 
 20th of June had excited a universal teeliug of 
 horror. If he had acted with vigour on that trying 
 occasion, repelled force by force, and seized the 
 first moments of victory to proclaim as enemies I 
 the Jacobins and Girondists, who had a hundred I 
 times violated the Constitution, dissolved the as- 
 sembly, closed the clubs, and arrested the leaders 
 of the revolt, that day would have re-establish- 
 ed the royal authoritv. But that conscientious 
 prince never imagined that the salvation of his 
 kingdom was indissolubly comiected with his 
 private safety; and he preferred exposing him- 
 self to certain destruction, to the risk ot shedding 
 blood in the attempt to avert it.* 
 
 In the first tumult of alarm, the assembly pub- 
 lished a proclamation recommending 
 droned' moderation in the use of victory. A 
 ■ deputation from the municipality shortly 
 after appeared at the bar, demanding that their- 
 powers should be confirmed, and insisting for 
 the dethronement of the king, and the immediate 
 convocation of a National Convention. Other 
 deputations speedily followed, press- 
 Au|ust 10, -j^g jj^g ggj-j^g demands, and enforcing 
 ■ them with the language of conquer- 
 
 ors. Yielding to necessity, the assembly, on the 
 motion of Vergniaud, passed a decree suspend- 
 ing the king, dismissing the ministers, and di- 
 recting the immediate formation of a National 
 Convention. t 
 
 It is not at the commencement of revolutiona- 
 Reflect.ons U disturbances that the danger to so- 
 on the fall cial happiness is to be apprehended, 
 of the moil- but after the burst of popular fury is 
 aichy. oygj.^ and when the successful party 
 begin to suffer from the passions to which they 
 owed their elevation. The 10th of August did 
 not come till three j^ears after the 14th of July. 
 The reason is evident : In the first tumult of pa.s- 
 sion, and in the exultation of successful resist- 
 ance, the people are in good-humour both with 
 themselves and their leaders, and the new gov- 
 ernment is installed in its duties amid the ap- 
 plause and hopes of their fellow-citizens. But 
 after this ebullition of triumphant feeling is 
 over, come the sad and inevitable consequences 
 of public convulsions : disappointed hopes, ex- 
 aggerated expectations, industry without employ- 
 ment, capital without investment. The public 
 suffering which immediately follows the triumph 
 of the populace is invariably greater than that 
 which stimulated theii- resistance. The ablest 
 Republican writers confess that one half of the 
 misery which desolated France during the Revo- 
 lution would have overwhelmed the monarchy.; 
 This suffering is inevitable; it is the necessary 
 consequence of shaken credit, invaded property, 
 and uncontrolled licentiousness ; but coming, as 
 it does, in the train of splendid hopes and excited 
 imaginations, it occasions discontent and acri- 
 mony in the lower orders which can hardly fail 
 of producing fresh convulsions. The people are 
 never so ripe for a second revolution as shortly 
 after they have successfully achieved a first. 
 
 It is the middling ranks who organize the first 
 resistance to government, because it is their in- 
 fluence only which can withstand the shock of 
 established power. They, accordingly, are at the 
 
 * Dumont, 438. 
 
 t Mig., i., 195. Toul., ii., 250. 
 
 t UiS; i.. 127. 
 
 Th.,i., 263,264. 
 
 head of the first revolutionaiy movement. But 
 the passions which have been awakened, the 
 hopes that have been excited, the disorder which 
 has been produced in their struggle, lay the 
 foundation of a new and more terrible convul- 
 sion against the rule which they have establish- 
 ed. Every species of authority appears odious 
 to men who have tasted of the license and exci- 
 tailon of a revolution ; the new government speed- 
 ily becomes as unpopular as the one which has 
 been overthrown ; the ambition of the lower or- 
 ders aims at establishing themselves in the situ- 
 ation in which a successful ellbrt has placed the 
 middling. A more terrible struggle aw"aits them 
 than that which they have just concluded with 
 arbitrary power ; a struggle with superior num- 
 bers, stronger passions, more unbridled ambi- 
 tion ; with those whom moneyed fear has depri- 
 ved of employment, xevolutionary innovatioa 
 filled with hope, inexorable necessity impelled 
 to exertion. In this con*.est the chances are 
 against the duration of the ii°,w institutions, un- 
 less the supporters can immt^Uately command 
 the aid of a numerous and disciplined body of 
 men, proof alike to the intimidativm of popular 
 violence and the seduction of popuisir ambition. 
 
 Three great powers were brought '-nto collis- 
 ion in the French Revolution : the people, the 
 aristocracy, the allied sovereigns. Eadi com- 
 mitted capital errors, productive of the mcst ru- 
 inous consequences ; to their combined infiuence 
 the unexampled hoiTors which followed are ii^ a 
 great measure to be ascribed. 
 
 The first capital error of the people consisted 
 in the confiscationof the property of the Church. 
 This flagrant act of injustice produced conse- 
 quences the most disastrous, both upon the prog- 
 ress of the Revolution, and the direction of the 
 public mind. By alienating the atlections, and 
 inflaming the resentment of a numerous and 
 powerful body, it produced divisions Errors of the 
 in the popular party, and superadded popuhu: par- 
 to the miseries of civil, the rancour '}' '^ ^ lauce. 
 of religious strife. By arraying the cause of 
 freedom against that of religion, it separated the 
 two mighty powers which move mankind, and 
 whose combined strength had in former ages 
 established the fabric of civil liberty on the firm 
 basis of private virtue. By exciting the Ibrce 
 of public resentment against the Church, it cre- 
 ated a fatal schism between public activity and 
 private virtue ; sapped the foundations of domes- 
 tic happiness by introducing infidelity and doubt 
 into private life, and overwhelmed the land with 
 a flood of licentiousness by removing the coun- 
 terpoise created by religion to the three of the 
 passions. Ages must elapse, and possibly a 
 new revolution be undergone, before the license 
 given to the passions can be checked, or the gen- 
 eral dissolution of manners prevented.* These 
 consequences were as unnecessaiy as they are 
 deplorable. There was no necessity for the spo- 
 liation, because, if the exigencies of the exche- 
 quer required an immediate supply, it should have 
 been raised by a general contribution of all the 
 classes of the state, not made good by the de- 
 struction of one of them. There was no moder- 
 ation in the mode in which it was accomplish- 
 ed ; because, even supposing the measure una- 
 voidable, it should have been carried into effect 
 without injuring the rights of the present incum- 
 
 * Every third child in Paris is a bastard, aud a large pro- 
 portion of the poor die in hospitals. — DupiN, Force Com- 
 merciale, i., 40, 99. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 131 
 
 bents.* It ill became a people, insurgent against 
 the oppression of their government, to commence 
 their reign by an act of injustice greater than 
 anv of which they complained. 
 
 The next great fault of the Revolutionists con- 
 sisted in the confiscation of the property of the 
 noblesse, in pursuance of the cruel and unjust 
 decrees of the assembly, declaring their estates 
 forfeited if they did not return to France before a 
 certain day. Nothing could exceed the iniquity 
 of this measure, because the mere fact of leav- 
 ing the country' was neither a moral nor a politi- 
 cal offence ; and even if it had, to confiscate 
 their estates because they declined to return and 
 place their necks under the guillotine, was a meas- 
 ure of severity greater than any of which the 
 popular party complained, and which never dis- 
 graced the worst periods of feudal bondage. As 
 this measure was thus to the last degree unjust, 
 so it has produced effects from which France 
 never can recover, and which, it is much to be 
 feared, have rendered hopeless in that countr}' 
 the establishment of the regulated freedom of 
 modern Europe. General liberty in all classes, 
 it is now abundantly proved by experience, can 
 be maintained only by the combined and counter- 
 acting influence of an aristocracy supporting, 
 and a popular party restraining, the efforts of the 
 executive. To suppose that it can exist in a 
 country' such as France became after the de- 
 struction of the aristocracy, that is, when the 
 great bulk of the landed property was divided 
 among the peasantry, and no intermediate class 
 existed, except in towns, between the throne and 
 the cultivator, is out of the question. In such 
 circumstances there is no alternative but Ameri- 
 can equality or Asiatic despotism : it is not dif- 
 ficult to perceive in w"hich an old state, far ad- 
 vanced in the career of opulence, and surround- 
 ed by ambitious militaiy monarchies, must fmal- 
 ly terminate. 
 
 The event has abundantly proved the justice 
 of these views. Previous to the Revolution, the 
 provinces maintained a long and honourable 
 struggle with the crown for the national liberties, 
 and foremost in this contest were to be seen the 
 most illustrious of the aristocracy of France. 
 The parliaments, both of Paris and the provin- 
 ces, derived their chief lustre from the consider- 
 ation, character, and importance of their mem- 
 bers, and it was by their influence and example 
 that the whole nation was stimulated to the re- 
 sistance which ultimately led to the Revolution. 
 But since the destruction of the aristocracy, no- 
 thing of the kind has occurred. France has inva- 
 riably submitted without a struggle to che ruling 
 power in the capital, and whoever obtained the 
 ascendency in its councils, whether by the pas- 
 sions of the populace or the bayonets of the ar- 
 my, has ruled with despotic authorit}-- over the 
 remainder of the kingdom. The bones and sin- 
 ews of freedom were broken when the aristoc- 
 racy was destroyed : Louis XV. and his ill-fated 
 successor fotmd it impossible to control the inde- 
 pendent spirit of the provincial parliaments, but 
 Napoleon had no more obsequious instruments 
 of his will than in the Consen^ative Senate. The 
 passions of the multitude, strong and often ir- 
 resistible in moments of effervescence, cannot be 
 relied on as permanent supporters of the cause 
 of freedom ; it is an hereditary aristocracy, sup- 
 ported, when necessary, by their aid, which alone 
 can be depended upon in such a contest, because 
 they only possess lasting interests which are lia- 
 * Madame de StaO), Rev. FraiK;., li., 94. 
 
 ble to be affected by the efforts of tyranny, and 
 are influenced by motives not likely "to disappear 
 with the fleeting changes of popular opinion. 
 Had the English Puritans destroyed the landed 
 proprietors of 1642, a hundred and forty years of 
 liberty and glory would never have followed the 
 Revolution of 1G88. It was not Napoleon who 
 destroyed the elements of freedom in France : he 
 found them extinguished to his hand — he only 
 needed to seize the reins so strongly bitted on the 
 nation by his revolutionary predecessors. There 
 never was such a pioneer for tyranny as the Na- 
 tional Assembly. 
 
 The fault of the aristocracy consisted in leav- 
 ing their country in the period of its 
 greatest agitation, and their sovereign ^"n'obles 
 in his extremest peril, to invoke the 
 hazardous aid of foreign powers. Such a pro- 
 ceeding is always both criminal and dangerous ; 
 criminal, because it is a base desertion of the 
 first social duties ; dangerous, becau.se success 
 with such assistance produces perils as great as 
 defeat. By striving to raise a crusade against 
 French liberty, they put themselves in the pre- 
 dicament of having as much to fear from victory 
 as defeat ; the first endangered the national inde- 
 pendence, the last threatened the power and pos- 
 sessions of their order. The French nobility 
 never recovered the disgrace of having deserted 
 to the ranks of the enemy, and appeared foremost 
 in the battalions of those who, it was thought, 
 came to subdue their country. The Jacobins 
 have to thank their adversaries for having put 
 into their hands the most powerful of all the en- 
 gines by which they worked on the public mind ; 
 that of representing the aristocrats as the ene- 
 mies of France, and the cause of democracy as 
 the same as that of national independence. 
 When we consider the powerful effects which a 
 small body of disciplined men produced on the 
 Champ de Mars under La Fayette, and on the 
 Place Carrousel on the lOth of August, it is pain- 
 ful to reflect on the stand which might have 
 been made against popular violence by a small 
 portion of that vast army of emigrants, who first 
 occasioned the Revolution by their insolence, and 
 then betraved their sovereign by their desertion. 
 
 The eiTor of the allied sovereigns, and it was 
 one fraught with the most disastrous 
 consequences, consisted in attacking t^^^allies 
 France at the period of its highest ex- 
 citation, and thereby converting revolutionary 
 phrensy into patriotic resistance, without follow- 
 ing it up with such vigour as to crush the spirit 
 which was thus awakened. France was begin- 
 ning to be divided by the progress of the Revolu- 
 tion, when foreign invasion united it. The cruel 
 injustice of the Constituent Assembly to the 
 priests had roused the terrible war in La Ven- 
 dee, when the dread of foreign invasion for a 
 time united the most discordant interests. The 
 catastrophe of the lOth of August was in some 
 degree owing to the imprudent advance and ru- 
 inous retreat of the Pnissian army; the friends 
 of order at Paris were paralyzed by the danger 
 of the national independence ; the supporters of 
 the throne, ashamed of a cause which seemed 
 leagued with the public enemies. Mr. Eurke 
 had prophesied that France would be divided 
 into a number of federal republics; this perhaps 
 would have happened but for the foreign inva- 
 sion which soon after took place. The imity of 
 the Republic, the triumphs of the Consulate," the 
 conquests of the Empire, were accelerated by the 
 ill-supported attacks of the allies. 
 
132 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. V, 
 
 France, like every other revolulionar}' power, 
 indeed, would ultimatel}' have been driven into 
 a system of Ibreign aggression, in order to find 
 employment I'or the energy which the public 
 convulsions had developed, and food for the mis- 
 ery which they had created; but it is extremely 
 doubtful whether lioin tliis source ever could 
 have arisen the same union of feeling and mili- 
 tary power which sprung up after the defeated 
 invasion of the allies in 17'J::3. In combating a 
 revolution, one of two things must be done : ei- 
 ther it must be lell to waste itself by its own di- 
 visions, which, if practicable, is the wiser course, 
 or attacked with such vigour and such a force 
 as may speedily lead to its subjugation. 
 
 It is a total mistake to suppose that the Rev- 
 olution in France was imavoidable, or that the 
 transition cannot be made from a state of despo- 
 tism to one of comparative freedom without go- 
 ing through so terrible a convulsion. It would 
 be just as rational to suppose that a river can- 
 not descend from a higher to a lower level with- 
 out being precipitated down a cataract, instead 
 of flowing in a gentle descent. Changes as great 
 as resulted in France from the Revolution have 
 been gradually induced in many other coimtries 
 without producing such a catastrophe. The 
 guilt of some of the parties during its progress, 
 the weakness of others, are alone chargeable with 
 its horrors. Its progress, like that of guilt in the 
 individual, did not become finally fixed to evil 
 till irreparable injustice had been committed, 
 and many opportunities of amendment thrown 
 away. And if there is any one cause more than 
 another to which these disasters may justly be 
 ascribed, it is the total want of religious feeling 
 or control in many of the ablest, and almost all 
 the most influential of its supporters. It was 
 the absence of this check on the base and selfish 
 feelings of our nature which precipitated the 
 revolutionary party, in the outset of their career, 
 into those cruel and unjust measures against the 
 nobles and clerg)^, Avhich excited the cupidity of 
 all the middling orders in the slate, by promising 
 them the spoils of their superiors, and laid the 
 foundations of a lasting and interminable feud 
 between the higher and the lower ranks, by 
 founding the interests of the latter upon the de- 
 struction of the former. The dreams of philan- 
 thropy, the dictates of enthusiasm, even the feel- 
 ings of virtue, were foimd to be but a frail safe- 
 guard to public men in the calamitous scenes to 
 ■which the progress of change speedily brought 
 them. In this respect the English Revolution 
 affords a memorable contrast to that of France ; 
 and in its comparatively bloodless career, and 
 the abstinence of the victorious party from any 
 of those unjust measures of confiscation which 
 have proved so destructive in the neighbouring 
 kingdom, may be traced the salutary- operation 
 
 of that powerful restraint upon the base and self- 
 ish prim-iples of our nature, which arises from 
 ihc ijjK'ration,even in its most extravagant form, 
 of religious feeling. Mr. Hume has said that 
 fanaticism was the disgrace of the Great Rebell- 
 ion, and that we shall look in vain among the 
 popular leaders of England at that period for the 
 generous sentiments Avhich animated the patriots 
 of antiquity; but, without disputing the absurd- 
 ity of many of their tenets, and the ridiculous 
 nature of much in their manners, it may safely 
 be affirmed that such fer^-our was the only ef- 
 fectual bridle which could be imposed on human 
 depravity, Avhen the ordinaiy restraints of law 
 and order were at an end ; and that, but for that 
 fanaticism, they would have been disgraced by 
 the proscriptions of Marius or the executions 
 of Robespierre. 
 
 The elevation of public characters is not so 
 much owing to their actual superiority to the 
 rest of mankind, as to their falling in witli the 
 circumstances in which they are placed, and 
 representing the spirit of the age in which they 
 have arisen. The eloquence of Mirabeau would 
 have failed in rousing the people on the 10th of 
 August ; the energy of Danton would have 
 brought him to the block in the commencement 
 of the Revolution ; the ambition of Napoleon 
 would have been shattered against the democrat- 
 ic spirit of 1789. Those great men successively 
 rose to eminence, because their temper of mind 
 fell in with the cun'ent of public thought, while 
 their talents enabled them to assume its direc- 
 tion. Mirabeau represented the Constituent As- 
 sembly : free in thought, bold in expression, im- 
 daunted in speculation, but tinged by the re- 
 mains of monarchical attachment, and fearful 
 of the excesses its hasty measures v/ere so well 
 calculated to produce. Vergniaud was the mod- 
 el of the ruling party imder the Legislative Body: 
 republican in wishes, philosophic in principle, 
 humane in intention, but precipitate and reck- 
 less in conduct, blinded by ambition, infatuated 
 by speculation, ignorant of the world and the 
 mode of governing it, alike destitute of the firm- 
 ness to command, the wickedness to ensure, or 
 the vigour to seize success. Danton was the 
 representative of the Jacobin faction : unbound- 
 ed in ambition, unfettered by principle, unde- 
 teiTed by blood ; who rose in eminence with the 
 public danger, because his talents were fitted to 
 direct, and his energies were never cramped by 
 the fear of exciting popular excesses. It is such 
 men. In ever}' age, who have ultimately obtain- 
 ed the k^d in public con\Tilsions ; like the vul- 
 tures, which, invisible in ordinaiy times, are at- 
 tracted, by a-a unerring instinct, to the scene of 
 blood, and reap the last fruits of the discord and 
 violence of otheis. 
 
[ 1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 133 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FRENCH REPUBLIC — FROM THE DETHRONEMENT TO THE DEATH OP LOUIS. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Progressive Deterioration ol' the Ruling Power in France 
 during the Revolution. — Causes oC this Change. — Fury of 
 the Populace after the Storming of the Palace. — Reap- 
 pointment of the Girondist Ministrj'. — Disposal of the 
 King and Royal Family. — They are transferred to the 
 Temple. — The Armies follow the Revolution at Paris. — 
 Fall and Flight of La Fayette. — Great Influence of Dan- 
 ton, Marat, and Robesjiierre. — Their Character. — They 
 insist for a Tribunal to try Offenders against the Revo- 
 lution. — First Institution of the Revolutionary Tribunal. 
 — Consternation occasioned by the Advance of the Prus- 
 sians. — Plan for a Massacre in the Prisons. — Barriers 
 closed to prevent escape of suspected Persons.— Ener- 
 getic Plans of Danton. — Massacre in the Prisons. — Of the 
 Abbaye. — Speech of Billaud Vareunes to the Murderers. 
 — Massacre in the Prison of Carmes. — Death of the Prin- 
 cess Lamballc. — Feeble Conduct of the Assembly. — Infer- 
 nal CircuLxr by the Municipality of Paris to the other Au- 
 thorities in France. — Their enormous and undiscovered 
 Plunder. — Termination of the Legislative Assembly. — 
 Elections for the Convention. — Prodigious Influence of the 
 Jacobin Clubs on them. — Meeting of the Convention. — It 
 proclaims a Republic. — Changes the Calendar. — Strife of 
 the Girondists and Jacobins. — Their Character. — Vergni- 
 aud, Guadet, Gensoime. — Barbaroux. — Jacobins. — Gi- 
 rondists form the right, Jacobins the left of the Assem- 
 bly. — Mutual Recriminations of the Girondists and Jac- 
 obins. — State of Finances. — Fresh Issue of Assignats. — 
 Completely Democratic Constitution, with Universal 
 Suffrage established. — Great Disorders and Massacres 
 in France. — Accusation of Marat by the Girondists. — 
 Louvet arraigns Robespierre. — His Reply and Acquit- 
 tal. — Girondists in vain propose a Guard for the Conven- 
 tion. — Jacobins spread Reports of the Division of the Re- 
 public. — Prepai-ations for the Trial of Louis. — Violent 
 Agitation commenied by the Jacobins. — Discovery of the 
 Iron Closet in the Tuileries. — Preliminary Point. — Could 
 Louis be tneil by the Convention ? — Debate on the Sub- 
 ject in the Convention. — Majority determine he may be 
 tried. — Conduct of the Royal Family since their Captivi- 
 ty. — They are separated from eacli other. — King brought 
 to the Bar of the Assembly. — IIis Return to the Temple. — 
 Generous Devotion of Malesherbes and Tronchet. — Splen- 
 did Peroration of Desezes. — Debate on the Accusation. — 
 Louis is condemned, contrary to the Opinions of almost all 
 its Members.— His Death resolved on. — Dignified Conduct 
 of Louis. — His last Interview with his Family. — His last 
 Communion, and Execution. — Reflections ou his Char- 
 acter, and on that Event. 
 
 From the first commencement of the contest, 
 
 Progressive de- 
 
 each successive class that had eaiii- 
 
 terioration of ed the ascendency in France had 
 the ruling pow- been more violent and more tyran- 
 ers of France. ^^,,^1 ^^^^ tj^j^t .^vhich preceded it. 
 The convocation of the States-General, and the 
 oath in the Tennis-court, were the struggles of 
 the nation against the privileged classes ; the 
 14th of July, and the capture of the Bastile, the 
 insurrection of the middling class against the. 
 government; the lOth of August, the revolt of 
 the populace against the middling class and the 
 constiiutional throne. The leaders of the Na- 
 tional Assembly were in great part actuated by 
 the purest motives, and their measures chiefly 
 blameable for the precipitance which sprung 
 from inexperienced philanthropy : the measures 
 ©f the convention, tinged by the ferocity of popu- 
 lar ambition, and the increasing turbulence of 
 excited talent : the rule of the Jacobins was sig- 
 nalized by the energy of unshackled guilt, and 
 stained by the cruelty of emancipated slaves.* 
 " Subjects," says Tacitus, " caimot, without 
 
 * Mig., i., 196. 
 
 the greatest danger, subvert the ruling power; 
 for thence, in general, arises a necessity for 
 crime : to avoid the consequences of a single 
 rash act, men are obliged to plunge into the 
 greatest excesses." The career of guilt is the 
 same in nations as individuals; when once com- 
 menced, it cannot, without the utmost resolution, 
 be abandoned. The ultimate acts of atrocity in 
 which the}' both terminate are in general the 
 result of necessity : of the pressure arising from 
 excited passion, or the terror produced by antici- 
 pated punishment. The power of repentance 
 exists only in the commencement. If we would 
 avoid the last deeds of blood, we must shun the 
 first seductive path. 
 
 There is nothing extraordinarj^, or contrary 
 to what might have been anticipated, in this 
 progress. The people are, in all ages, either 
 swayed by their interests or ruled by their pas- 
 sions : the force of intellect, all-powerful in the 
 review of the past, is seldom fislt in judging of 
 the present. The cause is apparent, and has 
 long ago been stated by Mr. Hume : in judging 
 of the actions of others, we are influenced only 
 by our reason or our feelings : in acting for our- 
 selves, we are governed by our reason, our feel- 
 ings, and om" passions.* 
 
 It is a total mistake to suppose that the great 
 body of mankind are capable of judg- 
 ing correctly on public atfairs. No fSange. 
 man, in any rank, ever found a tenth 
 part of his acquaintance who were fitted for such 
 a task. If the opinions of most men on the great 
 questions which divide society are examined, 
 they will be found to rest on the most flimsy 
 foundations : early prejudice, personal animosi- 
 ty, private interest, constitute the secret springs 
 from which the opinions flow which ultimately 
 regulate their conduct. Truth, indeed, is in the 
 end triumphant ; but it becomes predominant 
 only upon the decay of interests, the experience 
 of suffering, or the extinction of passion. The 
 fabric of society is, in ordinaiy times, kept to- 
 gether, and moderation impressed upon the meas- 
 ures of government by the contrary nature of 
 these interests, and the opposing tendency of 
 these desii'es. Reason is sometimes heard when 
 the struggles of party or the contentions of fac- 
 tion have exhausted each other. The stability 
 of free institutions arises from the counteracting 
 nature of the forces which they constantly bring 
 into action on each other. 
 
 These considerations furnish the eternal and 
 unanswerable objection to democratical institu- 
 tions. Wherever governments are directly ex- 
 posed to their control, they are governed during 
 periods of tranquillity by'the cabals of interest, 
 during moments of turbulence by the storms of 
 passion. America at present exhibits an ex- 
 ample of the former ;t France, during the Reign 
 of Terror, an instance of the latter. 
 
 Those who refer to the original equality and 
 common rights of mankind, would do well to 
 show that men are equal in abilities as well as 
 
 ' Hume, vi , 142. 
 
 t HaB's America, ii., 173. 
 
134 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 fCHAP. vr. 
 
 in birth ; that society could exist with the multi- 
 tude really judging lor themselves on public af- 
 fairs; that the most complicated subject of hu- 
 man study — that in whicli the greatest range of 
 information is involved, and the coolest judg- 
 ment required, can be adequately mastered by 
 those who are disqualilied by nature from the 
 power of thought, disabled by labour from ac- 
 quiring knowledge, and exposed by situation to 
 the seductions of interest ; that the multitude, 
 when exercising their rights, are not following 
 despotic leaders of their own creation ; and that 
 a democracy is not, in Aristotle's words, '• an 
 aristocrac}' of orators, sometimes interrupted by 
 the monarchy of a single orator." 
 
 When the different classes, during the convul- 
 sions of a revolution, are brought into collision, 
 the virtuous and prudent have no sort of chance 
 with the Wolent and ambitious, unless the whole 
 virtuous members of the community are early 
 roused to a sense of their danger, and manfully 
 unite in resisting. In the later stages of such 
 troubles, it is extremely difficult for them to re- 
 cover their ascendency ; unless they are resolute 
 and united, it is impossible. This is another 
 consequence of the same principle. In the shock 
 of a battle, gentleness and humanity are of little 
 avail : audacity and courage are the decisive 
 qualities. In the contests of faction, wisdom 
 and moderation have as little influence. The 
 virtuous are restrained by scruples to which the 
 unprincipled are strangers : difficulties which 
 appear insurmountable to men accustomed to 
 w-eigh the consequences of their actions, vanish 
 before the recklessness of those who have noth- 
 ing to lose. " It was early seen in the Revolu- 
 tion," says Louvet, " that the men with poniards, 
 Avould sooner or later carrj' the day against the 
 men with principles ; and that the latter, upon 
 the first reverse, must prepare for exile or 
 death."* 
 
 The storming of the Tuileries and the impris- 
 oiunent of the king had destro}'ed the monarchy ; 
 the assembly had evinced its weakness by re- 
 maining a passive spectator of the contest ; the 
 real power of government had fallen into the 
 hands of the municipality of Paris. The muni- 
 cipality governed Paris ; Paris ruled the assem- 
 bly; the assembly guided France. During the 
 conflict, the leaders of the Jacobins avoided the 
 scene of danger ; Marat disappeared during the 
 confusion, and left the whole to Westennan; 
 Santerre was holding back with the forces of the 
 faubourgs, till compelled by Westennan, with 
 his sabre at his breast, to join the troops from 
 Marseilles ; Robespierre remained concealed, 
 and only appeared twenty-four hours after at the 
 commune, when he gave himself the whole 
 credit of the affair.t 
 
 After the overthrow of the Swiss Guards, the 
 Fury of the populace gave full reins to their ven- 
 populace in geauce in the sacking of the palace, 
 sacking the Wearied of massacring or laying 
 palace. waste, they broke to pieces its mag- 
 nificent furniture, and scattered its remains. 
 Drimken savages broke into the most private 
 apartments of the queen, and there gave vent to 
 indecent or obscene ribaldrj'. In an instant, all 
 the drawers and archives were forced open, and 
 the papers they contained torn in pieces or scat- 
 tered to the winds. To the horrors of pillage 
 and murder soon succeeded those of conilagra- 
 
 * Louvet, 26. Rev. Mem., vol. xxvi. 
 
 t Barbaroux, 4. 43, 69. Th., iu., 4, 5. Mi?., i., 200. 
 
 tion. Already the flames approached that au- 
 gust edifice, and the utmost elforts of the assem- 
 bly were required lo save from destruction the 
 venerated dome of the Tuileries. Nor were the 
 reuKJter parts of the city exempt from danger. 
 After the discharge of artillery and the heavy 
 volleys of the platoons had ceased, the dropping 
 fire of the musketry told how active was the pur- 
 suit of the fugitives; while its receding sound 
 and reverberation from all quarters indicated 
 how many parts of the city had become the scene 
 of horrors.* 
 
 Early on the 11th, an immense crowd assem- 
 bled on the spot which was yet reeking with the 
 blood of the Swiss who had perished on the pre- 
 ceding day. A strange mixture of feelings actu- 
 ated the spectators ; they succoured the woimded, 
 and, at the same time, honours were decreed to 
 the troops engaged on the side of the Republic, 
 and hymns of liberty were sung by the multitude. 
 The emblems of royalty, the statues of the kings, 
 were, by orders of the commune, entirely de- 
 stroyed ; those of bronze were carried to the 
 foundry of cannon ; even the name of Henr}' IV. 
 could not protect his image from destruction. 
 The rise of Democratic license in France was 
 signalized by the destruction of the most venera- 
 ble monuments of the monarchy : owing nothing 
 to antiquity, they repudiated the honours she had 
 transmitted to her children.t 
 
 The first care of the assembly was to provide 
 in some degree for the administration Reappoint- 
 of public aS'airs, after the overthrow mentofthe 
 of the throne. For this purpose, the Girondist 
 Girondist ministers Roland, Claviere, '"""stry. 
 and Servan were replaced in the offices of the 
 interior, the war department, and the finances; 
 while Danton, who had been the chief director 
 of the revolt, was appointed to the important of- 
 fice of minister of public justice. This auda- 
 cious demagogue spoke at the head of a deputa- 
 tion from the municipality in such language as 
 sufficiently demonstrated where the real power 
 of government now resided. "The people who 
 have sent us to your bar," said he, " have char- 
 ged us to declare to you that they regard you as 
 fully worthy of their confidence, but that they 
 recognise no other judges of the extraordinary 
 measures to which necessity has driven theux 
 but the voice of the French people, your sover- 
 eign as well as ours, as expressed by the prima- 
 ry assemblies." Incapable of resistance, the a.s- 
 sembly had no alternative but to pass decrees 
 sanctioning all that had been done, and inviting 
 the petitioners to make their concurrence known 
 to the people.: 
 
 For fifteen hours that the sitting of the assem- 
 bly continued after the massacre of Disposal of 
 the Swiss, the king and royal family the kin? and 
 were shut up in the narrow seat which ^"y''^^ lamily. 
 had first served them for an asylum. Exhausted 
 by fatigue and almo.st stifled by heat, the infant 
 dauphin at length fell into a profound sleep in 
 his mother's arms ; the princess royal and Mad- 
 ame Elizabeth, with their eyes streaming with 
 tears, sat on each side of her. The king was 
 tranquil during all the horrible confusion which 
 prevailed, and listened attentively both to the 
 speeches of the members of the legislature and 
 the arrogant petitioners who continually suc- 
 ceeded each other at their bar. At length, at 
 one o'clock on the following morning, they were 
 
 * Th.,iii., 3. 
 
 t- Lac, Pr. Hist.,i., 276, and ffist., ix., 259. Mig., i., 200. 
 
 t Th., iii., 6. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 135 
 
 transferred for the night to the building of the 
 Feuillants. When lett alone, Louis prostrated 
 himself in prayer. " Thy trials, O God ! are 
 dreadful; give 'us courage to bear them. We 
 adore the hand which chastens as that which has 
 so often blessed us; have mercy on those who 
 have died fighting in our defence !"' On the fol- 
 Jowing morning they had the satisfaction of re- 
 ceiving the visits of many faithful Royalists, 
 ■who, at their own imminent hazard, hastened to 
 share the perils of the royal family. Among the 
 rest was the faithful Hue, who had saved him- 
 self by leaping from a window and plunging into 
 the Seine during the hottest of the lire, where, 
 ■when almost exhausted, he was picked up by a 
 boatman. Already the august captives felt the 
 pangs of indigence; all their dress and effects 
 had been pillaged or destroyed; the dauphin was 
 indebted for a change of linen to the care of the 
 lady of the English ambassador, and the queen 
 was obliged to borrow twenty-five louis from 
 Madame Anguie, one of the ladies of the bed- 
 chamber ; a fatal gift, which was afterward made 
 the ground of her^ trial and death, notwithstand- 
 ing the claims of youth and beauty, and of the 
 faithful discharge of duty. During the trying 
 days which followed, the king displayed a firm- 
 ness and serenity which could hardly have been 
 anticipated from his previous character, and 
 showed how little his indecision had proceeded 
 iiom the apprehension of personal danger.* 
 
 For three days the royal family slept fet the 
 They are Feuillans ; but on the I3th, the assem- 
 iransferred bly, at the command of the commune, 
 to the directed that thev should be conveyed 
 
 Temple. jg j}jg Temple. ' Notwithstanding "the 
 excitement of the populace, many tears were 
 shed as the melancholy procession 
 August u. pj^ggg^i through the streets. The car- 
 riage, conveying eleven persons, was stopped on 
 the Place Vendome, in order that they might see 
 the fragments of the statue of Louis XIV. ; and 
 at length the doors of the Temple closed upon its 
 victims, and Louis commenced the spotless and 
 immortal days of his life.t 
 
 The victory over the throne on the lOth of 
 The armies August was immediately followed 
 obey the ru- by the submission of all the depart- 
 hns powers, jyients in France to the ruling party. 
 Opinions had been more divided on the revolt of 
 July the 14th; so powerfully, during the inter- 
 vening period, had the revolutionary spirit gain- 
 ed the ascendency, and so much more generally 
 does fear operate than the love of freedom. At 
 Rouen a slight movement in favour of the con- 
 stitutional monarchy took place, but, being un- 
 supported, it speedily ceased; and the emissaries 
 of the all-powerful commune of Paris succeed- 
 ed in terrifving the inhabitants into submission.: 
 Very different was the reception of the intelli- 
 gence at the headquarters of La Fayette's army, 
 which at that juncture was at Sedan. The offi- 
 cers, the soldiers, appeared to share in the con- 
 sternation of their chief, who resolved to make 
 an effort in favour of the constitu.tional throne. 
 The municipality of Sedan shared the senti- 
 ments of the army; and, by command of La 
 Fayette, they arrested and threw into prison the 
 three commissioners despatched by the National 
 Assembly to appease the discontents of the ar- 
 my. The troops and the civil authorities renew- 
 ed the oath of fidelity to the constitutional throne, 
 
 * Lac, IX., 250, 256. 
 f Lac, i., 277. Mig., 
 
 t Lac, ix., 262. Mig., i., 196. 
 197. 
 
 and everything announced a serious convulsioa 
 in the state.* 
 
 But the ruling power at Paris, in possession 
 of the seat of government and the Full and flight 
 venerable name of the assembly, of La Fayette, 
 was still predominant in the provin- August 17. 
 ces ; the period had not yet arrived when the sol- 
 diers, accustomed to look only to their leader, 
 were prepared, at his command, to overthrow 
 the authority of the legislature. The movement 
 of La Fayette and the troops under his imme- 
 diate orders was not generally seconded. A re- 
 volt in favour of the throne was looked upon 
 with aver.sion, as likely to restore the ancient 
 servitude of the nation ; the tyranny of the mob, 
 as yet unfelt, was much less the object of appre- 
 heiision. Luckner, who commanded the army 
 on the Moselle, attempted to second the measure 
 of La Fayette ; but Dumourier and the inferior 
 generals, stimulated by personal ambition, re- 
 solved to side with the ruling party. The former, 
 of a feeble and irresolute character, made his 
 public recantation before the municipality of 
 Metz ; and La Fayette himself, finding dangers 
 multiplying on all sides, and uncertain what 
 course to adopt in the perilous situation of the 
 royal family, tied from the army, accompanied 
 by Bursau de Pucy, Latour Maubourg, and La- 
 raeth, intending to proceed to the United States, 
 where his first efforts in favour of freedom had 
 been made ; but he was arrested near the frontier 
 by the Austrians, and conducted to the dungeons 
 of Olmutz. He was offered his liberty on con- 
 dition of making certain recantations; but he 
 preferred remaining four years in a rigorous 
 confinement, to receding in "any particular from 
 the principles which he had embraced. The as- 
 sembly declared him a traitor, and set a price 
 on his' head ; and the first leader of the Revolu- 
 tion owed his life to imprisonment in an Aus- 
 trian fortress. t 
 
 Meanwhile, the principal powers of govern- 
 ment fell into the hands of Danton, Marat, and 
 Robespierre. The first of these had been chiefly 
 instrumental in bringing about the insunection 
 of the 10th of August. "During the night prece- 
 ding the attack, he had repeatedly visited the 
 quarters of the revolutionary' troops, and encour- 
 aged their ardour ; as member of the municipal- 
 ity of Paris, he had been the chief director of 
 their operations. He was shortly af- ^^^^^^^^^ 
 ter, from his situation as minister ot ^f uauton. 
 justice, invested with supreme author- 
 ity in the capital, and was chiefly instrumental 
 in bringing about the subsequent massacres in 
 the prisons. Yet Danton was not a mere blood- 
 thirsty tvrant. Bold, unprincipled, and daring, 
 he held that the end in every case justified the 
 means; that nothing was blameable provided it 
 led to desirable results ; that nothing was impos- 
 sible to those who had the courage to attempt it. 
 A gigantic stature, a commanding front, a voice 
 of thunder, rendered him the fit leader of assas- 
 sins more timid or less ferocious than himself. 
 A starving advocate in 1789, he rose in audaci- 
 ty and erninence with the public disturbances; 
 prodigal in expense and drowned in debt, he had 
 no chance, at any period, even of personal free- 
 dom, but in constantly advancing with the for- 
 tune's of the Revolution^ Like Mirabeau, he 
 was the slave of sensual passions ; like him, he 
 was the terrific leader, during his ascendency. 
 
 * Lac, i., 277. 
 
 t Lac, i., 278, 279. 
 
 Mig., i., 199. Th., ill., 30, 34. 
 
136 
 
 HISTORY OF EUKOl'K. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 •of the ruling class; hut he .shared the (■haracter, 
 not of the patricians who conimenccd the Revo- 
 lution, but of the plebeians who consu)umated 
 its wickedness. Inexorable in general meas- 
 ures, he was indulgent, humane, and even gen- 
 erous to individuals ; the autlior of the massacres 
 of the '2d of September, he saved all those wht) tied 
 to him, and spontaneouslj' liberated his personal 
 adversaries liom prison. Individual elevation 
 and the safety of his party were his ruling ob- 
 jects ; a revolution appeared a game of hazard, 
 where the stake was the life of the losing party: 
 the strenuous supporter of exterminating cruelty 
 after the lOth of August, he wa.s among the fir.st 
 to recommend a return to humanity after the 
 period of danger was pa.st.* 
 
 Robespierre possessed a verj^ different charac- 
 
 ter: without the external energy of 
 Robl^pierre *i'=^ ^ival, without his domineering 
 
 character or imdaunted courage, he 
 was endowed with qualities which ultimately 
 raised him to the head of affairs. Though nof 
 splendid, his talents were of the most powerful 
 kind : ungainly in apj^earance, with a feeble 
 voice and vulgar accent, he owed his elevation 
 chiefly to the inflexible obstinacy with which he 
 maintained his opinions at a time when the pop- 
 ular cause had lost many of its supporters. Un- 
 der the mask of patriotism wa.s concealed the 
 incessant influence of vanity and selfishness; 
 cautious in conduct, slow but implacable in re- 
 venge, he avoided the perils which proved fatal 
 to so many of his adversaries, and ultimately es- 
 tablished himself on their ruin. Insatiable in 
 his thirst for blood, he disdained tlie more vulgar 
 passion for money: at a time when he disposed 
 of the lives of ever\- man in France, he resided 
 in a small apartment, the only luxury of which 
 
 but in destroying the whole enemies of the Rev.- 
 olution ; he was repeatedly heard to say that 
 there would be no security to the state till "280,000 
 heads had fallen. The Revolution produced 
 many men who carried into execution more 
 sanguinary measures, none who exercised so 
 powerful an influence in recommending them. 
 Death cut him short in the midst of his relent- 
 less career ; the hand of female heroism prevents 
 ed his falling a victim to the savage exaspera- 
 tion whicli he had so large a share in creating.* 
 The influence of these leaders Avas .speedily 
 felt in the measures which were adopted by 
 the municipality of Paris. Robespierre gener- 
 ally presented their petitions to the assembly. 
 "Blood," he exclaimed at the bar, "has not yet 
 flowed; the people remain without vengeance. 
 jN'o sacrifice has yet been offered to the manes 
 of those who died on the 10th of August. And 
 what have been the results of that immortal day 1 
 a tjuant has been suspended ; vrhy is he not de- 
 throned and punished ! You speak of bringing 
 to judgment the conspirators ot the 10th of Au- 
 gust: that is too slow a way of wreaking the na- 
 tional vengeance; the pimishment of some is 
 nothing when others escape ; they should all be 
 punished, and by judges created specially for the 
 occasion." " The tranquillity of the people," 
 said he, at another time, "depends on the pun- 
 ishment of the guilty : and Avhat have you done 
 to efl'ect it 1 Your decree is manifestly insuffi- 
 cientt It is neither sufficient!}' extensive nor ex- 
 plicit ; for it speaks only of the crimes of the 10th 
 of August ; and the crimes against the Revolu- 
 tion are of much older date. Under that exr 
 pression the traitor La Fayette could escape the 
 punishment due to his guilt. The people, more- 
 over, will not endure that this new tribunal 
 
 consisted in images of his figure, and the num- i should preserve the forms hitherto observed. 
 
 ber of mirrors which, in every direction, reflect 
 ed its form. While the other leaders of the pop- 
 ulace affected a squalid dress and dirty linen, he 
 alone appeared in elegant attire. An austere 
 life, a desenred reputation for incorruptibility, 
 a total disregard of human suffering, preserved 
 his ascendency with the fanatical supporters of 
 liberty, even though he had little in conrmon with 
 them, and nothing grand or generous in his char- 
 acter. His terrible career is a proof how little, 
 in popular commotions, even domineering vices 
 are ultimately to be relied on, and how com- 
 pletely indomitable perseverance and the inces- 
 sant prosecution of selfish ambition can supply 
 the want of commanding qualities. The ap- 
 proach of death unveiled his real weakness:! 
 when success was hopeless, his firmness desert- 
 ed him, and the assassin of thousands met his 
 fate with less courage than the meanest of his 
 victims. 
 Marat was the worst of the triumvirate. Na- 
 j^ ture had impressed the atrocity of his 
 ^* ■ character on his countenance : "hideous 
 features, the expression of a demon, revolted all 
 who approached him. For more than three 
 years his writings had incessantly stimulated the 
 people to cruelty ; buried in obscurity, he revolv- 
 ed in his mind the means of augmenting the 
 victims of the Revolution. In vain repeated ac- 
 cusations were directed against him ; flying from 
 one subterraneous abode to another, he still con- 
 tinued his infernal agnation of the public mind. 
 His principles were, that there was no safety 
 
 * Ml?., I., 201, 202. Roland, ii., 14-17. 
 + Roland, i., 298. Barbaroux, 03, 64. Mig.,i.,2I7. Hist. 
 de la Conv., i., 74. 
 
 The appeal from one jurisdiction to another oc- 
 casions an intolerable delay ; it is absolutely ne- 
 cessaiy that the tribunal should be compo.sed of 
 deputies chosen from the sections, and that it 
 should have the power of pronouncing, without 
 appeal, the last punishment of the law."t 
 
 The assembly in vain strove to resist these 
 sanguinary demands. As thev con- ,-., ,. 
 tmued to temporize, the commune institution- 
 sent them the most menacing mes- of the Rev- 
 sages, threatening to sound the tocsin olutionary . 
 at night if the public vengeance was '"t"""^!- 
 any longer delayed. " The people," it was said, 
 "are tired of the delay of vengeance: beware of 
 their taking the sword into their own hands. If 
 within two hours the juiy is not ready to convict, 
 the most terrible calamities await Paris." In- 
 timidated by these menaces, they appointed a 
 tribunal for the trial of these oflenders, the first 
 model of the court afterward so well known un- 
 der the name of the Revolutionary Tribunal ;t 
 but, though it immediately condemned severjil 
 persons, it.s proceedings appeared tardy to the 
 commune, who had resolved upon the most ter- 
 rible projects. 
 
 The advance of the Prussians had occasioned 
 the greatest agitation in the capital, pianfora 
 and eminently favoured the savage massacre in 
 designs of the demagogues. On the ^^^ prisons. 
 20th of August Lonwy was invested ; on the 21st 
 it capitulated ; on the 30th the enemy appeared 
 before Verdmi, and the bombardment immedi- 
 atelv commenced. Terror, the greatest instiga- 
 
 * Barbaroux, 57. Garat, 174, 167. Lac, i., 281. Mig., 
 , 220. t Th., iii., 26. lac, i., 281. 
 
 ± Mig., i., 201. Lac, Pr. Hist., i., 277. Th., iLi., 27. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 137 
 
 tor lo cruelty, seized the minds of the populace; 
 the executive council, composed ot" the ministers 
 of state, met with the committee of general de- 
 fence to deliberate on the measures wliich should 
 be pursued. Some pioposed to await the eneyiy 
 under tlie walls of Paris, others to retire to Sau- 
 mur. '• Are you not aware," said Danton, when 
 his turn to speak came, " that France is governed 
 by Paris, and that, if you abandon the capital, 
 you abandon yourselves and your country' to the 
 stranger 1 We must, at all hazards, maintain our 
 position in this city. The project of fighting un- 
 der its walls is equally inadmissible; the 10th 
 of August has divided the country into two par- 
 ties, and the ruling force is too inconsiderable to 
 give us any chance of success. My advice is, 
 that, to disconcert their measures and arrest the 
 enemy, we must strike terror into the Royalists.' 
 The committee, who well understood the mean- 
 ing of these ominous words, expressed their con- 
 sternation : •'• Yes," said he, " I repeat it, we must 
 strike terror." The committee declined to adopt 
 the project; but Danton immediately laid it be- 
 fore the commune, by whom it was readily em- 
 braced. He wished to impress the enemy with 
 a sense of the energy of the Republicans, and to 
 engage the multitude in such sanguinary meas- 
 ures, as, by rendering retreat impossible, gave 
 them no chance of safety but in victory.* 
 
 The assembly, panic-struck, M-as incapable 
 of arresting the measures which were in prog- 
 ress. The Girondists, who had so often ruled 
 its decisions when the object was to assail the 
 court, found themselves weak and unsupported 
 when the end was to restrain the people. Its 
 benches were deserted : the energy of victory, 
 the throng consequent on success, had passed to 
 the other side. Incessantly speaking of restrain- 
 ing the municipality, it never attempted any- 
 thing: the leaders of the Girondists were already 
 threatened with proscription ; Roland, the minis- 
 ter of the interior, Vergniaud, Guadet, and Bris- 
 sot, were in hourly expectation of an accusa- 
 tion. 
 
 On the 29th of August the barriers were clo- 
 «n.u r . sed, and remained shut for forty- 
 
 29thof Aus. • 1,1 u .. J 11 
 
 Barriers closed 6V?"t hours, SO as to render all es- 
 cape impossible; and on the 3lst 
 and the 1st of September, domiciliary visits were 
 made, by order of the commune, Avith a vast and 
 appalling force ; great numbers of all ranks were 
 imprisoned, but the victims were chiefly selected 
 from the noblesse and the dissident clergy. To 
 conceal the real designs of the municipality, the 
 citizens capable of bearing arms were at the 
 same time assembled in the Champ de Mars, 
 formed into regiments, and marched off for the 
 frontier. The tocsin sounded, the giii^rale beat, 
 cannon were discharged ; Tallien presented him- 
 self at the bar of the assembly to give an account 
 of the measures of the commune. Vergniaud 
 and Henry Lanoue had already denounced the 
 sanguinary measures of that terrible body, but 
 it was too late ; the petitioners appeared with the 
 tone and the arrogance of victors. " We have 
 made domiciliary visits," he said. " Who or- 
 dered us to do so 7 Yourselves. We have ar- 
 rested the refractory priests; they are securely 
 confined. In a few days the soil of freedom 
 shall be delivered from their presence. If you 
 strike us, you immolate, at the same time, the 
 people who gained the victory of July the I4th, 
 
 * Mig-.. i.,203, 203. Lac, Pr. Hist., i., 264, 265. Th., 
 ii-, 44, 49. t Lac, Pr. Hist., i., 285. 
 
 who consolidated their power on August ths 
 lUth, and who will maintain what they have 
 gained." Meanwhile, a tunmltuous mob sur- 
 rounded the assembly ; at the conclusion of every 
 sentence, shouts of •' Vive la Commune ! Vivent 
 nos bons Conunissaires !" resounded through the 
 hall; the mob burst into the interior, and defiled 
 in a menacing manner before the tribune : sub- 
 dued by so many dangers, it broke up without 
 coming to any resolution, and the victor}- of the 
 mvmicipality was complete.* 
 
 Encouraged by this success, the commune 
 proceeded, without farther hesitation, Enero^etic 
 in their sanguinary measures. Danton plans°of 
 directed their operations, and framed l^anton. 
 the lists of proscription at the hotel of the min- 
 ister of justice. He soon after appeared at the 
 bar of the assembly, to give an account of the 
 measures taken to ensure the public safety. " A 
 part of the people,", he said, " have already set 
 out for the frontiers; another is engaged in dig- 
 ging our intrenchments ; and the third, with 
 pikes, will delend the interior of the city. But 
 this is.not enough : you must send commissaries 
 and couriers to rouse all France to imitate the 
 example of the capital ; we must pass a decree, 
 by which ever)' citizen shall be obliged, under 
 pain of death, to serve in person against the com- 
 mon enem}-." At this instant the tocsin began 
 to sound, the cannon were discharged, and he 
 immediately added, " The cannon which you 
 hear is not the cannon of alann ; it is the signal 
 to advance against )'our enemies ; to conquer 
 them, to crush them ! What is required 1 Bold- 
 ness 1 boldness ! boldness !" These words, pro- 
 nounced with a voice of thunder, produced the 
 most appalling impression ; and a decree of the 
 commune was immediately proclaimed, announ- 
 cing the urgent danger of the commonwealth, 
 and commanding the whole citizens to repair 
 anned to their several posts as soon as the can- 
 non of alarm was heard.t 
 
 The utmost terror was excited in every part 
 of Paris at these preparations. An uncertain 
 feeling of horror prevailed ; every one appie- 
 hended that some dismal catastrophe was ap- 
 proaching, though none knew where or on whom 
 the stroke was to fall. All the public authori- 
 ties, the assembly, the municipality, the sec- 
 tions, the Jacobins, had declared their sittings 
 permanent. The whole city was in consterna- 
 tion, but the greatest alarms prevailed in the 
 prisons. In the Temple, the royal family, who 
 had so much reason to apprehend danger from 
 the public convulsion, eagerly asked what had 
 given rise to the unusual noise in the streets; 
 while, at all the other prisons, the anxious looks 
 of the jailers, and the unusual precaution of re- 
 moving all the knives in use at dinner, told but 
 too plainly that some bloody project was in con- 
 templation. t 
 
 At two in the morning on the 2d of September, 
 the signal was given ; the gen^rale 
 beat, the tocsin sounded, and the citi- ihe°nrisons! 
 zens of all ranks joined their respect- 
 ive banners. The victors and the vanquished 
 on the 10th of August appeared in the same 
 ranks, so completely had the crisis of national 
 danger and the agitation of the moment drowned 
 even the fiercest domestic discord. A powerful 
 auxiliary force was thus provided for the armies, 
 which was instantly despatched towards the fron- 
 
 ' Th., ill., 54. Mig-., 1., 204. Lac, Pr. Hist., i.,284, 28S. 
 t M.g., i., 204. Lac, i., 288, 289. Th., ii., 6L 
 t Th., !i:.,CI,62. 
 
138 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 tiers, while the relentless municipality was rap- 
 idly organizing the work of destruction in the 
 capital, now stripped of its most energetic citi- 
 zens.* 
 
 The whole prisons of Paris had been filled 
 with several thousand persons, arrested during 
 the domiciliary visits ol the preceding days. A 
 band of three hundred assassins, directed and paid 
 by the magistrates, assembled round the doors 
 •of the Hotel de Ville. Ardent spirits, liberally 
 furnished by the magistrates, augmented their 
 natural ferocity. Money was supplied to those 
 who appeared behind their comrades in determi- 
 nation, and the savage band marched through 
 the streets singing revolutionary songs. Robes- 
 pierre, Billaud Varennes, and Collot d'Herbois 
 alternately harangued the multitude : '• Magnan- 
 imous people," exclaimed the last, "j'ou march 
 to glory : how unfortunate are we to be unable 
 to follow your steps; how the audacity of our 
 •enemies will increase when they no longer be- 
 hold the conquerors of the lOthofAugusL Let 
 us, at least, not become responsible for the mur- 
 der of your wives and children, which the con- 
 spirators are preparing, even in the prisons, 
 where they are expecting their deliverers." Rous- 
 ed by these words, the mob became ready for 
 every atrocity, and answered the discourse with 
 Tepeated cries for the death of the imprisoned 
 Tictims.t 
 
 The prison of the Abbaye was the first to be 
 assailed. The unhappy inmates of this 
 Abbave gloomy abode had for some days been 
 alarmed by the obscure hints of their jail- 
 ers ; at length, at three o'clock on the morning 
 of the 2d of September, the increased clamour 
 and the shouts of the multitude, announced that 
 their last hour was arrived. j 
 
 Four-and-twenty priests, placed under arrest 
 for refusing to take the new oaths, were in cus- 
 tody at the Hotel de Vifle. They were removed 
 in six coaches to the prison of the Abbaye, amid 
 the yells and execrations of the mob; and no 
 sooner had they arrived there, than they were 
 surrounded by a furious multitude, headed by 
 Maillard, armed with spears and sabres, dragged 
 out of their vehicles into the inner court of the 
 prison, and there pierced by a hundred weapons. 
 
 The cries of these victims, who were hewn to 
 pieces by the multitude, finst drew the eyes of 
 the prisoners to the fate -w'hich awaited them- 
 selves ; seized separately and dragged before an 
 inexorable tribunal, they were speedily turned 
 out to the vengeance of the populace. Reding 
 was one of the first to be selected ; the pain of 
 his wounds extorted cries even from that intrepid 
 Swiss soldier as he was hurried along, and one 
 of the assassins drew his sword across his throat, 
 and he perished before reaching the judges. The 
 forms of justice were prostituted to the most in- 
 human massacre ; torn from their dungeons, the 
 prisoners were hurried before a tribunal, where 
 the president Maillard sat by torchlight with a 
 •drawn sabre before him, and his robes drenched 
 wath blood ; officers with drawTi swords, and 
 shirts stained with gore, surrounded the chair. 
 A few minutes, often a few seconds, disposed 
 of the fate of each individual ; dragged from the 
 pretended judgment hall, they were tiimed out to 
 the populace, who thronged round the doors, arm- 
 ed with sabres, panting for slaughter, and with 
 loud cries demanding a quicker supply of vic- 
 
 * Mig., i., 204. Lac, i., 209. Th., iii., 62. 
 t Lac, 1., 290. Th., ii., 75. Mig., i., 204. 
 t Saint Meard, 22. 
 
 tims. No executioners were required ; the peo- 
 ple despatched the condemned with their own 
 hands, and sometimes enjoyed the savage pleas- 
 ure of beholding them run a considerable dis- 
 tance before they expired. Immured in the up- 
 per chambers of the building, the other prisoners 
 endured the agony of witnessing the prolonged 
 suderings of their comrades ; a dreadful thirst 
 added to their tortures, and the inhuman jailers 
 refused even a draught of water to their earnest 
 entreaties. Some had the presence of mind to 
 observe in what attitude death soonest relieved 
 its victims, and resolved, when their hour ar- 
 rived, to keep their hands down, lest, b}'^ warding 
 off the strokes, they should prolong their suffer- 
 ings.* 
 
 The populace, however, in the court of the 
 Abbaye, complained that the foremost only got 
 a stroke at the prisoners, and that they were de- 
 prived of the pleasure of murdering the aristo- 
 crats. It was, in consequence, agreed that those 
 in advance should only strike widi the backs of 
 their sabres, and that the wretched victims should 
 be made to run the gauntlet through a long ave- 
 nue of murderers, each of whom should have the 
 satisfaction of striking them before they expired. 
 The women in the adjoining quarter of the city 
 made a formal demand to the commtme for lights 
 to see the massacres, and a lamp was, in conse- 
 quence, placed near the spot where the victims 
 issued, amid the shouts of the spectators. Bench- 
 es, under the charge of sentinels, were next ar- 
 ranged " Pour ks Messieurs," and another " Pour 
 Ics Dames" to witness the spectacle. As each 
 successive prisoner was turned out of the gate, 
 yells of joy rose from the multitude, and when 
 he fell they danced like carmibals round his re- 
 mains.t 
 
 Billaud Varennes soon after arrived, wearing 
 his magisterial scarf Mounted on speech of Bil- 
 a pile of dead, he harangued the peo- laud Varen- 
 ple amid this infernal scene : " Citi- nestothemur- 
 zens, you have exterminated some '''^'■'='■^• 
 wretches ; you have saved your country ; the 
 municipality is at a loss how to discharge its 
 debt of gratitude towards you. I am authorized 
 to offer each of you twentj^-four francs, which 
 shall be instantly paid. (Loud applause.) Re- 
 spectable citizens, continue your good work, and 
 acquire new titles to the homage of your coun- 
 tiy ! But let no imworthy action soil your 
 hands : you dishonour this glorious day if you en- 
 gage in any meaner work : abstain from pillage ; 
 the municipality shall take care that your claims 
 on them are discharged. Be noble, grand, and 
 generous, worthy of the task yoti have underta- 
 ken: let ev'erj-fhing on this great day be fitting 
 the sovereignty of the people, who have commit- 
 ted their vengeance to your hands." The assas- 
 sins were not slow in claiming their promised 
 reward : stained with blood and bespatiered with 
 brains, with their swords and bayonets in their 
 hands, they soon thronged the doors of the com- 
 mittee of the municipality, who were at a loss 
 for funds to discharge their claims. " Do you 
 think I have only earned twenty-four francs'?" 
 said a young baker, armed with a massy weap- 
 on; " / have slain forty v-ith mij mtyn hands." At 
 midnight the mob returned, threatening instant 
 death to the whole committee if they were not 
 forthwith paid ; Avith the sabre at his throat, a 
 member of the municipality advanced the half 
 
 * Saint Meard, 22, 30, 40. Th., iii., 64, 65, 66. Peltier's 
 Mcmoires, xi., 26. 
 t Abbe Sicaru, 112, 116, 134. Rt5v. Mem., xlvi. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 139 
 
 of the sum required, and the remainder was paid 
 by Roland, the minister of tlie interior. The 
 names of the assassins and the sum they receiv- 
 ed are still to be seen written with blood in the 
 registers of the section of the Jardin desPlantes, 
 of the municipality, and of the section ut' 
 Unity.*t 
 
 The dignity of virtue, the charms of beauty, 
 were alike lost upon the multitude. Among the 
 rest, they seized on the humane and enlightened 
 M. Sicard, teacher of the deaf and dumb, the 
 tried friend of the poorer classes. He would 
 have been instantly murdered, though his char- 
 acter was known, had not a courageous watch- 
 maker, of the name of Monnot, rushed between 
 and stayed the lance, already raised to be plun- 
 ged in his bosom. In the midst of the massacres, 
 Mademoiselle de Sombrieul, eighteen years of 
 age, threw herself on her father's neck, who was 
 beset by the assassins, and declared they should 
 not strike him but through her body. In amaze- 
 ment at her courage, the mob paused, and one 
 of the number presented her with a cup filled 
 with blood, exclaiming, '■ Drink ! it is the blood 
 of the aristocrats !" promising, if she drank it ofl', 
 to spare his life. She did so, and he was saved. 
 Mademoiselle Cazotte, of still younger years, 
 sought out her aged parent in prison during the 
 tumult : when the guards came to drag him be- 
 fore the tribunal, she clung so finnly to his neck 
 that it was found impossible to separate them, 
 and she succeeded in softening the murderers; 
 but he perished a few days afterward with the 
 courage of a martyr, and his heroic daughter 
 only learned his fate upon being subsequently 
 liberated from confinement.,: 
 
 Similar tragedies took place at the same time 
 Massacre in in all the Other jails of Paris, and in 
 the prison of the religious houses, which were 
 the Cannes. flUgd with victims. In the prison 
 of the Cannes, above two hundred of the clergy 
 were assembled ; in the midst of them was the 
 Archbishop of Aries, venerable for his years and 
 his virtues, and several other prelates. Ar- 
 ranged round the altar, they heard the cries of 
 the assassins, who clamoured at the gates; a 
 iew, yielding to the dictates of terror, had es- 
 caped, and were beyond the reach of danger, 
 when, struck with shame at deserting their breth- 
 ren in such an extremity, they returned and 
 shared their fate. Awed b)' the sublimity of the 
 scene, the wretches hastened the work of destruc- 
 tion, lest the hearts of the spectators should be 
 softened ere the massacre began ; the Archbishop 
 •of Aries repeated the prayer for those in the ago- 
 nies of death, and they expired imploring for- 
 giveness for their murderers. Many were offer- 
 ed their life on condition of taking the revolu- 
 tionary oaths : all refused, and died in the faith 
 of their fathers. Among the slain were several 
 curates who had been eminent for their charity 
 in the dreadful famine of 1789: they received 
 death from the hands of those whom they had 
 saved from its horrors.§ 
 
 The fate of the Princess Lamballe was par- 
 Death of the licularly deplorable. Tenderly at- 
 Princess tached to the queen, she at first, at 
 LambaUc. jjer own desire, shared her captivity, 
 
 * Rev. M6moires, xlvi., 338, 339. Abbe Sicard, 134, 135. 
 Th.,iii., 74,75. 
 
 t Besides these sums, there is inscribed on the books of the 
 municipality the advance of 1463 francs on September 4 
 lo the assassins. — Thiers, iii., 75. 
 
 J Rev. M^moires, xlvi., 76, 77. Sicard, 105. Th., iii., 71. 
 
 4 Lac, Pr. Hist., i., 290, 291. Th., iii., 64, 65, 74, 75. 
 
 but was aftersvard, by orders of the munici- 
 pality, separately confined in the Petite Force. 
 When the assassins arrived at her cell, .she was 
 offered her life if she would swear hatred to the 
 king and queen : she refused, and was instantly 
 struck down. One of her domestics, whom she 
 had loaded with benefits, gave the first blow. 
 Her graceful figure was instantly torn in pieces' 
 the fragments put on the end of pikes, and pa- 
 raded through difi'erent parts of the city. The 
 head, raised on a lance, was first carried to the 
 palace of the Duke of Orleans, who rose Jrom 
 dimier, and smiled at the ghastly spectacle; it 
 was next conveyed to the Temple, and paraded 
 before the windows of Louis XVI. Ignorant 
 of what had passed, and attracted by the noise, 
 the king, at the desire of one of the commission- 
 ers of the municipality, proceeded to the win- 
 dow, and, by the beautiful hair, recognised the 
 bloody remains of his once lovely friend;* an- 
 other commissioner, of more humane leeiings, 
 tried to prevent him from beholding it. After- 
 ward the king was asked if he remembered the 
 name of the soldier who had showed such bar- 
 barity: "No," he replied; "but perlectly the 
 name of him who showed sensibility. "t 
 
 It is a singular circumstance, worthy of being 
 recorded as characteristic of the almost incon- 
 ceivable state of the human mind during such 
 convulsions, that many of the assassins who put 
 the prisoners to death showed them.selves, on 
 some occasions, feelingly alive to the warmest 
 sentiments of humanity. M. Journiac was for- 
 tunate enough, by a combination of presence of 
 mind and good "fortune, to obtain an acquittal 
 from the terrible tribunal : two individuals, 
 strangers to him, pressed his foot to mark when 
 he should speak, and when acquitted, bore him 
 safe under the arch of spears and sabres through 
 which he had to pass. He offered them money 
 when they had arrived at a place of safetj : they 
 refused, and after embracing him, returned io the 
 work of destruction. Another prisoner, saved 
 in a similar mamier, was conducted home with 
 the same solicitude ; the murderers, still reeking 
 with the carnage they had committed, insistetl 
 on being spectators of the meeting of him and 
 his family: they wept at the scene, and imme- 
 diately went buck with renewed alacrity to the 
 scene of death. It would seem as if, in tliat con- 
 vulsive state, all strong emotions rapidly suc- 
 ceed each other in the human breast; and the 
 mind, wrought up as by the interest of a trage- 
 dy, is prepared alike for the most savage deeds 
 of cruelt}', or the lenderest emotions of pity.i 
 
 Above five thousand persons perished in the 
 different prisons of Paris during these massa- 
 cres, which continued, with no interruption, irom 
 the 2d to the 6th of September. When the other 
 captives were all destroyed, the assassins, insa- 
 tiable in their thirst for blood, besieged the Bice- 
 tre, containing several thousand prisoners con- 
 fined for ordinar}' oflences having no connexion 
 
 * Lac, Pr. llist., i., 393. R6v. Menioires, xlvi., 71. 
 Th., ill., 8. 
 
 t It is sometimes not uninstiuctive to follow the career of 
 the wretches who perpetrate such crimes lo iheir latter end. 
 " In a remote situation," says the Duchess of Abrantes, " on 
 the seacoast, lived a middle-aged man, in a solitary cottage, 
 unattended by any human being-. The police had strict or- 
 deis from the first consul to watch him with peculiar care. 
 He died of suffocation, produced by an accident which had 
 befallen him when eating, uttering the most horrid blasphe- 
 mies, and in the midst of frightful tortures. He had been 
 the principal actor m the murder of the Princess Lam- 
 balle.'' — D'Abr ANTES, iii., 264. 
 
 I Th., ill., 73, 74. St. Heard, Rct. Memoires, jjvi., 349. 
 
140 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 with the state. They defended themselves with 
 such resolution that it became necessary to em- 
 ploy cannon for their destruction. But the mul- 
 titude were resolutely bent on blood, and con- 
 tinued the contest by unceasingly bringing up 
 fresh forces, till the felons were overpowered, 
 and all put to death. At length the murders 
 ceased, from the complete exhaustion of its vic- 
 tims. Their remains were thrown into trench- 
 es, previously prepared by the municipality for 
 their reception ; they were subsequently convey- 
 ed to the catacombs, where they were built up, 
 and still remain the monument of crimes unfit to 
 be thought of, even in the abodes of death, which 
 France would willingly bury in oblivion.* 
 
 During the crusade against the Albigeois in 
 the south of France, four hundred men and wo- 
 men were publicly burned at Carcassonne, to 
 " the great joy of the crusading warriors. "+ 
 When the Athenian democracy extinguished 
 the revolt in the island of Mytilene, they passed 
 a decree, ordering the whole vanquished people, 
 with their otfspring,t to be put to death. When 
 the Irish soldiers in Montrose's army were made 
 prisoners, after the battle of Philiphaugh, they 
 were thrown, with their wives and cnildren, 
 from the bridge of Linlithgow, in Scotland ; and 
 the Patriot bands stood on the banks of the river 
 with uplifted halberds, and massacred such of 
 the helpless imiocents as were thro-mi undrown- 
 ed upon the shore.§ Cruelty is not the growth 
 of any particular country : it is not found in a 
 greater degiee in France than it would be in any 
 other state similarly situated. It is the unchain- 
 ing the passions of the multitude which in all 
 ages produces this effect. 
 
 During these terrific scenes, the National As- 
 Feeble con- sembly, how anxious soever to arrest 
 duct of the the disorders, could do nothing; the 
 assembly, ministry were equally impotent ; the 
 terrible municipality ruled triumphant. At the 
 worst period of the massacres, the legislature 
 was engaged in discussing a decree for the coin- 
 ing of money. When the slaughter of the priests 
 at the prison of Cannes could no longer be con- 
 cealed, they sent a deputation to emleavour to 
 save the victims ; but they only succeeded in 
 rescuing one. On the Ibllowing day, the com- 
 missioners of the magistracy appeared at the 
 bar of the assembly, and assured the deputies 
 that Paris was in the most complete tranquillity, 
 though the murders continued lor four days af- 
 terward. The National Guard, divided in opin- 
 ion, hesitated to act; and Sanlerre, their new 
 commander, refused to call them out. Roland 
 alone had the courage in the assembly to exert 
 his talents in the cause of humanity.ll A few 
 days afterward, the eloquence of Vergniaud 
 roused the legislature from their stupor; and he 
 had the resolution to propose, and the influence 
 to carry, a decree, rendering the members of the 
 municipality responsible, with their heads, for 
 the safety of their prisoners. 
 
 The small number of those who perpetrated 
 these murders in the French capital under the 
 eyes of the legislature is one of the most in- 
 structive facts in the history' of revolutions. 
 Marat had long before said that, with two hun- 
 dred assassins at a louis a day, he would govern 
 France, and cause three hundred thousand heads 
 
 * Lac., Pr. Hist., i., 295. Th., iii., 83. Scott, ii. 47. 
 t Sismondi, vi., 397. t Thucydides^i., 250, 256. 
 
 6 Chambers' Rel)elIions of Scotland, iii., 37. 
 'I Lac, i., 295, 296. Hist, de France, ix., 360. Mig., i., 
 205. Th., hi., 76, 77, 79. 
 
 to fall ; and the events of the 2d of September 
 seemed to justify the opinion. The number of 
 those actually engaged in the massacre did not 
 exceed three hundred, and twice as many more 
 witnessed and encouraged their proceedings ; 
 yet this handful of men governed Paris and 
 France with a despotism which three hundred 
 thousand armed warriors afterward strove in 
 vain to effect. The immense majority of the 
 well-disposed citizens, divided in opinion, irres- 
 olute in conduct, and dispersed in different quar- 
 ters, were incapable of arresting a band of as- 
 sassins engaged in the most atrocious cruelties 
 of which modem Europe has yet afforded an ex- 
 ample; an important warning to the strenuous 
 and the good in eveiy succeeding age, to com- 
 bine for defence the moment that the aspiring 
 and the desperate have begun to agitate the pub- 
 lic mind ; and never to trust that mere smallness 
 of numbers can be relied on for preventing reck- 
 less ambition from destroying irresolute virtue.* 
 
 It is not less worthy of observation that these 
 atrocious massacres took place in the heart of a 
 city where above lifty thousand men were en- 
 rolled in the National Guard, and had arms in 
 their hands ; a force specifically destined to pre- 
 vent insurrectionar}- movements, and support, 
 under all changes, the majesty of the law. They 
 were so divided in opinion, and the Revolution- 
 ists composed so large a part of their number, 
 that nothing wliatever was done bj' them, either 
 on the 10th of August, when the king was de- 
 throned, or the 'id of September, when the pris- 
 oners were massacred. This puts in a forcible 
 point of view the weakness of such a body, 
 which, being composed of citizens, is distracted 
 by their feelings, cUid actuated by their passions. 
 In ordinary times, it may exhibit an imposing 
 array, and he .adequate to the repression of the 
 smaller disorders ; but it is paralyzed by the 
 events which throw society into convulsions, 
 and generally fails at the decisive moment when 
 its aid is most required. 
 
 The municipality of France wrote an infer- 
 nal circular to the other cities of , . . 
 
 i-i • ■■• ,1 . • •• , .V, liiTitation of 
 
 France, invitmg them to imitate the ^^^^ q^^. 
 
 massacres of the capital ; but none mune of Pa- 
 obeyed the summons. The prison- ns to other 
 ers of Orleans had been despatched i^assacres m 
 
 T, . ,, . . r. r France, 
 
 to Pans ; the emissaries ot the con- 
 vention met them at Versailles, where they were 
 all murdered, with the exception of three, left 
 for dead among the slain, and saved during the 
 night by the humanity of some women. The 
 virtuous and enlightened Larochefoucault Avas 
 arrested in his carriage, and massacred on the 
 spot, in the arms of his wife and mother. tt 
 
 * Barbar., 57. Louvet, Riiv. M^m., xlvi., 73. 
 
 t Lac, i., 296, 298. Th., iii., 127. 
 
 t The circular sent on this occa.sion by the municipality 
 of Paris to the other cities of France is one of the most cu- 
 rious historical monuments of the Revolution. It conclu- 
 ded with these words : " Bein;; informed tliat liordes of bar- 
 barians were Jidvancing against it, the municipality of Paris 
 lost no time in informinsf its brethren in all the otlier de- 
 partments that a part of the conspirators confined in the 
 prisons has been p\it to death by the people ; an act of jus- 
 tice which appeared indispensable, to retain in due subjec- 
 tion the legions of traitors within its walls, at the moment 
 when the principal forces of the city were about to march 
 against the enemy. Without doubt, the nation at large, af- 
 ter the long series of trea.sons which have brought it to the 
 edge of the abyss, will adopt the same means, at once so 
 useful and so necessary ; and all the French will be able to 
 say, like the people of Paris, We march against the enemy, 
 and we leave none behind us to murder our wives and chil- 
 dren."' (Signed), " Duplaiu, Panis, Sergent, Lenfant Marat, 
 Lefort, .lordeuil, administratoi-s of the committee of surveil- 
 lance, established at the mayor's." — See Thiers, in., 85, 86. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 141 
 
 The i^lunder arising from tlie property of so 
 
 ■E. manv victims procured immense 
 
 Enormous "'"-".» ^ \, ^ . . ,.^ r ti ■ 
 
 plunder by wealth to the municipality oi Tans. 
 the raunici- Not only was the plate of the church- 
 pality of es^ and all the movables of the emi- 
 Pans. grants, seized by their ordeis, but the 
 
 whole effects of the prisoners massacred in the 
 prisons were by them put under sequestration, 
 and deposited in the vast wareliouses belonging 
 to the committee of surveillance. 
 
 Neither the assembly, nor the convention, nor 
 any other authority, ever could obtain from them 
 either an account of the amount of this plunder, 
 or how it was disposed of The magistrates 
 went a step farther, and of their own authority 
 sold the furniture of all the great hotels, on which 
 the national seal had been put, in consequence 
 of the emigration of their proprietors. The min- 
 ister of the interior was unable to prevent those 
 scandalous abuses : all the inferior agents of au- 
 thority were in the interest of the raunicipalit}- ; 
 and the National Guards, remodelled under the 
 title of armed sections, and composed of the 
 most worthless classes, were in a state of com- 
 plete disorganization. One night the jewel-of- 
 fice in the Tuileries was pillaged, and all the 
 splendid ornaments of the crown disappeared 
 forever. The seals affixed on the locks were 
 removed, but no marks of violence appeared on 
 them, which clearly showed the abstraction was 
 done by order of the authorities, and not by pop- 
 ular violence. One of the finest jewels after- 
 ward appeared in the hands of Sergent, one of 
 the committee who signed the circular calling 
 upon the rest of France to imitate the massacres 
 of the prison.s in Paris. Such were the first ef- 
 fects of the popular election of a magistracy in 
 the French capital.* 
 
 It was in the midst of these horrors that the 
 Teniiiiiation Legislative Assembly drew to its ter- 
 oftheLcffis- mination. Its history is full of inter- 
 lative As- est to thosc who Study the workings 
 Kcmbly. yj- jjjg human mind in periods of na- 
 tional convulsion. Its opening was preceded 
 hy a deceitful calm: the ambition of party, the 
 fury of passion, seemed for a time to be stilled, 
 and the monarch, hailed by the acclamations of 
 the multitude, tasted for a few days the sweets 
 of popular administration. The Constituent 
 Assembly had declared the Revolution finished : 
 the king had accepted the Constitution : the 
 days of anarchy Avere supposed to be passed. 
 But those who " disturb the peace of all the 
 w^orld can seldom rule it when 'tis wildest." 
 It terminated in days of bloodshed and carnage ; 
 with an imprisoned king, an absent nobility, an 
 insurgent people ; preceded by the murder of the 
 Royalist, and with the axe suspended over the 
 head of the patriotic class. The destruction 
 which its measures brought upon the higher 
 ranks was speedily, by its successor, inflicted 
 upon its own leaders. Such is the inevitable 
 march of revolutions, when the passions of the 
 multitude are brought into collision with the 
 unsupported benevolence of the philanthropic, 
 and vigour and unanimity are not displayed by 
 the friends of order and the holders of property ; 
 when reason and justice are appealed to on one 
 side, and selfish ambition arrayed on the other. 
 With less discussion on abstract rights and 
 more attention to present dangers, with less spec- 
 ulation and more action, it might have arrested 
 the progress of the Revolution: a vigorous pros- 
 
 National 
 
 ention. 
 
 ecution of the victory in the Champs de Mars, a 
 charge of 500 horse in the Place of the Carrou- 
 sel on August 10th, would have prevented the 
 overthrow of the throne, and extinguished the 
 reign of Robespierre.* 
 
 The Nation.'il Convention began under dark- 
 er auspices. The 10th of August had 
 given the ascendant of victory to the ^^^" 
 j Democratical class; the great and inert 
 mass of the people were disposed, as in all com- 
 motions, to range themselves on the victorious 
 side. The sections of Paris, under the influence 
 of Robespierre and Marat, returned the most 
 revolutionary deputies ; those of most other 
 towns followed their example.t 
 
 The Jacobins, with their affiliated clubs, ou 
 this occasion exercised an overwhelming influ- 
 ence over all France. The parent club at Paris 
 had, with this view, printed and circulated, in 
 every department, lists of all the voles passed 
 during the session, to instruct the electors. All 
 the deputies who had voted against the desires 
 of the popular party, and especially all such as 
 had acquitted La Fayette, were particularly 
 pointed out for rejection. At Paris, the violent 
 leaders of the municipality who had organized 
 the revolt of August lOth exercised an irresisti- 
 ble sway over the citizens. Robespierre and 
 Danton were the first named, amid unanimous 
 shouts of applause; after these, Camille Des- 
 moulins, Fabre d'Eglantine, David the celebra- 
 ted painter, Collot d'Herbois, Billaud Varennes, 
 Legendre, Panis, Sergent, almost all implicated 
 in the massacres in the prisons, were also chosen. 
 To these was added the Duke of Orleans, who 
 had abdicated his titles, and was called Philippe 
 Egalite.; 
 
 The first measure of the convention was to 
 abolish the monarchy and' proclaim a 
 Republic. The calendar was changed: ^^|'|"^*^' 
 it was no longer the fourth year of liberty, 
 but the first year of the French Republic. But 
 no sooner were these great measures ad(?pted, 
 than the furj-of the party broke out with redoub- 
 led violence : the contending factions seemed 
 each desirous of placing itself at the head of the 
 popular insurrection, recently become the ruling 
 power. These two parties were the Girondists 
 and the Jacobins. Their strife soon assumed an 
 envenomed character : their principles were ut- 
 terly incompatible : life or death hung on the 
 issue of the struggle.! 
 
 The Girondists were the philosophers of the 
 Revolution. Their ideas were often character 
 grand and generous, drawn from the of the Gi- 
 heroes of Greece and Rome, or the rondists. 
 more enlarged philanthropy of modern times ; 
 their language ever indulgent and seducing to 
 the people ; their principles those which gave its 
 early popularity and its immense celebrity to the 
 Revolution. But they judged of mankind by a 
 false standard : their ruinous error consisted in 
 supposing that the multitude could be regulated 
 by the motives which influenced the austere pa- 
 triots whom the)' numbered among their own 
 body. An ab.stract sense of justice, a passion 
 for general equality, a repugnance for violent 
 governments, distinguished their speeches; but 
 yet from their innovations has sprung the most 
 oppressive tyranny of modern times, and they 
 were at last found joining in many measures of 
 
 .> 
 
 Th., lii, 129, 131. 
 
 * Lac, Pr., Hist., i., 108, and Hist. France, ix., 149, 230. 
 t Lac, i., 299. t Th., hi., 131, 133. 
 
 1) Mig., i., 212. Lac, Pr. Hisl,, ii,, 5. Th., iii., 150. 
 
142 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 the most flagrant ini(}uity. The dreadful war, 
 which ravaged Europe lor twenty years, was 
 provoked by tlieir declaiiuUions; the death of 
 the liiiii,', the overthrow ol ihe throne, the Reign 
 of Terror, dowed from the prineiples whicli tliey 
 promulgated. It is no apology for such conduct 
 to allege that they were sincere in their desire 
 for a republic and the happiness of France: the 
 coininon proverb, that " Hell is jjaved with good 
 intentions," shows how generally perilous con- 
 duct, even when flowing from pure motives, is 
 found to lead to the most disastrous consequen- 
 ces. They were too often, in their political 
 career, reckless and inconsiilerate ; and thence 
 their eloquence antl genius only rendered them 
 the more dangerous, from the multitudes who 
 were indueneed by such alluring expressions. 
 Powerful in raising the tempest, they were feeble 
 and irresolute in allaying it ; invincible in suf- 
 fering, heroic in death, they were destitute of the 
 energy and practical experience requisite to avert 
 disaster. l"he Democrats supported them as long 
 as they urged forward the Revolution, and be- 
 came their bitterest enemies as soon as ihey 
 strove to allay its fury. They were constantly 
 misled by expecting that intelligence was to be 
 found among the lower orders; lliat reason and 
 justice would prevail with the multitude; and as 
 constantly disappointed by experiencing the in- 
 variable ascendant of passion or interest among 
 their popular supporters — the usual error of ele- 
 vated and generous minds, and which so i're- 
 quently unfits them for the actual administration 
 of atlairs. Their tenets would have led them to 
 support the constitutional throne ; but they were 
 unable to stem the torrent of Democralical I'ury 
 Avhich they themselves had excited, and com- 
 pelled, to avert still greater disasters, to concur 
 in many cruel measures alike contrary to their 
 wishes and their principles. The leaders of this 
 party were Vcrgniaud, Brissot, and Roland ; 
 men of powerful eloquence, generous philanthro- 
 
 {)V, and Roman firmness; who knew now to die, 
 )Ul not to live; who perished because they want- 
 ed the audacity and wickedness requisite lor suc- 
 cess in a revolution.* 
 
 The radical and inherentviceof this party was 
 their irreligion ; and the dreadful misfortunes in 
 ■which they involved their country proves how 
 inadequate the most splendid talents are to the 
 management of human allairs, or the right dis- 
 charge of social duty, without that overruling 
 principle. With all tlieir love of justice, they 
 declared Louis guilty; with all their humanity, 
 they voted for his death. The peasants of La 
 Vendee, who trusted only to the rule of duty pre- 
 scribed in their religion, were never betrayed in 
 the same manner into acts for which no apology 
 can be found. Whenever statesmen abandon 
 the plain rules of duty and justice, and base their 
 conduct on the quicksands of supposed expedi- 
 ence, they arc involved in a series of errors 
 •which quickly precipitate them into the most 
 serious crimes. But the greatest elforts of hu- 
 man wisdom or virtue are unequal to direct or 
 sustain the mind in the tiying scenes which a 
 revolution induces: it is the belief of futurity, 
 and a sense of religion alone, which can support 
 humanity in such calamities; and their want of 
 such principles rendered all the genius and phi- 
 lanthropy of the Girondists of no practical avail 
 in stemnainsr all the disasters of the Revolution.t 
 
 * Mig.. i., 213, 21 1. Buzot, 84. 
 t Hist, de la Conv., i., 142, H3. 
 
 The Girondists had no point of assemblage, 
 like the well-disciplined forces of their adver- 
 saries; but their leaders liequently met at the 
 parties of Madame Roland, where all the ele- 
 gance which the Revolution had left, and all the 
 talent which it had devek)ped, were wont to as- 
 semble. This remarkable woman, by the con- 
 curring testimony of all her contemporaries, ex- 
 ercised a powerful influence over the fortunes of 
 her country. The fire of her genius, the warmth 
 of her feeling, the elocjucnce of her language, en- 
 abled her to maintain an undisputed ascendency 
 even over the greatest men in France. She lived 
 to lament the crimes perpetrated in the name of 
 liberty, and died a victim to her conjugal fideli- 
 ty, evincing in her last moments a degree of in- 
 trepidity rarely paialleled even in the annals of 
 female heroism, and which, had it been general 
 in her party, might liave stifled the Reign of 
 Tenor in its birth.* 
 
 Vergniaud was the most eloquent speaker of 
 the Gironde, but he had not the vigour 
 or resolution requisite for the leader Verl'maud" 
 of a party in troubled times. Passion, 
 in general, had little influence over his mind : he 
 was humane, gentle, and benevolent ; difficult to 
 rouse to exertion, and still more to be convinced 
 of the wickedness either of his adversaries or a 
 large part of his supporters. But when great 
 occasions arose, and the latent energy of his mind 
 was roused, he })oured forth his generous thoughts 
 in streams of eloquence which never have been 
 equalled in the French assembly. It was not, 
 like that of Mirabeau, broken and emphatic, 
 adapted to the changing temper of the audience 
 he addressed; but uniformly elegant, sonorous, 
 and flowing, swelling at times into the highest 
 strains of impassioned oratory. That such a 
 man should have been unable to rule the con- 
 vention only proves how unlit a body, elected as 
 they were, is to rule the destinies of a great na- 
 tion.t 
 
 Gaudet was more animated than Vergniaud: 
 he seized with more readiness the chan- 
 ges of the moment, and preserved his "" ^'" 
 presence of mind more completely during the 
 stormy discussions of the assembly. Gensonne, 
 with inferior talents for speaking, was neverthe- 
 less looked up to as a leailer of his party from 
 his firmness and resolution of character. Bar- 
 baroux, a native of the south of France, B„baroux 
 brought to the strife of faction the ar- 
 dent temperament of his sunny climate; reso- 
 lute, sagacious, and daring, he early divined the 
 bloody (lesigns of the Jacobins, but was unable 
 to prevail on his associates to adopt the despe- 
 rate measures which he soon foresaw would be 
 necessary to give them anything like an equali- 
 ty in the strife.! 
 
 Verv different was the character of the Jaco- 
 bins, that terrible faction, whose crimes 
 have stained the annals of France with ^^jj,^^ '"^" 
 such unheard-of atrocities. Their ori- 
 gin draws back to the struggles in 1789, when a 
 certain number of deputies from the provinces 
 met in the convent of the Jacobins, formerly the 
 seat of the Assemblies of the League. The pop- 
 ularity of the club soon attracted the most au- 
 dacious and able of the Democratic parly: the 
 nave of the church was transformed into a hall 
 for the meeting of the members ; and the seat of 
 the president made of the top of a Gothic mon- 
 
 * Lac, ii., 14, 15. Roland, i., 18, 19. 
 
 t Th., iii., 137, 138. 
 
 t Tb., iii., 138, 139. j.^ 
 
1792] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 14» 
 
 ument of black marble, which stood against the 
 ■vvalls. The tribune, liom whence tlie orators 
 addressed the assembly, consisted of two beams 
 placed across each other like a half-constructed 
 scaflbld ; behind it were suspended from the 
 walls the ancient instruments of torture — the un- 
 attended to, but fitting accompaniments of such 
 a scene ; numbers of bats at night flitted through 
 its vast and gloomy vaults, and by their screams 
 interrupted the din of the meeting. Such was 
 the strife of contending voices, that muskets 
 were discharged at intervals to produce a tem- 
 porary cessation of the tumult. A great number 
 of affiliated societies, in all the great towns of 
 France, early gave this club a decided prepon- 
 derance : the eloquence of Mirabcau thundered 
 under its roof ; and all the principal insurrec- 
 tions of the Revolution were prepared by its 
 leaders.* 
 
 The revolts of the 11th of July, the 20th of 
 June, and the 10th of August, were openly dis- 
 cussed, long before they took place, in tlie hall of 
 the Jacobins; there were rehearsed all the great 
 changes c)f the drama which were shortly after- 
 ward to be acted in the assembly. The massa- 
 cres of the 2d of September alone appear to have 
 been unprepared by them; their infamy rests 
 with Danton and the municipality of Paris. As 
 usual in Democratic assemblies, the most vio- 
 lent and outrageous soon acquired an ascenden- 
 cy ; the mob applauded those who were loudest 
 in the assertion of the sovereignty of the people. 
 Fifteen hundred members usually attended its 
 meetings; a tew lamps only lighted the vast ex- 
 tent of the room ; the members appeared, for the 
 most part, in shabby attire; and the galleries 
 were filled witli the lowest of the populace. In 
 this den of darkness were prepared the bloody 
 lists of proscription and massacre ; the meetings 
 were opened with revolutionary songs, and 
 shouts of applause followed each addition to the 
 list of murder, each account of its perpetration 
 by the affiliated societies. Never was a man of 
 honour, seldom a man of virtue, admitted with- 
 in this society; it had a secret horror for every 
 one who was not attached to its fortunes by the 
 hellish bond of committed wickedness. A rob- 
 ber, an assassin, was certain of admission, as sure 
 as the victim of their violence was of rejection. 
 The well-known question put to the entrants, 
 " What have you done to be hanged if the an- 
 cient rtgime is restored V exemplifies at once 
 the bond which held them together. Their place 
 of meeting was adorned with anarchical sym- 
 bols, tricolour flags, and busts of the leading rev- 
 olutionists of former times. Long before the 
 death of Louis XVI., two portraits, adorned with 
 garlands, of Jacques Clement and Ravaillac, 
 were hung on the walls ; immediately below was 
 the date of the murder whith each had commit- 
 ted, with the words, " He was fortunate ; he kill- 
 ed a king." Inferior to their adversaries in learn- 
 ing, eloquence, and taste, they were infinitely 
 their superiors in the arts of popularity ; they 
 succeeded with the mob, because they knew by 
 experience the means of moving the mass from 
 which they sprung. Reason, justice, humanity, 
 Avere never appealed to; flatteiy, agitation, arid 
 terror, constituted their never-failing methods of 
 seduction. The extreme of democracy was the 
 form of government which they supported, be- 
 cause it was most grateful to the indigent cla.ss 
 on whom they depended ; but nothing was far- 
 
 * Toul., ii., 232, and v., 137. Chateaub., Uim., 76. 
 
 ther from their intentions than to share with, 
 others the power which they so strenuously 
 sought for themselves. The greatest levellers 
 in theory, they became the most absolute tyrants 
 in practice ; having nothing to lose, they were 
 utterly reckless in their measures of aggrandize- 
 ment ; restrained by no feelings of conscience, 
 they reaped for a time the fruits of audacious 
 wickedness. The leaders of this party were 
 Danton, Marat, Robespierre, Billaud Varennes, 
 St. Just, and CoUot d'Herbois — names destined 
 to acquire an execrable celebrity in French an- 
 nals ; whose deeds will never be forgotten so long 
 as the voice of conscience is heard in the human 
 heart ; who have done more to destroy the cause 
 of freedom, than all the tyrants who have prece- 
 ded them.* 
 
 From the first opening of the convention, the 
 Girondists occupied the right, and the Jacobins 
 the seats on the summit of the left, whence their 
 designation of " The Mountain" was derived. 
 The former had the majority of votes, the great- 
 er part of the departments having returned mea 
 of comparatively moderate principles; but the 
 latter possessed a great advantage in having on 
 their side all the members of the city of Paris, 
 who ruled the mob, always ready to crowd at 
 their call round the doors of the assembly, and 
 in being supported by the municipality, which 
 had already grown into a ruling power in the 
 state, and had become the great centre of the 
 Democratic party. A neutral body, composed 
 of those members whose principles were not yet 
 declared, was called the Plain of Marais: it 
 ranged itself with the Girondists until terror 
 compelled its members to coalesce with the vic- 
 torious side.t 
 
 Connected with the parent club of the Jaco- 
 bins at Paris, were a multitude of af- j„a„^„^ <• 
 „, . , . '. . -111 ininience ot 
 
 filiated societies in every considerable the Jacobia 
 town of France, who trained up dis- clubs in 
 ciples for the parent establishment, Fran'c. 
 disseminated its principles, and sent up contin- 
 ual supplies of energetic ambition to feed the 
 flame in the capital. The magistracy also had 
 established relations with all the municipalities 
 of France, who, elected by almost universal suf- 
 frage, had generally fallen, as in all civil convul- 
 sions, into the hands of the most violent party. 
 The Jacobins, therefore, ruled the whole effective 
 power of the slate; nothing remained to the Gi- 
 rondists but the ministry, who, thwarted by the 
 municipality, had no authority in Paris. The 
 army, raised during the excitement of the Revo- 
 lution, could not be trusted against the popular 
 leaders ; if it could, the distance at which it was 
 placed, and its active occupation on the frontier, 
 precluded it from being of any service in resist- 
 ing the insurrections of the capital. t 
 
 The two rival parties mutually indulged in re- 
 criminations, in order to influence the w , 
 public mind. The Jacobins inces- criminations 
 santly reproached the Girondists with of the Giion- 
 desiring to dissolve the Republic ; to ^ists and 
 establish three-and-twenty separate •'•'-"•^'"s. 
 Democratic states, held together, like the Amer- 
 ican proA'inces, by a mere federal imion ; and 
 though this design was never seriously enter- 
 tained by them, except when the advance of the 
 Duke of Brunswick threatened to lead to the cap- 
 ture of Paris, the imprudent conversations of 
 Brissot, and other leaders of the party, and the 
 
 * Toul., v., 139. Lac, ii., 10. Mig.,i.,214. Buzot,72, 
 4. Hist, de la Conv., i., 110, 112. Chatraub., Mem., 76. 
 t Mig., i., 215. t Mig-, i., 216. Lac, ji., 10. 
 
144 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 extravagant admiration which they always pro- 
 fessed for the institutions of America, were suffi- 
 cient to give a colour to the accusation. Nothing 
 more was requisite to render them in the highest 
 degree unpopular in Paris, the very existence 
 of which depended on its remaining, through all 
 the phases of government, the seat of the ruling 
 power. The Girondists retorted upon their ad- 
 versaries charges better founded, but not so like- 
 ly to inflame the populace. They reproached 
 them with endeavouring to establish in the mu- 
 nicipality of Paris a power superior to the legis- 
 lature of all France ; with overawing the delib- 
 erations of the convention by menacing peti- 
 tions, or the open display of brute force ; and 
 secretly preparing for their favourite leaders, 
 Danton, Robespiene, and Marat, a triumvirate 
 of power, which would speedily extinguish all 
 the freedom which had been acquired. The first 
 part of the accusation was well founded even 
 then; of the last, time soon aflbrded an ample 
 confirmation.* 
 
 One of the first cares of the convention was the 
 Sept. 23. state of the finances. From the report 
 State of of M. Cambon, the minister of finance, 
 linances. jj appeared that the preceding assemblies 
 had authorized the fabrication of two thousand 
 seven hundred millions of a'ssignats, or above 
 ^6130,000,000 sterling ; a prodigious sum to have 
 been issued in three years of almost continued 
 peace, and clearly demonstrating that the reve- 
 nue, Irom its ordinary sources, had almost en- 
 tii'ely disappeared. Of this immense fund, how- 
 ever, only twenty-four millions remained. A 
 new issue, therefore, became indispensable, and 
 was immediately ordered, on the security of the 
 national domains, which were continually in- 
 creasing, and now embraced more than two 
 thirds of the landed property of France, from the 
 continued confiscation of the estates of the emi- 
 grants.t 
 
 A still more Democratic constitution than that 
 ^ framed by the Constituent and Legisla- 
 Sept. _4. jj^.g Assemblies was at the same time 
 established. All the requisites for election to 
 any offices whatev'er were, on the motion of the 
 Diike of Orleans, abolished. It was no longer 
 necessar}' to select judges from legal men, nor 
 magistrates from the class of proprietors. All 
 persons, in whatever rank, were declai-ed eligible 
 to ever)' station; and the right of voting in the pri- 
 marj' assemblies conferred on every man above 
 the age of twenty-one 3-ears. Absolute equality, 
 in its literal sense, was universally established.t 
 
 Roland, at the same time, gave a frightful pic- 
 ture of the massacres wliicli the Jacobin emis- 
 saries had spread over all France. " The disor- 
 ders of Paris," said he, •' have been too faithfully 
 imitated in the departments. It is not anarchy 
 which is to be accused for these calamities, but 
 tyrants of a new species, who have sprung up in 
 our newly enfranchised France. It is from Paris 
 that these daily incitements to murder proceed. 
 How can we preserve the people from the most 
 frightful miser}', when so many citizens are 
 obliged to remain in concealment for fear of 
 their lives; when invitations to pillage, murder, 
 rapine, and lists of proscription, daily appear on 
 the walls of the capital 1 How shall we frame 
 a constitution for France, if the convention 
 charged with it deliberates under the daggers of 
 assassins V After a vehement debate, a decree 
 aa:ainst the instigators to murder, and for the es- 
 
 tablishment of a departmental guard, was pass- 
 ed, but subsequent events prevented it from be- 
 ing ever carried into execution.* 
 
 The Girondists, foreseeing the character of 
 Robespierre, directed their first attacks Accusation 
 against him. O.sselin and Barbaroux of Marat by 
 publicly accused him of aspiring to the the Giron- 
 dictatorship; but the leaders of their ''"''*■ 
 party, not )-et aware of the necessity of vigor- 
 ous measures against so desperate an adversaiy, 
 quashed the proceeding. Marat wa.s next the ob- 
 ject of accusation; a thrill of horror ran througli 
 the convention when he appeared before them : 
 the massacres which he had so strenuously rec- 
 ommended in his journal, " L'Ami du Peuple," 
 were still fresh in the recollections of the depu- 
 ties. Vergniaud read a number of that journal, 
 where it was coldly calculated that seventy thou- 
 sand heads must fall before liberty could be es- 
 tablished : the galleries openly applauded the 
 proposal. Another of the Girondists soon after 
 read another paper, published a few days before 
 by the accused, in which he said, " One consid- 
 eration alone overwhelms me. and that is, that 
 all my eflbrts to save the people will come to 
 nothing without a new insuiTection. When I 
 behold the temper of the majority of the deputies 
 in the National Convention, I despair of the pub- 
 lic safety. If during its eight first sittings, the 
 foundations of a constitution are not laid, nothing 
 more need be expected from its labours. Fifty 
 years of anarchy await you, from which you will 
 never emerge but by the hands of a dictator, a 
 true patriot and statesman. O ! misguided peo- 
 ple, if )'ou but knew how to act." At these words 
 furious cries interrupted the speaker, some ap- 
 plauding, others exclaiming, " To the Abbaj-e ! 
 to the guillotine !"t 
 
 Marat mounted the tribune to reply ; it was 
 the first time he had been seen there, and such 
 was the honor at his aspect, that it was long be- 
 fore he could obtain a hearing. He acknowl- 
 edged the writing to be his, however, and refused 
 to disavow its contents. " To ask me to retract," 
 he added, " is to insist that I should shut my eyes 
 to what I see, and my ears to what I hear ;' there 
 is no power on earth which can force me to such 
 a change of ideas : I can answer for the purity of 
 my heart, but 1 cannot change my thoughts ; the}' 
 have sprang from the nature of things." The 
 Jacobins, with tumultuous shouls, testiiied their 
 applause ; many irresolute members, horror- 
 struck at the proscriptions, but yet terrified at 
 their authors, quitted the assembly. The ac- 
 cused, perceiving his advantage, drew a pistol 
 from his pocket: '-Blush I'' he exclaimed, "for 
 your rashness in thus accusing the patriots : If 
 the proposal for an accusation be carried, I will 
 blow out my brains at the foot of the tribune. 
 Such is the reward of my labours, my sufferings, 
 my miser}', in the cause of the people !" The 
 convention concealed its fear under the mask 
 of contempt, and, on the motion of Tallien, voted 
 that the Republic was one and indivisible, and 
 dismissed the accused unpunished, to reap the 
 fraits of a real victor}'.! 
 
 A more formidable accusation was shortly af- 
 terward brought foiAvard by Louvet, Louvet ar- 
 one of the ablest and most intrepid raigns Robes- 
 leaders of the Gironde. Roland, as pierre. 
 minister of the interior, had made a luminous 
 
 * Tb., iii., 142, 145. t Th., iii., 151. i Th., iii., 150. 
 
 * Th., iii., 152, 155. 
 
 t Mig., 218, 219 Lac, ii.. 6, 8. Th., iii., 163. 
 i Lac, ii., 8, 9. Th., iii., 167, 170. Hist, de la Conr., i., 
 5, 76 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 145 
 
 gtatement of the situation of the metropolis, in 
 which he had boldly exposed the sanguinary 
 measures of the commune. '= When the princi- 
 ples of revolt and carnage," said he, " are open- 
 ly avowed and applauded, not only in clubs, but 
 in the bosom of the convention, who can doubt 
 that some hidden partisans of the ancient regime, 
 some pretended triends of the people, veiling 
 their wickedness under the mask of patriotism, 
 have conceived the design of overturning the 
 constitution, and slaking their thirst for blood 
 and gold in the midst of public ruinT' He then 
 read a letter from the president of the sefcond 
 section of the Criminal Tribunal, announcing 
 that his own life and that of his colleagues were 
 menaced, and that, in the language of the times, 
 a neu' bleeding was required for the state. At 
 this announcement, all eyes were turned to 
 Robespierre, who immediately mounted the tri- 
 bune, and exclaimed, " No one will dare to ac- 
 cuse me to my face." " I am he who accuses 
 you," said Louvet, with a firm voice and un- 
 shrinking eye : "yes, Robespierre, I accuse you." 
 The tyrant was moved at tlie glance of his ad- 
 versary, whose talent and courage he had pre- 
 viously experienced in the hall of the Jacobins. 
 Louvet then, in an energetic and eloquent 
 speech, traced the character and actions of his 
 opponent. He followed Robespierre to the club 
 of the Jacobins, the municipality, the Electoral 
 Assembly, eternally calumniating his adversa- 
 ries and flattering the mob; taking advantage 
 of the passions of a blind multitude, urging it at 
 pleasure to every excess ; insulting in its name 
 the majesty of the legislature, and compelling 
 the sovereign power to issue the decrees he 
 commanded, under the pain of rebellion ; order- 
 ing, though unseen, the murders and robberies 
 of September, to support the usurpation of the 
 municipality by means of terror ; sending emis- 
 saries through all France to instigate the com- 
 mission of similar crimes, and induce the prov- 
 inces to follow the example and obey the author- 
 ity of Paris ; incessantly occupied with his own 
 praises, and magnifying the grandeur and pow- 
 er of the people from •uhom he sprung. " The 
 glory of the revolt of the 10th of August," he 
 added, "is common to all; but the glory of the 
 massacres of September 2d belongs to you. On 
 you and your associates may the)^ rest forever. 
 The people of Paris know how to combat, biit 
 not how to murder; they were seen in a body 
 before the Tuileries on the glorious 10th of Au- 
 gust, but a few hundred assassins alone perpe- 
 trated the massacres of September. The elo- 
 quence of Roland spoke in vain ; the tutelary 
 arm of Petion was enchained ; Danlon refused 
 to move ; the presidents of the sections waited 
 for orders from the general in command, which 
 never arrived ; the officers of the municipality, 
 with their official scarfs, presided at the execu- 
 tions ; and the orders you had given were too fa- 
 tally obeyed."* 
 
 The assembly was strongly moved by the elo- 
 „ , ^ quence of Louvet, but he was feebly 
 Rubespierre. supported by his friends among the 
 Girondists. He repeatedly appealed 
 to Petion, Vergniaud, and the other leaders, to 
 support his statements, but they had not the firm- 
 ness to state boldly the truth. Had they testified 
 a fourth part of what they knew, the accusation 
 must have been instantly voted, and the tyrant 
 strangled in his cradle. As: it was, Robespierre, 
 
 Mig., i., 224. Lac, ii., 17. Th., iu., 213 
 
 fearful of its effects, demanded eight days to pre- 
 pare for his defence. In the interv^al, the whole 
 engines of terror A^-ere put in force : the Jaco- 
 bins thundered out accusations against the in- 
 trepid accuser, and all the leaders of the Mount- 
 ain were indefatigable in their efforts to strike 
 terror into their opponents. By degrees the im- 
 pression cooled, and the accused momited the 
 tribune at its close with the air of a victor. The 
 deputies came to regard the accusation as a pii- 
 vate quarrel between Louvet and Robespierre, 
 and felt no apprehension for a man whom they 
 regarded, as Barere said, " as a man of the day 
 — a little mover of discord."* 
 
 In the conclusion of his address, which was 
 nervous and forcible, Robespierre observed, iu 
 allusion to the massacres of September 2d, 
 "Without doubt," said he, "the massacres in the 
 prisons were illegal ; but Avhat was the revolt on 
 the 10th of August or on the I4th of July 1 If 
 we are to go back to what is legal, who can de- 
 fend the Revolution, or save you all from a con- 
 viction for high treason 1 Beware how, by such 
 doctrines, you cast a doubt on the origin of your 
 ovm power. Without illegal measures, despot- 
 ism never yet was shaken : for what sovereign 
 wall establish legal forms for his own overthrow ■? 
 It is said that an iimocent individual has perish- 
 ed. The number of the sufferers has been great- 
 ly exaggerated ; but, supposing there was one, it 
 was doubtless too much. He was perhaps a 
 good citizen, one of our best friends. Weep for 
 him — weep even for the unworthy citizens who 
 have fallen under the sword of popular justice ; 
 but let your grief, as every human thing, have a 
 termination. But let us, at the same time, re- 
 serve some tears for more touching calamities : 
 weep ! a hundred thousand citizens sacrificed by 
 tyranny ! weep ! our fellow-citizens massacred 
 in their cradles or in the arms of their mothers ! 
 Have you no brothers, or cliildi-en, or wives to 
 revenge "? The family of French legislators i.s 
 their comitrj^ — is the whole human race, except- 
 ing tyrants and their supporters. Weep, then, 
 humanity debased under an odious yoke ; but be 
 consoled by the reflection that, by calming un- 
 worthy discord, you will secure the happiness 
 of your own coimtry, and prepare that of the 
 world." DiWded by opposite opinions, the as- 
 sembly willingly closed with the proposal of 
 Robespierre to put an end to these personal alter- 
 cations, and pass to the order of the day. Bar- 
 baroux and Lanjuinais vainly endeavoured to 
 maintain the accusation ; the leaders of the Gi- 
 ronde themselves, irresolute in action, hesitated 
 to support them. " If, indeed," said Barere, 
 " there existed in the Republic a man bom vnth. 
 the genius of Caesar or the boldness of Crom- 
 well ; if there was to be found here a man with 
 the talent of Sylla, and his dangerous means of 
 elevation ; if we had among us a legislator of 
 vast ability, boundless ambition, and profound 
 dissimulation; a general, for example, return- 
 ing loaded with laurels, to dictate laws to your, 
 choice, or insult the rights of the people, I would 
 be the first to propose against him a decree of 
 accusation. But let us cease to waste our time 
 on men who Mill fill no place in history ; let us 
 not put pigmies on pedestals ; the civic crowns 
 of Robespierre are mingled Math cypress." They 
 flattered themselves that a simple passing to the 
 order of the day would extinguish his influence 
 as completely as exile or death, and actually join- 
 
 * Louvet, 52. 
 
146 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 ed with the Jacobins in preventing the reply of 
 Louvet: a fatal error, which France had cause 
 to lament in tears of blood.* 
 
 h was now evident tliat the Girondists were 
 no match for their terrible adversaries. The 
 men of action on their side, Louvet, Barbaroux, 
 and Lanjuinais, in vain strove to rouse them to 
 the necessity of vigorous measures in contend- 
 ing Willi such enemies. Their constant reply 
 was, that they woukl not be the first to com- 
 mence the shedding of blood. Their whole vig- 
 our consisted in declamation ; their whole wis- 
 dom in abstract discussion. Moderate in coun- 
 sel, humane in intention, they were hlted to add 
 to the pro.speritj^of a republic in peace, but total- 
 ly unequal to tne task of guiding it in periods of 
 agitation. They were too honourable to believe 
 in the wickedness of their opponents, too scru- 
 pulous to adopt the measures requisite to crush 
 them. When warned of the necessity of striking 
 a decisive blow, they replied with the most de- 
 plorable sangfroid, that it was better not to irri- 
 tate men of a violent temperament.t The only 
 weapons they could be prevailed on to employ 
 were reason and eloquence, while their adversa- 
 ries were daily sharpening their poniards. "It 
 were easy to foresee," says Louvet, " what would 
 be the issue of such a contest." 
 
 The measures of the Girondists, intended to 
 The Giron- Support the Constitution, and crush 
 dists pro- the ascendency of the Jacobin fac- 
 pose to raise tion, were not more fortunate or ably 
 a guard for (directed than their accusations of in- 
 tion.'^°"*''°" dividuals. Buzot proposed to estab- 
 lish a guard, specially for the protec- 
 tion of the convention, drawn from young men 
 chosen from the ditierent departments. Barba- 
 roux at the same time brought forward four de- 
 crees, ably conceived, which, if carried into ex- 
 ecution, would have efi'ectually overthrown the 
 usurpations of the municipality. By the first, the 
 capital was to cease to be the seat of the legisla- 
 ture when it lost its claim to their presence by 
 failing to protect them from insult. By the sec- 
 ond, the troops of the Federos and the national 
 cavalry were to be charged, along with the arm- 
 ed sections, with the protection of the legisla- 
 ture. By the third, the convention was to con- 
 stitute itself into a court of justice for the trial 
 of all conspirators against its authority. By the 
 fourth, the convention suspended the munici- 
 pality of Paris. This would have established 
 an effectual counterpoise to the influence of the 
 populace of Paris, and have been a decisive 
 blow to the Jacobins and municipality of that 
 city. Robespierre combated the proposal with 
 all his force. " Paris is now tranquil," said he. 
 " The blood of September 2d is yet reeking," re- 
 plied Vergniaud: "the authority of the con- 
 vention is now universally respected." " You 
 yourself daily call it in question in your sedi- 
 tious assemblies, your sanguinary journals." 
 " Such a decree would be a libel on the people 
 of Paris." " They groan, as well as ourselves, 
 under the assassins who oppress them." " You 
 wish to create a tyranny." " On the contrarv, 
 we strive to put an end to 3'ours." " You would 
 establish a prcetorian band." "You rule by 
 means of a horde of brigands." "You are 
 treading in the steps of Sylla." " You have the 
 ambition of Cromwell." These angry recrimi- 
 nations had no effect but to divert the assembly 
 
 *Louvet,56. Mig..i.,224. Th.,iii.,229. Lac, ii., 18, 19. 
 t Louvet, 56, 57 Th., iii., 231. 
 
 ; from the importance of the real subject at issue, 
 and, fearful of present dangei', they rejected the 
 only means of avoiding it in future, by deliver- 
 ing themselves, unprotected, to the mob of the 
 capital.* Thus the ministry irritated the Jaco- 
 bins without crushing them, and manifested 
 their distrust in the populace without providing 
 any counterpoise to their violence. 
 
 The Jacobins skilfully availed themselves of 
 these impotent manilestations of dis- 
 trust to give additional currency to spread"the 
 the report that the Girondists intended report of a 
 to tralisport the seat of government to division of 
 the southern provinces. This rumour "^'^ Repub- 
 rapidly gained ground with the popu- 
 lace, and augmented their dislike at the minis- 
 try. Their opponents, conscious of the falsehood 
 of the accusation, treated it with contempt ; a 
 striking proof of their ignorance of the tritling 
 foundations on which popular favour or dislike 
 is founded. On every occasion, the Democrats 
 pressed for a decree in favour of the unity and 
 indivisibility of the Republic, thereby insinua- 
 ting the belief that a federal union was contem- 
 plated by their adversaries ; a project of all oth- 
 ers the most unpopular in the central city of 
 Paris, and afterward productive of the most ru- 
 inous consequences to the moderate party. t 
 
 All these preliminary struggles were essays 
 of strength by the two parties prior Preparations 
 to the grand question which was now for the trial 
 destined to attract the eyes of Europe of Louis, 
 and of the world. This was the trial of Louis 
 XVI. 
 
 The Jacobins had several motives for urging 
 this measure. By placing the king's life in per- 
 il, they hoped to compel the Girondists openly to 
 espouse his cause, and thereby ruin them with- 
 out redemption in the eyes of the people ; by en- 
 gaging the popular party in so decisive a step, 
 they knew that they would best preclude any 
 chance of return to the Royalist government. 
 They were desirous, moreover, of taking out 
 of the hands of the Girondists, and the moderate 
 part of the convention, the formation of a Re- 
 publican government; and they were probably 
 of opinion that the vengeance of the dead was 
 less to be feared than that of the living, and that 
 a dethroned king was a dangerous neighbour to 
 an infant democracy. t 
 
 To prepare the nation for this great event, and 
 familiarize them with the tragedy in violent a^i- 
 which it was intended to terminate, tation com- 
 tlie most vigorous measures were ta- menced by 
 ken by the Jacobins over all France. ^^^ Jacobms. 
 In their central club at Paris, the question Avas 
 repeatedly canvassed, and the most inflammato- 
 ry harangues were delivered, on the necessity 
 of striking a decisive blow against the Royalist 
 faction. The popular societies in the depart- 
 ments were stimulated to present addresses to 
 the convention, openly demanding the condem- 
 nation of the king. The sections of Paris imi- 
 tated their example. Dail}' petitions were heard 
 at the bar of the assembly, praying for vengeance 
 on the murderers of the 10th of August, and for 
 the death of the last tyrant. In the barbarous 
 language of the age, the president had frequent- 
 ly promised satisfaction to the numerous peti- 
 tioners who prayed, " De faire rouler la tete du 
 tyran ;"§ and. in many proclamations, the mon- 
 
 * Lac, ii., 12. 13. Ml?., i., 225. Th., iii., 221. 
 t Mig., i., 226. Th., iii., 229. Lac, ii., 14. 
 t Mig., i., 227. Lac, ii., 20. Th., ii., 375. 
 « Lac, li., 35. Mig., i., 227, 228. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 14/ 
 
 arch they were about to try had been already 
 condemned by the convention. 
 
 A discovery was at thi.s juncture made in the 
 Discovery of Tuileries, which increased to a very 
 the iron closet high degree the popular discontent at 
 in the Tuile- the untbrtunate prince. In a cavity 
 "6s. in the wall, behind a concealed iron 
 
 door, were found a great variety of secret papers 
 belonging to the court, placed there, as already 
 mentioned, by order of Louis. Evidence was 
 there discovered of the measures of Talon, the 
 agreement with Mirabeau, the propositions of 
 Bouiile, and many other secret transactions. 
 Koland had the misfortune, by giving publicity 
 to this discovery, to hasten the death olthe sover- 
 eign he was desirous to save. The papers re- 
 covered threw a doubt on the consistency of 
 many individuals on the popular side, but they 
 in no degree implicated Louis in any sinister or 
 unworthy design. They amounted merely to 
 this, that the monarch, severely pressed by his 
 enemies, and deserted by all the world, was de- 
 sirous of strengthening his party, or received 
 and entertained projects of deliverance from the 
 most zealous of his adherents. But no trace 
 Avas discovered of any intention, on his part, to 
 subvert the ConsUlntion he had sworn to main- 
 tain, or do more than extricate himself from the 
 tyranny to which, in the pretended days of free- 
 dom, he was really subjected by the Democrati- 
 cal faction.* And is the sovereign to be the 
 only person in a free country who is to be de- 
 nied the privilege of making those efforts in fa- 
 vour of his just rights which are so zealously 
 asserted for the meanest of his subjects! 
 
 The charges brought against Louis were very 
 numerous. Among others, he was accused of 
 having written to the Bishop of Clermont on the 
 16th of April, 1791, "that, if he recovered his 
 power, he would restore the clergy and the Con- 
 stitution to their ancient state ;" of having enter- 
 tained designs of betraying his oaths and over- 
 turning the Revolution ; of having corresponded 
 with the emigrant faction, whose avowed ob- 
 ject was the restoration of the ancient order of 
 things.t Of all these grounds of complaint, it 
 is sufficient to observe, that in so far as they 
 were founded in fact, they were perfectly justi- 
 fiable in the circumstances in which he was 
 placed ; but that the greater part were base 
 calumnies, equally contradicted by his virtues 
 and his irresolution; and that, if he had really 
 been actuated by the principles imputed to him, 
 he never would have been reduced to the ne- 
 cessity of vindicating himself before a popular 
 assembly. 
 
 The preliminary question which occupied the 
 Prelimina- assembly was whether Louis could 
 ry point, be legally brought to trial before them. 
 Could Lou- A committee, to whom the point was 
 IS be tried? referred for investigation, reported in 
 the affirmative. Mailhe, charged with deliver- 
 ing its report, maintained " that the inviolabili- 
 ty awarded to Louis by the Constitution was as 
 k'mg, not as an individual; that the nation had 
 supplied the inviolability of the sovereign by the 
 responsibility of his ministers ; and that, where 
 he had acted as an individual, and not through 
 them, his protection was at an end; that his de- 
 thronement was not a punishment, but a change 
 of government ; that he was now amenable to 
 the law against traitors and conspirators ; finally, 
 
 * Lac., ii., 33, 34. 
 1 Mig.,i., 228. 
 
 Mig., i., 229. Th., iii., 326, 327. 
 
 that the arraignment should be before the con- 
 vention, and not any interior court, because, as 
 it embraced all those interests which were cen- 
 tred in the maintenance of justice, it was im- 
 possible that that supreme tribunal could violate 
 justice,* and therefore needless that it should be 
 fettered by its Ibrms." 
 
 When "thi.s report was received in the assem- 
 bly, a stormy discussion arose. The partisans 
 of Louis, though obliged to profess themselves 
 satisfied of his guilt, maintained " that the invio- 
 lability was general; that the Constitution had 
 not only provided for secret hostilities on his 
 part, but open warfare, and in either alternative 
 had prescribed no other pain than dethronement; 
 that the nation had placed him on the throne on 
 these conditions ; that the convention was com- 
 missioned by the nation to change the govern- 
 ment, but not to judge the sovereign; that if the 
 rules of justice tbrbade his prosecution, much 
 more did the usages of war, which permitted no 
 severity to the vanquished but on the field of 
 battle; that the Republic had no interest in his 
 condemnation, but only in such measures as 
 were called for by the public safety, which 
 would be sufficiently secured by his detention 
 or exile." 
 
 There were not wanting, however, some depu- 
 ties who courageously supported a more humane 
 opinion. "What," said Rauzet, "was the true 
 situation of the king by the constitution of 17911 
 He was placed in presence of the national repre- 
 sentation as a rival to it. Was it not natural 
 that he should seek to recover, as much as possi- 
 ble, his lost authority 1 Did not you yourselves 
 call him to enter upon that strite with the legis- 
 lative body 1 In that contest he was overthrown, 
 and he lies now alone and bound at the feet of 
 twenty-five millions of men, and shall they have 
 the baseness to murder the vanquished 1 Has 
 not Louis repressed, beyond any other man, the 
 eternal desire for power which is so strongly 
 impressed in the hum.an heart 1 Did he not, in 
 1789, voluntarily abandon a large part of his au- 
 thority! Has he not abolished servitude in his 
 domains, adjnitted philosophers into his councils, 
 and even the empirics imposed upon him by the 
 public voice 1 Does not France owe to him the 
 convocation of the States-General, and the first 
 establishment of its political rights 1" The Gi- 
 rondists supported this opinion ; the neutral par- 
 ty was inclined to adhere to the report of the 
 committee. + 
 
 But the Jacobins openly avowed a more man- 
 ly doctrine, if such an epithet can be Debate on the 
 fitly applied to severity towards a subject in the 
 fallen enemy. " Citizens," said St. convention. 
 Just, " I ruidertake to prove that the opinions 
 advanced on both sides are equally erroneous. 
 The committee who have reported, you your- 
 selves, our adversaries, seek for forms to author- 
 ize the trial of the late king; I, on the contrary, 
 affirm that the king is to be regarded more as an 
 enemy whom we have to combat, than as a 
 criminal whom we are to judge ; the forms to be 
 observed are not those of private prosecutions, 
 but of public conflicts. Hesitation, delay, in 
 such a case, are the greatest acts of imprudence. 
 After postponing the formation of laws, no ca- 
 lamity could be so great as that of temporizing 
 with a dethroned monarch. The mere act of 
 having reigned is a crime, a usurpation which 
 nothing can absolve, which a people are culpa- 
 
 'Mig.,i.,230. |Mig.,i.,231. Th., iii., 295, 298, 305. 
 
148 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. T1. 
 
 ble for having suffered, and which invests every 
 man with a personal right of vengeance. No 
 one can reign innocently ; the very idea of such 
 a thing is ridiculous. We must treat such a 
 usurpation as kings themselves have treated all 
 attempts to dethrone them. Was not the mem- 
 or)' of Cromwell arraigned for having overturn- 
 ed the authority of Charles 1 Yet, in truth the 
 one was not more a usurper than the other ; for 
 when a people is sufficiently base to allow itself 
 to be ruled by a tyrant, power belongs of right to 
 the lii'st person who can seize it, and is not more 
 legitimate on one head than the other. The time 
 will come when the world will be astonished 
 that in the eighteenth century we should be so 
 much behind the days of Cssar: that tyrant was 
 slain in a crowded senate, without any other for- 
 mality than three-and-twenty strokes of a pon- 
 iard, and on no other warrant than the liberty of 
 Rome. And now you hesitate to engage in the 
 trial of a man, the assassin of the people, caught 
 in the vei ,' commission of his crimes. The 
 men who are charged with the judgment of 
 Louis have a republic to form ; those who scru- 
 ple at inflicting a just punishment on a king 
 will never succeed in establishing one. If the 
 Roman people, after six hundred years of hatred 
 of tyrants — il" England, after the death of Crom- 
 well, saw the race of sovereigns revive in its 
 bosom, what have all to fear among ourselves 
 who see the axe tremble in the hands of those 
 who have only just begun to wield it, and the 
 people, in the first days of their libertj^, awed 
 by the recollection of their former fetters ?" 
 Robespierre strongly supported these arguments. 
 " Consider," said he, " what audacity the ene- 
 mies of liberty have already acquired. In Au- 
 gust last the friends of liberty concealed them- 
 selves; now they boldly show themselves, and 
 demand impunit}' for a perjured tyrant. We 
 have heai'd of his virtues and benefactions. 
 While we have had the utmost difficulty in res- 
 cuing the best citizens from a precipitate accu- 
 sation, the cause of the despot alone is so sacred 
 that it cannot be too fully or patiently discussed. 
 If we are to believe his apologists, his trial will 
 last several months ; it will be protracted till 
 next spring, when the despots will execute a 
 general attack for his rescue. What a career is 
 thus opened to the conspirators ! what room af- 
 forded for the intrigues of the aristocracy ! The 
 assembly," he added, "has been unconsciously 
 led from the true question before them. There 
 is, in reality, no criminal process ; Louis is not 
 an accused party; you are not judges; )'ou are 
 and can be only statesmen ; you have not a ver- 
 dict to pronounce for or against any individual, 
 but a measure of public importance to adopt, an 
 act essential to national existence to perform. 
 A dethroned king in a republic is fit for nothing 
 but one of two objects : either to trouble the pub- 
 lic tranquillity and endanger its freedom, or to 
 confirm the one and the other. The punishment 
 of death is in general an evil, for this plain rea- 
 son, that by the unchangeable laws of Nature 
 it can only be justified by absolute necessity to 
 individuals or the social body ; and in ordinary 
 cases it can never be necessar}', because the 
 government has ample means of preventing the 
 guilty person from injuring his fellow-citizens. 
 But a dethroned king, in the midst of an ill-ce- 
 mented republic — a king whose name alone is 
 sufficient to rekindle the flames of civil war, can 
 never be an object of indifference to the public 
 safety; and that cruel exception from ordinary 
 
 rules is owing to nothing but the nature of his 
 crimes. I pronounce with regret the fatal truth; 
 but Louis must die, that France may live. 
 Louis was once a king; he is now dethroned: 
 the momentous question before you is decided 
 by these simple considerations. Louis cannot 
 be tried ; his trial is over, his condeumation re- 
 corded, or the formation of the Republic is im- 
 justifiable.* I demand that the convention shall 
 declare the king a traitor towards France, crim- 
 inal towards human nature, and instantly con- 
 demn him in virtue of the right of insurrection." 
 
 By these extreme propositions, which they did 
 not expect to carry, the Jacobins, in a Majority 
 manner, ensured the condemnation of determine 
 Louis. When such doctrines were he may be 
 once abroad, the moderate party had '"^'^• 
 no chance of success with the multitude but in 
 adopting measures of inferior severity. To have 
 contended for an absolute exemption from pun- 
 ishment would have appeared tantamoimt to 
 abandoning the whole principles of the Revolu- 
 tion. Every man felt that he could not do so 
 without endangering his own safety, and expo- 
 sing himself to the imminent hazard of shortly 
 changing places with his dethroned sovereign. t 
 
 Actuated by these motives, the majority of the 
 assembly, composed of the Giron- „ 
 
 dists and neutral party, decided that ^' ^"^^• 
 
 the king should be pvit on his trial before the 
 convention.! 
 
 Since his imprisonment in the Temple, the un- 
 fortunate monarch had been success- p d t f 
 ively abridged in his comforts, and the royal 
 the severity of his detention increased, family since 
 At first the royal family were permit- their captiv- 
 ted to spend their time together ; and, "^' 
 disengaged from the cares of government, they 
 experienced the sweetness of domestic affection 
 and parental tenderness. Attended by their faith- 
 ful servants, Clerj and aftei-ward Hue, the king 
 spent his time in teaching the dauphin the ele- 
 ments of education, the queen in discharging, 
 with the princesses, the most humble duties ; or, 
 lik's Maiy in Lochleven Castle, in large works 
 of tapestr}'. The royal party breakfasted at nine 
 in the apartment of the queen ; at one, if the day 
 was fair, they walked for an hour in the garden, 
 strictly watched by the officers of the mimicipal- 
 ity, from whom they often experienced the most 
 cruel insults. Their son evinced the most en- 
 gaging sweetness of disposition, as well as apti- 
 tude of stud}' ; bred up in the school of adversity, 
 he promised to grace the throne with the virtues 
 and energ)' of a humble station. The princess 
 royal, in the inten'als of instruction, played with 
 her brother, and softened, by every possible at- 
 tention, the severit}' of her parents' capti^aty; 
 while the Princess Elizabeth bore the horrors of 
 her prison with the same celestial equanimity 
 with which she had foimerly withstood the se- 
 ductions of beauty and the corruptions of a dis- 
 sipated court.§ 
 
 The long evenings of winter were chiefly spent 
 in reading aloud. Racine and Comeille, or his- 
 torical compositions, were the favourite study of 
 the royal family. The king perused, again and 
 again, the history of the English Rebellion by 
 Hume, and sought in the fate of Charles to pre- 
 pare his mind for the catastrophe which he was 
 well aware awaited himself His firmness seem- 
 
 * Mig., i., 232, 233. Th., iii., 300. 303, 321, 322. 
 
 t Mig., i., 233. t Mig., i., 233. Lac, ii., 30, 34. 
 
 ^ Lac., X., 133, 135. Clery, 40, 43. Th., iii., 228, 280, 
 282. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 149 
 
 ed to increase with the approach of danger; the 
 irresolution and timidity by which he was for- 
 merly distinguished totally disappeared when his 
 subjects' fate was not bound up with his own. 
 The queen herself took an example from his res- 
 olution. After dinner, the king and his family 
 slept peaceably for a short time — a touching 
 spectacle, standing as they did on the verge of 
 eternit}'. At night the dauphin said his prayers 
 to his mother: he prayed for his parents' life, and 
 for the Princess Lamballe, with whose death he 
 was unacquainted, and his instructress, the Mar- 
 quise de Tourzel. When the commissioners of 
 the commune were near, he took the precaution, 
 of his own accord, to utter the last supplications 
 in an inaudible voice. The members of the mu- 
 nicipality, who alternately visited the royal fam- 
 ily during their captivity, at times displayed the 
 most insolent barbarity, at others a delicate for- 
 bearance. Louis conversed with his inspectors 
 on every occasion, and in the most familiar man- 
 ner, on the subject of their different trades, and 
 frequently surprised them by the extent and ac- 
 curacy of his practical information. '-Are you 
 not afraid," said he to a mason, Mizareau, " that 
 these pillars will give way V " They are more 
 solid than the throne of kings," was the reply of 
 the hard-hearted Republican.* 
 
 By degrees, however, the precautions of the 
 municipality became more vexatious. Their 
 officers never, for an instant, lost sight of the royal 
 family ; and, when they retired to rest, a bed was 
 placed at the door of each room, where the guards 
 slept. Santerre, with his brutal staff, every day 
 made them a visit ; and a constant council of 
 civic authorities was held in the lower apart- 
 ments of the prison. Writing materials were 
 first taken away : soon alter, the knives, scis- 
 sors, needles, and bodkins of the princesses were 
 seized, after the most rigorous search ; a cruel 
 deprivation, as it not only prevented them from 
 relieving the tedious hours by needlework, but 
 rendered it impossible for them any longer to 
 mend then- garments.t 
 
 Rigorously excluded from all communication 
 with the city, it was with the utmost difficulty 
 that they could receive any intelligence>as to the 
 events which were going on there. But the in- 
 genuity of the faithful Clery discovered a method, 
 to a certain degree, of satisfying their desires in 
 this particular, by means ol a public crier, with 
 whom he opened a communication, and who 
 placed himself under the windows of the king, 
 and, under pretence of selling the journals, re- 
 counted their leading articles with as loud a 
 voice as he could. Clery, at the appointed hour, 
 placed himself at the window, and eagerly listen- 
 ed to the details, which, in the evening, after the 
 king had retired to bed, he told him in a whisper, 
 without the city officers being aware of the com- 
 munication.t 
 
 But, before long, the magistrates of Paris en- 
 They are ^^^'^ ^^^^ royal captives the simple con- 
 sepavated solation wliich they derived from sha- 
 fromeach ring their misfortunes together. By a 
 other. resolution of the municipality, therefore, 
 it was determined that the king and the dauphin 
 should be separated from the queen and the prin- 
 cesses. This decree, as unnecessary as it was 
 barbarous, rent the hearts of the whole family: 
 their grief was so poignant that it even melted 
 the hearts of the commissioners of the magistra- 
 
 * Clei7, 52, 53. 58, 59. Th., iii., 282, 283. Lac, x., 138, 
 J42. Th., iii., 281. t Th., iii., 284. Clery, 62, et seq. 
 
 X Clery, 79. Th., iii., 285, 286. 
 
 cy, who left the room that they might escape its 
 influence. Shortly after, their sorrow received 
 some relief by being permitted to dine together; 
 their joy at meeting was so excessive that even 
 their stern jailers were moved to tears.* 
 
 On the day on which it had been determined 
 that Louis should appear at the bar 
 of the convention, he was engaged ^^' ^^^^• 
 
 teacliing the dauphin his lesson, when the com- 
 missioners entered, and informed the king that 
 they were ordered to take the young prince to his 
 mother. He tenderly embraced his son, and was 
 profoundly afflicted at the separation. At one, 
 the mayor of Paris, Chambon, entered and read 
 the decree, by which it was ordained that Louis 
 Capet should appear at the bar of the assembly. 
 "Capet is not my name," he replied, "but that 
 of my ancestors. I could have wished, gentle- 
 men, that you had left my son with me during 
 the two last hours ;t but that deprivation is a part 
 of the treatment wiiich I have experienced ever 
 since my confinement. I am ready to follow 
 you, not because I recognise the authority of the 
 convention, but because they have the power to 
 compel me." 
 
 When Madame Elizabeth was informed of the 
 measures adopted in regard to the king, she ex- 
 pressed herself fully prepared for the catastrophe 
 which followed. " The queen and I," she said, 
 "are prepared for the worst : we do not attempt 
 to shut our eyes to his approaching fate : he will 
 die the victim of his love for the people, for 
 whose happiness he has never ceased to labour 
 since his accession to the throne. How cruelly 
 the country has been deceived ! The religion of 
 the king, his firm reliance on Providence, can 
 support him in that cruel extremity. Clery, you 
 will be left alone with my brother ; redouble your 
 attentions to him ; we have now none to depend 
 on but you."; 
 
 The crowd Avas immense as the king passed 
 through the streets : amid a thousand revolu- 
 tionary cries, some countenances indicated the 
 most profound grief His own appearance dif- 
 fered in no respect from what it had been when 
 he passed, in the days of his prosperity, from one 
 palace to another. Six hundred infantry, and a 
 large body of cavalrj^, with three pieces of load- 
 ed cannon, preceded and followed the carriage.§ 
 
 The assembty, warned of the approach of the 
 king, earnestly recommended tranquil- rp^^ ^■ 
 lity when he entered, " in order," said brought to 
 Barere, "that the guilty sovereign may the bar of 
 be awed by the stillness of the tomb. f'j« '^sem- 
 Remember the terrible silence which ^' 
 attended his appearance from Varennes ; silence 
 prophetic of the judgment of kings by nations." 
 Louis appeared : the president, Barere, immedi- 
 ately said, with a faltering voice, " Louis, the 
 French nation accuses you: you are about to 
 hear the charges that are to be preferred : Louis, 
 be seated." The king sat down with an intrepid 
 air : no signs of emotion appeared in his counte- 
 nance. The dignity and mildness of his pres- 
 ence was such that the Girondists were melted 
 to tears ; and the fanaticism of St. Just, Robes- 
 pierre, and Marat for a moment yielded to the 
 feelings ofhumanity.il 
 
 The charges consisted of an enumeration of 
 the whole crimes of the Revolution, from its 
 commencement in 1789, all of which were laid 
 
 * Lac, X., 140, 142. Clery, 69. 
 
 t Clery, 117, 120. Th., iii., 329. Lac, x., 174. 
 
 % Clery, 120. ^ Lac, x., 175. Th., iii., 329 
 
 II Lac, X., 175, 176. Mig., i., 235. Th., iii., 331. 
 
150 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 to his account. His answers, by the admission 
 even of his enemies, were brief and firm : he dis- 
 played a remarkable degree of presence of mind, 
 and in most cases was victorious over his ad- 
 versaries, or touched them by the simplicity of 
 his replies. The affair of Nancy, the journey to 
 Varennes, the suppression of the revolt in the 
 Champs de Mars, were justified by the decrees 
 of the assembly ; the catastrophe of the 10th of 
 March, by the power of self-defence conferred 
 on him by the laws. To eveiy question of the 
 president he replied with clearness and precis- 
 ion ; denying some, showing that others were the 
 work of his ministers, justifying all by the pow- 
 ers conferred on him by the Constitution. When 
 charged with shedding the blood of the people on 
 the 10th of August, only, he exclaimed, with a 
 loud v'oice, " No, sir, it was not I that did it." 
 He was careful in his answers never to impli- 
 cate any members of the Constituent and Legis- 
 lative Assemblies : many who then sat as his 
 judges trembled lest he should betray them.* 
 
 The Jacobins beheld with dismay the pro- 
 found impression made on the convention by 
 the simple statement of truth ; by the linn, but 
 temperate demeanour of the sovereign. The 
 most violent of the party proposed that he should 
 be hung that very night : a laugh of demons fol- 
 lowed the proposal from the benches of the 
 Mountain. But the majority, composed of the 
 Girondists and the neutrals, decided that he 
 should be formally tried, and defended by coun- 
 sel.t 
 
 When Louis returned to the Temple, the cru- 
 el resolution of the commune was 
 the Tem^e'" communicated to him, that he was 
 no longer to be pennitted to see his 
 family. " My son, at least," he exclaimed, with 
 the most heart-rending accent: "am I never 
 again to see my son 1 What needless cruelty, to 
 deprive me of that sweet infant!" At half past 
 eight, the hour when the dauphin usually went 
 to bed, he earnestly entreated that he might see 
 him for a moment to give him his blessing; but 
 even this favour was refused by the relentless 
 municipalit}'. For some time after he was in 
 the deepest distress, but he soon recovered his 
 composure ; read, for two hours, a work on re- 
 ligion, and never again lost his serenity of 
 mind.! 
 
 The convention, less barbarous than the ma- 
 gistrates, the day after, at the petition of the 
 king, decreed that he might enjoy the society of 
 his children, provided they did not return to the 
 queen during his trial. " You need not give 
 yourself the trouble to pass such a decree," said 
 the Jacobins, " for, unless the municipality 
 choose, they will not carrj' it into execution." 
 The king, thinking the children more necessa- 
 ry to the queen's comfort than his o^v^m, declined 
 to take them from her, and submitted to the pain- 
 ful separation with a resignation which nothing 
 could overcome.§ 
 
 On the folloTving day, the deputies of the con- 
 
 ^ . vention announced to him that he was 
 •jenerous , .11 1 . 1 
 
 devotion of to be permitted to choose his counsel. 
 .Maiesherbes He chose M. Tronchet and M. Tar- 
 aiid Tron- ggt -phe iirst accepted, and faithful- 
 ' ly discharged his duty; the latter 
 
 had the baseness to decline. Napoleon knew 
 how to admire heroism, even when exerted 
 
 « Lac, X., 177. Th., iii., 333. 
 
 t Lac, X., 17S. Mi?., i.. 235, 236. 
 
 t Lac, X., 180. Clery, 124. Th., iii., 334. 
 
 4 Th., iii., 336. 
 
 in another's cau.se ; one of his first acts was to 
 promote Tronchet, then an old man, to the im- 
 portant duty of aiding in the formation of the le- 
 gal code which has given such durable lustre to 
 the name of its author, and he was soon after ap- 
 pointed to the head of the Supreme Court of Cas- 
 sation.* The venerable Maiesherbes, whose of- 
 ficial career had been distinguished by so many 
 sage and useful lefonns, now came forward and 
 volunteered his services in behalf of his sover- 
 eign. In a letter addressed to the president of 
 the convention, he said, " I have been twice 
 honoured with a place in the councils of my 
 master, when it was the object of ambition to all 
 the world ; I owe him the same service when it 
 imposes a duty which many consider danger- 
 ous." This generous offer drew tears from the 
 eyes of many in the convention : the Jacobins 
 were silent : even reckless ambition for a mo- 
 ment felt the ascendant of heroic vinue.t 
 
 Louis was deeply affected at this proof of de- 
 votion on the part of his aged friend. When he 
 entered the Temple, he clasped him in his aiTus, 
 and exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, " Ah ! it 
 is you, my friend ! you see to what I am redu- 
 ced by the excess of m}^ affection for my people, 
 and the self-denial which led me to remove the 
 troops intended to protect the throne from the en- 
 terprises of the factious. You fear not to en- 
 danger your own life to save mine ; but it is in 
 vain; they will bring me to the scaffold, I am 
 wel) aware ; but that is of no moment ; let us en- 
 ter upon the defence as if I were sure to be suc- 
 cessful :^ I will gain it in reality through your 
 exertions, since my memory will descend un- 
 spotted to posterity." 
 
 Maiesherbes and Tronchet afterward called 
 in the assistance of M. Deseze, a celebrated 
 pleader, who at first had espoused the popular 
 side, but had withdra-R-n from political life since 
 the sombre days of the Revolution commenced. 
 He entered with great eamesmess, and his wont- 
 ed ability, upon his arduous duties. " I have 
 often wished," said the king to Maiesherbes, 
 " that I had the means of recompensing the zeal 
 of your colleagues ; I have thought of leaving 
 them a legacy, but would it be respected by the 
 convention 1 Would it not endanger them V 
 " Sire," replied Maiesherbes, " the legacy is al- 
 ready bequeathed ; in choosing them for your 
 defenders, 3'our majesty has immortalized their 
 names." His counsel were in continual aston- 
 ishment at his serenity of mind. " Believe 
 me," said he, "religion has more consolations 
 than philosophy."! 
 
 When the eloquent peroration of Deseze was 
 read to the king, the evening before it was to be 
 delivered to the assembly, he requested that it 
 might be struck out. " I have to request of you," 
 said he, " to make a sacrifice which I know will 
 be painful : strike out of your pleading the too 
 touching peroration. It is enough for me to ap- 
 pear before such judges and demonstrate my 
 complete innocence ; but I will not condescend 
 to move their feelings." The same day he com- 
 posed his immortal testament ; the most perfect 
 commentar}' on the principles of Christianity 
 that ever has come from the hand of kings. " I 
 recommend to my son," said he, in that touching 
 memorial, "if he ever has the misfortune to be- 
 
 * Bour.. v., 122, and iv, 68. 
 
 t Mi?., i., 237. Lac, x., 183, 188. Th., iii., 335. 
 t Hue, 42. Lac, X., 186. 193. Mi?., i., 236. Th., iii., 
 336. « Lac. X., 195. Hue, 72. Th.,ia., 348. 
 
1T92.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 151 
 
 come king, to feel that his whole existence should 
 be devoted to the good of his people ; to bury in 
 oidiviou all hatred and resentment, especially for 
 my misfortunes; to recollect that he cannot pro- 
 mote tlie happiness of liis subjects but in reign- 
 ing according to the laws ; but, at the same time, 
 that a king cannot carry into execution his good 
 intentions without the requisite authority; that 
 otherwise, being continually thwarted in his op- 
 erations, he is rather hurtful than beneficial. I 
 pardon all those who have injured me in my 
 misfortunes, and I pray my son to recollect 
 only their suflerings. I declare before God, 
 and on the eve of appearing at his tribunal, 
 that I am totally innocent of the crimes laid to 
 my charge."* 
 
 On the 26:h of December the king was con- 
 ducted to the assembly. He was taken in the 
 carriage of the mayor, with the same militaiy 
 force as before. He evinced as great coolness 
 as on the former occasion ; spoke of Seneca, Li- 
 vy, and the public hospitals ; and addressed him- 
 self in a delicate vein of pleasantry to one of the 
 municipality, who sat in the carnage with his 
 hat on. When waiting in the antechamber, 
 Malesherbes, in conversing with the king, made 
 use of the words, " Sire, your majesty." Treil- 
 hard, a furious Jacobin, interrupted him, ex- 
 claiming, " What has rendered you so bold as to 
 pronounce these words, which the convention 
 has proscribed V " Contempt of life," replied 
 the intrepid old man.t 
 
 When they were admitted into the assembly. 
 Splendid Louis seated himself between his coun- 
 peroration scl ; Surveyed, with a benignant eye, the 
 of Deseze. crowded benches of his adversaries, and 
 was even observed sometimes to smile as he 
 conversed with M. Malesherbes. In the speech 
 M'hich ollowed, M. Deseze ably argued the in- 
 violability of the sovereign, and proved that, if 
 it was destroyed, the weaker party in the con- 
 vention had no security against the stronger : a 
 prophetic truth, which the Girondists soon ex- 
 perienced at the hands of their implacable ene- 
 mies. He examined *he whole life of the king, 
 and showed that, in everj' instance, he had been 
 actuated by the sincerest love of his people. On 
 the 10th of August, he obsei^ved, " Was the mon- 
 arch under the necessity of submitting to an 
 armed multitude"? Was he constrained by law 
 to yield to force 1 Was not the power which he 
 held in the Constitution a deposite, for the preser- 
 vation of which he was answerable to the na- 
 tion 1 If you yourselves were surrounded by a 
 furious and misguided rabble, which threatened, 
 without respect for your sacred character, to tear 
 you from this sacred sanctuary, what could you 
 do other than what he has done 1 The magistrates 
 themselves authorized all that he did by having 
 signed the order to repel force by force. Not- 
 withstanding their sanction, the king was un- 
 willing to make use of this authorit)', and re- 
 tired into the bosom of the convention to avoid 
 the shedding of blood. The combat which fol- 
 lowed neither was undertaken for him nor by 
 his orders ; he interfered only to put a stop to it, 
 as is proved by the fact that it was in conse- 
 quence of an order signed by him that the Swiss 
 abandoned the defence of the chateau and sur- 
 rendered their lives. There is a cr}'ing injus- 
 tice, therefore, in reproaching him with the blood 
 slied on the 10th of August; in truth, his conduct 
 
 * Clery, 148. Lac., x., 197. Th., iii., 318. 
 t Lac., z., 199. Th., iii., 349. 
 
 in that particular is above reproach." His con- 
 clusion was in these words : " Louis mounted 
 the throne at the age of twenty, and even then 
 he set the example of an irreproachable life : he 
 was governed by no weak or coiTupted passion : 
 he was economical, just, and severe. He proved 
 himself, from the beginning, the friend of Ms 
 country. The people desired the removal of a 
 destructive tax ; he removed it : they wished the 
 abolition of servitude ; he abolished it in his do- 
 mains : they prayed for a reform in the criminal 
 law ; he reformed it : they demanded that thou- 
 sands of Frenchmen, whom the rigour of our 
 u.sages had excluded from political rights, should 
 enjoy them; he conceded them: they longed for 
 liberty ; he gave it. He even anticipated their 
 wishes ; and yet it is the same people who now 
 demand his punishment. I add no more : I 
 pause before tire tribunal of History : remember 
 that it will judge your decision, and that its will 
 be the voice of ages."* 
 
 When the defence was concluded, the king 
 rose and spoke as follows : " You have heard 
 my defence ; I will not recapitulate it : when 
 addressing you, probably for the last time, I de- 
 clare that my conscience has nothing to reproach 
 itself with, and that my defenders have said 
 nothing but the truth. I have no fears for the 
 public examination of my conduct ; but my heart 
 bleeds at the accusation brought against me of 
 having been the cause of the mi.sfortunes of my 
 people, and, most of all, of having shed their 
 blood on the lOth of August. The multiplied 
 proofs I have given, in every period of my reign, 
 of my love for my people, and the maimer in 
 which I have conducted myself towards them, 
 might, I had hoped, have saved me from so cruel 
 an imputation." Having said these words, he 
 withdrew with his defenders. He embraced M. 
 Deseze, and exclaimed, in a transport of grati- 
 tude, '-This is true eloquence; I am now at 
 ease ; I shall have an honoured memory ; the 
 French will regret my death."t 
 
 A stomiy discussion inunediately arose in the 
 assemblv. Lanjuinais had the bold- 
 ness to demand a revocation of the acculuon. 
 decree by Avhich the king had been 
 brought to the bar of the convention. " If you 
 insist on being judges," he concluded, "cease to 
 be accusers. My blood boils at the thought of 
 seeing, in the judgment-seat, men who openly 
 conspired against the throne on the lOth of Au- 
 gust, and Avho have, in such ferocious terms, aji- 
 ticipated the judgment without hearing the de- 
 fence." The most violent agitation followed 
 these w-ords. " He accuses," exclaimed the Jac- 
 obins, "the lOth of Augu.st in the midst of the 
 convention, which owes its existence to that 
 revolt. He wishes to save the tjTant ; to-morrow- 
 he will deliver us up to his vengeance. To the 
 Abbaye with the perjured deputy ! Let the 
 friends of the tyrant perish with him." The 
 Girondists felt the force of this reply. They did 
 not venture to call in question an event which 
 had established the Republic, and could not be 
 arraigned without consigning their power to the 
 du.st, themselves to the' scatTold. The storm 
 was appeased by a proposal to discuss an appeal 
 to the people : it took place, and lasted twenty 
 days.t 
 
 St. Just was the most powerful declaimer 
 against the sovereign. " Posterity," he said, 
 
 * Mig-., i., 237. -Lac, x. 208. Th., iii., 349, 352. 
 t Lac.x., 210. Th., iii , 35.?. 
 t Lac, X., 213. Til., iii , 355. 
 
152 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 " will bless your work : every generous heart 
 throughout the world will respect your courage. 
 What people has ever made such saci'ifices lor 
 liberty 1 What people has been so often betray- 
 ed : what so .'<low in vengeance 1 Is it before 
 the prin'?e that we must justify our proceedings, 
 and is that prince to be inviolable 1 The system 
 of the kicg was apparent gentleness and good- 
 ness : everywhere he identified himself with his 
 country, and sought to fix on himself the affec- 
 tions which should be centred on her. He sap- 
 ped the laws by the refinement of his conduct — 
 by the interest which unfortunate virtue inspires. 
 Louis was tnily a tyrant, and a perfidious and 
 deceitful one. He convoked the States-General, 
 but it was only to humble the noblesse, and reign 
 absolute by their divisions. On the 14th of July 
 and the 5th of October, he had secretly provided 
 the means of resistance ; but when the national 
 energy had shattered them in pieces, he made a 
 virtue of necessity, and testified a hypocritical 
 joy for the victory of the people. Since that 
 time, being no longer able to employ force, he 
 has never ceased to strive to corrupt the friends 
 of the people ; he employed the most perfidious 
 dissimulation before the 10th of August, and now 
 assumes a feigned gentleness to disarm 3'our re- 
 sentment. The French long loved the king who 
 was preparing their slavery ; he has since slain 
 those who held him foremost in their afiections. 
 The people will no more revolt if the king is 
 just, than the sea will rise if it is not agitated by 
 the winds." Robespierre exclaimed : " There 
 are sacred forms unknown to the bar ; there are 
 indestructible principles, superior to the common 
 maxims, consecrated by habit, or confirmed by 
 prejudice. The true condemnation of a sover- 
 eign is to be fovmd in the spontaneous insurrec- 
 tion of a people driven to desperation by his op- 
 pression ; it is the most sure and the most equita- 
 ble of all judgments. Louis was condemned 
 long before the decree which called him to your 
 bar. The last and greatest proof which freemen 
 can give of their love to their country, is to sac- 
 rifice to it the first movements of returning sen- 
 sibility. The humanity which trembles in pres- 
 ence of the accused, the clemency v/hich com- 
 pounds with tyranny, is the worst kind of oppres- 
 sion."* 
 
 Vergniaud replied in a strain of impassioned 
 eloquence. A profound silence prevailed when 
 he arose; the members listened with breathless 
 anxiet}' to the first orator of France pleading the 
 cause of its first subject : " We are accused of 
 provoking a civil war : the accusation is false. 
 But what do they desire who incessantly preach 
 up assassination against the partisans of tyran- 
 ny, and apply that name to all those who thwart 
 their ambitious projects; who invoke poniards 
 against the representatives of the people ; who 
 are never satisfied unless the minority of the 
 legi.slature rules the majority, and enforces its 
 arguments by the aid of insurrections 1 They 
 are the real promoters of civil v/ar who thunder 
 forth on these principles in all the public places, 
 and pervert the people by stigmatizing justice 
 with the name of pusillanimity, humanity with 
 that of conspiracy. Who has not heard in the 
 streets the exclamations of the rabble, who as- 
 cribe every calamity to the influence of the sov- 
 ereign! If bread is dear, the cause is in the 
 Temple ; if money is scarce, if the armies are 
 ill paid, the cause is in the T^jnple ; if we are 
 
 < Lac., X., 215, 218. Th., iii., 356. 
 
 daily obliged to witness misery in the streets, the 
 cause is in the Temple ! Who will assure me 
 that these men, who are so ready in exciting these 
 complaints, will not hereafter direct them against 
 the convention 1 that those who assert that the 
 tyranny of the legislature has succeeded to that 
 of the throne, and that a new 10th of August is 
 necessary to extinguish it ; that a delender is re- 
 quired for the Republic, and that one chief alone 
 can save it 1 Who will assure me that these 
 same men will not exclaim after the death of 
 Louis, with still greater violence than before, if 
 bread is dear, the cause is in the convention ; if 
 money is scarce, if our armies are ill provision- 
 ed, the cause is in the convention ; if the machine 
 of government is overcharged , the cause is in the 
 convention ; if the calamities of war have been 
 increased by the accession of England and Spain 
 to the league of our enemies, the cause is in the 
 convention, which provoked their hostility by the 
 condemnation of Louis 1 Who will assure me 
 that, among the assassins of September 2d, there 
 will not be found what you now call a defender, 
 but who, in reality, will prove a dictator, yet 
 reeking with the blood of his victims ; and if so, 
 to what unheard-of calamities will Paris be sub- 
 jected 1 Who will inhabit a city tenanted only 
 by desolation and death 1 And when the indus- 
 trious citizens are reduced to beggarj', who will 
 then relieve their wants 1 who will succour their 
 famishing children 1 I foresee the tlu-illing re- 
 ply which will meet them.: ' Go to the quarries, 
 arid snatch from the earth some bleeding remains 
 of the victims we have mm'dered. You have 
 asked for blood in the days of your power : here 
 are blood and corpses ; we have no other food 
 now to oifer you.' You shudder at the thought: 
 oh ! then, unite your efibrls with mine to avert so 
 deplorable a catastrophe."* 
 
 At the conclusion of the debate, the assembly 
 unanimously pronoimced that Louis Louis con- 
 was guilty. The appeal to the people demned. 
 was rejected by a majority of 423 to ^?","-JJ 
 281.t| J5,i-yj. 
 
 This unanimous vote of the convention upon 
 the guilt of Louis is one of the most instructive 
 facts in the history of the Revolution. That 
 among seven hundred men, great difference of 
 opinion must have existed on the subject is quite 
 certain, and is abundantly proved by the division 
 which followed, and the narrow majority by 
 which liis death was ultimately voted. Yet 
 even the friends of Louis were compelled to 
 commence their efforts for his salvation by vo- 
 ting him guilty. The real grounds of his vindi- 
 cation, those on which the opinion of posterity 
 will be founded, were by common consent aban- 
 doned. Upon a point on which history has unan- 
 imously decided one way, the convention unan- 
 imously decided another.§ 
 
 This result could hardly have taken place in 
 an ordinary court of justice, compo- contrary to 
 sed of a few individuals, whose sit- the opinion of 
 uation was permanent, whose re- almost all its 
 sponsibility was fixed, whose duties members. 
 were restricted to the considerations of evidence. 
 It was the combination of political considera- 
 
 * Lac, X., 231. Th., iii., 369, 373. Micr., i., 238. 
 
 t Lac, X., 232. Toul., iii., 178. Th., iii., 377. 
 
 T Eifjht meml>ers were absent from had health ; thirt}'- 
 seven declared Louis guilty, but voted only for precautionary 
 measures ; 633 declared him guilty. Not one Frenchman 
 deemed it safe to assert the truth, that the illustrious ac- 
 cused was entirely innocent. — See Thiers, iii., 377. 
 
 t) See Toul., iii., 226, 233. Mig., i., 237. Lac, x., 220, 
 240. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 153 
 
 tions which proved fatal to Louis : terror at a re- 
 lapse into the ancient bondage to the throne ; 
 dread of the revolutionary axe, already suspend- 
 ed over the country. Such is the general efiect 
 of blending the legislative and the judicial func- 
 tions; of intrusting the life of a man to a popu- 
 lar assembly, in which numbers diminisn the 
 sense of responsibility, without increasing the 
 power of tiiought ; and the contagion of a multi- 
 tude adds to the force of passion, without dimin- 
 ishing the influence of fear. 
 
 But this is not all. This extraordinaiy vote 
 is a signal proof of the effects of democratic in- 
 stitutions, and of the, utter impossibility of free 
 discussion existing, or public justice being done, 
 in a coimtr}' in which the whole weight is thrown 
 into the popular scale. It is well known that, in 
 America, the press, when united, is omnipotent,* 
 and can, at any time, drive the most innocent 
 man into exile ; that the judgments of the courts 
 of law are often notoriously unjust on any popu- 
 lar question, from the absence of any counter- 
 poise to the power of the people. The same 
 truth was experienced, in the most cruel manner, 
 on the trial of Louis. That his defenders in the 
 assembly were men of the greatest talents, is ev- 
 ident from their speeches; that they were pos- 
 sessed of the noblest courage, was afterward 
 proved by their deaths. Yet these intrepid men 
 were obliged, for his sake, to commence the 
 struggle by voting him guilty. To have done 
 otherwise would have .been to have delivered 
 him unsupported into the hands of his enemies ; 
 to have totally destroyed their influence with the 
 people ; to have ruined themselves without sa- 
 ving him. So true is it, that the extreme of de- 
 mocracy is as fatal to freedom as immitigated 
 despotism ; that truth is as seldom heard in the 
 assemblies of the multitude as in the halls of 
 princes; and that, without a due equipoise be- 
 tween the conflicting ranks of societ)', the bal- 
 ance may be cast as far the one way as the oth- 
 er, and the axe of the populace be as subversive 
 of justice as the bowstring of the sultan.t 
 
 The question remained, What punishment 
 Hi d th s'^ou^d be inflicted on the accused 1 
 resolvtd on. "^^^ '^°^^ lasted forty hours. During 
 its continuance, Paris was in the last 
 degree of agitation ; the club of the Jacobins re- 
 echoed with cries for his death : the avenues of 
 the convention were choked with a fmious mul- 
 titude, menacing alike his supporters and the 
 neutral part3^ As its termination drew near, the 
 tumult increased; the most breathless anxiety 
 pervaded the assembly, and at length the presi- 
 dent, Vergniaud, announced the result in these 
 words: "Citizens, 1 announce the result of the 
 vote : when justice has spoken, humanity should 
 resume its place: there are 721 votes; a major- 
 ity of twent}'-six: have voted for death.j In the 
 name of the convention, I declare that the pun- 
 ishment of Louis Capet is Death." 
 
 Without the defection of the Girondists, the 
 king's life would have been saved. Forty-sis 
 of their party, including Vergniaud, voted con- 
 ditionally or unconditionally for his death. They 
 were anxious to save the king ; but the Democrat- 
 ic fury of the times rendered no mode practica- 
 ble in their opinion but the appeal to the people 
 Almost all of them subsequently perished on the 
 scaSbld they had prepared for their sovereign.§ 
 
 * Hall's America, ii. Chap, on the Judiciary. 
 
 f Mig., i., 237. 
 
 i Uig., i., 238. 239. Th., iii., 380, 385. Lac, x., 233, 240. 
 
 t) Lac, X., 241. 
 
 Vol. I.— U 
 
 Among those who voted for death, there were 
 many, such as the Duke of Orleans, influenced 
 by base or selfish motives.* In adopting this 
 timid course, they erred as much in statesman- 
 like wisdom as moral virtue. Their conduct is 
 thus stigmatized by the greatest master of polit- 
 jeal ability whom modern Europe has produced. 
 " The Girondists and Jacobins," says Napoleon, 
 "united in condemning the king to death; and 
 yet the majority of the former had voted for the 
 appeal to the people, which was intended to save 
 him. This forms the inexplicable part of their 
 conduct. Had they wished to preserve his life, 
 they had the power to have done so ; nothing more 
 was necessary but to hav^e adjourned the sen- 
 tence, orcondemned him to exile or transportation : 
 but to condemn him to death, and, at the same 
 time, endeavour to make his fate depend on a 
 popular vote, was the height of imprudence and 
 absurdity : it was, after ha\ang destroyed the 
 monarchy, to endeavour to tear France in pieces 
 by a civil war. It was this false combination 
 which ruined them. Vergniaud, their main pil- 
 lar, was the very man who proclaimed, as presi- 
 dent, the death of Louis : and he did this at the 
 moment when the force of their party was such 
 in the assembly, that it required several months 
 of labour, and more than one popular insurrec- 
 tion, to overtiirn it. That party would have ruled 
 the convention, destroyed the Mountain, and gov- 
 erned France, if they had at once pursued a man- 
 ly, straightforward conduct. It was the refine- 
 ments of metaphysicians which occasioned their 
 fall."t But there were others, doubtless, of a 
 different character; many great and good men, 
 who mournfully inclined to the severer side 
 from an opinion of its absolute necessity to an- 
 nihilate a dangerous enemy, and establish an 
 unsettled repubiic. Among" these must be reck- 
 oned Carnot, who, when called on for his opin- 
 ion, gave it in these words : " Death ! and never 
 did word weigh so heavily on ray heart."t 
 
 But the fate of Louis affords a signal proof 
 that what is unjust never is expedient, and that 
 its ultimate tendency is to injure the cause for 
 which it was committed. The first efiect may 
 frequently answer the expectations of its perpe- 
 trators; the last invariably disappoints them. 
 For a few years, the death of the king, by impli- 
 cating so large a body of men in the support of 
 the Republic, was favourable to Democracy : it 
 finally led to the restoration of the monarchy. 
 With what eagerness do the RovaUst historians 
 now recount the scene in the "Temple ! what 
 would the Republican writers give to be able to 
 expunge it from the French annals ! It must al- 
 ways be remembered, that the actions of public 
 men will be the subject of thought at a future 
 period ; when interest is stifled and passion is si- 
 lent ; when fear has ceased to agitate and discord 
 is at rest, but when conscience has resumed its 
 sway over the human heart. Nothing but what 
 is just, therefore, can finally be expedient, be- 
 
 ' The Duke of Orleans, when called on to g^ive his vote, 
 walked with a faltering step, and a face paler than death it- 
 self, to the appointed place, and there read these words: 
 " Eiclusively governed by my duty, and com-inced that all 
 those who have resisted the sovereignty of the people deserve 
 death — my vote is for death." Important as the accession 
 of the first prince of the blood was to the bloodthirsty fac- 
 tion, his conduct in this instance was too obviously selfish 
 and atrocious not to excite a general feeling of indignation : 
 the agitation of the assembly became extreme : it seemed as 
 if by this single vote the fate of the monarch was irrevocably 
 sealed. — See Hist, de la Convention, ii., 48. 
 
 t Nap. in Las Casas, ii., 184, 185, 190, 191. 
 
 X Camot's Memoirs, 97. Lac, s., 288. 
 
154 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 cause nothing else can secure the permanent 
 concurrence of mankind. 
 
 When the counsel of the unfortunate monarch 
 were called in to hear the sentence, their tears 
 for some time choked their utterance. Malesher- 
 bes strove in vain to speak ; M. Dcseze at length 
 read a protest, in which the king solemnly dcr 
 clared his innocence ; and Tronchet earnestly 
 entreated the revocation of a decree passed by so 
 slender a majority. '• The laws," it was said, 
 " are passed by a simple majority." " Yes," it 
 was replied, " but the laws may be repealed ; but 
 . who shall recall human life V As a last re- 
 source, the Girondists proposed a delay for a 
 limited time ; but here too their fatal divisions 
 gave the victorj' to their enemies, and sentence 
 of death was pronounced.* 
 
 This decisive step produced the utmost emo- 
 tion in Paris. All the members of the Cote 
 Droit, all the avowed or .secret RoyalLsts, were in 
 consternation ; the Jacobins could hardly believe 
 that so great a \actory had been gained as the 
 condemnation of a king, in the midst of a people 
 over whom, a few years before, he was an abso- 
 lute monarch. They redoubled their activity ; 
 put all their forces on foot ; kept up an incessant 
 agitation ; and earnestly besought all their ad- 
 herents to be vigilant for the next two days, and 
 secure the fruits of so great a triumph. This 
 audacity had the asual etfect v/hich force pro- 
 duces on the masses of men ; it paralysed and 
 put to silence the greater number, and excited 
 the most profound indignation in a few resolute 
 minds.t 
 
 Louis was fully prepared for his fate. During 
 Dignified the calling of the vote, he asked M. de 
 conduct of Malesherbes, '■ Have you not met, near 
 Louis. the Temple, the White Lady 1" "What 
 do you mean V replied he. " Do you not know," 
 resumed the king, with a smile, "that when a 
 prince of our house is about to die, a female, 
 dressed in white, is seen wandering round the 
 palace 1 My friends," added he, to his defenders, 
 " I am about to depart before you for the land of 
 the just ; we shall there be reunited ; and even 
 this world wiU bless your virtues." His only 
 appreherusion was for his family : " I shudder to 
 think in what a situation I leave my children : 
 it is by prayer alone that I can prepare my mind 
 for my last interview with them," was the only 
 desponding expression which escaped him du- 
 ring this period of his captivity.: 
 
 When M. de Malesherbes came to the prison 
 to announce the result of the vote, he found Louis 
 alone, with his forehead resting on his hands, 
 and absorbed in a deep rever}-. Without in- 
 quiring concerning his fate, or even looking at 
 his friend, he said, " For two hours I have been 
 revohang in my memorj^ whether, during my 
 whole reign, I have voluntarily given any cause 
 of complaint to my subjects ; with perfect sin- 
 cerity I can declare, when about to appear be- 
 fore the throne of God, that I deserve no reproach 
 at their hands, and that I have never formed a 
 wish but for their happiness." The old man en- 
 couraged a hope that the sentence might be re- 
 voked :§ he shook his head, and only entreated 
 his friend not to leave him in his last moments. 
 But he was denied this consolation by the cruelty 
 of the municipality ; Malesherbes repeatedly ap- 
 plied at the gate, "but never again obtained ad- 
 mittance. 
 
 * Mig., i., 2?.9. Lac, 243. Th., iii., 383. 
 
 t Th., iii., 3M0, 390. t Lac, x.. 244, 246. Clery, 158. 
 
 « M:g., i., 240. Lac, x., 345, 347. Clery, 159. 
 
 The king then desired Clerj' to bring him the 
 volume of Hume's history which contained the 
 death of Charles I. ; he read it sedulously lor the 
 few days which intervened before his execution. 
 During the five preceding months he had perused 
 two hundred and fifty volumes.* 
 
 At length, on the 20th of Januarj', Santerre 
 appeared with a deputation from the municipali- 
 t)', and read the sentence of death. The king 
 received it with unshaken firmness, and demand- 
 ed a respite of three days to prepare for heaven; 
 to be allowed an interview with his family, and 
 to obtain the consolation of a confessor. The 
 two last demands alone ^vere conceded by the 
 convention, and the execution was fixed for the 
 following morning at ten o'clock. He then re- 
 sumed his tranquil air, and dined as usual. The 
 officers who guarded him had removed the 
 knives. " Did they .suppose me," said he, " base 
 enough to kill myself 1 I am iimocent,. and can 
 die without apprehension."t 
 
 The last interview with his family presented 
 the most heart-rending scene. " At His last inter- 
 half past eight," says Clery, " the view with his 
 door of his apartment opened, and family, 
 the queen appeared, leading by the hand the 
 princess royal and the Princess Elizabeth ; they 
 aU rushed into the arms of the king. A pro- 
 found silence ensued for some minutes, broken 
 only by the sobs of the afflicted famil}'. The 
 king sat down, the queen on his left, the princess 
 royal on his right, Madame Elizabeth in front, 
 and the young dauphin between his knees. Tliis 
 terrible scene lasted nearly two hours ; the tears 
 and lamentations of the roj^al family frequently 
 interrupting the words of the king, suificiently 
 evinced that he himself commimicated the intelli- 
 gence of his condemnation. At length, at a 
 quarter past ten, Louis rose ; the royal parents 
 gave each of them their blessing to the dauphin, 
 while the princess still held the king embraced 
 round the waist : as he approached the door, they 
 uttered the most piercing shrieks : ' I assure you, 
 I will see you again in the morning,' said he, 'at 
 eight o'clock.' ' Why not at seven ]' exclaimed 
 they, all at once. ' Well, then, at seven,' answer- 
 ed the king. ' Adieu, adieu ■' he pronounced these- 
 words with so mournful an accent that the lamen- 
 tations redoubled, and the princess royal faint- 
 ed at his feet. At length, wishing to put an end 
 to so trying a scene, the king embraced them all 
 in the tenderest manner, and tore himself from 
 their arms."j 
 
 The remainder of the evening was spent with 
 the confessor, the Abbe Edgeworth, 
 who, with heroic devotion, discharged muni^i.*"""" 
 the perilous duty of attending the last 
 moments of his sovereign. At twelve he went 
 to bed, and slept peaceably till five. He then 
 gave his last instructions to Clery, and put into 
 his hands the little property which he had at his 
 disposal, a ring, a .seal, and a lock of hair. " Give 
 this ring to the queen," said he, "and tell her 
 v\'ith what regret I leave her ; give her also the 
 locket containing the hair of my children; give 
 this seal to the dauphin, and tell them all what 
 I suffer at dying without receiving their last em- 
 braces ; but I wish to spare them the pain of so 
 cruel a separation." He asked for scissors to 
 cut ofi'his hair with his o\^ti hands, to avoid that 
 humiliating operation from the hands of the exe- 
 cutioners; but the officers refused hi.s request. He 
 
 * Clery, 159. Th., iii., 283. 
 
 t Lac, X., 246, 248. Mi?., i., 240. Th., iii., 329. 
 
 t Clery, 173. Th,, iii., 3'Jl. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 155 
 
 His execution. 
 
 then received the sacrament from his confessor, 
 at a little altar prepared by Cler}' in his chamber, 
 and heard the last ser^'ice for the dying at the 
 time when the rolling of the drums and the agi- 
 tation in the streets announced the preparations 
 for his execution.* 
 At nine o'clock Santerre presented himself in 
 the Temple. " You come to seek 
 me," said the king ; " allow me a 
 minute." He went into his closet, and imme- 
 diately came out with his testament in his hand. 
 "I pray you," said he, '-to give this packet to 
 the queen, my wife." " That is no concern of 
 mine," replied the worthy representative of the 
 municipality; " I am here only to conduct you 
 to the scatfold." The king then asked another 
 member of the commune to take charge of the 
 document, and said to SanteiTe, " Let us set off." 
 The municipality next day published the testa- 
 ment, " as a proof of the fanaticism and crimes 
 of the king:" without intending it, they thereby 
 raised the noblest monument to his memory.t 
 
 In passing through the court of the Temple, 
 Louis cast a last look to the tower, which con- 
 tained all that was dear to him in the world ; and 
 immediately summoning up his courage, seated 
 himself calmly in the carriage beside his con- 
 fes.sor, with two gendannes in the opposite side. 
 During the passage to the place of execution, 
 which occupied two hours, he never ceased reci- 
 ting the psalms which were pointed oiy; by the 
 venerable priest. Even the soldiers were aston- 
 ished at his composure. The streets were filled 
 with an immense crowd, who beheld in silent 
 di.smay the mournful procession : a large body 
 of troops surrounded the caiTiage ; a double file 
 of soldiers and National Guards, and a formida- 
 ble array of camion, rendered hopeless any at- 
 tempt at rescue. When the procession arrived 
 at the place of execution, between the gardens 
 of the Tuileries and tli£ Champs Elysees, he de- 
 scended from the carriage, and undressed him- 
 self without the aid of the executioners, but tes- 
 tified a momentar}^ look of indignation when 
 they began to bind his hands. M. Edgeworth 
 exclaimed, with almost inspired felicity, " Sub- 
 mit to that outrage as the last resemblance to the 
 Saviour, who is about to recompense your suf- 
 ferings." At these words he resigned himself, 
 and walked to the foot of the scaffold. He there 
 received the sublime benediction from his con- 
 fessor, " Son of St. Louis, ascend to heaven !" 
 No sooner had he mounted, than, advancing with 
 a finn step to the front of the scaffold, with one 
 look he imposed silence on twent}' drummers, 
 placed there to prevent his being heard, and said, 
 with a loud voice, " I die innocent of all the 
 crimes laid to my charge ; I pardon the authors 
 of my death, and pray God that my blood may 
 never fall upon France. And you, unhappy 
 people — " At these words SanteiTe ordered the 
 drums to beat ; the executioners seized the king, 
 and the descending axe tenninated his existence. 
 One of the assistants seized the head and waved 
 it in the air ; the blood fell on the confessor, who 
 was still on his knees beside the lifeless body of 
 his sovereign.t 
 
 The body of Louis was, immediatelv after the 
 execution, removed into the ancient cemeter}' of 
 the Madeleine, at the end of the Boulevard Ita- 
 
 * Clery, 181. 182. Th., iii.. 395, 397. 
 
 t Lac, x.,254. Mig.,i.,240. Th.,ui..398. Clery, 183, 
 194. Edgeworth, 218. 
 
 i Edgeworth. 222, 225, 227. Th., iii., 339, 340. Lac, X., 
 255, Mig., i„241. 
 
 lienne, where it was placed in a grave of six feet 
 square, with its back against the wall of the Rue 
 d'Anjou. Large quantities of quicklime were 
 immediately thrown into the grave, which occa- 
 sioned so rapid a decomposition, that when his 
 remains were sought after in 1815, with a view 
 to their being conveyed to the Royal Mausoleum 
 in St. Denis, it was with great dilliculty that any 
 part could be recovered. Over the spot where he 
 was interred, Napoleon commenced the splendid 
 Temple of Glory, after the battle of Jena, pro- 
 fessedly as a memorial of the grand army, but 
 with the secret design of converting it inio a mon- 
 ument to the victims of the Revolution, which he 
 did not intend to reveal for many years, and till 
 monarchical feelings were to a certain degree re- 
 stored. In this, as in so many other gi'eat de- 
 signs, he was interrupted by the calamities which 
 occasioned his fall, and the superb edifice was 
 completed by the Bourbons, and now forms the 
 Church of the Madeleine, the most beautiful of 
 the many beautiful structures in Paris. He suf- 
 fered in the centre of the Place Louis XV., on 
 the sqme ground where the queen, the Princess 
 Elizabeth, and so many other of the noble vic- 
 tims of the Revolution perished ; where Robes- 
 pierre and Danton were afterward executed, and 
 where the Emperor Alexander and the allied 
 sovereigns took their station when their victori- 
 ous annies entered Paris on the 31st of March, 
 1814. The greatest of revolutionary crimes, 
 the greatest of revolutionary punishments, took 
 place on the same spot : the histor}^ of modem 
 Europe has not a scene fraught with equally in- 
 teresting recollections to exhibit. It is now 
 marked by the colossal obelisk of blood-red 
 granite, which was brought from Thebes, in Up- 
 per Egypt, in 1833, by the French government : 
 the monument which witnessed the march of 
 Cambyses, and survived the conquests of Ceesar 
 and Alexander, is destined to mark, to the latest 
 generation, the scene of the martyrdom of Louis, 
 and of the final triumph of his immortal aven- 
 ger.* 
 
 The character of this monarch cannot be bet- 
 ter given than in the words of the jjgflggtions 
 ablest of the Republican writers of on the event, 
 France. " Louis inherited a revolu- and Louis's 
 tion from his ancestors: his qualities ""haracter. 
 were better fitted than those of any of his prede- 
 cessors to have prevented or terminated it ; for 
 he was capable of effecting reform before it 
 broke out, and of discharging the duties of a 
 constitutional throne under its influence. He 
 was perhaps the only monarch who was subject 
 to no passion, not even that of power, and who 
 united the two qualities most essential to a good 
 king, fear of Giod and love of his people. He 
 perished the victim of passions which he had had 
 no share in exciting; of those of his supporters, to 
 which he was a stranger; of the multitude, which 
 he had done nothing to awaken. Few kings 
 have left so venerated a memoiy. History will 
 inscribe as his epitaph, that, with a little more 
 force of mind, he would have been an unique 
 sovereign. "+ 
 
 The great and touching qualities, however, ex- 
 hibited by this unhappy monarch in his latter 
 days; his unexampled sufferings and tragic fate, 
 must not throw into oblivion the ruinous conse- 
 quences of the indecision and weakness of his 
 conduct on the throne, or make us forget that 
 
 * Nap. in Las Casas, i., 370, 371. Hist, de la Conv., ii., 
 13, 14. t Mig., 1., 241. 
 
156 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VI. 
 
 the calamities, the bloodshed, and irretrievable 
 changes in society, produced by the Revolution, 
 spnuig from his amiable but unhappy and un- 
 conquerable aversion to resolute measures. The 
 man in existence who knew France and the 
 Revolution best, has left a decided opinion on 
 the subject. "Had Louis XVI.," said Napo- 
 leon, "resisted manfully; had he evinced the 
 courage, the activity, the resolution of Charles 
 I. of England, he would have triumphed."* The 
 emigiation of the nobility, indeed, deprived him 
 of the principal stay of the throne ; but it was 
 the known irresolution of his character which 
 was one main cause of that defection, by render- 
 ing the whole class of proprietors desperate, 
 when such a chief was at the head of affairs ; 
 and the prolonged struggle in Lyons and La 
 Vendee proved what elements of resistance re- 
 mained in the nation, even after they had with- 
 drawn. 
 
 The reign of injustice is not eternal ; no spe- 
 cial interposition of Providence is required to 
 arrest it; no avenging angel need descend to ter- 
 minate its wrathful course; it destroys itself by 
 its own violence: the avening angel is found in 
 the human heart. In vain the malice of his ene- 
 mies subjected Louis to every indignity; in vain 
 the executioners bound his arms, and the revolu- 
 tionaiy drums stifled his voice ; in vain the edge 
 of the guillotine destroyed his body, and his re- 
 mains were consigned to unhallowed ground ; 
 his spirit has triumphed over the wickedness of 
 his oppressors. From his death has begun a re- 
 action in favour of order and religion throughout 
 the globe. His sufferings have done more for 
 the cause of monai'chy than all the vices of his 
 predecessors had undone. 
 
 It is by the last emotions that the great impres- 
 sion on "mankind is made. In this view it was 
 eminently favourable to the interests of society 
 that the crisis of the French monarchy arrived in 
 the reign of Louis. It fell not during the days 
 of its splendour or its wickedness; under the 
 haughtiness of Louis XIV. or the infamy of Du 
 Barri ; it perished in the person of a spotless 
 monarch, who, most of all his subjects, loved the 
 people ; whose life had literally been spent in 
 doing good; whose failings, equally with his 
 
 Nap. in Las Casas, ii., 213. 
 
 virtues, should have protected him from popular 
 violence. Had he possessed more daring, he 
 would have been less unfortunate ; had he strenu- 
 ously supported the cause of royalty, he would 
 not have suffered from the fury of the populace ; 
 had he been more prodigal of the blood of others, 
 he would, in all probability, have saved his own. 
 But such warlike or ambitious (jualilies could 
 not with certainty have been relied upon to arrest 
 the Revolution : they would have postponed it to 
 another reign, but it might, under the rule of an 
 equally irresolute prince, have then come under 
 darker auspices, when the cessation of tyranny 
 had not extinguished the real cause of popular 
 complaint, and the virtue of the monarch had 
 not made unpardonable the fury of the people. 
 The catastrophe occurred when all the generous 
 feelings of our nature were awakened on the suf- 
 fering side ; to a sovereign who had done more 
 for the cause of freedom than all the ancestors of 
 his race ; whose forbearance had been rewarded 
 by encroachment ; meekness by licentiousness ; 
 aversion to violence by the thirst for human 
 blood. A monarch of a more energetic character 
 might have done more to postpone the Revolu- 
 tion ; none could have done so much to prevent 
 its recurrence. 
 
 Nor was the martyrdom of Louis lost to the 
 immediate interests of the cause for which he 
 suffered. His resignation in adversity, charity 
 in suff^ing, heroism in death, will never be for- 
 gotten. The terrors of the Republican reign, the 
 glories of the imperial throne, have passed away; 
 but the spotless termination of the monarch has 
 left an impression on mankind which will never 
 be effaced. In the darkest night of the moral 
 world, a flame has appeared in the tower of the 
 Temple, at first feeble and struggling for exist- 
 ence, but which now bums with a steady ray, 
 and has thrown a sainted light over the fall of 
 the French monarchy. , The days, indeed, of 
 superstition are past ; multitudes of pilgrims will 
 not throng to his tomb, and stone will not be worn 
 by the knees of his worshippers : but the days of 
 admiration for departed excellence will never be 
 past ; to his historic shrine will come the virtu- 
 ous and the pious through every succeeding age ; 
 his fate will be commiserated, his memory re- 
 vered, his murderers execrated, so long as justice 
 or mercy shall prevail upon the earth. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 157 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 STATE OF EUROPE PRIOR TO THE COMMENCEMENT OP THE WAR. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 State of Europe at the Commencement of the French Rev- 
 olution. — Great Excitement universally prevalent from its 
 Success. — Military and Naval Strength of Great Britain. 
 — Its Parties. — Mr. Pitt and Mr. Foi.— Mr. Burke. — Great 
 Division of Opinion on the Revolution between these Lead- 
 ers and the Wliigs and Tories. — State of Austria. — Mili- 
 tary Resources of the Imperial Dominions. — Austrian 
 Netherlands. — Destruction of the Barrier Fortresses by 
 the Emperor .Joseph. — Military State of Prussia and 
 Russia. — Its Army. — The Cossacks. — Poland. — Sweden. 
 — Ottoman Dominions. — Italy and Piedmont.— Spain and 
 Portugal. — Holland. — Switzerland. — France. — State of 
 Society m Europe at this Period. — Difference between the 
 Northern and Southern States in point of Military Cour- 
 age. — Internal State of France when Hostilities com- 
 menced. — Diplomatic Negotiations of the European Pow- 
 ers previous to the Commencement of the Contest. — State 
 and Termination of the War in Turkey, and gradual E.\- 
 tinclionof all other Jealousies and Hostilities. — Menacing 
 Language of the French to other States. — Treaty of Man- 
 tua. — Declaration of Pilnitz. — Not acted upon by the Al- 
 lies. — Revolutionary Party in France resolute on War. — 
 Declamations of the Girondists in favour of War. — Mutual 
 Recriminations, which lead to Hostilities. — Strict Neu- 
 trality of Great Britain. — Put an end to by the Revolution 
 of 10th August. — French System of Propagandism. — Their 
 Declaration of War against all Nations who do not adopt 
 their Principles of Government. — Alarm excited in Great 
 Britain by these Proceediogs. — Preparations for War in 
 England. — England declares War against France. — Gen- 
 eral Reflections on these Events. 
 
 " A REVOLUTION in France," says Napoleon, 
 " is always, sooner or later, followed by a revo- 
 lution in Europe." Placed in the centre of mod- 
 ern civilization, this great country has, in eve- 
 ry age, communicated the impulse of its own 
 changes to the adjoining states. Its situation is 
 too commanding to admit of its conquests being 
 disregarded by the neighbouring kingdoms ; its 
 moral influence too extensive to sutler them to 
 escape the communication of its prevailing prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 It was not to be expected that so great an event 
 as the French Revolution, rousing, as it did, the 
 passions of one, and exciting the apprehensions 
 of another portion of mankind, all the world over, 
 should long remain an object of passive observa- 
 tion to the adjoining states. It addressed itself 
 to the hopes and prejudices of the great body of 
 the people in every country, and, exciting their 
 ill-smothered indignation against their superiors, 
 superadded to the sense of real injuries the more 
 powerful stimulus of revohitionary ambition. 
 A ferment, accordingly, immediately began to 
 spread through the neighbouring kingdoms ; ex- 
 travagant hopes were formed, chimerical antici- 
 pations indulged, and the labouring classes, in- 
 flated by the rapid elevation of their brethren in 
 France, deemed the time approaching when the 
 distinctions of society were to cease, and the 
 miseries of poverty expii-e, amid the universal 
 dominion of the people. 
 
 A single successful revolution, the overthrow 
 
 „ . ..of one established government, will 
 Great excite- , , . ."^ , ' ,, 
 
 ment in Eu- spread such principles ; oceans ol 
 rope in conso- blood must be shed before they can 
 quence of the be extingui.shed. In the pursuit of 
 ktloif' ^'^'"*" Democratic ambition, men will sub- 
 mit to tyranny far severer than mon- 
 archical government can venture to impose ; in 
 
 the hope of elevating themselves on the ruins of 
 theii' superiors, they are content to forego all the 
 real blessings of their condition. Not all the 
 suflerings of Napoleon's reign, not the French 
 conscription, nor the retreat from Moscow, have 
 been able to extingui.sh this desire. More than 
 one generation have perished in the struggle, but 
 the ardent spirit is still the same, and springs up, 
 like the phcEnix, from the ashes of former exist- 
 ence. 
 
 The rise of this terrible spirit, destined to con- 
 vulse the globe, excited the utmost alarm in all 
 the European monarchies. From it sprang the 
 bloody wars of the French Revolution, under- 
 taken to crush the evil, but which at first tended 
 only to extend it, by ingrafting on the energy of, 
 Democratic ambition the power of militaiy con- 
 quest. With them began a new series of strifes ; 
 they terminated the contests of kings among each 
 another, and commenced that of one social prin- 
 ciple against another. Wars thenceforward be- 
 came the result of conflicting opinions rather than 
 contending interests, and the jealousies of sov- 
 ereigns among each other were forgotten in the 
 vehement animosities of their subjects. They 
 assumed a less interested but more terrible char- 
 acter; the passions which were roused brought 
 whole nations into the field, and the strife which 
 ensued involved everything which was most 
 dear to all classes of society.* 
 
 Austria, Russia, and England were at this 
 period the great powers of Europe ; they bore, ac- 
 cordingly, the principal part in the long and des- 
 perate struggle which ensued. Though little in- 
 clined for a contest, they were all in a situation 
 capable of great exertions. Years of repose had 
 fitted them to enter with unlettered resources 
 upon a theatre where unprecedented sacrifices 
 were to be required. 
 
 Nine years of peace had enabled Great Britain 
 to recover, in a great degree, the losses j, , , 
 and exhaustion of the American war. "^ ''" 
 If she had lost one empire in the Western, she 
 had gained another in the Eastern world: the 
 wealth of India began to pour into her bosom, 
 and a little island in the west of Europe already 
 exercised a sway over realms more extensive 
 than the amis of Rome had reduced to subjec- 
 tion. A vast revenue, amounting to £7,000,000, 
 was already derived from her Indian possessions ; 
 and, although nearly the whole of this great sum 
 was absorbed in their costly establishment, yet 
 her rulers already looked forward with confident 
 hope to the period, now never likely to be real- 
 ized, when the empire of Hindostan, instead of 
 being, as heretofore, a burden, should be a source 
 of revenue to the ruling state, and the wealth of 
 India really become that mine of gold to Britain 
 which it had long proved to numbers of her 
 children.t Her national debt, amounting to 
 £;214,000,000, and occasioning an annual charge 
 of £9,317,000, was, indeed, a severe burden upon 
 the industry of the people ; and the taxes, though 
 
 * Mig., i., 129. Lac, Pr. Hist., i., 199. 
 t Aim. Reg., x.\xiii., 153. 
 
158 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 State of li&^it in comparison of what have been 
 Great imposed in later times, were still felt as 
 Britain, oppressive ; but, nevertheless, the re- 
 sources ol the state had augmented to an extra- 
 ordinary degree during the repose which had pre- 
 vailed since the conclusion of the I'ormcr contest. 
 Commerce, agriculture, and manufactures had 
 rapidly increased ; the trade with the independent 
 states of North America had been found to ex- 
 ceed what had been enjoyed with them in a state 
 of colonial dependance; and the incessant ex- 
 ertions of every individual to better his condi- 
 tion, had produced a surprising eflect upon the 
 accumulation of capital and the state of public 
 credit. The three per cents., from 57, at the 
 close of the war, had risen to 99 ; and the over- 
 flowing wealth of the capital was already finding 
 its way into the mo.st circuitous foreign trades 
 and hazardous distant investments. The national 
 revenue amounted to i;iG,O0O,OOO, and the army 
 included 32,000 soldiers in the British isles, be- 
 sides an equal force in the East and West Indies, 
 and thirty-six regiments of yeomanry; but these 
 forces were rapidly augmented after the com- 
 mencement of the war, and, belbre 1796, the 
 regular army of Britain amounted to two hun- 
 dred and six thousand men, including forty-two 
 thousand militia. More than half of this force, 
 however, was required for the service of the 
 colonies; and experience has proved that Britain 
 can never collect above forty thousand men upon 
 any one point on the Continent of Europe. The 
 real strength of England consisted in her inex- 
 haustible wealth, in the public spirit and energy 
 of her people, in the moral influence of centuries 
 of glory, and in a fleet of a hundred and fifty 
 ships of the line, which gave her the undisputed 
 command of the seas.* 
 
 But, though abounding in all the resources, 
 England, at this period, had little of the moral 
 strength so necessary in war. During the dis- 
 astrous contest in America, the national glory 
 had been seriously tarnished. Two large armies 
 had laid down their arras to the enemy; and 
 even the ancient supremacy of the seas seemed 
 to have been put in hazard, when the combined 
 fleets of France and Spain rode triumphant in 
 the British Channel. The glorious defence of 
 Gibraltar alone had maintained the ancient celeb- 
 rity of the English arms ; nor was either the army 
 or the navy in such a state as to render any early 
 success probable. Abuses of the most flagrant 
 description existed in every department of the 
 land forces ; young me \ were appointed to com- 
 missions by purcha.se, or in consequence of par- 
 liamentary influence, without any knowledge of 
 their profession ; promotion was seldom awarded 
 to real merit ; and no academies or schools were 
 in existence to teach the inexperienced officer 
 even the rudiments of the military art. It was by 
 slow degrees, and in the school of adversity, that 
 the British army was improved, and her com- 
 manders rendered capable of turning to good ac- 
 cotmt that undaunted courage, which, in every 
 age, has formed the honourable characteristic of 
 the British people.t 
 
 England, like the other monarchies of Europe, 
 had slumbered on, contented, prosperous, and 
 for the most part inglorious, during the eigh- 
 teenth century. The bright aurora with which 
 it was ushered in, in the days of Eugene and 
 Marlborough, had afforded no true promise of 
 
 * Jom., i., 250. Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 124. Report of Fi- 
 nance Committee, May 10, 1791. SUte Papers. James, i. 
 Table j., App. Pebrcr'g Tables, 247. t Jom , i., 251. 
 
 the general character of the political era which 
 followed them : the fierce passions, the heart- 
 stirring feelings, the enduring energy of the civil 
 wars, had passed into the page of hi.story, and, 
 with the licentious profligacy of Charles II., were 
 pictured only in contemporary annals, or in the 
 reflecting mirror of the national theatre. The 
 arms of Frederic and the administration of Chat- 
 ham alone cast a fleeting lustre over the general 
 monotony of the period; but even their glories 
 were the result of the ambition of kings or the ri- 
 valry of cabinets, and partook not of the profound 
 interest of the theological contests which had pre- 
 ceded, or the political passions which followed 
 them. The strife of religion had ceased, that of 
 equality had not commenced; between the two 
 there intervened a long repose of a hundred years, 
 illustrated by few glories, stained by .still tewer 
 crimes, during which the fervour springing from 
 the former great convulsion insensibly expired, 
 and the seeds destined to produce a still fiercer col- 
 lision were gradually ripening to maturity. 
 
 It was a generally received opinion among the 
 philosophers and statesmen oi this period, that 
 society had at length assumed a settled and per- 
 manent fbnn ; that all the great causes of discord 
 had been extinguished, and that history would 
 never again have to commemorate the vehement 
 contentions and tragic incidents which had ari.sen 
 in an earlier period of human existence. Adam 
 Smith observed, that while the population of 
 America was doubling every five-and-twenty 
 years, that of Europe was slumbering on witn 
 an increase which would hardly arrive at the 
 same result in five Imndred ; while Gibbon la- 
 mented that the period of interesting incident 
 was past, and that the modern historian would 
 never again have to record the moving events 
 and dismal catastrophes of ancient story. Such 
 were the anticipations of the greatest men of the 
 age, on the verge of a peri.od destined to be illu.s- 
 trated by the blood of Robespierre, the constancy 
 of Pitt, and the triumphs of Nelson ; when the 
 human race, mowed down by the merciless 
 sword of Napoleon, was to spring up again with 
 an elasticity almost equalling the lar-iamed ra- 
 pidity of transatlantic increase.* 
 
 The opinions of the country, as might have 
 been expected on so great an event, were divided 
 on the French Revolution. The young, the ar- 
 dent, the philosophical, were .sanguine in their 
 expectations of its success ; a new era seemed to 
 have dawned upon the world; from the rise of 
 freedom in that great empire, the fetters of sla- 
 very and the bonds of superstition, appeared to 
 be dropping from the hands of the human race. 
 It was not merely the factious, the restless, and 
 the ambitious who entertained these opinions; 
 they were shared by many of the best and wisest 
 of men; and in England, it might with truth be 
 said, what an eloquent historian has observed 
 of Europe in general, + that the friends of the 
 French Revolution comprised at that period the 
 most enlightened and generous of the communi- 
 ty. It was not then that its tendency was, or 
 could be generally perceived.t 
 
 But if the changes in France were regarded 
 with favour by one, they were looked on with 
 
 * The population of Prussia is now dontiling- in 2fi ; that 
 of Britain in 42 ; that of Austria in 69 ; that of Franne in 
 105; that of Russia in 66 years. — Dupin, Force Com. de 
 France, i., 36. t Bot., i., 70. 
 
 i The derided Democrats in Great Britain at tlmt period 
 were by no means numerous. They were estrmated by Mr. 
 Burke, who wa« noways inclined to diminish tlie danjjers of 
 the time, at eighty thousand. — Burke, viii., 140, 141. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 159 
 
 Utter horror by another class of the community. 
 The great majority of the aristocratic body, all 
 the adherents of tne Church, all the liolders of 
 ofiice under the monarchy, in general the great 
 bulk of I lie opiikMit ranks of society, beheld them 
 ■\villi a|)pr<'li('nsion t)r aversion. Many ol' lliosc 
 who had lilc bclbre them rejoiced in the changes 
 which .society seemed about to undergo ; those 
 who had passed through it trembled at their ap- 
 proach : those who had nolhing to lose had no 
 tears of the consequences of innov'ation ; those 
 who had acquired, or inherited much, were justly 
 apprehensive that they would be the tirst objects 
 of spoliation. These were the general divisions 
 of society; but of course they were modihed by 
 the temper or habits of thought in dillereut in- 
 dividuals, and the pai'tisans oi' innovation num- 
 bered many id' the most ancient and illustrious 
 noble families among their supporters. 
 
 At the liead of the lirst party was Mr. Fox, the 
 eloqiu'nt and illustrious champion of 
 Mnm." 'Vecdom in every part of the world. 
 Descended of a noble family, he in- 
 herited the love of libertv, which hatl long been 
 hereditary in his race, and by the impetuous tor- 
 rent of his elofiuencc long maintained his place 
 as leader of the opposition of the IJritish Empire. 
 His talents for debate were of the very highest 
 order; and in the imftassionedenergy with which 
 he delivered his ojiiiiions, he never was exceeded 
 by any orator in the f'.nglish Parliament. Though 
 he was too indolent to have accpiired extensive 
 erudition, and was otlen indebted, like Mirabeau, 
 for the facts connected with the subjects of dis- 
 cu.ssion rather to the industry of others than his 
 own research, yet no one could make a more 
 skilful use of the information with which he was 
 furnished, or gathered in the course of debate; 
 or descant with )noro originality on a suliject 
 apparently exhausted by the etibrts of others. 
 Profuse, dissipated, and irregular in private life, 
 he had none of the weight, ever so jiowerful in 
 England, which arises from the purity of per- 
 sonal character; but amid all his frailties, the 
 warmth of his heart aiul generosity of his dispo- 
 sitit)n secured the ardent at.tachmenlof a n<imcr- 
 ous body of privatt' friends, embracing a large 
 proportion of the ablest men anel oldest lamilies 
 in the state ; while his vehen^entantl impassioned 
 oratory readily commanded the admiration oH 
 that numerous class who longed after more popu- 
 lar governmeJit, or the general license of a revo- 
 lution. But his intellect was not e(]ual to his 
 eloquence; his judgment was inferior to his de- 
 bating power: sincere in his atlaclunent to free- 
 dom, lie advocated, during the best part of his 
 life, a political system which was entailing upon 
 the country where it arose' the most degrading 
 bondage; jiassionately devott^'d to the cause of 
 liberty, he continued constant in his ailmiration 
 ol' those frantic innovations which, more than 
 the coalition of kings, against which the thunders 
 of his eloquence were dirccleti rendered impos- 
 sible its duration in the lirst of European mon- 
 ari'hies. 
 
 Mr. Pitt Wvis the leader of the second party, 
 which, at the commencement of the French Rev- 
 olution, was in the full inissession of government, 
 and supiHirted by a decided majority in both 
 houses of Parliament. Motlern hi.-^tory has hard- 
 ly so great a character to exliibit. Inheriting 
 irom his father, the (irst Lord Chatham, a patri- 
 otic and truly British spirit, lie early imbibed, 
 at the same time, a strong attachment to those 
 liberal prineij'les on which the administration 
 
 of that illustrious man was founded, and which 
 had given to his government such general and 
 deserved popularity. His early career was chief- 
 ly distinguished by these .sentiments, and his great 
 abilities, from the very first, gave him a distin- 
 guished place in Parliament; but circumstances 
 soon arose which called forth the latent powers 
 of his mind, and exhibited in full lustre the in- 
 domitable firmness of his character. Mr. Fox 
 and Lord North had formed a coalition, after 
 their chiefcau.se of discord had been extinguish- 
 ed by the termination of the American war; and, 
 strong in the possession of an apparently invin- 
 cible majority in the lower house, had ventured 
 upon the bold measure of bringing in a bill 
 which look from the East India Company the 
 government of India, and vested it in certain 
 commissioners, to be appointed, not by the crown, 
 but by the House of Commons. It is impossible 
 to doubt that such a change, if carried into exe- 
 cution, would have subverted the Constitution, 
 by the establishment of an iitrpcrium- in impcrio, 
 jiosscssedof greater authority and inlluence than 
 the executive. But this catastrophe was averted 
 by the firnmess and sagacity of the monarch who 
 then held the British sceptre. Perceiving at once 
 the full extent of the danger — well aware, in the 
 emphatic words of Lord Thuiiow, " that this 
 bill, if carried, would take the crown from the 
 king's head and jilace it on that of Mr. Fox,"* 
 he instantly resolved to interpose his influence 
 to prevent it from passing into a law, and, if 
 necessary, retire to Hanover rather than continue 
 in Britain, the mere instrument of a parliament- 
 aiy oligarchy. By his exertions, the bill, after 
 having passed the Commons by a great majorit}'^, 
 was thrown out by a slender majori- j, „ ,-„„ 
 ty in the House of Lords; and this led ' ' 
 to the immediate resignation of the coalition 
 ministry. The king instantly sent lor Mr. Pitt, 
 and on the l'2lh of January, 1784, he took lus 
 seat in the House of Commons as chancellor of 
 the exchequer. 
 
 Never did a more arduous struggle await a 
 minister. The opposition, led by the impetu- 
 ous energy of Fox, aided by the experienced in- 
 fluence and admirable temper of Lord Ncu'th, 
 were possessed of a great majority in the lower 
 house, and treated at first with the utmost scorn 
 this attempt on the part of a young man of six- 
 and-twenty to dispossess them of the government. 
 But it was soon evident that his talents were 
 e()ual to the task, how arduous and apparently 
 hopeless soever. Invincible in resolution, and 
 yet cool in danger; possessed of a moral courage 
 which nothing coula overcome ; fertile in resour- 
 ces, powerful in debate, eloquent in declamation 
 — he exhibitcil a combination of great qualities 
 which for political cotUcsts never was excelled. 
 A inire and irreproachable private character 
 gave his opponents no weak side wherein to as- 
 sail the panoply with which he was surrounded: 
 a temperament, the energies of which were whol- 
 ly concentrated on national objects, left him no 
 room for s(dfish passion or private gratification. 
 Incorrupt ible, though wielding the wealtli o( Eng- 
 land and the Indies; fearles.s^ though combating 
 alone the whole weight of an apparently irresist- 
 ible opposition; cool, though tried by all the 
 means which could overcome the firmest pa- 
 tience; cautious when prudence coimselled re- 
 serve; energetic and eloquent when the moment 
 for action had airived, he successfully withstood 
 
 * Pari. Hist., ixiv., 125. 
 
160 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 Ihe most formidable parliamentaiy majority 
 which had appeared in English history since the 
 Revolution, and ultimately remained victorious 
 in the struggle. An administration thus tried in 
 its infancy was proof against any other danger in 
 its maturer years : the intellect of its head clear- 
 ly and at once perceived both the peril of the 
 French revolutionary principles, and the expedi- 
 ence of making no attempt by external means to 
 check its progress ; and, fortunatelj'^ for the cause 
 of freedom throughout the world, that great con- 
 vulsion found the British government in the 
 hands of one alike friendly to the cause of free- 
 dom, and hostile to the excesses which so often 
 lead to its destruction. An attentive observer of 
 the progress of the Revolution, therefore, he cau- 
 tiously abstained from any act which might in- 
 volve England in any hostility with its distract- 
 ed neighbour; and, though strongly pressed in 
 the outset to take a part in the struggle, he main- 
 tained a strict neutrality when the German ar- 
 mies had penetrated to the very heart of France, 
 and the moment seemed to have arrived when it 
 was possible to terminate, by a single hostile 
 demonstration, the rivalry of four centuries. 
 
 Mr. Burke was the leader of a third party, 
 Mr B k composed of the old Whigs, who sup- 
 ported the principles of the English, but 
 opposed those of the French Revolution. This 
 celebrated man had long combated in the ranks 
 of opposition with Mr. Fox, and the warmest pri- 
 vate friendship had cemented their political alli- 
 ance ; but on the breaking out of the French 
 Revolution they embraced different views.* Mr. 
 Fox warmly applauded its principles, and decla- 
 red in the House of Commons that "the new Con- 
 stitution of France was the most stupendous and 
 glorious edifice of liberty which had been erect- 
 ed on the foundation of human integrity in any 
 age or country." Mr. Burke, on the other hand, 
 gifted with greater political sagacity and fore- 
 sight, early exerted his talents to oppose the lev- 
 elling principles which that convulsion had in- 
 troduced ; and his work on the French Revolu- 
 tion produced, perhaps, a greater impression on 
 the public mind than any which has yet appear- 
 ed in the world. It abounds in eloquent passa- 
 ges, profound wisdom, and discriminating tal- 
 ent ; but vast as its influence and unbounded as 
 its reputation were when it first appeared, its val- 
 ue was not fully understood till the progress of 
 events had demonstrated the justice of its princi- 
 ples. The division on this vital question for- 
 ever alienated these illustrious men from each 
 other, and drew tears from both in the House 
 of Commons : an emblem of the effects of this 
 heart-stirring event upon the charities of private 
 life, of the variance which it introduced into the 
 bosom of domestic families, and between friend- 
 ships which " had stood the strain of a whole life- 
 time."t 
 
 The occasion on which this momentous sep- 
 ^. . aration took place Avas in the debate 
 
 twren°Mr OH the new Constitution proposed for 
 Burke and the provinces of Canada in 1791 : a 
 Mr. Fox on remarkable coincidence when the sub- 
 the French sequent events in that colony are ta- 
 Constitution. j^^^^ .^^^^ consideration, and the vehe- 
 ment strife between the monarchical and repub- 
 lican principles of which it afterward became the 
 theatre. So strongly did both these illustrious 
 statesmen, but especially Mr. Burke, feel on the 
 all-engrossing topic of the French Revolution, 
 
 ' Aan. Reg., xxxiii., 114. 
 
 tld.,ib., 136. 
 
 that they mutually introduced it into almost all 
 the debates which took place in the House of 
 Commons at that period ; and it was especially 
 the subject of vehement and impassioned decla- 
 mation on occasion of the debate on Mr. April 15, 
 Baker's motion relative to a war with 1791. 
 Russia, and the first introduction of the -^-P^^ S. 
 Canada Government Bill, subjects which not 
 unnaturally led to the supposed tendency of the 
 French Revolution on the external relations and 
 internal happiness of nations. From that time 
 a nipture between these two great men was dis- 
 tinctly foreseen both by their friends and the pub- 
 lic. It was, in truth, unavoidable, and is to be 
 regarded as the index to the schism which must 
 ensue in cveiy free community on occasion of 
 strong democratic excitement, between those who 
 adhere to the landmarks of the past and those 
 who are willing to adventme on the dark sea of 
 future innovation. Still, however, the external 
 appearances of friendship were maintained be- 
 tween them ; they visited, though not so frequent- 
 ly as in former years ; and on the 6th of May, 
 when the Canada Bill was debated in commit- 
 tee, they not only walked to the House together, 
 but Mr. Fox treated Mr. Burke, in a previous 
 conversation, with confidence, and mentioned to 
 him a political circumstance of some delicacy. 
 But the feelings of the latter were too ardent to 
 be restrained : the future, big with disaster, re- 
 vealed itself so clearly to his view that it oblit- 
 erated the past, overshadowed the present; and 
 in the debate which followed on that night, these 
 two illustrious men were forever severed, the pop- 
 ular party in Great Britain permanently rent in 
 twain. The debates on this subject possess the 
 highest interest. They not only embrace the 
 most thrilling event in the biogi'aphy of both, but 
 they constitute an era in the history of Europe du- 
 ring its most eventful period — the destinies of 
 civilization hung upon their words.* 
 
 On the part of Mr. Fox, it was urged on this 
 occasion, and in the previous debate Argument of 
 on the Russian armament, " Without Mr. Fox for 
 entering into the question whether t'^e French 
 hereditary honours are in themselves ^^''^olut'""- 
 an advantage or an evil, the point which the 
 House has now to consider is. Whether there is 
 anything in them so peculiarly advantageous as 
 to incline us to introduce them into a country 
 where the)' are imknown, and by such means dis- 
 tinguish Canada from all the other colonies of 
 the New World. In countries Avhere they make 
 a part of the constitution, it is not wise to destroy 
 them; but it is a very different matter to give 
 them birth and life in a countiy where they at 
 present do not exist. It is impossible to account 
 lor such an attempt, except on the principle that, 
 as Canada was formerly a French colony, there 
 might be an opportunity of reviving those titles 
 of honour, the extinction of which some gentle- 
 men so much deplore, and of rcAaving in the West 
 that spirit of chivalry which has fallen into dis- 
 grace in a neighbouring country. Are those red 
 and blue ribands, which have lost their lustre in 
 the Old World, again to shine forth in the Newl 
 What can be so absurd as to introduce heredita- 
 ry honours in the New World, where they are 
 so much the object of undisguised aversion*? 
 The proposed upper chamber would be equally 
 objectionable if the council were hereditary, for 
 such an assembly would be nothing more than a 
 tool in the hands of the royal authority. Equal- 
 
 Part. Deb., xxix., 362 ; and Burke's Speeches, iv., 2, 3. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 161 
 
 ly objectionable is the clause for making provis- 
 ion lor the Protestant clergy, by enacting that, in 
 all grants l)y the crown of unappropriated lands, 
 one seventti should be given to the Protestant 
 clergy. What can be so monstrous as such a 
 I'lmdamental rule in a country where the great 
 bulk of the people are Catholics 1 Even il they 
 were all Protestants it would still be objectiona- 
 ble; how much more so, therefore, when the 
 whole oi' the Protestants, such as they are, are 
 much subdivided, and the large proportion of 
 them are Presbyterians, Dissenters, or subordi- 
 nate sects. 
 
 " Feeble as my powers are in comparison 
 with my honourable friend's, whom I must call 
 my ma^ster, for everything tliat I know in poli- 
 tics 1 owe to him, 1 should yet ever be ready 
 to maintain my principles even against his su- 
 perior eloquence. I will maintain that the rights 
 of man, which he states as chimerical and vis- 
 ionary, are, in fact, the basis and Ibundation of 
 every rational constitution, and even of the Brit- 
 i.'^h Constitution itself, as the statute-book abun- 
 dantly proves; for what is the original compact 
 between king and people there recognised but 
 tlie recognition of the inherent rights of the peo- 
 ple as men, which no prescription can super- 
 sede, and no accident remove or obliterate 1 
 
 " If these principles are dangerous to the Con- 
 stitution, they are the principles of my right 
 honourable friend, from whom I learned them. 
 During the American war we have together re- 
 joiced at the success of a Washington, and 
 mourned almost in tears for the fate of a Mont- 
 gomery. From him I have learned that the re- 
 volt of a whole people cannot be the result of in- 
 citement or encouragement, but must have pro- 
 ceeded from provocation. Such was his doc- 
 trine when he said, Avith equal energy and em- 
 phasis, that he could not draw a bill of indict- 
 ment against a whole people. I grieve to find 
 that he has since learned to draw such an in- 
 dictment, and to crown it with all the technical 
 epithets which disgrace our statute-book, such 
 as false, malicious, wicked, by the instigation of 
 the devil, or not having the i'ear of God before 
 your eyes. Taught by my right honourable 
 friend that no revolt of a nation can spring but 
 from provocation, I could not help feeling joy 
 ever since the Constitution of France was found- 
 ed on the rights of man, the basis on which the 
 British Constitution itself is rested. To vilify 
 it is neither more nor less than to libel the Brit- 
 ish Constitution; and no book my right hon- 
 ourable friend can write, how able soever, no 
 speech he can deliver, how eloquent soever, can 
 induce me to change or abandon that opinion. 
 
 " I was formerly the strenuous advocate for 
 the balance of power, when France was that 
 intriguing, restless nation which she had for- 
 merly proved. Now that the situation of France 
 i.s altered, and that she has erected a government, 
 from which 7ieit/ier insult nor injury can be appre- 
 hended by her neighimirs, I am extremely indif- 
 ferent concerning the balance of power, and 
 shall continue so till I see other nations combine 
 the same power with the same principles of gov- 
 ernment as that of Old France. The true prin- 
 ciple of the balance of power is not to keep ev- 
 ery_ state exactly in its former condition, for that 
 is impossible, but to prevent any one obtaining 
 such an ascendency as to be dangerous to the 
 rest. No man can say that Russia will be the 
 successor of France in'this respect. Her extent 
 of territory, scanty population, and limited reve- 
 VOL. I.— X 
 
 nue, render her power by no means formidable 
 to us; she is a power whom we can neither at- 
 tack nor be attacked by; and is it with such a 
 power we are to commence hostilities in order 
 to prop up the decaying Turkish Empire, the 
 overtluow of which would be more likely to 
 prove advantageous than injurious to our inter- 
 ests 1 If we compare the present state of France 
 with its past condition, both as respects the poli- 
 tics of Europe and the happiness of the people, 
 even those who most detest the Revolution must 
 see reason to rejoice in its eflects. I cannot but 
 applaud the government of France, in its inter- 
 nal tendency, as good, because it aims at the 
 happiness oi' those who are subject to it. Differ- 
 ent opinions may be entertained by different men 
 as to the change of .system that has taken place 
 in that country; but I, for one, admire the Con- 
 stitution of France, considered altogether as the 
 most stupendous and glorious edifice of liberty 
 which has been erected on the foundations of 
 human integrity in any age or country."* 
 
 Mr. Burke commenced his reply in a grave 
 and solemn tone, befitting the solem- 
 nity of the occasion, and the rending aJfms'n't'bT 
 asunder of ties which had endured Mr. Burke, 
 unbroken for a quarter of a century, and rupture 
 "The house," said he, "is now call- between 
 ed upon to do a high and important '"^' 
 act: to appoint a legislature for a distant people, 
 and to alfirm its own competency to the exercise 
 of such a power. On what foundation is such 
 an assumption to rest ] Not, surely, on a vague 
 conception of the rights of man ; for, if such a 
 doctrine is admitted, all that the house should 
 do is to call together the whole male inhabitants 
 of Canada, and decide by a majority of their 
 votes what form of government they are to re- 
 ceive. Setting aside so absurd a proposition, 
 on what must this house found its competence 
 to legislate at all on this matter 1 Clearly on 
 the law of nations, and the acquired title so to 
 legislate from the right of conquest, and a ces- 
 sation of the rights of the old government, ob- 
 tained by us in the treaty which confiimed it. 
 These principles bind us to legislate in an equi- 
 table manner for the people of Canada, and they 
 are, in return, to owe allegiance to us. The 
 question is. On what basis is this new govern- 
 ment to be formed '? Are we to frame it accord- 
 ing to the light of the English Constitution, or by 
 the glare of the new lanterns of the clubs at 
 Paris and London! 
 
 " In determining this point, we are not to imi- 
 tate the example of countries which have disre- 
 garded circumstances, torn asimder the bonds of 
 society and the ties of nature. To the Constitu- 
 tion of America, doubtless, great attention is 
 due, and it is of importance that the people of 
 Canada should have nothing to envy in the Con- 
 stitution of a neighbouring state. But it is 
 plain that they have not the same elements for 
 the enjoyment of republican freedom which ex- 
 ist in the United States. The people of Ameri- 
 ca have a Constitution as well adapted to their 
 character and circumstances as they could have; 
 but that character and these circumstances are 
 essentially diflerent from that of the French 
 Canadians. The Americans have derived from 
 their Anglo-Saxon descent a certain quantity 
 of phlegm, of old English good-nature, that fits 
 them better for a republican government. They 
 
 * Pari. Hist.,xxxix., 107, 248,379; and Fox's Speeches, 
 1 iv., 217, 204, 199. 
 
162 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 had also a republican education ; their form of 
 internal government was republican, and the 
 principles and vices of it have been restrained 
 by the beneficence of an overruling monarchy in 
 this country. The formation of their Constitu- 
 tion was preceded by a long war, in the course 
 of which, by militaiy discipline, they had learn- 
 ed order, submission, and command, and a re- 
 gard for great men. Thev had learned what a 
 king of Sparta had said was the great wisdom 
 to be learned in his country, the art of com- 
 manding and obeying. The'y were trained to 
 government by war, not by plots, murders, and 
 assassinations. 
 
 " But what are we to say to the ancient Cana- 
 dians, who, being the most numerous, are en- 
 titled to the greatest attention'? Are we to give 
 them the French Constitution — a constitution 
 founded on principles diametrically opposite to 
 ours, that could not assimilate with it in a sin- 
 gle point; as different from it as wisdom from 
 folly, as vice from virtue, as the most opposite 
 extremes in nature — a constitution foimded on 
 what was called the rights of man 1 But let this 
 constitution be examined by its practical effects 
 in the French West India colonies. These, not- 
 withstanding three disastrous wars, were most 
 happy and flourishing till they heard of the rights 
 of man. As soon as this system arrived among 
 them. Pandora's box, replete with every mortal 
 evil, seemed to fly open, hell itself to yawn, and 
 ever}' demon of mischief to overspread the face 
 of the earth. Blacks rose against whites, whites 
 against blacks, and each against the other, in 
 murderous hostility ; subordination were de- 
 stroyed, the bonds of society torn asunder, and 
 every man seemed to thirst for the blood of his 
 neighbour. 
 
 ' Black spirits and white, blue spirits and gray, 
 Mingle, mingle, mingle.' 
 
 All was toil and trouble, discord and blood, from 
 the moment that this doctrine was promulgated 
 among them ; and I verily believe that wherever 
 the rights of man are preached, such ever have 
 been, and ever will be the consequences. France, 
 "who had generously sent them the precious gift 
 of the rights of man, did not like this image of 
 herself reflected in her child, and sent out a body 
 of troops, well seasoned too with the rights of 
 man, to restore order and obedience. These 
 troops, as soon as they arrived, instructed as 
 they were in the principles of government, felt 
 themselves boimd to become parties in the gen- 
 eral rebellion, and, like most of their brethren at 
 home, began asserting their rights by cutting off 
 the head of their general. 
 
 "Dangerous doctrines are now encouraged in 
 this countr}', and dreaded consequences may en- 
 sue from them, which it is my sole wish and 
 ambition to avert, by strenuously supporting, in 
 all its parts, the British Constitution. The prac- 
 tice now is, with a certain party, to bestow upon 
 aU occasions the very highest praise upon the 
 French Constitution, and it is immaterial wheth- 
 er this praise be bestowed upon the Constitution 
 or the Revolution of that country, since the latter 
 has led directly to the fonner. To such a length 
 has this infatuation been carried, that whoever 
 now disapproves of the anarchy and confusion 
 that have taken place in France, or does not sub- 
 scribe to the opinion that order and liberty are to 
 emanate from it, is forthwith stigmatized as an 
 enemy to the British Constitution — a charge 
 equally false, unfair, and calumnious. Doc- 
 
 trines of this sort are at all times dangerous, but 
 they become doubly so when they are sanctioned 
 by so great a name as that of the right honoura- 
 ble gentleman, who always puts his opinions in 
 the clearest and most forcible light, and who 
 has not hesitated, in this very debate, to call the 
 French Constitution the most glorious and stu- 
 pendous fabric ever reared by human wisdom. 
 
 " That Constitution, or Revolution, or whatever 
 they choose to call it, can never serve the cau.se 
 of liberty, but will inevitably promote tyranny, 
 anarchy, and revolution. I have never enter- 
 tained ideas of government diflerent from those 
 which I now maintain. Monaixhy, I have al- 
 ways thought, is the basis of all good govern- 
 ment ; and the nearer to monarchy any govern- 
 ment approaches, the more perfect it is, and vice 
 versa. Those who are anxious to subvert the 
 Constitution are now, indeed, few in number in 
 this country ; but can we be sure that this will 
 always be the case, or that the time may never 
 come, when, imder the influence of scarcity or 
 tumult, the monarchical institutions of the coun- 
 try may be threatened with overthrow 1 Now, 
 then, is the time to crush this diabolical spirit, 
 and watch, with the greatest vigilance, the slight- 
 est attempt to subvert the British Constitution. 
 
 " It is perhaps indiscretion at any period, but 
 especially at my advanced years, to provoke 
 enemies, or give friends an occasion for deser- 
 tion ; but if a firm and steady adherence to the 
 British Constitution should place me in such a 
 dilemma, I will risk all, and with my last words 
 exclaim, Fly from the French Constitution." 
 " There is no loss of friends," said Mr. Fox. 
 " Yes," said Mr. Burke, " there is a loss of 
 friends. I know the price of my conduct: I 
 have done my duty at the price of him I love : 
 our friendship is at an end. With my last breath 
 I will earnestly entreat the two right honourable 
 gentlemen who are the great rivals in this house 
 that, whether they hereafter move in the political 
 hemisphere as two flaming meteors, or walk to- 
 gether like brethren, hand in hand, to preserve 
 and cherish the British Constitution ; to guard it 
 against innovation, and save it from the dangers 
 of theoretic alterations. It belongs to the infinite 
 and unspeakable Power, the Deity, who with 
 his ann hurls a comet, like a projectile, out of 
 its course, and enables it to endure the sun's 
 heat and the pitchy darkness of the chilly night, 
 to aim at the formation of infinite perfection ; to 
 tis, poor, weak, incapable mortals, there is no 
 safe rule of conduct but experience."* 
 
 Mr. Fox rose to reply, but tears for some time 
 choked his utterance, and they con- t,, - , 
 tinued to roll dowm his cheeks even separation 
 for some time after he had begun his 
 speech. He commenced by expre.ssing, in the 
 strongest terms, his love and affection for Mr. 
 Burke, which had begun with his boyhood, and 
 remained unbroken for five-and-twenty years; 
 but by degrees the subject of their present di- 
 \'ision again rushed upon his mind, and, al- 
 though he called him his right honourable friend, 
 yet it was evident to all that their friendship was 
 at an end. A meeting of the Whigs was held to 
 consider this great schism which had broken out 
 in their party, and the following resolution ap- 
 peared in their official journal, the „ .^ j^g. 
 Morning Chronicle, on the subject. "^ ' 
 " The great and firm body of the Whigs of Eng- 
 
 * Pari. Deb., iiix., 364, 366, 380, 388; and Burke'a 
 Speeches, iv., 3, 6, 9, 17, 23. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 163 
 
 Sand, true to their principles, have decided on the 
 dispute between Mr. Fox and Mr. Burke ; and 
 the former is declared to have maintained the 
 pure doctrines by which they are bound together, 
 and upon which they have invariably acted. 
 The consequence is, that Mr. Burke retires 
 from Parliament." Mr. Burke, in alluding to 
 tliis resolution, said, on the same night, that he 
 knew he was excommunicated by one party, and 
 that he was too old to seek another;* and though 
 in his age he had been so unfortunate as to meet 
 tliis disgrace, yet he disdained to make any re- 
 cantation, and did not care to solicit the friend- 
 ship of any man in the house, either on one side 
 or the other. 
 
 Nothing can be imagined more characteristic 
 . of both these illustrious men, and of 
 
 on the event. '^^ views of the parties of which they 
 severally were the heads, than the 
 speeches now given. On the one side are to be 
 seen warm aflection, impassioned feeling, phil- 
 antlrropic ardour, vehemence of expression, 
 worthy of the statesman who has been justly 
 styled, by no common man, " the mo.st Demos- 
 thenian orator since the days of Demosthenes ;'''t 
 on the other, an ardent mind, a burning elo- 
 quence, a foresight chastened by observation of 
 the past, benevolence restrained by anticipation 
 of the future. In the ardour of the latter in sup- 
 port of the truths with which he was so deeply 
 impressed, there is perhaps some reason to la- 
 ment the undue asperity of indignant prophecy; 
 in the former, too great stress laid upon political 
 consistency under altered times. But time, the 
 great test of truth, has now resolved the justice 
 of the respective opinions thus eloquently ad- 
 vanced, and thrown its verdict with decisive 
 weight into the scale with Mr. Burke. There 
 is, perhaps, not to be found in the whole historj' 
 of Imman anticipation a more signal instance 
 of erroneous views than were advanced by Mr. 
 Fox, when he said that the French Constitution 
 was the most stupendous fabric of wisdom ever 
 reared in any age or countiy ; that no danger 
 wa.s to be apprehended from the balance of pow- 
 er in Europe, now that France had obtained 
 democratic institutions ; and that, if it was sub- 
 verted, no peril was to be apprehended to Euro- 
 pean liberty from the power or ambition of Rus- 
 sia. On the other hand, all must admit the ex- 
 traordinary sagacity with which Mr. Burke not 
 merely predicted the consequences to itself and 
 to Europe, which necessarily would arise from 
 tJie convulsions in France, but also pointed out 
 so clearly that vital distinction between the An- 
 glo-Saxon and the Gallic race on the shores of 
 the St. Lawrence, and the remarkable difference 
 in their capacity to bear democratic institutions, 
 which was destined not to produce its natural ef- 
 fects for half a century, and of which we are 
 now only beginning to see the ultimate results. 
 
 Unwearied in perseverance, firm in purpose, 
 ^^ unchangeable in ambition, the Austrian 
 
 AustrTa. government was the most formidable ri- 
 val with whom the French Republic had 
 to anticipate a contest on the Continent of Europe. 
 This great empire, containing at that time nearly 
 twenty-five millions of inhabitants, with a reve- 
 nue of ninety million florins, numbered the rich- 
 est and most fertile districts of Europe among its 
 provinces. The manufacturing wealth of Flan- 
 ders, the agricultural riches of Lombardy, added 
 not less to the pecuniary resources than the en- 
 
 * Burke's Speeches, iv., 34, 38. 
 
 t Mackintosh. 
 
 ergetic valour of the Hungarians, and the impet- 
 uous zeal of the Tyrolese, to the militaiy strength 
 of the Empire. The possession of the Low 
 Countries gave them an advanced post, former- 
 ly strongly Ibrtified, immediately in contact with 
 the French frontier ; while the mountains of the 
 Tyrol fonned a vast fortress, garrisoned by an 
 attached and warlike people, and placed at a sa- 
 lient angle between Germany and Italy, the cer- 
 tain theatre of future combats. Her armies, 
 numerous and highly disciplined, had acquired 
 immortal renown in the wars of Maria Theresa, 
 and maintained a creditable place, under Daun 
 and Laudohu, in the scientific campaigns with 
 the great Frederic. Her government, nominal- 
 ly a monarchy, but really an oligarchy, in the 
 hands of the great nobles, possessed all that firm- 
 ness and tenacity of purpose by which aristo- 
 cratic powers have always been distinguished, 
 and which, under unparalleled difficulties and 
 disasters, has brought them at last successfully 
 through the long struggle in which they were 
 shortly after engaged.* 
 
 Maria Theresa was the soul of the Austrian 
 monarchy ; it was her heroic spirit, sage admin- 
 istration, and popular character, which brought 
 its fortunes safe through the terrible crisis that 
 occurred in the middle of the eighteenth centu- 
 r}^, and laid the foundation of its present gran- 
 deur and prosperity. At the acce.ssion of her 
 son Joseph II. in 1780, new maxims of govern- 
 ment succeeded : the ancient spirit of the mon- 
 archy seemed about to expire. His mind wa.s 
 cultivated, his views benevolent, his habits sim- 
 ple ; but these amiable qualities were combined 
 with others of a more dangerous nature. An 
 ardent reformer, a philanthropic philosopher, he 
 was impatient to change everything in the civil, 
 religious, and military administration of his vast 
 states ; and in the warmth of his benevolence, 
 urged on many reforms neither called for nor de- 
 sired by his subjects. Endowed with an ardent 
 and innovating temperament, he at the same 
 time was animated by a desire for territorial 
 acquisition and military glory. Strongly im- 
 pressed with the inconvenience and expense at- 
 tending the possession of the Low Countries, 
 so much exposed to France, so far removed 
 from the hereditary states, and relying on the 
 support of Catharine, empress of Russia, in 
 whose ambitious designs on Turkey he was 
 participant, he was extremely desirous of incor- 
 porating Bavaria with his va.st possessions, by 
 giving the Elector the Low Countries in ex- 
 change, with the title of king. Frederic of 
 Prussia instantly sounded the alann on this dan- 
 gerous proposal, and by his influence a treaty 
 was concluded at Berlin between Prus.sia, Sax- 
 on}', and Hanover, which was the last act of 
 that great man, and for a time caused this ambi- 
 tious project on the part of Austria to 
 miscarry. But the imperial cabinet ]^^ 
 never lost sight of the design, and their 
 attempts to carry it into execution during the 
 course of the revolutionary' war, became, as will 
 appear in the sequel, the "source of numberless 
 calamities to themselves and to Europe.t 
 
 The Austrian forces, at the commencement 
 of the war, amounted to two hundred and forty 
 thousand infantry, thirty-five thousand cavalry, 
 and one hundred thousand artillery; but the ex- 
 tent and warlike spirit of their dominions fur- 
 nished inexhaustible resources for the mainte- 
 
 Haid., i., 33. 
 
 t Hard., i., 32, 36. 
 
164 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIL 
 
 nance of the contest. Sincere and honest in 
 principle, attached to old institutions, and pow- 
 erfully swayed by religion, the inhabitants of 
 her varied dominions were, with the exception 
 of some of the Italian provinces, unanimous 
 in their horror of the French republican prin- 
 ciples, while the power and firm ascendant of 
 the nobility gave steadiness and consistence to 
 their eflbris to oppo.se it. The cavalry was in 
 the finest order, and performed splendid services 
 during the course of the war; but the infantiy, 
 though well adapted for plain fighting in a good 
 position, was incapable of the energetic move- 
 ments which tne new system of militaiy opera- 
 tions required, and was disgraced by the fre- 
 quent occurrence of large bodies laying down 
 their arms. The provinces of Croatia, Transyl- 
 vania, and the Bannat, lying on the frontier of 
 Turkey, were organized in a militaiy manner; 
 all the" inhabitants were trained to the use of 
 arms, from whence the government derived in- 
 exhaustible supplies of irregular troops. Hun- 
 gar)' and the Low Countries fomied the elite of 
 the infantrj', and composed the principal part of 
 the imperial guard. The cavalry, admirably 
 mounted, were skilled in all the movements of 
 war, and the artillery respectable and in good 
 equipment ; but the officers of the infantiy were 
 deficient in military information, and the sol- 
 diers, though well disciplined, wanted the fire 
 and vivacity of the French troops.* 
 
 The Flemish dominions of Austria had re- 
 Austrian cently been the theatre of a revolt so dif- 
 Nether- ferent from that of France, that it is diffi- 
 lands. cult to conceive how they could both 
 have arisen in countries so near each other in 
 the same age of the world. The Emperor Jo- 
 seph II. had alienated the affections of these 
 provinces by the proposal to exchange them for 
 Bavaria, a project which was only prevented from 
 taking efiect by the armed intervention of Prus- 
 sia ; and next excited their alanns by a variety 
 of reforms, founded on philosophical principles, 
 but totally unsuited to the character and degiee 
 of information possessed by the people. At 
 length the proposal to give a colony of Genevese 
 and Swiss, established near Ostend, the free ex- 
 ercise of their religion, brought matters to a 
 crisis; the universities protested against the in- 
 novation, and he repliett by abolishing the seig- 
 norial jurisdictions, and authorizing the sale of 
 a great proportion of the estates of the monaster- 
 ies, establishing schools independent of the clerg}', 
 and curtailing the privileges of the estates by in- 
 troducing iniendants, who almost superseded 
 their authority. These changes excited a uni- 
 versal spirit of disaffection in the provinces, and 
 led to a measured the most extraordinary and 
 the most fatal which modern history has to re- 
 cord. 
 
 The barrier towns of the Netherlands, extorted 
 Destruction ^0°! France after so much blood- 
 of the barrier shed, or erected at so vast an expen.se, 
 fortresses. were demolished, and the level coun- 
 try left open and unprotected, to invite the in- 
 vasion of their enterprising neighbours. It seem- 
 ed as if the emperor imagined that the marriage 
 of his sister, Marie Antoinette, had made the 
 union between the two kingdoms perpetual ; and 
 that his whole danger arose from the discontented 
 disposition of his own .subjects. '• Europe," says 
 Jomini, "beheld with astonishment those cele- 
 
 brated fortresses, so famous in former wars, de- 
 molished by the very power which had construct- 
 ed them ; and the l-'lemings, proud of the recol- 
 lections with which they were a.ssociated, sighed 
 as they saw the plough razing the vestiges of so 
 much historical glory. The event soon proved 
 the fatal tendency of the measure. The Low 
 Countries, bereft of their fortresses, destitute of 
 mountains, and too distant from the centre of the 
 empire to be etfectually defended, fell a prey to 
 the first attack; and the Austrian government 
 were first apprized of the ruinous tendency of 
 their measures by the loss of that ancient prov- 
 ince of their empire."* 
 
 The discontents and ingratitude of the Flem- 
 ings preyed so severely on the susceptible heart of 
 Joseph II., that they shortened his life. Upon his 
 death, which happened on the iGth of February, 
 17'JO, he was succeeded by his brother Leopold, 
 whose paternal and benevolent system of govern- 
 ment in Tuscany had long been the object of ad- 
 miration to all the philosophers of Europe j but 
 whose character, admirably adapted for the paci- 
 fic administration of that tranquil duchy, was 
 hardly calculated for the government of the great 
 and varied provinces of the Austrian empire. 
 He found the monarchy shaken in all its parts 
 by the reforms and innovations of his prede- 
 cessor; the Belgian provinces in a state ol open 
 insurrection ; Bohemia and Lower Austria in 
 sullen discontent; and Hungary in a state of 
 menacing insubordination. To complete his 
 difficulties, the seeds of a revolution were rapid- 
 ly expanding in Poland, while its distracted 
 liabits and feeble government aflRjrded little hope 
 that it would be permitted to extricate itself from 
 its embarrassments without foreign 'invasion ; 
 and it was easy to foresee that the spoliation of 
 its rich and defenceless plains would throw the 
 apple of discord among the ambitious military- 
 monarchies by which it was surrounded.t 
 
 The ill-humours of the Flemings soon broke 
 out into open insurrection. In the Revolt of the 
 autumn of 1789, at the very time that Flemings 
 the French were revolting against against Atis- 
 the privileged classes and the author- '"^- Sept., 
 ity of the Church, the inhabitants of ' ' 
 the Netherlands took up arms to support them. 
 France sought to impose liberal measures upon 
 its government; Flanders to resist those intro- 
 duced by its. sovereign ; Brussels, Ghent, and 
 Mons speedily fell into the hands of the insur- 
 gents, and the rapidity of the disaster accelerated 
 the death of the Emperor Joseph. But this suc- 
 cess was of short duration. Leopold, his suc- 
 cessor, took the most energetic measures to re- 
 establish his authority; the partisans of the aris- 
 tocracy in the revolted provinces came to blows 
 with the a.dherents of the democracy ; the French, 
 indignant at the rejection of their principles by 
 the aristocratic insurgents, refused their sup- 
 port ■,i ihe march of Marshal Bender, at the head 
 of the Imperialists, was a continual triumph; 
 and the Austrian forces resumed possession of 
 the whole of their Flemish dominions with a.s 
 much facility as they had lost them. 
 
 The house of Hapsburg was still in possession 
 of the imperial dignity ; but the high-sounding 
 titles and acknowledged supremacy of the Caesar.'i 
 could not conceal the real weakness of their au- 
 thority. The vast but unwieldy fabric of the 
 empire was governed by the diet assembled at 
 
 * Hard., i., 33, 34. Jom., i., 235, 236. 
 t Hard., i., 89, 90. Lac., viii., 157, 159. Scott's Napo- 
 leon, i, 12, 13. 
 
 * Jom., i., 159. t Hard., i., 79. 80. 
 
 t Hard., i., 88, 90. Lac, >iii., 164. Scott, i., 15, 20. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 165 
 
 Ratisbon, which consisted of three colleges; that 
 of the electors, that of the princes, and that of the 
 free towns. The first, which had been fixed by 
 the treaty of Westphalia at eight electors, to 
 which Hanover was allerward added, possessed 
 the sole right of electing the emperor; the sec- 
 ond, composed of thirty-three ecclesiastical and 
 sixty-one lay princes, enjoyed little influence, 
 and afforded only an inviting prospect to the 
 rapacity of their superiors ; the third, consisting 
 of forty-seven towns, was consulted only for 
 form's sake, and had no real deliberative voice in 
 public affairs. Each circle was bound to furnish 
 a certain contingent of troops for the defence of 
 the empire ; but their soldiers, disunited and vari- 
 ous, formed but a feeble protection, and the real 
 strength of the empire consisted in the Austrian 
 and Prussian monarchies.* 
 
 The military' strength of Prussia, raised to the 
 Military highest pitch of which its resources would 
 ntate of admit by the genius and successes of the 
 Prussia, great Frederic, had rendered this incon- 
 siderable kingdom' a first-rate power on the Conti- 
 nent of Europe. Its army, one hundred and 
 sixty thousand strong, comprising thirty-five 
 thousand horse, was in the highest state of dis- 
 cipline and equipment ; but this force, how con- 
 siderable soever, formed but a small part of the 
 strength of the kingdom. By an admirable sys- 
 tem of organization, the whole youth of the state 
 was compelled to serve a limited number of 
 years in the army in their early life, the effect of 
 which was, not only that a taste for military 
 habits was universally diffused, but that the state 
 always possessed within its bosom an inexhausti- 
 ble reserve of experienced veterans, who might, 
 in any emergency, be called to its defence. The 
 aversion evinced in so many other countries to 
 the militaiy service, from the unlimited length 
 to which it extended, was unknown where it 
 reached only to four 5'ears, and it came rather to 
 be regarded as an agreeable mode of spending 
 the active and enterprising period of youth. 
 Prussia reaped the full benefit of this judicious 
 .system when she withstood the three greatest 
 powers in Europe during the Seven Years' War; 
 and she was indebted to the same cause for those 
 inexhaustible and courageous defenders who 
 flocked to her standard during the latter part of 
 the revolutionary contest.t 
 
 At the death of the great Frederic, the Prus- 
 sian army was considered as the first in Europe. 
 Proud of a struggle without a parallel in mod- 
 em limes, and of the unrivalled talent of their 
 commander, the Prussian soldiers possessed not 
 only the moral strength so necessar}' in war, but 
 liad been trained, in a variety of exercises, to the 
 rapid movement of great masses. Annual evo- 
 lutions, on a large scale, accustomed the army 
 to that necessan,' piece of instruction ; and under 
 the scientific auspices of Seidlitz, the cavali3- 
 had become the most perfect in Europe. In 
 great schools at Berlin and other places, the 
 young officers were taught the military art ; and 
 "there, as elsewhere in the northern monarchies 
 of Europe, the whole youth of any consideration 
 were destined for the profession of arms. The 
 higher situations in the annv, however, were re- 
 .served for the nobles ; but, by degrees, that invid- 
 ious restriction was abandoned, and in the ardu- 
 ous struggle of 1813, Prussia had reason to feli- 
 citate herself upon the change.: 
 
 * Hard., i.. 8, 9. 
 t Jom., 228, 231. 
 
 1 Jom., i., 231, 232. Hard., i., 37 
 
 The states which composed the Prussian mon- 
 archy were by no means so coherent or rounded 
 as those which formed the Austrian dominions. 
 Nature had traced out no limits like the Rhine, 
 the Alps, or the Pyrenees, to form the boundary 
 of its dominions; no great rivers or mountain 
 chains protected its frontiers ; few fortified towns 
 guarded it from the incursions of the vast mili- 
 tary monarchies with which it was siirrounded. 
 Its surface consisted of fourteen thousand square 
 leagues, and its population, which had been 
 nearly doubled under the reign of Frederic the 
 Great, amounted to nearly eight million souls, 
 but they were composed of various races, spoke 
 different languages, and professed different reli- 
 gions, and were protected by no external or in- 
 ternal line of fortresses. Towards Russia and 
 Austrian Poland, a frontier of two hundred 
 leagues was totally destitute of places of de- 
 fence: Silesia alone enjoyed the double advan- 
 tage of three lines of fortresses, and the choicest 
 gifts of nature. The national defence rested en- 
 tirely on the army and the courage of the inhab- 
 itants ; but, animated by the recollection of the 
 Seven Years' War, they were both elevated to 
 the highest pitch.* 
 
 The government was a military despotism: 
 no privileges of individuals or corporations re- 
 strained the authority of the sovereign; the liber- 
 ty of the press was unknown ; but, nevertheless, 
 the public administration was tempered by the 
 wisdom and beneficence of its state policy. This 
 system, begun by Frederic the Great, had pas.s- 
 ed into settled maxims, which governed the ad- 
 ministration of his successors. In no country 
 of Europe, not even in England or Switzerland, 
 was private right more thoroughly respected, or 
 justice more rigidly observed, both in the courts 
 of law and the domestic measures of govern- 
 ment. " Everything for the people, nothing by 
 them," was the principle of its administration. 
 Toleration, established even to excess, had de- 
 generated into its fatal ally, indifference and in- 
 fidelit}', in many of the higher orders: manners, 
 imitating the seductions of Paris, were corrupt 
 in the capital ; while the middling ranks, united 
 in secret societies of freemasonry, already in- 
 dulged those ardent feelings which afterward ex- 
 ercised so important an influence on the desti- 
 nies of Europe.t 
 
 The might of Russia, first experienced by 
 Frederic at the terrible battle of Cun- „ 
 nersdorff, was now beginning to fill the "^^'*' 
 North with apprehension. This immense em- 
 pire, comprehending nearly half of Europe and 
 Asia within its dominions, backed by inaccessi- 
 ble frozen regions, secured from invasion by the 
 extent of its surface and the severity of its cli- 
 mate, inhabited by a patient and indomitable 
 race, ever ready to exchange the luxuries and 
 adventure of the south for the hardships and mo- 
 notony of the north, was daily becoming more 
 formidable to the liberties of Europe. The Em- 
 press Catharine, endowed with masculine ener- 
 gy and ambition, was urging a blood}' war with 
 Turkey, in which the zeal of a religious crusade 
 was directed by the sagacity of civilized warfare. 
 The campaign had commenced with the taking 
 of Oczakoff, which easily yielded to the audaci- 
 ty and fortune of Prince Potemkin ; but the 
 courage of the Turks, though long dormant, was 
 at length aroused to the highest pitch. Undisci- 
 plined and unstable in the field, they were al- 
 
 Hard., :., 37, 39. 
 
 t Hard., i.,40, 44. 
 
166 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 most invincible behind walls ; and the most in- 
 considerable forts, manned by such defenders, 
 became impregnable save at an enormous ex- 
 pense of blood and treasure. But a new and 
 terrible enemy to the Ottomans arose in Suwar- 
 Row, one of those extraordinary men, M'ho some- 
 times, by the force of their individual character, 
 alter the destiny of nations. This determined 
 and dauntless general, who possessed a religious 
 influence over the minds ol his soldiers, joined 
 the Austrians with eight thousand men, as they 
 were maintaining a doubtful contest with fifty 
 thousand troops on the banks of the river Rym- 
 niski, and infused such energ}- into the combined 
 army, that they gained a complete victorj' over 
 a superior body of Turks. He was afterward 
 emplo3'ed in the siege of Ismae!, and, chiefly bj- 
 his fanatical ascendency over the minds of his 
 soldiers, succeeded in carrying by assault that 
 celebrated fortress, though defended by twenty- 
 four thousand of the bravest troops in the Turk- 
 ish dominions. British diplomacy was emplo}'- 
 ed before it was too late to avert the threatened 
 calamities of the Ottoman Empire; new objects 
 of contention arose; fresh contests sprang out of 
 the Western Revolution, and the glory of placing 
 the cross on the dome of St. Sophia was reserv- 
 ed for a ftiture age.* 
 The Russian infantry had long been celebra- 
 ted for its immovable firmness. At 
 The Russian puitowa, Cunnersdortf, Choczim, 
 *" ' and Ismael, it had become distin- 
 
 guished ; and the cavalry, though greatly inferi- 
 or to its present state of discipline and equip- 
 ment, was inured to service in the war with the 
 Turks, and mounted on a hardy and acbnirable 
 race of horses. The artillery, now so splendid, 
 was then remarkable only for the cumbrous 
 quality of the carriages, and the obstinate valour 
 of the men. The armies were recruited b}' a 
 certain proportion of conscripts drawn out of 
 every one hundred male inhabitants ; a mode of 
 conscription which, in an immense and rapidly 
 increasing population, furnished an inexhausti- 
 ble supply of soldiers. They amounted, in 1792, 
 To two hundred thousand men, but the half of 
 this force alone was disposable for active opera- 
 tions, the remainder being cantoned on the Pruth, 
 the Caucasus, and the frontiers of Finland. In 
 this enumeration, however, was not comprised 
 either the youth of the military colonies, who af- 
 terward became of great importance, or the well- 
 
 known Cossacks of the Don. This ir- 
 sacks. °^' J"egular force, composed of the pastoral 
 
 tribes in the southern provinces of the 
 empire, costs almost nothing to the state ; the 
 government merely issues an order for a certain 
 number of this hardy band to take the field, and 
 crowds of active young men appear, equipped at 
 their own expense, mounted on small but inde- 
 fatigable horses, and ready to undergo all the 
 hardships of war, from their duty to their sover- 
 eign, and their hopes of plunder or adventure. 
 Gifted with all the individual intelligence which 
 belongs to the pastoral and savage character, 
 and yet subjected to a certain degree of military 
 discipline, they make the best of all light troops, 
 and are more formidable to a retreating ar- 
 my than the ditc of the French or Russian 
 guards.t 
 
 Inured to hardships from his infancy, the Rus- 
 sian soldier is better calculated to bear the fa- 
 
 * Lac, viii., 155,156. Ann. Reg 
 Russia, i., 128. S6gur, ii., 279. 
 
 , ixxiii., 201. Tooke's 
 t Jom., :., 254, 258. 
 
 tigues of war than any in Europe. He knows 
 no duty so sacred as obedience to his officers; 
 submissive to his di.scipline as to the ordinances 
 of religion, no fatigue, no privation, makes him 
 forget its obligations. Through eveiy march, 
 through entire campaigns, you behold the canl 
 nonier near his piece, at the post assigned to him 
 by his commander ; and, unless authorized to do 
 so, nothing will induce him to abandon it. The 
 wagon-train wax their harness in bivouacs, un- 
 der a cold of 15 deg. of Reaumur, as they would 
 do for a day of parade in the finest weather. 
 This admirable spirit of precision renders their 
 defeats extremely rare ; and the soldiers are so 
 accustomed, in their wars with the Turks, to 
 look for safety only in closing their ranks, and 
 to expect destniction if they fly, that they are 
 hardly ever broken. If they have not the facili- 
 ty at rallying after a defeat which their high de- 
 gree of individual intelligence has given to the 
 French soldiers, they have greater firmness in 
 resisting it.* 
 
 The whole energies of the nation are turned 
 towards the army. Commerce, the law, and aU 
 civil employments, are held in no esteem ; all the 
 youth of any consideration betake themselves 
 to the profession of arms. Immense military' 
 schools, in different parts of the empire, annually 
 send forth the whole flower of the population to 
 this dazzling career. Precedence depends entire- 
 ly on military- rank ; and the heirs to the greatest 
 families are compelled to enter the army in the 
 lowest grade. They face hard.ship and danger 
 with the same courage as the private .soldiers; 
 they were to be found by their sides in the breach 
 of Ismael and in the snows of Finland. Promo- 
 tion is open equally to all :+ a government de- 
 pending entirely oh its military prowess, finds 
 itself obliged to promote real merit; and the 
 greater part of the ofiicers at the head of the army 
 have risen from the inferior stations of society. 
 
 But, formidable as the power of Russia appear- 
 ed even at that period, the world was far from 
 anticipating the splendid part which it was des- 
 tined to bear in the approaching conflict. Her 
 immense population, amounting in Europe alone 
 to nearly thirtj'-five millions,: aflbrded an inex- 
 haustible supply of men. The ravages of war 
 or pestilence were speedily filled up in a country 
 who.se numbers were doubling every forty years. 
 Her soldiers, inured to heat and cold from their 
 infanc}', and actuated by a blind devotion to the 
 Czar, united the steady valour of the English 
 to the impetuous energj- of the French troops. 
 Dreaded by all her neighbours, and too remote 
 to fear attack, she could affbrd to send forth her 
 whole disposable force on foreign ser\"ice ; while 
 the want of pecuniar)' resources was of little im- 
 portance, as long as the wealth of England could 
 be relied on to furnish the sinews of war. Be- 
 fore the conclusion of hostilities. Franco saw one 
 hundred and fifty thousand Russian soldiers re- 
 viewed on the plains of Burgundy ; a force great- 
 er than that with which Attila combated on the 
 field of Chalons. 
 
 Poland, the destined theatre of glorious achieve- 
 ments, was, at the commencement of the 
 French Revolution, groaning under the " ^" ' 
 weight of foreign oppression. This heroic coun- 
 try, long the bulwark of Christendom against the 
 Turks, the deliverer of Germany, under John 
 Sobieski, the ancient conqueror of Russia, had 
 
 * Jom., i., 256. 
 
 t Tooke's Russia, ii,, 138. 
 
 t Jom., i., 25T. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 167 
 
 been the victim of an atrocious conspiracy in 
 1772. The flatness of its surface, the want of 
 fortified towns, and the weakness incident to au 
 elective monarchy and turbulent democracy, had 
 rendered all the valour of the people unavailing, 
 and the greater part of its dominions had been 
 reft by its ambitious neighbours at that disas- 
 ti-ous epoch. In 1792, the neighbouring sover- 
 eigns found a new pretence lor renewing their 
 spoliations. Stanislaus Augustus, the last nom- 
 inal sovereign, had granted a constitution to his 
 subjects better adapted than could have been 
 hoped fur to their peculiar situation. By it the 
 crown was declaimed elective, but the dynasty he- 
 reditary : the Princess of Saxony was proclaim- 
 ed heiress of the throne after the demi.se of the 
 king. Legislative measures and decrees were to 
 be proposed by the crown, and sanctioned by the 
 chambers of Lords and Commons. The nobles 
 abandoned their privilege of engrossing every 
 employment under government ; and, to provide 
 for the gradual elevation of the people, the king 
 was obliged, during the sitting of each diet, to 
 ennoble thirty of the bourgeois class. The Cath- 
 olic religion was declared the established faith. 
 This constitution was proclaimed amid the uni- 
 versal acclamations of the people ; and new life 
 thought to have been infused into the ancient 
 monarchy, from the intermixture of popular vig- 
 our. But these transports were of short duration. 
 Stanislaus Augustus, how enlightened soever in 
 framing a constitution, was ill qualified to defend 
 it. The jealousy of the Empress Catharine was 
 awakened by the prospect of Poland again emer- 
 ging into political vigour, and her fears by the 
 proximity of revolutionary principles to her he- 
 reditary states. A new treaty ol partition was 
 signed between the three adjoining powers,* and 
 the conquerors of Ismael called from the Tm"kish 
 war, to give the last blow to the ancient defenders 
 of the Christian faith. 
 
 Though deprived of the weight arising from 
 unity of empire, the native valour of the Poles 
 destined them to perform an important part on 
 the theatre of Europe. Napoleon has character- 
 ized them as the people who most rapidly become 
 soldiers ; and their ardent patriotism rendered 
 them the ready victims of any power which held 
 out the prospect of restoring their national inde- 
 pendence. The valour of the Polish legions 
 made them distinguished in the wars of Italy and 
 Spain : they followed the French standards to 
 Smolensko and Moscow, and maintained an un- 
 shaken fidelit}'- to them during all the disasters 
 of the subsequent retreat. Though cnielly aban- 
 doned by Napoleon in the commencement of the 
 Russian campaign, they adhered to his fortunes 
 through all the subsequent changes; and, amid 
 the general defection of Europe, kept their faith 
 inviolate on the field of Leipsic. 
 
 Sweden was too remote from the scene of Eu- 
 Q. ^A ropean conflict to have much weight in 
 the political scale. Secure in a distant 
 and almost inaccessible situation, blessed with a 
 hardy, virtuous, and enlightened peasantry, she 
 had nothing to dread but from the insatiable pro- 
 gress of Russian ambition. She had recently, 
 however, concluded a glorious war with her pow- 
 erful neighbour; her arms, in alliance with those 
 of Turkey, had taken the imperial forces by sur- 
 prise ; and Gustavus, extricating himself by a 
 desperate exertion of valour from a perilous sit- 
 
 * Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 205. Lac, viii., 168, 172. Burte, 
 Ti., 178. 
 
 uation, had destroyed the Russian fleet, and gain- 
 ed a great victory so near St. Petersburg, that 
 the sound of the cannon was heard in the palace 
 of the empress. But such is the weight of Rus- 
 sia, that her enemies are always glad to purchase 
 peace, even in the moment of their greatest suc- 
 cess. Catharine hastened to get quit of the Swe- 
 dish war, by oifering advantageous terms to her 
 courageous rival, and flattered his chivalrous 
 feelings into accepting them, by representing that 
 the en'orts of all sovereigns should now be di- 
 rected towards resisting the progress of the 
 French Revolution, and that he alone was wor- 
 thy to head the enterprise.* 
 
 Placed on the other extremity of the Russian 
 dominions, the forces of Turkey were 
 still less capable of affecting the bal- £,'^™fo°5 
 ance of the European states. Formi- 
 dable during the period of its vigour and rise, 
 the Ottoman power, like that of all barbarous na- 
 tions, had rapidly and irrecoverably declined af- 
 ter the zenith of its greatness had been attained. 
 It was defended chiefly by the desert and inac- 
 cessible nature of its territory, the consequence 
 of the incessant and grievous oppression of its 
 government, and the jealousies ol the European 
 powers, who never failed to interfere when the 
 danger became imminent to the existence of its 
 dominion. Its cavalry, brave, skilful, and admi- 
 rably mounted, was the most formidable in the 
 world ;t but the desultoiy temper of its people 
 was incapable of the submission and constancy 
 requisite to form an experienced and disciplined 
 body of infantiy. Sometimes, however, the spirit 
 of fanaticism roused them to extraordinary ex- 
 ertions, and on such occasions it was not imusual 
 to see a hundi-ed and fifty thousand armed men 
 on the banks of the Danube; but these efibrts 
 were of short duration, and the first serious re- 
 verse dissipated the mighty host, and reduced its 
 leaders to the command of a few regiments of 
 horse. But, though these causes rendered the 
 Ottomans incapable of foreign conquest, they 
 were still extremely formidable to an invading 
 army ; their desert and waterless plains afforded 
 no resources to an enemy, while the total want 
 of roads fit for the transport of wheeled carriages 
 made it almost impossible to bring supplies from 
 the adjoining states, or advance the artillery re- 
 quisite for the siege of their fortresses. Behind 
 the walls of the most inconsiderable towns, the 
 janizaries fought with desperate, and often suc- 
 cessful valour; the whole inhabitants took to 
 arms in defence of their lives and their religion; 
 and, lined with such defenders, trifling cities fre- 
 quently presented a more formidable resistance 
 than the most regular fortifications of Western 
 Europe. 
 
 The incessant and grinding oppression, how- 
 ever, of the Ottoman government, had implanted 
 a principle of Aveakness in the Turkish power, 
 little attended to in former times, but of which 
 the effects have since been strikingly displayed. 
 This consisted in the constant and rapid decay 
 of the population, which soon rendered her une- 
 qual even to those sudden and vehement exer- 
 tions, which at fonner periods had struck such 
 terror into the neighbouring states.! At the same 
 time, the ignorant and brutal pride of the govern- 
 ment, which prevented them from acquiring any 
 knowledge of the situation of the European pow- 
 ers, rendered them incapable of availing them- 
 
 * Lac, viii., 167. t Nap., i., 375. 
 
 t Walsh's Constantinople, i., 193, 194. Buckingham's 
 Mesopotamia, i., 212. 
 
168 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 selves of the advantages which their desperate 
 struggles frequently atibrded, and on more than 
 one occasion made them throw away the only 
 remaining chance of recovering their lost ground 
 from the unceasing hostility of Russia. 
 
 From a different cause, the political impor- 
 j , tance of Italy had sunk as low as that of 
 ^' the Turkish" states. Inhabiting the finest 
 country in Europe, blessed with the richest plains 
 and the most fruitful mountains, defended from 
 invasion by the encircling sea and the frozen 
 Alps, venerable from the recollections of ancient 
 greatness, and containing the cradle of modern 
 Ireedom, the people of Italy were yet as dust in 
 the scale of nations. The loss of military cour- 
 age and of private virtue seems to have been the 
 cause of this sad degradation. When conducted 
 by foreign leaders, the inhabitants of its nortliem 
 states, like the Portuguese and the Hindoos un- 
 der British direction, have risen to honourable 
 distinction beneath the standard of Napoleon ; 
 but, led by their own officers, and following their 
 national colours, they have never been able to 
 stand the shock of the Transalpine forces. Tus- 
 cany, from the effects of the sage and paternal 
 government of Leopold, was flourishing, pros- 
 perous, and contented; but the proximity of 
 France had spread the seeds of discontent in 
 Piedmont, and, in common with its inhabitants, 
 the Milanese beheld with undisguised satisfac- 
 tion the triumph of the republican arms on the 
 other side of the Alps. It was in vain, however, 
 that a smothered feeling of indignation at foreign 
 rule pervaded the Italian states ; in vain all their 
 theatres rung with acclamations at the line of 
 Alfieri : 
 
 " Servi siam si ! ma servi ogiior frementi." 
 
 They were incapable of those steady and sus- 
 tained efforts which are essential to the establish- 
 ment either of civil liberty or national independ- 
 ence ; hence, during all the contests of which it 
 was the theatre, Italy became the unresisting 
 prey of the northern victor. The Austrian and 
 French eagles alternately ruled her plains, but 
 the national colours were never unfurled, nor any 
 effort made to liberate them Irom foreign domin- 
 ion ; and on the few occasions on which the Ne- 
 apolitans and Venetians attempted to raise the 
 standard of independence, they were vanquished 
 by the mere sight of the enemy's force. It is 
 melancholy to reflect that the descendants of the 
 Roman.s, the Samnites, and the Cisalpine Gauls, 
 should so far, and to appearance so irrecovera- 
 bly, have degenerated from the virtue of their 
 ancestors ; but it seems to be the law of nature, 
 that a high state of civilization cannot long co- 
 exist with military courage in the favoured cli- 
 mates of the world; and that, as some counter- 
 poise to the lavish accumulation of her gifts. 
 Nature has denied to their inhabitants the perma- 
 nent resolution to defend them.* 
 
 The kingdom of Piedmont, situated on the 
 p. , frontiers of Italy, partook more of the 
 
 character of its northern than its soutli- 
 em neighbours. Its soldiers, chiefly drawn from 
 the mountains of Savoy, Liguria, or the mari- 
 time Alps, were brave, docile, and enterprising, 
 and, under Victor Amadeus, had risen to the 
 highest distinction in the commencement of the 
 eighteenth century. The regular anny amount- 
 ed to thirty thousand infantry and three thousand 
 five hundred cavalry ; but, besides this, the gov- 
 
 * Bot., i., at. Lac.viii., 147. 
 
 emraent could summon to their support fifteen 
 thousand militia, who, in delending their mount- 
 ain passes, rivalled the best troops in Europe. 
 They were chiefly employed during the war in 
 guarding the fortresses, and the number of these, 
 joined to the natural strength of the country, and 
 its important situation, as holding the keys ol 
 the great passes over the Alps, gave this state a 
 degree of militarj' importance beyond what could 
 have been anticipated from its physical strength.* 
 
 Sunk in obscure marshes, cru.shed by the nav^al 
 supremacy of England, and cooped up . 
 in a corner of Europe, the political im- 
 portance of the Dutch Republic had fallen in a 
 great degree in the scale of Europe. Its army 
 was still composed of forty-four thousand men, 
 and its fortified towns and inundations gave it 
 the same means of defence which had formerly 
 been so gloriously exerted ; but the resolution 
 of the inhabitants was by no means at that time 
 equal to the strength of their situation. A long 
 tract of peace had weakened the military spirit 
 of the people, and their chief defence was placed 
 in the wretched assistance of auxiliary troops, 
 which never enabled the Republic, duiing tne 
 subsequent contests, to bring thirty thousand men 
 into the field. The world at this period was far 
 from anticipating the glorious stand which the 
 Dutch subsequently made against the hostility 
 by land and sea of the two greatest powers in 
 Europe. t 
 
 Animated by .stronger passions, descended 
 from more fiery progenitors, and inured to g - 
 a more varied climate, the people of the ^^'"" 
 Spanish Peninsula were calculated to perform 
 a more distinguished part in the strife for Euro- 
 pean freedom. This singular and mixed race, 
 united to the tenacity of purpose which distin- 
 guished the Gothic, the fiery enterprise which 
 characterized the Moorish blood; centuries of 
 almost unbroken repose had neither extinguished 
 the one nor abated the other; and the Conqueror 
 of Europe erroneou.sly judged the temper of her 
 people when he measured it by the inglorious 
 reigns of the Bourbon dynasty. The nobles, de- 
 generated by long-continued intermarriage w^ith 
 each other, were indeed incapable of strenuous 
 exertion, and the reigning family had none of 
 the qualities calculated to command success ; 
 but the peasantry, bold, prosperous, and inde- 
 pendent, presented the materials for a resolute 
 army ; and the priesthood, posses.sed of an im- 
 limited sway over the minds of the lower orders, 
 were animated by the most inextinguishable ha- 
 tred at the principles of the French Revolution. 
 The decay of its national strength, falsely ascri- 
 bed by superficial writers to the drain of colonial 
 enterprise and the possession of the mines of 
 America, was really owing to the accumulation 
 of estates in the hands of communities and noble 
 families, and the predominant influence of the 
 Catholic priesthood, Avhich for centuries had ren- 
 dered that fine kingdom little else than a cluster 
 of convents surrounded by a hardy peasantry. 
 But, though these causes had rendered Spain in- 
 capable of any sustained foreign enterpri.se, they 
 had not in the least diminished its aptitude for 
 internal defence; and the people, who in every 
 age have there made common cause with t)ie 
 king and the nobles, flew to arms with unequal- 
 led enthusiasm when their loyalty was awaken- 
 ed by the captivity of their sovereign, and their 
 fanaticism roused by the efforts of their pastoi-s. 
 
 * Jom., i., 244. 
 
 i Jom., i., 246. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 169 
 
 By a just retribution, the first great reverse of 
 the French arms was occasioned by the spirit of 
 religious resistance nourished by their first fla- 
 grant acts of injustice; and the disaster of Bay- 
 len would not have arisen, nor the bones of five 
 hundred thousand French whitened the plains of 
 Spain, but for the confiscation of the property 
 ot the French Church by the Constituent As- 
 sembly.* 
 
 The nominal military strength of Spain, at the 
 commencement of the Revolution, was one hun- 
 dred and forty thousand men ; but this force was 
 far from being effective, and in the first cam- 
 paigns they were never able to raise their force 
 in the field "to eighty thousand combatants, though 
 they re-enforced their array by thirty-six battal- 
 ions on the breaking out of the war. But on oc- 
 casion of the invasion in 1808, an immense in- 
 surrectionary force sprung up in every part of 
 the countr}^ The.se undisciplined levies, how- 
 ever, though occasionally brave, like the Turks, 
 in defending walls, were miserably deficient in 
 the essential qualities of regular soldiers ; they 
 had neither the steadiness, mutual confidence, 
 nor conduct necessary for success in the field. 
 Accordingly, they were almost invariably routed 
 in every encounter ; and, but for the tenacity of 
 purpose ai'ising from their character, ignorance, 
 and habit of boasting, which effectually conceal- 
 ed the extent of their disasters from all but the 
 sufferers under them, and the continued presence 
 of a large English force in the field, the war 
 would have been terminated soon after its com- 
 Tnencement, with very little trouble to the French 
 omperor.t 
 
 The Spanish soldiers have never exhibited in 
 the wars of the Revolution that firmness in the 
 field which formerly distinguished their infantry 
 at Pavia, Rocroi, and in the Low Countries. 
 They have been di.stinguished rather by the tu- 
 multuary habits and tendency to abandon their 
 colours on the first reverse, which belongs to the 
 troops of tropical climates, and characterized 
 their forefathers in the Roman wars. It would 
 seem as if the long residence of their ancestors 
 in a warm climate had melted away the indomi- 
 table valour of the Gothic race in their original 
 frozen seats. Military glory was held in little 
 esteem; hardly four of the grandees were to be 
 found, in 1792, in the army or naval .service. 
 But the peasantry have evinced throughout the 
 war the mo.st obstinate and enduring spirit: 
 though routed on numberless occasions, they 
 almost always rallied, as in the days of Sertorius, 
 in more favourable circumstances ; | and though 
 deserted by nearly all the nobility, maintained a 
 prolonged contest with the conqueror of north- 
 ern Europe. 
 
 Cradled in snowy moimtains, tilling a steril 
 e .. , , soil, and habituated to severe habits, 
 the Swiss peasantiy exhibited the 
 same features which have always rendered them 
 so celebrated in European wars. Their lives 
 were as simple, their courage as undaunted, their 
 patriotism as warm, as those of their ancestors 
 who died on the field of Morat or Morgarten. 
 Formidable in defence, however, their numerical 
 strength, which did not exceed thirty-eight thou- 
 sand regular soldiers,§ rendered them of little 
 avail in the great contests which rolled round the 
 feet of their mountains. Occasions, indeed, were 
 not wanting, when they displayed the ancient 
 
 virtue of their race : their conflicts in Berne and 
 Underwalden, at the time of the French invasion, 
 equalled the far-famed celebrity of their wars of 
 independence ; and, amid the disgraceful defec- 
 tion of the 10th of August, the Swiss Guards 
 alone remained faithful to the fortunes of Louis, 
 and merited, by their death, the touching inscrip- 
 tion on the graves at Thermopylse : 
 
 " Go, stranger ! and at Lacediemon tell, 
 That here, obedient to her laws, we fell." 
 
 The forces of France, destined to contend with 
 and long triumph over this immense ag- 
 gregate of military strength, were far p°ance.° 
 i\om being considerable at the com- 
 mencement of the struggle. The infantry con- 
 sisted of one hundred and sixty thousand men, 
 the cavalry of thirty-five thousand, the artillery 
 of ten thousand ; but a great proportion of these 
 forces had left their colours during the agitated 
 state of the country prior to the breaking out of 
 the war. During the stormy period of the Rev- 
 olution, the discipline of the troops had sensibly 
 declined,* and the custom of judging for them- 
 .selves on political questions had introduced a 
 degree of license inconsistent with the habits of 
 military discipline; but all these defects were 
 more than counterbalanced by the number of 
 able men who speedily entered the ranks from the 
 Tiers Etat, and by their vigour and audacity 
 first supplied the "want of military experience, 
 and soon afler induced it. 
 
 The cavalry, consisting of fifty-nine regiments, 
 brave, enthusiastic, and impetuous, were at first 
 deficient in steadiness and organization ; but 
 these defects were speedily supplied under the 
 pressure of necessity, and by the talent which 
 emerged from the lower classes of society. The 
 artillery and engineers, which were not exclu- 
 sively confined, under the old rigime, to men of 
 family, from the first were superior in intelli- 
 gence and capacity to any in Europe, and con- 
 tributed more than any other arm to the early 
 successes of the Republican forces. The staff 
 M^as miserably deficient ; but the materials of the 
 finest itat^Tiiajffr existed in France, and the as- 
 cendant of genius, in a career open to all, soon 
 brought an imparalleled accession of talent to 
 that important department. But the chief strength 
 of the army consisted in two hundred battalions 
 of volunteers, raised by a decree of the Constit- 
 uent Assembly; and who, although not fully 
 completed, and imperfectly instructed in military 
 exercises, were animated with the highest spirit, 
 and in the greatest state both of mental and phys- 
 ical activity. In both these respects th^y were 
 greatly superior to the old regiments, which were 
 not only paralyzed by the divisions and insub- 
 ordination consequent on the Revolution, but 
 weakened by the habits of idleness and vice 
 which they had contracted during a long resi- 
 dence in barracks.t 
 
 It is a mistake, however, to imagine that the 
 military force of France at this period was in- 
 considerable, or that the independence of France 
 was preserved, on the invasion in 1792, merely 
 bv the revolutionary levies. Napoleon's au- 
 thority is decisive to the contrary. " It was nei- 
 ther," says he, " the volunteers nor the recniits 
 who saved the Republic : it was the one hun- 
 dred and eighty thousand old troops of the mon- 
 archy and "the discharged veterans whom the 
 Revolution impelled to the frontiers. Part of 
 
 * Foy, ii., 143, 144, 151, 160, 170. Jomell., 171. Napier, 
 i., 4, 5, t Napier, i., 237. et seq. Jom., i., 240. 
 
 t Jom., i., 242, 243. « Statisque de la Suisse, 102. 
 
 Vol. I.— Y 
 
 * Jom.. i., 224. Caniot's Memoirs, 13G. St. Cyr, In- 
 trod., i., 36. 
 t Jom., i., 226. St. Cyr, i., 38. Hard.i. 
 
170 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 the recruits deserted, part died, a small portion 
 only remained, who in process of time formed 
 good soldiers. You will not soon find one going 
 10 war with an army of recruits."* 
 
 Such was the state of the principal European 
 State of soci- powers at the commencement of the 
 ety over Eu- French Revolution. A spirit of gen- 
 rope at this tleness pervaded the political world, 
 epoch. {jjg efje^t of increasing knowledge 
 
 and long-continued prosperity. Even the most 
 despotic empires were ruled with a lenity un- 
 known in former times, and the state-prisons of 
 all the European monarchies would probably 
 have exhibited as few inmates as the Bastile 
 when it was stormed in 1789. Ever since the 
 termination of the general war in 1763, a grow- 
 ing spirit of improvement had pervaded the Eu- 
 ropean states, and repeatedly called forth the 
 praises of the contemporary annalists. Agricul- 
 ture had risen into universal esteem ; kings were 
 setting the example of cultivating the soil ; and 
 a large portion of the nobility were everywhere 
 lending their aid to improve tJiat first and best of 
 human pursuits. Leopold in Tuscany and Flan- 
 ders, and Louis in France, were ardently enga- 
 ged in the amelioration of their dominions ; even 
 in the regions of the north, the spirit of improve- 
 ment was steadily advancing. The able exer- 
 tions of Frederic had nearly doubled in a single 
 reign the resources of his dominions ; and in Po- 
 land and Russia, the example of a gradual en- 
 franchisement of the serfs had been set with the 
 happiest success. The haughtiness and pride 
 of aristocratic birth was gradually yielding to 
 the influence of extending wants and an enlarged 
 commerce, and in many of the European states 
 the highest offices under government were held 
 by persons of plebeian birth. Neckar, Vergen- 
 nes, and Sartines, who successively held the 
 most important situations in France, were of this 
 class. The Inquisition had been voluntarily 
 abandoned in Parma, Placentia, Milan, and Mo- 
 dena, and toleration over all Europe had spread 
 to a degree unkuo\vn in former times. All the 
 remaining vestiges of that fierce spirit, which 
 sullied with barbarism the lofty and romantic 
 courtesy of ancient manners, were gradually 
 softening away ; and the flames of that religious 
 zeal, which for two centuries had so often kin- 
 dled the torch of civil discord, were sunk into ash- 
 es. Every succeeding generation was of a char- 
 acter milder and gentler than the last. There 
 was a diffusion of liberality that was beginning to 
 pervade the mass of mankind. The diversified 
 classes ftf society harmonized with each other in a 
 way hitherto unknown ; and whatever might be 
 the peculiarities of particular constitutions, a 
 sweeter blood seemed in all to circulate through 
 every member of the political body. The lowest 
 of the people, under governments the most despot- 
 ic, no longer held their countenances prone to the 
 earth, but were taught to erect them with a becom- 
 ing sense of their own nature ; and the brow of au- 
 thority, instead of an austere frowni, wore a more 
 inviting air of complacency and amenity. t 
 
 But, Avhile such was the general character of 
 Difference Europe, there was an essential dis- 
 between the tinction between the national tenden- 
 South and cy of its northern and southern states, 
 the North, -^^^j^ich soon produced the most im- 
 portant effects on their respective fortunes: 
 the spirit of the South was essentially pacific, 
 
 * Thib. Cons., 109. 
 
 t Lac, Tiii., 140. Bot., i., 13, 19. Ann. Reg., xsiiii., 
 20T, 211 ; iiiv., 12, 13 ; xxvii., 3, 4 ; xiviii., 169. 
 
 that of the North ambitious ; the repose of the 
 former bordered on inertness, the energy of the 
 latter on turbulence. The amelioration of the 
 first was slow and almost imperceptible, flowing 
 chiefly from the benignity of the sovereigns ; the 
 improvements of the latter rapid and violent, ta- 
 king their origin in the increasing importance 
 of the people. Pleasure was the leading object 
 in the South, glory, militaiy glory, in the North. 
 The difference was perceptible even during the 
 progress of pacific changes ; but when the war 
 broke out, its effects became of the last impor- 
 tance, and speedily led to the subjugation of the 
 southern by the northern states of Europe.* 
 
 The greatest blessings border upon misfor- 
 tunes ; out of the bosom of calamity oflen .springs 
 the cliief improvement of the human race. To 
 the e}'e of philosophy it was not difficult to dis- 
 cern, that the growing passion for innovation, to 
 which all reform is more or less related, was 
 pregnant with political danger; and that the 
 disposition to impi'ove, emanating from the pu- 
 rest intention in the higher ranks, was likely to 
 agitate the spirit of Democracy in the lower. 
 Such a peril, accordingly, was foreseen and ex- 
 pressed by the contemporary historians ;t but 
 they did not foresee, nor could human imagina- 
 tion have anticipated, either the temble effects 
 of that spirit upon the passing generation, or the 
 beneficial effects whicn the storm of the world 
 was destined to have upon the future condition 
 of mankind. 
 
 The state of France at the period when hos- 
 tilities first commenced cannot he g^^^^ ^^ 
 better described than in the words of France when 
 the eloquent and philanthropic Abbe hostilities 
 Raynal, in a letter to the National commenced. 
 Assembly : " Placed on the verge of the grave, 
 on the point of quitting an immense family, of 
 which I have never ceased to wish the happi- 
 ness, what do I behold around me in this capi- 
 tal 1 Religious troubles, civil dissension, the 
 consternation of some, the audacity of others, a 
 government the slave of popular t}'ranny, the 
 sanctuary of the laws violated by lawless men ; 
 soldiers without discipline, chiefs without au- 
 thority, ministers without resources ; a king, 
 the first and best friend of his people, deprived 
 of all power, outraged, menaced, a prisoner in 
 his own palace, and the sovereign power trans- 
 ferred to popular clubs, where ignorant and bru- 
 tal men take upon themselves to decide ever}' 
 political question. Such is the real state of 
 France ; few but myself would have the courage 
 to declare it, but I do so because I feel it to be 
 my duty ; because I am bordering on my eighti- 
 eth year ; because no one can accuse me of be- 
 ing a partisan of the ancient n'gimc ; because, 
 while I groan over the desolation of the French 
 Church, no one can assert that I am a fanatical 
 priest ; because, while I regard as the sole means 
 of salvation the re-establishment of the legiti- 
 mate autliority, no one can suppose that I am 
 insensible to the blessings of real freedom.": 
 When such was the language of the first sup- 
 porters of the Revolution, it is noways surprising 
 that the European powers beheld with dismay 
 the progress ol principles fraught with such ca- 
 lamitous consequences, according to the admis- 
 sion of their own partisans, in the countries 
 where they had commenced. 
 
 The language of the French government to- 
 
 * Lac., viii., 141. t Ann. Reg., xixviii., 29, 30. 
 
 t Lac, vui., 355, 356. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 171 
 
 Menacing lau- ^ai'ds the people of all other states 
 guage of the was such as to excite the most sen- 
 French tooth- ous apprehension of the friends of or- 
 er states. jgj. jq every civilized country. Not 
 only the orators in the clubs, but the members of 
 the assembly, openly proclaimed the doctrine of 
 fraternization with "the revolutionary party all 
 over the world. The annexation of the states of 
 Avignon and the Venaisin was early marked by 
 Mr. Burke as the indication of an ambitious 
 spirit, which, ere long, the limits of Europe 
 would not contain. 
 
 The annexation of this little state to the 
 French Republic was the more re- 
 Sept. 17,1791. niarkable that it was the first de- 
 cided aggression on the part of its rulers upon 
 the adjoining nations, and that it was committed 
 on an independent sovereign, with whom not 
 even the pretence of a quarrel existed, and who 
 was not alleged to have entered into any hostile 
 alliance against that power. This 
 Oct. 4, 1791. ^^j^g followed up in the same year by 
 the seizure of Porentrui, part of the dominions 
 of the Bishop of Bale.* 
 
 The French Revolution surprised the Euro- 
 pean powers in their usual state of smothered 
 jealousy or open hostility with each other. 
 Catharine of Russia was occupied with her am- 
 bitious projects in the southeast of Europe ; and 
 her ascendency at the courts of Berlin and Vi- 
 enna was so great, that no serious opposition 
 was to be apprehended from their hostility. 
 France had shortly before signed a 
 Sept..8,l/86. commercial treaty with Great Brit- 
 ain, which was considered as indicating the as- 
 cendency of her great naval rival, and seriously 
 impaired her influence on the Continent of Eu- 
 rope; while Frederic the Great had recently 
 J 22 l~85 b^^*^"'^ hi* death concluded the Con- 
 ' ' ■ vention of Berlin for the protection 
 of Bavaria and the lesser powers from the am- 
 bition of the house of Austria. But the death 
 
 1 ,^ iPTQc of that great monarch, which took 
 Aug. 17, 1786. , . ^ . . -, ^ac 
 
 ^ place m August, 1 y86, was an irre- 
 
 parable loss to the diplomacy of Europe at the 
 very time when, from the commencement of new 
 and unheard-of dangers, his sagacity was most 
 required. 
 
 His successor, Frederic William, though dis- 
 tinguished for personal valour, and not desti- 
 tute of penetration and good sense, was too in- 
 dolent and voluptuous to be qualified to follow 
 out the active thread of negotiation which his 
 predecessor had held. Hertzberg became, after 
 the death of the late monarch, the soul of the 
 Prussian cabinet ; and his whole object was to 
 provide a counterpoise to the enormous prepon- 
 derance of the two imperial courts, which had 
 recently become still more formidable from the 
 intimate union which prevailed between Catha- 
 rine and Joseph II., cemented by their common 
 ambitious designs on Turkey, and which had 
 been ostentatiously proclaimed to Europe during 
 a voyage which the two potentates made togeth- 
 er on the Volga to the Crimea and shores of tlie 
 Black Sea. A treaty with France promised no 
 satisfactoiy result in the distracted state to which 
 that kingdom was now reduced. In these cir- 
 cumstances, an alliance of Great Britain, Prus- 
 June 13 1788 ^'^^' ^^^^ Holland appeared the only 
 ' ' means of providing for the balance 
 of power in Europe, and, imder the influence of 
 
 * Pari. Hist., xxxiv., 1316. Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 199, 206 ; 
 xixiv., 39. 
 
 Mr. Pitt, a convention was concluded at Loo 
 between these three powers, which again estab- 
 lished the preponderance of England on the Con- 
 tinent, and long preserved the balance of Euro- 
 pean power.* Thus, at the very time that the 
 most appalling dangers were about to arise to 
 the liberties of Europe from the revolutionary 
 ambition of France on its western side, the 
 views of its statesmen were turned to another 
 quarter, and solely directed to prevent the ag- 
 grandizement of the military monarchies, mIiu 
 seemed on the point of swallowing up its East- 
 em dynasties.t 
 
 Passionately desirous of military renown, Jo- 
 seph II. addressed, early in 1788, a confidential 
 letter to Frederic William, in which he openly 
 avowed his designs on Turkey, and justified 
 them by the practice of the Turks themselves, 
 and all the European powers in similar circum- 
 stances.j Though flattered by this mark of 
 confidence, the Prussian cabinet were not blind- 
 ed to the danger which menaced Europe from 
 the approaching dismemberment of Turkey, so 
 rapidly following the second partition of Poland. 
 Meanwhile the progress of the Muscovite and 
 imperial arms was daily more alarming; the 
 throne of Constantinople seemed shaken to its 
 foundation. Oczakow had fallen, and with it 
 (the bravest defenders of the Turkish power; the 
 ' Prince of Saxe Cobourg and Suwarrow success- 
 ively defeated vast bodies of Osmanlis at Foch- 
 zani and Marfinesti; while Belgrade, the bul- 
 wark of Transylvania, yielded to the scientific 
 measures of Marshal Laudohn : the Russians, 
 on the shores of the Black Sea, had completely 
 routed Hassan Pacha at Tobak, and, after a 
 long siege, made themselves masters of Ben- 
 der, while the Imperialists, no less successful, 
 reduced Bucharest, and spread themselves over 
 all the northern shores of the Danube. Orsova 
 had fallen ; and the united imperial armies, two 
 hundred and fifty thousand strong, extending 
 over a line of four hundred miles in length, al- 
 ready, in the spring of 1790, menaced Gergevo 
 and Widdin, and threatened instantaneous de- 
 struction to the Ottoman Empire.§ 
 
 Seriously alarmed at the dangers which evi- 
 dently menaced Europe from the fall of the 
 Turkish Empire, Mr. Pitt was indefatigable in 
 his exertions, before it \vas too late, to arrest the 
 march of the imperial courts. By his means 
 the bands were drawn closer between Prussia 
 and Great Britain, and Frederic William, fully 
 alive to the dangers which threatened his do- 
 minions from the aggrandizement of Austria, 
 advanced, at the head of one hundred thousand 
 men, to the frontiers of Bohemia. Unable to 
 
 * Marten's Trait., v., 172. t Hard., i., 62, 63. 
 
 t " The swoni is drawn," said he, " and it shall not be 
 restored to the scabl)ard till I have regained all that hiw 
 been wrested by the Osmanlis from my house. My enter- 
 prise against Turkey has no other object but to regain the 
 possessions which time and misfortunes have detached from 
 my crown. The Turks consider it as an invariable maxim 
 to seize the first convenient opportunity of regaining the 
 possessions which they have lost. The house of Branden- 
 burg has risen to its present pitch of Etlory by adopting the 
 same principles. Your uncle wrested Silesia from my moth- 
 er at a moment when, surrounded by enemies, she had no 
 other support but her native grandeur of mind and the love 
 of her people. During a century of losses, Austria has 
 made no proportional acipiisition ; for the larger portion of 
 Poland, on the last partition, fell to Prussia. I hope these 
 reasons will appear sutBcient forme to decline the interven- 
 tion of your majesty ; and tliat you will not resist my en- 
 deavours to Germanize some hundreds of thousands of Ori- 
 entals." — Hard., i., 65, 66. 
 
 ^ Ann. Reg., xxxi., 182, 200 ; and xxxiii., 1, 18. Hard., 
 i., 68, 84. 
 
172 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 undertake a war at the .same time on the Elbe 
 and the Danube, and uneasy both on account 
 of the menacing aspect of France and the insur- 
 rection in Flanders, Austria paused in the ca- 
 reer of conquest. Conferences were opened at 
 Reichenbach, midway between the headquar- 
 ters of the Prussian and imperial armies ; and, 
 ^ ^ ^ , , after some delay, preliminaries were 
 27th of July, g.gj^g^^ ^j^i^j^ concluded the differ- 
 ences between the cabinets of Vien- 
 na and Berlin, and opened the way to the ac- 
 commodation of the former with the Porte. The 
 Prussian army immediately retired : thirty thou- 
 sand Austrians, under Marshal Bender, moved 
 towards the Low Countries, and speedily reduced 
 its discontented provinces to submission; while 
 a truce was shortly after concluded for nine 
 months between the Turks and Imperialists, 
 which was followed by conferences at Sistow,* 
 and at length a definitive treaty was signed at that 
 place on the 4th of August, 1791 ; wliile the 
 Empress Catharine, who was not yet formally 
 .„ ._„„ included in the pacification, formal- 
 "^" ' ' ■ ly intimated her intention of sus- 
 pending hostilities to the courts of St. James's 
 and Berlin, and, as a gage of her sincerity, con- 
 cluded at Verela a peace with the King of Swe- 
 den, who, at the instigation of England and 
 Prussia, had taken up arms, and contended with 
 undaunted valour against his gigantic neigh- 
 bour.t 
 
 This general and rapid pacification of Europe, 
 this stilling of so many passions, and allaying 
 of so many jealousies, was not the result of ac- 
 cident. It arose from the general consternation 
 which the rapid progress of the French Revolu- 
 tion occasioned, and the clear perception which 
 all the cabinets now began to have of the immi- 
 nent danger to every settled institution from the 
 contagion of its principles. But. amidst the gen- 
 eral alarm, wiser principles were generally preva- 
 lent than could reasonably have been anticipated, 
 as to the means of warding off the danger. Mr. 
 Pitt in England, Kaunitz at Vienna, and Hertz- 
 berg at Berlin, concurred in opinion that it 
 would be imprudent and dangerous to oppose 
 the progress of innovation in France, if it could 
 be moderated by a party in that countiy suf- 
 ficiently strong to prevent it from running into 
 excess ; and that, in the mean time, the strictest 
 measures should be adopted which circumstan- 
 ces would admit, to prevent its principles from 
 .spreading into other states. Such were the max- 
 ims on which the conduct of England, Austria, 
 and Prussia were founded during the first two 
 years of tlie Revolution ; though Catharine, more 
 vehement and imperious in her disposition, or 
 probably more sagacious in her anticipations, 
 never ceased to urge the necessity of a general 
 confederacy to arrest the march of so formidable 
 a convulsion. But circumstances at length oc- 
 curred which put a period to these moderate 
 councils at Vienna and Berlin, and precipitated 
 the European monarchies into the terrible con- 
 test which awaited them.t 
 
 From the time that Louis had been brought a 
 prisoner to Paris on October 5, 1789, he had rec- 
 oiiuKiended to the King of Spain to pay no re- 
 gard to any public act bearing his name which 
 was not confirmed by an autograph letter from 
 himself; and in the course of the following sum- 
 mer he authorized the Baron Breteuil, his former 
 
 * Hard., i., 83, 86. Ann. Reg., iixiii., 17, 19. 
 
 •t Hard., i.,86, 87. t Hard., i., 85, 90. 
 
 minister, to soimd the German powers on the 
 possibility of extricating him from the state of 
 bondage to which he was reduced. In Novem- 
 ber, 1790, after he found that he was to be forced 
 to adopt measures of hostility against the Church, 
 he resolved to be more explicit; and, in Decem- 
 ber, 1790, he addressed a circular to the whole 
 sovereigns of Europe, with a view to the forma- 
 tion of a congress, supported by an armed force, 
 to consider the means of arresting the factions at 
 Paris, and re-establishing a constitutional mon- 
 archy in France.* This circular excited every- 
 where the wannest feelings of sympathy and 
 commiseration ; but the policy of the cabinets, 
 notwithstanding, continued divided : that of Vi- 
 enna still adhered to the necessity of recognising 
 the revolutionary regime, those of St. Petersburg 
 and Stockholm openly proclaimed the necessity 
 of an immediate crusade against the infected 
 powers.t 
 
 So early as the close of 1790, however, the vi- 
 olent proceedings of the National Assembly had 
 brought them into collision with the states of 
 the Empire. The laws against the emigrants 
 and priests, which were passed with so much 
 precipitance by that body, infringed the rights 
 of the German vassals of the French crown in 
 Alsace and Lorraine, whose rights were guaran- 
 tied by the treaty of Westphalia ; and the em- 
 peror, as the head of the Empire, addressed a re- 
 monstrance to the French king on the p^p ,. ..g(j 
 subject. Overruled by his revolu- • > ' • 
 tionary ministry, Louis made answer, that the 
 affair was foreign to the empire, as the princes 
 and prelates affected were reached as vassals of 
 France, not as members of the empire, and that 
 indemnities had not been offered. This answer 
 was not deemed satisfactory ; a warm altercation 
 ensued : Leopold asserted in a spirited manner 
 the rights of^the German princes ; and this dis- 
 pute, joined to the obvious and increasing dan- 
 gers of his sister, Marie Antoinette, gradually 
 inclined the emperor to more vigorous meas- 
 ures, and strengthened the bonds of imion with 
 Frederic William, whose chivalrous spirit and 
 heroic courage more openly inclined towards 
 the deliverance of the unhappy princess. The 
 King of England, also, took a vivid interest in the 
 misfortunes of the royal family of France; prom- 
 ising, as Elector of Hanover, to concur in any 
 measures which might be deemed necessary to 
 extricate them from their embarrassments ; and 
 he sent Lord Elgin to Leopold, who was then 
 travelling in Italy, to concert measures for the 
 common object. An envoy from Prussia, at the 
 same time, reached the emperor, and to them 
 was soon joined the Count d'Artois, who was at 
 Venice, and brought to the scene of deliberation 
 the warmth, courage, and inconsiderate energy 
 which had rendeied him the first decided oppo- 
 nent of the Revolution, and ultimately proved so 
 fatal to the fortunes of his lamily.j 
 
 * " The dispositions of your majesty," said he, in this 
 circular, "have awakened my wannest gratitude, and I in- 
 voke them at this moment, when, notwithstanding my ac- 
 ceptance of the new Constitution, the factions openly avow 
 their intenti(m of overturning the monarchy. I have ad- 
 dressed myself to the emperor, the Empress of Russia, the 
 Kings of Spain and Sweden, aad have suctgested the plan ot 
 a congress of the principal jiowers, supported liy an armed 
 force, as the best means of arresting the factions here, es- 
 tablishing a more desirable order of things in this kingdom, 
 and preventing the malady under which it labours from ex- 
 tending to the adjoining states. I need hardly say that the 
 most absolute secrecy is required in regard to this communi- 
 cation.'" — Hard., i., 94, 95. 
 
 t Hard., i., 95, 97. } Hard., i., 100, 107. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 173 
 
 Meanwhile the King and aueen of France, 
 finding their situation insupportable, and being 
 aware that not only their liberty, but their lives 
 were now endangered, resolved to make every 
 exertion to break their fetters. With this view 
 thev despatched secret agents to Brussels and 
 Cologne, to communicate vv-ith the emperor and 
 King of Prussia ; and Count Alphonso de Dur- 
 fort was instructed to inform the Count d'Artois 
 that the king could no longer influence his min- 
 isters ; that he was, in reality, the prisoner of M. 
 La Fayette, who, secretly and hypocritically, was 
 conducting everything to a republic ; that they 
 were filled with the most anxious desire to make 
 their escape by the route either of Metz or Valen- 
 ciennes, and placed entire reliance on the zeal and 
 activity of their august relatives. Furnished 
 with these instractions, Count de Durfort left 
 Paris in the end of April, 1791, and soon joined 
 the Count D'Artois at Venice, who was already 
 arranging with the English and Prussian envoys 
 the most probable means of overcoming the scru- 
 ples of the emperor.* 
 
 When these different parties met with the em- 
 peror at Mantua, on the 20th of May, 1791, the 
 most discordant plans were submitted for his 
 consideration. That of the Count d'Artois, 
 which was really drawn up by M. Calonne, the 
 former minister of Louis XVI., was the most 
 warlike, and proposed the adoption, in July fol- 
 lowing, of hostile measures. Alarmed by the 
 menacing principles openly announced by the 
 National Assembly, and by the growing symp- 
 toms of disaffection among their own subjects, 
 the Emperor of Germany, the King of Sardinia, 
 Treaty of and the King" of Spain concluded an 
 Mantua, agreement at Mantua in May, 1791, 
 May, 1791. by which it was concerted, " 1. That 
 the emperor should assemble thirty-five thousand 
 men on the frontiers of Flanders, while fifteen 
 thousand soldiers of the Germanic body should 
 present themselves in Alsace ; fifteen thousand 
 Swiss on the frontiers of Franche Comte; fifteen 
 thousand Piedmontese on the frontiers of Dau- 
 phiny ; and the King of Spain collect an army 
 of twenty thousand men on the Pyrenees. 2. 
 That these forces should he formed into five ar- 
 mies, who should act on their respective fron- 
 tiers of France, and join themselves to the male- 
 contents in the provinces and the troops who 
 had preserved their allegiance to the throne. 3. 
 That in the following July a protestation should 
 be issued by the princes of the House of Bour- 
 bon, and immediately after a manifesto by the 
 allied powers. 4. That the object of these as- 
 semblages of troops was, that the French people, 
 terrified at the approach of the allied forces, 
 should seek for safety in submitting themselves 
 to the king, and imploring his mediation." The 
 sovereigns counted on the neutrality of Eng- 
 land ; but it was expected, from the assurances 
 given by Lord Elgin, that, as Elector of Hano- 
 ver, the English monarch would accede to the 
 coalition.t 
 
 Meanwhile the royal family of France, fol- 
 lowing the councils of Baron Breteuil, and in- 
 fluenced by the pressing and increasing dangers 
 of their situation, had finally resolved on esca- 
 ping from Paris. While Louis and M. de Bouil- 
 le were combining the means of an evasion, ei- 
 ther towards Montmedy or Metz, the principal 
 
 * Hard., i., 105, HI. Bertrand de MoUeville, Mem., iii., 
 147, 170. 
 
 tHard., i. Jom., i., 262. Pieces Just., No. 1. Mig., 
 i., 131. 
 
 courts of Europe were apprized of the design ; 
 Leopold gave orders to the government of the Low 
 Countries to place at the disposal of the king, 
 when he reached their frontiers, not only the im- 
 perial troops, but the sums which might be in the 
 public treasur}' ; while the King of Sweden, 
 stimulated by his chivalrous spirit and the in- 
 stances of Catharine of Russia, drew near to the 
 frontiers of France under pretence of drinking 
 the waters, but in reality to receive the august 
 fugitives. The emperor, the Count d'Artois, 
 and M. Calonne, however, strongly opposed the 
 contemplated flight as extremely hazardous to 
 the royal family, and calculated to retard rather 
 than advance the ultimate settlement of the af- 
 fairs of France. They were persuaded that the 
 only way to effect this object, so desirable to 
 that country and to Europe, was to support the 
 Royalist and Constitutional party in France by 
 the display of such a force as might enable them 
 to throw off the yoke of the revolutionary fac- 
 tion, and establish a permanent constitution by 
 the consent of king, nobles, and people. Im- 
 pressed with these ideas, the emperor addressed 
 a circular* from Padua to the princi- j , g j^^gj 
 pal powers, in which he announced ' 
 
 the principles according to which, in his opin- 
 ion, the common efibrts should be directed. At 
 the same time. Count Lamarck, a secret agent 
 of Louis, came to London to endeavour to en- 
 gage Mr. Pitt in the same cause ; but nothing 
 could induce the English government to swerve 
 from the strict neutrality which, on a full con- 
 sideration of -the case, they had resolved to 
 adopt.t At Vienna, however, the efforts of the 
 anti-revolutionary party were more successful ; 
 and on the 25th of July, Prince Kau- j^j 35 1791 
 nitz and Bischofswerder signed, on ' 
 
 the part of Austria and Prussia, a convention, 
 wherein it was stipulated that the two couits 
 should unite their good offices to combine the 
 European powers to some common measure in 
 regard to France, and that they should conclude 
 a treaty of alliance as soon as peace was estab- 
 lished between the Empress Catharine and the 
 Ottoman Porte, and that the former power, as 
 well as Great Britain, the States-General, and 
 the Elector of Saxony, should be invited to ac- 
 cede to it. This convention, intended to put a 
 bridle on the ambition of Russia on the one hand, 
 and of France on the other, deserves attention as 
 the first basis of the grand alliance which after- 
 ward wrought such wonders in Europe.: 
 
 The pressing dangers of the royal family of 
 France, after the failure of the flight to Varen- 
 nes, and their open imprisonment in the Tuileries 
 by the Revolutionists, soon after suggested the 
 necessity of more urgent measures. It was 
 agreed for this purpose that a personal interview 
 should take place between the Emperor of Aus- 
 tria and the King of Prussia, to concert measures 
 
 * He invited the sovereigns to issue a joint declaration: 
 '' That they regard the cause of his most Chnstian majesty 
 as their own ; that they demand that that prince and his 
 family should forthwith be set at liberty, and permitted to 
 go wherever they chose, under the safeguard of inviolabili- 
 ty and respect to their persons ; that they will combine to 
 avenge, in the most striking manner, every attempt on the 
 liberty, honour, or security, of the king, the queen, or the 
 royal familv ; that they vvill recognise as legitimate only 
 those laws 'which shall have been agreed to by the king 
 when in a state of entire liberty ; and that they wijl exert 
 all their power to put a period to a usurpation of power 
 which has assumed the character of an open revolt, and 
 which It behooves all established governments for their own 
 sake to repress." — Hard., i., 116. 
 
 t Hard., i., 114, 119. t Hard., i., 119, 121. 
 
174 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 on that all-important subject. This led to the 
 Treaty of Pil- ifamous meeting at Pilnitz, which 
 nitz, Aug-. 27, took place in August, 1791, between 
 J"9l- the emperor and the King of Prus- 
 
 sia. There was Iramed the no less celebrated 
 Declaration of Pilnitz, which was conceived in 
 tiie following terms: " Their majesties, the em- 
 peror and the King of Prussia, having consider- 
 ed the representations of monsieur, brother of the 
 king, and' of his excellency the Count d'Artois, 
 declare conjointly, that they consider the situa- 
 tion of the King of France as a matter of com- 
 mon interest to all the European sovereigns. 
 They hope that the reality of that interest will be 
 duly appreciated by the other powers, whose as- 
 sistance they will invoke, and that, in conse- 
 quence, they will not decline to employ their 
 forces, conjointly with their majesties, in order 
 fo put the King of France in a situation to lay 
 the foundation of a monarchical government, 
 conformable alike to the rights of sovereigns and 
 the wellbeing of the French nation. In that 
 case, the emperor and king are resolved to act 
 promptly with the forces necessary to attain their 
 common end. In the mean time, they will give 
 the requisite orders for the troops to hold them- 
 selves in immediate readiness for active ser- 
 vice."*t It was alleged by the French, that, be- 
 sides this, several secret articles were agi'eed to 
 by the allied sovereigns ; but no sufficient evi- 
 dence has ever been produced to substantiate the 
 allegation.! 
 
 Although these declarations appeared abun- 
 dantly hostile to the usurpation of government 
 by the democracy of France, the alUed powers 
 soon proved that they had no serious intention 
 at that period of going to war. On the contrary, 
 their measures evinced, after the declaration of 
 Pilnitz, that they were actuated by pacific senti- 
 ments; and in October, 1791, it was officially 
 announced by M. Montmorin, the minister of 
 foreign affairs, to the assembly, "that the king 
 had no reason to apprehend aggression from any 
 foreign power.'"! Their real object was to in- 
 duce the French, by the fear of approaching 
 danger, to liberate Louis from the perilous situ- 
 ation in which he was placed. Their forces 
 were by no means in a condition to undertake a 
 
 * Jom., i., 265. Pieces Just., No. 1. 
 
 + " As far as we have been able to trace," said Mr. Pitt, 
 " the declaration signed at Pilnitz referred to the imprison- 
 ment of Louis XVI. ; its immediate view was to effect his 
 deliverance, if a concert sufficiently extensive could be 
 formed for that purpose. It left the internal state of France 
 to be decided by the king restored to his liberty, with the 
 free consent of the states of the kingdom, and it did not con- 
 tain one word relative to the dismemberment of the coun- 
 try."* " This, though not a plan for the dismemberment of 
 France," said Mr. Fox, in reply, " was, in the eye of reason 
 and common sense, an aggression against it. There was, 
 indeed, no such thing as a treaty of Pilnitz, but there was a 
 declaration, which amounted to an act of hostile aggression. "t 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1792, 86, 87. 
 
 <) " We are accused," said M. Montmorin, the minister of 
 foreign affaire, in a report laid before the assembly on the 31st 
 of October, 1791, "of wishing to propagate our opinions, 
 and of trying to raise the people of other states against their 
 govemmeuts. I know that such accusations are false, so 
 far as regards the French ministry ; but it is too true that 
 individuals, and even societies, have sought to establish, with 
 that view, correspondences in the neighbouring states ; and 
 it is also true that all the princes, and almost all the govern- 
 ments of Europe, are daily insulted in our incendiary jour- 
 nals. The king, by accepting the Constitution, has removed 
 the danger with which you were threatened : nothing indi- 
 cates at this moment any disposition on their part to a hos- 
 tile enterprise. — Jom., i., 286 ; Piices Just., No. 6. 
 
 » firt. Hiit, EtyiT., 1315. 
 
 t lb , 135& 
 
 contest.* This is admitted by the ablest of the 
 Republican writers.t 
 
 Nor did the actions of these powers belie their 
 declaration : no warlike preparations were made 
 by the German states, no armies were collected 
 on the frontiers of France ; and, accordingly, 
 when the struggle began next year, they were 
 taken entirely by surprise. France had one 
 hundred and thirty thousand men on the Rhine 
 and along her eastern frontier, while the Aus- 
 Irians had only ten thousand men in the Low 
 Countries.! 
 
 In truth, the primary and real object of the 
 convention of Pilnitz was the extrication of the 
 king and royal family from personal danger; 
 and no sooner did this object appear to be gained 
 by their liberation from confinement, and the ac- 
 ceptance of the Constitution, than the coalesced 
 sovereigns laid aside all thoughts of hostile opera- 
 tions, for which they were but ill prepared, and 
 which the urgent state of aflairs in Poland, ready 
 to be swallowed up by the ambition of Catharine, 
 rendered in an especial manner unadvisable. 
 When Frederic William received the intelli- 
 gence, he exclaimed, " At length, then, the peace 
 of Europe is secured." The emperor testified 
 his satisfaction at the acceptance of^the Constitu- 
 tion in a letter addressed to Louis, and shortly 
 after despatched a circular to all the sovereigns 
 of Europe, in which he aimounced that the king's 
 acceptance of the Constitution had removed the 
 reason for hostile demonstrations, and that they 
 were, in consequence, suspended.! The cabinet 
 of Berlin entered entirely into the same senti- 
 ments ; and the opinion was general, both there 
 and at Vienna, that the troubles of France were 
 at length permanently appeased by the great con- 
 cessions made to the Democratic party, and that 
 prudence and address were all that was now 
 necessary to enable the French monarch to reign, 
 if not with his former lustre, at least without 
 risk, and in a peaceable manner.ll 
 
 These being the views entertained by the two 
 powers whose situation necessarily led them 
 to take the lead in the strife, it was of compara- 
 
 * Bot., i., 73. Jom., i., 191. Lac., ix., 24. Ann. Reg., 
 xixiv., 86. 
 
 t " The declaration of Pilnitz," says Thiers, " remained 
 without effect ; either from a cooling of zeal on the part of 
 the allied sovereigns, or from a sense of the danger which 
 Louis would have run, after he was, from the failure of the 
 flight to Varennes, a prisoner in the hands of the assemblyi 
 His acceptance of the Constitution was an additional reason 
 for awaiting the result of experience, before plunging into 
 active operations. This was the opinion of Leopold and his 
 minister Kaunitz. Accordingly, when Louis notified to the 
 foreign courts that he had accepted the Constitution, and 
 was resolved faithfully to observe it, Austria returned an 
 answer entirely pacific, and Prussia and England did the 
 same." — Thiers, li., 19. 
 
 t Ann. Reg;., xxxiii., 206. Th., ii., 78. 
 
 t) " His majesty announces to all the courts, to whom he 
 transmitted his first circular, dated Padua, 6th July, that the 
 situation of the King of France, which gave occasion to the 
 said circular, having changed, he deems it incumbent upon 
 him to lay before them the views which he now entertains 
 on this subject. His majesty is of opinion that the King of 
 France is now to be regarded as free ; and, in consequence, 
 his acceptation of the Constitution, and all the acts follow- 
 ing thereon, are valid. lie hopes that the effect of this ac- 
 ceptance will be to restore order in France, and give an as- 
 cendency to persons of moderate principles, according to the 
 wish of his most Christian majesty ; but as these appear- 
 ances may prove fallaeious, and the disorders of license and 
 the violence towards the king may be renewed, he is also 
 of opinion that the measures concerted between the sover- 
 eigns should be suspended, and not entirely abandoned, and 
 that they should cause their respective ambass.idors at Paris 
 to declare that the coalition still subsists, and that, if neces- 
 sary, they would still be ready to support the rights of the 
 king and of the monarchy." — Letter, 23(i October, 1791, 
 Hard., i., 159. D Hard., i., 157, 159. 
 
1791.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 175 
 
 lively little importance what were the feelings of 
 the more distant or inferior courts. In the north, 
 Catharine and Gustavus were intent on warlike 
 measures, and refused to admit into their pres- 
 ence the ambassador who came to announce the 
 king's acceptance of the Constitution, upon the 
 ground that he could not be regarded as a free 
 agent ; and the courts of Spain and Sardinia had 
 coldly received the intelligence. Impressed with 
 the idea that the king's life was seriously men- 
 aced, and that he -was, even in accepting the Con- 
 stitution, acting under compulsion, these north- 
 ern and southern potentates entered into an 
 agreement, the purport of which was, that an ar- 
 mament ot thirty-six thousand Russians 
 1791 '"^ ' ^^^ Swedes were to be conveyed from 
 the Baltic to a point on the coast of Nor- 
 mandy, where they were to be disembarked and 
 march direct to Paris, while they were support- 
 ed by a hostile demonstration from Spain and 
 Piedmont on the Pyrenees and Alps : a project 
 obviou.'=;ly hopeless if not supported by the forces 
 of Austria and Prussia on the Rhine, and which 
 the failure of the expedition to Varennes and the 
 subsequent course of events entirely dissipated.* 
 
 Meanwhile the Count d'Artois and the emi- 
 grant nobility, taking counsel of nothing but 
 their valour, and relying on the open support 
 and encouragement afforded them by the courts 
 of Stockholm and St. Petersburg, proceeded with 
 the rashness and impetuosity which, in every 
 period of the Revolution, have been the charac- 
 teristics of their race. Numerous assemblages 
 took place at Brussels, Coblentz, and Ettenheim : 
 the Empress Catharine, in a letter addressed to 
 Marshal Broglie, which they ostentatiously pub- 
 lished, manifested the wann interest which she 
 took in their cause ; horses and aims were pur- 
 chased, and organized corps of noble adventurers 
 already began to be formed on the right bank of 
 the Rhine. Transported with ardour at so many 
 favourable appearances, the exiled princes ad- 
 dressed to Louis an open remon.strance, in which 
 Sent 10 1791 '^'^^ Strongly urged him to refuse 
 
 ^ ' ' 'his acceptance to the Constitution 
 which was about to be submitted to him ; repre- 
 sented that all his former concessions had led 
 only to impunity to every species of violence, 
 and the despotism of the most abandoned persons 
 in the kingdom ; protested against any apparent 
 consent which he might be compelled to give to 
 the Constitution, and renewed the assurances of 
 the intention of themselves and the allied pow- 
 ers speedily to deliver him from his fetters.t 
 
 The only point that remained in dispute be- 
 tween the emperor and the French king was 
 the indemnities to be provided to the Gennan 
 princes and prelates who had been dispossessed 
 by the decrees of the National Assembly ; but on 
 this point Leopold evinced a firmness worthy of 
 the head of the Empire. Early in December he 
 addressed to them a formal letter, in which he 
 announced his own resolution and that of the 
 diet " to afford them every succour which the 
 dignity of the imperial crown and the mainte- 
 nance of the public constitutions of the Empire 
 required, if they did not obtain that complete 
 restitution or indemnification which existing 
 treaties provided." Notwithstanding this, how- 
 ever, the cabinets of Vienna and Berlin still en- 
 tertained so confident an opinion that the dif- 
 ferences with France would terminate amica- 
 bly, and that Louis, now restored to his author- 
 
 ity, would speedily do justice to the injured par- 
 ties, that they not only made no hostile prepara- 
 tions whatever, but withdrew a large proportion 
 of their troops from the Flemish provinces.* 
 
 In truth, though they felt the necessity of ta- 
 king some measures against the com- j^ ^^ 
 mon dangers which threatened all es- abandoned 
 tablished institutions with destruction, by the al- 
 the allied sovereigns had an unde- ^'^^■ 
 fined dread of the magical and unseen powers 
 with which France mi.ght assail them, and 
 pierce them to the heart through the bo.som of 
 their own troops. The language held out by the 
 National Assembly and its powerful orators, of 
 war to the palace and peace to the cottage ; the 
 hand of fraternity which they offered to extend to 
 the disaffected in all countries who were inclined 
 to throw off the yoke of oppression ; the seeds of 
 sedition which its emissaries had so generally 
 spread through the adjoining states, diffused an 
 anxious feeling among the friends of order 
 throughout the world, and inspired the dread, 
 that, by bringing up their forces to the vicinity of 
 the infected districts, they might be seized with 
 the contagion, and direct their first strokes 
 against the power which commanded them. 
 England, notwithstanding the energetic remon- 
 strances of Mr. Burke, was still reposing in fan- 
 cied security; and Catharine of Russia, solely 
 bent on territorial aggrandizement, was almost 
 entirely absorbed by the troubles of Poland, and 
 the facilities which they aflbrdedto her ambitious 
 projects. Prussia, however anxious to espouse 
 the cause of royalty, was unequal to a contest 
 with revolutionary France ; and Austria, under 
 the pacific Leopold, had entirely abandoned her 
 military projects since the throne of Louis had 
 been nominally re-established after the state of 
 thraldom immediately consequent upon the flight 
 to Varennes had been relaxed. Accordingly, 
 the protestation and manifesto contemplated in 
 the agreement at Mantua never were issued, and 
 the military preparations provided for by that 
 treaty never took place. Of all the powers men- 
 tioned in the agreement, the Bishop of Spires, 
 the Elector of Treves, and the Bishop of Stras- 
 burg alone took up arms ; and their feeble con- 
 tingents, placed in the very front of danger, were 
 dissolved at the first summons of the French 
 government.t 
 
 But it was no part of the policy of the ruling 
 party at Paris to remain at peace. .j.j,e French 
 They felt, as they themselves ex- Revolutionary 
 pressed it, " that their Revolution party resolve 
 could not stand still; it must ad- "Q^a''- 
 vance and embrace other countries, or perish in 
 their own." Indeed, the spirit of revolution is 
 so nearly allied to that of military adventure 
 that it is seldom that the one exists without lead- 
 ing to the other. The same restless activity, the 
 same contempt of danger, the same craving for 
 excitation, are to be found in both : it is extreme- 
 ly difficult for the fervour excited by a success- 
 ful revolt to subside till it is turned into the 
 channel of military exploit. Citizens who have 
 overturned established institutions, who have 
 tasted of the intoxicating draught of popular ap- 
 plau.se, who have felt the sweets of unbridled 
 power during the brief period which elap.ses be- 
 fore they fall under the yoke of despots of their 
 own creation, are incapable of returning to the 
 
 * Hard., i., 169, 171. 
 
 t Lac., ix., 24, 25, 26. Th., ii., 76, 77, 78. Dura., 410. 
 Bot., i., 73, 75. Ann. Reg.j xwiv.j «6, 87. Hard., i., 172, 
 * Hard., i., 159, 163. t Hard., i., 152, 153, 165. 180. 
 
176 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 habits of pacific life. The unceasing toil, the 
 obscure destiny, the humble enjoyment of labori- 
 ous industry, seem intolerable to men who have 
 shared in 'the glories of popular resistance; 
 while the heart-stirring accompaniments, the li- 
 centious habits, the captivating glory of arras, 
 appear the only employment worthy of their re- 
 nown. The insecurity of property and fall of 
 credit which invariably follow any considerable 
 political convulsion, throw multitudes out of em- 
 ployment, and increase the necessity for some 
 drain to let off the tumultuous activity of the 
 people. It has, accordingly, been often observ- 
 ed, that democratic states have, in eveiy age, 
 been the most warlike, and the most inclined to 
 aggression upon their neighbours ;* and the rea- 
 son must be the same in all periods, that revolu- 
 tionary enterprise both awakens the passions, 
 and induces the necessity which leads to war. 
 
 The partv of the Girondists, who were at that 
 Declam-ations" penod the ruling power in France, 
 of the Giron- Were resolutely bent on Avar. 1 he 
 dists in favour remarkable speech has already been 
 of war. given, which Isnard, on November 
 
 29, 1791, delivered in the National Assembly .t 
 Soon after, repeated philippics, in still more vio- 
 lent language, were pronounced in the assembly 
 by Brissot and Vergniaud against the European 
 powers, which, even according to the admission 
 of the French themselves, " were so many dec- 
 larations of war and imprudent provocations, 
 which were calculated to put the French in hos- 
 tility with all Europe." " The infonnation of 
 Brissot, the profound political views which he 
 develops, are so entirely at variance with the 
 sophisms with which his speech abounds," says 
 Jomini, " that one would be inclined to suppose 
 he had been the secret agent of the English gov- 
 ernment, if we did not know that his errors at 
 that period were shared by all the most enlight- 
 ened men of France. An orator, enthusiastic 
 even to madness, was alone capable of bringing 
 on his country by such harangues, when torn 
 within and supported without, the hatred of all 
 the European chiefs. No paraphrase can con- 
 vey an adequate idea of the violence of the lead- 
 ers of the assembly at that period : we must be- 
 queath their speeches to posterity, as frightful 
 proofs of what can be effected by an ill-directed 
 enthusiasm and spirit of party."! 
 
 " You are about," said Brissot, on the 29th of 
 D 29 1791 December, 1791, " to judge the cause 
 ' ' of kings: show yourseh^es worthy of 
 so august a function : place yourselves above 
 them, or you will be unworthy of freedom. The 
 French Revolution has overturned all former 
 diplomacy ; though the people are not yet ever}'- 
 where free, governments are no longer able to 
 stiffe their voice. The sentiments of the English 
 on our revolution are not doubtful : they behold 
 in it the best guarantee of their own freedom. It 
 is highly improbable that the British government 
 will ever venture, even if it had the means, to 
 attack the French Revolution ; that improbabili- 
 ty is converted into a certainty when we consider 
 the divisions of their Parliament, the weight of 
 their public debt, the declining condition of their 
 Indian affairs. England would never hesitate 
 between its king and its liberty ; between the re- 
 pose of which it has so much need, and a con- 
 test which would probably occasion its ruin. 
 Austria is as little to be feared : her soldiers, 
 
 * Mitford's History of Greece. Sismondi's Rep. Ital. 
 
 tSee ante, 117. 
 
 X Jora., i., 198. Pi^cea Just., i., 7, 8, and 9. 
 
 whom her princes in vain seek to estrange from 
 the people, remember that it is among them that 
 they find their friends, their relations ; and they 
 will not separate their cause from that of free- 
 dom. The successor of Frederic, if he has any 
 prudence, will hesitate to ruin forever, in com- 
 bating our forces, an army which, once destroyed, 
 will never be restored. In vain would the am- 
 bition of Russia interfere with our revolution : 
 a new revolution in Poland would arrest her 
 arms, and render Warsaw the centre of freedom 
 to the east of Europe. Search the map of the 
 world, you will in vain look lor a power whom 
 France has any reason to dread. If any foreign 
 states exist inclined for war, we must get the 
 start of them. He who is anticipated is already 
 half vanquished. If they are only making a pre- 
 tence of hostile preparations, we must unmask 
 them, and in so doing proclaim to the world their 
 impotence. That act of a great people is what 
 will put the seal to our revolution. War is now 
 become necessary: France is bound to undertake 
 it to maintain her honour ; she would be forever 
 disgraced if a few thousand rebels or emigrants 
 could overawe the organs of the law. War is 
 to be regarded as a public blessing. The only 
 evil that you have to apprehend is that it should 
 not arise, and that you should lose the opportunity 
 of finally crushing the insolence of the emigrants. 
 Till you take that decisive step, they will never 
 cease to deceive you by diplomatic falsehood. It 
 is no longer with governments we must treat, it 
 is with their subjects."* 
 
 " The mask is at length fallen," said the same 
 orator on the 17th of January, 1792. " Your real 
 enemy is declared. General Bender has revealed 
 his name : it is the emperor. The electors were 
 mere names, put forward to conceal the real 
 mover : you may now despise the emigrants ; 
 the electors are no longer worthy of your resent- 
 ment; fear has prostrated them at your feet. You 
 must anticipate his hostility: now is the time to 
 show the sincerityof your declaration, a hundred 
 times repeated, that you are resolved to have free- 
 dom or death. Death ! you have no reason to fear 
 it : consider your ovnx situation and that of the 
 emperor : your constitution is an eternal anath- 
 ema against absolute thrones : all kings must 
 hate it ; it incessantly acts as their accuser : it 
 daily pronounces their sentence ; it seems to say 
 to each, ' To-morrow you will not exist, or exist 
 only by the tolerance of the people.' I will not 
 say to the emperor with your committee, ' Will 
 you engage not to attack France or its independ- 
 ence V but I will say, ' You have formed a 
 league against France, and therefore I will attack 
 you ;' and that immediate attack is just, is neces- 
 sary, is commanded alike by imperious circum- 
 stances and your oaths."t " The French," said 
 Fauchet, on the 17th of January, 17['2, " after 
 having conquered their own freedom, are the 
 natural allies of all free people. All treaties 
 with despots are null in law, and cannot be 
 maintained in fact without involving the de- 
 sti'uction of our revolution. We have no longer 
 occasion for ambassadors or consuls : they are 
 only titled spies. When others wish our alliance, 
 let them conquer their freedom ; till then, we will 
 treat them as pacific savages. Let us have no 
 war of aggression ; but war witli the princes 
 who conspire on our frontier, with Leopold who 
 seeks to undermine our liberties : cannon are 
 
 *Jom.,i. Pieces Just., No. 7. 299. 
 t Jora., i., 319. Pieces Just., No. 7, 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 177 
 
 our negotiators, bayonets and millions of free- 
 men our ambassadors."* 
 
 Brissot was resolved at all hazards to have a 
 war with Austria: he was literally haunted day 
 and night by the idea of a secret Austrian cabinet 
 which governed the court, and was incessantly 
 thwarting the designs of the Revolutionists. Ev- 
 ervthing depended on him and the Girondists, 
 for the European powers were totally unprepa- 
 red for a contest, and too much occupied with 
 their separate projects to desire a conflict with a 
 revolutionary state in the first burst of its enthu- 
 siasm. If the Girondists could have reconciled 
 themselves to the king, they would have disarm- 
 ed Europe, turned the emigrants into ridicule, 
 and maintained peace. But Brissot and Du- 
 mouricr were resolved at all hazards to break it. 
 The former went so far as to propose that some 
 French soldiers should he disguised as Austrian 
 hussars, and make a nocturnal attack on the 
 French villages ; upon receipt of the intelligence, 
 a motion wa.s to have been made in the assem- 
 bly, and war, it was expected, Avould have been 
 instantly decreed in the enthusiasm of the mo- 
 ment. His anxiety for its commencement was 
 indescribable : De Graves, Claviere, and Roland 
 hesitated on account of the immense responsibil- 
 ity of such an undertaking; but Dumourier and 
 he uniformly declared that nothing but a war 
 could consolidate the freedom of France, disclose 
 the enemies of the Constitution, and unmask the 
 perfidy of the court. Their whole leisure time 
 was employed in studying maps of the Low 
 Countries, and meditating schemes of aggran- 
 dizement in that favourite object of French am- 
 bition.t 
 
 When such was the language of the leading 
 men in the French government and National As- 
 sembly, it is of little moment to detail the nego- 
 tiations and mutual recriminations which led to 
 the commencement of hostilities by the French 
 government. The French complained, and ap- 
 parently with justice, that numerous bodies of 
 emigrants were assembled and organized into 
 military bodres at Coblcntz, and on other points 
 on the frontier; that the Elector of Treves and the 
 other lesser powers had evaded all demands for 
 their dispersion ; that Austrian troops were rap- 
 idly defiling towards the Brisgau and the Rhine; 
 and that no satisfactory explanation of these 
 movements had been given.j 
 
 The Imperialists complained, with not less rea- 
 Mutualre- ^^^'^i ^^^^ '^^ French afliliated .socie- 
 criminations, ties were Striving to spread sedition 
 which lead through all the conterminous states ; 
 ^ "^"- that Piedmont, Switzerland, and Bel- 
 
 gium were agitated by their exertions ; that the 
 April 20 1792 Parisian orators and journals daily 
 ' ' ■ published invitations to all other peo- 
 ple to revolt, and otfered them the hand of frater- 
 nity if they did so ; that Avignon and the Venai- 
 sin had, without the colour of legal right, been 
 annexed to France; and the Catholics and no- 
 bles in Alsace deprived of their possessions, hon- 
 ours, and privileges, in violation of the treaty of 
 Westphalia. The ultimatum of Austria was, 
 that the monarchy should be re-established on 
 the footing on which it was placed by the royal 
 ordinance of June 23, 1789 ; that the propertv of 
 the Church in Alsace should be restored ; the fiefs 
 of that province, Avith the seignorial rights, given 
 back to the German princes, and Avignon, with 
 
 * Jnm., i., 3?3, 324. 
 
 t Mig., i., 167. Jom., i., 202. 
 
 Vol. I.— Z 
 
 t Uum.,410, 411. 
 
 the Venaisin, to the pope. These propositions 
 were rejected; and Dumourier, who had now 
 succeeded to the portfolio of tureign aflairs, in- 
 duced the French king to commence hostilities, 
 in the hope of being able to overrun Flanders be^ 
 fore any considerable Austrian Ibrces could be 
 brought up to its support.* On the 20th of April, 
 1792, Louis had the melancholy duty of declarin'^ 
 war against his own brother-in-law, the King of 
 Hungary and Bohemia. 
 
 The real intentions of the allies at this jiinc- 
 ture, and the moderation of the views with which 
 they were inspired in regard to the war, are well 
 illustrated by a note communicated by the cabi- 
 nets of Berlin and Vienna to the Dani.sh govern- 
 ment, in which, renouncing all idea j, 
 of interfering in the internal aflairs '^^y 12,1,92. 
 of France, they limit their views, even after war 
 had been commenced by Frc'ince, to the forma- 
 tion of a buhvark against the revolutionary prin- 
 ciples of the French Republic, and the obtaining 
 of indemnities for the German princes.t This 
 note is the more remarkable, that it embraces 
 precisely the principles which, announced two- 
 and-twenty years afterward in the plains of Cham- 
 pagne by "the allied sovereigns, brought the war 
 to a triumphant conclusion. 
 
 In contemplation of the approaching struggle, 
 a treaty of alliance, ofiensive and de- ' 
 
 fensive, had been, on the 7th of Feb- '. l'92. 
 
 ruar}', 1792, concluded between Sweden and Aus- 
 tria. But one of the contracting parties did not 
 long survive this measure. On'" March 1st Leo- 
 pold died, leaving his son, Francis II., to suc- 
 ceed to his extensive dominions ; and, a 
 fortnight afier, Gustavus, king of Swe- fj'Jo^ '^' 
 den, was assassinated at a masked ball. 
 It seemed as W Providence were preparing a new 
 race of actors for the mighty scenes which were 
 to be performed. 
 
 Leopold expired on the 1st of March, of a mor- 
 tification in the stomach. He was succeeded by 
 his son Francis, then hardly twentv-four years 
 of age, whose reign was the most eventful, for long 
 the most disa.strous, and ultimately the most glori- 
 
 * Jom., i., 205. Pieces Just., No. 13. Mig., i.. 167. 
 
 t " The object of the alliance is twofold. The first object 
 concerns the rights of the disposse.<;sed princes, and the dan- 
 gers of the propagation of revolutionary ( rinciples ; the sec- 
 ond, the maintenance of the fundamental principles of the 
 French monarchy. The first object is sufficiently explained 
 by its very announcement ; the second is not as yet suscep- 
 tible of any proper determination. 
 
 " The allied powers have unquestionably no rig-ht to in- 
 sist, fiom a great and independent power 'such as France, 
 that everything should be re-established a,s it was formerly, 
 or that it shall adopt such and such modifications in its gov- 
 ernment. It results from this, that tliey will recognise as le- 
 gal any modification of the monarchical government which 
 the king, when enjoying unrestrained lilierty, shall agree to 
 with the legal representatives of the nation. The forces to 
 be employed in this enterpnse mu.st be proportioned to its 
 magnitude, and to the resistance which may probably be ex- 
 perienced. With a view to the arrangement of these objects, 
 the city of A'ienna is proposed as a convenient station ; but 
 when the armies are assembled, a congress must be estab- 
 lished nearer France than that city, foUov/ed by a formal 
 declaration of the objects which the allies have in view in 
 their intervention."— Hard., i., 391, 392. 
 
 The same principles were announced by Frederic Will- 
 iam to Prince Ilardenberg, in a secret and confidential con- 
 versation which that statesman had with his sovereign on 
 July 12, 1792. He declared " that France should not be dis- 
 membered in any of its parts ; that the allies had no inten- 
 tion of interfering in its internal government; but that, as 
 an indispensable preliminary to the settlement of the public 
 disturbances, the kin"' should be set at liberty, and reinvest- 
 ed with his full authority; that the ministers of religion 
 should be restored to their altars, and the dispossessed pro- 
 prietors to their estates, and that Fr.ance should pay the ex- 
 penses of the war."— Haud., i., 400. 
 
178 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VU. 
 
 ous in the Austrian annals. He had been brought 
 up at Florence, at the court where his father ex- 
 erted the philosophic beneticence of his disposi- 
 tion; and had married four years the Princess 
 Elizabeth of Wirtemburg, who died in childbed 
 on tiie 8th of February, 1790; alter which, the 
 future emperor married, in the .same year, the 
 Princess Theresa of Naples. The fu-st meas- 
 ures of his reign were popular and judicious; 
 Kaunitz was cuntinued prime-minister, and with 
 him were joined Marshal Lascy, long the friend 
 of Leopold, and Count Francis Colloredo, his 
 Ibrnier preceptor. He suppressed those articles 
 in the journals in which he was loaded with 
 praise, observing, " It is by my future conduct 
 that I am alone to be judged worthy of praise or 
 blame." Leopold, at his accession, had oi'dered 
 all the anonymous and secret communications 
 with which a young prince is usually assailed to 
 be burned : Francis went a step farther — he issued 
 a positive order against any of them being re- 
 ceived. AVhen the li.-t of pensioners was sub- 
 mitted to his inspection, he with his own hand 
 erased the name of his mother, obsei-ving that it 
 was rmbecoming that she should be dependant on 
 the bounty of the state. With such bright col- 
 ours did the dawn of this eventful and glorious 
 reign arise.* 
 
 Still Great Britain presei-ved a sti'ict neutrali- 
 Great Britain ty. During the whole of 1793, preg- 
 still strictly nant, as we shall immediately see, 
 neutral. -^rjtii great events, and which brought 
 
 France to within a hairbreadth of destraction, no 
 attempt was made to take advantage of her weak- 
 ness, to wreak on that unhappy country the A'eu- 
 geance of national rivalry. England did not, in 
 the hour of France's distress, retaliate upon her 
 the injuries inflicted in the American war. This 
 fact was so notorious, that it was constantly ad- 
 mitted by the French themselves. " There is but 
 one nation," said M. Kersaint, in the National 
 Assembly, on Sept. 18, 1792, " whose neutrality 
 on the affairs of France is decidedly pronounced, 
 and that is England."t 
 
 But with the progress of events the policy of 
 But the lOth Great Britain necessarily undenvent 
 *f Aug. over- a change. The 10th of August 
 tum.s all these came ; the tlirone was overturned, 
 lesolutions. ^j^^ j]^g yoyal family put in captivi- 
 ty; the massacres of September stained Paris 
 with blood, and the victories of Dumourier roll- 
 ed back to the Rhine the tide of foreign invasion. 
 These great events inspired the Revolutionary 
 party with such extravagant expectations, that 
 the continuance of peace on the part of England 
 became impossible. In the phrensy of their dem- 
 ocratic fury, they used language and adopted 
 measures plainly incompatible with the peace 
 or tranquillity of other states. A Jacobin club of 
 o T-Q-T twelve thousand members was estab- 
 '''■' ' ■ lished at Chamberr}', in Savoy, and a 
 hundred of its most active members were select- 
 ed as travelling missionaries, " armed with the 
 torch of reason and liberty, for the purpose of en- 
 lightening the Savoyards on their regeneration 
 and imprescriptible rights.": 
 
 War was declared against the King of Sar- 
 French sys- dinia on Sept. 15, 1792. An address 
 tem of pro- was voted by this club to the French 
 pagandism. Convention as " the legislators of the 
 world," and received by them on the 20th of Octo- 
 ber, 1792. They ordered it to be translated into the 
 
 * Hard., i., 255, 267. t Ann. Reg., xxxiv., 181. 
 
 i Ann. Reg., xxxiv., 135. 
 
 English, Spanish, ana German languages. The 
 rebellious Savoyards next constituted a conven- 
 tion, in imitation of that of France, and ofiered to 
 incorporate themselves with the great Republic. 
 On November the 21.st, this deputation from Sa- 
 voy was received by the National Assembly, and 
 welcomed with the most rapturous applause ; and 
 the president addressed the deputies in a speech, 
 in which he predicted the speedy destnaction of all 
 thrones, and regeneration of the human race; and 
 assured the deputies that " regenei'ated France 
 would make common cause with all those who 
 are resolved to shake off the yoke, and obey only 
 themselves." The French Convention were not 
 slow in accepting the proffered dominion of Sa- 
 voy : the committee, to whom it was remitted to 
 consider the subject, reported '-that all consider- 
 ations, physical, moral, and political, call for the 
 incorporation of that country: all attempts to 
 connect it with Piedmont are fruitle.ss ; the Alps 
 eternally force it back into the domains of France ; 
 the order of nature would be violated if they were 
 to live under different laws ;" and the assembly 
 unanimousl}^ united Savoy with the French Re- 
 public, under the name of the Department of 
 Mont Blanc. The seizure of Savoy was im- 
 mediately followed by that of Nice, 
 with its territory, and Monaco, which 2/ , i / 92. 
 were formed into the department of the Maritime 
 Alps. " Let us not fear," said the reporter, who 
 spoke the opinion of the convention wdth only 
 one dissentient voice, "that this new incorpora- 
 tion will become a sovu'ce of discord. It adds 
 nothing to the hate of oppressors against the 
 French Revolution ; it adds only to the means of 
 the power by which we shall break their league. 
 The die is tlirown: v:c have rushed into the career: 
 all governments are our enemies — all people are our 
 friends: we must be destroyed, or they shall be 
 free : and the axe of liberty, after having pros- 
 trated thrones, shall fall on the head of whoever 
 wishes to collect their ruins."* 
 
 Italy was the next object of attack. "Pied- 
 mont," said Brissot, in his report on Genoa, 
 " must be free. Your sw'ord must not be return- 
 ed to its scabbard before all the subjects of yoiu" 
 enemy are free ; before you are encircled by a 
 girdle of republics." To facilitate such a work, 
 a French fleet cast anchor in the Bay of Genoa; 
 a Jacobin club was established in that city, where 
 the French commanders assisted, and from which 
 adulatory addresses were voted to the French 
 Convention ; while Kellerman, on assuming the 
 command of the arm}^ of the Alps, informed his 
 soldiers that " he had received orders to conquer 
 Rome, and that these orders should be obej-ed.'' 
 The French ambassador at Rome was so active 
 in endeavouring to stimulate the people to insur- 
 rection, that at length, on the 14th of 
 January', 1793, when proceeding in his ^^' ' ' • 
 caniage to one of his assemblies, he was seized by 
 the mob, at whom he had discharged a pistol, and 
 murdered in the streets. This atrocious action 
 naturally excited the most violent indignation in 
 the convention, and a decree passed authorizing 
 the executive to take the most summary mea.s- 
 ures of vengeance. f Nor was Switzerland more 
 fortunate in avoiding the revolutionary tempest. 
 Geneva did not long escape. A French army, un- 
 der General Montesquieu, approached its walls; 
 but that general evinced some hesitation at ta- 
 king a step which was equivalent to declaring 
 war against the Helvetic Confederacy. Brissot, 
 
 * Anji. Reg., xixiv., 139. Bot., i., 88. t Bot., i., 237. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 179 
 
 however, in a laboured report on the subject, de- 
 clared " that the Revolution must take place 
 there, or our own will retrograde," and insisted 
 on the Swiss troops being witlidrawn Irom tiie 
 city, that is, on its being delivered over unarmed 
 to the revolutionary taction. To this humilia- 
 ting condition the Swiss submitted, and, in conse- 
 •n 0- i"Qo quence, on the 27th of December, the 
 Dec. 2/, 1.92. ^{revolutionists overturned the gov- 
 ernment, and delivered over that celebrated city to 
 the French ti'oops. Nor were the small German 
 princes neglected : the Elector Palatine, though 
 all along remaining neutral, had his property on 
 the Lower Rhine put under sequestration, and 
 considerable portions oi' the territories of Hes- 
 se-Darmstadt, Weid-Runchel, and Nassau-Sar- 
 brook annexed to the neighbouring departments 
 of France.* 
 
 At length, on November the 19th, a decree was 
 French dec- Unanimously passed by the assembly, 
 laration of which openly placed the French Re- 
 ivar against public at war with all established 
 all nations, governments. It was in these terms : 
 "The National Convention declares, in the name 
 of the French nation, that it will grant frater7iity 
 and assist a >KC to all people vhovisli to recover their 
 liberty ; and it charges the executive power to 
 send the necessary orders to the generals, to give 
 succour to such people, and to defend those citi- 
 zens who have sutTered, or may suffer, in the 
 cause of liberty.''+ Brissot himself, at a subse- 
 quent period, styled this decree " absurd, impoli- 
 tic, and justly exciting the disquietude of foreign 
 cabinets."? And this was followed up, on De- 
 cember the 1.5th, by a resolution so extraordinarv 
 and unprecedented, that no abstract of its contents 
 can convey an idea of the spirit of the original. § 
 
 This decree was immediately transmitted to 
 the generals on the frontier, with a commentaiy 
 and explanatoiy notes, more violent, if possible, 
 than the original. To assist them in their la- 
 bours, commissaries were appointed with all the 
 
 * Ann. Reg., xxxiv., 153. Bot., i., 96, 97, 237. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., xxxiv., 153. 
 
 t Brissot 4 ses Comraettans, 68, London edition. 
 
 f) "The National Convention, faithful to the principles of 
 the sovereignty of the people, which will not permit them to 
 acknowledge any of the institutions militatinff against it, de- 
 crees as follows : 1. In all those countries which are or shall 
 he occupied by the armies of the French Republic, the gen- 
 erals shall immediately proclaim, in the name of the French 
 people, tlie abolition of all existing imposts and contributions, 
 v{ tithes, feudal and manorial rights, all real and personal 
 servitude, and generally of all privileges. 2. They shall 
 proclaim the sovereignty of the people, and the suppression 
 of all existing autliorities ; they shall convoke the people to 
 nominate a provisional government, and shall cause this de- 
 cree to be translated into the language of that counti-y. 3. 
 All agents, or officers of the former government, military or 
 civil, and all individuals reputed noble, shall be ineligible to 
 any place in such provisional government on the first elec- 
 tion. 4. The generals shall forthwith place under the safe- 
 guard of the French Republic all property, movable or im- 
 movable, belonging to the treasury-, the prince, his adherents 
 and attendants, and to all public bodies and communities, 
 both civil and religious, &c. 9. The provisional government 
 shall cease as soon as the inhabitants, after having declared 
 the sovereignty of the people, shaU have organized a free and 
 popular form of government. 10. In case the common in- 
 terest should require the farther continuance of the troops 
 of the RepubUc on the foreign territory, the Republic shall 
 make the necessary arrangements for their subsistence. 11. 
 The French nation declares that it will treat as enemies the 
 people, who, refusing or renouncing liberty and equality, are 
 desirous of preserving their prince and privileged castes, or 
 of entering into an accommodation with them. The nation 
 promises and engages not to lay down its anns until the 
 sovereignty and liberty of the people, on whose teiritory the 
 French army shall have entered, shall be established, and 
 not to consent to any arrangement or treaty with the princes 
 and privileged persons so dispossessed, with whom the Re- 
 public is at war." — Ann. Reg., xxxiv., 155. 
 
 armies, whose peculiar duty it was to superin- 
 tend the revolutionizing- of the conquered dis- 
 tricts. They were enjoined " not to allow even 
 a shadow of the ancient authorities to remain ;" 
 and " not only to encourage the writings destined 
 to popular instruction, the patriotic societies, and 
 all the establishments consecrated to the propa- 
 gation of liberty, but themselves to have imme- 
 diate commmiication with the people, and coim- 
 teract, by frequent explanations, all the false- 
 hoods by which evil-minded persons could lead 
 them as'tray."*t The decree of the 19th of No- 
 vember was accompanied by an exposition, ad- 
 dressed to the general of eveiy army in France, 
 containing a schedule a.s regularly" digested as 
 any by which the ordinary routine of business in 
 any department of the state could be digested. 
 Each commander was furnished with a general 
 blank formula of a letter for all the nations of 
 the world, beginning with these words : " The 
 
 people of France to the people of , greeting. 
 
 We are come to expel 3'our tyrants." And when 
 it was proposed in the National Convention, on 
 the motion of M. Baraillan,T to declare expressly 
 that the decree of the 19th of November was con- 
 fined to the nations with whom they were at war, 
 the motion was negatived by a large majority. 
 
 These unprecedented and alanning proceed- 
 ings, joined to the rapid increase and 
 treasonable language of the Jacobin ted i^Grea't' 
 societies in this country, excited a Britain by 
 veiy general feeling of disquietude in these pro- 
 Great Britain. The army and navy ^eedmgs. 
 had both been reduced in the early part of the 
 year 1793, in pursuance of a recommendation 
 from the throne, and the English government had 
 resi-sted the most earnest solicitations to join the 
 confederacy against France. Even after th? 
 throne was overturned on the 10th of August, 
 the British minister enjoined their ambassador, 
 before leaving a capital wliere there was no 
 longer a stable government, to lenew their a.ssu- 
 rances of neutrality; and the French minister, 
 M. le Brun, declared that the French govern- 
 ment were confident that " the British cabinet 
 would not, at this decisive moment, depart from 
 the justice, moderation, and impartiality which 
 it had hitherto manifested." But when the Na- 
 tional Convention began openly to aim at revo- 
 lutionizing all other countries, their proceedings 
 were looked upon with distrust; and this wa.s 
 heightened into aversion when they showed a 
 disposition to include England among the states 
 to whose rebellious subjects they extended the 
 hand of fraternit}\§ 
 
 The London Corresponding, and four other 
 societies, on the 7th of November, presented an 
 address, filled with the most revolutionary senti- 
 ments, to the National Assembly, which was re- 
 ceived with the warmest expressions of approba- 
 
 * Lac, xxxiv., 153, 156. 
 
 t The ablest -miters of France fully admit the insane de- 
 sire for foreign warfare which at that period had seized on 
 lis government. " Every one," says Marshal St. Cyr, "of 
 the least foresight, at the close of 1792, -nas aware of the 
 danger which menaced the Republic, and was lost in a.s- 
 tonishment, I will not say at the imprudence, but the folly 
 of the convention, which, instead of seeking to diminish the 
 number of its enemies, seemed resolved to augment them by 
 successive insults, not merely against all kings, but every 
 existing government. A blind and groundless confidence 
 had taken possession of their minds ; they thought only of 
 dethroning kings by their decrees, leaving the ai-mies on 
 wliich the Republic depended m a state of entire destitu- 
 tion."— St. Cyr, Memoirs, i., 19, 20. 
 
 I ParL Hist., xxxiv., 1310, 1.111. 
 
 >j Ann. Reg., xxxiv., 163, 165 ; and Slate Papers, 327. 
 
180 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VII. 
 
 tion ; and so strongly did the belief prevail in 
 France that England was on the verge of a con- 
 vulsion, that on the 21st of November the Presi- 
 dent Gregorie declared,* that these " respectable 
 islanders, once our masters in the social art, 
 have now become our (Usciples ; and, treading 
 in our steps, soon will the high-spirited English 
 strike a blow which shall resound to the extrem- 
 ity of Asia." 
 
 At the same period the French committed an 
 Threatened act of aggression on the Dutch, then 
 opening of in alliance with Great Biitain, which 
 ihe Scheldt, necessarily brought them in collis- 
 ion with the latter power. By the treaty of 
 Munster it had been provided that the Scheldt 
 was to remain forever closed ; but the career of 
 conquest having brought the French annies to 
 Antwerp, a decree of the convention was pass- 
 ed on the 16th of November, ordering the 
 French commander-in-cliief to open the Scheldt : 
 and b7 another decree, passed on the same day, 
 the French troops v/ere ordered to pursue the 
 fugitive Au.strians into the Dutch temtory. 
 These dii'ections were immediately carried into 
 effect by a French squadron, in defiance of the 
 Dutch authorities, sailing up the Scheldt to as- 
 sist in the siege of the citadel of Antwerp. The 
 French did not attempt to justify these violations 
 of subsisting treaties on any grounds recognised 
 by the law of nations, but contended " that trea- 
 ties extorted by cupidity, and yielded by despot- 
 ism, could not bind the free and enlranchised 
 Belgians." What rendered this aggression al- 
 together inexcusable was, that the French had, 
 only eight years before, viz., in 1784, interfered 
 to prevent a similar opening of the Scheldt when 
 attempted by Austria, then mistress of the Low 
 Countries, and had succeeded in resisting that 
 aggression upon the ground of its violating the 
 rights of the United Provinces, as established by 
 the treaty in 173l.t 
 
 In these alarming circumstances the English 
 Preparations militia were called out, the Tower 
 for war in was put in a state of defence, and 
 England. Parliament summoned for the I3th of 
 December. In the speech from the throne, the 
 perilous nature of the new principles of inter- 
 ference with other states, proclaimed and acted 
 upon by the French rulers, was .strongly pointed 
 out. " I have carefully observed," said the king, 
 " a strict neutrality in the present war on the Con- 
 tinent, and have imiformly abstained from any 
 interference in the internal affairs of France ; but 
 it is impossible to see, without the most serious 
 uneasiness, the strong and increasing indica- 
 tions which have there appeared of an intention 
 to excite disturbances in other countries, to dis- 
 regard the rights of neutral nations, and to pur- 
 sue views of conquest and agErrandizement, as 
 well as to adopt towards my allies the States- 
 General, who have observed the same neutrality 
 with myself, measures which are neither con- 
 formable to the law of nations nor to the stipu- 
 lations of existing treaties." An angry corre- 
 spondence, in consequence, ensued between the 
 British cabinet and the French ambassador, 
 which, having led to no satisfactory result, the 
 armaments of England continued without inter- 
 mission, and con'esponding preparations were 
 made in the French harbours. " England," said 
 Lord Grenville, in a note to M. Chauvelin, the 
 French envoy, " never will consent that France 
 
 * Ann, Refj., ixx:ii , 137 ; and State Paper.s, 344, 346. 
 t Le Bran's Memorird to the Convention. Ann. Reg., 
 zxxiii., 165 ; and xxiiv., 173. Sfegur, ii., 78, 79. 
 
 should arrogate to herself the power of annulling 
 at pleasure, and under cover of a pretended 
 natural right, of which she makes herself the 
 sole judge, the political .system of Europe, es- 
 tablished by solemn treaties, and guarantied by 
 the consent of all the powers. This government 
 x^ill also never see with tndilference that France 
 shall make herself, either directly or indirectly, 
 sovereigii of the Low Countries, or general ar- 
 bitress of the rights and liberties of Europe. If 
 France is really desirous of maintaining friend- 
 ship and peace with England, let her renounce 
 her views of aggression and aggrandizement, 
 and confine herself within her own territory, 
 without insulting other governments, disturbing 
 their tranquillity, or violating their rights."* 
 
 To this it was replied by M. Le BrutL the 
 French envoy, " The design of the convention 
 has never been to engage itself to make the 
 cause of some foreign individuals the cause of 
 the whole French nation ; but when a people,- en- 
 slaved by a despot, shall have had the courage to 
 break its chains ; when this people, restored to 
 liberty, shall be constituted in a manner to make 
 clearly heard the expression of the general will ; 
 when that general will shall call for the assist- 
 ance and fraternity of the French nation, it is 
 then that the decree of the 19th will find its nat- 
 ural application ; and this cannot appear strange 
 to an}' one."t 
 
 The intentions of Great Britain, at this period, 
 in regard to France, and the line of conduct 
 which, in conjunction with her allies, she had 
 chalked out for herself before the war was pre- 
 cipitated by the execution of the king, cannot be 
 better illustrated than by reference to an official 
 despatch from Lord Grenville to the „ „ 
 
 British ambassador at St. Peters- ^^' ' 
 burg, on the subject of the proposed confed- 
 eration against the French Republic. From 
 this important document it appears that Eng- 
 land laid it down as the basis of the alliance, 
 that the French should be left entirely at liber- 
 tv to arrange their government and internal con- 
 cerns for themselves, and that the eftbrts of the 
 allies should be limited to preventing their in- 
 terference with other states, or extending their 
 conquests or propagandism beyond their own 
 front ier.l 
 
 But, though these were the views of the Eng- 
 
 * Ann. Reg-., xxxiv., 168, 178; and State Papers, No. 1. 
 
 t Memorial by Le Brun. Ann. Reg., xxxiv., 174. 
 
 i In this important state paper Lord Grenville observes : 
 "The two leading points on which such explanation will 
 naturally turn, are the line of conduct to be pursued previ- 
 ous to the commencement of hostilities, with a view, if pos- 
 sible, to avert them, and the nature and amount of the for- 
 ces which the powers engaged in tliis concert might be en- 
 abled to use, supposing such extremities unavoidable. With 
 respect to the first, it appears, on the whole, subject, how- 
 ever, to future consideration and discussion -with the other 
 powers, that the most advisable step to be taken would be, 
 th;it sufficient explanation should be had with the powere 
 at war with France, in order to enable those not hitherto 
 engaged in the war to propose to that countrj" terms of 
 peace. That these terms should be the withdrawing their 
 arms within the limits of the French territory, the aban- 
 doning their conquests, the rescinding any acts injurious to 
 the sovereignty or rights of any other nation, and the giving, 
 in some unequivocal manner, a pledge of their intention no 
 longer to foment troubles or to excite disturbances against 
 other governments. In return for these stipulations, the 
 different powers of Europe who should be parties to this 
 measure might engage to abandon all measures or vicwf 
 ofhostihty against France, or interference in theirinternal af- 
 fairs, and to maintain a correspondence and intercourse of 
 amity with the existing powers in that country toith whom 
 such a treaty may br cimctuded. If, on the result of this pro- 
 posal, so made by the powers acting m concert, these tei-ms 
 should not be accepted by France, or, being accepted, should 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 181 
 
 lish cabinet, very different ideas prevailed with 
 the rulers of French affairs. The determination 
 of the French government to spread their prin- 
 ciples of revolution in England was strongly 
 manifested in a circular letter addressed by 
 Monge, the minister of marine, to the inhab- 
 itants of the French seaports, on December 31, 
 1792, more than a month before the declaration 
 of wai". " The king and English Parliament," 
 said he, " wish to make war upon us ; but will 
 the English Republicans sulfur it"? Already 
 these I'reemen testily the repugnance which they 
 feel at bearing arms against their brethren the 
 French. We will Hy to their assistance ; we 
 will make a descent in that island; we will hurl 
 there 50,000 caps of liberty ; we will plant among 
 them tlie sacred tree, and hold out our arms to 
 our Piepublican brethren. The tyranny of their 
 government shall soon be destroyed." When 
 such was the language used by the French minis- 
 ters towards a people with whom they were still 
 at peace, the maintenance of any terms of accom- 
 modation was obviously out of the question, the 
 more especially when such sentiments met with 
 a responsiv^e \'oice from a numerous partj' on 
 this side of the Channel.* 
 
 After some time spent in the correspondence, 
 matters were brought to a crisis by 
 v.uii-uf' tbe e-YCcution of Louis, which took 
 place on January 21, 1 i9S. As 
 there was now no longer even the shadow of a 
 government in the French capital with whom to 
 maintain a diplomatic intercourse, M. Chauve- 
 lin received notice to leave the British domin- 
 ions within eight days, with a notification, how- 
 ever, that the English government would still 
 listen to terms of accommodation ; and on Feb- 
 ruaiy 3, the French Convention, on the report 
 of Brissot, unanimously declared war against 
 Great Britain.t 
 
 Such is a detailed account of the causes which 
 led to this great and universal war, which speed- 
 ily embraced all the quarters of tlie globe, con- 
 tinued, with short interruptions, for more than 
 twenty years, led to the occupation of all the 
 capitals in Europe by foreign armies, and final- 
 ly brought the Cossacks and Tartars to the 
 French metropolis. We shall search in vain, 
 in any former age of the world, for a contest 
 conducted on so gigantic a scale, or with such 
 general exasperation, in which such extraordi- 
 nary exertions were made by governments, or 
 such universal enthusiasm manifested by their 
 subjects. Almost all the European history fades 
 into insignificance when compared to the wars 
 which sprung out of the French Revolution, 
 and the conquests of Marlborough or Turenne 
 are lifeless when placed beside the campaigns 
 of Napoleon. 
 
 On coolly reviewing the events which led to 
 the rupture, it cannot be said that any of the Eu- 
 ropean powers were to blame in provoking it. 
 The French goveminent, even if they had pos- 
 
 Rot be satisfactorily perfaruied, the dift'eient powers might 
 then engasre themselves to esich other to enter into active 
 jneasures for the purpose of obtaining the ends in view ; 
 and it may be considered whether, in such case, they might 
 not reasonably look to ^ome indemnity for the expenses and 
 hazards to which Ihey wculd nece.ssanlv l)e exjiosed " Such 
 were the principles on which Englaiid'was willing to have 
 effected a general pacification in Enrope ; and it will ap- 
 pear in the sequel that these principles, and no otheis, were 
 constantly maintained by her through the whole contest, 
 ajid, in particular, that the restoration of the Bourbons was 
 never made or proposed as a condition of itb termination.— 
 See. Pari. Hist., xxx.v , 1313, 1314. 
 
 * Ann. Reg.. XKxiv., 179. t Ibid., xxxiv., 199. 
 
 sessed the inclination, had not the power to con- 
 trol their subjects, or prevent that communica- 
 tion with the discontented in other states, which 
 excited much alarm in their governments. The 
 Austrians and Prussians had good cause to 
 complain of the infringement of the treaty of 
 Westphalia, by the violent dispossessing of the 
 nobles and clergy in Alsace, and justly appre- 
 hended the utmost danger to themselves from the 
 doctrines which were disseminated in their do- 
 minions by the French emissaries. Though last 
 to abandon their system of neutrality, the Eng- 
 lish were ultimately drawn into the contest by 
 the alarming principles of foreign interference 
 AV'hich the Jacobins avowed after the 10th of Au- 
 gust, and the imminent danger in which Holland 
 was placed by the victorious advance of the 
 French armies to the banks of the Scheldt. 
 
 The principle of non-interference with the do- 
 mestic concerns of other states, perfectly just in 
 the general case, is necessarily subject to some 
 exceptions. No answer has ever been made to 
 the observation of Mr. Burke, " that if my neigh- 
 bour's house is in liames, and the fire is likely to 
 spread to my own, I am justified in interfering 
 to avert a disaster which promises to be equally 
 fatal to both." If foreign nations are warranted 
 in interposing in extreme cases of tyranny by 
 rulers to their subjects, the}' must be equally en- 
 titled to prevent excessive severity by a people 
 towards theii- .sovereign. The French, who so 
 warmly and justly supported the treaty of July 
 6, 1827, intended to rescue Greece from Ottoman 
 oppression, who took so active a part against 
 Great Britain in the contest with her Ameiican 
 colonies, and invaded the Netherlands and be- 
 sieged Antu'erp in 1832, professedly to preserve 
 the peace of Europe, have no right to complain 
 of the treaty of Pilnitz, which had for its object 
 to rescue the French king from the scaffold, and 
 the French nation from a tyranny which proved 
 worse to themselves than that of Constanti- 
 nople. 
 
 The grounds on which the war was rested by 
 the British government were afterward fully de- 
 veloped in an important declaration, issued to 
 the commanders of their forces by sea and land 
 on the 29th of October, 1793, shortly after the 
 execution of the queen. It was stated in that 
 noble state paper: " In place of the old govern- 
 ment has succeeded a system destructive of all 
 public order — maintained by proscriptions, ex- 
 iles, and confiscations without number — by arbi- 
 trary imprisonment, by massacres which cannot 
 be remembered without horror, and at length by 
 the execrable murder of a just and beneficent 
 sovereign, and of the illustrious princess, who, 
 with unshaken firmness, has shared all the mis- 
 fortunes of her royal consort, his protracted suf- 
 ferings, his cruel captivity, and ignominious 
 death. The allies have had to encounter acts 
 of aggression without pretext, open violation of 
 all treaties, unprovoked declarations of war ; in 
 a word, whatever corruption, intrigue, or vio- 
 lence could effect, for the purpose, openly avow- 
 ed, of subverting all the institutions of society, 
 and e.xtending over all the nations of Europe 
 that confusion which has produced the misery 
 of France. 
 
 " This state of tlungs cannot exist in France 
 without involving all the surrounding powers in 
 one common danger; without giving them the 
 right — without imposing it upon them as a duty, 
 to stop the progress of an evil which exists only 
 by the successive violation of all law and proper- 
 
182 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIU. 
 
 ty, and attacks the fundamental principles by 
 which mankind is united in the bonds of civil 
 society. The king will impose no other than 
 equitable and moderate conditions, not such as 
 the expense, the risk, and sacrifices of the war 
 might justify, but such as his majesty thinks 
 himself under the indispensable necessity of re- 
 quiring, with a view to these considerations, and 
 still more to that of his own security, and of the 
 future tranquillity of Europe. His majesty de- 
 sires nothing more sincerely than thus to termi- 
 nate a war which he in vain endeavoured to 
 avoid, and all the calamities of which, as now 
 experienced by France, are to be attributed only to 
 the ambition, the pei-fidy, and the violence of those 
 wliose crimes have involved their own country 
 in misery, and disgraced all civilized nations. 
 
 " The king promises, on his part, the suspen- 
 sion of hostilities, friendship, and, as far as the 
 course of events will allow, of which the will of 
 
 man caimot dispose, security and protection to 
 all those who, by declaring for a monarchical 
 form of government, shall shake off the yoke of 
 sanguinary anarchy — of that anarchy which has 
 broken all the most sacred bonds of society, dis- 
 solved all the relations of civil life, \aolated 
 every right, confounded every duty ; which uses 
 the name of liberty to exercise the most cruel 
 tyranny, to annihilate all property, seize on all 
 possessions ; which founds its power on the pre- 
 tended consent of the people, and itself carries 
 fire and sword tlirough extensive provinces for 
 having demanded their laws, their religion, and 
 then- lawful sovereign." This is real eloquence 
 — this is the true statement of the grounds of the 
 war, in language worthy of the great cause of 
 freedom to which the nation was thenceforward 
 committed, and which was never abandoned till 
 the British armies passed in triumph through tlie 
 walls of Paris.* 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CAMP.\IGN OF 
 
 1792. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 State of the Fiench Armies at the Commencement of the 
 War. — Of the Allies. — French Invasion of the Low Coun- 
 tries. — Its Defeat. — Consequent Consternation at Pans. — 
 AUied Annies collect on the Rhine. — Invasion of France 
 by the Duke of Brunswick. — His line of Advance. — Sur- 
 render of Longwy and Verdun. — Movements of Dumou- 
 rier. — Descnptiou of the Argonue Forest. — He seizes the 
 Passes before the Prussians.— Dilatory Motion of the Al- 
 lies. — Claiifait forces one of the Passes.— Dumouner falls 
 back to St. Menehould.— Rout of part of the French Anny 
 during the Retreat. — French take Post at St. Menehould. 
 — Union of their Armies there. — Consternation at Pans and 
 in their Rear. — Cannonade of Valmy. — French retain their 
 Position. — Distress of the Allies : they resolve to Retreat. 
 — Various Motives for this.— Terror at Pans. — Conferen- 
 ces opened for the Retreat of the Allies.— They commence 
 their Retreat, and regain the Rliine. — Operations in Flan- 
 ders.— Bombardment of I.iUe. — Raising of the Siege. — 
 Movements on the Upper Rhine. — Capture of Mayence by 
 Cusline. — Plans for the Invasion of Flanders. — Commen- 
 ced by Dumourier. — Battle of Jemappe. — Tardy Advance 
 of Dumourier. — Conquest of Flanders. — Jealousy of the 
 General at Paris. — Advance of the Republicans to the 
 Scheldt and Meuse. — Fall of Antwerp. — Of Liege and 
 Naraur. — Dumourier puts his Army into Winter Quar- 
 ters. — Violent Decree of the Convention, and great Revo- 
 lutionary Changes in Belgium.— Cruel Oppression of the 
 People of Flanders by the French. — War commenced 
 against Piedmont. — Compiest of Savoy and Nice. — Threat- 
 ened Invasion of Switzerland. — It is deferred. — Measures 
 to Revolutionize Savoy and Nice. — They are Incorporated 
 with France. — Conclusion of the Campaign on the Upper 
 Rhine. — Unsuccessful Operations of the Republicans ; 
 they Recross the Rhine. — Immense Results of this Cam- 
 paign. — Precipitance of the Allies. — Ruinous Consequen- 
 ces of the want of Vigour on their side at first.— Great 
 Danger of France at that time. — General Reflections on 
 the Campaign. 
 
 " Peace," says Segur, " is the dream of the 
 wise : war is the history of man. Youth listens 
 without attention to these who seek to lead it by 
 the paths of reason to happiness, and rushes 
 with irresistible violence into the arms of the 
 phantom which lures it by the light of glory 
 to destruction."* Reason, wisdom, experience, 
 striv^e in vain to subdue this propensity. For 
 reasons superior to the conclusions of philo.so- 
 phy, its lessons in this particular are unheeded 
 by'the generality of mankind; and whole gener- 
 ations, impelled by an irresistible impulse, fly to 
 their own destruction, and seek, in contending 
 
 Segur's Memoirs, ii., 59. 
 
 with their fellow-creatures, a vent for the ungov- 
 ernable passions of their natm'e. " To overawe 
 or intimidate," says Mr. Fergu.son, " and when 
 we cannot persuade with reason, to resist with 
 fortitude, are the occupations which give its 
 most animating exercise and its greatest tri- 
 umphs to a vigorous mind ; and he who has nev- 
 er struggled with his fellow-creatures is a stran- 
 ger to half the sentiments of mankind."t 
 
 But we should greatly err if we imagined that 
 this univer.sal and inextinguishable passion is 
 productive only of sutlering, and that, from the 
 work of mutual destruction, no benefit accrues 
 to the future generations of men. It is by these 
 tempests that the seeds of improvement are scat- 
 tered over the world : that the races of mankind 
 are mingled together, and the encrgj' of Northern 
 character blended with the refinement of South- 
 em civilization. It is amid the extremities and 
 dangers of war that antiquated prejudice is aban- 
 doned and new ideas disseminated ; that inven- 
 tion springs from necessity, and improvement is 
 stimuhiled by example ; and that, by the inter- 
 mixture of the ditferent races of men, the vices 
 and asperity of each are softened, and the benefits 
 of mutual communication extended. Rome con- 
 quered the world by her arms and humanized it 
 by her example : the Northern conquei'ors spread 
 amid the corruption of ancient civilization the 
 energy of barbarian valour; the Cru.sades diffu- 
 sed through tlie Western the knowledge and arts 
 of the Eastern World. The wai's which .sprung 
 out of the French Revolution produced effects 
 as gi'cat and benefits as lasting upon the human 
 species, and amid their bloody annals may be 
 discerned the rise of principles destined to change 
 the frame of society and purify the face of the 
 moral world. 
 
 France having decided upon war, directed the 
 formation of three considerable armies, state of the 
 In the north, the Marshal Rocham- French ar- 
 beau commanded forty thousand in- ""<^^- 
 fairtry and eight thousand cavalrj', cantoned from 
 Dunkirk to Phillipville. In the centre. La Fay- 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1793. State Pajiers, 199. Pari. Hist., xxx., 
 1597. t Ferguson, 39, Civil Society. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 183 
 
 ette was stationed with forty-five thousand in- 
 fantry and seven thousand cavalry, from Phillip- 
 ville to Lautre; while Marshal Luckner, with 
 thirty-live thousand infantry and eii,dit thousand 
 cavalry, observed the course of the Rhine from 
 Bale to Lauterburg. In the south. General 
 Montesquieu, with hity thousand men, was char- 
 ged with the defence of the line of the Pyrenees 
 and the course of the Rhone. But these armies 
 were formidable only on paper. The agitation 
 and license of the Revolution had loosened the 
 bands of discipline, and the habit of judging and 
 discussing political subjects destroyed the con- 
 fidence of the soldiers in their commanders. It 
 miglit have been foreseen, too, that, a.s soon as 
 the war became defensive, one half of this force 
 would be required to garrison the triple line of 
 fortresses which secured the course of the Rliine 
 from foreign aggression.* 
 
 The national enthusiasm, however, speedily 
 produced numerous recruits for the armies. The 
 villages, the hamlets, sent forth their little bands 
 of armed men to swell the forces on the frontier; 
 the roads were covered with battalions of the 
 National Guard, hastening to the scene of ac- 
 tion. But public .spirit will not supply the want 
 of militaiy orgcmization, nor courage make up 
 the deficiency of discipline. All the early efforts 
 of the P'rench armies were unsuccessful ; and, had 
 the allies been better prepared for the contest, or 
 even dul}^ improved ine advantages they obtain- 
 ed, the war might have been terminated in the 
 first campaign. t 
 
 To oppose the.se forces, the allies had no suf- 
 ficient armies ready; a sure proof that 
 Forces ^^^^ military operations contemplated in 
 the treaty of Pilnitz had been abandoned 
 by the contracting powers. Austria and Prussia 
 alone took the field; England was .still maintain- 
 ing a strict neutrality, and the forces of Russia, 
 let loose from the Danube after the treaty of 
 Jassy, were converging .slowly towards Poland, 
 the destined theatre of Muscovite ambition. 
 Spain and Piedmont remained at peace. Fifty 
 thousand Prussians were all that could be spared 
 for so distant an operation as the invasion of 
 France ; and the emperor, weakened by his 
 bloody contests with the Turks, could with diffi- 
 culty muster sixty-five thousand along the whole 
 line of the Rhine, from the Lake of Constance to 
 the Dutch frontier. The emigrant corjis, assem- 
 bled in the countries of Treves and Coblentz, and 
 in the margravate of Baden, hardly amounted to 
 .seven thousand men, ill fitted by their rank and 
 habits for the duties of private soldiers in a fa- 
 tiguing campaign, and they were not expected 
 on the Rhine till the end of July.t 
 
 Encouraged by the inconsiderable amount of 
 Frencli in- ''"^ Austrian forces in the Low Coun- 
 vasioii of tries, an invasion of Flanders was at- 
 the Low tempted by the French. The troops 
 Countries, -^-gj.^. divided into four columns, des- 
 tined to unite in the neighbourhood of Brussels, 
 and on the 28th of April put in motion; but in 
 every direction they encountered discomfiture 
 and disgrace. General Dillon, who advanced 
 from Lille with four thousand men, was met by 
 a detachment of the garrison of Tournay, and 
 before the Austrians had made a single dis- 
 charge, or even their cavalry had arrived in the 
 field, the French took to flight, murdered their 
 commander, and re-entered Lille in such confu- 
 
 * .)nm., ii., 3. Toul., ii., 119. Th., ii., 45, 46. 
 
 t Toul., ii., 121. Jom., ii., 4. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1791, 206. Jom., li., 4, 5. Tli., ii., 79. 
 
 sion as to endanger that important fortress. The 
 corps which advanced from Valenciennes, under 
 the orders of Biron, had no better success ; hard- 
 ly had the cannonade begun on the 29th with the 
 imperial troops, when two regiments of dragoons 
 fled, exclaiming, "Nous sommes trahis!" and 
 speedily drew after them the whole infantry. On 
 the following day they were attacked 
 by the Austrians unde'r Beaulieu, and Je'feat'"d 
 on the first onset lied to Valenciennes, *^ ^ ' 
 exclaiming that they were betrayed, and were 
 only rallied by Rochambeau, with the utmost 
 difficulty, behind the Ruelle. The corps des- 
 tined to advance from Dunkirk to Furnes fell 
 back upon hearing of these disasters, and Gen- 
 eral La Fayette judged it prudent to suspend the 
 movement of liis whole army, and to retire to 
 his camp at Rancennes.* 
 
 Such were the fruits of the insubordination and 
 license which had prevailed in the French ar- 
 mies ever since they revolted against their sov- 
 ereign: a memorable example to succeeding 
 ages of the extreme peril of soldiers taking upon 
 them the task of politicians, and forgetting tlieir 
 military honour in the fancied discharge of so- 
 cial duties. The revolt of the French Guards, 
 the immediate cause of the overthrow of Louis, 
 brought France to the brink of destruction; with 
 a more enterprising or better prepared enemy, the 
 demoralization produced by the first defeats on 
 the frontier would have jiroved fatal to the na- 
 tional independence.t Had Napoleon or Wel- 
 lington commanded the Austrians in Flanders, 
 the French never would have been permitted to 
 rejoin their colours ; and if the allies had been 
 aware of the wretched state of their opponents, 
 they would have advanced without hesitation to 
 Paris. No reliance can be placed on troops, 
 once the most effective, who have engaged in a 
 revolution, till their discipline has been restored 
 by despotic authority. 
 
 The extreme facility with which this invasion 
 of Flanders was repelled, and the disgraceful 
 rout of the French fi)rces, produced an extraor- 
 dinaiy effect in Europe. The Prussians con- 
 ceived the utmost contempt for their new oppo- 
 nents, and it is curious to recur to the sentiments 
 expressed by them at the commencement of the 
 war. The militaiy men at Magdeburg deemed 
 the troops of France nothing but an undisciplined 
 rabble: " Do not buy too many horses," said the 
 minister Bischolfswerder to several officers of 
 rank; "the comedy will not last long; the anny 
 of lawyers will soon be annihilated in Belgium, 
 and we shall be on our road home in autumn."t 
 The Jacobins and war party in Paris, though 
 extremely disconcerted by the disgrace Constema- 
 of their arms, had the address to tion in con- 
 conceal their apprehensions. They sequence at 
 launched forth the thunders of their P'"''*- 
 indignation against the authors of the disasters. 
 Luckner was appointed to succeed Rochambeau, 
 who was dismissed, and tribunals were created 
 for the trial of offences against military disci- 
 pline. The most energetic measures were taken 
 to re-enforce the armies, and revive the national 
 spirit, which the recent disasters had much de- 
 pressed ; and Luckner received orders to resume 
 oflfensive operations.! 
 
 Feeble and irresolute, this old commander was 
 ill qualified to restore the confidence of the anny. 
 
 * Jom., ii., 16, 17. Th., li., 78, 711, 80. St. Cyr, i., 47, 
 48. Introduction. Toul., ii., 121. t Jom., ii., 17. 
 
 t Hard., i., 357. St. Cyr., i.. 50, Introd. 
 I) Jom., ii., 19, 21. Th., ii., 80. Toul., ii., 125. 
 
184 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIII. 
 
 His first operations were as unsuccessful as those 
 of his predecessor, and he was obliged, after re- 
 ceiving a severe check, to retire in haste to his 
 own frontier. At the same time, the advanced 
 guard ot La Fayette was surprised and defeated 
 near Maubeuge, and his numerous army thrown 
 into a state of complete discouragement. At that 
 period it seemed as if the operations of the 
 Jb'rench generals M-ere dependant upon the ab- 
 sence of their enemies : the moment they appear- 
 ed they were precipitately abandoned.* 
 
 Meanwhile the Austrian and Prussian forces 
 Allied armies were sUjwlv collecting on the fron- 
 collect oil Uie lier. Tiie disgraceful tumult on the 
 frontiers. yUth of June accelerated their move- 
 ments, and M. Calonne incessantly urged the al- 
 lied sovereigns to advance with rapidity, as the 
 only means of extricating Louis from his peril- 
 ous situation. The Prussians assembled in the 
 neighbourliood of Cobientz in the middle of 
 June: the disciplined skill of the troops, trained 
 in the school of Potsdam, and the martial air of 
 the Austrians, recently returned from tiie Turk- 
 ish campaigns, seemed to promise an easy victory 
 over the tumult nary levies of France.t The dis- 
 organization and discouragement of the French 
 armies had arrived at the highest pitch before 
 the invasion commenced, and Frederic William 
 reckoned at least as much on the feebleness of 
 their defence as on the magnitude of his own 
 forces. 
 
 The Duke of Brunswick, who was intrusted 
 with the command of the army, and first took the 
 lead among the generals who combated the 
 French Revolution, was a man of no ordinary 
 capacitv. Born in 1735, he was the son of Duke 
 Charles of Brunswick, and hiswite the sister of 
 Frederic II. of Prussia. Early in life he evinced 
 an extraordinary aptitude for the acquisition of 
 knowledge : unhappily, the habits of the dissolute 
 court where he was brought up initiated him as 
 rapidlv into the vices and pleasures of corrupted 
 life. During the Seven Years' War he was call- 
 ed to more "animating duties, and became the 
 companion in arms and friend of the great Fred- 
 eric ; but the return of peace restored him to in- 
 acti^at}', mistresses, and pleasure. The volup- 
 tuous habits which his marriage, in 1764, to the 
 Princess Augu.sta, sister of George III., king of 
 England, did not diminish, had no tendency, how- 
 ever, to extinguisli the native vigour of his mind. 
 His conversation was brilliant, his knowledge 
 immense, his ideas clear, and delivered with the 
 utmost perspicuity; but, although the vivacity 
 of his imagination made him rapidly perceive 
 the truth, and anticipate all the objections which 
 could be urged against his opinions, it had the 
 effect of rendering him irresolute in conduct, and 
 perpetually the prey of apprehensions lest his 
 reputation should be endangered: a peculiarity 
 frequentlv observable in first-rate men of the 
 second order, but never seen in the master spir- 
 its of mankind.! 
 
 Jealous of his military reputation, of the char- 
 acter whir-h he had acquired "f being, after the 
 death of Frederic the Great, the ablest prince in 
 Germanv, he was unwilling to hazard both by en- 
 gaging in the contest with revolutionary France, 
 the perils of which he distinctly perceived. Nor 
 were personal motives wanting to confirm him 
 in this opinion. Previous to tlie commencement 
 of hostilities, Abb^ Sieyes, and the party of phi- 
 
 * Th., li., 80. Jom., ii., 22, 23. 
 
 t Tout., II., 211. Jom., ii., 85. St. Cyr., i., 62, Introd. 
 
 t Mirabeau, Cour de Berlin, i., 231. Hard., i., 347, 351. 
 
 losophers in that countrj^, had cast their eyes on 
 this prince as the chief most capable of directing 
 the Revolution, and at the same time disarming 
 the hostility of Prussia, and they had even en- 
 tered into secret negotiations with him on that 
 subject. It may easily be imagined with what 
 reluctance the iluke entered upon a course of 
 hostilities which at once interrupted such an un- 
 derstanding, and possibly deprived him of the 
 brilliant hope that he might one day be called to 
 the throne of the Bourbons. Imj)ressed with 
 these ideas, he addressed a secret memoir to the 
 King of Prussia, lull of just and equitable views, 
 on the course to be pursued in the approaching 
 invasion, which it would have been well for the 
 allies if they had strictly adhered to during the 
 campaign. *t 
 
 In the views entertained at this period by the 
 Prussian cabinet and the Duke of Brunswick, is 
 to be found the true secret of the disasters of the 
 campaign, and one powerful cause of the subse- 
 quent calamities which befell every part of Eu- 
 rope. The former were intent on iniquitous 
 gains in Poland, and took the lead in the coa- 
 lition in France, chiefly in order to gratity the 
 wishes of the Empress Catharine, who was the 
 head of the league for effecting the partition of 
 that ill-fated country, and at the same time ve- 
 hemently desirous of extinguishing the princi- 
 ples of the Revolution. The latter was appre- 
 hensive lest his great reputation, which rested 
 on no permanent or illustrious actions, should 
 be endangered, and his secret views in France 
 blasted by too intemperate an hostility against 
 that country. Thus both the government and 
 the generalissimo were prepared to play false 
 before they entered upon the campaign : they in- 
 tended only to make a show of hostility on the 
 Rhine, sufficient to propitiate the Semiramis of 
 the North, and incline her to allow them as large 
 a share as possible of the contemplated booty on 
 the Vistula. Frederic William, indeed, was sin- 
 cere in his desire to deliver the King of France 
 and re-establish monarchical authority in his do- 
 minions; but, surrounded by ministers who had 
 different objects in view, he was unable to act 
 with the energy requisite to ensure success, nor 
 was he aware of the difficulties to be encounter- 
 ed in its prosecution. The Duke of Branswick 
 alone was adequately impressed with the serious 
 dangers which attended the jjroposed invasion, 
 and in his memoir, already mentioned, strongly 
 urged the necessity of " immediate and decisive 
 operations, the more so as, without them, conse- 
 quences of incalculable importance may ensue; 
 lor the French are in such a state of efferves- 
 cence, that, if not defeated in the outset, they 
 may become capable of the most extraordinary 
 resolutions."! 
 
 Dumourier, minister of foreign affairs at Par- 
 
 * Hard., i., 349, 353. 
 
 t *■ Yu'j will understand better than I what an important 
 effect the disposition of the interior of France must have on 
 the operations of the campaig-n. It would lie well to address 
 a proclamation to the National Guards, announcing that we 
 do not make war on the nation, that we have no intention 
 of abridgius their libcities, that we do not desire to over- 
 turn their constitution, but that we in.sist only for repara- 
 tion to the German princes dispossessed in Alsace. That 
 alTair of the indemnities will occasion the greatest embar- 
 rassment, if we cannot prevail on the emperor to ffive his 
 consent to the changes which are commencing in Poland. 
 For my own part, I give to acquisitions in Poland a decided 
 pieforence lo any that may be acquired in France ; for hy 
 any attempt at territorial a<5^raudizcment in that country, 
 the whole spirit in which ilio war should tie conducted will 
 be changed."— -Mem. I'Jth Feb., 1792— Hap.d., i., 353. 
 
 t Hard., i., 353, 357. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 135 
 
 is, aware that Austria was totally unprepared 
 I'or a war in the Low Countries, and strongly 
 impressed with the idea that the real object of 
 France should be to wrest these opulent provin- 
 ■ces from the house of Hapsburg, counselled an 
 immediate advance into Flanders, while at the 
 same time, by incans of secret agents, he pre- 
 pared the minds of the discontented, both in that 
 countr}^ and in Piedmont, to second the invasion 
 of the Republicans. Aware of the intrigues 
 which M. SemonviUe, the French envoy, was 
 carrying lorward, the King of Sardinia refused 
 to permit him to advance beyond Alexandi-ia. 
 Dumourier afiected the utmost indignation at 
 this slight put upon " the great nation" in the 
 person of its plenipotentiary ; but tlie cabinet of 
 Turin remained firm, and refused either to ad- 
 mit M. SemonviUe to. the court, or make any 
 submission to the indignant feelings of the Re- 
 publicans.* 
 
 Alter nuich deliberation, it was resolved to at- 
 tempt the invasion by the plains of Champagne, 
 the same quarter where an irruption was after- 
 ward successfully achieved by the allies in 1814. 
 Great dilTiculties were experienced in regard to 
 the corps of emigrants, which, from the want of 
 any aid eitiier from Pnissia or Austria, had not 
 yei attained any consistent military organiza- 
 tion ; as, on the one hantl, the allies were appre- 
 hensive of exciting the nation by the sight ot an 
 armed invasion of the emigrant noblesse, while, 
 on the other, the influence of those illustrious 
 exiles, especially with the Northern courts, ren- 
 dered it an imprudent measure to give them any 
 serious ground of complaint. At length a mid- 
 dle course was resolved on, to join the emigrant 
 corps to the ami)', but keep it in reserve with the 
 second line : a resolution which, how unhappy 
 soever, was rendered unavoidable by the arrival 
 of a (!0urier from St. Petersburg, bringing des- 
 patches, containing not only the entire concur- 
 rence of the Empress Catharine in the proposed 
 hostile operation, but her resolution not to per- 
 mit any cliange in the form of government in 
 any European state : a declaration which,f un- 
 der the veil of a general principle not likely to 
 M 3 l"92 ^'^ disputed in despotic courts, con- 
 ^^ ' ' ■ cealed her secret design to make the 
 recent changes in the Polish Constitution a pre- 
 text for completing the partition of the Sarina- 
 tian plains. 
 
 The pai litioning powers at length spoke open- 
 ly out. On the 8th of June, Frederic William, 
 in concert with the Empress Catharine, replied 
 to the King of Poland that he entirely disap- 
 
 g roved of tlie revolution so lately effected in the 
 oJish dominions, and that nothing but an im- 
 mediate invasion by the Russian and Prussian 
 forces could be anticipated from such a step, 
 taken without their concurrence. At the same 
 time, twenty-five thousand men, under Marshal 
 Moellendorf, received orders to advance towards 
 Warsaw. Thus, at the time when a cordial al- 
 liance of all the European powers was impera- 
 tively called for to stem the ton-ent of the French 
 Revolution, the seeds of weakness and disunion 
 were already sown, from their unjustifiable pro- 
 jects of aggrandizement on the shores of the Vis- 
 tula.: 
 
 Meanwhile the King of France, not venturing 
 openly to coiiununicate Avith the allied sov- 
 reigns, despatched a secret envoy to Vienna 
 
 * Hard., i., 3'>7, 369. 
 t }Iar(l., 1., 383, 360. 
 
 Vol. I.— a X 
 
 i Hard,, j., 369,383. 
 
 with letters to Marshal Castries, whom he had 
 selected to communicate between him and the 
 exiled princes, containing the wisest and most 
 salutary advice on the conduct to be pursued by 
 the invading powers.* These instructions were 
 received, and deliberately considered by the al- 
 lied cabinets. They were strongly impressed 
 at the time with the justice of his views, and 
 gave the most solemn assurances to the 
 envoy. Mallet du Pan, that their meas- ^^ "' 
 ures should be entirely regulated by them ; but 
 the advice was Ibrgotten almost as soon as it 
 was received, and the more intemperate wishes 
 of the exiled princes subsequently gained too 
 great an ascendency over the measures of the 
 coalition.t 
 
 On the 25th July the King of Prussia joined 
 the army, and on the same day the proc- 
 lamation was issued, which" has been ^'^ ^^^ 
 already given in the civil history of France, and 
 which had so powerful an etlect in exciting the 
 patriotism and healing the divisions of the French 
 people. This proclamation, though signed bv 
 the Duke of Brunswick, was drawn up by M. 
 Calonne and the Marquis Lemon, in more vio- 
 lent terms than was origmally intended, or than 
 was consistent with the objects of the war, as set 
 forth in the previous official declaration of the 
 Prussian cabinet,: in consequence of the intelli- 
 gence which the allied powers had received of 
 the secret ofiers made to the duke by the Constitu- 
 tional party in France, and the necessity which 
 they thence conceived there was of committing 
 him irrevocably against the Revolution. The 
 objeclionjible passages were introduced against 
 his will by the direct authority of the emperor 
 and King of Prussia ; and so strongly impressed 
 was the Duke of Brunswick with the unhappy 
 consequences likely to arise from the publication 
 of such a manifesto, that he tore to pieces the first 
 copy brought to him for his signature, and ever 
 
 * "The safety of the monarchy," said Louis, "that of 
 the king and his family, the general security of persons and 
 property, the stability of the order which may eventually 
 succee<l to the present confusion, the urgent necessity of 
 abridging the duration of the crisis, and weakening the agi- 
 tating powers — all concur in recommending the views of 
 his majesty to all true Royalists. He fears, with reason, 
 that a foreign invasion will induce a civil war in the inte- 
 rior, or, rather, a frightful Jacquerie ; that is the object of his 
 greatest apprehension. He ardently desires, in order to 
 prevent the calamities, of which you appear to discard too 
 lightly the consideration, that the emigrants should take no 
 part in the approaching hostilities ; that they should con- 
 sult the interests of the king, of the state, of their proper- 
 ties, and of all the Royalists in the interior, rather than 
 their just resentment ; and that, after having disarmed crime 
 by their victories, and dissolved a fanatical league by de- 
 priving it of its means of resistance, they may, by a salu- 
 tary revolution, prepare the way for a treaty of peace, in 
 which the king and the f ireign powers may be the arbiters 
 of the destinies and laws of the nation." — Instructions oj 
 Louis XVI to Due tie Castries — Hard., i., 402, 404. 
 f Hard., i., 402,421. 
 
 + " There is no power," said the Prussian manifesto, " in- 
 terested in the balance of power in Europe, which can behold 
 with unconcern that great kingdom become a prey to anar- 
 chical horrors, which have in a manner annihilated its politi- 
 cal existence ;* there is no true Frenchman who must not 
 desire to see such disorders terminated. To put a period to 
 the anarchy iu France, to establish with that view legal 
 power on the base of monarchical authority, to secure by this 
 means the other powers from the incendiary efforts of a fran- 
 tic Jacobin band — such are the objects which the king, in 
 conjunction with his ally, proposes to himself m this noble 
 enterprise, not only with the general concurrence of the 
 powers of Europe, who recognise its justice and necessity, 
 but with the approliation and well-wishes of every friend to 
 the human race."— Hard., i., 425, 426. 
 
 » Mr. Burke ivas of the same npinion. " We may regard France." said 
 he. **as tiiiw nmr'y hlnttcd out frnni the polilica] map of Europe." — 
 Speech m llouit. of Comnumt, ilh Fit., 1790— Works, v., 5, 6. 
 
186 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIIl. 
 
 after called it " that deplorable manifesto." Cer- 
 tain it is, that, if issued at all, it should only have 
 been at the gates of Paris, and after decisive suc- 
 cess in the held ; and that to publish it at the out- 
 set merely of feeble and languid military opera- 
 tions was" the height of imprudence.* 
 
 On the 30th, the whole army broke up and 
 Invasiou entered the French territory. The allied 
 of France, army consisted of hfty thousand Prus- 
 July 30, sians in the finest condition, and sup- 
 1792. ported by an unusually large train both 
 
 of heavy and field artillery ; forty-five thousand 
 Austrians, the greater part of whom were veter- 
 ans from the Turkish wars ; ten thousand Hes- 
 .sians, and upward of six thousand French emi- 
 grants, dispersed by a most injudicious arrange- 
 ment into separate "corps. In all, a hundred and 
 thirteen thousand men : a formidable army, both 
 from its numerical force and its wai'like quali- 
 ties, but hardly adequate to so gi'eat an underta- 
 king as that of conquering France.t 
 
 The French armies destined to oppose this in- 
 vasion were by no means equal, either in disci- 
 pline or equipment, to their antagonists; and 
 they were soon paralyzed by intestine divisions. 
 The army of La Fayette, now not more than 
 twenty-eight thousand strong, was posted in the 
 neighbourhood of Sedan ; Bournonville between 
 Maubeuge and Lille, with thirty thousand ; Kel- 
 lerman, with twenty thousand, at Metz ; Custine 
 at Landau, with fifteen thousand ; and Biron in 
 Alsace, with thirty thousand— in all, a hundred 
 and twentv-three thousand men, but extremely 
 defective both in discipline and subordination. 
 Above twelve thousand of their officers had 
 joined the ranks of the emigrants, and those se- 
 lected to supply their place had as yet no experi- 
 ence in the military art. But the revolution of 
 the 10th of August "changed the command of the 
 armies, and ultimately proved fatal to the allies, 
 not less from the energy which it imparted to the 
 government, than the ability which it brought to 
 the head of military affairs. La Fayette, having 
 in vain endeavoured to raise the standard of re- 
 volt against the Jacobins, was compelled to fly 
 for safety to the Austrian lines ; and Luckner 
 having disobeyed the convention, the command 
 of both their armies was intrusted to Dumourier ; 
 a man whose ardent spii-it, indefatigable activity, 
 and boundless resources were peculiarly fitted 
 to rescue France from the perilous situation in 
 which it was placedj 
 
 A triple barrier defends France from invasion 
 Line of on its eastern frontier. The centre of 
 advance this line, where an attack was threaten- 
 adopted by ed from the allied forces, is covered by 
 the allies. TMonville, Bitsch, Sarre Louis, Long- 
 wy, and Montmedy in front, and Metz, Verdun, 
 Sedan, and Mezieres in the rear ; M'hile the woody 
 heights of the Ardennes forest, occupying a space 
 of fifteen leagues between Verdun and Sedan, 
 ofifers the most serious obstacles to the passage 
 of an army. It was by this liae that the allies 
 resolved to invade France ; as it was tlien sup- 
 posed, what experience has since proved to be 
 true, that a force of not less than two hundred 
 and fifty thousand men would be requisite to 
 make a successful irruption from the side of 
 Switzerland or Flanders. Everything seemed 
 to announce success, and tended to recommend 
 
 *Hard.,)., 427,432. 
 
 t Compare .rom., ii., 4 ; and Toul., ii., 266. Ann. Reg-., 
 XXXV., 45. .lom., ii., 86, 87 ; and Hard., i. 
 tJom., i., 104. Th. iii., 37, 39. St. Cyr, i., 39. 
 
 the most vigorous measures in seizing it. The 
 French armies, scattered over an immense line, 
 from the Alps to the ocean, were incapable of 
 uniting for any common operation ; and their 
 state of disorganization was such as to render it 
 extremely doubtful whether they were either dis- 
 posed or qualified to combine for efiecting it.* 
 
 Three fortresses only lay on their road, Se- 
 dan, Longwy, and Verdun, all in a wretched 
 state of defence ; after which, the army had 
 nothing but a lertile plain to traverse on the road 
 to Paris. In these circumstances, a powerful 
 and rapid attack on the centre seemed the most 
 prudent, as well as the most effectual means of 
 dispersing the forces of the Revolution, and 
 reaching the heart of their power before any 
 effective array could be collected for its defence. 
 There can be no question of the wisdom of the 
 plan of operations ; but the allies were grievous- 
 ly mistaken in the degree of vigour required for 
 carrying it into execution.t 
 
 The invading army advanced with slowness 
 and apparent timidity in a country which they 
 professed to consider as the theatre of certain 
 conquest. At length, after an inexplicable de- 
 lay, the fortress of Longwy was invested on the 
 20th of August ; and a bombardment having been 
 
 immediatelv commenced, the garrison. 
 
 Longyvy 
 
 who were partly composed of volun- surren- 
 teers, and divided in opmion, capitu- Jers, 
 lated on the 23d. At the same time, -'^"s- 23- 
 intelligence was received of the flight of La Fa)-- 
 ette from the army which he commanded, and 
 that he had sought refuge from the violence of his 
 soldiers within the Austrian lines. Eveiything 
 seemed to announce success ; and if the Duke of 
 Brunswick, taking advantage of the consterna- 
 tion of the moment, had fallen with the bulk of 
 his forces upon the army romid Sedan, now des- 
 titute of a commander, there can be no doubt that 
 a blow might have been struck which would have 
 spread such consternation among the Revolution- 
 ary party as would have led to the rapid termi- 
 nation of the war. Instead of doing so, however, 
 the allied army, following the preconcerted plan 
 of operation, advanced on the great road, and, 
 after an unaccountable delay of six days around 
 Longwy, moved forward on the 29th, and on the 
 30th invested Verdun. On the 2d of ^ndVer- 
 September, this important fortress ca- dim. 
 pitulated after a feeble resistance ; and •'»ept. 2. 
 there now remained no fortified place in a state 
 of defence on the road to Paris.t§ 
 
 After such extraordinary and unhoped-for 
 good fortune as the capitulation of the only for- 
 tresses which lay on their road, after an invest- 
 ment of a few days each, it was difficult to ac- 
 count either for the present inactivity or ultimate 
 disasters of the allied army. The army round 
 Sedan, now under the command of Dumourier, 
 did not exceed 25,000 men, little more than a 
 fourth part of the Duke of Brunswick's force; 
 and yet the other armies were so far distant, that 
 on it almost exclttsively depended the salvation of 
 
 * Jom., ii., 86. Toul., ii., 295. 
 
 t. Tom., i., 90, 91. T.4., iii., 40. 
 
 t Th., lii., 42, 98. Jom., i., 101, 102. 
 
 il In the course of the march, the King of Prussia met a 
 young: soldier with his kuiipsack on his back and an old 
 i^msket in hi.s hands. "Where are you froing?" said the 
 king. " To fi?lit," replied the soldier. " liy that answer," 
 replied the monarch, "I recognise the noblesse of France." 
 He saluted him, and passed on. The soldier's name has since 
 become immortal ; it was Fr.vvcois Ciiateaubrianp, then 
 returning from his travels in North America to share in the 
 dangers of the throne in his native country. — See CHATEAU- 
 BRIAND, Memoirs, 83, Fragments. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 187 
 
 France.* But the dilatory conduct of the allies, 
 joined to the enterprise and genius of Dumou- 
 rier, paralyzed all these advantages. Nothing 
 could rouse the Duke of Brunswick from his 
 dilatoiy system, not even the urgent representa- 
 tions of the King of Pru.ssia, who longed for de- 
 cisive operations.t 
 
 Everything depended upon the immediate oc- 
 cupation of tlie defiles of the Ardennes forest, 
 the only remaining barrier between a ^-ictorious 
 army of eighty thousand men and the capital. 
 These wooded heights were only six leagues in 
 advance of the allies, and it was of the last im- 
 portance to reach them before the enemy; for 
 if once the war was carried into the plains be- 
 yond, there was little hope that the ill-disciplined 
 troops of France would be able to withstand the 
 numerous and highly-disciplined cavalr}"- of the 
 Prussians. The eagle eye of Dumourier speedi- 
 ly pitched on the sole defensible point, and, pla- 
 cing his hand on the Argonne forest in the map, 
 " There," said he, " is the Thermopylae of 
 France: if I have the good fortune to arrive 
 there before the Prussians, all is saved." His 
 determination was instantly taken -,1 but it ap- 
 pears that the movement to the Argonne forest 
 had been previously recommended by the exec- 
 utive council of Paris, and that he had only de- 
 layed executing it from an opinion that the al- 
 lies would be detained several weeks belbre 
 Longwy and Verdun, and that the best way of 
 arresting their march was to threaten an inva- 
 sion of the Low Cotmtries. 
 
 The forest of Argonne is a wooded ridge, ex- 
 Description of tending from the neighbourhood of 
 the Arguime Sedan, in a southwesterly direction, 
 Forest. about thirteen leagues. Its breadth 
 
 varies from one to four leagues. Five roads 
 traverse it, leading into the rich and fertile dis- 
 tricts of Eveches from the open and sandy plains 
 of Champagne. The great road to Paris goes 
 by the pass of Islettes: the other pas.ses were 
 named Grandpre, Chene Populeux, Croix au 
 Bois, and Chalade. These roads required to be 
 occupied and guarded before they were reached 
 by the enemy : a perilous operation, as it involv- 
 ed a flank movement directly in front of a vast- 
 ly superior hostile army. The ruinous eflect of 
 the delay round Longwy, after the fall of that 
 tbrtress, was now apparent : had the allied for- 
 ces moved on, instead of there waiting a week 
 in inactivity, the war would have been carried 
 
 * T(.ul., li., 297, 298. Dum., ii., 387. Th., iii., 43. 
 
 t The advantiiges which lay open to the invading anny at 
 this juncture are thus set forth by the person of all others 
 best qualified to appreciate them — General Dumourier. 
 "How did it happen," says he, "that, after the fall of 
 Lon;pivy on the 23d of August, the enemy did not instantly 
 resolve to march on Stenay and Monzow, and there annihi- 
 late the French army, or draw over the troops of the line to 
 their side, in the perplexity in which they were after the 
 dethronement of the king 1 Nothing is more certain than 
 that, if they ha^l dune so, the French army would have dis- 
 banded ; nay, there is reason to believe that, if some of the 
 popular oflicers of the old regime had presented themselves 
 at tile advanced posts, a great part of the troops of the line, 
 especitiUy the cavalry, would have joined the allied army. 
 
 " When you are about to invade a country torn by a revo- 
 lution, when you know that you may rely on a large party 
 in its bosom, when you would delTver a king in fettei's, it 
 .should be a fi.\ed principle, especially with a large army, to 
 multiply your forces by a rapidity of movement, and arrive 
 like a clap of thunder at the capital, without giving the peo- 
 ple time to recover from their consternation. After Longwy 
 was taken, if the army at Sedan had been dispersed, no ob- 
 stacles remained either to the prosecution of a methodical 
 campaign, or an immediate march to Paris." — DuMouiiiER, 
 ni., 32. 
 
 X Dum., ii., 391. Th., iii., 88, 89. Toul., ii., 299. 
 
 into the plains of Champagne, and the broken 
 ground passed before the French army could 
 possibly have arrived. * 
 
 Clairfait, with the advanced guard of th^ al- 
 lies, was, on the 30th of August, onlv r-,,, 
 
 • 1 f T 1 »t .u ' ■ ? Dumourier 
 
 SIX leagues trom Islettes, the prmci- seizes the 
 
 pal passage through the forest of Ar- passes of the 
 goime ; while the nearest posts of the forest. 
 French, commanded by Dillon, were distant ten 
 leagues, and the nearest road to reach it lay di- 
 rectly in front of the Austrian vanguard. De- 
 termined, however, at all hazards, to gain the 
 pas.ses, Dumourier, on the 31st, took the bold 
 resolution of pushing on directly across the Aus- 
 trian vanguard. This resolution was entirely 
 successful : the Austrians, ignorant of his de- 
 signs, and intent only on covering the siege of 
 Verdun, which was going forward, withdrew 
 their advanced posts, and allowed the French to 
 pass ; and from the 1st to the 4th of September 
 the whole army defiled within sight almost of 
 their videttes, and occupied the passes ; Dumou- 
 rier him.self taking his station at Grandpre, near 
 the centre, with thirteen thousand men. He im- 
 mediately fortified the position, and awaited in 
 tranquillity the re-enforcements which he expect- 
 ed from the interior, the army of the centre, and 
 that of the north. They were very considerable, 
 for Bournonville and Duval were hastening from 
 the army of Flanders with sixteen thousand men; 
 while Kellennan, with twenty-two thousand, was 
 expected in a few days from the neighbourhood 
 of Metz. Large bodies were also advancing 
 from Paris, where the Republican government 
 was taking the most energetic measures for the 
 public defence. Camps for the recruits were 
 formed at Soissons, Meaux, Rheims, and Cha- 
 lons, where numerous volunteers were daily ar- 
 riving, animated vnih. the greatest enthusiasm; 
 while the sanguinary despots of Paris marched 
 off thousands of citizens, reeking with the blood 
 of the massacres in the prisons, to more honour- 
 able combats on the frontier. The whole re-en- 
 forcements from the interior were ordered to as- 
 semble at St. Menehould, a little in the rear of 
 the position of the army. The camp of the 
 French general himself at Grandpre was one of 
 uncommon strength. A succession of heights, 
 placed in the form of an amphitheatre, foiTned 
 the ground on which the army was placed: at 
 their feet vast meadows stretched forth, in the 
 midst of which the Aisne flowed in a deep .stream, 
 forming a valuable cover to the front of the camp. 
 Two bridges only were thrown over the river, 
 each of which was guarded by a strong advanced 
 body. The enemy would thus be under the ne- 
 cessit}^ of crossing the Aisne without the aid of 
 bridges, traversing a wide extent of meadow, un- 
 der the concentric fire of numerous batteries, and 
 finally scaling a rugged ridge broken by woods, 
 strengthened by intrenchments, and almost inac- 
 cessible. Confident in the strength of this posi- 
 tion, Dumourier wrote to the minister of war in 
 these terms: " Verdun is taken : I am in hourly 
 expectation of the Prussians: the camp at Grand- 
 pre and Islettes are the Thermopyla? of France ; 
 but I shall be more successful than Leonidas."t 
 "While these energetic measures were going for- 
 ward on the French side, the steps of Dilatorymo- 
 the allies, notwithstanding their ex- tions of the 
 traordinar}' good fortune, were mark- ^'^'•^^■ 
 ed by that indecision which, in a war of inva- 
 
 * .torn., ii., 109. Toul., ii.. 300. Th.. iii., 90. 
 t Dum., ii., 394, 396 ; iii., 2. Toul., ii., 301. Jom., ii., 
 110, HI. Th., ii., 93, 94. St. Cyr, i., 66, Introd. 
 
188 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIII. 
 
 sion, is the sure forerunner of defeat. It was 
 evident, from the position of the French army, 
 and the numerous re-enforcements hastening to 
 them from every quarter, that everything depend- 
 ed upon forcing the ])asses, and throwing them 
 into confusion betbre their forces were augment- 
 ed, or the moral energy acquired, which, in war, 
 is even more important than numerical strength. 
 Instead of this, their movements were unaccount- 
 ably tardy, as if they wished to give the French 
 time to collect their forces before any decisive 
 operations were commenced. Though Verdun 
 capitulated on the 2d of September, the army did 
 not advance till the 5th, when it remained in po- 
 sition on the heights of Fromerville till the 11th, 
 wasting in inactivity the most precious days of 
 the campaign. At length, being informed of the 
 occupation of the passes by Dumourier, and 
 having completed his preparations, the Duke of 
 Bnmswick, on the l"2th, moved a part of his 
 forces to Landres, and remained there in perfect 
 inactivity till the ITth, threatening the left of the 
 French position.* 
 
 To oppose this movement, Dumourier Avith- 
 Clairfait seiz- drew a considerable part of the forces 
 es the pass of which Occupied the pass of Croix au 
 Croix au Bois. ggis, one of the five which traversed 
 the forest of Argomie, and was situated on the 
 right of the line, to support the left, where an at- 
 tack was anticipated. The consequence was, 
 that on the 12th, Clairfait established himself in 
 that important post, and thus broke the French 
 line, and threatened to take it in rear. Sensible 
 of his error, the French general detached General 
 Chazot to retake the position; but Clairfait not 
 only maintained his ground, but threw back his 
 opponents from the central corps of the army, 
 and entirely turned the right of the French posi 
 
 promised to raise it to seventy thousand combat- 
 ants.* 
 
 During the retreat, however, an incident oc- 
 curred which had wellnigh brought ji„ut of part 
 destruction on the whole army. Gen- of the French 
 eral Chazot, who commanded the ^r^y- 
 rear-guard of ten thousand men, was attacked 
 at Vaux by fifteen hundred Pruii^ian hussars 
 and four pieces of horse artillery. The French 
 troops instantly took to tlight, "disbanded them- 
 selves, rushed through the main body in the 
 utmost confusion, and numbers fled as far as 
 Rheims and Paris in the most dreadful alarm. 
 But for the exertions of General Duval, 
 who succeeded in reorganizing part of '"^rt-1'- 
 the rear-guard, and of General Miranda, who re- 
 stored order in the main body, the whole column 
 would have been irretrievably routed. But the 
 Prussian cavalry, not being supported, were at 
 length obliged to retire, astonished at their easy 
 success, and lamenting that so favourable an op- 
 portimity had been lost of destroying the French 
 army. Many of the French troops fled thirty 
 leagues and upward from the field of battle, 
 spreading consternation wherever they went, 
 and declaring that all was lost. At sLx in the 
 evening, after the troops had taken up their 
 ground near Dammartin, a new panic seized the 
 troops : the artillerymen, in haste, haniessed their 
 horses to escape beyond the little river Bionne, 
 and all the camp was in confusion. At length 
 some degree of order was restored by the dra- 
 goons in the general's escort striking the fugi- 
 tives with the flats of their sabres ; great fires 
 were lighted, and the army rested in groups 
 round them, without any distinction or order.t 
 
 " I have been obliged,'" said Dumourier, in his 
 letter to the convention, '-to return from the camp 
 
 tion. The situation of Dumourier was ■ of Grandpre; during the retreat, an unaccount- 
 
 ^^'' highly critical ; his force in the central 
 camp at Grandpre did not exceed sixty thousand 
 men, while the whole Prussian army was in his 
 front, and the Austrians under Clairfait were 
 rapidly defiling into his rear. To complete his 
 misfortunes, Kellerman, whose march from Metz 
 had been unaccountabl}^ slow, had not yet ar- 
 rived ; and it was evident that he could not eflTect 
 a junction but in the rear of the position in the 
 Argonne forest ;t while the detachment intrusted 
 with the defence of the pass of Chene Populeux, 
 tmable to resfst the attacks of the Austrians, 
 abandoned their position, and fell back towards 
 Chalons. " Never," says Dumourier, " was the 
 situation of an army more desperate : France 
 was within a hairbreadth of destruction." 
 
 In this extremity the French general resolved 
 Retreat of ^^ evacuate entirely the line of the Ar- 
 Dumourier gonne forest, and to fall back with all 
 to St. Me- his forces to the position of St. Mene- 
 nfihould hould, a few leagues in his rear. Eve- 
 rything depended upon gaining time; the heavy 
 rains were already commencing, which promised 
 to render a farther advance of the allies extreme- 
 ly difficult, if not impracticable. The camp, in 
 consequence, was raised at midnight on the 15th, 
 and on the 17th the whole army was collected in 
 the rear, at St. Menehould, where he resolved to 
 remain firm till the expected re-enforcements ar- 
 rived. His forces did not exceed twenty-five 
 thousand men; but their position was defended 
 by a numerous and excellent artillery: while 
 the re-enforcernents, which were daily expected, 
 
 * Jom.. li., 115, 119. St. Cyr, i , 67, Introci. 
 + Dum , iii., 20, 21, 23. St. Cyr, i., 67, 69. 
 120,121. Th., iii., 101, 102. 
 
 Jom., ii.. 
 
 able panic seized the armj- ; ten thousand men 
 fled from fifteen hundred Prussian hussars; the 
 loss did not amount to fifty men ; everything is 
 repaired, and I answer for the safety of France." 
 But he was far from feeling, in reality, the con- 
 fidence which these words seemed to indicate. 
 The rout of so large a portion of his forces de- 
 monstrated how little reliance was to be placed 
 on his imdisciplined levies, when performing 
 movements in presence of a numerous and war- 
 like enemy. He resolved, in consequence, to 
 make the war one of positions, and to inspire his 
 troops with fresh confidence by placing them be- 
 hind un attackable iiitrenchments.j 
 
 The position of the new camp which he select- 
 ed, was well calculated to effect these dumourier 
 objects. Placed on a rising ground, in takes post 
 the centre of a large and open valley, it at St. Me- 
 commanded all the country round ; the 2^'"'"' a' 
 centre of the army, under the command '^'''" ' 
 of Dumourier. faced towards Champagne, while 
 the corps of Dillon was stationed on the road 
 leading from Verdun, and still held the passes 
 of Islettes and Chalade, through wliich the prin- 
 cipal road to Paris was conducted. A numer- 
 ous artiller}' defended all the avenues to the 
 camp, and water was to be had in abundance 
 froin the River Aisne, which bounded its right 
 side. In this position the French general anx- 
 iously awaited the arrival of the expected re-en- 
 forcement.l 
 
 * .Tom.,ii., 123. Dum., iii., 33. St. Cvr, i., 69,70, Introd. 
 t St. Cyr. i., 71. Introd. Th., iii., 104, 105. Dum., iii., 
 30, 31. Jom., ii., 123. 
 
 t Dum., iii., .'54. Th.. iii., 106, 107. 
 i) Dum., iii., 35, 36. Th., iii., 106, 107. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 189 
 
 Terrified at the reports which they received of 
 Union of '^^ ^^^^ ^' Vaux, Kellerman and Bour- 
 the Freuch noDville retired, when almost close to 
 armies, the camp of St. Menehould, the former 
 Sept. 19. tQ Vitry, the latter to Chalous. They 
 would have been irretrievably separated, if the 
 allies had shown the least vigour in improving 
 their advantages. But their extraordinary delay 
 gave Dumourier time to reiterate his orders for 
 an immediate junction, and at length, on the 19th, 
 the whole three armies were united in the neigh- 
 bourhood of St. Menehould. The orders to 
 Bournonville were carried by an aid-de-camp 
 of Dumourier, named M.vcdonald, afterward 
 Duke of Tarentum, and victor of the field of 
 Wagram.* 
 
 Tlieir arrival totally changed the state of af- 
 fairs. The spirit of the French soldiers was 
 prodigiously elated by so great an accession of 
 strength. It was no longer a corps of twent3'-five 
 thousand who maintained an unequal struggle 
 with eighty thousand enemies, but a great army, 
 seventy thousand strong, which sought to meas- 
 ure its strength with the invaders. 
 
 Meanwhile, disorder and dismay prevailed in 
 Consterna- ^'^^ ^'^^^ o^ ^^^^ French position. The 
 tjou in the fugitives from Vaux, who fled almost 
 rear of the thirty leagues into the interior, decla- 
 French. j.g^ everywhere that the army was de- 
 stroyed, that Dumourier was a traitor, and that 
 all was lost. The National Guard and gend- 
 annerie at Rheims, Soissons, and Chalons were 
 seized by the same spirit; pillage became univer- 
 sal ; the corps disbanded, and wreaked their disap- 
 pointment on their owm officers, many of whom 
 they put to death. Such was the general con- 
 sternation, that the people of Paris began to de- 
 spair of the Republic, and hesitation became visi- 
 ble in the new levies who were daily forwarded 
 from its gates to the frontier.t 
 
 The troops of Bournonville, which arrived 
 first, were stationed at Sainte Cohiers. When 
 those of Kellerman came up, Dumourier ordered 
 them to encamp between Dampierre and Elise, 
 behind the River Auve ; and, as an attack from 
 the enemy was anticipated, to advance in that 
 event to the heights of V.\i-my. Kellerman con- 
 ceived the order to mean that he should take 
 post there from the first, and accordingly occupied 
 the heights with all his artillery and baggage, 
 and began to erect his tents. The confusion oc- 
 casioned by their arrival attracted the attention 
 of the Prussians, who had arrived on the oppo- 
 site heights of La Lune, and led to an action, in- 
 considerable in itself, but most important in the 
 consequences to which it led.: 
 
 The Duke of Brunswick, hearing of the de- 
 parture of Dumourier from the camp atGrand- 
 pre, at length put his troops in motion, passed 
 the now unguarded defiles of the forest, and on 
 the 18th crossed the Auve, and advanced between 
 the French army and Paris. By this bold move- 
 ment he hoped to cut off the enemy from their 
 resources, and compel them either to aban- 
 don the capital or surrender.! In this way the 
 hostile armies were placed in the most singular 
 position; the Prussians faced towards the Rhine, 
 and had their back to Champagne, while Du- 
 mourier, with his rear at the forest of Argonne, 
 faced towards the French capital. 
 Arrived on the heights of La Lune, on the 
 
 * Bum., iii., 37. Jom.. ii., 124. Th., iii., 109. 
 
 tTouL.ii., 322. Th., iii., 110. Bum., iii., 39. St. C)T, 
 i., 74, 75, Introd. t Dum., iii., 41. 
 
 I) Jom., ii., 124. Th., ii., 115. Toul., ii., 324. 
 
 morning of the 20th, in a thick haze. Cannonade 
 the Prussians, when the vapours clear- of Vaimy, 
 ed away, perceived the French oppo- Sept. 28. 
 site to them on the heights of Valiiiy. A can- 
 nonade immediately commenced : Dumourier, 
 perceiving that it was too late to draw Keller- 
 man back to the camp originally assigned to him, 
 immediately detached nine battalions and eight 
 squadrons, under General Chazot, to his support, 
 while General Steingel was placed, with sixteen 
 battalions, on a height which commanded the 
 position of Valmy on the right.* 
 
 The Duke of Brunswick formed his army in 
 three columns, and seemed disposed to com- 
 mence an attack by the oblique method, the fa- 
 vourite mode at that time in the Prussian forces. 
 An accidental explosion of some ammunition 
 wagons, near the mill of Valmy, occasioned a 
 momentary disorder in the French army, and, if 
 followed by a vigorous attack, would probably 
 have led to a total defeat. But the powerful fire 
 of the French artillery, and the energetic conduct 
 of Kellerman, and the steady front exhibited by 
 his troops, disconcerted the Prussians, and indu- 
 ced the duke to hesitate in engaging his troops 
 in a general action. The affair terminated in a 
 vigorous cannonade on both sides, and the su- 
 perb columns of the Prussians were drawn off at 
 night without having fired a shot. Kellerman 
 bivouacked after the action on the heights of 
 Valmy, and the Prussians on those of La Lune,t 
 barring the great road to Chalons, and still be- 
 tween Dumourier and Paris. 
 
 It is with an invading army as with an insur- 
 rection ; an indecisive action is equivalent to a 
 defeat. The affair of Valmy was merely a can- 
 nonade ; the total loss on both sides did not ex- 
 ceed eight hundred men ; the bulk of the forces 
 on neither were ckawn out ; yet it produced upon 
 the invaders consequences equivalent to the most 
 terrible overthrow. The Duke of Brunswick no 
 longer ventured to despise an enemy who had 
 shown so much steadiness under a severe fire of 
 artilleiy; the elevation of victory, the self-confi- 
 dence which ensures it, had passed over to the 
 other side. Gifted with an uncommon degree of 
 intelligence, and influenced by an ardent imagi- 
 nation, the French soldiers are easily depressed 
 by defeat, but proportionally raised by success ; 
 they rapidly make the transition from one state 
 of feeling to the other. From the cannonade at 
 Valmy ma)^ be dated the commencement of the 
 career of victory which carried their armies to 
 Vienna and the Kremlin.; 
 
 After the action, Kellerman was withdrawn 
 from the heights of Valmy to the ground French re- 
 originally assigned him in the intrench- tain their 
 ed camp, w^hile the Prussians strength- position, 
 ened themselves in their position on the heights 
 of La Lune, still covering the great road to Cha- 
 lons and Paris. The executive council evinced 
 great disquietude at the situation of the armies, 
 and urged Dumourier to change his ground for 
 such a position as might cover Chalons, Meaux, 
 and Rheims, which were threatened by the ene- 
 my's light troops. He replied, with the firmness 
 of a great general, that he would maintain his 
 present position ; and, so far from detaching 
 forces to cover Chalons,! he gave orders for the 
 
 * Toul., ii., 330. Dum., iii., 41. 
 
 t Dum., ii., 44, 45. Jom., ii., 131. 
 Th., iii., 112. 113. 
 
 I Toul., li., 334. .Tom,, ii., 131. Th., iii., 113. 
 iii.. 44. Hard., i., 478. 479. 
 
 ^ Jom., ii., 133. Dum., iii., 44, 47. Th., iii., 116, 117. 
 Ann. Reg., xzxiii., 30. 
 
 Toul., ii., 330, 331. 
 Dum., 
 
190 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIII. 
 
 troops which were collecting there to advance 
 nearer to the scene of action. The position of 
 Islettes was still preserved, and an attack by a 
 detachment of the allies on that important pass 
 was defeated by the obstinate resistance of the 
 officer in command. 
 
 The conduct of the Duke of Brunswick, both 
 in this action, and the movements fortliree weeks 
 which had preceded it, would be altogether in- 
 explicable, if the external aspect of the military 
 events alone was considered. But the truth was, 
 as has at length been revealed, that during all 
 this period a secret negotiation was in dependance 
 between him and Dumourier, the object of which 
 was to obtain, after a little delay, the recogni- 
 tion of the constitutional throne by the latter, and 
 the jimction of his army to the invading force. 
 This negotiation was skilfully conducted by the 
 French general, who constantly held out that he 
 was in reality favourable to the king and the Con- 
 stitution, and would show himself as such when 
 the proper time arrived ; but that, in order to do 
 so with eifect, it was necessary to wait for the 
 arrival of the other corps d'armee, as without an 
 imposing force such a declaration would not be 
 attended with the desired eflect at Paris, and that 
 any disaster in the mean time would put an end 
 to all his designs. By these plausible but in- 
 sidious communications, Dumourier gained time 
 to retire from the Argonne forest to St. Men6- 
 hould without molestation, and completely para- 
 lyzed his antagonist, till the arrival of the ex- 
 pected re-enforcements put him in a situation to 
 throw off the mask and openly resist the allied 
 arms.* 
 
 The same secret negotiation, which had al- 
 ready arrested their movements, restrained the 
 Prussian arms on the held of Valmy ; the Duke 
 of Brunswick was fearful, by a decided action 
 and probable victory, of converting a promised 
 ally into a decided opponent.t No sooner was 
 the cannonade concluded than the interchange of 
 secret messengers became more active than ever. 
 Lombard, private secretaiy to the duke, suflered 
 himself to be made prisoner in disguise by the 
 French patrols, and conducted the negotiation. 
 The duke insisted on the immediate liberation 
 of the king and re-establishment of a constitu- 
 tional monarchy, while the French general avow- 
 ed that these were the objects which he really 
 cherished at the bottom of his heart, but that, in 
 order to carry these intentions into effect with 
 any prospect of success, it was indispensable, in 
 the first place, that the allies should retire and 
 evacuate the French territory, that their doing 
 so would give him so much influence that he 
 had no doubt of being able to achieve these de- 
 sirable objects, and that he pledged his word of 
 honour to do so ; but that, if these terms were 
 resisted, he would exert all the means in his 
 power to destroy the invaders, which his present 
 situation, at the head of a hundred thousand men, 
 enabled him to effect without difficulty, and that 
 the necessary effect of such a continuance of the 
 contest would be the destruction of the king and 
 the royal family, whose lives were already men- 
 aced by the anarchical faction who held the 
 reins of power at Paris.t 
 
 * Hard., i., 471. 
 
 ^ This was openly alluded to in the Prussian official de- 
 spatch giving an account of the battle. " From the general 
 to the lowest soldier, the most enthusiastic spirit animated 
 the army, and it would undoubtedly have pained a glorious 
 victory, if considerations of a still higher kind had not pre- 
 vented the king from giving battle." — ^IIard., i., 482. 
 
 t Hard., i., 486, 487. 
 
 These representations of Dumourier made a 
 great impression at the allied headquarters. The 
 danger to the king's person was evident, from the 
 violence of the Jacobins, and the frightful massa- 
 cre in the j^risons which had already taken place. 
 The conduct of the Republicans, imder the can- 
 nonade of Valmy, had demonstrated that their 
 troops could at least stand fire, and were not dis- 
 posed to join the invaders ; circumstances which, 
 in the most favourable view, presaged a severe 
 and bloody contest before the war was brought 
 to a successful issue. It seemed foreign to the 
 interests of Prussia to risk its sovereign and the 
 flower of its army by a farther advance into 
 France, in pursuance of objects in which it had 
 no inunediate or peculiar interest, and which, if 
 too warmly pursued, would probably divert the 
 national forces from the side of Poland, where 
 real acquisitions for the monarchy were to be 
 obtained. These considerations were strongly 
 urged u]3on the king by his council and the Duke 
 of Brunswick, who had not altogether lost hopes 
 that brilliant prospects still awaited him from the 
 triumph of tlie liberal party in France. But the 
 king steadily resisted, and, inflamed by military 
 ardour and a generous desire to save the august 
 captives at Paris, strongly urged an immediate 
 advance to the capital.* 
 
 The negotiation, however, still continued. The 
 King of Prussia offered terms on which he was 
 willing immecLiately to evacuate the French terri- 
 tory ;t but, in answer, he received a bulletin, con- 
 taining the decree of the assembly abolishing 
 royalty in France, and converting the kingdom 
 into a Republic. Filled with consternation at 
 this intelligence, the Prussian envoys returned 
 mournfully to their camp; and Dumourier art- 
 fully took advantage of^ the general alarm to 
 represent that he was as much distressed as any 
 one at the turn affairs had taken in Paris ; that 
 the Republican party was now triumphant, and 
 could be overthrown only by the restoration of 
 calmer ideas on the return of peace ; but that no- 
 thing could be more certain than that any farther 
 advance of the invaders would involve in instan- 
 taneous ruin the king, the royal family, and the 
 whole nobility, and render utterly hopeless the 
 restoration of legitimate authority .t 
 
 While skilfully making use of these painful 
 and too probable considerations to paralyze the 
 allied annies, and cause them to waste the pre- 
 cious moments in fruitless negotiations, Dumou- 
 rier apprized the government at Paris of all that 
 was going forwanl, and informed them that he 
 was satisfied that the distress was very great in 
 their army, and that, by a little farther firmness 
 on his pait, they would be driven to a disastrous 
 retreat.§ At the same time, he wrote a long 
 
 * Hard., i., 486, 494. t They were— 
 
 1. The kin? disclaims all intention to restore the ancient 
 regime, but wishes only the establishment of such a consti- 
 tution as may be for the advantage of the kingdom. 
 
 2. He insists that all propagaudism should cease in his 
 own dominions and those of his allies. 
 
 3. That tho king should be set at liberty. 
 
 23(i .September, 1792. 
 
 i Hard., i., 500, 501. 
 
 ^ " The proposals of the King of Prussia," said he, " do 
 not appear to offer a basis for a negotiation, but they de- 
 monstrate that their distress is very great— a fact sufficiently 
 indicated by the wretchedness of their bread, the multitude 
 of their sick, and the languor of their attacks. I am per- 
 suaded that the King of Prussia is now heartily sorry at 
 being so far in advance, and would readily adopt any means 
 of extricating himself from his embarrassment. He keeps 
 so near me, from the wish to engage us in a conibat as the 
 only means he has of escaping ; for if I keep within my in- 
 trenchments for eight days longer, his array will dissolve of 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORV OF EUROPE. 
 
 191 
 
 memorial to the King of Prussia, in which he 
 adduced every argument calculated to shake his 
 resolution to advance farther, and insisted, in an 
 especial manner, on the danger to which it would 
 expose the King of France.* 
 
 Frederic William, however, remained firm; 
 neither the strong representations of his generals, 
 as to the danger of his army, nor the still more 
 pressing perils of the King of France, could shake 
 his resolution. At a council of war, held at head- 
 quarters on the 27th of September, at which the 
 ministers of Austria and Russia assisted, it was 
 resolved to advance and give battle on the "29th. 
 But, before this resolution could be carried into 
 execution, intelligence was received which gave 
 the numerous party in the Prussian cabinet who 
 longed for peace the ascendant. A decree of the 
 i~92 Committee of Public Safety was 
 "^ ' ' ' ■ brought to headquarters, in which it 
 had been unanimously resolved to enter into no 
 negotiation until the Prussian troops had entire- 
 ly evacuated the French territory. Advices at 
 the same time arrived from London and the 
 Hague, containing the refusal of the cabinet of 
 St. James and the States-General to join the co- 
 alition. The generals redoubled their represent- 
 ations on the disastrous state of the army; and 
 the Countess Lichtenau, the king's mistress, 
 yielding to a large bribe from the French gov- 
 ernment, employed her too powerful influence for 
 the same object.t Assailed at once in so many 
 different quarters, and overcome by the repre- 
 sentations of his generals as to the necessity of 
 the measure, the king at length yielded ; and on 
 the 29th the orders given for battle were revoked, 
 s 2q ^^'^ ^ retreat resolved on. It was agreed 
 "'' ■ ■ between the generals of the two annies 
 that the Prussians, on condition of evacuating 
 the fortresses of which they had made themselves 
 masters, should not be disquieted in their rear ; 
 and Dumourier, delighted at being relieved by 
 Ms skill and firmness from the overwhelming 
 dangers with which he had been surrounded, 
 wrote to the convention: "The Republic owes 
 its salvation to the retreat of the Prussians. Had 
 I not resolved to resist the imiversal opinion of 
 all around me, the enemy was saved, and France 
 in danger."': 
 
 In coming to this determination, the Prussian 
 cabinet were governed, not less by the old-stand- 
 ing jealousy of Austria, which at that period so 
 strongly influenced both their councils and the 
 teelings of the people, than the prospects of dan- 
 gers from a farther advance. The king, in en- 
 tering upon the campaign, had contemplated only 
 a rapid march to Paiis ; but the protraction of 
 the war, and increased resistance of the French, 
 rendered it evident that that object could not ea- 
 sily be accomplished, and that its prosecution 
 would seriously endanger the long hoped-for Po- 
 lish acquisitions, while the dethronement and 
 captivity of Louis exposed him to imminent haz- 
 ard, if the army continued its advance towards 
 the capital.! 
 
 The event soon justified the confidence of the 
 French general. Dumourier was at the head of 
 sixty thousand men, even after all the losses of 
 
 itself from want of provisions. I will undertake no serious 
 negotiation without your authority, and without receiving 
 from you the basis on whirh it is to be conducted. All that 
 I have hitherto done with M. Manstein is to gain time, and 
 commit no one." — Secret Despatch, Dumourier to the French 
 Government, 2ith September — Hard., i., 500. 
 
 * Hard., i., 499, 509. t Ibid., vii., 245. 
 
 t Secret Despatch, Oct. 1, 1792. Hard., ii., 2. 
 
 t) St. Cyr, i., 80, 81. Jom., ii., 133, 137. Th., iii., 120. 
 Dum., iii., 20. 
 
 the campaign, including twelve thou- distress of the 
 sand horse ; his artillery was numer- allies. They 
 ous, and his position excellent, while resolve to re- 
 large detachments were rapidly form- '•■■<^'"^- 
 ing at Chalons, Rheims, Soissons, Epemay, and 
 all the towns in the interior. His troops, though 
 somewhat affected by the severity of the weather, 
 were, upon the whole, in good health and condi- 
 tion ; and sufficient supplies arrived for the camp 
 from Sedan and Metz, which still remained in 
 the power of the French. On the other hand, the 
 condition of the allied army was daily becoming 
 more critical. Their convoys, harassed by the 
 garrisons of Sedan and Montmedy, and drawn 
 from the remote provinces of Luxemburg and 
 Treves by the pass of Grandpre, arrived very ir- 
 regularly ; the soldiers had been already four days 
 without rations, and subsisted on corn steeped in 
 unwholesome water. The plains of Champagne 
 were steril, destitute alike of water, forage, and 
 provisions. The rains had set in with more than 
 usual severity, and the troops, bivouacked on the 
 open plain, were severely aflected with dysenter- 
 ies and other contagious maladies, which had 
 already cut ofl'one third from the eflective strength 
 of the anny. In the.se circumstances, to advance 
 farther into the enemy's territory would have 
 been an act of the highest temerity, and might 
 have endangered the safety of the King of Prus- 
 sia, as well as his whole forces. An attack on 
 the French intrenched camp was of doubtful suc- 
 cess; failure in such an enterprise certain ruin. 
 The only rational plan was to retire into the fer- 
 tile districts of the three bishoprics, form the 
 siege of Montmedy, and take up their quarters 
 in LoiTaine for the winter, retaining as their ad- 
 vanced posts the defiles in the Argonne forest 
 which they had acquired. But this project was 
 inconsistent with the secret convention which 
 had been adopted, and therefore a retreat to the 
 Rhine was resolved on. 
 
 But while these perplexities were accumula- 
 ting on the allied forces, it was with ^^ , f 
 
 , ■ , . ^. , , ' -r^ . Consternation 
 
 the utmost dilnculty that Dumourier at Paris from 
 was able to maintain his position the retreat to 
 against the reiterated orders of the ^'- M^"^- 
 Convention, and the representations °^ ' 
 of the officers of his own camp. The French 
 government were in the greatest alarm at finding 
 no regular force between them and the allies; 
 and the detached corps of the enemy, who spread 
 as far as Rheims, diffused a general consterna- 
 tion over the whole country. Courier after cou- 
 rier was despatched to the general, with orders 
 to quit his position, and draw near to the capi- 
 tal ; and in these representations Kellerman and 
 the other officers of the army wannly joined. The 
 great concentration of forces soon occasioned a 
 want of provisions in the camp; the soldiers 
 were at last two or three days without bread; 
 and attempts at mutiny were already beginning, 
 especially in the battalions of Federes, recently 
 arrived from Paris. Even the superior ofiicers 
 began to be impressed with the necessity of re- 
 treating; and Kellerman urged such a move- 
 ment with so much eagerness, that the general 
 was obliged to promise, like Columbus, that if 
 the object of his wishes was not attained in a 
 given number of days, he would retii-e. But the 
 firmness of Dumourier triumphed over every ob- 
 stacle ; and by impressing upon his soldiers the 
 tnith, that whichever of the parties could fast 
 longest would prove victorious, he in.spired them 
 with resolution to sunnount all their privations.* 
 
 * Dum., iii., 54, 60. T.U., iiJ., 116. 
 
192 
 
 HISTORY OP EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VKI. 
 
 An armistice of the limited sort above men- 
 Conferences tioned, which stipulated only that the 
 opened for the allies should not be molested in their 
 retreat of the rear during iheir retreat, and left the 
 Prussians. French at perfect liberty to harass 
 the flanks of the invading army, was instantly 
 taken advantage of by Dumourier. On the same 
 day on which it was concluded, he detached sev- 
 eral corps, which forced back the most advanced 
 parties of the enem}', which had spread such dis- 
 may thi'ough the interior, and, gradually press- 
 ing round their flanks, at length hemmed in their 
 rear, cut oif their detachments, and intercepted 
 their convoys. Experience seldom teaches wis- 
 dom : an en'or of precisely the same nature was 
 committed by Napoleon, with still more disas- 
 trous consequences, in the armistice between Mu- 
 rat and Kutusoff, near Moscow, in the Russian 
 campaign.* 
 
 On the 30th of September the allies commen- 
 ced their retreat, and repassed the de- 
 fiesreueaf^" files of the Argonne Ibrest without 
 molestation on the Qd and 3d of Oc- 
 tober. Kellerman in vain urged the command- 
 er to adopt more vigorous measures to harass 
 their march, and strongly recommended the im- 
 mediate detachment of a large body upon Cler- 
 mont. In consequence of the secret understand- 
 ing with the enemy, and of a distrust of his own 
 troops in field movements in presence of so dis- 
 ciplined a force as the Prussians, Dumourier 
 allowed them to retreat in perfect tranquillity, 
 and in the most leisurely manner. On the first 
 day they retired only three miles, and without 
 abandoning any of their equipage ; and it was 
 not till the defile of Grandpre was passed, and 
 the Prussians were fifteen leagues in advance, 
 that Kellerman was detached in pursuit. The 
 allies withdrew in the finest order, and in the 
 most pacific maimer, though dreadfully weak- 
 ened by disease. t 
 
 Relieved by the retreat of the Prussians from 
 the pressing danger which had obliged him to 
 concentrate his forces, Dumourier conceived 
 himself at liberty to resume his favourite project 
 of an invasion of Flanders. Leaving, there- 
 fore, Kellerman -with forty thousand men to fol- 
 low the retiring columns, he sent thirty thousand 
 to the army of the north, under Boumonville, 
 and he himself repaired to Paris. The force 
 with which the Prussians retired was about sev- 
 enty thousand men, and their retreat was con- 
 ducted throughout in the most imposing manner, 
 taking position and facing about on occasion of 
 every halt. It was impossible, consequently, 
 for Kellerman, with his inconsiderable force, to 
 make any impression on the retiring mass ; and 
 the French generals, satisfied with saiing the 
 Republic, appear to have been rather disposed 
 to make a bridge of gold for a flying enemy. In 
 virtue of an express or implied understanding, 
 no molestation was offered to the invaders in 
 their retreat. Verdun and Longwy were suc- 
 ce.ssively abandoned. In the end of October the 
 allies evacuated France, and the troops of Kel- 
 lerman went into cantonments between the for- 
 tress of Longwy and the Moselle.t 
 
 On getting possession of the ceded fortresses, 
 the commissaries of the convention took a bloody 
 revenge on the Royalist party. Several young 
 women, who had presented garlands of flowers 
 to the King of Prussia during the advance of 
 
 * Dum., iii., 03, 65. Jom., ii., 138. 
 
 t Jom., ii., 1.38, 139. Th., iii., 122. Toul., ii., 345, 349. 
 
 t Toul., ii., 351, 356. Jom., ii., 141, 142. Th., iii., 180. 
 
 the army, were sent to the Revolutionary tribu- 
 nal, and condemned to death. The Prussians 
 left behind them, on their route, the most melan- 
 choly proofs of the disasters of the campaign: 
 all the villages were filled with the dead and 
 dying. Without any considerable fighting, the 
 allies had lost, by dy.'-entery and fevers, more 
 than a fourth of their numbers.* 
 
 While these decisive events were taking place 
 in the central provinces, operations of operations 
 minor importance, but yet material to m Fiandei-s. 
 the issue of the campaign, were going Siege of 
 on on the two flanks in Alsace and in ^'s'^- 
 the Low Countries. The principal forces of 
 both parties having been drawn from the Nether- 
 lands to strengthen the armies of the centre, the 
 movements there were necessarily inconsidera- 
 ble. The French camp at Maulde was broken 
 up, and a retreat coimnenced to the camp at 
 BiTiille. a strong position some what in the rear. 
 But, in executing this movemei i, the retreating- 
 force was, on September 14, attacked, and com- 
 pletely routed by the Austrians, with the loss of 
 all their artillery, equipage, and ammunition. 
 Encouraged by this easy success, the invaders, 
 under the Archduke Albert, with a force ot 
 twenty-five thousand, undertook the siege of 
 Lisle, one of the strongest towns in Europe, and 
 which, in 1708, had made a glorious defence 
 against the united armies of Eugene and Marl- 
 borough. The garrison, consisting of ten thou- 
 sand men, and the commander, a man of cour- 
 age and energy, were devoted to the cause of 
 the Republic. In these circumstances, little suc- 
 cess could be hoped for from a regular 
 siege ; but the Austrians endeavoured to ^^^ 
 intimidate the governor by the ten-or of a bom- 
 bardment, which was continued night and day for 
 a whole week. Tliis terrible tempest produced 
 little impression upon the soldiers, who, secure 
 within bomb-proof casements, beheld it fall with 
 indifference upon the defenceless inhabitants ; but 
 upon the people in the vicinity it produced such 
 extreme consternation, that it was afterward as- 
 certained that, had Lisle been taken, almost aU 
 the other frontier towns would have at once capit- 
 ulated, to avoid a similar fate. The Austrians, 
 in fact, would have acquired, by the capture 
 of this important city, a firm footing within 
 the French frontier, attended by the most impor- 
 tant effect upon the future issue of the campaign. 
 But their operations were interrupted by the re- 
 treat of the Duke of Brunswick, and the ap- 
 proach of considerable forces from various quar- 
 ters to raise the siege. The inhabitants bore 
 with heroic fimmess the teiTors of a bombard- 
 ment, which was continued with unprecedented 
 vigour on the part of the enemj', and consumed 
 a considerable portion of the city ; and, during 
 the siege, General Lamartiliere effected his en- 
 try with above ten thousand men, so that the be- 
 sieged became equal to the besieging force. 
 This circumstance, joined to the exhaustion of 
 their ammunition, and the approach of a body 
 detached by Dumourier to threaten their opera- 
 tions, induced the Austrians to abandon their 
 enterprise; and on the 7th of October 
 the siege was raised, and the troops ed^^ct™!' 
 withdrawm from the French territor)'. 
 The terrors of the conflagration, and the glori- 
 ous issue of the siege, were celebrated through- 
 out all France, and contributed not a little to 
 augment that energetic spirit which now anima- 
 
 * Toul., ii., 357. Join., ii., 142. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 193 
 
 ted the inhabitants even of the most distant 
 deparlinents, and soon became so formidable to 
 the nelghlionrhig states.* 
 
 Aleanwinle, General Biron, who commanded 
 Operations i^ Alsace fort3'--five thousand men, con- 
 on thV Up- sunied the most important period of the 
 per Rhine, campaign in tardy preparations. But 
 at length General Custine, who was at the head 
 of a lurce of seventeen thousand men, posted 
 near Landau, undertook an offensive movement 
 against Spires, where immense magazines had 
 been collected. By a rapid advance, he sur- 
 rounded a corps of thi'ee thousand men, who 
 were stationed near the cit}^, and compelled 
 j;^ J. „Q them to surrender, au event which led 
 ^ ^'- " ■ to the immediate capture of Spires, 
 Wonns, and Frankenthal. This important suc- 
 cess, which took place at the very time that the 
 main body of the allies was engaged in the Ar- 
 gonne forest, might have had the most important 
 effect upon the future fate of the campaign, had 
 Custine immediately obeyed the orders of the 
 convention, and, relinquishing his invasion of 
 the Palatinate, turned with his victorious forces 
 on the rear and communications of the Duke of 
 Capture of Brunswick's army. But that general 
 .Mayeiice, had Other projects in view, which turn- 
 Oct. 21. g(| o^^t jjol- a, little serviceable to the 
 Republic. Disobeying the orders of govern- 
 ment, he remained fourteen days in apparent in- 
 activity in the Palatinate, but in reality carry- 
 ing on a secret correspondence with the garrison 
 and Jacobin club in Mentz. In consequence, on 
 the 18th of October he moved at the head of 
 twenty-two thousand men towards that city, 
 which was invested on the 19th, and on the 21st, 
 before a single battery had been raised, that im- 
 portant fortress, the key to the western provinces 
 of the Empire, surrendered by capitulation, the 
 garrison ot four thousand men being allowed to 
 retire on the condition of not serving against 
 the French for twelve months. Thus did the 
 allies lose the only fortified post which they pos- 
 sessed on the Rhine : a signal proof of the rash- 
 ness and presumption with which they had pen- 
 etrated into the heart of France, without securing 
 in an adequate manner their means of retreat.t 
 Stimulated by his desire of plunder, Custine 
 made a useless incursion to I'rankfort, which 
 was of no real service to the campaign; while 
 „ „^ the Duke of Brunswick, terrified at the 
 loss of Mentz, advanced by Ibrced march- 
 es from the neighbourhood of Luxemburg to 
 Coblentz, where his forces defiled over the Rhine 
 bv a flying bridge for twelve .successive days. 
 The corps of the emigrant noblesse was imme- 
 diately dissolved, from want of any resources to 
 keep it together; the Austrian?, under Clairfait, 
 were recalled to the defence of the Low Coun- 
 tries ; and the Prussians put into cantonments 
 on the right bank of the Rhine. Thus was com- 
 pleted the dissolution of that splendid army, 
 which a few months before had entered France 
 with such brilliant prospects, and by v/hich, if 
 properly directed, might have been achieved the 
 deliverance of Eiurope from the scourge of dem- 
 ocratic ambition.: What oceans of blood re- 
 quired to be shed, how many provinces laid 
 waste, how many cities destroyed, before the 
 
 * Jom., ii., 170, 175, 176. Th., iii., 181. Ann. Reg., 
 1793, 55, 56. 
 
 t .Tom., ii , 148, 151, 157, 158. Th,, iii., 182. Ann. Reg., 
 1793,70,71. Hard., ji., 41, 61. 
 
 t Jom., ii., 160, 161. St. Cyr, 1, 8, 9. Th., iii., 185, 186. 
 Hard., ii., 61, 73. 
 Vol. l.—B b 
 
 vantage-ground could -be regained, before the 
 plains of Champagne again beheld a victorious 
 enemy, or a righteous retribution was taken for 
 the sins of the conquering Republic ! 
 
 The final retreat of the allies left Dumourier 
 at liberty to cany into execution a pian for the 
 project he had long meditated, that of invasion of 
 invading the Low Counuies_. and re.s- Flanders, 
 cuing those fine provinces from the Austrian 
 dominion. The advantages of this design were 
 evident : to advance the frontiers of the Repub- 
 lic to the Rhine, to draw from the conquered 
 provinces the means of carrying on the war, to 
 stir up the germ of revolution in Flanders, re- 
 enforce the armies liy the discontented .spirits in 
 that populous countiy, and extinguish the Eng- 
 lish influence in Holland, were objects worthy 
 of the conqueror of Brunswick. He received 
 unlimited powers from the government, and the 
 losses sustained by the allies during their inva- 
 sion gave him a great superiority of force. The 
 right wing, composed of a large portion of the 
 troops detached from the Argonne forest, con- 
 sisted of sixteen thousand men ; between that 
 and the centre Avas placed General Harville with 
 fourteen thousand. Dumourier himself com- 
 manded the main body, consisting of forty thou- 
 sand men, while the left wing, under Labour- 
 donaj-e, was about thirty thousand strong: in all 
 a hundred thousand men, all animated by the 
 highest spirits, and anticipating nothing 
 bui triumph and conquest from their re- '-'c'^-^- 
 cent success over the Prussian invaders.* 
 
 To oppose this immense army the Austrians 
 had no adequ ate force at command. Their whole 
 troops, including the corps which General Clair- 
 fait had brought from the Duke of Brunwick's 
 army, did not exceed forty thousand men, and 
 were scattered over too extended a line. The 
 centre, under the command of the Archduke 
 Albert, was stationed in front of the important 
 city of Mons, while the remainder of the army, 
 scattered over a front of nearly thirty miles, could 
 render little assistance in case of need to the 
 main body.t 
 
 This main body, not above eighteen thousani. 
 men, was intrenched on a strong po- French inva- 
 sition near the village of Jemappes. siouofFlan- 
 The field of battle had been long be- ders. 
 fore chosen by the Imperialists, and extended 
 through the villages of Ausmes and Jemappes 
 to the heights of Berthaimont on the one hand, 
 and the village of Sifly on the other, over a suc- 
 cession of eminences which commanded all the 
 adjacent plain. Fourteen redoubts, strengthen- 
 ed by all the resources of art, and armed by 
 nearly a hundred pieces of artillery, seemed al- 
 most to compensate to the Austrians for their 
 great inferiority of number. The French artil- 
 lery, however, was nearly equal to that of their 
 opponents, and their forces gi'eatly superior, 
 amounting to no less than forty thousand men ; 
 and, though many of these troops were inexpe- 
 rienced, recent triumphs had in an extraordina- 
 ry degree elevated their courage. In this action, 
 the new system of tactics was tried with signal 
 success, viz., that of accumulating masses upon 
 one point, and in this manner forcing some weak 
 part of the position, and compelling the whole to 
 be abandoned.! 
 
 * Compare Jom., ii., 215. Toul., iii., 38, 39. Th.,ii.,210, 
 211. Ann. Reg-.. 1793, 59. Dmn.. iii., 121. 
 
 t Toul., iii., 40. Aim. Reg-., 179.3, 61. 
 
 t Jom.. ii., 217. Dum., iii., 165, 169. Toul., iii., 54. 
 Ann. Reg., 1793, 61, 62. Hard., ii., 45, 47. 
 
194 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIII. 
 
 On the Gth of jN'overaber the battle commen- 
 Battle of ted at daybreak. The I'lench troops, 
 Jeinappes, who had been under arms or in bivon- 
 Nuv. e ac for three successive days, received 
 the order to advance with shouts of joy, moved 
 Ibrward with rapidity, and lost lew men in trav- 
 ersing the plain wlii'cii separated them from the 
 enemy. The attack was commenced by Gener- 
 al Bournonville on the village of Cuesmes: a 
 .severe lire of artillery for some hours arrested 
 his etforts, but at length the flank of the village 
 of Jemappes was turned, and the redoubts on the 
 left of the Austrian position w^ere carried by the 
 impetuous attack of the French columns. Du- 
 mourier seized this moment to make his centre 
 advance against the front of Jemappes ; the col- 
 umn moved forward rapidly and with little loss; 
 but, on approaching the village, they were at- 
 tacked in the flank by some squadrons of horse, 
 which pierced the column, and drove back a por- 
 tion of the French cavalry which supported it. 
 The moment was in the last degree critical ; for, 
 at the same instant, the leading battalions, check- 
 ed by a tremendous lire of grapeshot, were be- 
 ginning to waver at the foot of the redoubts. In 
 thi,s extremity, the heroism of a brave valet oi' 
 Dumourier's, named Baptiste, who rallied the 
 broken troops, arrested the victorious squadrons 
 of the Austrians, while the intrepidity and con- 
 duct of a young general restored the front of the 
 line. Cluickly forming the broken regiments 
 into one column, which he called the column of 
 Jemappes, he placed himsell at its head, and re- 
 newed the attack on the redoubts with so much 
 vigour, that the village was carried, and the Aus- 
 trians were at length driven from their intrench- 
 ments in the centre of the field. This young of- 
 licer was the Duke de Chartres, afterward Louis 
 Philippe, king of the French.* 
 
 While the battle was contested with .so much 
 obstinacy in the centre, Dumourier had an equal 
 cause for anxiety on the right. Bournonville, 
 though at first succes.sful on that side, had paus- 
 ed when he beheld the confusion of the central 
 division, and his movements vacillated between 
 a desire to maintain the ground he had won, and 
 draw back his forces to support the column which 
 seemed in such confusion in the plain. This 
 vacillation was soon perceived b}^ the enemy ; 
 the fire of the French artillery could hardly equal 
 that of five redoubts which played upon their 
 ranks, and a large body of imperial cavalry was 
 in front, ready to charge on the first appearance 
 of disorder. Dumourier fled to the spot, rode 
 along the front of two brigades of his old soldiers 
 from the camp at Maulde, who rent the air with 
 cries of Vive Dumourier! and succeeded in rally- 
 ing the squadrons of horse, who were beginning 
 to fall into confusion . The imperial cavalry char- 
 ged immediately after, but, being received by a 
 volley within pistol-shot by the infantry, turned 
 about in confusion, and the French dragoons 
 being immediately detached in pursuit, the Im- 
 perialist horse were irretrievably routed, and fled 
 in confusion to Mons. Animated by this suc- 
 cess, Dumourier made the victorious brigades 
 chant the Marseillois Hymn, and, taking advan- 
 tage of their enthusiasm, rushed forward at their 
 head, and entered the redoubts by the gorge. 
 Being still uneasy about his centre, however,"he 
 set off", at the head of six squadrons of cavalry, 
 to re-enforce the Duke de Chartres ; but he had 
 
 * Dum., iii., 169, 173. Toul., iii., 49. Ann. Reg., 1793, 
 62. Th., iii., 241, 245. 
 
 not proceeded above a few Imndred paces, when 
 he met his aid-de-camp, the young Duke de 
 Montpensier, with the joyful intelligence that the 
 battle was there already won, and that the Aus- 
 trians were retiring on all points to Mons.* 
 
 Such was the famous battle of Jemappes; the 
 first pitched battle whicli had been gained by the 
 Republican armies, and on that account both 
 celebrated at the time, and important in its con- 
 sequences beyond the real merits of the contest. 
 The Austrian loss amounted to five thousand 
 men; they withdrew all their artillery except 
 fourteen pieces, and retired in good order to 
 Mons. 'I'he French lost above six thousand 
 men ;t but the consequences of the victory on the 
 spirits and moral strength of the two parties were 
 incalculable, and, in lact, led to the immediate 
 conquest of the whole Netherlands. 
 
 These great results, however, were rather ow- 
 ing to the terrors of the Imperialists ^^^.^ ._ 
 than the vigorous measures of the vance cf " 
 French general. On the 7th he en- Dumouner. 
 tered Mons, which opened its gates t^onquest of 
 without resistance, and there remained '''"'^«'i^- 
 in perfect inactivity for five days. Meanwhile 
 the Austrian authorities took to flight in the 
 rear, and, abandoning Brussels, sought refuge in 
 Ruremonde. The French, in the course of their 
 advance, were eveiywhere received with enthu- 
 siasm ; Ath, Tournay, Neuport, Ostend, and 
 Bruges opened their gates ; and, after -^ , g 
 a slight skirmish with the rear-guard, ' ° ' 
 Brussels itself was occupied by their victorious 
 troops. On the right, General Valence . 
 
 captured Charleroi, and advanced to 
 Namur; while on the left, Labourdonaye, after 
 much hesitation, moved forward to Ghent and 
 Antwerp. Before the end of November, the Im- 
 perialists retained nothing of their possessions 
 in the Low Countries but the citadels of that 
 important city and Namur.t 
 
 The magnitude of these successes excited the 
 jealousy of the Republican party at jealousy of 
 Paris. On the very day of the can- Dumourier 
 nonade at Valmy, the Republic had =^' I'^ns. 
 been proclaimed and royalty abolished over 
 France. The rapid conquests of the young gen- 
 eral awakened the alarms of the Republican des- 
 pots ; another Ca?sar, a second Cromwell were 
 denounced; Marat in his sanguinary journal, 
 and Robespierre from the tribune, proclaimed 
 him as threatening tlie liberty of the people. If 
 the event in some degree justified their predic- 
 tions, it must be conceded that they occasioned 
 it, by showing him what fate he had to expect§ 
 if the chance of war, by exposing him to any 
 considerable reverse, should place his head in 
 their hands. 
 
 While these jealousies were forming at the 
 seat of power, the career of conquest French ad- 
 brought Dumourier to the Scheldt, vance to the 
 where events productive of the most Scheldt. Fall 
 important consequences took place, "f Antwerp. 
 The executive council, by a decree on No- 
 vember the IGth, commanded him to open that 
 river to the Flemish vessels, an event which 
 could not fail to produce a rupture with the mar- 
 itime powers. He, in consequence, directed a 
 considerable body of forces to that quarter ; and 
 Labourdonaye, after having made himself mas- 
 
 * Dum., iii.. 173. 175. Toul., iii., 49. Th., iii., 242,246. 
 Ann. Reg., 1793, 62, 63. Hard., li., 45, 47. 
 t Ann. Reg., 1793, 63. Toul., iii., 50, 51. Th., iii., 24«. 
 t Toul., 111., 51, 52. Jom., ii., 236, 239, 243. 
 I) Toul., iii., 52, 53. Jom., ii., 255. Th., iii., 263. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 195 
 
 ter of Malines, and a large depot of military stores 
 which were placed in that city, advanced towards 
 Antwerp. He was there superseded by Duinou- 
 iier, in consequence of su.spicions of his fidelity 
 to the Republican government, and the command 
 given to Miranda, an officer of zeal and talent, 
 who afterward became celebrated for his attempts 
 „ „„ to restore the independence of South 
 ^ America. On November the 30th, the 
 'jitadel of that important city capitulated to the 
 new commander, and the French became undis- 
 puted masters of the Scheldt.* 
 
 The Republican general lost no time in carry- 
 ing into eflect the favourite French project of 
 o]3ening the great artery of Flemish prosperity. 
 He immediately wrote to Miranda: " Lose not a 
 moment in despatching a flat-bottomed boat down 
 the Scheldt, to ascertain whether the navigation 
 IS really imj^eded, or if it is merely a report spread 
 by the Dutch. Do everything in your power to 
 open the stream to commercial enterprise, that 
 the Flemings, contrasting the generosity of the 
 Republic with the avarice of the Austrian gov- 
 ernment, who sold the navigation of the Scheldt 
 to the Dutch for 7,000,000 florins.t may be in- 
 \iuced to adopt the genuine principles of free- 
 dom." Miranda lost no time in taking measures 
 for carrying this design into execution; and in 
 a few days, the flotilla, moored at the mouth of 
 ■the river, ascended to Antwerp, amid the accla- 
 mations of the inhabitants, who beheld in this 
 jj ^ - auspicious event the dawn of a brighter 
 era of commercial enterprise than had 
 ever opened upon their city since the rise of the 
 Dutch Republic.^ 
 
 While the left wing of the army was prosecu- 
 ting these successes, the centre, under 
 ture^Lieinf' Dumourier himself, was also follow- 
 ing the career of conquest. A strong 
 rear-guard of the main body of the Austrians, 
 posted near Roucoux, was attacked on the 2t!th, 
 and, after an obstinate engagement, the Imperial- 
 ^ o- ists retired, and the next morning Liege 
 opened its gates to the victors. The 
 Revolutionary party immediately proceeded to 
 measures of extreme violence in that city; a 
 Jacobin club was formed, which speedily rivalled 
 in energy and atrocity the parent institution in 
 Paris, while the Democratic party divided into 
 opposite factions on the fomiation of an inde- 
 pendent republic or a junction with France. 
 Danton and Lacroix, the commissioners of the 
 convention, strongly supported the latter party, 
 who speedily broke out into every species of vi- 
 olence.! 
 
 At the same time, the right wing, under Va- 
 _ lence, pressed the siege of the citadel 
 
 S Na"^": of Namur. The Austrians, who 
 had established themselves in the 
 vicinity to annoy the besiegers, were first dis- 
 lodged, and the trenches being shortly after open- 
 ed, the fort of Vilette, a strong work which im- 
 peded the operations of the besiegers, was car- 
 tied by assault on the 30th of November. The 
 Dec 2 ^^'•^^^'i ^'^ consequence, surrendered a lew 
 days after, and the garrison, consisting of 
 above two thousand men, were made prisoners 
 of war.JJ About the same time, Miranda dis- 
 Dec 6 possessed the Austrian government from 
 Ruremonde, and took possession of that 
 
 ♦ Jom., ii., 247. Pieces Just., li., No. 6. Th., ii., 26C. 
 t Jom., li., 248. t Jom., ii., 249. 
 
 *! Ann. Ref^., 1793, 66. Th., iii.,266. 
 U Ann. Reg-., 1793, 67. Th., iii., 266. Jom., ii., 249. 
 Toul., iii., 252, 253. 
 
 city; while, on the other side, Dumourier, after 
 dislodging them from their position, covering 
 Aix-la-Chapelle, made himself master of it also. 
 
 Dumourier now projected an irruption into 
 the Dutch territory, and the sieg-e of r, 
 Maestncht, one ot the principal Iron- puts his amy 
 tier fortresses belonging to that re- into wmier- 
 public. But the executive council, quarters, 
 justly apprehensive of engaging at once in a v.-ar 
 with the United Provinces and Great Britain, 
 which was bound by treaty to support them, 
 commanded him to desist liora the enterprise; 
 and his force being now much weakened by sic'c- 
 ness, want, fatigue, and the desertion of above 
 ten thousand men, who had left their colours 
 during the military license which followetl the 
 conquest of Belgium, and the loss of six thousand 
 horses, he resolved to put his troops into winter- 
 quarters. His army, accordingly, was put into 
 cantonments, in a line from Namur, by Aix-la- 
 Chapelle, to Ruremonde. The government urged 
 him to continue his oflensive operations, and to 
 drive the Imperialists beyond the Rhine ; but the 
 exhausted state of his soldiers rendered any far- 
 ther movements impractieable, and, yielding to 
 his urgent representations, they at length 
 consented to their enjoying some weeks ^^'^- ^^* 
 of repose.* 
 
 Flanders was not long of reaping the bitter 
 fruits of PiCpublican conquest. On the 19th of 
 November, the convention, inflamed by the vic- 
 tory of Jemappes, published the famous resolu- 
 tion, in which they declared " that they would 
 grant fraternity and succour to every people who 
 were disposed to recox'er their liberty ; and that 
 they charged their generals to give aid to all 
 such people, and to defend all citizens who had 
 been, or might be, disquieted in the cause of free- 
 dom." This decree, which was equivalent to a 
 declaration of war against every established gov- 
 ernment, was ordered to be translated, and pub- 
 lished in all languages. And it was followed up, 
 on December 15, by another decree, calculated 
 in an especial manner to injure the subjects of 
 the conquered provinces. By this celebrated 
 manifesto, the Republic proclaimed, in all the 
 countries \vhich it conquered, " the sovereignty 
 of the people, the suppression of all the Yieciee of 
 constituted authorities, of all subsisting the conven- 
 taxes and imposts, of all feudal and tionag-ainst 
 territorial rights, of all the privileges "^' govem- 
 of nobility, and exclusive privileges of '"^"'^• 
 every description. It announced to all their sub- 
 jects liberty, fraternity, and equality, invited 
 them to form themselves forthwith into primary 
 assemblies, to elect an administration and pro- 
 visional government, and declared that it would 
 treat as enemies all persons who, refusing these 
 benefits, or renouncing them, should show any 
 disposition to preserve, recall, or treat with their 
 prince or any of the privileged castes. "t 
 
 This last decree excited as violent indignation 
 in Belgium as the first had awakened violent 
 alarm through all Europe, The Flem- changes m 
 ings were by no means disposed to tioduced 
 abandon their ancient chiefs ; and the '"'" B*^'' 
 feudal feelings, which existed in gieat ^'"'"' 
 force in that countiT, were revolted at the sudden 
 severing of all the ties which had hitherto been 
 held most sacred. The dearest interests, the 
 strongest attachments of nature were violated, 
 when the whole ancient aristocracy of the land 
 
 * Jom., ii., 250, 258, 259, 2fi0. Th., iii., 267. Ann. Reg., 
 1793, 69. Dura., in., 230, 233. 
 t Jom., li., 264, 265. Pieces Just., No. 8, 9. 
 
196 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. VIII. 
 
 was uprooted, and a foundation laid for the for- 
 mation of a new set of governors, drawn from the 
 universal sutfrage of the inhabitants ; property 
 of every kind, institutions of whatever duration, 
 were threatened by so violent a shock to the 
 fabric of society. These feelings, natural on so 
 extreme a change in any country, were in a pe- 
 culiar manner roused in Flanders, in conse- 
 quence of the powerful influence of the clergy 
 over its inhabitants, and the vast number of es- 
 tablished interests and great properties which 
 were threatened by the sweeping changes of the 
 French Convention : nor was the exasperation 
 diminished by the speeches of the orators who 
 introduced the measure ; Cambon, who moved 
 the resolution, having spoken of the Low Coun- 
 tries as a conquered province, and Brissot, who 
 seconded it, warned the Belgians to adopt it, 
 under pain of being " put to the ban of French 
 philosophy."* 
 
 Immediately after issuing the decree, Flanders 
 was inundated by a host of revolutionar}^ agents, 
 who, with liberty, patriotism,* and protection in 
 their mouths, had nothing but violence, confis- 
 cation, and bloodshed in their measures. Forced 
 requisitions of men, horses, and provisions, enor- 
 mous contributions levied by militarj'- execu- 
 tion, compulsoiy payment in the depreciated as- 
 signats of France, general spoliation of the 
 churches, were among the first effects of the 
 democratic government. The legions of fiscal 
 agents and tax-gatherers who overspread the 
 land, appeared actuated by no other motive but 
 to wring their uttermost farthing out of the 
 wretched inhabitants, and make their ovrn Ibr- 
 tunes out of a transient possession of the con- 
 quered districts. At their head were Danton, 
 Lacroix, and Carrier, republicans of the sternest 
 cast and the most rapacious disposition, Avho in- 
 fused their own infernal energy into all inferior 
 agents, and gave to the inhabitants of Flanders 
 a foretaste of the Reign of Terror.t 
 
 Five-and-thirty commissioners, really chosen 
 Severe op- by the Jacobin club in Paris, though 
 pressioii of nominally by the convention, supported 
 Flanders, these three master spirits in the work 
 of destruction. They were sent to Flanders 
 nominally to organize the march of freedom — 
 reall}^ to plunder the whole aristocratic party. 
 Immediately on their arrival they divided that 
 tmhappy coimtry into districts, arid each, in his 
 little domain, proceeded to the work of spoliation. 
 The peasants were driven b)- strokes of the sabre, 
 and at the point of the bayonet, to the primary 
 assemblies which had been designated by the 
 convention; while the churches and chateaux 
 were plundered, movables of every description 
 sold, and the proceeds paid over to the French 
 commissioners. The estates of the clergy were 
 everj'where put under sequestration, while valu- 
 able property of every description, belonging to 
 lay proprietors, was seized and sold ; and the 
 unhappy owners, under the odious title of aristo- 
 crats, too often sent olf, with their wives and 
 children, to the fortresses of France, there to re- 
 main as hostages for farther requisitions.^ 
 
 The inhabitants of Flanders, awakened by 
 these terrible calamities from the dream of liber- 
 ty, speedily became as ardent for the restoration 
 of their former government as they had ever 
 been for its overthrow. The provinces of Bra- 
 bant and Flanders, which had made such efforts 
 
 * Jom., ii., 265. Th., iii., 268. 
 
 t Dum., iii., 277, 278. Jom., ii., 265. 
 
 ; Dnm . !i).. 278 
 
 to throw off the yoke of Joseph II., having tasted 
 the consequences of Republican conquest, made 
 the utmost eflbrts to rescue themselves from their 
 liberators. A deputation Avas sent to the emper- 
 or, imploring him to come to their deliverance, 
 promising the aid of thirty thousand men and 
 large advances of money, in case of assistance.* 
 Such were the first fruits of Republican conquest 
 in Europe; but they were not the last. The 
 words of freedom are seductive to all ; its evils 
 are known only to the actual sufferers. Europe 
 required to suffer the evils under which Flanders 
 groaned, before the ruinous illusion which had 
 led to its subjugation was dispelled. 
 
 While these great changes were passing in the 
 north, events of minor importance, but Y,'aT decia- 
 still productive of important conse- veti against 
 ciuences, occurred on the southern and PieUmout, 
 eastern frontier. The mountains of ^"^P"- ^^• 
 SaA^oy Avere the theatre of less sanguinaiy strug- 
 gles between the Republican troops and the 
 Italian soldiers. The evident peril of the Pied- 
 montese dominions, from their close proximitA' 
 to the great centre of revolutionary' action, had 
 led, early in 1792, to measures of precaution by 
 the Sardinian goA'ernment ; and all the states of 
 Italy, alarmed at the rapid progress of democrat- 
 ical principles, had made advances toAvards a 
 league for their mutual support. The ferment 
 in Piedmont was so strong, and the contagion of 
 liberal principles so \iolent, that nothing but 
 Avar, it soon became evident, could saA'^e the 
 kingdom from rcA^olt. Matters Avere brought to 
 a crisis in September, 1792, by the rapid advance 
 of the Imperialists through the Tyrol into the 
 Milanese states. The French despatched an em- 
 bass}"^ to propose an alliance with the Piedmont- 
 ese government, promising in that case to guar- 
 antee their dominions, repress the turbulence of 
 their subjects, and cede to that poAver all the 
 conquests made by their joint forces to the south 
 of the Alps. But the peril of any conjunction 
 with the Republican troops to any established 
 government, Avas so eA'ident, that the King of 
 Sardinia rejected the proposals. The French 
 envoy, in consequence, was not permitted to pro- 
 ceed farther than Alexandria ; and the conven- 
 tion, immediately on receiving intelli- Sept. 15. 
 gence of that decisiA^e step, declared war 1792. 
 against the Piedm.ontese monarch, and immedi- 
 ate orders Avere despatched to General Mon- 
 tesquieu to assail SaA^oy, where the Jacobin emis- 
 saries had already sown the seeds of disaffection 
 to the Italian dynasty .t 
 
 On the 2lst of September the Republicans un- 
 expectedly entered Savo}', and, after a sept. 21. 
 feeble resistance, took possession of French cn- 
 Chamber}^ and Montmelian, and short- t^r Savoy, 
 ly after OA-erran the Avhole A'alleys as far as the 
 foot of Mont Cenis. The Sardinian forces, 
 though nearly ten thousand strong, were so dis- 
 persed that it was impossible to unite them in 
 sufficient numbers to oppose any resistance to 
 the sudden attack of the Republicans ; another 
 proof, in addition to the many on record, of the 
 extreme difficulty of defending a range of mount- 
 ains against a superior and enterprising enemy. 
 Shortly after, operations on a still more extensive 
 scale were undertaken against the country of 
 Nice. On the 1st of October, General Anselme 
 crossed the Var at the head of nine thousand men, 
 and on the same day, the French fleet, consisting 
 of twelve ships of the line and frigates, cast an- 
 
 '^ Jom., ii., 266. t Botta, i., 75, 89. Jom., ii., 180. 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 197 
 
 chor within half cannon-shot of the walls of 
 Nice. Terrified at such superior forces, General 
 Courten, who had not two thousand men at his 
 command, and was menaced by an insurgent 
 population within the town, precipitately retreat- 
 ed towards Saorgio and the Col di Tende, leav- 
 ing the whole coast and valleys, to the ibot of the 
 great chain of the Maritime Alps, in the posses- 
 sion of the French. Montalban and Villa franca, 
 the first of which had so gloriously resisted the 
 Prince of Conti in 1744, surrendered at the first 
 summons, and Saorgio became the frontier post 
 of the Piechnontese possessions.* 
 
 The Pv,epublicans made a cruel use of their 
 victory. I'he inhabitants of Nice and the neigh- 
 bouring country were rewarded for the friendly 
 reception they had given them, by plunder, mas- 
 sacre, and outrages of eveiy description. The 
 mountaineers in the remotest valleys were hunt- 
 ed out, their cattle seized, their houses burned, 
 and their women violated, by those whom they 
 had hailed as deliverers. A proclamation, issued 
 by General Anselme against these excesses, met 
 with no sort of attention ; and the commissioners 
 appointed by the convention to inquire into the 
 tlisorders were unable to make any etfectual rep- 
 aration. Shortly after, an expedition was under- 
 taken against the little fortress of Oneglia by the 
 combined forces of land and sea ; and the inhab- 
 itants having fired on a boat which approached 
 the batteries with a flag of truce, and killed the 
 officer who bore it, a sanguinary retribution for 
 tiiis violation of the usages of war was taken by 
 the total destruction of the to-wn.t 
 
 Thus, in the space of a few weeks, were the 
 countries of Nice and Savoy torn from the Sar- 
 dinian crown, though defended by considerable 
 armies, intersected with rugged and unpassable 
 mountains, and studded with fortresses once 
 deemed impregnable. The sudden prostration 
 of all these means of defence before the first at- 
 tack of the Republicans, gave rise to the most 
 painful reflections. It demonstrated the ineffi- 
 cient state of the Piedmontese troops, once so 
 celebrated, and gave a sad presage of the proba- 
 ble result of an attack on Italy, when its best de- 
 fenders had given such disgraceful proofs of 
 pusillanimity. Nor was the general consterna- 
 tion diminished by the appearance of the exiles 
 from France, who soon after arrived, in the most 
 lamentable condition, at Geneva and Turin; a 
 melancholy example of a sudden transition li-om 
 the highest rank and prosperity to the most ab- 
 ject state of misery.} 
 
 Having thus carried the Republican anns to 
 French iu- fhe foot of the general central ridge 
 vade Switz- which Separates France from Italy, 
 erland. j]-,e convention proceeded to extend 
 
 their conquests to the republics of Switzerland. 
 The cantons of that confederacy were much di- 
 vided in opinion, some having resented with 
 vehemence the massaci'e of the Swiss Guard on 
 the 10th of August, and others being tinged by 
 democratical principles, and ready to receive the 
 Republican soldiers as deliverers from the pre- 
 vailing power of the aristocracy. The Pays de 
 Vaud, in particular, was in such a state of fer- 
 mentation, that some severe examples had been 
 found necessaiy by the govenunent to maintain 
 their authority. Paralyzed by these intestine 
 divisions, the Helvetic Confederacy had resolved 
 to maintain an armed neutrality ; but the grasp- 
 
 * .lom., ii., 190, 198. Ann. Re?., 1793. 74. Bot., i., 95. 
 t Jom., ii., 200, 203, 205. Botta, i., 92, 96. Ann. Reg., 
 1793, 74. t Botta, i., 97, 98. 
 
 ing views of the Republican conquerors deprived 
 them of such an advantage, and brought them at 
 last into the general field of European warfare.* 
 Clavieres, minister of foreign affairs in France, 
 and a Genevese by birth, espoused wannly the 
 part of the maleconteuts in his native city. He 
 was eager to turn his newly-acquired power to 
 the ruin of the faction, v\'ith which he had long 
 contended in that diminutive republic. He di- 
 rected Servan, the minister at war, to write to 
 General iVIontesquieu, " that it would be well to 
 break the fetters which despotism had forged to 
 bind the Genevese, if they were inclined to pub- 
 lish the Rights of Man." That general was ex- 
 tremely imwilling to commence this new aggres- 
 sion, not only because the diet had given him the 
 strongest assui'ances of their resolution to main- 
 tain a strict neutrality, but because the canton 
 of Berne had assembled a force of nearly ten 
 thousand men to enforce its ob.servation ; and it 
 was foreseen that an attack on Geneva would be 
 held as a declaration of war against the whole 
 confederacy. Undeterred by these prudential 
 considerations, the French government com- 
 manded Montesquieu immediately to advance, 
 while on their side the Swiss sent 1800 men to 
 aid in the defence of the city. When the Repub- 
 licans arrived in the neighbourhood of Geneva, 
 they found the gates closed, the succours arrived, 
 and received a notification from the senate of 
 Berne that they would defend it to the last ex- 
 tremity. The defenceless state of the frontier 
 towns in the Jura, between France and Switzei-- 
 land, rendered it highly imprudent to engage in 
 an immediate contest with these warlike mount- 
 aineers. In these circumstances negotiation 
 seemed preferable to open violence, and, after a 
 short time, the French retired from the neigh- 
 bourhood of Geneva, and General Montesquieu 
 ventured openly to disobey the rash commands 
 of the convention, who had ordered him to under- 
 take the siege of that city. Two successive con- 
 ventions were agreed to, in virtue of which the 
 Swiss withdrew their forces from the town, and 
 the French their troops from its vicinity. Geneva 
 was rescued for the moment from the ^ , „„ 
 perilofRepublicaninvasion,andMon- ^'^^^_ 2.'^° 
 tesquieu had the glory of saving his 
 country from the consequences of the rash and 
 unjustifiable aggression which they had com- 
 menced.t 
 
 The convention lost no time in consolidating 
 their conquests, and making them Measures to 
 the foundation of farther revolution- revolutionize 
 ary measures. A Jacobin club of Savoy. 
 1200 members was formed at Chambery, with 
 affiliated societies through all Savoy, which 
 soon spread the fever of Democracy through the 
 whole Maritime Alps, and threatened the insti- 
 tutions of Piedmont with total overthrow. A 
 National Convention, established at Chambery 
 on the 2lst of October, proclaimed the abolition 
 of royalty, tithes, and the privileged orders; and 
 deputations from all the clubs in Savoy were 
 sent to Paris, and received iu the most enthusi- 
 astic manner by the French Legislature. At 
 length, on the 27th of November, the j^^.^ 2:. 
 whole of Savov was incor)5orated with 
 France, under the name of the Department of 
 Mont Blanc ; and shortly after, the dis- ^^^ _ 
 trict of Nice was swallowed up in the en- 
 croaching Republ ic, under the title of the De- 
 
 * Jom., ii., 306, 310. Th., iii., 190, 191. 
 t Ann. Reg., 1793, 75. Jom., ii., 311, 312, 313. T!i., iii., 
 191. 
 
198 
 
 HISTORY Ob EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. Vin. 
 
 Nov. 15. 
 
 partment of the Maritime Alps, and the state of 
 Monaco added to its extensive dominions.* 
 
 Amid these general triumphs of tlie Republi- 
 O|ieratioiis can causc, fortune deserted their stand- 
 on the Up- ards on the Upper Rhine. The French 
 per Rhine, forces in that quarter, which amount- 
 ed, including the armies of Kellerman, Custine, 
 and Biron, to sixty thousand men, might have 
 struck an important blow against the Duke of 
 Brunswick's army, now severely weakened by 
 the departure of "the Austrians under Clairfait 
 lor the defence of the Low Countries. But the 
 movements of these generals, not sufficiently 
 combined with each other, led to nothing but 
 disaster. The plan adopted was for Bournon- 
 ville, who had succeeded Kellerman, to take 
 possession of Treves and move upon Coblentz, 
 where he was to eftect a junction with Custine, 
 and with their united forces press upon the al- 
 lies, already threatened by the army of Flanders, 
 and compel them to recross the Rhine. This 
 plan was ably conceived, but its execution en- 
 tirely failed, owing partly to the difficulty of the 
 enterprise in the beginning of winter, and partly 
 to the want of cordial co-operation among the 
 generals who conducted it.t 
 
 General Larobcliere, who was intrusted with 
 the advanced guard of Bournonville's ar- 
 my, amounting to 3000 men, destined to 
 attack the city of Treves, was recalled when his 
 journe)'' was half completed, by the apprehen- 
 sions of his commander-in-chief; while Cus- 
 tine, whose force, by the deduction of the garri- 
 son of Mayence, was reduced to 15,000 men, 
 seemed more intent upon pillaging the palaces 
 which fell in his way, and establishing Jaco- 
 bin clubs in Frankfort and Mayence, than on 
 prosecuting the military movements of the cam- 
 ]"iaigTi. Meanwhile, the Prussians, observing 
 ilie inactivity of the army of Kellerman, secret- 
 ly drew their forces round Custine's corps, in 
 the hope that, unsupported as it was, and far in 
 advance, it might be made prisoners before any 
 elfectual succour could be detached to its sup- 
 port. The design, owing to the supineness of 
 the commander of the French forces, had very 
 nearly succeeded. For long Custine disregard- 
 ed the Prussian corps, which were gradually 
 drawn round him, and was only awakened from 
 his dream of security upon finding his sole re- 
 ,-^. Q maining line of retreat threatened by the 
 enemy. He then detached General Hou- 
 chard with three thousand men, who had an un- 
 successful action with the Prussians near Lim- 
 ,. ., bu!g; but shortly after, the arrival of 
 twelve thousand men from the army of 
 the Upper Rhine put him in a condition to re- 
 sume offensive operations.! 
 
 Meanwhile the King of Prussia, finding him- 
 Decera 2 ^'^^^ ^^ ^'^^ ^^^^"-^ '^^^ ^ noble force of fifty 
 French re- thousand men, now in some measure 
 cross the recovered from their disasters, resolv- 
 Khme. g^j jq anticipate the enemy, and drive 
 them from the right bank of the Pv.hine, in order 
 Ui give his troops secure cantonments for the 
 winter. With this view he put his army in mo- 
 tion, and directing the bulk of his forces against 
 Custine's right flank, obliged him to retire to an 
 intrenched camp behind the Nidda, leaving a 
 garrison of 2000 men in Frankfort in a most 
 precarious situation. The king immediately at- 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1793. 131, 135, 140, 
 t Toul., lii., ins, 106, .Tom., ii., 269, 272. 273. 
 i J(.m., ii,, 275, 278, 280. St. Cyr, i., 9, 12. TauL, 
 v;i., 108. 
 
 tempted a coup de Tttain against that city, which 
 completely succeeded, the whole garrison, with 
 the exception of two hundred men, being either 
 killed or made prisoners, Custine, upon this 
 disaster, after making a feeble attempt to defend 
 the course of the Nidda, repassed the Rhine, and 
 cantoned his troops between Bingen and Frank- 
 endal, leaving a garrison of ten thousand men to 
 defend the important fortress of Mayence. On 
 their side, the allies also put their troops into 
 winter-quarters, of which they stood much in 
 need, the line of their cantonments extending 
 through Frankfort and Darmstadt, with an ad"^ 
 vanced guard to observe that frontier city.* 
 
 Thus terminated the campaign of 1792, a pe- 
 riod fraught with the most valuable instruction 
 to the statesman and the soldier. Already the 
 desperate and energetic character of the war was 
 made manifest ; the contagion of republican 
 principles had gained for France many con- 
 quests, but the severity of republican rule had 
 rendered the delusion, in the countries which 
 they had overrun, as shortlived as it was fal- 
 lacious. In many places their armies had 
 been welcomed, upon their arrival, as deliver- 
 ers ; in none had they been regretted, on their 
 departure, as friends. The campaign, which 
 opened under such untoward auspices, had been 
 marked by the most splendid successes on the 
 part of the Republicans ; but it was evident that 
 their conquests had exceeded their strength, and 
 it was remarked that at its close their aifaii-s 
 were declining in every quarter.r In the north, 
 the army of Dumourier, which had just com- 
 pleted the conquest of Flanders, had fallen into 
 the most disorderly state ; whole battalions had 
 left their colours and returned home, or spread 
 themselves in bands of robbers over the conquer- 
 ed territory ; the horses and equipments were in 
 wretched condition, and the whole army, weak- 
 ened by license and insubordination, fast tending 
 to deca)^ The armies of Boumonviile and Cus- 
 tine, paralyzed by the division and inactivity of 
 their chiefs, were in little better circumstances, 
 and their recent failures had gone far to weaken 
 the energetic spirit which their early successe.s 
 had produced ; while the troops who had over- 
 run Savoy and Nice, a prey to their own dis- 
 orders, were suffering under the consequences 
 of the plunder and devastation which had inflict- 
 ed such misery on the conquered districts.^ 
 
 But it was evident, from the events which had 
 occurred, that the war was to exceed in magnitude 
 and importance any which had preceded it, and 
 that consequences, beyond all example moment- 
 ous, were to follow its continuance. The cam- 
 paign had only commenced in the beginning of 
 August, and before the close of the year, an in- 
 va.sion the most fonnidable which had ever 
 threatened the existence of France had been 
 baffled, and conquests greater than any achieved 
 by its preceding monarchs obtained. Flanders, 
 the theatre of .such obstinate contests in the reign 
 of Louis XIV,, had been overrun in little more 
 than a fortnight ; the Transalpine dominions of 
 the house of Savoy severed from the Sardinian 
 crown, and the great frontier city of Germany 
 wrested from the Empire, almost under the eyes 
 of the imperial and royal armies. All this had 
 been accomplished, too, under the greatest possi- 
 ble apparent disadvantages; the French armie.s 
 had taken the field in a state of complete insub- 
 
 * Jom., ii., 282, 292, Toul,, iii,, 116, 117. St. Cyr. 11, 
 12, 16. Har.l., ii,, 77, 98. t Jom,, ii,, 192, 
 
 t Jom,, u,, 292, 317. Dum,, iii,, 230, 
 
1792.] 
 
 HISTORY OP EUROPE. 
 
 199 
 
 ordination ; disgrace and discomfiture had at- 
 tended their first efforts; the kingdom was torn 
 hy intestine faction; a large portion of its nobil- 
 itv in the ranks of the invaders; and few of its 
 g-enerals had seen any service, or were in a con- 
 dition to oppose the experienced tactics of the en- 
 emy. 
 
 But to these apparently overwhelming disad- 
 vantages, the French had to oppose elements 
 hitherto unknown in modern warfare, the energy 
 of Republican valour, and the vigour of Demo- 
 cratic ambition. Experience soon demonstrated 
 that these principles were more powerful than 
 any which had yel been brought into action in 
 human affairs, and that the strength they confer- 
 red would be equalled only by the development 
 of passions as strong, and feelings as universal. 
 The French triumphed as long as they contend- 
 ed with kings and armies ; they fell when their 
 tyranny had excited the indignation, and their 
 invasions roused the patriotism of the people. 
 
 But it was not imniediatdy that this formidable 
 power arose; and political lessons of the ut- 
 most moment for the future guidance of man- 
 kind, may be gathered from the commencement 
 of this memorable war. 
 
 1. The first conclusion which presents itself 
 is the absolute necessity, in attacking a country 
 in a state of revolution, of proceeding vigorously 
 in the outset, and not suffering early success to 
 convert democratic energy into military ambi- 
 tion. These two principles are nearly allied ; 
 the one rapidly passes into the other ; but at first 
 they are totally distinct. After a little success 
 in war, a revolutionaiy state is the most formi- 
 dable of all antagonists ; before that has been ob- 
 tained, it generally may, without much difficult}', 
 l>e vanquished. No armies could be in a worse 
 state than those of France at the commencement 
 of the campaign of 1792, and the reason was, that 
 die license of a revolution had dissolved the bands 
 of discipline ; none could be more formidable 
 than they were at Areola, because success had 
 then turned political fen'our into the career of 
 conquest. In attacking a revolutionary state, 
 Uie only wise and really economical course is to 
 put forth a powerful force at the outset, and nev- 
 er permit a transient success to elevate the spir- 
 its of the people. Bitterly did the Austrian and 
 Prussian governments regret the niggardly dis- 
 play of their strength at the commencement 
 of the war. They could easily have then put 
 forward a hundred thousand men for the inva- 
 sion of Champagne, while sixty thousand ad- 
 vanced through Alsace, and as many from the 
 Low Countries. Two militar}' monarchies, 
 M'ielding a united force of above four hiindred 
 thousand men, could assuredly have made sucii 
 an effort for a single campaign.* What a mul- 
 titude of evils would such an early exertion have 
 saved ; the French conscription, the campaign 
 of Moscow, the rout of Leipsic, the blood of mill- 
 ions, the treasures of ages ! 
 
 2. Had the allies duly improved their advan- 
 tages at the outset, the R,evolution might unques- 
 tionably have been vanquished in the first cam- 
 ])aign. A little less delay in the advance to the 
 Argonne forest would have prevented the French 
 from occupying, with their inexperienced force, 
 its broken defiles, and compelled them to j'ield 
 up the capital, or fight in the plains of Cham- 
 pagne, where the numerous cavalry of the Prus- 
 »iians would have proved in-esistible ; a little 
 
 * Jom., i., 375, 39G. 
 
 more vigour in pressing on the retreating col- 
 umn from Grandpre to St. Menehould would 
 have dispersed the whole defending army, and 
 converted the passion for freedom into that of 
 terror. Fifteen hundred Prussian hussars there 
 routed ten thousand of the best troops of France ; 
 the fate of Europe then hung on a thread ; had 
 the Duke of Brunswick fallen on the retiring anny 
 with a considerable force, it would have dissolv- 
 ed, and the reign of the Pcevolution was at an end. 
 3. The occupation of the defiles of the Ar- 
 gonne forest by Dumourier has been the subject 
 of the highest panegyric fronu military writers; 
 but it brought France to the brink of ruin by the 
 peril to wluch his army was exposed in the sub- 
 sequent retreat to St. Menehould. A very com- 
 petent authority, Marshal St. Cyr, has censured 
 it as a perilous and useless measure, which, by 
 dividing the French force in front of a superior 
 enemy, exposed them to the risk of being beaten 
 and cut to pieces in detail.* In truth, the inabil- 
 ity of Dumourier to defend the passes of that for- 
 est, adds one to the numerous instances on rec- 
 ord of the impossibility of defending a range of 
 broken ground, however strong, against a supe- 
 rior and enterprising enemy. The reason is, 
 that the defending force is necessarily divided to 
 guard the different passes, whereas the attacking 
 may select their point of assault, and by bringing 
 overwhelming numbers there, compel the aban- 
 donment of the whole line. This is just what 
 Napoleon did in the Maritime Alps, Soult in the 
 Pyrenees, and Diebitsch in the Balkan. The 
 only example of the succes.sfnl maintenance of 
 such a position is that of Wellington at Torres 
 Vedras ; but that was not the defence of a range 
 of mountains so much as a great intrenched 
 camp, adequately defended b}' field-works at all 
 points. Unquestionablv, by keeping liis forces 
 together, Dumourier would never have exposed 
 them to the imminent hazard which occurred in 
 the retreat of his detached columns from Grand- 
 pre to the camp in the rear, a movement which, 
 if executed in presence of an enterprising enemy, 
 would have proved fatal to France. Had Na- 
 poleon been in the Duke of Brunswick's place 
 with so superior a force, he would speedily have 
 penetrated through the other defiles of the Ar- 
 gonne forest, and compelled Dumourier to lay 
 down his arms in his impregnable camp. 
 
 4. The Avretched condition and inglorious ex- 
 ploits of the French armies at the commence- 
 ment of the war, is a striking proof of the extreme 
 peril to national independence which arises from 
 soldiers taking any part in civil disseflsions, and 
 forgetting, for the transient applause of the mul- 
 titude, the obedience and fidelity which are the 
 first of militarv' virtues. The revolt of the French 
 Guards, the vacillation of the army under Louis 
 XVI., placed the national independence on the 
 brink of ruin. The insubordination, the tumults, 
 the indiscipline consequent on such a revolt, 
 Atj up the sources of militaiy prowess : till they 
 are removed, the nation has no protection against 
 its enemies. Let not future ages calculate upon 
 again meeting with the gpnius of Dumourier, or 
 the timidity of the Duke of Brunswick : had mat- 
 ters been reversed, had the French commander 
 headed the invaders, and the Prussian been in- 
 trusted with the defence, where would now have 
 been the name or the independence of France "? 
 Internal despotism and foreign subjugation are 
 the inevitable consequences of such breaches of 
 
 * St. Cyr's Mem., i., 64, et seq. 
 
200 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IX. 
 
 military discipline. France tasted the bitterness 
 of both in consequence of the applauded revolt 
 of her defenders ; the Reign of Terror, the des- 
 potism of Napoleon, the capture of Paris, were 
 its legitimate consequences. The French army 
 preserved its honour unsullied, and maintained 
 the vii-gin purity of the capital tlu'ough all the 
 perils of Ihemonju-chy : it lost both amid the an- 
 archy wliich followed the desertion of its duty on 
 the rise of the Republic. 
 
 Lastly, from the glorious result of the generous 
 efforts which the I-'rench people made to main- 
 tain their intle])endence after revolt had paralyzed 
 their regular aefenders, the patriots of succeeding 
 times may derive materials for encouragement, 
 even in the severest extremities of adverse for- 
 tune. No situation could well appear more 
 
 desperate than that of France after the foil of 
 Longwy, with an insurgent capital and a disu- 
 nited people, pierced to the heart by an invading 
 army, and destitute alike of experienced com- 
 manders and disciplined soldiers. Yet from all 
 these dangers was France delivered by the ener- 
 gy of its government and the heroism of its in- 
 habitants. From the extremity of peril at Grand- 
 prt', how rapid was the transition to security and 
 triumph — to glories greater than those oi' Francis 
 I. — to conquests more rapid than those of Louis 
 XIV.: a striking example to succeeding ages of 
 what can be effected by energy and patriotism ; 
 and of the rewards wliich await those who, dis- 
 regarding the frowns of Ibrtune, steadily adhere, 
 through all its vicissitudes, to the discharge of 
 duty. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FRENCH REPIJBLIC — FROM THE DEATH OF THE KING TO THE FALL OF THE GIRONDISTS. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 General Grief and Consternation .it the Death of Louis.— It 
 irrecoverably ruins the Girondists. — Retirement of Roland 
 from the Ministry of the Interior, who is succeeded by 
 Garat. — War with England, and Spain, and Holland. — 
 Prodigious Effect of this Event. — Its prejudicial Effect on 
 the Royalist aad Constitutional Cause. — Plan for Resist- 
 ing the Allies adopted by the .lacobins. — Establishment of 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal. — Great Distress in Paris. — 
 Popular Demands for a Law of the Maximum. — Designs 
 of Dumouvier.— He resolves to re-establish the Monarchy. 
 — His Failure, and Flight.— Contests between the Giron- 
 dists and Jacobins. — Abortive Conspiracy of the Jacobins. 
 — War breaks out in La Vendi^e. — Vigorous Measures of 
 the Convention.— Dumourier denounced, and Committee 
 of Public Safety appointed. — Girondists and Centre send 
 Marat to the Revolutionary Tribunal. — Vehement Agita- 
 tation to counteract it. — He is acquitted. — Energetic Pro- 
 posal of Guadet. — General Insurrection against tlie Giron- 
 dists and the Convention. — Desperate Contest in the As- 
 sembly. — Report of Garat declaring Paris in a State of 
 Tranquillity. — Insurrection renewed on May 31st. — Vast 
 Force organized in the Fauxbourgs.— They surround and 
 assail the Convention. — Velienient Debate witliiu its 
 Walls. — They move out of the HaU, but are driven back 
 by the armed Bands. — The Thirty Leaders of the Gironde 
 are given up, and put under An'est. — Many escape into 
 the Provinces. — Their Trial and Condemnation. — Heroic 
 Death. — Trial and Death of Madame Roland. — Her gen- 
 erous Conduct. — Death of M. Roland. — Reflections on the 
 FaU of the Girondists. 
 
 The death of Louis completed the destniction 
 of the French monarchy. The Revolution had 
 now run the iirst stage of such convulsions. 
 vSpringiug i'rom philanthropic principles, cherish- 
 ed by patriotic feeling, supported by aristocratic 
 liberality, indulged with royal favom", it had suc- 
 cessively ruined all the classes who supported 
 its fortunes. The clergy were the first to join its 
 standard, and they were the first to be destroyed ; 
 the nobles then yielded to its fortunes, and they 
 were the next to suffer ; the king had proved him- 
 self the liberal benefactor of his subjects, and 
 conceded all the demands of the Revolutionists, 
 and, in return, he was led out to the scaffold. It 
 remained to be seen what was the fate of the vic- 
 tors in thestiife; whether such crimes were to go 
 unpunished, and whether the laws of Nature 
 promised the same impunity to wickedness which 
 they had obtained from human tribunals. 
 
 " Gluid in rebus civilibus," says Bacon, " max- 
 imeprodestl Andacia. duid secundum'? Au- 
 dacia. duid tertium 1 Audacia. In proniptu 
 ratio est ; inest enim natural humauEe, plerum- 
 que plus stulti quam sapientis, unde et facultates 
 
 em, quibus capiturpars illainanimismortalium 
 stulta, sunt omnium potentissimec. Auamenut- 
 cunque ignorantiis et sordidi ingenii proles est 
 audacia, nihilominus fascinat et captivos ducit 
 eos qui vel judicio inffmiiores sunt vel animo li- 
 midiores ; tales autem smit hominum pars max- 
 ima." " Le canon que vous eiitendez," said Dan- 
 ton at the bar of the assembly, " n'est pas le can- 
 on d' alarm ; c'est le pas de charge sur nos enne- 
 mis. Pour les vaincre, pour les atterrer, que 
 faut-il ■? De I'audace ! encore de I'audace ! tou- 
 jours de I'audace !" It is not a little remarkable, 
 that philosophical sagacity should have inspired 
 to the sage of the sixteenth, not only the idea, but 
 the very words, which a practical acquaintance 
 with the storais of the Revolution suggested to the 
 terrible demagogue of the nineteenth century.* 
 
 Never was the truth of these memorable words 
 more strongly demonstrated than in France du- 
 ring the progress of the Revolution. Rank, in- 
 fluence, talent, patriotism, abandoned the field of 
 combat, or sunk in the struggle ; daring ambition, 
 reckless audacity, vanquished every opponent. 
 The Girondists maintained that the ibrce of rea- 
 son and of the people was the same thing ; and 
 flattered themselves that, by their eloquence, they 
 could curb the Revolution when its excesses be- 
 came dangerous ; they lived to experience their 
 utter inability to contend with popular violence, 
 and sunk under the fury of the tempest they had 
 created. 
 
 The maxim, " Vox populi vox Dei," is true 
 only of the calm result of human reflection, when 
 the period of agitation is passed, and reason has 
 resumed its sway : so predominant is passion in 
 moments of excitation, that it would be nearer 
 the truth then to say that the voice of the people 
 is that of the demons who direct them. A horse, 
 maddened by terror, does not rush more certainly 
 on its own destruction than the populace when 
 excited by revolutionary ambition. It is this law 
 of Nature which provides its slow but certain 
 punishment. To scourge each successive fac- 
 tion which attains the head of affairs, another 
 more hardy than itself arises, until the punish- 
 ment has reached all the guilty classes, and the 
 nation, in sackcloth and ashes, has expiated its 
 offences. 
 
 Bacon, x., 32. Mig., i., 204. Tli., iii., 272. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 201 
 
 The death of the king roused numbers, when 
 General con- ^^o late, to the dangers of popular 
 sternatitjn at rule. Hcarcely had his head lallen 
 the death of ironi the scallbld, when the public 
 Louis. grief became visible : the brigands 
 
 who were hii-ed to raise cries of triumph, failed 
 m rousing a voice among the spectators. The 
 name of Santerre was universally execrated : 
 " The king was about to appeal to us," said the 
 people, " and we would have delivered him."' 
 Many dipped their handlierchiefs in the blood of 
 the victim ; his hair was religiously gathered, and 
 placed with the relics of saints, by the few who 
 retained religious sentiments. The National 
 Guards, silent and depressed, returned to their 
 homes ; throwing aside their arms, they gave 
 vent, in the bosom of their families, to feelings 
 which they did not venture to display in public. 
 "Alas ! if I had been sure of my comrades !" was 
 Uie general expression ; fatal effect of civil dis- 
 sension, to paralyze the good from mutual dis- 
 trust, and elevate the wicked from conscious au- 
 dacity.* 
 
 The execution was over at half past ten, but 
 the shops continued shut, and the streets deserted, 
 during the whole day. Paris resembled a city 
 desolated by an earthquake. Groups of assas- 
 sins alone were to be seen, singing revolutionary 
 songs, the same as those which preceded the mas- 
 sacre of September. Their voices, re-echoed by 
 the silent walls, reached the prison of the Tem- 
 ple, and first informed the royal family of the fate 
 of the sovereign. The queen, with her orphan 
 son, fell on their knees, and prayed that they 
 might soon join the martyr in the regions of 
 Heaven.t 
 
 The death of the king not only rendered the 
 It in-ecovei- P^i'ti^s irreconcilable, but weakened 
 ably ruined the influence of the Girondists with 
 the Giruii- the people. The Jacobins incessant- 
 dists. ]y taunted them with having endeav- 
 
 oured to save the tyrant ; the generous design 
 could not be denied, and constituted an unpar- 
 donable oflence in the eyes of the Democratical 
 part)^ They accu.sed them of being enemies of 
 the people, because they deprecated their ex- 
 cesses; accomplices of the tyrant, because they 
 .strove to save his life; traitors to the Republic, 
 because they recommended moderation towards 
 its opponents. Lest the absurdity of these re- 
 proaches should become manifest by the return 
 ol' reason to the public mind, they adopted eveiy 
 means of continuing the popular agitation. To 
 strike terror into the enemies of the Revolution; 
 to keep awake the revolutionary fervour, by the 
 exhibition of danger, and the fury of insurrec- 
 tions ; to represent the safety of the Republic as 
 solely dependant on their exertions ; to electrify 
 the departnrents by the aid of athliated societies: 
 such v.-as the system which they incessantly pur- 
 sued, till all their enemies were destroyed. t 
 
 A temporary union of the contending parties 
 ^ took place, in consequence of the con- 
 
 o/roI^ui" sternation produced by the death of 
 one of the deputies, Lepelletier St. Far- 
 geau, who was murdered for voting against the 
 life of the king by an old member of ihe Garde 
 du Corps named Paris. The condition of the 
 U-uce v,'as the dismissal of the upright and in- 
 trepid Roland from the ministry of the interior. 
 ile was succeeded by Garat, a man of a benev- 
 olent disposition, but no firmness of character, 
 
 « Lac, 1-., 256. Th., iv., 2. 
 
 t Mignet, 1., 242. Th., iv., 2, 3. 
 
 Vol. I.— C c 
 
 t Lac, X., 257 
 
 and totally disqualified for the perilous times in 
 which his ofiicial duties commenced. By the re- 
 tirement of Roland, the Girondists lost tlie only 
 firm support of their party.* 
 
 The Jacobins, to the last moment, were doubt- 
 ful of the success of their attack upon the king. 
 The magnitude of the attempt, the enormity of 
 the criine, startled even their sanguinary minds ; 
 and their exultation was proportionally great at 
 theu- unlooked-for success. The Girundists, on 
 the other hand, grieved for the illustrious victim, 
 and, alarmed at the appalling success of their ad- 
 versaries, perceived in the martyrdom of Louis 
 the prelude to long and bloody feuds, and the finst 
 step in the inexorable system which so soon fol- 
 lowed. They had abandoned Louis to his fate, 
 to show that they were not Royalists ; but the 
 humiliating weakness deceived no one in the 
 Republic. All v/ere aware that they did so from 
 necessity, not inclination ; that fear had master- 
 ed their resolution; and that the appeal to the 
 people was an attempt to devolve upon others a 
 danger which they had not the vigour to face 
 themselves. They lost in this way the confi- 
 dence of eveiy party : of the Royalists, because 
 they had been the original authors of the revolt 
 which dethroned the king ; of the Jacobins, be- 
 cause they had recoiled from his execution. Ro- 
 land, completely discouraged, not by personal 
 danger, but the impossibility of stemming the 
 progress of disaster, was too happy at the pros- 
 pect of escaping from his perilous eminence into 
 the tranquillity of private life.t 
 
 All parties were disappointed in the effect 
 which they had anticipated from the death of the 
 king. The Girondists, whose culpable declama- 
 tions had roused the spirit which larought him to 
 the block, had imagined that their ascendency 
 over the populace would be regained by their 
 concurrence in this great sacrifice, and that they 
 would prefer their conservative and moderate 
 counsels to the fierce designs of their dreadful 
 rivals, the Jacobins ; but they were soon unde- 
 ceived, and found to their cost that this act of ini- 
 quity, like all other misdeeds, rendered their sit- 
 uation worse than it had formerly been. The 
 Orleanists lost by this terrible event the little con- 
 sideration Vv'hich they still pos.sessed, and Phi- 
 lippe Egalite, who had flattered himself that, by 
 agreeing to it, he would secure the crown to 
 himself and his descendants, was speedily over- 
 whelmed in the shock of the more energetic and 
 extreme factions who disputed the lead in public 
 afiairs. The Jacobins, with more reason, ex- 
 pected that the destruction of the throne would 
 secure to them a long lease of power : and they 
 did not enjoy it for eighteen months. France, 
 overwhelmed by their tyranny, sought refuge 
 from its horror, not in the vacillating hands of a 
 benevolent monarch, but the stem grasp of a re- 
 lentless warrior. Such is the march of revolu- 
 tions : they never recede when their leaders ob- 
 tain unresisted ascendenc}^, but are precipitated 
 on, like the career of guilt in an individual, from 
 one excess to another, till the extremity of suffer- 
 ing restores the lead to the classes qualified to 
 take it, and expels the deadly poison of Democra- 
 cy from the social system.! 
 
 The Girondists exerted themselves to the ut- 
 most to prevent Roland from retiring from the 
 ministry of the interior, but all their efforts were 
 in vain. Even the influence of his beautiful and 
 
 * Lac, Pr. Hist., ii., 50. Mifjnet, i., 243, 244. Toul., 
 iii., 235. Th., iv., 3. t Th., iv.. 2, 3. Buzot, 10-13. 
 
 t Hist.de la Conv., ii., 152, 115, 116. 
 
202 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IX. 
 
 gifted wife was unable to retain him at his post. 
 He declared that death would be preferable to 
 the mortiiication he was daily obliged to endure. 
 His part}' were in despair at his retirement, be- 
 cause they saw clearly the impossibility of sup- 
 plying his place : they had become sensible of 
 the ruinous tendency of their measures to their 
 countiy and themseh^es, when it was no longer 
 possible to remeasure their steps.* 
 
 External events of no ordinary imponance 
 occurred at this time, which precipitated the fall 
 of this celebrated party, and accelerated the ap- 
 proach of the Reign of Terror. 
 
 The first of these was the accession of Eng- 
 land to the league of the allied sover- 
 Sa"nf eigns against the Republic. The exe- 
 cation of the kmg, as Vergniaud had 
 predicted, at once dissolved the species of neu- 
 trality which subsisted between the rival states ; 
 Chauvelin, the French ambassador, received or- 
 ders immediately to leave London, and this was 
 succeeded, in a few days, by a declaration of war 
 by the convention against England, Spain, and 
 Feb 1 1703 Holland ; against England, a.s having 
 ' ' ' ' already virtually declared war by the 
 dismissal of the French ambassador; against 
 Holland, as in reality influenced by England; 
 against Spain, as already a secret enemy. These 
 declarations were followed by an order for the 
 immediate levy of 300,000 men.t 
 
 The effect of these mea.sures throughout France 
 Prodigious '^'^^ prodigious. " We thank you for 
 eflfect^of having reduced us to tlie necessity of 
 this event, conquering" was the answer of one of 
 the armies to the convention in reply to the an- 
 nouncement of the death of the king and the 
 declaration of war. And, in truth, these senti- 
 ments were universal in the armies, general 
 among the people. The feeling of national hon- 
 our, in all ages so powerful among the French, 
 was awakened ; the dominant party of the Jaco- 
 bins at Paris no longer appeared in the light of a 
 relentless faction contending for power, but as a 
 band of patriots bravely struggling for national in- 
 dependence: resistance to their mandates seemed 
 nothing short of treason to the commonwealth in 
 its hour of danger. Every species of requisi- 
 tion was cheerfully furnished under the pressure 
 of impending calamity ; in the dread of foreign 
 .subjugation, the loss of fortune or employment 
 was forgotten ; one only path, that of honour, 
 was open to the brave ; one only duty, tliat of sub- 
 mission, remained for the good ; and even the 
 blood which streamed from the scaffold seemed 
 a sacrifice justly due to the offended genius of 
 patriotism, indignant at the defection of some of 
 its votaries.: 
 
 The Rovalist, Constitutional, and Moderate 
 Its preiudi- " parties were never again able to sep- 
 cial effect on arate the cause of France ironi that 
 the Royalist of the Jacobins, who then ruled its 
 and Constitu- destinies. The people, ever led bv 
 uonal cause, ^j^^jj. feelings, and often incapable 
 of just discrimination, though, when not ac- 
 tuated by racked leaders, in the end generally 
 true to the cause of virtue, constantly associated 
 the adherents of these parties with the enemies 
 of the R.epublic : the Royalists, because they 
 fought in the ranks of the' allies, and combated 
 the Republic in La Vendee; the Constitutional- 
 ists, because thev entered into negotiations with 
 the enemies of the stale, and sought the aid of 
 
 ♦ Hist. delaConv., ii., 153. 
 
 t Lac, Pr. Hist., i., 51. Mign., i., 248. Th., iv., 13, H. 
 
 t Toul., iii.,236 237. Th., iv., 4, 5. 
 
 foreign araiies to restore the balance of domestic 
 faction ; the Moderate, because they raised their 
 voices against internal tyranny, and sought to 
 arrest the arm of power in the effusion of human 
 blood. The party which becomes associated in 
 the mind of the people, with indifference to the 
 fate of the country in periods of danger, can 
 never, during the subsistence of that generation, 
 regain its influence; and the opposition to the 
 ruling power during such a crisis can hardly 
 avoid such an imputation. By a singular coin- 
 cidence, but from the influence of the same prin- 
 ciple, the opposition, both in France and Eng- 
 land, at this period, lost their hold of the influen- 
 tial part of the nation, from the same cause : the 
 French Royalists, because they were accused of 
 coalescing with foreign powers against the in- 
 tegrity of France ; the English Whigs, because 
 they Avere suspected of indifference to national 
 glory in the contest with continental ambition.* 
 
 The French leaders were not insensible to the 
 danger arising from the attack of so pj^^^^ ^^ ^-^^ 
 formidable a coalition; but retreat jacobins for 
 was become impossible. By the ex- resisting the 
 ecution of Louis, they had come to a aUies. 
 final rupture with all established governments. 
 The revolt of tiie lOth of August, the massacres 
 in the prisons, the death of the king, had excited 
 the most profound indignation among all the 
 aristocratic portion of society throughout Eu- 
 rope, and singularl}'' cooled the ardour of the 
 raidd/ing ranks in favour of the Revolution. 
 The Jacobins were no longer despised by the 
 European powers, but feared ; and terror prompts 
 more vigorous efforts than contempt. But the 
 Republican leaders at Paris did not despair of 
 saving the cause of Democracy. The extraordi- 
 nary movement which agitated France gave 
 them good grounds for hoping that they might 
 succeed \\\ raising the whole male population for 
 its defence, and that thus a much greater body 
 might be brought into the field than the allies 
 could possibly assemble for their subjugation. 
 The magnitude of the expense Avas to them a 
 matter of no consequence. The estates of the 
 emigrants afforded a vast and increasing fund, 
 which greatly exceeded the amount of the public 
 debt ; while the boundless issue of assignats, at 
 whatever rate of discount they might pass, amply 
 provided for all the present or probable wants of 
 the treasuiy.t 
 
 The diftrculty of procuring subsistence, and 
 the total stagnation of commerce, the unavoida- 
 ble result of revolutionar}' convulsions, increased 
 to a most alarming degree during the months of 
 Februaiy and March, 1793. Dread of pillage, 
 repugnance on the part of the cultivators to sel) 
 their produce for payment in the depreciated 
 currency, which necessarily resulted from the 
 unlimited issues of assignats, rendered abortive 
 all the efforts of the government to supply the 
 public necessities. At the same time, the price 
 of every article of consumption increased so im- 
 mensely, as excited the most vehement clamours 
 among the people. The price, not only of bread, 
 but of sugar, coffee, candles, and soap, had more 
 than doubled since the Revolution commenced. 
 Innumerable petitions on this subject succeeded 
 each other at the bar of the assembly. The 
 most violent of the Jacobins had a remedy ready: 
 it was to proclaim a maximum for the price of 
 ever}' article, lay a forced tax on the rich, and 
 hang all persons who sold at a higher price than 
 
 ♦ Lac-., 111., 237. Mig., i., 248. 
 
 t Th., iv., 16, 18. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 203 
 
 that fixed by law. In vain Thuriot and a few 
 of the more educated of the party raised their 
 voices against these extreme measures; they 
 were assailed with cries against tb.e shopkeeper 
 oristocruai, their voices drowned by hisses from 
 the galleries ; and the Mountain itself found that 
 resisting such proceedings would speedily render 
 them as unpopular as the Girondists had alreadj' 
 become. The people now declared that the 
 leaders they had selected were as bad as the old 
 nobles. Perhaps the greatest and most ruinous 
 delusion in such convulsions is the common 
 opinion that, by selecting their rulers from their 
 own body, the labouring classes will find them 
 more inclined to sympathize \viX\\ their distresses 
 tlian if taken from a more elevated class ; a nat- 
 ural but pernicious opinion, which all history 
 proves to be fallacious, and which the common 
 })roverb, as to the eflect of setting a beggar on 
 horseback, shows to be adverse to the common 
 experience of mankind.* 
 
 At length the extreme difficulty of procuring 
 subsistence roused the people to a perfect fur}'. 
 A tumultuous mob surrounded the hall of the 
 Jacobins, and treated that body as they had so 
 oflen treated the assembly. The object was to 
 procure a petition from them to the convention, 
 to procure the imposition of a maximum. The 
 demand was refused ; instantly cries of " Down 
 with the forestallers, down with the rich," re- 
 sounded on all sides, and the Jacobins were 
 threatened as they had threatened the conven- 
 tion. Marat, the following morning, published 
 a number of his journal, in which, raising his 
 powerful voice against what he called " the mo- 
 nopolists, the merchants of luxury, the support- 
 ers of fraud, the ex-nobles," he added, "in every 
 country where the rights of the people are not 
 a vain title, the pillage of a few shops, at the 
 doors of which the}^ hung their forestalling 
 owners, would put an end to an evil which re- 
 duces five millions of men to despair, and daily 
 causes thousands to die of famine. When will 
 tlie deputies of the people learn to act, without 
 eternally haranguing on evils they know not how 
 to remedy T't 
 
 Encouraged by these exhortations, the popu- 
 lace were not slow in taking the redress of their 
 wrongs into their own hands. A mob assem- 
 bled, and pillaged a number of shops in the 
 streets of La Veille Monnaie, Cinq Diamans, 
 and Lombards. They next insisted that every 
 article of commerce should be sold at half its 
 present price, and large quantities were seized 
 m that manner at a niinous loss to the owners. 
 Speedily, however, they became tired of paying 
 at all, and the shops were openly pillaged with- 
 out an}' equivalent. t 
 
 All the public bodies were filled with conster- 
 nation at these disorders. The shopkeepers, in 
 particular, whose efforts in favour of the Revo- 
 lution had been so decided at its commencement, 
 were in despair at the approach of anarchy to 
 tueii' own doors. The Girondists, who were for 
 the most part the representatives of the commer- 
 cial cities of France, were fully alive to the dis- 
 astrous effects of a maximum in prices ; but 
 when they attempted to enforce their principles, 
 they were universally assailed by the populace, 
 and their efforts in this particular destroyed all the 
 little consideration which still remained to them. 
 Nor were the Jacobins more successful in their 
 
 * Th., iv., 39, 41. Hist, de la Conv.^ ii., 164. 
 t .Journal de la Republique. 25th Feb.. 1T93. Th., iv., 
 43, 44. t Th., iv., 46. 
 
 exertions in this respect. The suffering wa.s 
 real and universal : nothing could make the peo- 
 ple see it was owing to the measures of the Rev- 
 olution. The attempts of the municipality to 
 restore order, or pass coercive regulations, were 
 drowned in the cries of the multitude and the 
 hisses of the galleries : every new act of vio- 
 lence which was recounted was received with 
 shouts of applause. Neither at the convention, 
 nor the Hotel de Ville, nor the Jacobins, could 
 any remedy be devised for the fury of the people. 
 Robespierre, St. Just, Chaumette, v/ere hooted 
 do'um the moment they attempted to speak. Tlie 
 Royalists contrasted these deplorable scenes 
 with the tranquillity enjoyed under the mon- 
 archy. " Behold," said the Girondists, "to what 
 we are fast driving under the system of popular 
 violence." " It is all," said the Jacobins, " the 
 work of Royalists, Rolandists, Girondists, and 
 partisans of La Fayette in disguise. Robes- 
 pierre maintained in the evening, at the Jacobins, 
 the popular doctrine " that the people could do 
 no wTong," and that the Royalists were the se- 
 cret instigators of all the disorders.* 
 
 The alarm in Paris soon became extreme : 
 all the public bodies declared their sittings per- 
 manent ; the generale eveiy where called the 
 armed sections to their posts, and the people 
 openly talked of the necessity of a new insur- 
 rection, to "lop off" the gangrened parts of the na- 
 tional representation." The Girondists, who 
 were the first likely to suffer, assembled, arm- 
 ed, at the house of Valaze, one of their num- 
 ber, where indecision and distraction of opinion 
 paralyzed all their counsels. The Jacobins 
 were hardly less! embarrassed than themselves. 
 Though supported by the municipality, the ma- 
 jority of the sections, or National Guard, and 
 the armed multitude, they did not conceive the 
 public mind yet ripe for a direct attack on the 
 national representatives, where the Girondists 
 still held the important offices. They resolv- 
 ed, therefore, to limit their demands to minor 
 points, preparator}- to the gi-and attack wliich 
 was to overthrow their adversaries.* 
 
 The other event which consolidated the influ- 
 ence of the Jacobins in the metropo- 
 lis was the unsuccessful attempt of Resigns of 
 Dumourier to restore the constitution- 
 al throne. This celebrated general, who was 
 warmly attached to the principles of the Giron- 
 dists, had long been dissatisfied with the sangui- 
 nary proceedings, and still more sanguinaiy dec- 
 larations of the Democratical leaders, and saw 
 no safety for France but in the re-establishment 
 of the Constitution of 1791. He left the com- 
 mand of his army, and came to Paris in order 
 to endeavour to save the life of Louis, and when 
 that project failed, returned to Flanders, and en- 
 tered into negotiations with Holland and Great 
 Britain. His design was to make an irruption 
 into Holland, overturn the Revolutionaiy au- 
 thorities in that country ; to fonn a new govern- 
 ment in the seventeen provinces of the Nether- 
 lands, and raise an army of eighty thousand 
 men ; to offer the alliance of this state to the 
 French government, on condition of their resto- 
 ring the Constitution of 1791 ; and, in case of re- 
 fusal, to march lo Paris with his own forces 
 and those of the Belgians, and overturn the con- 
 vention and the rule of the Jacobins.t 
 
 * Th., iv., 47, 48. Hist, de la Conv., ii., 163. 
 t Th., iv., 50, 55. 
 
 t Dura., ii., 287. Toul.,iii., 25G, 260. Mign.,i.,249,250. 
 Robnd, i.,217. 
 
204 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE 
 
 [Chap. IX. 
 
 Full of this extraordinaiy project, Dumourier, 
 at the head of fifteen thousand men, threw him- 
 self into Holland. He was at first successful, 
 and succeeded in obtaining possession of Breda 
 and Gertruydenberg ; but, while prosecuting his 
 career, intelligence was received of the rout of 
 the French army besieging Maeslricht, and or- 
 ders were given for the immediate return of the 
 victorious array to cover the frontiers. So great 
 was the consternation in the Republican troops, 
 that whole battalions disbanded themselves, and 
 some of the fugitives fied as far as Paris, spread- 
 ing the most exaggerated reports wherever they 
 went. In obedience to his orders, Dumourier 
 returned to Flanders, and fought a general ac- 
 tion with Prince Cobourg; but the allies were 
 successful, and the victory of Nerwinde com- 
 pelled the French to abandon all their conquests 
 in Flanders.* 
 
 These events, the details of which belong to 
 another chapter, occasioned an immediate rup- 
 ture between this general and the Jacobins. 
 Shortly after the battle, he wrote a letter to the 
 convention, in which he drew too faithful a pic- 
 ture of their government, accusing them of all 
 die anarchy and disorders which had prevailed, 
 and declaring them responsible for the safety of 
 tJieir more moderate colleagues. This letter w"as 
 suppressed by the government ; but it was circu- 
 lated in Paris, and produced the greatest sensa- 
 tion. Danton returned to the capital from the 
 army, and openly denounced the " traitor Du- 
 mouiier" at the club of the Jacobins ; his head 
 Avas loudly called for as a sacrifice to national 
 justice ; and the agitation occas-ioned by the 
 public disasters was incessantly kept alive by 
 the circulation of the most gloomy reports.t 
 
 Impelled by the imminent danger of his 
 OAvn situation, dissatisfied with the measures of 
 the convention, who had both thwarted his po- 
 litical wishes and withered his militarjr laurels ; 
 chagrined at the conduct of the government to 
 the Belgians, who had capitulated on the faith of 
 his assurances, and had subsequently been cruel- 
 ly treated by the conquerors, Dumourier entered 
 into a correspondence with the allied generals. 
 In the prosecution of this design, he neither acted 
 with the vigour nor the caution requisite to en- 
 sure success ; to his otficers he openly spoke of 
 marching to Paris, as he had recently before 
 spoken of marching to Bnissels ; while the sol- 
 diers were left to the seductions of the Jacobins, 
 who found in them the willing instruments of 
 their ambitious designs. Dumourier, as he him- 
 self admits, had not the qualities requisite for 
 the leader of a party; but, even if he had po.s- 
 sessed the energy of Danton, the firmness of 
 Bouille, or the ambition of Napoleon, the current 
 of the Revolution was then too strong to be ar- 
 rested by any single arm. Like La Fayette and 
 Pichegru, he was destined to experience the truth 
 of the saying of Tacitus, " Bellis civilibus plus 
 militibus quam ducibus licere." His power, 
 great while wielding the force of the Democracy, 
 crumbled when applied to coerce its fury; and 
 the leader of fifty thousand men speedily found 
 himself deserted and proscribed in the midst of 
 the troops whom he had recently commanded 
 with despotic authority.! 
 
 The first intimation which the convention re- 
 ceived of his designs was from the general him- 
 
 * Lac, ii., 53. 55, 56. Mign., i., 250. 
 t Toul., iii.. 203. Mi?., i., 251. Th., iv., 112, 113. 
 t Tacitus, Hist., ii., 44. Lac, ii., 255, and 56. Toul., 
 ji., 294, 306. Mig., i., 258. 
 
 self. Three detennined Jacobins, Proly, Pereira, 
 and Dubuisson, had been sent to headquarters to 
 obtain authentic accounts of his intentions : in a 
 long and animated discussion with them, he 
 openly avowed his views, and threatened the 
 convention with the vengeance ol' his army. 
 " No peace !" he exclaimed, "' can be made lor 
 France if ^e do not destroy the convention ; as 
 long as I have a sword to wield, 1 shall strive to 
 overturn its rule, and the sanguinary tribunal 
 which it has recently created. The Republic is 
 a mere chimera ; I was only deceived by it for 
 tliree days ; we must save our country by re- 
 establishing the throne, and the Constitution of 
 1791. Ever since the battle of Jemappes, I have 
 never ceased to regret the triumphs obtained in 
 so bad a cause. What signifies it whether the 
 king is named Louis, James, or Philip 1 If the 
 lives of the prisoners in the Temple are endan- 
 gered. France will still find a sovereign, and I 
 will instantly march to Paris to avenge their 
 death."* 
 
 To the imprudence of this premature declara- 
 tion, Dumourier, with tliat mixture of warmth 
 and facility which distinguished his character, 
 added the still greater fault of letting the com- 
 missioners, thus posses.sed of his intentions, de- 
 part for Paris, where they lost no time in inform- 
 ing the convention of the danger which threat- 
 ened them. Instant measures were taken to 
 counteract the designs of so formidable an op- 
 ponent. Proceeding with the decision and ra- 
 pidity which, in civil dissensions, is indispensa- 
 ble to success, they summoned him to appear at 
 theii" bar, and on liis failure to obey, despatched 
 four commissioners with instructions to bring 
 him before them, or ari'est him in the middle of 
 his army. Dumourier received these represent- 
 atives in the midst of his staff; thej'^ read to him 
 the decree of the assembly, commanding his in- 
 stant attendance at their bar ; he refused to com- 
 ply, alleging as an excuse the important duties 
 with which he was intrusted, and promising to 
 render an account of his proceedings at some 
 future time. The representatives urged as a 
 reason for his submission the example of the 
 Roman generals. " We deceive ourselves," re- 
 plied he, " in alleging as an apology for our 
 crimes the virtues of the ancients. The Romans 
 did not murder Tarquin : they established a re- 
 public, governed by wise laws ; they had neither 
 a Jacobin club nor a Revolutionary Tribunal. 
 We live in the days of airarchy ; tigers demand 
 my head ; I will not give it them." " Citizen 
 general." said Carnier, the leading representa- 
 tive, '• will you obey the decree of the conven- 
 tion, and repair to Paris "?" " Not at present," 
 replied Dumouriei". " I declare you then sus- 
 pended from your functions, and order the sol- 
 diers to arrest your person." " This is too 
 much," exclaimed the general; and, calling in 
 his hussars, he arrested the representatives of 
 the convention, and delivered them as hostages 
 to the Austrian general. t 
 
 The die being now cast, Dumourier prepared 
 to follow up his design of establishing He resolves 
 a constitutional monarchy. Public tore-estab- 
 opinion in his army was strongly di- HsU tiie 
 vided : the corps attached to his person "lo'iardiy. 
 were ready to go all lengths in his support; those 
 of an opposite tendency regarded him as a traitor; 
 the majority, as in all civil convulsions, were indif- 
 
 * Mi?., i., 256. Lac, ii., 57. 
 
 t Lac, ii., 57. Mig. i., 257, 258. Toul., iii., 311, 312. 
 Th., IV., 118, 119. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 205 
 
 fcrent, and ready to side with the victorious party. 
 But the ^^enerai wanted the firm hand requisite 
 to guide a revolutionary movement, and the feel- 
 ings of the most energetic of his soldiers were 
 hostile to his designs. He set out lor Conde, 
 with the intention of delivering it to 
 and ilTrihr '^'^ Austriuns, according to agreement, 
 ° ' as a pledge of his sincerity ; but, having 
 ancountered a body of troops adver.se to his de- 
 signs, he was compelled to lake to flight, and 
 only escaped by abandoning his horse, vi'hich re- 
 fused to leap a ditch. With heroic courage, he 
 endeavoured, the following day, with an escort 
 of Austrian hussars, to regain his camp; but the 
 sight of the foreign uniforms roused the patriotic 
 feelings of the French soldiers ; the artillery first 
 abandoned his cause, and soon after their ex- 
 ample was followed by the whole infantry. Du- 
 mourier with difficulty regained the Austrian 
 lines, where fifteen hundred followers only join- 
 ed his standard. The remainder of the army 
 collected in an intrenched camp at L'amars, 
 where, shortly after. General Dampierre, by au- 
 thority of the convention, assumed the com- 
 mand.* 
 
 The failure of this, as of every other unsuccess- 
 Contests be- ^"^ Conspiracy, added to the strength 
 tween the Gi- of the ruling party in the French 
 rondistsami capital. Terror, often greatest when 
 Jacobins. jj^g danger is past, prepared the 
 people to take the most desperate measures 
 for the public safety ; the defection of Dumou- 
 rier to the Austrians gave the violent revolution- 
 ists the immense advantage of representing their 
 adversaries as, in reality, enemies to the cause 
 of France. During the first fervour of the alarm, 
 the Jacobins denounced their old enemies, the 
 Girondists, as the authors of all the public ca- 
 lamities, and actually fixed the lOth of March 
 for a general attack upon the leaders of that par- 
 ty in the bosom of the convention. The assem- 
 bly had declared its sittings permanent on ac- 
 coimt of the public dangers; and on the evening 
 of the 9th it was determined at the club of the 
 Jacobins and the Cordeliers, on the following 
 day to close the barriers, to sound the tocsin, and 
 march in two columns with the forces of the 
 fauxbourgs upon the convention. At the ap- 
 pointed hour, the leaders of the in.surrection re- 
 paired to their posts ; but the Girondists, inform- 
 ed of their danger, abstained from joining the as- 
 sembly at the dangerous period; the sections 
 and National Guard hesitated to join the insur- 
 gents ; Bournonville, minister of war, marched 
 against the fauxbourgs at the head of a faithful 
 battalion of troops from Brest, and a heavy rain 
 cooled the revolutionary ardour of the multitude. 
 Petion, looking at the watery sky, exclaimed, 
 " It will come to nothing; there will be no in- 
 surrection to-night." The plot failed, and its 
 failure postponed for a few weeks the commence- 
 ment of the Reign of Terror. By such slender 
 means was it possible at that period to arrest the 
 disorders of the Revolution ; and on such casual 
 incidents did the most momentous changes de- 
 pend .t 
 
 Danton and the Jacobins made an immediate 
 Establishment "^^ ^^ the agitation produced by 
 oftheRevolu- these events to urge the e.stablish- 
 
 tionary Tribu- mcnt of a REVOLUTIONARY TrIBU- 
 
 nal,9th March, j^^^, " in order to defend from inter- 
 
 * Tout., iii., 313, 316, 320. Mig., i., 258. Lac, ii., CI, 
 62. Th., 120-126. 
 t Mig., i., 251. Lac, ii., 62, 65. Th., iv., 76. 
 
 nal enemies the relations of those who were com- 
 bating Ibreign aggression on the frontiers." The 
 Girondists exerted themselves to the utmost to 
 resist this institution, as arbilraiy as it threaten- 
 ed to be formidable. But their' efibrts v/ere in 
 vain ; the public mind, violently shaken by the 
 dread of domestic treason, was inaccessible to 
 the apprehension of sanguinary rule. All that 
 they could efiect was in the end to introduce ju- 
 ries into the new court, and to moderate, to a 
 certain degree, the violence of its proceedings 
 until the fatal insurrection which subjected 
 themselves to its terrors.* 
 
 At the same time, another decree was passed, 
 which imposed upon all proprietors an extraor- 
 dinary war-tax ; a tliird, which organized forty- 
 one commissions, of two members each, to go 
 down to the departments, armed with full pow- 
 ers to enforce the recruiting, disarm the refracto- 
 ry, seize all the horses destined for the purposes 
 of luxury : in a word, exert the inosl despotic 
 authority. These commissioners generally ex- 
 ercised their powers with the utmost rigour ; and 
 being armed with irresistible authority, and sup- 
 ported by the whole Revolutionary party, laid 
 the foundations of that iron net in which France 
 was enveloped during the Reign of Terror.t 
 
 The conspirators, astonished at the absence of 
 the Girondists during the critical pe- Abortive con- 
 riod, broke out into the loudest in- splracyofthe 
 vectives against them tor their de- Jacobms. 
 fection. " They were constantly at their posts," 
 they exclaimed, "when the object was to save 
 Louis Capet, but they hid themselves when the 
 country was at stake." On the following day, 
 all Paris resounded with the failure of the con- 
 .spiracy; and Vergniaud, taking advantage of the 
 general consternation, denounced in the conven- 
 tion the committee of insurrection which had 
 protected the massacre, and moved that the pa- 
 pers of the clubs should be seized, and the mem- 
 bers of the committee arrested. " We march," 
 he exclaimed, "from crimes to amnesties, and 
 from amnesties to crimes. The great body of 
 citizens are so blinded by their frequent oc- 
 currence, that they confound these seditious dis- 
 turbances with the grand national movement 
 in favour of freedom, regard the violence of 
 brigands as the efibrts of energetic minds, and 
 consider robbery itself as indispensable for pub- 
 lic safety. You are free, sa)^ they ; but unless 
 you think like us, we will denounce you as vic- 
 tims to the vengeance of the people; you are 
 free, but rmless you bow before the idol which 
 we worship, we will deliver you up to their vio- 
 lence ; you are free, but unless you join us in 
 persecuting those whose probity or talents we 
 dread, we will abandon you to their fui3'. Citi- 
 zens, there is too much reason to dread that Uie 
 Revolution, like Saturn, will siKcesslvely devcnir all 
 its progeny, and finally leave only despotism, iinih 
 all the calamities which it produces." These pro- 
 phetic words produced some impression ; but, as 
 usual, the assembly did nothing adequate to ar- 
 rest the evils which they anticipated. Some of 
 the conspirators were brought before the Revo- 
 lutionary Tribunal, but their trials led to noth- 
 ing.t 
 
 The Jacobins were for a moment disconcerted 
 by the failure of this conspiracy, but y^r^^ ;„ l^ 
 the war in La Vendee, which broke Vendee 
 out about this period, and rapidly made breais out. 
 
 * Mig., i., 248, 249. Th., iv., 66. t Th., iv., i 
 X Mig., i., 252. Th., iv., 78. Lac, ii., 64. 
 
206 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IX. 
 
 t.he most alarming progress, soon reinvested them 
 with their t'ornier ascendency over the populace. 
 The peculiar circuni.st;inces of thi.s di.strict, its 
 simple manners, patriarchal habits, remote sit- 
 uation, and resident proprietors, rendered it the 
 natural centre of the Royalist spirit, which the 
 • ■xecution of Louis had roused to the highest de- 
 gree throughout all France. The nobles and 
 clergy, not having emigrated from its provinces, 
 were then in sulhcient force to counterbalance 
 the indueuce of the towns, and raise the standard 
 of revolt. The two most powerful passions of 
 the human mind, religious fanaticism and popu- 
 lar ambition, were rapidly brought into collis- 
 ion ; a wai- of extermination was the jesult, and 
 a million of Frenchmen perisiied in the strife of 
 tiie factions contending for dominion.* 
 
 Assailed by so many foreign and domestic 
 Vigorous mea- dangers, the convention adopted the 
 sures of the most energetic measures, and the 
 conveutiun. Jacobins resorted to their usual 
 means to agitate and sway the public mind. 
 The powers of the R,evolutionary I'ribunal were 
 augmented ; instead of proceeding on a decree of 
 the convention as the waiTant for judging of an 
 accused person, it was empowered to a-ccuse and 
 judge at the same time. All the Sans Culottes 
 were ordered to be armed with a pike and a fusil 
 at the expense of the opulent classes ; a forced 
 loan was exacted from those persons possessed 
 of any property, and Revolutionary taxes levied 
 in every department, according to the pleasure 
 Off the Revolutionary commissioners. The com- 
 mune of Paris demanded the imposition of a 
 maximum on the price of provisions — a demand 
 certain of popularity with the lower orders, and 
 the refusal of which increased their dissatisfac- 
 tion with the measures of the convention.t 
 
 Meanwhile the Democrats were not slow in 
 taking advantage of the increasing agitation of 
 the public mind to improve the great victory 
 they had recently gained by the establishment 
 of a Revolutionary Tribunal. Agitation, as usu- 
 al, was resorted to: a repast was provided for 
 the people at the Halle-au-Blfe, and the galleries 
 were filled with the partisans of the Jacobins, 
 heated with wine, and prepared to applaud ev- 
 ery extravagance of their leaders. Lindet read 
 the projct of a law for the regulation of the new 
 tribunal; it bore that it should be composed of 
 nine members, appointed by the convention, lib- 
 erated from all legal forms, authorized to con- 
 vict on any evidence, divided into two perma- 
 nent divisions, and entitled to prosecute either 
 on the requisition of the convention or of their 
 own authority, all those who, either by their 
 opinions misled the people, or by the situations 
 they occupied under the old regime, recalled the 
 usurped privileges of despots.? 
 
 When this appalling projet was read, the most 
 violent murmurs broke out on the right, 
 '^ ' ■ which was speedily drowned in the loud 
 applauses of the galleries and the left. " I would 
 ratner die," exclaimed Vergniaud, " than consent 
 to the establishment of a tribunal worse than 
 the Venetian Inquisition." " Take your choice," 
 answered Amar, "between such a measure and 
 an insurrection." " My inclination for revolu- 
 tionary power," said Cambon, "is suthciently 
 known ; but if the people may be deceived in 
 their elections, are not we equally likely to be 
 mistaken in the choice we make of the judges'] 
 
 and, if so, what insupportable tyrants shall we 
 then have created for ourselves !" The tumitlt 
 became frightful; the evening approached; the 
 assembly, worn out with exertion, were yielding 
 to violence ; the members of the Plain were be- 
 ginning to retire, and the Jacobins loudly calling 
 for a decision by open vote, when Feraud ex- 
 claimed, " Yes, let us give our votes publicly, in 
 order that we may make known to the world the 
 men who would assassLnate innocence under 
 cover of the law." This bold apostrophe recall- 
 ed the yielding centre to their post ; and, contra- 
 ry to all expectation, it was resolved "that the 
 trials should take place by jury; that the ju- 
 rors should be chosen from the departments, 
 and that they should be named by the conven- 
 tion."* 
 
 After this rtnexpected success, the GirondL^ts 
 proposed that the assembly should adjourn lor 
 an hour; but Danton, who was fearful lest the 
 influence of terror and agitation should subside 
 even in that short interval, raised his powerful 
 voice. " I summon," said he, in a voice of thun- 
 der, " all good citizens to take their places. We 
 must instantly terminate the formation of these 
 laws, destined to strike terror into the internal 
 enemies of the Revolution. The}'- must be ar- 
 bitrary, because they cannot be precise; because, 
 how terrible soever they may be, they are pref- 
 erable to those popular executions which now, 
 as in September, would be the consequence of 
 any delay in the execution of justice. After 
 having organized this tribunal, we must organize 
 an energetic executive power, which may be in 
 immediate contact with you, and put at your 
 disposal all yoitr resources in men and money. 
 Let us profit by the errors of our predecessors, 
 and do that which the Legislative Assembly ha.s 
 not ventured to do; there is no medium be- 
 tween ordinary forms and a Revolutionary Tri- 
 bunal. Let us be terrible, to prevent the people 
 from becoming so : let us organize a tribunal, 
 not which shall do good — that is impossible ; but 
 which shall do the least evil that is possible, to 
 the eftect that the sword of the law may descend 
 upon all its enemies. To-day, then, let txs com- 
 plete the Revolutionary Tribunal ; to-morrow, the 
 executive power; and the day after, the depart- 
 ure of our commissioners for the departments. 
 Calumniate me if you will, but let my raeraoiy 
 perish provided the Republic is saved. "t The 
 as.sembly, overwhelmed by terror, invested the 
 new tribimal with the despotic powers which 
 were afterward exercised with such ruinoits ef- 
 fect on most of its own members.; 
 
 No sooner was the arrest of the national cora- 
 
 * L.1C., ii., 63, 64. Mig.,i., 252,253. 
 t Th., jv., 70. 
 
 t Lac, ii.,65, 66 
 
 * Th., iv., 71, 72. 
 
 t Hist, de la Conv. Lac, ii., 202 ; iv., 72, 73. Hist, de 
 la Conv., ii., 209, 210. 
 
 t The decree of the convention was in these terms ; 
 " There shall l)e estahlished at Pans an extraordinary crim- 
 inal Revolutionary Tribunal. It shall take cog-nizance of 
 every attempt against liberty, equality, the unity or indi- 
 visibility of the Republic, the internal or external security 
 of the state, of all conspiracies tending to the re-establisli- 
 ment of royalty, or hostile to the sovereignty of the people, 
 whether the accused arc public functionaries, civil or mili- 
 tary, or private individuals. Then members of the jury 
 shall be chosen by the convention ; the judges, the public 
 accuser, the two substitutes, shall be named by it ; the 
 tribunal shall decide on the opinion of the majority of the 
 jury ; the decision of the court shall be without appeal, and 
 the effects of the condemned shall be confiscated to the Re- 
 public." The Girondists laboured hard to introduce the 
 clause allowing the members of the convention to be tried 
 in that court, witli a view to the trial of Marat before it ; 
 the same clause was afterward made the means of conduct- 
 ing abiiost all of themselves to tlie scaffold.— See Ilist. de la 
 Conv., ii., 209, 210. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 207 
 
 missioners of the convention known 
 ?<"'om c!fc[ ^^ Paris, than the convention declared 
 and'colmm't- its sittings permanent, denounced Dii- 
 tee of Public mourier as a traitor, fixed a price on 
 Safety ciea- jjij; head, bani.shed the Duke of Or- 
 ^''^' leans and all the Bourbons, and cre- 
 
 ated the famous CoMMiTTKK of Public Safety, 
 destined to complete tlie crimes and destroy 
 the authors of the Revolution.* Though the 
 Girondists concurred in these measures as warm- 
 ly as the Jacobins, yet they were accused of a 
 .secret leaning towards the rebellious general, 
 and this, on the alarm following his defection, 
 became a powerful engine in the hands of their 
 adversaries. Robespierre accused by name Bris- 
 sot, Guadct, Vergniaud, Petion, and Gensonne 
 in the convention, while Marat denounced them 
 in the popular societies. As president of the so- 
 <uety of Jacobins, he wrote a circular to the de- 
 partments, in which he invoked " the thunder of 
 accusations and petitions against the traitors and 
 unworthy delegates who had strove to save the 
 tyrant by voting for the appeal to the people. ''t 
 
 Fouquier Tinville was the public accuser in 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal, and his name soon 
 became as terrible as that of Robespierre to all 
 France. He was born in Picardy, and exhibit- 
 ed a combination of qualities so extraordinary, 
 that, if it had not been established by undoubted 
 testimony, it would have been deemed fabulous. 
 Sombre, cruel, suspicious, the implacable ene- 
 my of merit or virtue of any kind, ever ready to 
 aggravate the sufferings of innocence, he appear- 
 ed insensible to every sentiment of compassion 
 or equity. Justice in his eyes consisted in con- 
 demning; an acquittal was the source of pro- 
 found vexation: he was never happy unless he 
 had secured the conviction of all the accused. 
 He exhibited in the pursuit of this object an ex- 
 traordinary degree of ardour : he seemed to con- 
 sider his personal credit as involved in the de- 
 cision on their guilt: their firmness and calm 
 demeanour in presence of their judges inspired 
 him with transports of rage. But, with all this 
 hatred for all that is most esteemed among men, 
 he showed himself equally insensible to the at- 
 tractions of fortune or the sweetnesses of do- 
 mestic life. He required no species of recrea- 
 tion: women, the pleasures of the table, of the 
 theatre, were alike indifferent to him. Sober 
 and sparing in diet, he never indulged in bac- 
 chanalian excess, excepting when with the judg- 
 es of the Revolutionary Tribunal he celebrated 
 what they termed a. feu defik: that was, a sitting 
 at which all the accused were condemned : he 
 then gave way to intemperance. His power of 
 undergoing fatigue was unbounded : he was sel- 
 dom to be seen at the clubs or any public meet- 
 ing: the Revolutionary Tribunal was the theatre 
 of all his exertions. The sole recreation which 
 he allowed himself -was to behold his victims 
 perish on the scaffold: he confessed that that 
 s*pectacle had great attractions. He might, du- 
 ring the period of his power, have amassed an 
 
 * The decree establishing the Committee of Public Safety 
 was in these terms : " The committee shall be composed of 
 twenty-five members ; it shall be charged with the prepara- 
 tion of laws, and all measures, exterior and interior, neces- 
 sary for the safety of the Republic. The committee shall 
 call to its meetings all the ministers composing the execu- 
 tive authority at least twice a week. It shall render an 
 account to the convention whenever required to do so, and 
 inform it weekly of the state of the Republic, and of that 
 of all matters connected with it which should be divulged." 
 —See Hist, de la Conv., ii., 227. 
 
 t Mig., i., 258 259. Th., vr., 131, 145. 
 
 immense fortune : he remained to the la.sl poor, 
 and his wife is said to have died of famine. His 
 lodgings were destitute of every comfort: their 
 whole furniture after his death did not .sell for 
 twenty pounds. No seduction could influence 
 him: he was literally a bar of iron against all 
 the ordinary desii'es of men. Ntuhing roused 
 his mind but the prospect of inflicting death, and 
 then his animation was such that liis counte- 
 nance became radiant and expressive.* 
 
 The infatuation of the Girondists hourly in- 
 creased. The city of Paris was daily becoming 
 more menacing, at least in its active and influ- 
 ential masses, and yet they blindly reckoned on 
 their inviolability under the Constitution, which 
 they had so manifestly violated in the case of 
 the king. This was the more extraordinary, as 
 Robespierre began now openly to act on that 
 plan, which he never ceased to pursue till all his 
 enemies were destroyed. This design consisted, 
 in the first instance, in getting quit of the Giron- 
 dists by means of tlie Mountain ; and, secondly, 
 in destroying by its influence all persons of the 
 ancient regime, who, either by their rank, their 
 fortune, or their virtues, were fitted to give him 
 any umbrage. He required to level all the heads 
 which rose above his own, and among these he 
 had already marked out Philippe Egalite as his 
 first victim, the queen as the next ; and having 
 accomplished these objects, his last object was 
 to decimate the Mountain itself, so that no rival 
 who could give him disquietude should be per- 
 mitted to exist. At the same time, lie persecu- 
 ted with relentless vigour all the military leaders 
 who had acquired any eminence, being well 
 aware it was among them that his most formid- 
 able rival was likely to arise. Inconceivable as 
 such a plan appears, nothing is more certain than 
 that it existed, and the event will show how very 
 near it was being carried into complete execu- 
 tion.t 
 
 The infatuation of the Girondists was chiefly 
 founded on the immense majority by which they 
 had recently secured the election of Petion as 
 mayor of Paris, in opposition both to Robes- 
 pierre and Danton. The former had only 23 
 votes, the latter 11, while Petion had 14,000. It 
 is not surprising that with this majority they 
 conceived themselves in a situation to brave thie 
 populace. The event soon showed on what fal- 
 lacious grounds their reliance was placed.! 
 
 The convention felt the necessity of making 
 an effort to resist the inflammatory Girondists 
 proceedings of the Jacobins. By a send Marat 
 united effort of the Girondists and totheRevolu- 
 neutral party, Marat was sent for tri- t'onary Tri- 
 al to the Revolutionary Tribunal, on ""^ ' 
 the charge of having instigated the people to de- 
 mand the punishment of the national repre- 
 sentatives. This was the first instance of the 
 inviolability of the convention being broken 
 through, and, as such, it afforded an unfortunate 
 precedent, which the sanguinary party were not 
 slow in following. Yet the accusation of Marat 
 was in reality no violation of the privileges of 
 the assembly. He was sent to the Revolution- 
 ary Tribunal, not for what he said or did in the 
 convention, but for a circular addressed to the 
 departments, as president of the Jacobin club; 
 and it was never supposed that the members of 
 the assembly were privileged to commit treason 
 without its walls. § 
 
 The Jaco bins lost no time in adopting meas- 
 
 * Hist, de la Conv., ii. 215, 217. t lb., ii., 192. < 
 
 { lb., i., 130. ♦ Toul., ir., 339. Th., iv., 150. 
 
208 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap.IX. 
 
 Vehement wes lo Counteract this vigorous step, 
 agitatiuii to The clubs, the multitude, and the 
 counttract it. centre of insurrection, the municipal- 
 ity, \vere put in motion. The whole force ol' 
 1 f A 1 popular agitation was called forth to 
 I5t.x of Apnl. ^^^^^^ ^j, jj^gy expressed it, " that aus- 
 tere, profotmd philosoplier, Ibrmed by meditation 
 and misfortune, gifted with such profound saga- 
 city, and so great a Imowledge of the human 
 lieart, who alone penetrated the designs of trai- 
 tors on their triumphal cars at the moment when 
 the stupid vulgar were still loading them with ap- 
 plause." Pache, the mayor of Paris, appeared 
 at the bar of the assembl}', to demand, in the 
 name of iive-and-thirt)' sections, and uf the com- 
 mune, the expulsion of the leaders of the Gi- 
 ronde. The yoimg and generous Boyer Fon- 
 frede demanded to be included in the list of the 
 proscribed : an act of devotion which subsequent- 
 ly cost him his life. All the members of the 
 right and centre rose, and insisted upon being 
 joined with their colleagues in the accusation. 
 The petition was rejected, but the designs of its 
 authors were gained ; it accustomed the people 
 to the spectacle of the convention being besieged 
 by popular clamour, and impaired the majesty 
 of the legislature by exhibiting the impunity 
 with which its members might be assailed.* 
 Marat was accompanied to the Revolutionary 
 . Tribunal by the whole leaders of tlie Jac- 
 u*tt cT' ^'^"^ party. He was acquitted, and 
 ^"' ^ ' brought back in triumph to the assembly. 
 An immense multitude came with him to the 
 gates ; the leaders of the mob entered, and ex- 
 claimed, " We bring you back the brave Marat, 
 the tried friend of the people ; they will never 
 cease to espouse his cause." A sapper broke 
 off from the multitude, and exclaimed, " Marat 
 was ever the friend of the people; had his head 
 fallen, the head of the sapper would have fallen 
 with it." At these words he brandished his axe 
 in the air, amid shouts of applause from the 
 Mountain and the galleries. The mob insisted 
 upon defiling in triumph through the hall; be- 
 fore the president could consult the assembly on 
 the subject, the unruly body rushed in, bearing 
 down all opposition, and, climbing over all the 
 barriers, seated themselves in the vacant places 
 of the deputies, who retired in disgust from such 
 a scene of violence. The convention beheld in 
 silence the defeat of its measures ; the Jacobins 
 redoubled their efforts to improve the victory they 
 had gained . Its approaches were incessantly be- 
 sieged by an unruly mob, who clamoured for 
 vengeance against the ■ proscribed depitties; the 
 galleries were filled by partisans of the Jacobins, 
 who stifled the arguments of their opponents, and 
 loudly applauded the most violent proposals ; the 
 clubs at night resounded with demands of ven- 
 geance against the traitor faction.t 
 
 The Girondists now saw that there was no 
 Energetic pro- '•i™^ '^ lose in coercing the attempts 
 posal of Gua- of the Jacobins and of the munici- 
 det. IGth of pality. Guadet, in an energetic dis- 
 ^^y- course, declared, " Citizens, while 
 
 good men lament in silence the misfortunes of 
 the country, the conspirators are in motion to de- 
 stroy it. Like Cfesar, they exclaim, ' Let others 
 speak, we act.' To meet them, we must act also. 
 The evil lies in the impunity of the conspirators 
 of March 10; in the prevailing anarchy; in the 
 
 * Tout., iii., 339, S40. Mig., i., 259. Th., iv.,150. Lac, 
 11., 67. 
 
 tToul., 260. Lac.ii., 66. Mig., i., 2S0. Th., iv., 151, 
 152. 
 
 misrule of the authorities of Paris, who thirst 
 only for power and gold. There is yet time to 
 save the country, and our ovrn tarnished honour. 
 I propose instantly to annul the authorities of 
 Paris ; to replace the municipality by the presi- 
 dents of the sections; to unite the supplementary 
 members of the assembly at Bourges;' and to 
 announce this resolution to the departments by 
 extraordinary couriers." These decisive meas- 
 ures, if adopted by the assembly would have de- 
 stroyed the power of the municipality, and the 
 designs of the conspirators ; but they would have 
 at once occasioned a civil v\'ar, and, by dividing 
 the centre of action, augmented the danger of 
 foreign subjugation. The majority were influ- 
 enced by these considerations ; the separation of 
 the assembly into two divisions, one at Paris, 
 one at Bourges, seemed the immediate forerun- 
 ner of conflicting governments. Barere sup- 
 ported these opinions. " It is by union and firm- 
 ness," he said, "that you must dissipate the 
 storms which assail you ; division will acceler- 
 ate your ruin: do you imagine that, if the con- 
 spirators dissolve the convention in 
 
 the centre of its power, they will have V\"f ^^°^^' 
 ,.„ 1^ • 'i- '. -^ r-. ed, but a nom- 
 
 any difhculty m disposmg oi its rem- mission of 
 
 nant assembled at Bourges 1 I pro- twelve ap- 
 pose that we should nominate a com- pointed. May 
 mission of twelve persons, to watch 
 over the designs of the commrme, to examine 
 into the recent disorders, and arrest the persons 
 of their authors ; but never, by acceding to the 
 measure of Guadet, declare ourselves unequal to 
 combat its influence." This proposal was adopt- 
 ed by the convention, and the opportunity of de- 
 stroying the municipality lost forever.* 
 
 The Commission of Twelve, however, com- 
 menced their proceedings with vigor- 
 ous measures. A conspiracy against •General in- 
 1.1 -1 Til. »-i]4- suiTection 
 
 the majorit}^ oi the conveirtion had lor ao-am^t the 
 
 some time been openly organized in Girondists 
 
 Paris; the club of the Cordeliers was and conven- 
 
 the centre of the movement, and an !',""' ^'*' 
 
 .^^ ' . , ^ Mav. 
 
 insurrectionary committee sat night 
 
 and day. The public fervour soon demanded 
 more than the mere proscription of t!ie thirty 
 deputies ; three hundred were required. Varlet 
 had openly proposed a plan for the insurrection, 
 which v.'as discussed amid furious cries at the 
 Cordeliers, and the execution of the design fixed 
 for the 22d of May. It was agreed that the arm- 
 ed multitude should proceed to the hall of the 
 convention, v\'ith the Rights of Man veiled by 
 crape, to seize and expel all the members who 
 had belonged to the Constituent or Legislative As- 
 semblies, turn out the mini.stry, and destro)' all 
 who bore the name of Bourbon.t ^ 
 
 The committee speedily obtained evidence of 
 this conspiracy, and arrested one of its leaders, 
 Hebert, the author of an obscene and revolting 
 Revolutionary journal, entitled the " Pere Du- 
 chesne," which had acquired immense circulation 
 among the followers of the municipality. That 
 turbulent body instantly put itself in a state of 
 insurrection, declared its sitting permanent, and 
 invited the people to raise the standard of revolt. 
 Some of the most violent sections followed their 
 example ; tho.se who held out for the a.ssembly 
 were besieged by clamorous bands of armed 
 men. The club of the Jacobins, of the Cordeliers, 
 of the Revolutionary Sections, sat day and night ; 
 the agitation of Paris ro.se to the highest pitch.t 
 
 * Toul., iii.. 261. Mig., i., 260, 261. Th., iv., 198. 
 
 t Th., iv., 206. 
 
 t Lac., ii., 67, 68. Mig., i., 261, 262. Th., iv., 210, 211. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 209 
 
 On the 25th of May, a furious multitude assem- 
 25th M ^^^"^ round the hall of the convention, and 
 
 ah May. ^ (jeputation appeared at the bar, de- 
 manding, in the most threatening terms, the sup- 
 pression of the Commission of 'I'welve, and im- 
 mediate liberation of Hebert, the imprisoned 
 member of the magistracy ; some even went the 
 length of insisting that the commission should im- 
 mediately be sent to the Revolutionary Tribunal. 
 Isnard, president of the assembly, a courageous 
 and eloquent Girondist, replied, " Listen to my 
 words : if ever the convention is exposed to dan- 
 ger — if another of those insurrections, which have 
 recurred so frequentl}' since the lOth of March, 
 breaks out, and the convention is outraged by an 
 anned faction, France Mill rise as one man to 
 avenge our cause, Paris will be destroyed, and 
 soon the stranger will inquire on Avhich bank of 
 the Seine Paris stood."* 
 
 This indignant repl)^ produced, at the moment, 
 a great impression ; but crowds of subsequent 
 petitioners, with Danton at their head, quickly 
 appeared, and restored confidence to the con- 
 spirators. Upon the continued refusal of Isnard 
 to liberate Hebert, crowds from the benches of 
 the Mountain rose to drag him from his seat ; the 
 Girondists assembled to defend him. In the 
 midst of the tumult, Danton, in a voice of thun- 
 der, exclaimed, " So much impudence is beyond 
 endurance ; we will resist you ; let there be no 
 longer any truce between the Mountain and the 
 base men who wished to sav^e the tyrant."t 
 
 The deputies from the mimicipality retired on 
 that occasion without having obtained what they 
 desired ; but they were resolved instantly to pro- 
 ceed to insurrection. All the remainder of the 
 25th and the whole of the 26th was spent in agi- 
 tation, and exciting the people by the most in- 
 flammatory harangues. Such was the success 
 of their efforts, that, by the morning of the 27th, 
 eiglit-and-twenty sections were assembled to peti- 
 tion for the liberation of Hebert. The commis- 
 .sion of twelve could only rely on the support of 
 the armed force of three sections; but they has- 
 tened, on the first summons, to the support of 
 the convention, and ranged themselves, with their 
 arms and artillery, round the hall. But an im- 
 mense multitude crowded round their ranks; 
 cries of "Death to the Girondists!" resounded 
 on all sides, and the hearts even of the most reso- 
 lute began to quail under the fury and menacing 
 conduct of the people.: 
 
 The Girondists with difficulty maintained their 
 .^ ground against the Jacobins within 
 
 test mTeas-' ^^e assembly, and the furious mul- 
 sembly. Report titude who besieged its walls, when 
 ofGarat,derla- Garat, the minister of the interior, 
 ring Paris trail- entered and deprived them of their 
 ''"' ■ last resource, the necessity of un- 
 
 bending firmness. When called upon to report 
 upon the state of Paris, he declared " that he saw 
 no appearance of a conspiracy ; that he had met 
 with nothing but respect from the crowd which 
 surrounded the assembly ; and that the only per- 
 fidious design which he believed existed, was to di- 
 vide, by the dread of chimerical dangers, two par- 
 ties, equally desirous of promoting the public wel- 
 fare." In making this report, Garat had been de- 
 ceived by Pache, mayor of Paris, a hypocritical 
 Jacobin of the most dangerous character. France 
 had reason then to lament the retirement of the finn 
 and sagacious Roland from his important office.! 
 
 » Lac, ii., 68, 69. Mi;?., i., 262. Th., iv., 213. 
 t Mig.. i., 262. Lac, ii., 69. I Th.. 214, 215. 
 
 (i Lac, ii., 69. Mig., i., 263. Th., ii., 217, 218. 
 Vol. I.— D d 
 
 Struck dumb by this extraordinary and unex- 
 pected report, which appeared accountable only 
 on the defection of the minister of the interior, 
 the Girondists, for the most part, withdrew from 
 the assembly, and the courageous Isnard was re- 
 placed in the president's chair by Herault de 
 Sechelles. Yielding to the clamour which be- 
 sieged the legislature, he declared "the force of 
 reason and of the people are the same thing ; you 
 demand a magistrate in detention, the representa- 
 tives of the people restore him to you." The 
 motion was then put, that the Commission of 
 Twelve should be abolished, and Hebert set at 
 liberty; it was carried at midnight, amid shouts 
 of triumph from the mob, who constituted the 
 majority, by climbing over the rails, and voting on 
 the benches of the Mountain with the Jacobins.* 
 Ashamed of the con.sequences of their untime- 
 ly desertion of the convention, the Girondists, on 
 the following day, assembled in force and re- 
 versed the decree, extorted by force on the pre- 
 ceding evening. Lanjuinais in an especial man- 
 ner distinguished himself in this debate, which 
 was tumultuous and menacing to the very last 
 degree. "Above fifty thousand citi- „„ „ 
 zens," said he, "have already been im- ^"'^'^^y- 
 prisoned in the departments by orders of your 
 commissioners ; more arbitrary arrests have ta- 
 ken place than under the old rdgimc in a whole 
 century; and you have excited'all this tumult, 
 because we have put into custody two or three 
 individuals who openly proclaimed murder and 
 pillage. Your commissaries are proconsuls, who 
 act for from you and without your knowledge, 
 and your whole jealousy is centred on the com- 
 mission placed under your eyes, and subject to 
 your immediate control. On Sunday last it was 
 proposed at the Jacobins to have a general mas- 
 sacre in Paris ; to-night the same proposal is to 
 be brought forward at the Cordeliers, and the 
 electoral club of the EA'eche ; the proofs of the 
 conspiracy are ready; we offer them to you, and 
 yet 5'ou hesitate ; you protect only assassins 
 covered with blood." At these words the Mount- 
 ain drowned the voice of the speaker, and Le- 
 gendre threatened to throw him headlong from 
 the tribune. But the intrepid Lanjuinais kept 
 his ground; and the decree of the preceding day 
 was reversed by a maiorit}"^ of fifty-one. The 
 Jacobins instantly broke out into the most furi- 
 ous exclamation. " Yesterday," said Danton, 
 " you did an act of justice ; beware of departing 
 from its example; if you persist in asserting the 
 powers you have usurped ; if arbitrary impris- 
 onments continue ; if the public magistrates are 
 not restored to their functions, after having shown 
 that we surpass our enemies in moderation and 
 wisdom, we will show that we surpass them in 
 audacity and revolutionary vigour." " You have 
 violated the ' Rights of Man,' " said Collot d'Her- 
 bois ; " tremble ! we are about to follow your ex- 
 ample ; they shall not serve as a shield to tyrants. 
 Throw a veil over the statue of Liberty, so im- 
 pudently placed in the midst of your hall ; we 
 will not incur the guilt of any longer restraining 
 the indignation of the people."t 
 
 The agitation, which had begim to subside 
 after the victory' of the preceding even- Renewal of 
 ing, was renewed with redoubled vio- the insur- 
 lence on the reversal of the decree, ruction oa 
 Robespierre, Marat, Danton, Chau- '"''^ 3'^'- 
 mette, and Pache immediately commenced the 
 
 * Lac, ii., 69. Mig., i., 263. Th„ iv., 220, 22L 
 t Th., iv., 223, 224. 
 
210 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IX. 
 
 organization of a new revolt ; the 29th was em- 
 ployed for arranging the forces. On the 30th, 
 the members of the electoral body, the commis- 
 sioners of the clubs, the deputies tif the sections, 
 declared themselves in insurrection ; Henriot 
 received the coiimiand of the armed force ; and 
 the Sans Culottes were promised forty sous a 
 day while under arms. These arrangements be- 
 ing made, the tocsin sounded, the generale beat 
 at daybreak on the morning of the 31st, and the 
 forces of the fauxbourgs marched to the Tuil- 
 eries, where the convention was assembled.* 
 
 On this occasion the first symptom appeared 
 of a division between Danton and Robespierre 
 and the more furious Jacobins : the former was 
 desirous of procuring the abolition of the com- 
 mittee of twelve, but not of an outrage on the 
 legislature ; the latter wished to overturn the 
 convention by the force of the municipality. 
 But he was already passed in the career of rev- 
 olution by more desperate insurrectionists : a 
 general revolt had been resolved on by the cen- 
 tral committee of insurrection ; a moral insur- 
 rection, as they termed it, unaccompanied by 
 pillage or violence, but with such an appalling 
 display of physical force as should render resist- 
 ance impossible. Forty-eight sections met, and 
 publicly announced their determination to raise 
 the standard of revolt; and by daybreak on the 
 31st, all Paris was in arms.t 
 
 The National Guard and the insurgent forces 
 were at first timid and uncertain whose orders 
 to obey, and for what object they were called out. 
 The terrible cannoniers, the janizaries of the 
 Revolution, took the lead. The cry "Vive la 
 Montagne ! Perissent les Girondins !" broke 
 from their ranks, and revealed the secret of the 
 day ; they fixed the wavering by the assumption 
 of the lead. It was soon discovered that the ob- 
 ject was to present a petition, supported by an 
 armed force, to the assembly, demanding the 
 proscription of the twenty-two leaders of the Gi- 
 ronde, the suppression of the Committee of 
 Twelve, and the imposition of a maximum on 
 the price of bread.j 
 
 In the Fauxbourg St. Antoine, the old centre 
 Vast forces or- of insurrections, the revolt assumed 
 ganizedinthe a more disorderly character. Pil- 
 fauxbourgs. jggg^ immediate rapine and disorder, 
 could alone rouse its immense population. The 
 commune excited their cupidity by proposing to 
 march to the Palais Royal, whose shopkeepers 
 were the richest in Paris. "Arm yourselves," 
 exclaimed the agents of the municipality; " the 
 counter revolution is at hand ; at the Palais 
 Royal they are at this moment crj-ing ' Vive le 
 Roi,' and trampling under foot the national col- 
 ours; all its innabitants are accomplices in the 
 plot: march to the Palais Royal, and thence to 
 the convention." But the inhabitants of that 
 district were prepared for their defence ; the 
 gates of the palace were shut, and artillerj^ pla- 
 ced in the avenues which led to them. When 
 the immense forest of pikes began to debouche 
 from the side of the fauxbourgs, the caimoniers 
 stood with lighted matches to their pieces ; and 
 the wave of insurrection rolled aside to the more 
 defenceless quarter of the legislature.§ 
 
 The convention had early assembled at the 
 sound of the tocsin; the chiefs of the Girondists, 
 notwithstanding the earnest entreaties of their 
 
 * Mig., i., 265. Lac, ii., 70, 71. Th.,iv., 225, 233. 
 t Th., iv., 236,237. 
 
 t Lac, ii., 71. Mig., i., 265. Th., iv., 238, 239. 
 I) Lac, ii., 72. Th., iv., 247. 
 
 friends, all repaired to the post of danger. They 
 had passed the night in the house of a common 
 friend, assembled together armed, and resolved 
 to sell their lives dearly ; but at daybreak they 
 left their asylum, and took their seats in the coii- 
 vention as the tocsin was sounding. Garat per- 
 sisted in maintaining that there was nothing to 
 fear ; that a 'moral insurrection alone was in con- 
 templation. Pache, with hypocritical zeal, de- 
 clared that he had doubled the guards of the con- 
 vention, and forbid the cannon of alarm to be 
 discharged. At that instant the somid of the 
 artilleiy was heard; the agitation of the assem- 
 bly immediately became extreme. " I demand," 
 said Thuriot, " that the Commission of Twelve be 
 instantly dissolved." "And I," said Tallien, 
 " that the sword of the law strike the conspira- 
 tors in the bosom of the convention." The Gi- 
 rondists insisted that Henriot, the commander- 
 in-chief, should be called to the bar, for sounding 
 the cannon of alarm without the authority of the 
 convention. " If a combat commences," said 
 Vergniaud, " whatever be its result, it will ruin 
 the Republic. Let all the members swear to die 
 at their posts." They all took the oath : in a few 
 hours it was forgotten. " Dissolve the Commis- 
 sion of Twelve," said Danton, with his tremen- 
 dous voice ; " the cannon has soimded. If you 
 have any political discretion, you will take ad- 
 vantage of the public agitation to furnish you 
 with an excuse for retracing your steps and re- 
 gaining your lost popularity. I address myself 
 to those deputies who have some regard to the 
 situation in which they are placed, and not to 
 those insane mortals who listen to nothing but 
 their passions. Hesitate no longer, therefore, to 
 satisfy the people." "What people V exclaim- 
 ed Vergniaud. " That people," replied Danton, 
 " that immense body, which is our advanced 
 guard ; which hates alike every species of tyr- 
 anny, and that base moderation which would 
 speedily bring it back. Hasten, then, to satisfy 
 them ; save them from the aristocrats ; save 
 them from their own anger ; and if the move- 
 ment should continue when this is done, Paris 
 will soon annihilate the factions who disturb its 
 tranquillity.* 
 
 The Tuileries were blockaded by the multi- 
 tude ; their presence, and the vociferous ™ 
 language of the petitioners, who were round and 
 successively admitted to the bar of the assail the 
 assembly, encouraged the Jacobins to conven- 
 attempt the instant destruction of their '"'"' 
 opponents. Barere and the Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety proposed as a compromise that the 
 Commission of Twelve should be dissolved; 
 Robespierre and his associates urged the imme- 
 diate anest of the Girondists: "Citizens," said 
 he, " let us not lose our time in vain clamours 
 and insignificant propositions. This day is per- 
 haps the last of the struggles of freedom against 
 tyrarmy." " Move, then," exclaimed Vergni- 
 aud. " Yes," said he, " I move, and my motion 
 is against you ! Against you, who, after the 
 revolution of August 10, strove to lead to the 
 scaffold the men who achieved it; against you, 
 who have never ceased to urge measures fatal to 
 the prosperity of Paris ; against you, who en- 
 deavoured to save the tyrant ; against you, who 
 have conspired with Dumourier to overthrow 
 the Republic ; against you, who have unrelent- 
 ingly attacked those whose heads Dumourier 
 demanded; against you, whose criminal ven- 
 
 ♦ Mig., i., 266. Th., iv., 234, 240, 243. Lac, ii., 73. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 211 
 
 ^eance has provoked the cries of indignation, 
 which you now reproach as a crime to those 
 who have suffered from it. I move the immedi- 
 ate accusation of those who have conspired with 
 Dumourier, and are specified in the petitions of 
 the people." The as.sembly, moved by the vio- 
 lence with which they were surrounded, deemed 
 it the most prudent course to adopt the proposal 
 of Barere and the committee for the suppres- 
 sion of the commission, without the violent pro- 
 posals of the Jacobins ; a ruinous precedent of 
 submission to popular violence, which soon 
 brought about their total subjugation.* 
 
 But the Revolutionists had no intention of 
 stopping half way in their career of violence. 
 On the evening of the 3lst, Billaud Varennes 
 declared in the club of the Jacobins " that they 
 had only half done their work ; it must be in- 
 stantly completed, before the people have time to 
 cool in their ardour." " Be assured," said Bour- 
 don d' rOise, "that all those who wish to estab- 
 lish a burgage aristocracy will soon begin to re- 
 flect on their proceedings. Already they ask, 
 when urged to put themselves in insun'ection. 
 Against whom are we to revolt 1 The aristocra- 
 cy is destroyed, the clergy are destroyed. Who 
 then are our oppressors 1" Lest any such reac- 
 tion should take place, they resolved to keep the 
 people continually ifi agitation. The 1st of June 
 was devoted to completing the preparations ; in 
 the evening, Marat himself mounted the steeple 
 of the Hotel de Ville, and sounded the tocsin. 
 The generale beat through the night, and Paris 
 was under arms by daybreak on the morning of 
 the 2d.t 
 
 On this, the last day that they were to meet in 
 this world, the Girondists dined together to de- 
 liberate on the means of defence which yet re- 
 mained in the desperate state of their fortunes. 
 Their opinions, as usual, were much divided. 
 Some thought that they should remain firm at 
 their posts, and die on their curule chairs, de- 
 fending to the last extremity the sacred charac- 
 ter with which they were invested. Petion, Bu- 
 zot, and Gensonne, supported that mournful and 
 magnanimous resolution. Barbarous, consult- 
 ing only his impetuous courage, was desirous to 
 brave his enemies by his presence in the con- 
 vention. Others, among whom were Louvet, 
 strenuously maintained that they should instant- 
 ly abandon the convention, where their deliber- 
 ations were no longer free, and the majoritvwere 
 intimidated by the daggers of the Jacobins, and 
 retire each into his own department, to return to 
 Paris with such a force as should avenge the 
 cause of the national representation. The de- 
 liberation was still going forward when the 
 clang of the toscin and the rolling of the drums 
 warned them that the insurrection had com- 
 menced, and they broke up without having 
 come to any determination.? 
 
 At eight o'clock Henriot put himself at the 
 head of the immense columns of armed men a.s- 
 sembled round the Hotel de Ville, presented 
 himself before the council of the municipality, 
 and declared, in the name of the insurgent peo- 
 ple, that they would not lay down their arms till 
 they had obtained the arrest of the obnoxious 
 deputies. 
 
 The forces assembled on this occasion were 
 most formidable. One hundred and sixty pieces 
 
 * Mig., i., 268. Lac, ii., 73. Tout., iii., 413. Th., iv., 
 251 252. 
 t'Mig., i., 269. Th., iv., 258, 259. Tout., iu., 414. 
 t Th., jv., 260. 
 
 of cannon, with tumbrils, and wagons of balls 
 complete, furnaces to heat them red-hot, lighted 
 matches, and drawn swords in the hands of the 
 gunners, resembled rather the preparations for 
 the siege of a powerful fortress than demonstra- 
 tions against a pacific legislature. In addition 
 to this, several battalions, who had marched that 
 morning for La Vendee, received counter orders 
 and re-entered Paris in a state of great irritation! 
 They were instantly supplied with assignats, 
 worth five francs each, and ranged themselves 
 round Hennot, ready to execute his commands 
 even against the convention. After haranguing 
 them in the Place de Grfeve, he proceeded to the 
 other insurgents, put himself at their head, and 
 marched to the Carrousel. By ten o'clock the 
 whole avenues to the Tuileries were blockaded 
 by dense columns and artillery ; and eighty thou- 
 sand armed men surrounded the defenceless rep- 
 re.sentatives of the people.* 
 
 Few only of the proscribed deputies were 
 present at this meeting. The intrep- Vehement de- 
 id Lanjumais was among the num- bate in the as- 
 ber ; from the tribune he drew a sembly. 
 picture, in true and frightful colours, of the state 
 of the assembly, deliberating for three days un- 
 der the poniards of assassins, threatened without 
 by a furious multitude, domineered within by a 
 faction, who wielded at will its violence, de- 
 scending from degradation to degradation', re- 
 warded for its condescension with arrogance for 
 its submission by outrage. "As long as I'am 
 permitted to raise my voice in this place," said 
 he, " I shall never suffer the national representa- 
 tion to be degraded in my person. Hitherto you 
 have done nothing ; you have only suffered ; you 
 have sanctioned everything required of you. An 
 insurrection assembles and names a committee 
 to organize a revolt, with a commander of the 
 armed force to direct it ; and you tolerate the in- 
 surrection, the committee, the commander." At 
 these words the cries of the Mountain dro-svned 
 his voice, and the Jacobins rushed forward to 
 drag him from the tribune ; but he held fast, 
 and the president at length succeeded in resto- 
 ring silence. " I demand," he concluded, " that 
 all the Revolutionary authorities of Paris be in- 
 stantly dissolved ; that everything done during the 
 last three days be annulled ; that all who arrogate 
 to themselves an illegal authority be declared out 
 of the pale of the law." He had hardly conclu- 
 ded, when the insurgent petitioners entered, and 
 demanded his own arrest, and that of the other 
 Girondists. Their language was brief and de- 
 cisive. " The citizens of Paris," said they, 
 " have been four days under arms; for four days 
 they have demanded from their mandatories re- 
 dress of their rights so scandalou.sly violated; 
 and for four days their mandatories have done 
 nothing to satisfy them. The conspirators muse 
 instantly be placed under arrest : You must in- 
 stantly save the people, or they will take their 
 safety into their owti hands." " Save the peo- 
 ple," exclaimed the Jacobins ; " save your col- 
 leagues by agreeing to their provisional arrest." 
 Barere and the neutral party urged the proscribed 
 deputies to have the generosity to give in their 
 resignations in order to tranquillize the public 
 mind. Isnard, Lanthenas, and others, complied 
 with the request; Lanjuinais positively refu.sed. 
 " Hitherto," said he, " I have shown some cour- 
 age ; I will not fail at the last extremity : you need 
 not expect from me either suspension or resigna- 
 
 * Miff., i., 269. Tout., iii., 415, 424. Th., iv., 261, 1 
 
212 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IX. 
 
 tion." Being violently interrupted by the left, 
 he added, " When the ancienis prepared a sacri- 
 fice, ihey crowned the victim with flowers and 
 garlands when they conducted him to the altar; 
 the priest sacrificed him, but added not insult or 
 injury. But you, more cruel than they, commit 
 outrages on the victim who is making no efibrts 
 to avert his fate." " I have sworn to die at my 
 post," said Barbaroux; "I will keep my oath. 
 Bend, if you please, before the raunicipalit}^, you 
 who refused to arrest their wickedness, or rather 
 imitate us, whom their fury immediately de- 
 mands : wait, and brave their fury. You may 
 compel me to sink imder their daggers— you 
 .shall not make me fall at their feet."* 
 
 While the assembly was in the utmost agita- 
 They move tation, and swayed alternately by ter- 
 . ut of the ror and admiration, Lacroix, an inti- 
 hall. mate friend of Danton's, entered with a 
 
 haggard air, and announced that he had been 
 stopped at the gate, and that the convention was 
 imprisoned within its walls. The secret of the 
 revolt became now evident; it was not conduct- 
 ed by Danton and the Mountain, but by Robes- 
 pierre, Marat, and the municipality. " We 
 must instantly avenge," said Danton, " this out- 
 rage on the national representation : let us go forth 
 and awe the rebels by the majesty of the legisla- 
 ture." Headed b}' its president, the convention 
 set out, and moved in a body, with the signs of 
 distress, to the principal gate leading to the Place 
 de Carrousel. They were there met by Henriot 
 on horseback, with his sword in his hand, at the 
 head of the most devoted battalions of the faux- 
 bourgs. " What do the people demand V said 
 But are driv- ^^^ president, Herault de Sechelles ; 
 enbackbythe "the convention is occupied with 
 armed bands, nothing but their welfare." " He- 
 rault," replied Henriot, " the people are not to 
 be deceived with fine words; they demand that 
 four-and-twenty culpable deputies be given up." 
 " Demand rather that we should be given up," 
 exclaimed those who surrounded the president. 
 '•Cannoniers! to 3^0 ur pieces!" replied Henroit. 
 Two guns, charged with grapeshot, were pointed 
 against the assembly, which involuntarily fell 
 back, and, after in vain attempting to find the 
 means of escape at the other gates of the garden, 
 returned in dismay to the hall. Marat followed 
 them, at the head of a body of brigands. " I or- 
 der you, in the name of the people, to enter, to de- 
 liberate, and to obey."t 
 
 When the members were seated, Couthon rose. 
 
 t;,„ ti,i,f,. r i "You have now had convincing evi- 
 1 lie tmrty tji- ,1.11/^1 ^ • 
 
 rondists are dence, said he, " that the convention 
 given up and is perfectly free ; the indignation of 
 imprisoned. (jjg people is only pointed against 
 certain unworthy members : we are surrounded 
 by their homage and affection : let us obey alike 
 our own conscience and their wishes. I pro- 
 pose that Lanjuinais, Vergniaud, Sillen,', Gen- 
 sonne, Le Hardi, Guadet, Petion, Brissot, Boi- 
 leau, Birotteau, Valaze, Gomaise, Bertrand, Gar- 
 dieu, Keverlegan, Mellevant, Bergoien, Barba- 
 roux, Ledon, Buzot, Lasource, Rabaut, Salles, 
 Chambon, Gorsas, Grangeneuve, Le Sage, Vi- 
 gie, Louvet, and Henri Lariviere, be immedi- 
 ately put under arrest." AVith the dagger at 
 their throats, the convention passed the decree : 
 a large body had the courage to protest against 
 the violence, and refuse to vote. This suicidal 
 measure was carried bv the sole vote of the 
 
 * Mi?., i., 270, 271. Lac., ii., 72, 73. Tout., iii., 430, 
 434. Th., iv., 264, 265. 
 t Lac, ii., 76, 77. Mig., i., 268, 272. Th., iv., 268, 270. 
 
 Mountain and a few adlierents : the great major- 
 ity refused to have any share in it. The multi- 
 tude gave tumultuous cheers and dispersed ; 
 their victory was complete ; the municipality of 
 Paris had overthrown the National Assembly.* 
 
 The political career of the Girondists was ter- 
 minated by this day ; thenceforward they were 
 known only as individuals, by their heroic con- 
 duct in adversity and death. Their strife with 
 the Jacobins was a long .struggle between two 
 classes, who invariably succeed each other in 
 the lead of revolutionary convulsions. The 
 rash and reckless, but able and generous party, 
 which trusted to the force of reason in popular 
 assemblies, perished because the)^ strove to ar- 
 rest the torrent they had let loose, to avenge the 
 massacres of September, avoid the execution of 
 the king, resist the institution of the Revolution- 
 ary Tribunal, and the Committee of Public Safe- 
 ty. With the excitement of more vehement pas- 
 sions, with the approach of more pressing dan- 
 gers, with the advent of times when moderation 
 seemed a crime, they expired. Thereafter, when 
 every legal form was violated, every appeal 
 against violence stifled by the imprisonment of 
 the Girondists, democratic despotism marched in 
 its career without an obstacle, and the terrible 
 dictatorship, composed of the Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety and the RevolutiSnary Tribunal, was 
 erected in resistless sovereignty.t 
 
 The ])roscribed members were at first put un- 
 der arrest in their own houses. Sev- Many escape 
 eral found the means of escape be- into the prov- 
 fore the order for their imprison- '"c<^s- 
 ment was issued. Barbaroux, Petion, Lanjui- 
 nais, Henri Lariviere, arrived at Caen, in Nor- 
 mandy, where a feeble attempt at resistance to 
 the usui-ped authority of the Parisian mob was 
 made, which speedily yielded to the eflbrts of the 
 Jacobin emissaries. Louvet escaped to Bour- 
 deaux, and subsequently wandered for months 
 among the forests and caverns of the Jura, where 
 he employed his hours of solitude in composing 
 tlie able memoirs of his life. Vergniaud, Gua- 
 det, Brissot, and the other leaders, were soon af- 
 terward consigned to prison, from whence, after 
 a painful interval, they were conducted to the 
 scaffold. t 
 
 Their trial and condemnation took place in 
 October, before the Revolutionary xheir trial 
 Tribunal. The convention passed a andcondem- 
 decree authorizing their trial ; the in- nation, 
 dictment against them was general, but its spe- 
 cific charges atfected only five or six of the ac- 
 cu.sed. They insisted upon the right of separ- 
 ate defence ; the Jacobins, the Committee of 
 
 Public Safe^v, and the convention, held ^ , , ,„ 
 ., . , ,•','•• ., r October 19. 
 
 this demand decisive evidence of a new 
 
 conspiracy. To obviate its supposed danger, 
 and guard against the effect of the well-known 
 eloquence of the accused, which had already 
 strongly moved the audience, the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal, after the trial had proceeded some 
 daA's, obtained from the convention a decree, au- 
 thorizing them to convict and pass sentence as 
 soon as they were convinced of the guilt of the 
 acctised, u-lietlwr ihey had been heard in their de- 
 fev/x or not.% 
 
 The grounds of the accusation were of the most 
 contemptible kind : Chaumette recounted all the 
 struggles of the municipality with the Cote Droit, 
 
 * Mig., i., 272, 273. Lac, ii., 78, 79. Th , iv., 272. 
 t Th., iv., 275, 276. % Mig., ii., 293, 
 
 « Toul., iv., 114. Th.,iv.,3S9. Mig.,ii.,293. Lac.ii., 
 78, 99. Louv., p. 1. 
 
1703.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 213 
 
 without adding a single fact that could inculpate 
 the accu.sed; the wretch Hebcrt recounted the 
 partieular.s of his an'est by the Commi.ssion of 
 Twelve, and alleged that Roland had endeavour- 
 ed to c(>rruj)t the public writers, by otiering to 
 buy up his obscene journal, the Pare Duche.sne ; 
 Destournelle deponed that the accused had ex- 
 erted themselves to crush the municipality, de- 
 clared against the massacres in the prisons, and 
 laboured to institute a departmental guard. Cha- 
 bot was the most virulent of the witnesses against 
 them ; he a-scribed to them a Machiavelian pol- 
 icy throughout all the Revolution ; endeavour- 
 ing to convert everything to their own profit, 
 and even permitting the massacres of Septem- 
 ber, in order to cut off some of their enemies 
 among the victims.* 
 
 The prosecution lasted nine days. At the end 
 of that time the juiy declared themselves con- 
 vinced ; the eloquence of Vergniaud, the vehe- 
 mence of Brissot, had pleaded in vain. The 
 court then read to the accused the decree of the 
 convention, empowering them to Urviinale the 
 proceedings as soon as the juiy had declared 
 their minds made up ; they saw upon this that 
 their fate was determined, as they were to be 
 condemned without being heard in their defence. 
 They all rose, and, by loud expressions of indig- 
 nation, drowned the voice of tne president, who 
 read their sentence. Valaze stabbed himself 
 with a poniard, and perished in presence of the 
 court, who immediately ordered that his dead 
 body should be borae on a car to the place of ex- 
 ecution, and beheaded with the other prisoners. 
 La Source exclaimed, " I die at a time when the 
 people have lost their reason: you will die as 
 soon as they recover it." The other prisoners 
 c mbraced each other, and exclaimed, " Vive la 
 Republiqiie !" The audience, though chiefly 
 composed of the assassins of September 2d, were 
 melted to tears.t 
 
 The anxiety of his friends had provided N&r%- 
 niaud with a certain and speedy poi- 
 deTth °'° son : he refused to make use of it, in 
 order that he might accompany his 
 friends to the scafibld. The eloquence of Verg- 
 niaud, which poured forth the night before his 
 execution, on the expiring liberty of France, in 
 strains of unprecedented splendour, entranced 
 even the melancholy inmates of the prison. The 
 illustrious prisoners were conducted on the 3lst 
 of October to the place of execution. They 
 marched together with a firm step, singing the 
 revolutionary song, which they applied by a 
 slight change to their own situation : 
 
 " Allons enfans de la patrie, 
 Le jour de gloire est arriv^, 
 ConCre ni>us de tyrannie 
 Le couteau sanglant est levC' 
 
 When they arrived at the place of execution 
 they mutually embraced, exclaiming " Vive la 
 Republique !" Sillery ascended first ; he bow- 
 ed with a grave air to the people, and received 
 with unshrinking firmness the fatal stroke. 
 They all died with the resolution of Romans, 
 protesting, with their last breath, their attach- 
 ment to freedom and the Republic: 
 
 A young man, named Girey Dufoce, was 
 brought to the bar of the Revolutionary Tribu- 
 nal. The president asked if he had been a friend 
 
 ■* Th.. v.. 384. 
 
 t Tout., iv., 114. Lac.,ii., 99. Mig., ii., 294. Th., v., 
 389 390. 391. 
 
 X Lad, ii., 99, 100. Th., v., 392. Mij., ii., 291. Tout., 
 iv., 115. Riouffe,51, 52. 
 
 of Brissot. " I had that happiness." " What 
 is your opinion of hirnl" " That he lived like 
 Aristides, and died like Sidney !" was the intrep- 
 id answer. He was forthwith sent to the scaf- 
 fold, where he perished with the firmness of his 
 departed friend.* 
 
 Rabaud St. Etienne, one of the most enlighten- 
 ed and virtuous of the proscribed deputies, had 
 escaped soon after the 2d of June from Paris. 
 Tired of wandering through the provinces, he 
 returned to the capital, and lived concealed in the 
 house of one of those faithful friends, of whom 
 the Revolution produced so many examples. 
 His wife, influenced by the most tender attach- 
 ment, incessantly watched over his safety. In 
 the street, one day, she met one of the Jaco- 
 bins, who assured her of his interest in her hus- 
 band, and professed his desire to give him an 
 asylum in his own house. Rabaud being in- 
 formed of the circumstance, and desirous of sa- 
 ving his generous host from farther danger, in- 
 formed the Jacobin of his place of retreat, and 
 assigned an hour of the night for him to come 
 and remove him from it. The perfidious wretch 
 came accompanied by gens-d'armes, who drag- 
 ged their victim, with his friendly host and host- 
 ess, to the Revolutionary Tribunal, whence they 
 were sent to the scaflbld.t In despair at having 
 been the instrument, however innocent, of such 
 treachery, his wife, in the flower of youth and 
 beauty, put herself to death. 
 
 Madame Roland was the next victim. This 
 heroic woman had been early involved Trial and 
 in the proscription of the Girondists, of death of 
 whom her splendid talent.s had almost Madame 
 rendered her the head. Confined in the ^o'a"^'- 
 prison of the Abbaye, she employed the tedious 
 months of captivity in composing the memoirs 
 which so well illustrate her eventtul life. With 
 a firm hand she traced, in that gloomy abode, the 
 joyous as well as the melancholy periods of her 
 existence ; the brilliant dreams and ardent pa- 
 triotism of her youth ; the stormy and eventful 
 scenes of her maturer years ; the horrors and an- 
 guish of her latest days. While suffering under 
 the fanaticism of the people, when about to die 
 under the violence of the mob, she never aban- 
 doned the principles of her youth, or regretted 
 her martyrdom in the cause of freedom. If the 
 thoughts of her daughter and her husband some- 
 times melted her to tears, she regained her firm- 
 ness on eveiy important occasion. Her Me- 
 moirs evince unbroken serenity of mind, though 
 she was frequently interrupted in their composi- 
 tion by the cries of those whom the executioners 
 were dragging from the adjoining cells to the 
 scafibld.? 
 
 On the day of her trial she was dressed with 
 scrupulous en re in white. Her fine 
 black hair fell in profuse curls to her ou'/conTuc't. 
 waist; but the display of its beauty 
 was owing to her jailers, who had deprived her 
 of all means of dre.'^sing it. She chose that dress 
 as emblematic of the purity of her mind. Her 
 advocate, M. Chaveau Lagarde, visited her to re- 
 ceive her last instructions; drawing a ring from 
 her finger, she said, " To-morrow I shall be no 
 more; I know well the fate which awaits me; 
 your kind assistance could be of no avail; it 
 would endanger you without saving m.e. Do 
 not, therefore, I prav you, come to the tribunal, 
 but accept this as the last testimony of my re- 
 gard." Her defence, composed by herself the 
 
 * Lac, ii., 100. t Ibid, 
 
 t Riouffe, 56, 57. Lac , ii., 100. Roland, i.,;)aji., and 97. 
 
214 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. IX. 
 
 night before the trial, is one of the most eloquent 
 and touching monumentsof the Revolution. Her 
 answers to the interrogatories of the judges, the 
 dignity of her manner, the beauty of her figure, 
 melted even the Revolutionary audience with 
 pity. Finding they could implicate her in no 
 other way, the president asked her if she was ac- 
 quainted with the place of her husband's retreat. 
 She replied, that " whether she knew it or not, she 
 would not reveal it, and that there was no law by 
 which she was obliged, in a court of justice, to 
 violate the strongest feelings of nature." Upon 
 this she was immediately condemned. When 
 the reading of her sentence was concluded, she 
 rose and said, "You judge me worthy to share 
 the fate of the great men whom you have assas- 
 sinated. I shall endeavour to imitate their firm- 
 ness on the scaflbld." She regained her prison 
 with an elastic step and beaming eye. Her 
 whole soul appeared absorbed in the heroic feel- 
 ings with which she was animated.* 
 
 She was conveyed to the scaffold in the same 
 car with a man wliose firmness was not equal to 
 her ovm. While passing along the streets, her 
 whole anxiety appeared to be to support his cour- 
 age. She did this with so much simplicity and 
 effect, that she frequently brought a smile on the 
 lips which were about to perish. At the place 
 of execution she bowed before the gigantic statue 
 of Liberty, and pronounced the memorable words, 
 " Oh, Liberty ! how many crimes are committed 
 in your name !" When they arrived at the foot 
 of the scaffold, she had the generosity to re- 
 nounce, in favour of her companion, the privi- 
 lege of being first executed. "Ascend first," 
 said she ; " let me at least spare you the pain of 
 seeing my blood flow." Turning to the execu- 
 tioner, she asked if he would consent to that ar- 
 rangement. Fie replied, " That his orders were 
 that she should die first." " You cannot," said 
 she, with a smile, " I am sure, refuse a woman 
 her last request 1" Undismayed by the spectacle 
 which immediately ensued, she calmly bent her 
 head under the guillotine, and perished with the 
 serenity she had evinced ever since her imprison- 
 ment.t 
 
 Madame Roland had predicted that her hus- 
 band would not long survive her. Her 
 M^ Rolwid. prophecy was speedily fulfilled. A few 
 days afterward, he Avas found dead on 
 the road between Paris and Rouen ; he had stab- 
 bed himself in that situation, that he might not, 
 by the situation in which his body was found, 
 betray the generous friends who had sheltered 
 him in his misfortunes. In his pocket was con- 
 tained a letter, in these terms: " Whoever you 
 are, oh ! passenger, who discover my body, re- 
 spect the remains of the unfortunate. They are 
 those of a man who consecrated his whole life to 
 be useful to his country ; who died as he had 
 lived, virtuous and unsullied. May my fellow- 
 citizens embrace more humane sentiments : not 
 fear, but indignation, made me quit my retreat 
 when I heard of the murder of my wife. I loath- 
 ed a world stained with so many crimes."* 
 
 The other chiefs of the party, dispersed in the 
 provinces of France, underwent innumerable 
 dangers, and made escapes more wonderful even 
 than those which romance has figured. Louvet 
 owed his salvation to the fidelity of female at- 
 tachment. Barbaroux, Buzot, Petion, and Va- 
 lade were concealed at St. Emelion, in a cavern, 
 
 * Roland, i., 40, 41, 43; ii., 439. App. Q., p. 425. 
 Riouffe, 57. t Roland, i.. 43, 44. Lac, x., 278. 
 
 I Roland, i., 45, 46. Lac, x., 278. 
 
 by a sister of Guadet. A few only escaped the 
 anxious search of the Jacobins;* their memoirs 
 evince a curious proof of the indignation of en- 
 thusiastic but virtuous minds at the triumph of 
 guilty ambition. 
 
 Thus perished the party of the Gironde, reck- 
 less in its measures, culpable for its Reflections 
 rashness, but illu.strious from its tal- on the over- 
 ents, glorious in its fall. It embraced throw of the 
 all the men who were philanthropists Gir^nilists. 
 from feeling or Republicans from principle ; 
 the brave, the humane, the benevolent. But 
 with them were also combined within its ranks 
 numbers of a baser kind ; many who employed 
 their genius for the advancement of their ambi- 
 tion, and were careless of their countr}'^ provided 
 they elevated their party. It was overthrown by 
 a faction of coarser materials, but more deter- 
 mined character, with less remains of conscien- 
 tious feeling, but more acquaintance with practi- 
 cal wickedness. Adorned by the most splendid tal- 
 ents, supported by the most powerful eloquence, 
 actuated at times by the most generous inten- 
 tions, it perished the victim of a base and despic- 
 able faction ; of men sprvmg from the dregs of 
 the populace, and impelled by guilty and selfish 
 ambition. Such ever has and ever will be the 
 result of revolutionary convulsions in society 
 when not steadily opposed in the outset by a 
 firm union of the higher classes of the commu- 
 nity ; in the collision of opposite factions, the 
 virtuous and the moderate will too often be over- 
 come by the reckless and the daring. Prudence 
 clogs their enterprise ; virtue checks their am- 
 bition; humanity paralyzes their exertions. They 
 fall, because they recoil from the violence which 
 becomes, in disastrous times, essential to com- 
 mand success in revolutions. 
 
 The principles of this celebrated party dis- 
 qualified them from taking an energetic or suc- 
 cessful part in public affairs. Their aversion to 
 violence, their liorror at blood, rendered them to- 
 tally uniit to struggle with their sanguinary an- 
 tagonists. They deemed it better to suffer than 
 to commit violence ; to die in the attempt to pre- 
 serve freedom, rather than live by the atrocities 
 which would subvert it. Their principles in the 
 end, when driven to extremities, were those so 
 finely expressed by Louis XVIII., when urged 
 to assassinate Napoleon : " In our family we are 
 murdered, but we never commit murder."t 
 
 Their greatest fault, and it is one which all 
 their sub.sequent misfortunes could not expiate, 
 consisted in the agitation which they so sedulous- 
 ly maintained in the public mind. The storm 
 which their eloquence created, it was beyond the 
 power of their wisdom to allay. They roused 
 the people against the throne on the 10th of Au- 
 gu.st; they failed in savingthe monarch on the2lst 
 of January, and died under the axe of the pop- 
 ulace whose furious passions they had awaken- 
 ed. Such is the natural progress of revolution. 
 Its early leaders become themselves the objects 
 of jealousy when their rule is established ; the 
 turbulent and the ambitious combine against an 
 authority which they are desirous of supplant- 
 ing ; stronger flattery to popular licentiousness,* 
 more extravagant protestations of public zeal, 
 speedily rouse the multitude against those who 
 have obtained the influence which they desire 
 for themselves. Power falls into the hands of 
 
 * Memoires de Buzot, l/ouvet, and Barbaroux, passim, and 
 Lac, X.. 280. 
 
 t Memoires sur Louis XVIIL, i., 221. Buzot, 10. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 2U 
 
 the most desperate : they gain everything, because 
 they scruple at nothing. 
 
 The Girondists and the whole Constitutional 
 party of France experienced, when they at- 
 tempted to coerce their ibrmer allies and restrain 
 the march of the Revolution, the necessaiy ef- 
 fect of the false principles on which they had 
 acted, and the perilous nature of the doctrines 
 which thej' had taken such pains to spread 
 iluouyh the people. They were never able 
 thereafter to command the assistance of either of 
 the great parties in the state, of the holders of 
 property, or the advocates of spoliation. The 
 ibrmer could place no confidence in them after 
 having confiscated the Church property, perse- 
 cuted the priests, carried the cruel decree against 
 the emigrants, provoked the revolt of the 10th of 
 August, and voted for the death of the king ; the 
 latter felt against them all the bitterness of person- 
 al deceit and part}^ treachery, when they strove 
 to wield the power of the executive against the 
 men with whom they had formerly acted, and 
 the principles by which they had excited so 
 mighty a convulsion. It is this feeling of dis- 
 imst on the one hand, and treachery on the other, 
 which so speedily annihilates the power of the 
 authors of a revolution, when they endeavour to 
 restrain its excesses, and renders tiie leaders of a 
 mighty host in one year utterly powerless and 
 contemptible in the next. It is the charge of in- 
 consistency which they never can get over; the 
 bitterness excited by an abandonment of princi- 
 ple, which paralyzes all their efforts even to cor- 
 rect its abuses. The Girondists and Constitu- 
 tionalists experienced this eiTiel reverse in the 
 most signal manner in all the latter stages of the 
 Revolution. Lafayette wielded the whole pow- 
 er of France when he arrayed the National 
 Guard against the monarchy in 1789, but he 
 oould not raise thirty men to join his .standard in 
 defence of the throne in 1792; and the leader of 
 the populace on the ,5th of October owed his es- 
 cape from their terocity solely to his confine- 
 ment in an Austrian dungeon": Vergniaud and 
 the Girondists were all-powerful xvhile they were 
 declaiming against the supposed treachery of the 
 court, and inllaming the nation to plunge into a 
 European war; but when they inveighed against 
 the massacres in the prisons, and sought indi- 
 rectly to save the life of the monarch whom they 
 had dethroned, they became to the last degree un- 
 popular, and were consigned to prison and the 
 scaffold amid the apnlause of the very multitude 
 which had so recentfy followed them with accla- 
 mations. 
 
 These facts suggest an important conclusion 
 in political science, which is, that the injustice 
 and vioiem^e of a revolutionary party can hardly 
 ever be effectually controlled by those who have 
 participated in its principles; but that the only 
 hope of the friends of order in such circumstan- 
 ces is to be tbund in those who, under eveiy in- 
 timidation have resolutely resisted measures of 
 injustice. There is something in courage and 
 consistency which commands respect even amid 
 the bitterness of faction; and if a reaction 
 ■ against the reign of violence is ever to arise, its 
 leaders must be foimtl, not among those who 
 
 have abandoned, but who have ever resisted the 
 march of revolution. It costs little to a soldier 
 to light under the banners of an able and reso- 
 lute adversary, but he will never place confi- 
 dence in a general who has abandoned his col- 
 ours during the combat. The Republican wri- 
 ters are all in error when they a.ssert that the 
 honors of the Revolution were owing to the king 
 not having cordially thrown himself into the 
 arms of the Con.stitutional party. With such 
 allies he never could have mastered the Jacobin 
 party, supported as they were by so large a pro- 
 portion of the urban population of France: it 
 was the Royalists alone who could have effectu- 
 ally taken advantage of the strong reaction 
 against the Revolution which the first open acts 
 of violence against the throne occasioned. And 
 the event has abundantly proved the justice of 
 these principles. The Orleans and Girondist 
 parties were never able to oppose any serious 
 resistance to the progress of the Revolution, and 
 history can hardly find a skirmish to record, 
 fought in defence of their principles;* whereas 
 the peasants of La Vendee, without any external 
 aid, and under every disadvantage, waged a des- 
 perate war v.dth the Republic, and after six hun- 
 dred battles had been Ibught, and a million of 
 men slaughtered, were still, on the accession of 
 Napoleon, unsu bdued. It was the general deser- 
 tion of the country by the emigrants, the treach- 
 ery of the army, and the irresolution of the king, 
 which really paved the way tor the Jacobin ex- 
 ces.ses. 
 
 But although the previous excesses and reck- 
 less ambition of the Girondists precluded them 
 from opposing any effectual resistance to the 
 progress of revolution, they did much to redeem 
 their ruinous errors by the serenity of their 
 death. Posterity invariably declares for the 
 cause of virtue; the last impressions are those 
 which are the most durable ; the principles 
 which in the end prove triumphant, are those 
 which find a responsive echo in the human heart. 
 Already this effect has becoirie conspicuous. The 
 talents, the vigour, the energy of the Jacobins, 
 are forgotten in the blood which stained their 
 triumpihs ; the imprudent zeal, the irresolute con- 
 duct, the inexperienced credulity of the Giron- 
 dists, are lo.st in the Roman heroism of their fall. 
 The Reign of Terror, the night of the Revolution, 
 was of short duration ; the stars which were ex- 
 tinguished in its firmament only turned the eyes 
 of the world with more anxiety to the coming 
 dawn. But the eloquence of Vergniaud, the he- 
 roism of Madame Roland, have created a lasting 
 impression upon the world; and while history, 
 which records the dreadful evils which their im- 
 petuous declamatitms produced upon their coun- 
 tiy, cannot absolve them from the imputation of 
 rash and perilous innovation, of reckless and in- 
 considerate ambition, it must respect some of the 
 motives which led even to errors whose conse- 
 quences were then in a great degree unknown, 
 and venerate the courage with which, in the last 
 extremity, they met their fate. 
 
 * The resistance at Lyons and Toulon, thoug^h begun un- 
 der Girondist colDurs before the fijsrhting began, was in re- 
 ality conducted by the Royalist party. 
 
216 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 REIGN OF TERROR— FROM THE FALL OF THE GIRONDISTS TO THE DEATH OP DANTON. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Formation of a new Government by the Jacobins. — Vast 
 Powers conferred upon the Committee of Public Safety. — 
 State of the Provinces. — Of Lyons, Bourdeaux, and Mar- 
 seilles. — General Coalition of Departments against the 
 Convention. — Measures to meet it : it is dissolved.— Im- 
 mense Power of the Committee. — Law of suspected Per- 
 sons. — Formation of Revolutionarj- Committees over all 
 France.— Their immense Numbers and Expense. — New 
 Era established, and Sunday abolished.— Charlotte Cor- 
 day. — Her Character. — She resolves to assassinate Marat. 
 — Kills him.— Her Trial and Death. — Apotheosis of Marat. 
 — Arrest of seventy-three Members of the Convention. — 
 Situation of Marie Antoinette. — Cruel Treatment and 
 Death of the Dauphin. — Trial of the Queen. — Her heroic 
 Conduct and Execution — And Character. — Violation of 
 the Tombs of St. Denis. — Destruction of Monuments over 
 all France. — Abjuration of Christianity by the Municipal- 
 ity. — The Goddess of Reason introduced into the Conven- 
 tion. — Nutre Damn named the Temple of Reason.— Uni- 
 versal Abandonment of Religion, and closing of the 
 Churches.— General and excessive Dissolution of Man- 
 ners. — Confiscation of the Property of Hospitals and the 
 Poor. — Arrest and Death of Bailly, of Baruave, Condor- 
 cet, and Custine. — Trial and E.vecution of the Dulie of 
 Orleans. — Estrangement of the Dantonists, and ruling 
 Power of the Municipality. — Publication of the Old Cor- 
 delier. — Efforts of Danton to detach Robespierre from the 
 Municipality. — Secret Agreement between Robespierre 
 and the Municipality, by which Danton is al;andoued to 
 the latter, and Hebert, Chaumette, and others, to tlie for- 
 mer. — Announcement of the Projects in the Convention. — 
 Proscription of the Anarchists. — Their disgraceful Death. 
 — Rupture of Danton and Robespierre. — Arrest of the for- 
 mer with CaniiUe Desmoulins. — Violent Agitation in the 
 Assembly. — Their Trial and Execution. — Resistless Pow- 
 er of Robespierre.— -General Reflections on the success- 
 ive Destruction of the Revolutiojusts. 
 
 "The rule of a mob," says Aristotle, "is the 
 worst of tyrannies;"* and .so experience has 
 proved it, trom the caprice of the Athenian De- 
 mocracy to the proscriptions of the French Rev- 
 olution. The reason is permanent, and must re- 
 main unaltered while society holds together. In 
 contests for power, a monarch has, in general, 
 to dread only the efforts of a rival for the throne ; 
 an an'stocracy, the ascendency of a faction in the 
 nobility ; the populace, the vengeance of all the 
 superior classes in the state. Hence the safety 
 of the first is usually secured by the destruction 
 of a single rival and his immediate adherents ; 
 the jealousy of the second extinguished by the 
 proscription or exile of a limited number of fam- 
 ilies ; but the teiTors of the last require the de- 
 struction of whole ranks in society. Measure.s 
 dictated by the alarm for individuals become 
 unnecessary when they have perished-, tho.se 
 levelled against the influence of classes require 
 to be pursued till the class itself is destroyed. 
 
 It was not a mere thirst for blood which made 
 Marat and Robespierre declare and act upon the 
 principle that there could be no security for the 
 Republic till two hundred and sixtv thousand 
 heads had fallen. Hardly any men are cruel for 
 cruelty's sake ; the leadei's of the Jacobins were 
 not more so than the reckless and ambitious of 
 any other country would be if exposed to the in- 
 fluence of similar passions. Ambition is the 
 origin of desperate measures, because it renders 
 men sensible only of the dictates of an insatiable 
 passion; terror is the real source of cruelty. 
 
 ' Turrwi' rwi/ Tuoai'i't^aii' Te\cvTaia ij 6t]iJ.0KpaTia.—A.ris- 
 tot., De Politicu. 
 
 Men esteem the lives of others lightly when their 
 own are at stake. The Revolutionary innova- 
 tions being directed against the whole aristocrat- 
 ic and influential classes, their vengeance was 
 felt to be implacable, and no security could be 
 expected to the Democratical leaders till their 
 whole opponents were destroyed. 
 
 In the strile of contending classes, the sphere 
 of individual vengeance is learfully augmented. 
 Not one, but fifty leaders, have terrors to allay, 
 rivals to extinguish, hatred to gratify ; with the 
 multitude of aspirants to power increase the 
 number of sacrifices that are required. Amid 
 the contests for influence and the dread of re- 
 venge, every man abandons his individual to his 
 political connexions; private friendship, public 
 character, yield to the force of personal appre- 
 hension. A forced coalition between the most 
 dissimilar characters takes place from the press- 
 ure of similar danger; friends give up friends 
 to the vengeance of political adversaries ; indi- 
 vidual security, private revenge, are purchased 
 by the sacrifice of ancient attachment. 
 
 France experienced the truth of these princi- 
 ples with unmitigated severity du- poi-mation of 
 ring the later stages of the Revolu- a new gov- 
 tion. But it was not immediately emment by 
 that the leaders of the victorious fac- '''^ Jacobins, 
 tion ventured upon the practical application of 
 their principles. 'J'he administration had been 
 in the hands of the Girondists; some central 
 power was indispensably required, on their over- 
 throw, to put a pericv:! to the anarchy which 
 threa.teneJ the country. The Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safely presented the skeleton of a govemiuent 
 already formed. Created some months before, 
 it was at first composed of the neutral party ; th« 
 victorious Jacobins, after the 3lst of May, placed 
 themselves in possession of its power. Robes- 
 pierre, St. Just, Couthon, Billaud Varennes, 
 and Collot d'Herbois, were elected m-embers, and 
 speedily ejected Herault de Sechelles and ths 
 other partisans of Danton. To the ruling Jaco- 
 bins the different departments of government 
 were assigned : St. Just was intrusted with the 
 duty of denouncing its enemies ; Couthon, with 
 bringing forward its general measures ; Billaud 
 Varennes and Collot d'Herbois, with the man- 
 agement of the departments ; Caraot was made 
 minister of war; Barere, the panegyrist and ora- 
 tor of the government ; Robespierre, general dic- 
 tator over all.* 
 
 The most extravagant joy prevailed among 
 the Jacobins at their decisive triumph. " The 
 people," said Robespierre, "have by their con- 
 duct confounded all their opponents. Eighty 
 thousand men have been imder arms nearly a 
 week, and not one .shop has been pillaged, not 
 one drop of blood shed ; and they have proved by 
 that whether the accusation was well founded, 
 that they wished to profit by the disorders to com- 
 mit murder and pillage. Their insurrection was 
 spontaneous — the result of a universal moral con- 
 viction — and the Mountain, itself feeble and ir- 
 
 Mig., ii., 295, 296. Toul., iv., 9S. Th., v., 94, 95. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 217 
 
 resolute, showed that it had no hand in producing 
 it. The insurrection was a great moral and 
 popular ellbrt, worthy of the enlightened people 
 among whom it arose." Under such plausible 
 colours did the Revolutionists veil a movement 
 which destroyed the only virtuous part of the 
 Democracy, and delivered over P'rance in fetters 
 to the Reign of Terror.* 
 
 The aspect of the convention, after this great 
 event, was entirely changed from what it had 
 ever been before. Terror had mastered their re- 
 sistance, proscription had thinned their ranks. 
 The hall was generally silent. The right, and 
 the majority of the centre, never voted, but seem- 
 ed, by their withdrawal Irom any active part, to 
 condemn the whole proceedings of the Jacobins, 
 and await intelligence from the provinces as the 
 signal for action. All the decrees proposed by 
 the ruling party were adopted in silence, without 
 any discussion. t 
 
 By a decree of the assembly, the whole power 
 of the government was vested in the 
 coufefTeT" hands of the decemvirs till the conclu- 
 upon the sion of a general peace. They made 
 Committee no concealment of the despotic nature 
 (if Public qj- tjjg authority with which they were 
 ''y- invested. "You have nothing now 
 
 to dread," said St. Ju.st, "Irom the enemies of 
 freedom ; all we have to do is to make its friends 
 triumphant, and that must be done at all hazards. 
 In the critical situation of the Kepublic, it is in 
 vain to re-establish the Constitution ; it would 
 otfer impunity to every attack on liberty, by 
 wanting the I'orce to repress them. You are too 
 far removed from conspiracies to have the means 
 of checking them ; the sword of the law must be 
 intrusted to surer hands; it must turn every- 
 where, and fall with the rapidity of lightning on 
 all its enemies.": In silent dread the assembly 
 and the people heard the terrible declaration ; its 
 justice was universally felt; the insupportable 
 evils of anai'chy could only be arrested by the 
 sanguinary arm of despotism. 
 
 While the practical administration of affairs 
 was thus lodged with despotic power in the hands 
 of the Committee of Public Safely, the general 
 superintendence of the police was vested in an- 
 other committee, styled of General Safety, subor- 
 dinate to the former, but still possessed of a most 
 formidable authority. Inferior to both in power, 
 and now deprived of much of its political im- 
 portance by the vast influence of the Committee 
 of Public Safety, the municipality of Paris began 
 to turn its attention to the internal regulation of 
 the city, and there exercised its power with the 
 most despotic rigour. It took under its cogni-' 
 zance the police of the metropolis, the public sub- 
 sistence, the markets, the public worship, the 
 theatre, the courtezans, and framed on ail these 
 sulijects a variety of minute and vexatious regu- 
 lations, which were speedily adopted over all 
 France. Chaumette, its public accuser, ever 
 sure of the applause of the multitude, exerted in 
 all these particulars the most rigorous authority. 
 Consumed by an incessant desire to subject 
 everything to new regulations, continually actu- 
 ated by the wish to invade domestic liberty, this 
 legislator of the market-places and warehouses 
 became daily more vexatious and formidable ; 
 while Pacbe, indolent and imperturbable, agreed 
 to everything which was proposed, and left to 
 Chaumette all the influence of popularity with 
 the rabble. § -^ 
 
 * Th., v., 3. 
 
 t Mig.. ii., 296. Tout., iv., 293. 
 
 Vol. I.— E e 
 
 t I!)., v., r. 
 
 « Th., v., 94, 96. 
 
 The correspondence which the Jacobins carried 
 on over all i'rance, with the most ar- 
 dent and factious in the towns and vil- ^'"'f ofthe 
 lages, speedily gave them the entire P''"*""^^^- 
 command of the country. The Democratic party, 
 in possession of all the municipalities in the de- 
 partments, in consequence of their being elected 
 by universal suffrage, armed with the powers of 
 a terrible police, intrusted with the rigiit of ma- 
 king domiciliary visits, of disarming or imprison- 
 ing the suspected persons, soon obtained an irre- 
 sistible authority. In vain the anned sections 
 and battalions of the National Guard strove to 
 resist ; want of union and organization paralyzed 
 all their efforts. In almost all the towns of 
 France they had courage enough to take up 
 arms, and everywhere endeavouied to withstand 
 the dreadful tyranny of the magi.stracies ; but 
 these bodies, based on the support and election 
 of the multitude, generally prevailed over the 
 whole class of proprietors, and all the peaceable 
 citizens, who in vain invoked the liberty, tran- 
 quillity, and security to property, for the preserva- 
 tion of which they were enrolled. This was, 
 generally speaking, the situation of parties over 
 all France, though the strife was more ardent in 
 those situations where the masses were densest, 
 and danger most evidently threatened the Revo- 
 lutionary party.* 
 
 The spirit of faction was, in an especial man- 
 ner, conspicuous at Lyons. A club of Lyons, 
 of Jacobins was there formed, com- Bouideaui, 
 posed of deputies from all the clubs of antl Mar- 
 note in the south of France, at the s'*'"''-''- 
 head of which was an ardent Republican, of 
 Italian origin, named Chalier, who was, at the 
 same time, an officer of the municipalit}', and 
 president of the civil tribunal. The Jacobins 
 had got possession of all the offices in the muni- 
 cipality except the mayoralty, which was still in 
 the hands of a Girondist, of the name of Neviere. 
 The Jacobin club made use of the utmost efl^orts 
 to displace him, loudly demanded a Revolution- 
 aiy Tribimal, and paraded through the streets a 
 guillotine recently sent down from Paris " to 
 strike terror into the traitors and aristocrats." 
 On the other hand, the armed sections, who were 
 strongly attached to the principles of the Giron- 
 dists, vigorously exerted themselves to resist the 
 establishment of a tribvtnal which was .shedding 
 such torrents of blood in the capital. Everything 
 already announced that desperate strife, of which 
 this devoted city so soon became the theatre.t 
 
 The universal election of ardent and unprin- 
 cipled Democrats to the whole situations in the 
 magistracy, in all the towns of France, under 
 the general suffrage of the inhabitants, in oppo- 
 sition to all the efforts of a powerful, opulent, 
 and, as the event proved, brave and devoted body 
 of citizens in them all, is an instructive fact in 
 political science. It proves how unfit such nu- 
 merous bodies of men are to be intrusted with 
 the choice of their own rulers in those periods 
 when firmness in the depositaries of power is 
 most required; and how completely, under the 
 influence of a highly popular right of suffrage, 
 the weight of property is set at naught, even in 
 those commercial cities where it might, d priori, 
 have been deemed most considerable. The ad- 
 dition which the Revolutionary party received to 
 their power throughout the whole convulsion, 
 from the firm hold which this popular election 
 gave them of the municipalities over all France, 
 
 Th., iv., 157. 158. 
 
 t Th., iv, 161. 
 
218 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 and the irresistible influence which they every- 
 where possessed, was one of the principal causes 
 of its rapid and deplorable progress. And it is 
 not the least remarkable circumstance that this 
 universal and cordial support was given by the 
 vast majority in the commercial towns of France, 
 in opposition to their direct and immediate in- 
 terests; the looms employed in Lyons and St. 
 Etienne having declined from 14,000 to 6000 be- 
 tween 1789 and 1792, under the influence of rev- 
 olutionary agitation, while, with the failure of 
 their means of subsistence, the Democratic fer- 
 vour of the deluded multitude appeared to be 
 constantly increasing.* 
 
 In the other towns in the south of France the 
 Girondists were all-powerful, and the utmost 
 horror at the anarchical party, who had obtained 
 the ascendency at Paris and in the northern 
 provinces, was already conspicuous. From the 
 mouth of the Rhone to that of the Garonne, these 
 sentiments were nearly universal, and in some, 
 even the municipalities were in the hands of the 
 moderate party. At Bourdeaux this feeling 
 was so strong, that it already bordered on the 
 feelings of Royalty; while the whole country, 
 from the Gironde and the entrance of the Loire, 
 by the shores of the ocean to the mouth of the 
 Seine, was openly attached to the ancient insti- 
 tutions of the country-, and beheld with undis- 
 guised horror the atrocities with which the Rev- 
 olutionary party had already stained their ca- 
 reer.t 
 
 Such was the state of public feeling in France 
 „ , _ when the Revolution of the 3lst of 
 liUo^ofthe May and the fall of the Girondists 
 departments took place. That catastropiie put 
 against the (he whole of the southern depart- 
 conventioii. ^gj^j^ ^■^-^^^ ^ flame; the imprison- 
 ment of the deputies of the national represent- 
 atives by the mob of Paris, the open assump- 
 tion of government bj- the municipality of that 
 city, excited the most profound indignation. In 
 most of the cities the magistracy had fallen, as 
 already observed, into the hands of the Jacobins, 
 who were supported by the parent club at Paris 
 and the executive, while the armed sections were 
 attached to the opposite system. The catastro- 
 phe of the Girondists at Paris brought those 
 conflicting powers almost everywhere into col- 
 29th M Csion. At Marseilles the sections rose 
 ^^' against the municipality, and violent- 
 ly seized possession of the magistracy ; at Ly- 
 ons a furious combat took place; the sections 
 took the Hotel de Ville by assault, dispossessed 
 the magistracy, shut up the Jacobin club, and 
 gained the command of the city. At Bourdeaux, 
 the arrest of the Girondists, of whose talents they 
 were justly proud, excited the mo.st violent sen- 
 sation, which was brought to a crisis by the ar- 
 rival of the fugitive deputies, who announced 
 that their illustrious brethren were in fetters, and 
 in hourly expectation of death. ^ 
 
 On the 13th of June the department of Eure 
 , . gave the signal of insurrection; it was 
 "^"^ ■ agreed that four thousand men should 
 march upon Paris to liberate the convention. 
 Great part of Normandy followed the example, 
 and all the departments of Brittany were in arms. 
 The whole valley of the Loire, with the excep- 
 tion of that which was the theatre of the war of 
 La Vendee, proposed to send deputies to Bourges 
 to depose the usurped authority at Paris. At 
 
 * Barke, vij., 54, 55. 
 t lb., v., 8, 10, 11. 
 
 t Th., jv., 160, 163. 
 
 Bourdeaux the sensation was extreme. All the 
 constituted authorities assembled together, erect- 
 ed themselves into a commission styled of Pub- 
 lic Safety, declared that the convention was no 
 longer free, appointed an armed force, and de- 
 spatched couriers into all the neighbouring de- 
 partments. Marseilles sent forth a thundering pe- 
 tilion; the whole mountaineers of the Jura were 
 in a lerment ; and the departments of the Rhone, 
 the Garonne, and the Pyrenees, joined themselves 
 to the vast confederacy. So far did the spirit of 
 revolt proceed, that at Lyons a pro.secution was 
 instituted against Chalier and tlie leaders of the 
 Jacobin club ; and deputies to concert measures 
 for their common safety were received from Mar- 
 seilles, Bourdeaux, and Caen. Seventy depart- 
 ments were in a state of insurrection ; and fitteen 
 only remained wholly devoted to the faction who 
 had mastered the convention.* 
 
 Opinions were divided at Paris how to meet 
 so formidable a danger. Barere pro- 
 posed, in the name of the Committee inee^"^^^'^" 
 of Public Safety, that the Revolution- 
 ary committees, which had become so formida- 
 ble throughout France Irovn their numerous ar- 
 rests, should be everywhere annulled; that the 
 primary assemblies should be assembled at Paris 
 to name a commander of the armed force in lieu 
 of Henriot, who had been appointed by the in- 
 surgents ; and that thirty deputies should oe sent 
 as hostages to the provinces. But the Jacobins 
 were not disposed to any measures of concilia- 
 tion. Robespierre adjourned the consideration 
 of the report of the committee; and Danton, 
 raising the voice so well known in all the perils 
 of the Revolution, exclaimed, "The Revolution 
 has passed through many crises, a&d it will sur- 
 vive this as it has done the others. It is in the 
 moments of a great production that political, like 
 physical bodies, seem menaced by an approach- 
 ing destruction. The thunder rolls, but it is in 
 the midst of its roar that the great work which 
 is to consummate the happiness of twenty-five 
 millions of men will be prodticed." In this 
 spirit, the convention, instead of yielding, adopt- 
 ed the most vigorous mea.sures, and spoke in the 
 most menacing strain. They declared that Par- 
 is, in placing itself in a state of insurrection, 
 had deserved well of the country; that the ar- 
 rested deputies should forthwitli be lodged in 
 prison like ordinary' criminals; that a call of 
 the convention should be made, and all those ab- 
 .sent without excuse be instantly expelled, and 
 their place supplied by new representatives ; that 
 •all attempts at correspondence or coali- 
 tion among the departmental authorities """^ ' ' 
 were illegal, and that those who persisted in them 
 should forthwith be sent to Paris; they jinnulled 
 the resolution of the department of the Eure, or- 
 dered all the refractor}- authorities to be sent to 
 ilie Revolutionary Tribunal, and sent the most 
 ardent Jacobins into the provinces to enforce 
 submission to the central government. t 
 
 These vigorous measures efTectnally broke 
 this formidable league. The de- j, . ,. , , 
 partments, little accustomed to re- 
 sist the authority of the government at Paris, 
 returned one by one to submission. Hostile 
 preparations were made at Bourdeaux, Lyons, 
 Rouen, and Marseilles ; but the insurgents, with- 
 out a leader or central point of union, and desti- 
 tute of all support from the nobility and natural 
 chiefs of the countiy, were unable to struggle 
 
 Th., v., 13, 14. 
 
 i lb., v., 10, 13. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF E [J ROPE. 
 
 219 
 
 \vitli the energetic Committee of Public Safety, 
 ■wielding at will the army, the Jacobin clubs, 
 and the municipalities. They continued their 
 preparations, however, and refused to .send the 
 proscribed authorities to Paris; but their ardour 
 gi'adually cooled, and in two nioutlis tlie seeds 
 of revolt existed only in vigour at Lyons, Tou- 
 lon, atid Marseilles, where it afterward brought 
 about a bloody catastrophe.* 
 
 The convention, .shortly after, now wholly un- 
 der the power of the Jacobins, proceeded to the 
 formation of a Constitution, the most Democrat- 
 ic that ever existed upon earth, i^ight days 
 completed the work. Every Frenchman of 
 twenty-one years of age was entitled to exercise 
 the rights of a citizen ; a deputy was named by 
 every lifty thousand citizens. On the 1st of May 
 of every year, the primary assemblies were to 
 meet, without any convocation, to renew the 
 deputies. It was adopted without discussion, 
 and instantly circulated over all France. " The 
 most Democratic Constitution that ever exi.sted," 
 said Robespierre, " has issued from the bosom of 
 an assembly composed of counter-revolutionists, 
 now purged of its unworthy members."t 
 
 But there never was a greater mistake than to 
 imagine that this Constitution, so Republican 
 in form, coufen-ed any real liberties on the peo- 
 ple. Its only etfect was to concentrate the whole 
 authority of the state in the hands of a few 
 popular leaders. 
 
 Thenceforward, the Committee of Public Safe- 
 Vast powers ty ^' Paris exercised, without op- 
 <)f the Com- position, all the powers of gorern- 
 mitteeofPub- mcnt : it named and dismissed the 
 lie Safety. generals, the judges, and the juries ; 
 appointed the intendants of the provinces ; 
 brought forward all public measures in the con- 
 vention, and launched its thunder again.st eveiy 
 opposite faction. By means of its commission- 
 er.s, it ruled the provinces, generals, and armies 
 with absolute sway ; and soon after, the law of 
 suspected persons placed the personal freedom 
 of every subject at its disposal ; the Revolution- 
 ary Tribunal rendered it the master of evert' life ; 
 the requisitions and the maximum, of every for- 
 tune ; the accusations in the convention, of every 
 member of the legislature.^ 
 
 The law of suspected persons, which gave this 
 Law of tremendous power to the decemvirs, 
 suspected passed on the I7th of September. It 
 i>ersons. declared all persons liable to arrest who, 
 1-th Sept. <i either by their conduct, their relations, 
 their conversation, or their writing, have shown 
 them.selves the partisans of tyranny or of federa- 
 tion, or the enemies of freedom : all persons who 
 have not discharged their debts to the country; 
 all nobles, the husbands, wives, parents, children, 
 brothers, sisters, or agents of emigrants, who have 
 not incessantly manifested their devotion to the 
 Revolution. "§ Under this law, no person had 
 any chance of safety but in going the utmost 
 length of Revolutionary fury.ll 
 
 * Th., v., 20, 27, 61, 75. t Th., v., 50, 60. 
 
 t Mig.,ii., 296,297. Th., v., 93, 94, 95. Lac, ii., 92. 
 
 t) Lae.,ii., 92. 
 
 II This atrocious law, as explained by a decree of the 
 municipality of Paris, which was circulated over all France, 
 gave the following definition of suspected persons. 1. All 
 those who, in the assemhlies of the people, arrest their en- 
 thusiasm l)y cries, menaces, or crafty discoui'sps. 2. All 
 those who more prudently speak only of the misfortunes of 
 the Republic, and are always ready to spread bad news with 
 an affected air of sorrow. 3. All those who have changed 
 their conduct and languag-e according to the course of 
 events, who were mute on the crimes of the Royalists and 
 Federalists, and loudly exclaim against the slight faults of 
 
 The Revolutionary committees were declared 
 the judges of the p<;rsons liable to ^ . , 
 ^"f'-. Their number augmented fe^Za^' 
 with frightful rapidity : Paris had cominittees 
 soon forty-eight. Every village "verall 
 throughout the country followed its ^''^^'^^■ 
 example. Five hundred thousand persons, drawn 
 Jrom. the dregs of society, disposed in these com- 
 mittees of the lives and liberties of every man in 
 France. With generous resolution, some men 
 entered them with the design of arresting their 
 oppression; they were soon expelled to make 
 way for more obedient ministers of the will of 
 the dictators.* 
 
 The number of Revolutionary committees 
 which .sprung up in every part of the rj^^^^-^. -^^ 
 kingdom, to carry into execution this mense num- 
 terrible law, was almost incredible, bers and ex- 
 Fifty thousand were soon in opera- P«"se- 
 tion from Calais to Bayonne. According to the 
 calculations of the conventionnel Cambon, they 
 cost annually to the nation 591,000,000 of assig- 
 nats, or above X24,000,000 sterling. Every mem- 
 ber of these committees received three francs 
 a day, and their number was no less than 540,000. 
 In the immense number of the most active and 
 ambitious of the people who were enlisted on the 
 side of the Revolutionary government, and per- 
 sonally interested in its preservation, is to be 
 found the real secret of the firm establishment 
 and long continuance of the Reign of Terror.t 
 
 The calculations of these inferior agents of 
 cruelty soon outstripped those of their masters. 
 Marat had asserted that 200,000 heads must fall 
 before freedom was secure. The Revolutionary 
 committees discovered that 700,000 persons must 
 be sacrificed. The prisons were speedily loaded 
 with victims in every town in France ; a more 
 speedy mode of di.sposing of them was proposed 
 than the massacre of the '2d of September. " Let 
 them quake in their cells," said Collot d'Herbois 
 in the convention; "let the base traitors tremble 
 at the successes of our enemies : let a mine be dug 
 under the prisons, and at the approach of those 
 whom they call their liberators, let a spark blow 
 them into the air." The retreat of the allied ar- 
 mies rendered unnecessary the inhuman proposal 
 at that moment ; and famine, pestilence, and the 
 guillotine soon made its renewal .'■upeifluous.j; 
 
 the Republicans. 4. All those who bewail the situation of 
 the farmers or avaricious merchants who have had their 
 property taken from them by the forced re(|uisitions. 
 5. Those who, with the words liberty, country, and Repub- 
 lic in their mouths, frequent the society of priests, gentle- 
 men, Feuillants, Moderates, or Aristocrats, or take an inter- 
 est in tlieir sufferings. 6. Those who have not taken an 
 active part in supporting the cause of the peo]>le, and excuse 
 themselves for their lukewarmness by alleging their patri- 
 otic gifts or ser\-ices in the National Guard. 7. Those who 
 testified indifTerence on the proclamation of the Republican 
 Constitution, or have expressed vain fears as to its dura- 
 bility. 8. All those who, if they have done nothing against 
 liberty, have done nothing for it. 9. All who do not attend 
 regularly the meetings of their sections, and allege as an 
 excuse that they do not like to speak in public, or that their 
 time is occupied by their private aOairs. 10. Those who 
 speak with contempt of the constituted authorities, the en- 
 signs of the law, the popular societies, or t!ie defenders of 
 liberty. 11. Those who have signed any anti-revolutionar>- 
 petitions, or frequented societies or clubs of the higher 
 classes. ]2. All who were partisans of La Fayette, or serv- 
 ed under him in the execution of the Chainps de Mars. 
 Under these ample clauses, every one was embraced who 
 was obnoxious to the Revolutionists ; and the number of 
 prisoners in Paris alone was raised in a few days from three 
 hundred to three thousand, rml)racing all that remained of 
 the elegance of the Fauxhourg St. Germains.* 
 
 * Lac.,ii.,93. t Chateaub., Etud. Hist., Pref., 97,98. 
 
 i Lac, ii., 93, 94. 
 
 * Th., v., 360, 361. 
 
220 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 This terrible power was everywhere based 
 upon the co-operation of llie multitude. That 
 formidable body generally aided in extending the 
 Reign of Terror ; in the club.s, by incessant de- 
 nunciations of the opulent or respectable classes ; 
 in the committees, by multiplying the number 
 of vindictive committals. They supported the 
 sword of the decemvirs, because it fell upon the 
 class above themselves, and opened to the indi- 
 gent the wealth and the employments of the bet- 
 ter ranks in the state : because it flattered them 
 by the possession of power which they were 
 wholly disqualified to exercise, and ruined the 
 higher ranks whom they had been taught to re- 
 gard as their natural enemies.* 
 
 These revolutionary measures were executed 
 over the whole extent of France with the last se- 
 verity. Conceived by the most ardent minds, they 
 were violent in their principles ; carried into effect 
 far from the leaders who framed them, they were 
 rendered still more oppressive by the brutal char- 
 acter of the agents to whom their execution 
 was intrusted. Part of the citizens were compell- 
 ed to quit their homes; another was immured 
 in dungeons as suspected ; the barnyards of the 
 farmers, the warehouses of the merchants, the 
 shops of the tradesmen, were forcibly emptied 
 for the use of the armies or the government, and 
 nothing but an elusory paper given in exchange. 
 The forced loans were exacted with the utmost 
 rigour; the commissioners said to one, "You 
 are worth 10,000 livres a year;" to another, "You 
 have -20,000;" and, to save their heads from the 
 guillotine, they were happy to surrender their 
 property to the demands. t 
 
 No better picture can be desired of the tyranny 
 of these despotic commissioners, than is furnish- 
 ed by the report of one of their members to the 
 convention. "Everywhere," said Laplanche, 
 who had been sent to the department of Cher, 
 " I have made terror the order of the day ; eve- 
 rywhere I have imposed heavy contributions on 
 the rich and the aristocrats. From Orleans I 
 have extracted fifty thousand francs ; and in two 
 days, at Bourges, I raised two millions; where 
 I could not appear in person, my delegates have 
 amply supplied my place. I have dismissed all 
 the Federalists, imprisoned all the suspected, put 
 all the Sans Culottes in authority. I have forci- 
 bly married all the priests, everywhere electrified 
 the hearts and inflamed the courage of the people. 
 I have passed in review numerous battalions of 
 the National Guard, to confirm their Republican 
 spirit, and guillotined numbers of the Royalists. 
 In a word, I have completely fulfilled my impe- 
 rial mandate, and acted everywhere as a warm 
 partisan of the Mountain, and faithful represent- 
 ative of the Revolution."; 
 
 To obliterate as far as possible all former rec- 
 New era es- oUections, a new era was establish- 
 tablished. ed ; they changed the divisions of the 
 Sunday abol- year, the names of months and days, 
 ished. f }jg ancient and venerable institu- 
 
 tion of Sunday was abolished; the period of rest 
 fixed at every tenth day ; time was measured by 
 divisions of ten days ; and the year was divided 
 into twelve equal months, beginning on the 22d 
 of September. These changes were preparatory 
 to a general abolition of the Christian religion, 
 and substitution of the worship of Reason in its 
 stead.f 
 
 Meanwhile, the prisons of Paris exhibited the 
 
 ♦ Mig , ii., 207 
 t Th., v., 354. 
 
 t Th., v., 353. 
 <) Mig., ii., 298. 
 
 most extraordinary spectacle. Filled at once 
 with ordinary malefactors, and all that yet re- 
 mained of dignity, beauty, or virtue in the Repub- 
 lic, they presented the most unparalleled assem- 
 blage that modern Europe had yet seen of un- 
 blushing guilt and unbending virtue, of dignified 
 manners and revolutionary vulgarity, of splendid 
 talent and frightful atrocity. In some, where the 
 rich were allowed to provide for their own com- 
 forts, a singular degree of alfluence and even ele- 
 gance for some time prevailed ; in others, the 
 most noble captives were weeping on a couch of 
 straw, with no other covering than a few filthy 
 rags. The French character, imbued beyond any 
 other in Europe with elasticity and capability to 
 endure misfortunes, in many instances rose supe- 
 rior to all the horrors with which the jails were 
 surrounded. From the multitude and lustre of 
 their fellow-suflerers, every one felt his own ca- 
 lamities sensibly softened. By degrees, the ordi- 
 nary interests of life began to exert their influence 
 even on the verge of the tomb; poetry enchanted 
 the crowded cells by touching strains, eloquence 
 exerted its fascinating ascendant, beauty renew- 
 ed its silken chains. The female captives of 
 rank became attentive to their dress, intimacies 
 and attachments were fonned, and, amid all the 
 agitation and agony consequent on their protract- 
 ed, sufferings, the excitements of a happier exist- 
 ence were felt even to the foot of the scaffold. 
 By degrees, as the prosecutions became more 
 frequent, and numbers were daily led out to exe- 
 cution, the sense of common danger united them 
 in the bonds of the strongest afl'ection ; they re- 
 joiced and wept together; and the constant thin- 
 ning of their number produced a sympathy among 
 the survivers which outlived every other feeling 
 of existence.* 
 
 While these events were in progress, the arm 
 of female enthusiasm arrested the course charlotte 
 of one of the tyrants. Charlotte Cor- Corday. 
 day, a native of Rouen, at the age of Herchar- 
 five-and-twenty, was animated by a he- ^'='<=>'- 
 roism and dev^otion above her sex. Gifted with 
 a beautiful form and a serene temper, she deem- 
 ed the occupations and ordinary ambition of 
 women beneath her serious regard ; possessed 
 of more than masculine couiage, she had lost 
 nothing of female delicacy. One only passion, 
 the love of liberty, concentrated the ardent aspi- 
 rations of her mind. Her enthusiasm was 
 awakened to the highest degree by the arrival of 
 the proscribed Girondists at Rouen : all the ro- 
 mantic visions of her youth seemed blighted by 
 the bloody usurpations of the ruling faction at 
 Paris. Marat, the instigator of all the atrocities, 
 she imagined to be their leader. If he could be 
 removed, no obstacle appeared to remain to the 
 reign of Justice and Equality, to the commence- 
 ment of the happiness of France. In the heroic 
 spirit of female devotion, she resolved to sacri- 
 fice her lile to attain this inestimable object.t 
 
 Having taken her resolution, she regained all 
 her wonted cheerfulness of manner, she resnlves 
 which the public calamities had much to assas^si- 
 impaired. Deceived by the appear- "^te Marat. 
 ance of joy which she exhibited, her relations al- 
 lowed her to set off on some trifling commissions 
 to Paris. In the public conveyance she was 
 chiefly distinguished by the amiable playfulness 
 of her demeanour, uriinterrapted even by the 
 savage conversation of some Jacobins who were 
 
 * Th., v., 362, 303, 364. RioufFe, 46, 51, 60, 68. 
 t Lac, ii., 80. Th., v., 77, 78. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 221 
 
 present. The first day of her arrival at Paris 
 was employed in executing her commis.sions ; 
 on the second she purchased a knii'c at the Palais 
 Royal, to pluni,'e into the bosom of the tyrant. 
 Oiitlie third day she with dillicuUy obtained an 
 entrance to Marat. She found him in the bath, 
 "where he eagerly inquired after the proscribed 
 deputies at Caen. Being told their names, 
 " They shall soon meet witli the punishment 
 they deserve," said Marat. " Yours is at hand !" 
 exclaimed she, and stabbed him to the 
 Kills him. j^^^j,j jjg uttered a loud shriek, and 
 expired. Charlotte Corday remained motionless 
 in the apartment, and was seized and conducted 
 to prison.* 
 
 On the day of her trial she internipted the pros- 
 ecutors, who were beginning to prove 
 and death. '^'^ '^^^^^ of the deceased. "These 
 Ibrmalities are unnecessary: I killed 
 Marat !" " What tempted you to commit the 
 murder 1" " His own crimes." " AVhat do you 
 mean by liis crimes V " The misfortunes which 
 lie has inflicted on France since the Revolution, 
 and which he was preparing to increase." " Who 
 are your associates V " 1 have none; I alone 
 conceived the idea." " What did you propose 
 to yourself by putting Marat to death 1" " To 
 stop the anarchy of France. I have slain one 
 man to save a hundred thousand; a wretch, to 
 preserve the innocent ; a savage monster, to give 
 repose to my country. I was a Republican be- 
 fore the Revolution, and I have never failed in 
 energy." "What do you understand by energy 1" 
 asked the president. " The sentiment which 
 animates those who, disdaining the consideration 
 of their own safety, sacrifice themselves for the 
 sake of their country." Upon hearing her sen- 
 tence, she gave a joyful exclamation, and with 
 a radiant covmtenance handed to the president 
 two letters, one addressed to Barbaroux, the other 
 to her father. In the latter she said, " Pardon 
 me, my dear father, for having disposed of my 
 life without your permission. I have avenged 
 many victims, prevented others. The people 
 will one day acknowledge the ser\nce I have 
 rendered my country. For your sake I wished 
 to remain incognito, but it was impossible ; I 
 only trust you will not be injured by what I have 
 done. Farewell, my beloved father ; forget me, 
 or, rather, rejoice at my fate ; it has sprung from 
 a noble cause. Embrace my sister for me, whom 
 I love with all my heart, as well as all my rela- 
 tions. Never forget the words of Comeille : 
 
 " The crime makes tlie shame, and not the scaffold." 
 
 When led out to execution, she gazed with un- 
 disturbed serenity on the preparations for her 
 death. Her appearance was that of a lovely fe- 
 male, bearing with meekness and inward satis- 
 faction a triumphal fete of which she was the 
 object. The immense multitude seemed to her 
 enfranchised by the sacrifice she had made. 
 When the axe had terminated her life, the exe- 
 cutioner seized her head, beautiful even in death, 
 and gave it several buffets; the indignant spec- 
 tators shuddered at his atrocity .t 
 
 The Jacobins attempted to deify Marat : Robes- 
 . pierre pronounced an eloquent eulo- 
 ^''Marat!'^ gium on his virtues in the convention. 
 " If I speak to-day," said he, " it is 
 because I am bound to do so. Poniards were 
 here used : I should have received the fatal blow : 
 chance alone made it light on that great patriot. 
 
 * Lac, ii., 80, 81. Mig., ii., 279. Th., v., 80, 81. 
 t Mig., ii., 279. Th., v., 78, 86. Lac., ii., 82, 83. 
 
 Think no longer, therefore, of vain declamations 
 or the pomp of burial : the best way to avenge 
 Marat is to prosecute his enemies with relentless 
 vigour. The vengeance which is satisfied with 
 funeral honours is soon appeased, and loses it- 
 .sclf in useless projects. Renounce, then, these 
 useless discussions, and avenge him in the only 
 manner worthy of his name." His obsequies 
 were celebrated with extraordinary pomp: a band 
 of )-oung women were invited to throw flowers 
 on the body; and the president of the jwpular so- 
 cieties, who pronounced his funeral oration, said, 
 "Let us not pronounce his eulogy: it is to be 
 found in his conduct, his writings, his gha.stly 
 wound, his death. Citizens ! cast your flowers 
 on the pale body of Marat : he was our friend — 
 the friend of the people ; it was for the people 
 that he lived, for the people that he died. Enough 
 has now been given to lamentation: Listen to 
 the great soul of Marat, which rises from the 
 grave and says, ' Republicans, put an end to 
 your tears: Republicans should weep but fur a 
 moment, and then devote themselves to their 
 country: it was not me whom they wished to 
 assassinate, it was the Republic : it is not I who 
 cry for vengeance, it is the Republic ; it is the 
 people, it is yourselves !' " His remains were 
 consigned Avith funeral pomp to the Pantheon, 
 and his monument raised in every town and vil- 
 lage of France.* Posterity has reversed the sen- 
 tence : it has consigned Marat to eternal execra- 
 tion, and associated Charlotte Corday with Timo- 
 leon and Brutus. 
 
 Robespierre and the decemvirs made the as- 
 sassination of Marat the gi'ound for . . 
 increased severity towards the bro- seventj" 
 ken remains of the Girondists' party, three mem- 
 Many of their friends remained m the ''ers of the 
 convention ; with generous constancy '^°"^'^"'i°"- 
 they still sat on the benches to the right, thinned 
 by the proscription of so many noble members. 
 During the trial of Charlotte Corday, a secret 
 protest, signed by seventy-three deputies, against 
 the usurpation of the 2d of June, was discovered :+ 
 they were all immediately arrested, and thrown 
 into prison. The convention, after their removal, 
 contained no elements even of resistance to the 
 t}Tants. 
 
 Marie Antoinette was the next victim. Since 
 the death of the king, his unfortunate situation 
 family had been closely confined in of Marie 
 the Temple ; the princesses had them- Antoinette, 
 selves discharged all the duties of menial sei-vants 
 to the queen and the dauphin. A project had 
 been formed, with ever}' appearance of success, 
 for her escape : she at first listened to the pro- 
 posal, but on the evening before it was to be car- 
 ried into execution, declared her resolution never 
 to separate from her son. " Whatever pleasure 
 it would give me," said she, " to escape from this 
 place, I cannot consent to be separated from him. 
 I can feel no enjoyment without my children : 
 with them I can regret nothing." Even in the 
 prison of the Temple, the cares of his educa- 
 tion were sedulously attended to ; and the mind 
 of the young king already imbibed the duties of 
 royalty.": 
 
 The revolution of the 3lst of May was felt in 
 its full severity by the prisoners in the Temple, 
 as well as all the other captives in France. He- 
 bert insisted that the family of the tyrant should 
 
 * Mig., ii., 279. Lac, ii., 83. Th., v., 88-91. 
 t Lac, ii., 84. Toul., iv., 279. 
 
 t Memoires de la Duchesse d'AngouIfeme, p. 17. Lac, 
 I., 226. Duch. d'Angouleme, 17. 
 
222 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 not be better treated than that of a family of Sans 
 Culottes ; and he obtained a decree from the ma- 
 gistrates, by which every species of luxury was 
 withdrawn. Their fare was reduced to the hum- 
 blest kind; wicker lamps became their only 
 light, and their dress the coarsest habiliments. 
 He himself soon after visited the Temple, and 
 took from the unhappy prisoners even the little 
 movables on which their only comfort depended. 
 Eighty-four louis, which the Princess Elizabeth 
 had received from the I^rincess Lamballe, and 
 which she had hitherto concealed, could not 
 elude his rigorous search, and were taken away.* 
 
 Soon the barbarity of the government envied 
 the widowed and captive queen even the pleas- 
 ure of beholding her son. The discovery of an 
 abortive conspiracy for their liberation was made 
 the ground for separating the dauphin from his 
 mother, and delivering him to the inhuman Si- 
 mon, the agent and friend of Robespierre. In 
 vain the young prince demanded to see the de- 
 cree which authorized this cruel separation. His 
 mother, weeping, recommended submission; and 
 he remained two days without taking nourish- 
 ment after he was forever withdrawn from her 
 sight. All the cruel treatment of Simon could 
 not extinguish the native generosity of his dispo- 
 sition. " Capet," said he, " if the Vendeans were 
 to succeed in delivering you, and placing you on 
 the throne, what would you do with meV " I 
 would pardon you," replied the infant monarch.-f 
 
 "What am I to do with the child!" said Si- 
 f..„oi t,<.„t mon to the Committee of Public Safe- 
 ment .and ty : "Banish himl "No." "Kill 
 death of the himi" "No." "Poisonhiml" "No." 
 dauphin. "What thenl" "Get quit of him." 
 These instructions were too faithfully executed. 
 By depriving him of air, exercise, and whole- 
 some Ibod, by keeping him in a continual state 
 of squalid filth, the unfortunate child was at 
 length brought to his grave, without imposing 
 upon his keepers the necessity of actual vio- 
 lence.; 
 
 On the 2d of August, the queen was separated 
 from her weeping sister and daughter, and 
 ^^' ■ confined alone in the prison of the Con- 
 ciergerie. A narrow, gloomy, and damp apart- 
 ment, a worn mattress, and a bed of straw, con- 
 stituted the sole accommodations of one for 
 whom the splendour of Versailles once seemed 
 hardly adequate. She was kept there above two 
 months in the closest confinement ; her mild and 
 heroic demeanour interested even the wife of the 
 jailer in her behalf Madame de Stael published 
 a pamphlet, in which, with generous eloquence, 
 she urged the impolicy as well as injustice of 
 farther severity against the royal family. "Wo- 
 men of France," she concluded, " I appeal to 
 you: your empire is over if ferocity continues 
 to reign : your destinies are gone if your tears 
 fall in vain. Defend then the queen, by the arms 
 which Nature has given you : seek the infant, 
 who will perish if bereaved of his mother, and 
 must become the object of painful interest, from 
 the unheard-of calamities which have befallen 
 him. Let him ask on his knees the life of his 
 mother: childhood can pray; it can pray, when 
 as yet it knows not the calamity which it would 
 avert."! But her efforts were in vain. On the 
 14th of October, the queen was brought before 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal. 
 
 * Th., v., 369. t Lac., x., 230, 233. Th., v., 370. 
 
 t Lac, X., 233. 
 
 <) De Stael, Reflections sur le Proces de la Reine. (Eu- 
 vres, xvi., 32. Lac, i., 239, 241, 249. 
 
 An immense crowd assembled to witness her 
 trial. The spectacle of a auEEN being xrialofthe 
 tried by her subjects was as yet new queen. Oc- 
 in the history of the world ; the popu- 'oi^er 14. 
 lace, how much soever accustomed to sanguina- 
 ry scenes, were strongly excited by this event. 
 Sorrow and confinement had whitened her once 
 beautiful hair ; her figure and air still command- 
 ed the admiration of all who beheld her ; her 
 cheeks, pale and emaciated, were occasionally 
 tinged with a vivid colour at the mention of those 
 she had lost. Out of deference to her husband's 
 memory rather than her own inclination, she 
 pleaded to the court. Their interrogatories were 
 of no avail; her answers, like those of the king, 
 were clear, distinct, and unequivocal.* 
 
 As the form of examining witnesses was neces- 
 sary, the prosecutors called the Count d'Estaing, 
 who commanded the military at Versailles on the 
 3th of October, 1789; but, though the queen had 
 been his political opponent, he had too high a 
 sense of honour to tell anything but the truth, and 
 spoke only of her heroism on that tr}ing occa- 
 sion, and her noble resolution, expressed in his 
 presence, to die with her husband rather than ob- 
 tain life by leaving him. Manuel, notwithstand- 
 ing his hostility to the court during the Legisla- 
 tive Assembly, declared he could not depone to 
 one fact against the accused. The venerable 
 Bailly was next brought in : he now beheld the 
 fruits of his Democratic enthusiasm, and wept 
 when he saw the queen. When asked if he 
 knew " the woman Capet," he turned with a mel- 
 ancholy air to his sovereign, and, profoundly 
 bowing his head, said, " Yes, I know Madame." 
 He then declared that he could say nothing 
 against her, and that all the pretended accounts 
 extracted from the young prince, relative to the 
 journey to Varennes, were false. The Jacobins 
 were furious at his testimony, and, from the vio- 
 lence of their language, he easily anticipated the 
 fate which they reserved for himself Recourse 
 was then had to the testimony of other witnesses; 
 the monsters Hebert and Simon were examined, 
 and deponed that the dauphin had informed them 
 that he had been initiated into improper practices 
 by his mother; the queen, overwhelmed with 
 horror at the atrocious falsehood, remained si- 
 lent. A juryman having insisted that she should 
 answer: "If I have not hitherto spoken," said 
 .she, " it is because nature refused to answer to 
 such an accusation, brought against a mother." 
 Turning to the audience, with inexpressible dig- 
 nity, she added, " 1 appeal to all the mothers who 
 hear me whether such a thing is possible." It 
 was of no avail ; notwithstanding the eloquent 
 and courageous defence of her counsel, she was 
 condemned. t 
 
 At four in the morning of the day of her exe- 
 cution, she wrote a letter to the Prin- Upr heroic 
 cess Elizabeth, worthy to be placed be- conduct and 
 side the testament of Louis. " To execution, 
 you, my sister," said she, " I address myself for 
 the last time. I have been condemned, not to an 
 ignominious death — it is so only to the guilty ; 
 but to join your brother. Innocent like him, I 
 hope to emulate his firmness at the last hour. I 
 weep only for my children : I hope that one day, 
 when they have regained their rank, they may 
 be reunited to you, and feel the blessing of your 
 tender care. Let them ever recollect what 1 have 
 never ceased to inculcate, that a scrupulous dis- 
 
 * Lac, X., 250, 251 . Th., v., 374. 
 t Lac, X., 254. Th., v., 374, 375. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 223 
 
 charge of duty is the only foundation of a good 
 life; friend.ship and mutual confidence its best 
 eon.-<olation. May my .son never forget the la.st 
 M-ords ol his father, which I now repeat I'rom my- 
 self : Nn^cr to attempt to rcvc?ige tmr ikalh. I die 
 true to the Catholic religion ; the faith of my 
 fathers, which 1 have never ceased to profess : 
 deprived of all spiritual consolation, I can only 
 seek for pardon from Heaven. I ask Ibrgiveness 
 of all who know me ; from you in an especial 
 manner, my sister, for all the pain I may have 
 involuntarily given you : I pray for forgiveness 
 to all my enemies."* 
 When led out for execution, she was dressed 
 in white: she had cut otf her hair with 
 October 16. j^^^. ^^^^,^ \,^^^^_ Placed in a hurdle, 
 
 with her arms tied behind her back, she was con- 
 ducted by a long circuit to the place of execu- 
 tion, which was on the Place of the Revolution,+ 
 where her husband had perished. The people, 
 loused by Revolutionary emissaries, raised sav- 
 age shouts of joy as she moved along; the queen, 
 with a serene look, indicating pity rather than 
 sufiering, bore that last expression of popular 
 fury. When the procession reached the fatal 
 place, she ascended with a firm step the scaf- 
 fold ;i her countenance was illuminated by an 
 expression of Cluislian hope ; and the daughter 
 of the Cffisars died with a firmness that did hon- 
 our to her race. 
 
 Thus perished, at the age of thirty-nine, Marie 
 
 „ , . Antoinette, queen of France. Call- 
 lui- character. , . , ' >.„ » .i /• ^ ., 
 
 ed m early ale to the first throne in 
 
 Europe, surrounded by a splendid court and a flat- 
 tering nobility, blessed with an affectionate hu.s- 
 band and promising family, she seemed to have 
 approached, as nearly as the uncertainty of life 
 will admit, to the limits of human felicity. She 
 died, after years of sufiering and anguish, broken 
 by captivity, subdued b)' misfortune, bereft of 
 her children, degraded from her throne, on the 
 scaffold, where she had recently before seen her 
 husband perish. History has not recorded a 
 more terrible instance of reverse of fortune, or 
 more illustrative of the wisdom of the ancient 
 saying, " that none should be pronounced happy 
 till the day of their death. "§ 
 
 Her character has come comparatively pure and 
 xmsuUied out of the Revolutionary furnace. An 
 affectionate daughter and a faithful wife, she 
 preserved in the two most corrupted courts of 
 Europe the simplicity and affections of domestic 
 life. If in early youth her indiscretion and fa- 
 miliarity were such as pnidence w^ould condemn, 
 in later years her spirit and magnanimity were 
 such as justice must admire. She was more fit- 
 ted for the storms of adversity than the sunshine 
 of prcsperity. Ambitious and overbearing in 
 the earlier years of her reign, it was the suffer- 
 ings of her later days that drew forth the nobler 
 parts of her character. The worthy descendant 
 of Maria Theresa, she would have died in the 
 field combating her enemies, rather than live on 
 the throne subject to their control. Years of 
 misfortune quenched her spirit, but did not less- 
 en her courage; in the solitude of the Temple, 
 she discharged, with exemplary fidelity, every 
 duty to her husband and her children, and bore 
 a reverse of fortune, unparalleled even in that 
 age of calamity, with a heroism that never was 
 surpassed.il 
 
 Her marriage to Louis was considered, at the 
 
 * Lac., X., 259. t Now the Place Louis XV. 
 
 % Lac, X., 261. Toul., iv., 107. Th., v., 337. 
 4 Plutarch in Soloa. tl Toul., iv., 108, 109. 
 
 time, as a ma.ster-stroke in politics. A long al- 
 liance between the rival monarchies was antici- 
 |)ated from the propitious union, which seemed 
 to unite their destinies. It led to a war more ter- 
 rible than any which had yet shaken these pow- 
 ers ; to the re^^ealed capture of both capitals by 
 hostile armies; to mutual exasperation unprece- 
 dented between their people. So uncertain are 
 the conclusions of political wisdom, when found- 
 ed on pcr.sonal interests or connexions, and not 
 on the great and permanent principles which 
 govern human affairs. The manners of the 
 queen accelerated the Revolution ; her foreign 
 descent exasperated the public discontent ; her 
 undeserved death was one means ol' bringing 
 about its punishment. Slow, but sure, came the 
 hour of Germany's revenge. On that day twen- 
 ty years from wliich she ascended the scaffold, 
 commenced the fatal rout of France on the field 
 of Leipsic* 
 
 The execution of the queen was an act of de- 
 fiance by the National Convention to Violation of 
 all the crowned heads in Europe. It the tombs 
 was immediately followed by a meas- "^ ^t. Denis, 
 ure as unnecessary as it was barbarous — the vi- 
 olation of the tombs of St. Denis, and the profa- 
 nation of the sepulchres of the kings of France. 
 By a decree of the convention, these venerable 
 asylums of departed greatness were ordered to 
 be destroyed: a measure never adopted by the 
 English Parliament even during the phrensy of 
 the Covenant, and which proves that political fa- 
 naticism will push men to greater extremities 
 than religious. A furious multitude precipitated 
 itself out of Paris ; the tombs of Henry IV., of 
 Francis I., and of Louis XII., were ransacked, 
 and their bones scattered in the air. Even the 
 glorious name of Turenne could not protect his 
 grave from spoliation. His remains were al- 
 most undecayed, as when he received the fatal 
 wound on the banks of the Lech. The bones of 
 Charles V., the saviour of his country, were dis- 
 persed. At his feet was found the coffin of the 
 faithful Du Guesclin, and French hands pro- 
 faned the .skeleton before which English invasion 
 had rolled back. Most of these tombs were 
 found to be strongly secured. Much time, and 
 no small exertion of skill and labour, was re- 
 quired to burst their barriers. They would 
 have resisted forever the decay of time or the vi- 
 olence of enemies ; they yielded to the fury of 
 domestic dissension. + 
 
 This was immediately followed by a general 
 attack upon the monuments and re- Destmction 
 mains of antiquity throughout all of monu- 
 France. The sepulchres of the great ments over 
 of past times, of the barons and gen- ''" France, 
 erals of the feudal ages, of the paladins, and of 
 the Crusaders, were involved in one undistin- 
 guished ruin. It seemed as if the glories of an- 
 tiquity were forgotten, or sought to be buried in 
 oblivion. The tomb of Du Guesclin shared the 
 same fate as that of Louis XIV. The sculls of 
 monarchs and heroes were tossed about like 
 footballs by the profane multitude : like the 
 grave-diggers in Hamlet, they made a jest of the 
 lips before which nations had trembled. § 
 
 The monumental remains which had escaped 
 their sacrilegious fury were subsequently col- 
 lected by order of the Directory, and placed in a 
 great museum at Paris, where they long remain- 
 ed piled and heaped together in broken confu- 
 
 * On Oct. 16, 1813. She died Oct. 16, 1793. 
 t Chateaub., Etud. Hist., iv., 169. Lac, Pr. Hist., ii., 
 142, and Hist., x., 265. t Lac., z., 264, 265. 
 
HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 224 
 
 sion: an emblem of the Revolution, which de- 
 stroyed in a lew years what centuries ot glory 
 
 ^^Having'^massacred the great of the present 
 and insulted the iUustnous ol tormer 
 »rau. ages, nothing remained to the Hevo- 
 itybviherau- lutionists but to duect their ven- 
 nicipality. ^eance against Heaven its61l. i a- 
 che Hebert, and Chaumette, the leaders ot the 
 munkipalitV publicly expressed their determi- 
 Sn '■ ?o (letLone the King of Heaven as well 
 L the monarchs of the earth." To accomplish 
 this design, they prevailed on Gobel 
 Nov. 7, 1793. jj^g apostate Constitutional bishop ot 
 Paris to appear at the bar of the assembly, ac- 
 coripknied by some of the clergy ot his diocese, 
 S? there abjure the Christian faith. He de- 
 darcd " that no other national religion was now 
 Required but that of liberty, equality and moral- 
 irv' " Manv of the Constitutional bishops and 
 cler-v in the convention joined in the proposi- 
 tion Crowds of drunken artisans and shame- 
 ess prostitutes crowded to the bar, and trampled 
 under their feet the sacred vases consecrated for 
 i<^es to the holiest purposes of religion itie 
 sections of Paris shortly after followed the ex- 
 ample of the Constitutional clergy and publicly 
 abjured the Christian religion. The cWches 
 were stripped of all their ornaments; their plate 
 and valuable contents brought m heaps to the 
 municipality and the convention, from whence 
 thev wire sent to the Mint to be melted doum. 
 Trampling under foot the images ot our Saviour 
 and the Virgin, they elevated, amid shouts 
 ^°''- '"• of applause, the busts of Marat and Le- 
 pelletier and danced round them, singing paro- 
 dies on the Hallelujah, and dancing the Carmag- 
 
 '^"sliortlv after, a still more indecent exhibidon 
 took place before the assembly. 1 he 
 The Goddess ^.g^ebrated prophecy of Father Beau- 
 trod^u'ceT.^; regard wai accomplished: " Beauty 
 the conven- without modesty was seen usurping 
 tion. tiie place of the Holy of Holies!" 
 
 Hebert, Chaumette, and their associates ap- 
 peared at the bar, and declared that '-God did 
 not exist, and that the worship of Reason was 
 to be substituted in his stead." A veiled female, 
 arrayed in blue draper)', was brought into the 
 assembly ; and Chaumette, taking her by the 
 hand " Mortals," said he, " cease to tremble be- 
 fore the powerless thunders of a God whom your 
 fears have created. Henceforth acknowledge no 
 divinity but Reason. I offer you its noblest and 
 purest image ; if you must have idols, sacrifice 
 only to such as this." When, letting fall the 
 veil he exclaimed, " Fall before the august Sen 
 ate of Freedom, oh! Veil of Reason!" At the 
 same time, the goddess appeared personified by 
 a celebrated beauty, the wile of Momoro, a print- 
 er known in more than one character to most 
 of the convention. The goddess, after being em- 
 braced by the president, was mounted on a mag- 
 nificent car, and conducted, amid an immense 
 crowd to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, to take 
 the pkce of the deity. There she was elevated 
 on the high altar, and received the adoration of 
 all present, while the young women, her attend- 
 ants whose alluring looks already sufficiently 
 indicated their profession, retired into the chap- 
 els round the choir, where every species ol licen- 
 tiousness and obscenity was indulged m without 
 control, with hardly an y veil from the public 
 
 * Th., v., 429, 430. Lac., x., 300, 302. Tout., iv., 124. 
 
 gaze To such a length was this earned, that 
 Robespierre allerwaid declared that Chaumette 
 deserved death for the abominations he had per- 
 mitted on that occasion. Thenceforward that 
 ancient edifice was called tlie Temple of Reasmi* 
 i'he services of religion were now universally 
 abandoned; the pulpits were deserted Universal 
 throughout all the revolutionized dis- abandon- 
 tricts • baptisms ceased ; the burial ment of rc- 
 service was no longer heard; the sick ^^^^^^^'^'^ 
 received no commimion ; the dying ^j^^ church, 
 no consolation. A heavier anathema 
 than that of papal power pressed upon the peo- 
 pled realm of France— the anathema ol Heaven, 
 inflicted by the madness of her own inhabitants. 
 The village bells were silent ; Sunday was ob- 
 literated. Infancv entered the wwld without a 
 blessing; age lell it without a hope. In lieu of 
 the services of the Church, the licentious fetes of 
 the new worship Avere performed by the most 
 abandoned females; it appeared as it the Chns- 
 tian trath had been succeeded by the orgies of 
 the Babylonian priests or the grossness of the 
 Hindoo theocracy. On every tenth day a Revo- 
 lutionary leader ascended the pulpit, and preached 
 atheism to the bewildered audience ; Marat was 
 universally deified, and even the instrament of 
 death sanctified by the name of the " Holy Guil- 
 lotine." On all the public cemeteries the in- 
 scription was placed, " Death is an Eternal 
 Sleep." The comedian Monort, in the church 
 of St. Roch, carried impiety to its utmost length. 
 " God! if you exist," said he, " avenge your in- 
 jured name. / bid you defiance; you remain si- 
 lent • you dare not launch your thunders ; who 
 after this will believe in your existence T' It is 
 by slower means, and the operation ot general 
 laws, that the destinies of Providence are accom- 
 plished. A more convincing proof of divine 
 government than the destruction of the blas- 
 phemer was about to be afforded ; the annihi- 
 lation of the guilty by their own hands, and the 
 consequence of the passions which they them- 
 selves had imchained; the voluntary return of 
 a rebellious people to the faith of their fathers, 
 from the experienced impossibility ol living 
 without its precepts.T 
 
 After an interval of seven years, the worship 
 of Christianity was restored by Napoleon, with 
 the general approbation of the French people. 
 But a ruinous effect was produced by this long 
 cessation of its services ; a great portion of the 
 youth of France, now occupying the most im- 
 portant situations in the countr)-, were brought 
 up without receiving any religious impressions 
 in early life. This evil is still severely felt ; its 
 consequences are irremediable ; it has lorever 
 disqualified the French from the enjoyment ol 
 freedom because it has extinguished the leelmgs 
 of duty, on which alone it can be founded in the 
 young and influential part of the people. 
 
 The most sacred relations of life were at the 
 same period placed on a new footing, General and 
 suited to the extravagant ideas of the eicessive 
 times. Marriage was declared a civil d'S3olu^'°n 
 contract, binding only during the plea- 
 sure of the contracting parties. Divorce imme- 
 diately became general ; the corruption of man- 
 ners reached a pitch unknown during the worst 
 days of the monarchy ; the vices of the maij 
 quises and countesses of Louis XV. descended 
 to the shopk eepers and artisans of Pans. So m- 
 
 * Hist, de la Conv., iii., 192-196. Lac, x., 307, 308. 
 Toul., IV., 124. Th., v., 431. 432. Mi?., h., 299. 
 t Lac, X., 308, 309, 331. Toul., iv., 124. Mig., u., 299. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 225 
 
 discriminate did concubinage become, that, by a 
 decree of the convention, bastards were declared 
 entilled to an equal share ol' the succession with 
 legitimate children. Mademoiselle Arnout, a 
 celebrated comedian, expressed the public feeling 
 when she called " Moniage the Sacrmmit of 
 A'/iilfrrij.'' The divorces in Paris in the first 
 months of 1793 were 5G2, while the marriages 
 were only 1785 ; a proportion probably unexam- 
 pled among mankind. The consequences soon 
 became ap])arent. Before the era of the Con- 
 sulate, one half of the whole births in Paris were 
 illegitimate ; and at this moment, notwithstand- 
 ing the apparent reformation of manners which 
 has taken place since the Restoration, the disso- 
 lution of manners is extreme.* 
 
 A decree of the Convention suppressed all the 
 academies, public schools, and colleges, even 
 those of medicine and surger}'; their whole rev- 
 enues were confiscated. New schools, on a plan 
 traced out by Condorcet, were directed; hut no 
 efficient steps were taken to ensure their estab- 
 lishment, and education for a number of years 
 ceased through all France. One establishment 
 only, that of the Polytechnic School, takes its 
 date from this melancholy epoch. During the 
 long night, the whole force of the human inind 
 was bent upon the mathematical sciences, which 
 nourished from the concentration of its powers, 
 and were soon illuminated by the most splendid 
 light.t 
 
 In the general havoc, even the establishments 
 
 ^ „« ► of charity were not overlooked. The 
 Confiscation -^ jr- , i ■ i ■ , 
 
 of the pnip- revenues of the hospitals and humane 
 ertyofhos- institutions throughout France were 
 pitals and confiscated by the despots whom the 
 the poor. people had seated on the throne ; their 
 domains sold as part of the national property. 
 Soon the terrible efiects of the suppression of all 
 permanent sources of relief to the destitute be- 
 I'ame apparent ; mendicity advanced with fright- 
 ful steps ; and the condition of the poor through- 
 out France becaine such as to call forth the 
 loudest lamentations from the few enlightened 
 philanthropists who still followed the cai" of the 
 Re volution. J 
 
 The decemvirs next proceeded to destroy their 
 Arrest and fori'^er friends, and the earliest support- 
 <leath of ers of the Revolution. Bailly, mayor 
 Bailly. of Paris, and president of the assem- 
 Nov. 11. yy^ Q^ occasion of the celebrated Jeu 
 de Paunie, was arrested and brought before the 
 Revolutionar/ Tribunal. His profound and 
 eloquent scientific researches, his great services 
 in the cause of liberty, his enlightened philan- 
 thropy, pleaded in vain before that sanguinary 
 court. The recollection of the Champs de Mars, 
 of the red flag, and the courageous stand which 
 he had made with La Fayette against the fury 
 of the multitude, was present to the minds of 
 his prosecutors. The witnesses adduced spoke 
 against him with an unusual degi'ee of asperity. 
 He was condemned to die, and in his case, as he 
 had foreseen, a refinement of cruelty was exerted. 
 The Champs de Mars was selected as the place 
 of his execution ; an immense crowd of vindic- 
 tive Jacobins, among whom were a large pro- 
 portion of women, and persons whom he had 
 saved from famine during his mayoralty, assem- 
 bled to witness his death ; on foot, in the most 
 dreadful weather, the unhappy victim was led 
 
 * Dupin, i., 79. Lac, x., 332, 333. Burke, viit., 176. 
 Reg. Peace. + Lac, x., 321, 322. 
 
 t Report sur la Mendicity, par Liancourt, ii., 20. Lac, 
 I., 333. 
 
 Vol. I.— F f 
 
 behind the guillotine, during a tedious passage of 
 two hours, from the Champs de Mars, to which 
 he was first brought, to the place finally fixed on 
 for his execution opposite Cliaillot. During this 
 passage he frequently fell ; he was assailed with 
 hisses and pelted with mud ; and the first presi- 
 dent of the assembly received several inhuman 
 ])lows from the populace. At the Champs de 
 Mars, the red flag, emblematic of the martial 
 law which he had authorized, was biuned over his 
 head, and Bailly was led again on foot, amid a 
 drencliing fall of .snow and sleet, to the banks of 
 the river, where he was executed. " You trem- 
 ble, Bailly," said one of the spectators. " My 
 friend," said the old man, " it is only from cold."* 
 The eloquent Barnave, one of the most upright 
 members of the Constituent Assembly, of Bamave 
 was soon after condemned, notwith- andCondov- 
 standing a defence by himself of un- cet. 
 rivalled pathos and ability. Duport Dutertre, 
 formerly minister of Louis XVI., on the same 
 day shared the same fate. Condorcet had fled 
 when the lists of proscription were first prepared 
 by the victors on the 2d of June ; for eight months 
 he was concealed in Paris, and employed the te- 
 dious hours of solitude in composing his celebra- 
 ted " Esquisse des Progres de TEsprit-Humain," 
 a Avork in which much learning is illustrated by 
 fervid eloquence; and the warm but visionary 
 anticipations of future improvement were indul- 
 ged, amid the deepest circumstances of present 
 disaster. In gratitude to the hostess who had 
 sheltered him, he wrote a poem, containing a 
 sentiment descriptive of the feelings of his party 
 during those melancholy times : 
 
 " Choisi d'etre oppresseur on la victime, 
 .T'embrassai le malheur et leur laissai le crime." 
 
 Terrified by the numerous lists of persons con- 
 demned for concealing the proscribed, he decla- 
 red to his generous protector the resolution to 
 leave her. " I must not remain any longer with 
 you; I am horsdeloi." "But we," replied she, 
 " are not hors de rkumanite." He set out, never- 
 theless, disguised as a common labourer; at the 
 village of Clamart, the fineness of his linen awa- 
 kened the suspicion of his landlady, who had him 
 arrested and sent to prison, where next morning 
 he was found dead from the effects of a speedy 
 poison, which, like many others in those days of 
 terror, he constantly carried about his person.t 
 
 General Custine, who commanded the army 
 of Flanders at the time of the capture 
 of Valenciennes by the English, was ^"'^ Cust.ne. 
 denounced by the agents of the convention, and 
 shortly after brought to the Revolutionarv Tribu- 
 nal. His beautiful and gifted daughter-in-law 
 in vain sat daily by his side, and exerted herself 
 to the utmost in his behalf; in vain General Bara- 
 gua}^ d'Hilliers, with generous courage, support- 
 ed him by his military knowledge and experience. 
 Her grace, and the obvious injustice of the ac- 
 cusation, produced some impression on the judg- 
 es, and a few inclined to an acquittal ; immedi- 
 ately the Revolutionary Tribunal itself was com- 
 plained of at the Jacobin club. " It gives me 
 great pain," said Hebert, at that great centre of 
 the Revolution, "to be obliged to denounce an 
 authority which was the hope of the patriots, and 
 hitherto has so well deserved their confidence. 
 But the Revolutionary^ Tribunal is on the point of 
 absolving a guilty person, in favour of whom the 
 beauties of Paris are moving heaven and earth. 
 
 * Lac, X., 292. Th., x., 294, 396. 397. Toul., jv., 130. 
 t Th.,ix., 286, 287. 
 
226 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 The daughter of Custine, a.s skilful an actress in 
 this city as her father was at the head of the ar- 
 mies, solicits every one in his behalf" Robes- 
 pierre made some cutting remarks on the spirit 
 of chicanery and form which had taken pos.ses- 
 sion of the tribunal, and strongl)' supported his 
 guilt. The consequences were decisive : he was 
 found guilty, and condcnmcd amid the rapturous 
 applause of the Jacobins and Cordeliers who fdl- 
 ed the court. He was sent to the scafibld, and, 
 though shaken for a moment, died firmly. The 
 crowd murmured because he appeared on the la- 
 tal chariot with a minister of religion liy his side. 
 General Houchard,the second in commaJid,who 
 had denounced Custine, notwithstanding his re- 
 cent success over the allies at Hoondschote, 
 shortly after shared the same fate; and Bara- 
 guay d'Hilliers, reserved for higher destinies, 
 was sent to prison, from whence he was only de- 
 livered by the fall of Robespierre.* 
 
 The Duke of Orleans, the early and interested 
 Trial and ex- instigator of the Revolution, was its 
 ecutionofthe next victim. Robespierre, at the hall 
 Duke of Or- of the Jacobins, had already pro- 
 leans, nounced his doom; the assembly, 
 once his hireling adulators, unanimously sup- 
 ported the proposal. In vain he alleged his ac- 
 cession to the disorders of the 5th of October, his 
 support of the revolt of August 10, his vote 
 against the king on January 17: his condemna- 
 tion speedily was pronounced. He demanded 
 only one favour, which was granted, that his ex- 
 ecution should be postponed for twenty-four 
 hours. In the interval, he had a repast prepared 
 with care, on which he leasted with more than 
 usual avidity ; when led out to execution, he ga- 
 zed for a time, with a smile on his countenance, 
 on the Palais Royal, the scene of his former or- 
 gies. He was detained above a quarter of an 
 hour in front of that palace by order of Robes- 
 pierre, who had in vain asked his daughter's 
 hand in mamage, and had promised, if he would 
 relent in that extremity, to excite a tumult which 
 would save his life. Depraved as he was, he 
 had too much honourable feeling left to consent 
 to such a sacrifice, and remained in expectation 
 of death, without giving the expected signal of 
 acquiescence for twenty minutes, when he was 
 permitted to continue his journey to the scafl^old. 
 He met his fate with stoical fortitude ; and it is 
 pleasing to have to record one redeeming trait 
 at the close of a life stained by so much selfish 
 passion and guilty ambition — he preferred death 
 to sacrificing his daughter to the tyrant. Never 
 was more strongly exemplified the effect of ma- 
 terialism and infidelity, Ln rendering men callous 
 to futurity, and degrading a naturally noble dis- 
 position. The multitude applauded his execu- 
 tion ; not a voice was raised in his favour, though 
 it was mainly composed of the very men who 
 had been instigated by his adulators, and fed by 
 his extravagance.t 
 
 The destruction of Bailly, Custine, and the 
 Duke of Orleans, annihilated the party attached 
 to a constitutional monarchy. The early objects 
 of the Revolution were thus frastrated, its first 
 supporters destroyed by the passions they had 
 awakened among the people. The overthrow of 
 the Gironde extinguished the hope of a republic ; 
 the massacres of the Constitutionalists, that of a 
 limited monarchy. The prophecy of Vergniaud 
 
 * Lac.xi., 296,297. Th., v., 297, 299. Tout., iv., 62, 
 131. Th., X., 297. 
 
 t Hist, de la Conv., iii., 180. Lac., xi., 889, 290. Toul., 
 iv., 121, 122. 
 
 was rapidly approaching its accomplishment; 
 the Revolution, like Saturn, was successively 
 devouring all its progeny. 
 
 Two parties, however, still remained opposed, 
 on difierent principles, to the decemvirs, and 
 whose destruction was indispensable to their 
 despotic authority. The.se parties were the 
 Moderates and the Anarchists. At the head of 
 the former were Danton and Camille Desmou- 
 lins ; the latter was supported by the powerful 
 municipality of Paris.* 
 
 it has been already observed that Danton and 
 his party were strangers to the real Estrangement 
 objects of the revolt on May 31st. oftheDanton- 
 They aided the populace in the strug- ists and ruling 
 gle with the convention, but they Po^^"^- 
 had no intention of establishing the oligarchy, 
 which directed and finally triumphed by their 
 exertions. After the overthrow of the assembly, 
 Robespierre urged Danton to retire to the coun- 
 try. "A tempest is arising," said he; "the Jaco- 
 bins have not forgot your relations with Du- 
 mourier. They hate your manners ; your vo- 
 luptuous and indolent habits are at variance with 
 their energy. Withdraw for a moment ; trust 
 to a friend, who will watch over your dangers, 
 and warn you of the first moment to return." 
 Danton followed his advice, nothing loath to get 
 quit of a faction of which he began to dread the 
 excesses ; and his party were entirely excluded 
 from the dictatorial govemment.t 
 
 The leaders of this party were Danton, Phil- 
 ippeaux, Camille Desmoulins, Fabre d'Eglan- 
 tine, and Westennann, the tried leader of Au- 
 gust 10th. Their principles were, that terror 
 was to be used only for the establishment of free- 
 dom, not made an instrument of oppression in 
 the hands of those who had gained it ; they wish- 
 ed, above all things, that the Republicans should 
 remain masters of the field of battle, but, having 
 done so, use their victory with moderation. In 
 pursuance of these priiiciples, they reprobated 
 the violent proceedings of the dictators, after the 
 victory of the 3lst of May had ensured the tri- 
 umph of the populace ; desired to humble the 
 anarchists of the municipality, to put an end to 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal, discharge from con- 
 finement those imprisoned as suspected persons, 
 and dissolve the despotic committees of govem- 
 ment.j 
 
 The other party, that of the municipality, car- 
 ried their ambition and extravagance even be- 
 yond the decemvirs. Instead of government, 
 they professed a desire to establish an extreme 
 local democracy; instead of religion, the conse- 
 cration of materialism. As usual in democrat- 
 ic contests, they carried their revolutionary prin- 
 ciples beyond the dominant faction, and strove 
 thus to supplant them in the affections of the 
 populace. They had witnessed with extreme 
 dissatisfaction the committees usurp all the pow- 
 ers of government after the revolt of the 3lst of 
 May, and thus reap for themselves all the fruits 
 of the victory which their forces had mainly 
 contributed to achieve. In cruelty, obscenity, 
 and atheism, they exceeded the dictatorial gov- 
 ernment ; but these were only means to an end ; 
 in the passion for tyrannical power they yielded 
 to none, provided only it was wielded by them- 
 selves. § 
 
 These two parties, as usual in civil dissen- 
 sions, mutually reproached each other with the 
 
 * Mig., ii., 300. t Lac.,Pr.Hist.,ii.,91. Mig.,ii.,301 
 t Th., vi., 6, 7. Lac, Pr. Hist., ii., 91. Mig., ii., 301. 
 >> Th., ii., 298. Mig., ii., 298. Toul., vi., 286. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 227 
 
 public calamities. Th-3 Anarchists incessantly 
 charged the Moderates Avith corruption, aJid be- 
 ing the secret agents of foreign courts. " It is 
 }'ou," replied the Dantonists, " who are the real 
 accomplices of the .stranger; ever}-thing draws 
 you towards them, both the common violence of 
 )'0ur language, and the joint design to overturn 
 ever}'thing in France. Behold the magistracy, 
 which arrogates to itself more than legislative 
 authorily; which regulates everything, police, 
 subsistence, worship ; which has substituted a 
 new religion for the old one ; replaced one su- 
 perstition by another still more absurd ; which 
 openly preaches atheism, and causes itself to be 
 imitated by all the municipalities in France. 
 Consider those war-offices, from whence so many 
 extortioners issue, who carry desolation into the 
 provinces, and discredit the Revolution by their 
 conduct. Observe the municipality and the 
 committees : what do they propose to them- 
 selves, if it is not to usurp the executive and le- 
 gislative authority, to dispossess the convention, 
 and dissolve the government "? Who could sug- 
 gest such a design but the external enemies of 
 France !"* 
 
 Camille Desmoulins, in a celebrated pamphlet, 
 Publication entitled "Le Vieux Cordelier," drew, 
 oftheVieux under a professed description of 
 Cordelier. Rome under the emperors, a striking 
 picture of the horrors of that gloomy period. 
 " Ever}-thing," said he, " under that terrible gov- 
 ernment, was made the groundwork of suspi- 
 cion. Has a citizen popularit}'"? He is a rival 
 of the dictator, who might create disturbances. 
 Does he avoid society, and live retired by his 
 fireside? That is to ruminate in private on sin- 
 ister designs. Is he rich 1 That renders the 
 danger the greater that he will corrupt the citi- 
 zens by his largesses. Is he poor"? None so 
 dangerous as those who have nothing to lose. 
 Is he thoughtful and melancholy 1 He is re- 
 volving what he calls the calamities of his coun- 
 tr}'. Is he gay and dissipated 1 He is conceal- 
 ing, like Cffisar, ambition under the mask of 
 pleasure. Is he virtuous and austere 1 He has 
 con.stituted himself the censor of the govern- 
 ment. Is he a philosopher, an orator, a poetl 
 He will soon acquire more consideration than 
 the rulers of the state. Has he acquired repu- 
 tation in v^^arl His talents only render him the 
 more formidable, and make it indispensable to 
 get quit of his authority. The natural death of 
 a celebrated man is become so rare that histori- 
 ans transmit it as a matter worthy of record to 
 future ages. Even the death of so many great 
 and good citizens seems a less calamity than the 
 insolence and scandalous fortune of their de- 
 nouncers. Every day the accuser makes his 
 triumphal entr}-^ into the palace of death, and 
 reaps the rich harvest which is presented to his 
 hands. The tribunals, once the protectors of 
 life and property, have become the organs of 
 butchery, where robbery and murder have usurp- 
 ed the names of confiscation and punishment. "t 
 Such is the picture drawn of the effect of popu- 
 lar government by the man who was called the 
 first apostle of libertj' ! And how striking the 
 coincidence, that, in drawing with the pencil of 
 Tacitus a picture of Roman servitude under 
 Nero and Caligula, he was exhibiting a portrait 
 which none could fail to recognise of France, 
 under the government which his own democrat- 
 
 * Th., vi., 10. 11. 
 
 t Vieux Cordelier. Rer. Mem., xlii., p. 50, SI, 53. 
 
 ic transports had contributed to impose upon its 
 inhabitants. 
 
 Danton and his friends made the greatest ef- 
 forts to detach Robespierre from the ^a- ,„ 
 
 <■ .. ' ... . , Enortsof Dan- 
 
 sangumary faction with whom he ton to detach 
 acted, and at first with some appear- Robespierre 
 ranee of success. He had taken ^^""^ ^^« m"- 
 some steps towards a moderate gov- ■''<^'P^l"y- 
 emment; in the convention he had publicly stop- 
 ped the trial of the seventy-three deputies, who 
 were detained in prison, in consequence of hav- 
 ing protested against the arrest of the Girondists. 
 He had reprobated the ultra-revolutionary meas- 
 ures of Hebert and the municipality, and brought 
 about a decree of the convention, recognising 
 the exi.stence of the Supreme Being. He had 
 not only read, but corrected the proof-sheets of 
 the " Vieux Cordelier," where he was adjured 
 in the most touching language to embrace the 
 sentiments of humanity. Already his populari- 
 ty, in consequence, was on the wane. He was 
 accused of Moderatisni, and the groups of the 
 Jacobins began to murmur at his proceedings.* 
 
 Robespierre, with all his fanaticism in favour 
 of Democracy, felt as strongly as any man in 
 France the necessity both of some religious im- 
 pressions to fonn a curb upon the passions of the 
 people, and of a strong central government to 
 check their excesses. He early felt a horror at 
 the infidel atrocities of the municipality, and 
 saw that such principles, if persisted in, would 
 utterly disorganize society throughout France. 
 With the sanguinary spirit of the times, he re- 
 solved to effect it by their extermination. The 
 first indication of this determination appeared in 
 his speech at the Jacobin club in the end 
 ofNovember. "Let men," said he, "an- Nov.21. 
 imated by a pure zeal, lay upon the altar of their 
 countrj' the useless and pompous monuments of 
 superstition ; but by what title does hypocrisy 
 come here, to mingle its influence with that of 
 patriotism % What right have men, hitherto un- 
 knoAvn in the career of the Revolution, to come 
 into the midst of j'ou, to seek in passing events 
 a false popularity, to hurry on the patriots to fa- 
 tal measures, and to throw among them the seeds 
 of trouble and discord 1 By what title do the}- 
 disturb the existing worship in the name of Lib- 
 erty, and attack fanaticism by a band of another 
 kind of fanatics 1 There are men who would go 
 farther : who, under the pretence of destroying 
 superstition, would establish atheism itself. Ev- 
 ery philosopher, every individual, is at liberty to 
 adopt whatever opinion he pleases : whoever im- 
 putes it to him as a crime is a fool ; but the leg- 
 islature would be a thousand times more blame- 
 able who should act on such a system. Atheism 
 is an aristocratic belief. The idea of a Supreme 
 Being, who watches over oppressed innocence, 
 and punishes triumphant crime, is, and ever will 
 be, popular. The people, the unfortunate, will 
 ever applaud it; it will never find detractors but 
 among the rich and the guilty. If God did not 
 exist, it -wovld be iieccssary to invent his be-i.ng."it 
 
 But, while thus preparing the way for the de- 
 struction of the Anarchists, Robespierre saw that 
 it was necessaiy to make a sacrifice to the Rev- 
 olutionary party, in order to avoid the blasting 
 imputation of moderation, and keep up his repu- 
 tation for unflinching resolution and incorrupti- 
 ble integrit}'. For this purpose he resolved, at 
 
 * Mig., ii., 305, 307. Lac., Pr. Hist., ii., 136, 138. Vieux 
 Cordelier, 73. t Th., vi., 15, 17. 
 
 t " Si Dieu n'existait pas il faudrait I'inventer."— THIERS, 
 vi., 17. 
 
228 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 the same time, tliat he should cut off Hebert, 
 Chaumette, and the Anarchists; to strike with 
 equal severity against Danton, Camille Desmou- 
 lius, and the Moderate party. By so doing, he 
 would keep up the appearance of even-handed 
 justice, establish the supremacy of the Commit- 
 tee of Public Safety over all the factions in the 
 state, and remove the only rival that stood be- 
 tween him and sole doauinion.* 
 
 Though ignorant that his destruction was re- 
 solved on by the all-powerful Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety, ' Danton was aware that for some 
 months he had been waning in popularity, and 
 he loudly demanded at the Jacobins that the 
 groimds of complaint should be exhibited against 
 him. Robespierre instantly ascended the tri- 
 bune. " Danton," said he, " demands a com- 
 mission to examine into his conduct : I consent 
 to it, if he thinks it can be of any service to him. 
 He demands a statement of the grounds of com- 
 plaint against Mm: I agree to it. Danton, you 
 are accused of being an emigrant; of having 
 retired to Switzerland ; of having feigned ill- 
 ness to conceal your flight ; of being desirous 
 to become regent under Louis XVII. ; of hav- 
 ing made arrangements at a fixed on time to 
 proclaim that remnant of the Capets ; of be- 
 ing the chief of a counter-revolutionary conspir- 
 acy; of being a Avorse enemy to France than 
 either Pitt cr Cobourg, England, Austria, or 
 Prussia; of having filled the Mountain with 
 your creatures. It is said that we need not dis- 
 quiet ourselves about the inferior agents of for- 
 eign powers; that their conspiracies merit only 
 contempt; but you, you alone, should be led out 
 to the scaffold !'' Loud applauses followed this 
 bold declaration; -when they had subsided, he 
 continued, turning to his astoni.shed rival, "Do 
 you not Imow, Danton, that the more a man is 
 gifted with energy and public spirit, the more 
 the public enemies conspire for his overthrow 1 
 Do you not know, does not every one who hears 
 me know, that that is an infallible test of real 
 virtue 1 It the defender of liberty was not ca- 
 lumniated, it would be a proof that we had no 
 longer either generals, or priests, or nobles to 
 fear." He then demanded that all those who had 
 anything to reproach against Danton should 
 come forward; but none, after such a declara- 
 tion, ventured to say a word. Upon that, amid 
 the applause of the meeting, he received the fra- 
 ternal embrace from the president. By this hyp- 
 ocritical conduct, Robespierre both ascertained 
 the extent of the public leeling against his great 
 rival, and threw him oft' his g-uard by feigned ex- 
 pressions of regard. t 
 
 Shortly after, a new decree, augmenting the 
 despotic powers of the Committee of 
 Dec. 4, 1793. pubjje Safety, was passed. " Anar- 
 chy," said Billaud Varenires, in the preamble of 
 the report on which the decree was foimded, 
 "menaces eveiy republic alike in its cradle and 
 its old age. Our part is to strive against it." 
 On this principle, the decree enacted that a Bul- 
 letin of the Laws should be established ; that four 
 individuals should have the exclusive right of 
 framing it; that it should be printed on a partic- 
 ular paper and tj^pe, and sent down to the prov- 
 inces by post. The convention was at the same 
 time declared the "Centre of Impulsion of Gov- 
 ernment:" a dubious phra.se, under which was 
 veiled the despotic authority of the committees. 
 The authority of the Departmental Assemblies 
 
 * Th., vi., 186, 187. 
 
 t Th., vi., 21, 22. 
 
 was abolished for everything except matters of 
 local administration ; and they were forbidden, 
 under pain of death, to correspond on any politi- 
 cal matter with each other, raise forces or taxes 
 of their own authority, or correspond with or re- 
 ceive instructions from any body but the com- 
 mittees at Paris. Thus the liberties of tlie prov- 
 inces were rapidly peri.shing under tlie despotic 
 sway of the Committees of Public Safety; and 
 France was already beginning to enter the bloody 
 path which leads from Democratic anarchy to 
 regular government.* 
 
 Meanwhile the strife of the Dantonists and An- 
 archi.sts became daily more conspicuotis. One 
 of the latter, Ronsin, had afiixed over all the 
 walls of Paris a placard, in which he declared 
 that, out of 140,000 souls at Lyons, 1500 only 
 were not accomplices of the revolt in that city, 
 and that before February all the guilty should 
 perish, and their bodies be floated by the Rhone 
 to Toulon. Camille Desmoulins vigorously at- 
 tacked this atrocious faction, and in an especial 
 manner fastened on the infamotts Hebert, whom 
 he accused of being " a miserable intriguer, a 
 caterer for the guillotine, a traitor paid by Pitt ; 
 a wretch who had received 200,000 francs at dif- 
 ferent times from almost all the factions in the 
 Republic, to calumniate their adversaries; a 
 thief and robber, who had been expelled from 
 being a lackey in the theatre for theft, and now 
 pretended to drench France with blood by his 
 prostituted journal." Such was the man, on the 
 testimony of the Revolutionists themselves, on 
 whose evidence Marie Antoinette had been con- 
 demned by the Revolutionary Tribunal. " It is 
 in vain," he added, "to think of stifling my voice 
 by threats of arrest : we all know that the An- 
 archists are preparing a new revolt, like the 31st 
 of May; but we may say with Brutus and 
 Cicero, 'we fear too much exile, poverty, and 
 death.' When our soldiers are daily braving 
 death in sight of the enemy's batteries in the 
 cause of freedom, shall we, their unworthy lead- 
 ers, be intimidated by the menaces of P^re Du- 
 chesne, or prevented by him from achieving a 
 still greater victory over the ultra- Revolution- 
 ists, who would ruin the Revolution by staining 
 every step it makes with gore1"t 
 
 While the parties were in this state of exaspera- 
 tion at each other, the Committee of sec i a 
 Public Safety boldly interposed be- ment iietween 
 tween them, and resolved to make RobespieiTe 
 their discords the means of destroj-- ^"^^ '^^e mwii- 
 ing both. Profiting with political '^'P^'^'y- 
 dexterity by this singular situation of the par- 
 ties, Robespierre and the members of the muni- 
 cipality came to an understanding, the condition 
 of which was the mutual abandonment of their 
 personal friends. Robespierre gave up Danton, 
 Camille Desmoulins, and their supporters, to the 
 vengeance of the municipality ; and they sur- 
 rendered Hebert, Chatimette, Ronsin, Clootz, 
 and their party, to the decemvirs. By this ar- 
 rangement two important objects were gained: 
 a formidable faction was destroyed, and a rival 
 to the reputation of the dictator was removed.; 
 
 RobespieiTe first announced this project of 
 double vengeance in the assembly. Announce- 
 " Without," said he, " all the tyrants ment of the 
 of the earth are conspiring again.'^t project in the 
 you ; within, all their friends are com-entum. 
 "aiding their efforts ; they will continue to do so 
 
 * Th., vi.,30, 31. 
 
 t Th., vi., 34, 128. 129. Viexii Cordelier, Nos. 3, 9, 17. 
 
 + Mig., i!., 306. Th., vi., 186, 187. Lac, ii., 139. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 229 
 
 till hope is severed from crime. "We must stifle 
 the exterior and internal enemies of the Repub- 
 lic, or perish with it. In such circumstances, 
 the only principles of government are to govern 
 the people by the force of Reason, and their ene- 
 mies by the force of Terror. The spring of a 
 popular government in peace is Virtue ; in a 
 revolution, it is Virtue and Terror: Virtue, 
 without which Terror is fatal — Terror, without 
 which Virtue is impotent. The government of 
 a revolution is the despoti-sm of liberty against 
 tyranny. The opposite factious with which we 
 have to contend, march under different banners 
 and by dillerent routes, but their object is the same, 
 the disorganization of the popular government, 
 and the triumph of tyranny. The one tends to 
 this object by its leaning to weakness ; the other, 
 by its tendency to excess." " The one of these 
 factions," said St. Ju.st, " would change liberty 
 into a Bacchanalian; the other, into a prosti- 
 tute." This discourse was immediately printed 
 and circulated through all France.* 
 
 The Committee of Public iSafety, through 
 their organs, Robespierre and St. Just, uniform- 
 ly veiled their despotic advances under the cloak 
 of forwarding the Revolution, and represented 
 the opposite factions as both acting under the di- 
 rection and for the benefit of external force. 
 "Foreign powers," said the former, "have vom- 
 ited into France able villains, whom they retain 
 in their pay. They deliberate in our adjuinis- 
 trations, insinuate themselves into our sections 
 and our clubs, sit in the convention, and eternal- 
 ly dii'ect the counter Revolution by the same 
 means. They flutter round us, sui"prise our se- 
 crets, caress our passions, and seek to make us 
 converts to their opinions. By turns they drive 
 us to exaggeration or weakness, excite in Paris 
 the fanaticism of the new worship, and in La 
 Vendee resistance to the old : assassinate Marat 
 and Lepelletier, and mingle with the group who 
 would deify their remains ; at one time spread 
 plenty among the people, at another reduce them 
 to all the liorrors of famine ; circulate and vnth- 
 draw the metallic currency, and thus occasion 
 the extraordinaiy changes in the value of mon- 
 ey ; profit, in fine, by every accident, to turn it 
 against France and the Revolution." Such is 
 the invariable policy of revolutionary parties, 
 to impute to strangers the natural eflect of their 
 own passions and vices. This speech was fol- 
 lowed by a decree, sending Biron, Custine's son, 
 Dietrich, mayor of Strasbourg, and all the friends 
 of Dumourier, Custine, and Houcliard, to the 
 Revolutionary Tribunal, from whence they were 
 soon after conducted to the scafTold.t 
 
 "Citizens," said St. Ju.st, a few days after, 
 "you wish a Republic : if you are not "prepared 
 at the same time to wish for Avhat constitutes it, 
 you will be buried imder its ruins. Now what 
 constitutes a Republic is the destruction of eve- 
 lything which opposes it. You are culpable to- 
 wards the Republic if you have pity on the cap- 
 tives; you are culpable if you do not support 
 virtue ; you are culpable if you do not support 
 terror. What do you propose, you who would 
 not strike terror into the wicked 1 What do you 
 propose, you who M^ould sever virtue from happi- 
 ness? You shall perish, you who only act the 
 patriot till bought by the .stranger, or placed in 
 office by the government; you "of the indulgent 
 faction, who would save the wicked; you of 
 the foreign faction, who would be severe onlv 
 
 * Mig^.,i!., 307. Th.,vi., 155, 156. t Th., vi., 120,121. 
 
 on the friends of freedom. Measures are already 
 taken ; you are surrounded. Thanks to the ge- 
 nius of France, Liberty has risen victorious 
 from one of the greatest dangers she ever en- 
 countered ; the terror she will strike into her en- 
 emies will forever purge the earth of the con- 
 spirators." The convention, awed by the ty- 
 rants, invested the committees with full power 
 to crush the conspiracies. They decreed that 
 Terror and Virtue should be the order of the 
 day.* 
 
 The Anarchists were the first to feel the ven- 
 geance of their former supporters. Proscription 
 They in vain endeavoured to rouse of th^Anar- 
 their ancient partisans in the com- chists. 
 mune to support their cause ; teiTor had frozen 
 every heart. Their leaders made the utmost ef- 
 forts to rouse the people to insun^ection ; and in- 
 nmnerable placards, ascribing the whole public 
 evils, and in particular, the famine which pre- 
 vailed, to the convention, appeared in the mar- 
 kets, and in all the populous quarters of Paris. 
 They even went so far as to propose that the 
 whole convention .should be dissolved, a new 
 one assembled, a dictator named, and an execu- 
 tive government organized. But all the efforts 
 of Hebert, with his infamous journal — Momoro, 
 with the resolutions of the section Marat, which 
 he had roused to espouse their cause — and Vin- 
 cent, with his phrensied followers, could not pro- 
 duce a popular movement. The municipality 
 held back ; the Jacobins were ruled by the Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety and Robespieri'e. Driven 
 from the club of the Jacobins, where the decem- 
 virs predominated, they sought refuge in that of 
 the Cordeliers, but all to no purpose. Thej^ were 
 arrested by their former agent, Henriot, at the head 
 of the anned force which they had so often wield- 
 ed against the government, and sent before the 
 Revolutionary' Tribunal, to stand trial for a con- 
 spiracy to put a tyrant at the head of affairs. 
 Hebert, Gobet, Ronsin, Chaumette, Clootz, Mo- 
 moro, and Vincent, were all condemned. They 
 evinced the native baseness of their dispositions 
 by their cowardice in their last moments. The 
 apo.state Bishop Gobet almost sunk under his 
 terrors ; the infamous liebert wept from weak- 
 ness. The numerous captives in the prisons of 
 Paris could hardly believe their eyes Their dis- 
 when they beheld the tyrants who had graceful 
 sent so many to execution, and who death. 
 were preparing a new ma.ssacre in the prisons, 
 consigned, in their turn, to the scaffold. The 
 populace, with their usual inconstancy, mani- 
 fested joy at their punishment, and, in particu- 
 lar, loaded with maledictions the very Hebert 
 for v.-hose deliverance from the an-estof the con- 
 vention they had so recently before put all Paris 
 in in.surrection.t 
 
 Such was the public avidity to see the execu- 
 tion of these leaders, late so popular, that consid- 
 erable sums were realized by the sale of seats on 
 the fatal chariots, to witness their agonies, and 
 on the tables and benches arranged around the 
 scafixjld. Hebert made no attempt to conceal his 
 terrors : he .'^unk down at eveiy step ; and the 
 vile populace, so recently his worshippers, fol- 
 lowed the car, mimicking the cry of the persons 
 who hawked his journal about the streets. " Fa- 
 ther Duchesne is in a devil of a rage."i§ 
 
 * Mi<r.,ii., 309. Lac, ii., 145. 
 
 t Lac, li., 144. Th.,vi.. 162, 168,179,182. Mig.,ii., 310. 
 
 t Th., vj., 182. 
 
 i) " II est b 1 en colere Ic P6re Duchesne." In re- 
 counting such scenes, the spirit is lost if the verj- words are 
 not useJ. 
 
230 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. X. 
 
 The victory of the decemvirs was complete. 
 They followed up the blow by disbanding the 
 Revolutionaiy force stationed at Paris, and di- 
 minishing the power of the committees of sec- 
 tions ; all steps, and not unimportant ones, to the 
 establishment of a regular government. The 
 municipality of Paris, subdued by terror, was 
 compelled to send a deputation to the assembly, 
 returning thanks tor the arrest and punishment 
 of its own members.* 
 
 Danton and his partisans had not long the 
 Rupture of satisfaction of exulting over the de- 
 Danton and struction of the Anarchists. Robes- 
 Robespierre. pierre and he had a meeting in the 
 house of the former, but it led to no accommo- 
 dation ; Danton complained violently of the con- 
 duct of his former friend; Robespierre main- 
 tained a haughty reserve. " I know," said Dan- 
 ton, " all the hatred v/hich the committee bear 
 me, but I do not fear it." " You are wrong," 
 .said Robespierre ; "they have no bad intentions 
 against you ; but it is well to be explicit." " To 
 be explicit," rejoined Danton, " good faith is ne- 
 cessary. Without doubt it is necessary to coerce 
 the Royalists ; but we should not confound the 
 innocent with the guilty." " And who has told 
 you," said Robespierre, " that one innocent per- 
 son has perished 1" Danton, upon this, turning 
 to the friend who accoinpanied him, said, with a 
 bitter smile, "What say you — not one innocent 
 has perished!" They parted mutually exasper- 
 ated ; all intercourse between them immediately 
 ceased.t 
 
 The friends of Danton now conjured him to 
 take steps to ensure his own safety ; 
 
 IS aires . ^^^ ^^ resource remained to ward off 
 the threatened blow. The club of the Cordeliers 
 indeed was devoted to him, and the convention 
 in secret leaned to his side ; but these bodies had 
 no real power; the armed force was entirely in 
 the hands of the committee. Having failed in 
 rousing public opinion by means of the journals 
 of his party and the exertions of his friends in 
 the convention, what other expedients remained 1 
 "I would rather," said he, "be guillotined than 
 become guillotiner; my life is not worth the 
 trouble of preserving; I am wear}- of existence. 
 Set off into exile ! do you suppose that one car- 
 ries their country with the sole of their shoe 1" 
 On the day before his arrest, he received notice 
 that his imprisonment was under the considera- 
 tion of the committee, and he was again pressed 
 to fly ; but, after a moment's deliberation, he 
 only answered, " They dare not." In the night 
 his house was surrounded, and he was arrested, 
 along with Camille Desmoulins, Lacroix, He- 
 rault de Sechelles, and Westermann. On enter- 
 ing the prison, he cordially welcomed the captives 
 who flocked to behold him. " Gentlemen," said 
 he, " I hoped to have been the means of deliver- 
 ing you all from this place ; but here I am among 
 you, and God only knows where this will end." 
 He was immediately allerward shut up in a 
 solitary cell, the same which Hebert had recentlv 
 before occupied. On entering it, he exclaimed, 
 "At last I perceive that in revolutions the supreme 
 power finally rests with the most abandoned. ":§ 
 
 During the short period that elapsed before his 
 execution, his mind, in a distracted state, revert- 
 
 * Miff., ii., 310. Lac, ii., 144. 
 
 + Mig., ii., 308. Th., vi., 189. 
 
 t Rioutff, 67. Mig^., ii., 310, 311. Th., vi., 190. 
 
 ^ " Enfin je vois que dans les revolutions I'autorite toujours 
 reste aux plus scelcratK." — RiouFFE, p. 67. A memorable 
 sentiment cominer from such '• — 
 
 ed to the innocence of his earlier years. " He 
 spoke incessantly," says his fellow-captive, Ri- 
 ouffe, " of trees, flowers, and the country." Then 
 giving way to unavailing regret, he exclaimed, 
 " It was just a year ago that I was the means 
 of instituting the Revolutionary Tribunal: may 
 God and man forgive me for what I did;* but it 
 was not that it might become the scourge of 
 humanity." 
 
 His arrest produced a violent agitation in 
 Paris ; the convention on the follow- Violent agi- 
 ing morning was shaken by a gen- tatioamthe 
 eral inquietude, which broke out in assembly, 
 half- suppressed murmurs. "Citizens!" said 
 Legendi'e, " four of the national representa- 
 tives have been arrested during the night : 
 Danton is one, I am ignorant of the others. Dan- 
 ton is as innocent as myself, and yet he is in 
 irons. His accusers, without doubt, are afraid 
 that his answers would destroy the charges 
 brought against him ; but you are bound to do 
 justice ; and I demand that, before the report of 
 the committee is received, he be examined in 
 your presence." The proposition was favour- 
 ably received, and for a moment the assembly 
 seemed disposed to shake off its fetters, till Ro- 
 bespierre mounted the tribune. " From the 
 trouble for long unknown which reigns in the 
 assembly; from the agitation produced by the 
 words you have just heard, it is evident that a 
 great interest is at stake, and that the point now 
 to be determined is, whether the safety of a few 
 individuals is to prevail over that of the country. 
 We shall see this day whether the convention 
 has courage to break a pretended idol, or to suf- 
 fer it, in its fall, to overwhelm the assembly and 
 the people of France. Danton, you shall answer 
 to inflexible justice : let us examine your con- 
 duct. Accomplice in ever}' criminal enterprise, 
 you ever espoused the cause which was adverse 
 to freedom : you intrigued with Mirabeau and 
 Dumourier : with Hebert and Herault de Se- 
 chelles you have made yourself the slave of 
 tyranny. Mirabeau, who contemplated a change 
 of dynasty, felt the value of your audacity, and 
 secured it : you have abandoned all your former 
 principles, and nothing more was heard of you 
 till the massacre in the Champs de Mars. At 
 every crisis you have deserted the public inter- 
 est: you have ever attached yourself to the irai- 
 tor party." The terror inspired by these a\ jrds 
 restored silence to the convention; and at the 
 same time, St. Just, followed by the other mem- 
 bers of the Committee of Public Safety, entered 
 the hall. With slow steps, a sombre and deci- 
 ded air, they approached the tribune, when Ro- 
 bespierre again addressed Legendre. " Go on ; 
 it is well that all the associates of the conspirators 
 we have arrested should at once make themselves 
 known. You have heard of the despotism of the 
 committees, as if the confidence which the peo- 
 ple have reposed in you, and which you have 
 transferred to the committees, was not the surest 
 guaranty of their patriotism. You affect to be 
 afraid ; but I say whoever trembles at this mo- 
 ment is guilty, for never did innocence fear the 
 vigilance of the public authorities." Unani- 
 mous applause, from hands shaking with fright, 
 followed these words. None ventured to incur 
 the terrible imputation : terror froze every heart ; 
 and St. Just, without opposition, ascended the tri- 
 bune, t 
 
 * Mig., li., 312. Th., vi., 192. Riouffe, 67. 
 t Mig., II., 312, 313. Lac, ii., 145. Th., vi., 194, 195i 
 Hist, de la Conv., iii., 338. 
 
1793] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 231 
 
 He there made a detailed exposition of the 
 grounds of accusation against the moderate par- 
 ty, recounted their private iregularities, their un- 
 pardonable clemency ; charged them with being 
 accomplices in every conspiracy, from that of 
 the Royalists, whom they overthrew on the 10th 
 of August, to that of the Anarchists, whose trea- 
 son had so recently been punished. The utter 
 absurdity of imputing to them such contradicto- 
 ry crimes, and supposing them in league with 
 tlieir bitterest enemies, was too glaring to escape 
 observation ; but the assembly, mastered by fear, 
 crouched beneath their tyrants, and unanimously 
 sent the accused to the Revolutionary Tribunal. 
 The galleries imitated their example. From 
 ihose benches whence had issued so often bursts 
 of applause at his speeches, were now heard only 
 fierce demands for his head. When removed to 
 the Conciergerie, preparatory to their trial, the 
 astonishment of the captives was as gi-eat as 
 when they entered the Luxembourg. " My late 
 brethren," said Danton, " understand nothing of 
 government; I leave eveiy thing in the most de- 
 plorable confusion : 'twere better to be a poor 
 fisherman than the ruler of men. My only com- 
 fort is, that my name is attached to some decrees 
 which will show that I was not involved in all 
 their fury."* 
 
 On their trial they evinced their wonted firm- 
 Their trial ness, and addressed the judges in unu- 
 and execu- sual tenns of indignation. Danton, be- 
 tion. lug interrogated by the president con- 
 
 cerning his age and profession, replied, " My 
 name is Danton, sufficiently known in the his- 
 tory of the Revolution ; I am thirty-five ; my 
 abode will soon be in nonentity ; and my name 
 will live in the pantheon of histor}'." Camille 
 Desmoulins answered that he was the same age as 
 the " Sans Culotte, Jesus Christ, when he died." 
 Danton spoke with energj' and resolution in his 
 own defence. " My voice," said he, with that 
 powerful organ which had been so often raised 
 in the cause of the people, " will have no diffi- 
 culty in refuting the calumnies contained in the 
 act of accusation. Let the cowards who accuse 
 me be brought forward; I will speedily cover 
 them with confusion. Let the committees ap- 
 pear; I require them both as accusers and j udges. 
 Let them appear: they will not. It matters lit- 
 tle what judgment you pronoimce ; I have al- 
 ready told you my abode will soon be in nonen- 
 tity; my life is a burden, I am weary of it, and 
 will rejoice in the stroke that sends me to the 
 grave." The president rung his bell, but Dan- 
 ton's voice of thunder dro%vTied the noise. '• Do 
 you not hear me 1" said the president. " The 
 voice of a man," replied Danton, " who defends 
 his honour and his life, may well overcome your 
 clamours." His speech was at length choked 
 with rage, and he sat down despairing of his 
 cause. Nevertheless, the austere indignation of 
 Ills manner, the nerve of Desmoulins, the meas- 
 ured ability of Lacroix, rendered the judges ap- 
 prehensive of a movement in the populace; to 
 prevent which, the convention declared the ac- 
 cused hors des debats, on pretext of their want of 
 respect to the court. No sooner was this decree 
 passed, than Amar hastened with it to the tribu- 
 nal, where Danton and his friends were prolong- 
 ing their indignant defence. " Here are the 
 means," said Amar, ''■ for stifling these wretches." 
 Fouquier Tinville, the public accuser, seized it 
 
 * Hist, de laConv.,iii., 338. RioufFe, 67. Lac, ii., 145. 
 Thiers, vi., 198, 201. Mig., ii., 313. 
 
 with avidity, and read it to the court. Danton 
 rose and called the audience to witness that they 
 had not been wanting in respect to the judges. 
 " The time will come," said he, " when the truth 
 will be known : I foresee the greatest calamities 
 to France : here is the dictator unveiled." On 
 the day following, the debates were closed before 
 they had begun their defence, notwithstanding 
 the most energetic remonstrance from Camille 
 Desmoulins, who called the audience to witness 
 that they were murdered. The jury enclosed, 
 and soon after the president returned, and, with 
 a savage joy, declared the verdict was guilty. 
 The court instantly pronounced sentence after 
 they were removed, which was read to them in 
 their cells in the evening. " We are sacrificed," 
 said Danton, "to the ambition of a few dastardly 
 brigands; but they will not long enjoy their tri- 
 umph : I drag Robespierre after me in my fall."* 
 They went to the scaffold with the stoicism so 
 usual at that period. A numerous escort attend- 
 ed them, and an immense crowd was assembled, 
 which beheld in silence their former leaders led 
 out for execution. Camille Desmoulins exclaim- 
 ed, when seated on the fatal chariot, •' This, then, 
 is the recompense destined to the first apostle of 
 Liberty." The base crowd who followed the 
 cars loaded them with imprecations; the indig- 
 nation of Camille Desmoulins was so excessive, 
 that he tore his shirt in venting it on the people. 
 Danton held his head erect, and cast a calm and 
 intrepid look around him. " Do not disqttiet 
 yourself," said he, " with that vile mob." At the 
 foot of the scaflbld he advanced to embrace He- 
 rault Sechelles, who held out his arms to receive 
 him. The executioner interposed. " What," 
 said he, with a bitter smile, " are you more cruel 
 than death itself? Begone! you at least caimot 
 prevent our lips from soon meeting in that bloody 
 basket." For a moment after he was softened, 
 and said, " Oh! my beloved! oh, my wife! shall 
 I never see you more!" but, immediately check- 
 ing himself, exclaimed, " Danton, recollect your- 
 self; no weakness." He ascended with a firm 
 step, and died with unshaken constancy.t 
 
 The wife of Camille Desmoulins wandered in- 
 cessantly round his prison during the short in- 
 teiTal between his arrest and execution ; her de- 
 spair was made the pretence for declaring a new 
 plot, under the name of the " Conspiracy of the 
 Prisons." She was arrested after his death, and 
 sent to the scafibld with Chaumette, Gobet, and 
 the wife of Hebert, the infamous remnant of the 
 Anarchist faction. She died with the serenity 
 of Charlotte Corday and Madame Roland; while 
 her unworthy associates disgraced their sex by 
 more than feminine weakness.): 
 
 Thus perished the tardy but last defenders of 
 humanity and moderation — the last who sought 
 for peace, and advocated clemency to those who 
 had been vanquished in the Revolution. For 
 long after their fall no voice was heard against 
 the Reign of Terror; silent and unopposed, the 
 tyrants struck redoubled blows from one end of 
 France to the other. The Girondists had sought 
 to prevent that fatal rule, the Dantonists to ar- 
 rest it : both perished in the attempt. They per- 
 ished because they were inferior in wickedness 
 to their opponents ; they fell the victims of the 
 humanity which lingered in their bosoms.§ 
 The combination of wicked men who there- 
 
 * Mig.,ii.,313. Lac., ii., 146. Pr.Hist. Th.,vi., 203-212. 
 t Mig., ii., 314. Lac., ii., 146. Th., vi., 216. Hist, de 
 la Conv., lii.. 347. t Lac, ii., 146. Th., vi., 220, 221. 
 
 I) Mig., li., 314. 
 
232 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XI. 
 
 after governed France is without parallel in the 
 history of the world. Their power, based on the 
 organized weight of the inuUitude and the ar- 
 dent co-operation of the municipalities, every- 
 where installed by thein in the possession of 
 power, was irresistible. By them opulent cities 
 were overtiu'ned, hundreds of thousands of delu- 
 ded artisans reduced to beggarj', agriculture, 
 commerce, the arts destroyed, the foundations of 
 every species of property shaken, and all the 
 youth of the kingdom driven to the frontier, less 
 "to uphold the integrity of France than to protect 
 themselves from the just vengeance which await- 
 ed them from within and without. All bowed 
 the neck before this gigantic assemblage of 
 wickedness. The Revolutionary excesses daily 
 increased, in conseqiience of the union which 
 the constant dread of retribution produced among 
 their perpetrators. There was no medium be- 
 tween taking a part in these atrocities, and fall- 
 ing a victim totliem. Virtue seemed powerless ; 
 energ}' appeared only in the extremity of resig- 
 nation ; religion in the heroism ■nith which death 
 was endured. There was not a hope left for 
 France, had it not been for the dissensions which, 
 as the natural result of their wickedness, sprung 
 up among the authors of the public calamities.* 
 It is impossible not to be struck, in looking 
 g ^ _ back on the fate of these different par- 
 flections. ^' l-iss, with the singulai' and providential 
 Resistless manner in which their crimes brought 
 jiower of about their own punishment. No Ibr- 
 
 Bobespieire. 
 
 eign mterposition was necessaiy, no 
 
 avenging angel was required to vidicate the jus- 
 
 tice of Divine administration. They fell the vic- 
 tim of their own atrocity, of the passions which 
 they them.selves had let loose, of the injustice of 
 which they had given the lirsi example to others. 
 The Constitutionalists overthrew the ancient 
 monarchy, and formed a limited government; but 
 their imprudence in rousing popular ambition 
 paved the way lor the 10th of August, and speed- 
 ily brought themselves to the scaffold: the Gi- 
 rondists established their favourite dream of a 
 Republic, and were the first victims of the fury 
 which it excited : the Dantonists roused the pop- 
 ulace against the Gironde, and soon fell under 
 the axe which they had prepared for their rivals : 
 the Anarchists defied the powers of Heaven it- 
 self; but scarcely were their blasphemies utter- 
 ed, when they were swept off by the partners of 
 their bloody triumphs. 
 
 One only power remained, alone terrible, ir- 
 resistible. This was the power of Death, wield- 
 ed by a faction steeled against every feeling of 
 humanity, dead to ever\' principle of justice. In 
 their iron hands, order resumed its sway from 
 the influence of terror; obedience became uni- 
 versal from the extinction of hope. Silent and 
 unresisted they led their victims to the scaffold, 
 dreaded alike by the soldiers who crouched, the 
 people who trembled, and the victims who suf- 
 fered. The histor}' of the world has no parallel 
 to the horrors of that long night of suffering, be- 
 cause it has none to the guilt which preceded it: 
 tyranny never assumed so hideous a form, be- 
 cause licentiousness never required so severe a 
 punishment. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CAJIPAIGN OF 1793. PART I. 
 
 FRO.M THE OPEXIiNG OF THE CAMPAIG-V TO THE FORGING OF THE CAMP OF CJESAR. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Great Division of Opinion on the French Revolution in 
 Great Britain. — Arguments against and for the War in 
 the Country. — Arguments in I^arliament on the same Sub- 
 ject. — Real Motives which led to its lieing undertaken. — 
 Parliamentary Reform. — Arguments by which the Motion 
 for It was supported, and the Arguments against it. — It is 
 rejected by tlie House of Commons. — Traitorous Corre- i 
 spondence Act passed, and Prosecutions for Sedition and 
 Treason. — Preparations for War by Great Britain and the 
 Allies. — Effect of the Death of Louis at St. Petersburg. 
 — Treaty between England and Russia, and with Sardin- 
 ia, Prussia, the Emperor, Naples, and Spain. — Secret 
 Views of Russia. — Divisions between the Prussians and 
 Austriaus. — Forces on both Sides. — Wretched State of 
 the French Armies. — Prince Cobourg Generalissimo. — 
 Vast Efforts of France. — Designs of Dumourier, and of 
 the allied Generals. — Archduke Charles joins the Army. 
 — Repeated Disasters of the Republicans. — Great Sensa- 
 tion produced by them in Flanders. — Efforts of Dumuu- 
 rier. — Battle of Nerwinde. — Defeat of the French. — Dis- 
 organization of their Army. — Retreat of Dumourier. — 
 Conferences with Prince Cobourg. — His Failure and 
 Flight.— Conquest of Austrian Flanders by the AUies. — 
 Defeat of Austrian Projects on the Rhine. — Siege of May- 
 ence. — Defeat of the Attack on the covering Army. — Its 
 Fall. — Congress at Antwerp to form a Plan for the Cam- 
 paign. — Republicans forced back to Fainars. — Storming 
 of the Camp there. — Valenciennes and Conde invested. — 
 Siege of the former, and Blockade of the latter. — They 
 both Fall. — Custine, with the Army of Flanders, takes 
 Refuge in intrenched Camps. — Rout m the Camp of C^- 
 sar. — Desperate Condition of the French. — General Re- 
 flections on the Events, and the Ease with which France 
 might then have been conquered if the Allies had held 
 together. — Ruinous Effect of the English Reduction of 
 Force. 
 
 "War to the palace and peace to the cottage'" 
 
 ~ * Hist, de la Conv., iii., 230. 
 
 was tlie principle of the French Revolution. Its 
 proclamation necessarily set the two classes of 
 society throughout Europe at variance with each 
 other, and, instead of the ancient rivalry of 
 kings, introduced the fiercer strife of the people. 
 Like the Peloponnesian war, the contest thence- 
 forth raged not only betAveen nation and nation, 
 but between interest and interest; a strife of 
 opinion superseded that of glory ; and in every 
 province and eveiy city numbers were to be 
 found who watched the contending parties with 
 opposite feelings, and sought in the victory of 
 foreign enemies the downfall of domestic foes. 
 
 A contest between France and England has in 
 ever}' age been the greatest source of excitement 
 to the people in both countries, but at no former 
 period were these passions so strongly roused as 
 at the commencement of the Revolutionary war. 
 Not only was national rivalry, the growth of 
 centuries, revived, but new and fiercer passions 
 arose from the civil interests which were brought 
 into collision. The dominant party in England 
 regarded the war with France not merely as a 
 contest with a rival power, in which glory or 
 conquest was to be won, but as a struggle for 
 existence, in which their lives, their ibrtunes, 
 and their country were at stake. The French 
 Republicans looked upon the accession of Eng- 
 land to the league of their enemies as the signal 
 of deadly combat with the principles of freedom, 
 and anticipated from defeat not only national hu- 
 miliation, but individual ruin. The English 
 
iT93.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 233 
 
 nobility beheld in the conquests of the Republi- 
 cans tlie dissemination ot the principles of rev- 
 olution and anarchy, the spread of intidelity, the 
 reign of the guillotine ; the French Jacobins 
 saw in the victories of the allies the near ap- 
 proach of moral retribution, the revenge of in- 
 jury, the empire of the sword. 
 
 rfo words can convey an adequate idea of tlie 
 .... bitterness of party feeling which di- 
 o^f ^platT vided this country upon the break- 
 the French ing out o± the war in 1793. Eng- 
 Revolunon in land, as well as France, had talent 
 Great Bntuin. impatient of obscurity ; ■ ardour, 
 which demanded employment ; ambition, which 
 -nought distinction ; passion, which requirea ex- 
 citation. To such men, the whole body of the 
 aristocracy became an object of uncontrollable 
 jealousy; and nothing short of the equality pro- 
 claimed by the French rulers seemed the fit des- 
 tiny of society. Hence the division of the coun- 
 try into Aristocrats and Democrats, the intro- 
 duction of political hatred into the bosom of 
 families, and the dissolution of many friendships 
 which all the misfortunes of life could never 
 have severed.* Time heals almost all other 
 sorrows, absence softens the worst causes of ir- 
 ritation, but experience has proved that the po- 
 litical divisions of 1793 never were forgotten by 
 those who were of an age to feel their influence. 
 
 The breaking out of the wai' furnished a new 
 Aro-uments subject of discord between the con- 
 ag-tmstand tending parties. On the part of the 
 fur the war. opposition it was argued, that to 
 plunge into a desperate war for so inconsider- 
 able an object as the opening of the Scheldt, was 
 to incur a certain and heavy loss on account of 
 a most trifling cause of complaint : that the whole 
 trade with the United Provinces was not worth 
 one year's expense of the contest ; and that, while 
 it was easy to .see what England had to lose, it 
 was diflicult to conceive what she could possibly 
 gain from the conflict she had so imnecessarily 
 provoked : that if the spread of Revolutionary 
 opinions were the evils which, in reality, were 
 dreaded, nothing could be imagined so likely to 
 increase the danger as engaging in a war, be- 
 cause it is during its perils that the interchange 
 of opinions is mo.st rapid, and prejudice most 
 certainly yields to the force of necessity: that 
 thoughts are not to be confined by walls, nor 
 freedom fenced in by bayonets: that the moral 
 agents requisite for carrying the designs of tyr- 
 aimy into execution, become the instalments for 
 its own destruction; and that the despots who 
 now sought to extinguish freedom in France, 
 would find, like the Eastern sultan, tliat the 
 lorces he had brought up to avert the plague 
 were the means of spreading its contagion through 
 all the provinces ot his empire. 
 
 On the other hand, the Tories maintained that 
 the war was both just and expedient; just, be- 
 cause the ancient allies of Britain were threat- 
 ened with invasion, and the destruction of rights 
 on which the existence of the Republic depended ; 
 expedient, because experience had proved that 
 such an aggression could not be permitted with- 
 i>ut ruin to the vital interests of Britain : that 
 such a violation of neutral rights came with a 
 peculiar bad gi-ace from France, that power hav- 
 ing, only ten years before, successfully interfered, 
 on the footing of ancient treaties, to jirevent that 
 veiy act in regard to the Scheldt navigation, on 
 the part of Austria, which was now attempted by 
 
 Vol. I.— G 
 
 Scott's Napoleon., i., 280. 
 
 her own forces : that if Great Britain was to sit 
 by, and tamely behold the rights of her allies, and 
 of all neutral powers, sacrificed by her ancient 
 rival, there would soon be an end, not only to 
 her foreign influence, but to her internal security : 
 that it was evident that the Republicans, who had 
 now acquired the government of France, were 
 actuated by the spirit of universal dominion, and 
 would never rest till, by the aid of revolution in 
 the adjoining states, they had incorporated them 
 all with the ruling Republic : that the I'ecent an- 
 nexation of Savoy, Nice, and Flanders with the 
 French territory gave sutficient proof of this 
 grasping disposition, and afforded due warning 
 to the neighbouring powers to place no reliance 
 on the protessions of a state in which no principle 
 was fixed but that of Republican ambition : that 
 treaties were in vain with a government subject 
 to such sudden changes as the French Republic, 
 and in which eacli successive party which rose 
 to the head of affairs, disregarding the faith of 
 ancient engagements, sought only to gain a short- 
 lived popularity by new and dazzling schemes ol 
 foreign aggression : that the convention had al- 
 ready given the clearest indication of their reso- 
 lution to shake themselves loose of all foraier 
 obligations, by their remarkable declaration, that 
 " treaties made by despots could never bind the 
 free and enlightened inhabitants of Belgium :" 
 that in all ages republics had been the most am- 
 bitious and the mo.st warklike of states, in con- 
 sequence of the re-stless and insatiable spirit 
 which their institutions tended to nourish among 
 the mass of the citizens, and the necessity which 
 their rulers felt themselves under of signalizing 
 their shortlived power by some acts calculated 
 to dazzle the multitude : that the French Repub- 
 lic had already given ample proof that they were 
 not destined to forai any exception to the general 
 rule; andif their leaders were so inclined, the suf- 
 fering and ambition of the people would soon 
 drive them into action : that history proved both 
 that France was too powerful for Europe when 
 her territory was advanced to the Rhine, and 
 that, the moment her influence became predomi- 
 nant, it would all be directed with inveterate 
 hostility against this country: that in this way 
 the contest would sooner or later approach our 
 own shores, and if so, how much better to antici- 
 pate the evil, when it might be done with com- 
 parative ease, and crush the growing Republic 
 before it wielded the forces of Europe at its will.* 
 
 Such were the arguments urged in the countrj' 
 generally on the policy of this great undertaking: 
 those advanced in Parliament related, as is usual 
 with debates in that as.sembly, less to the general 
 policy of the measure than the immediate causes 
 which had led to a rupture. 
 
 On the part of the opposition, it was contended 
 by Mr. Fox and Mr. C^rey, " that the Arfruments in 
 causes of war with France were in Parliament on 
 no respect different now from what the same sub- 
 they were under the government of ^^^^' 
 Louis XIV. or Louis XVI. What, then, were 
 those causes'? Not an in.sult or aggression, but 
 a refusal of satisfaction, when specifically de- 
 manded. What instance had ministers produced 
 of such demand and of such refusal 1 It may be 
 admitted that the decree of November 19th en- 
 titled this countrv to require an explanation; but 
 even of this they could not show that any clear 
 and specific explanation had been demanded. 
 Security that the French would not act upon that 
 
 Pari. Hist., ixi., p. 79-128. Ann. Reg., 1793, p. 15. 
 
234 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XI. 
 
 decree was indeed mentioned in one of Lord 
 Grenville's letters, but what kind of secai'ity was 
 neither specified nor even named. The same 
 might be said with respect to the opening of the 
 Sclieldt and their conquest of Brabant. We 
 complained of an attack on the rights of our 
 ally ; we remonstrated against an accession of 
 territory alarming to Europe, but we proposed 
 nothing that would be admitted as satisfaction 
 for the injury ; we pointed out nothing that would 
 remove our alarm, 'f lie same argument applied 
 to their conquest of Savoy from the King of Sar- 
 dina, with whom, in his opinion, they were at 
 war as much as with the emperor. Would it 
 be said that it was our business only to com- 
 plain, and theirs to propose satisfaction 1 Com- 
 mon sense would see that this was too much for 
 one independent power to expect of another. By 
 what clew could they discover that which would 
 satisfy those who did not choose to tell with what 
 they would be satisfied 1 How could they judge 
 of the too little or the too muchl And was it 
 not natural lor them to suppose that complaints, 
 for which nothing was stated as adequate satis- 
 faction, there was no disposition to withdraw 1 
 Yet on this the whole question of aggression 
 hinged; for that the refusal of satisfaction, and 
 not the insult, was the justifiable cause of war, 
 was not merely his opinion, but the opinion of 
 all the writers on the law of nations, and how 
 could that be said to have been refused which 
 was never asked 1 Of the death of the king, none 
 could ever speak but with grief and detestation. 
 But was the expression of our sorrow all ] Was 
 not the atrocious event made the subject of a 
 message from his majesty to both houses of Par- 
 liament 1 And now they would ask the few more 
 candid men, who owned that they thought this 
 event alone a sulficient cause of war, what end 
 could be gained by farther negotiation with 
 Chauvelin, with Marat, or Dumourierl Did 
 ministers mean to barter the blood of this ill- 
 fated monarch for any of the points in dispute ; 
 to say that the evacuation of Brabant shall atone 
 for so much, the evacuation of Savoy for so much 
 more ? Of this they would accuse no man ; but 
 on their principle, when the crime was com- 
 mitted, negotiation must cease. It might be ad- 
 mitted, however, with the right honourable gen- 
 tlemen, that this crime was no cause of war ; 
 but if it were admitted to be so, it was surely not 
 decent that the subject of war should never be 
 even mentioned without reverting to the death 
 of the king. When the attack on France was 
 called the cause of kings, it was not only a very 
 witty, but a suflicient reply, that opposing it 
 might be called the cause ol subjects. It is fortu- 
 nate that the public abhorrence of a war on such 
 a motive was so great that the right honourable 
 gentleman felt himself called upon to disclaim 
 it at great length. But how had ministers acted 1 
 They had taken advantage of the folly of the 
 French ; they had negotiated without proposing 
 specific terms, and then broken olf the negotia- 
 tion. At home they had alarmed the people that 
 their own constitution was in danger, and they 
 had made use of a melancholy event, which, 
 however it might affect us as men, did not con- 
 cern us as a nation, to inflame our passions and 
 impel us to war; and now that we were at war, 
 they durst not avow the causes of it, nor tell us 
 on what terms peace might have been preserved." 
 On the other hand, it was contended by Mr. 
 Pitt and Mr. Burke, that, " whatever temptations 
 might have existed to this country from ancient 
 
 enmity and rivalship — paltry motives indeed ! — or 
 whatever opportunity might have been afforded 
 by the tumultuous and distracted state of France, 
 or wiiatever sentiments might be excited by the 
 transactions which had taken place in that na- 
 tion, his majesty had uniformly abstained from 
 all interference in its internal government, and 
 had maintained, with respect to it, on every oc- 
 casion, the strictest and most inviolable neutral- 
 ity. Such being his conduct towards France, he 
 had a right to expect on their part a suitable re- 
 turn ; more especially as this return had been ex- 
 pressly conditioned lor by a compact, into which 
 they entered, and by which they engaged to re- 
 spect the rights of his majesty and his allies, not 
 to interlere in the government of any neutral 
 country, and not to pursue any system of ag- 
 grandizement, or make any additions to their do- 
 minions, but to confine themselves at the conclu- 
 sion of the war within their own territories. 
 These conditions they had all grossly violated, 
 and had adopted a system of ambitious and de- 
 structive policy, fatal to the peace and security 
 of every government, and which, in its conse- 
 quences, had shaken Europe itself to its founda- 
 tions. Their decree of the 19th of November, 
 which had been so much talked of, offering fra- 
 ternity and affiance to all people who wish to re- 
 cover their liberty, was a decree not levelled 
 agamst particular nations, but against every 
 country where there was any form of govern- 
 ment established: a decree not hostile to indi- 
 viduals, but to the human race, which was cal- 
 culated everywhere to sow the seeds of rebell- 
 ion and civil contention, and to spread war from 
 one end of Em'ope to the other, from one end of 
 the globe to the other. While they were bound 
 to tMs country by these engagements, they had 
 showed no intention to exempt it from the con- 
 sequences of this decree. Not only had they 
 showed no inclination to fulfil their engagements, 
 but they had even put it out of their own power, 
 by taking the first opportunity to make additions 
 to their territory, in contradiction to their own 
 express stipulations. By express resolutions for 
 the destruction of the existing government of all 
 invaded countries, by the means of Jacobin soci- 
 eties, by orders given to their generals, by the 
 whole system adopted in this respect by the Na- 
 tional Assembly, and by the actual connexion 
 of the whole country of Savoy, they had marked 
 their determination to add to the dominions of 
 France, and to provide means, through the me- 
 dium of every new conquest, to carry their prin- 
 ciples over Europe. Their conduct was such 
 as in every instance had militated against the 
 dearest and most valuable interests of this coun- 
 try. The catastrophe of the French monarch 
 they ought all to feel deeply; and, consistently 
 with that impression, be led more firmly to resist 
 those principles from which an event of so black 
 and atrocious a nature had proceeded ; principles 
 which, if not opposed, might be expected in their 
 progress to lead to the commission of similar 
 crimes; but, notwithstanding government had 
 been obliged to decline all comm.unication which 
 tended to acknowledge the authority of the con- 
 vention, still they had left open the means of ac- 
 commodation, nor could that line of conduct 
 which they had pursued be stated as affording 
 any groim'd of hostility." 
 
 The event has at length enabled the historian 
 to decide which of these views is most reasona- 
 ble ; for we know the evil we have incurred, and 
 we can figure the peril we have escaped, by en- 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 235 
 
 gaging in the contest. In truth, the arguments 
 urged by government were not the only motives 
 lor commencing the war; the danger they appre- 
 liendeil lay nearer home than the conquests of 
 the Republicans; it was not foreign subjugation 
 so much as domestic revolution which was dread- 
 ed, if a pacific intercourse were any longer main- 
 tained with France. 
 
 " Croyez moi," said the Empress Catharine to 
 Segur in 1789 ; " une guerre scale pent 
 Real motives piia^jrer la direction des esprits en 
 for the war. _, » , , • i ' , 
 
 France, les reunir, donner un but 
 
 plus utile aux passions et reveiller le \Tai ]iatri- 
 otisme."* In this observation is contained the 
 true secret, and the best vindication of the Revo- 
 lutionary war.* The passions were excited ; dem- 
 ocratic ambition was awakened; the desire of 
 power, under the name of reform, was rapidly 
 gaining ground among the middling ranks, and 
 the institutions of the country threatened with an 
 overthrow as violent as that which had recently 
 taken place in the French monarchy. In these 
 circumstances, the only mode of checking the 
 evil was by engaging in a foreign contest, by 
 drawing ofl' the ardent spirits into active service, 
 and, in lieu of the modern desire for innovation, 
 rousing the ancient gallantry of the British peo- 
 ple. + , 
 
 When passion, whether in the political body 
 or in the individual, is once roused, it is in vain, 
 during the paroxysm, to combat it with the weap- 
 ons of reason. A man in love is proverbially 
 inaccessible to argument, and a nation heated in 
 the pursuit of political power is as incapable of 
 listening to the deductions of the understanding. 
 The only way in such times of averting the evil, 
 is by presenting some new object of pursuit, 
 which is not only attractive to the thinking few, 
 but to the unthinking many; by counteracting 
 one passion by the growth of another, and sum- 
 moning to the support of truth not only the ar- 
 mour of reason, but the fire of imagination. 
 • Great as has been the burden, enomious the 
 waste, prodigal the expenditure of the war, the 
 evils thence arising are trifling in comparison of 
 what would have ensued had a revolution taken 
 place.' Such an event, its advocates themselves 
 confess, can only benefit future generations by 
 the destruction of the present ;t its horrors, in a 
 country such as England, where three fourths 
 of the whole population depend upon the wages 
 of labour, and would be directly deprived of bread 
 by the destruction of capital, would have exceed- 
 ed anything yet experienced in modern times. 
 
 Another question, which strongly agitated the 
 English ])eople at this juncture, was that of re- 
 form in Parliament. 
 
 In the House of Commons, it was argued by 
 Debate in Par- M""- ^^^ey and Mr. Erskine, "That 
 liament on the State of the national represent- 
 Parliamentary ation, especially in Scotland and 
 reform. Cornwall, was so unequal, that no 
 
 rational argument could be advanced in support 
 of it : that a majority of the House of Commons 
 was returned by less than fifteen thousand elec- 
 tors, which is not more than a tAvo hundredth part 
 of the male adults of the kingdom : that this fran- 
 chise, limited as it i.';, legally recurs only once in 
 seven years: that the total representation for 
 Scotland was only one greater than that for Corn- 
 wall alone : that twenty members were returned 
 by thirty-five places where the right of voting was 
 
 * Segur, iii., 242. 
 i Segur, iii., 251. 
 
 t Annual Register, 1793, p. 172. 
 
 vested in burgage or similar tenures, and the 
 
 elections were notoriously a matter of mere form: 
 that ninety more are chosen by tbrty-six places, 
 where the right of voting is confined to less than 
 fifty persons each ; thirty-seven by nineteen pla- 
 ces, in which the number of voters is under one 
 Imndred; fifty-two by twenty-six places, in none 
 of which the voters exceed "two hundred; thirty 
 in Scotland, by counties having less than two 
 hundred and fifty votes; and fifteen by Scotch 
 boroughs not containing one hundred and twen- 
 ty-five each. That in this way two hundred and 
 ninety-four members, a majority of the House 
 of Commons, are chosen by a nominal and ficti- 
 tious system, under which the people have hard- 
 ly any choice in their election. 
 
 " In addition to this, the elective franchise is 
 so various, complicated, and grotesque, that end- 
 less litigation and confusion arise from its prac- 
 tical operation. Religious opinions create an in- 
 capacity to vote in all papists, and in thirty bor- 
 oughs Protestant dissenters are, by the Test and 
 Corporation laws, excluded from the franchise ; 
 copyholders, how wealthy soever, are universal- 
 ly excluded; and from the recent returns, it ap- 
 pears that no less than 939,000 householders in 
 England alone had no voice in the representa- 
 tion. In Scotland matters are still worse, the 
 great mass of the people being altogether exclu- 
 ded from any voice in the legislature, and the 
 members chosen by twenty-five hundred persons, 
 great part of whom have only fictitious or parch- 
 ment votes. In fine, one hundred and fifty-four 
 poM'erful and wealthy individuals can determine 
 the returns in no less than three hundred and sev- 
 en seats, being a majority of the whole Commons 
 of England.* 
 
 " We are always told, when this question is 
 brought foi-ward, that the present juncture is 
 not the proper season for bringing forward the 
 measure. Nothing, however, can be more ob- 
 vious, than that this excuse is now totally un- 
 founded. The burst of loyalty on the breaking out 
 of the war, of which the government so loudly 
 boast, demonstrates the groundless nature of any- 
 such apprehension at this time. If ever there was 
 any danger to this country from the propagation 
 of French principles, that danger unquestiona- 
 bly is at an end ; for no set of men who have not 
 actually lost their senses, would ever propose 
 the French Revolution for a model of imita- 
 tion. No argument from the present situation 
 of France, therefore, can be drawn against the 
 adoption of a rational refonn in this countiy. 
 
 " The greatest statesmen whom this country 
 has ever produced have advocated the cause 
 which we now bring forward. It had been sup- 
 ported by Mr. Locke, Sir William Blackstone, 
 Sir George Saville, and the present chief baron 
 and chief justice. It had been supported by Mr. 
 Pitt himself; by the Duke of Richmond ; and by 
 an authority greater than either, that of the king 
 himself, in his speech, 24th of May, 1781, where- 
 in his majesty says ' that he should ever be 
 ready to concur in supporting, in their just bal- 
 ance, the rights and privileges of every branch 
 of the legislature.' 
 
 " The present state of the representation is so 
 monstrous, that it could not, on general princi- 
 ples, be supported by any rational man. Who 
 can defend a system which enables one English 
 county to send as many members as the whole 
 kingdom of Scotland 1 and allows representa- 
 
 « Pari. Hist., xii., 789, 796. 
 
236 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XL 
 
 lives to be sent from many places where hardly 
 a house now remains'? It' there was any one 
 principle more strongly inculcated tiian another 
 at the Revolution, it was, that the election of the 
 House of Commons should be free. One of the 
 grounds assigned at that period for the dethrone- 
 ment of James was, that lie had violated the free- 
 dom of election; another, that a man ought not 
 to be governed by laws, in the framing of which 
 he had not a voice, or to pay taxes to which he 
 had not consented in the same way. Is not the 
 present state of things a direct departure from 
 both these principles"? At the Revolution, too, 
 the necessity of short parliaments was assertefl ; 
 and is not tire theory and practice of the Consti- 
 tution now a direct infringement on these princi- 
 ples 1 Can there be a more complete mockery 
 than the system of representation in Scotland, 
 where a nobleman's steward goes down to a 
 borougli with ten or twelve pieces of parchment 
 in his" hand, and, having assembled round a ta- 
 ble ten or twelve of his master's dependants, se- 
 cures the return. Mr. Pitt had brought forward 
 a motion for an addition of one hundred to the 
 county members ; and in the commencement of 
 every session it is entered on the journals of the 
 house, ' that it is a high infringement of the liber- 
 ties and privileges of the Commons of England 
 for any lord of Parliament, or lord lieutenant, to 
 concern themselves in the election of members 
 for Parliament.' Better far at once to repeal 
 such resolutions, and openly proclaim our ser- 
 vility, than allow them to remain there, when 
 the practice was so totally at variance with 
 them."* 
 
 To this it was replied by Mr. Pitt, Mr. Burke, 
 and Mr. Jenkinson, " The liberty of a country 
 depends on its government, and very little expe- 
 rience must be sullicient to demonstrate that 
 different countries require dilTerent institutions. 
 The real test of their practical influence is to be 
 found in their effects. Judging by this standard, 
 what opinion must we form of the British Con- 
 stitution 1 Is not property secured '? Is not the 
 administration of justice pure'? Have we not 
 arrived at a pitch of prosperity under it, unpar- 
 alleled in any other age or coimtry ? And what 
 have been the fruits of the speculations of those 
 who, disregarding the lessons of experience, have 
 aimed at the establishment of institutions framed 
 with a view to theoretical perfection 1 The tur- 
 bulent faction and unsettled despotism of De- 
 mocracy. The spots of the sun do not diminish 
 his splendour. In considering the merits of the 
 Constitution, its working upon the whole is to 
 be considered : the question is not, whether cer- 
 tain parts of it, if they stood alone, are defensi- 
 ble, but whether the whole machine is not ad- 
 mirable : not whether defects exist, but whether 
 experience has not proved that these defects so 
 far counteract each other as to render it to the 
 last degree perilous to interfere with the venera- 
 ble fabric. 
 
 "1 myself," said Mr. Pitt, "once brought for- 
 ward a motion tor reibrm, and I am desirous of 
 stating the reasons which induce me now to op- 
 pose it. I did so during a period of prolbund 
 peace, when no speck appeared in the political 
 horizon, and when the opportunity appeared fa- 
 vourable for amending oiu" institutions, with a 
 view to their preservation. Now the case is to- 
 tally different. The French Revolution has en- 
 tirely changed, not only the expedience of such 
 
 * Pari. Hist., XX.X., 799, 807. 
 
 j a change, but the class of men by whom, and 
 the objects for which, it is supported. Since 
 that great convulsion arose, I have observed 
 arising in this country a small but not con- 
 temptible party, whose object is very different 
 from moderate reibrm: wtio aspire to nothing 
 less than to introduce the French principles witii 
 all their horrors. In such circumstances, all the 
 practical good to be expected from reform has 
 disappeared, and the dangers to be apprehended 
 from the adoption of any considerable change 
 have augmented tenfold. Upon this ground, 
 even had I rated as high as ever the advantages 
 of reform, I would rather have abandoned my 
 project than incurred such a danger. It is evi- 
 dent now, that the question is liot, whether a 
 moderate reform is to be conceded, but admis- 
 sion is to be afforded to the point of the wedge, 
 which, when driven home, will rend asunder and 
 dissolve the Empire. 
 
 " From whom do the petitions for refonn now 
 come "? Is it from the friends of the British Con- 
 stitution ; from those whose character and prin- 
 ciples warrant the belief that their object is ti> 
 renovate, not destroy our institutions 1 No ; 
 they all come from the societies affiliated in this 
 countr)-' for the purpose of spreading the Jacobin 
 principles ; from the avowed and ardent ad- 
 mirers of the French Republic ; from the cor- 
 respondents and imitators of the National As- 
 sembly ; from men in whom all the horrors 
 which they have engendered, and all the blood 
 they have caused to flow, cannot awaken any 
 distrust of their principles. We must be blind 
 indeed if we do not perceive what is the real ob- 
 ject of iimovation supported by such a party. 
 In France, at the same time, they invariabiv 
 mention Parliamentary reform as the medium 
 by which all their Revolutionary projects are to 
 be forwarded in this cotmtry; and a change in 
 our representation as but a step to the formation 
 of a British Convention, and the total destruc- 
 tion of all our civil and religious institutions. . 
 
 " Is it, then, to a party small in number, but 
 dangerous from character, that we are to con- 
 cede the first step on the ladder of innovation '? 
 Are we to disregard entirely the immense ma- 
 jority of loyal citizens, who are too sensible of 
 the ialessings they enjoy to risk them by such a 
 change "? What is the question really at issue 1 
 It is not whether the constituencies of Cornwall 
 and Scotland are really such as ideal perfection 
 would approve : it is the same which is now at 
 issue with the whole of Europe, who are contend- 
 ing for the cause of order, justice, humanity, and 
 religion, in opposition to anarchy, injustice, cru- 
 elty, and infidelity. Are we, at such a moment, 
 in order to please a lew individuals, to incur 
 perils such as these 1 This would, indeed, re- 
 semble the conduct of those who, at the moment 
 when the citadel was besieged, should proceed to 
 the discussion of points of difference, instead of 
 providing the means of defence. 
 
 " I see no probability at this time of a temper- 
 ate reform : I see no guarantee for it either in the 
 temper of the times, or the character, habits, or 
 views of those b)' whom it is supported. So far 
 from satisfying them, it would only produce a 
 craving for farther concessions: they desire not 
 the reform which they now advocate for itself 
 but as a stepping-stone to ulterior objects, which 
 they dare not avow till their power of carrying 
 them into effect is by this first acquisition se- 
 cured. Knowing what these ulterior objects are ; 
 seeing the unspeakable horrors which it has in- 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 237 
 
 troduced in that country, where they have been 
 carried into lull effect, "it is our duty to resist to 
 the uttermost the tirst steps in the progress. The 
 govemnieiit which acts otherwise ceases to be a 
 government ; it unlics the bands which knit to- 
 gether society; it tbrleits the reverence and obe- 
 dience of its subjects; it gives up those whom it 
 ought to protect to the daggers of the Marselloise 
 and the assassins of Paris. The government of 
 the multitude, to which reform is but a step, is 
 not the ruling of the lew by the many, but the 
 many by the few: with this difference, that the 
 lew at the head of affairs in such a state are the 
 most ambitious, reckless, and worthless of the 
 community."*! 
 
 * Pari. Hist, XXX., 808, 902. 
 
 t It is curious, on a subject of such vital importance to 
 Eiifrland as Parliamentary refonn, to contrast tliese argu- 
 ments with those urged fu'"and against the same measure in 
 the memorable discussions of 1^30 and 1831. A summary 
 <if these is here subjoined, taken from the masterly speeches 
 of Sir Robert Peel, Mr. Croker, Lord Lyndhurst, Mr. Stan- 
 ley, and Lord-advocate Jeffrey, as an instructive proof of the 
 progress of the human mind during the intervening period. 
 
 On the popular side, it was urged that the British Consti- 
 p .. lution had gradually dep.irted from the principles 
 
 ary rcfonii' *■"' vvhich It was originally established, and on 
 Arguments which alone stability could be expected for it in 
 by whicli it future : that by the decUne of the population in 
 "i"^1''>>?"' some boroughs, and the vast increase of inhabi- 
 tants in once rural districts, a large proportion of 
 the members of the House of Commons had come to be re- 
 turned by a few great families, while the great majority of 
 the people were totally unrepresented : that such a state of 
 things was an insupportable grievance to the bulk of the citi- 
 zens, and could not fail, while it continued, to nourish a per- 
 petual discord between the holders of political influence and 
 all the other classes of society: that an oligarchy, at all 
 times an invidious form of government, was peculiarly so at 
 the present time, when the public mind was inflamed by the 
 extension of the elective suffrage to the whole citizens in 
 France ; that by admitting a larger number into a share of 
 political rights, the foundations of government would be laid 
 on a broader basis, and a phalanx secured, who would at 
 all times resist the extension of their privileges to a lower 
 class, and be found the firmest supporters of social order : 
 that it was altogether cliinierical to suppose that there could 
 be the slightest danger in extending the elective suffrage to 
 a numerous body of voters, as the people were so habituated 
 to pohtical rights, and so enlightened by education, that they 
 were as capable of exercising such franchises as their supe- 
 riors : th.at unless political institutions were enlarged with 
 the increase of those who shared their protection, they would 
 be outgrown by the multitude, and burst from the expansive 
 force of intelligence and numbers: that the true and legiti- 
 mate influence of property could never be extinguished, and 
 would only receive a wider sphere for its exertions, by the 
 increase of the circle to which the franchise was extended : 
 that all revolutions had been occasioned by the obstinate ad- 
 herence to old institutions, at a time when the state of so- 
 ciety required their alteration : that timely concession was 
 the only way to prevent convulsion ; and in the present ex- 
 cited state of the public mind, if it was any longer delayed, 
 the barriers of authority would be broken, and all the hor- 
 rors of the French Revolution brought upon the state. 
 
 On the other hand, it was contended by the aristocratic 
 party that the present was not a motion for the 
 aaaTnst^h ' reform of a real grievance, which was at all times 
 entitled to the most serious attention, but for an 
 increase of political power by the lower orders, which was 
 to be conceded or resisted, according to its obvious tendency 
 to preserve or subvert the balance of the Constitution : that 
 it was totally different from Mr. Pitt's previous proposals of 
 reform, which went to remove an admitted evil m a period 
 ot tranquillity ; whereas the present motion was founded on 
 a concession to French principles and Democratic ambition 
 at a time of unexampled excitement : that it wjs evident 
 that the popular party was already sufliciently strong, from 
 the tenour of the acts which had been passed since the Revo- 
 lution, which went rather to enlarge than abridge the liberty 
 of the subject, that any farther concession, therefore, would 
 necessarily have the effect of overloading the balance on the 
 popular side, and endangering the monarchical institutions of 
 the state ; that it was in vain to refer to early times for a pre- 
 cedent in support of a farther extension of the elective fran- 
 chise, since the state of society was then essentially different 
 from what it now is : that the power of the sword was then 
 vested in the feudal barons, and the country was overspread 
 with their armed retainers ; whereas now, the progress of 
 
 Fortunately for England, and for the cause of 
 freedom throughout the world, these arguments 
 
 wealth and the invention of lirearms had destroyed this 
 fonnidablc power, while the increase of manufactures had 
 augmented to a very great degree the power of the middling 
 ranks, and the diffusion of knowledge haxl increased tenfold 
 their practical influence ; that it might be quite safe to re- 
 quire representatives from all the boroughs, when the Com- 
 mons were a humble class in the state, and began their pe- 
 titions with the words, " For God's sake, and as an act of 
 mercy," while it would be highly dangerous to adopt a simi- 
 lar course when the numbers of that cla.s3 exceeded that of 
 the agriculturists, and their v-ealtli overbalanced that of all 
 the other orders m the state : that the example of the Long 
 Parliament sufliciently demonstrated that concession tojiop- 
 ular clamours only led to fresh demands, and conducted, liy 
 an irresistible progress, to anarchy and revolution : that the 
 fatal consequences which h.ad recently attended the dupli- 
 cation of the Tiers Etat, the parliamentary reform of France, 
 was a signal example of the effects of that concession to Dem- 
 ocratic ambit ion, which was now so loudly called for: that the 
 king had there yielded up all the prerogatives of his crown, 
 and the nobles had ma<le a voluntary surrender of their whole 
 titles, rights, and privileges, and the consequence was, that 
 the Commons became irresistible, and the one was brought t<> 
 an ignominious death, and the other rewarded by exile, con- 
 fiscation, and the scaffold : that the rotten boroughs, so much 
 the object of invective, were, in truth, the most important 
 part of the British Constitution, and which alone had, con- 
 trary to all former experience, so long maintained the l)alance 
 of the three estates, because they gave a direct influence to 
 property in the legislature, and enabled the inc leasing 
 wealth of the aristocracy to maintain its ground against the 
 growing influence of the Commons : that an inlet was thus 
 provided to Parliament for men of talent, which had proved 
 the means of introduction to our greatest statesmen, and 
 which, if closed, would degrade its character, and convert 
 the representatives of the people into the mere supporters 
 of separate interests ; that it was in vain to expect, in the 
 present period of excitement, and with the example of suc- 
 cessful revolt in France, that wealth could permanently in- 
 fluence the lower orders, or maintain its ground, if deprived 
 of this constitutional channel m the House of Commons : 
 that reform, therefore, would necessarily lead to revolution ; 
 and whaC revolution led to need not be told to those who 
 had witnessed the Reign of Terror ; that the hope of attach- 
 ing a large portion of the lower orders, by the extension of 
 the elective franchise, however specious in theorj-, would 
 prove fallacious in practice, because they would soon find 
 that their votes, from their great multiplication, were of no 
 value : that they had been deceived by the name of a privi- 
 lege of no real service, and that the only way to obtain any 
 practical benefit from their exertions was to league with the 
 inferior classes for a general sjioliation of the higher; that 
 this was the natural tendency of the lower orders in all 
 wealthy states, because union with the higher afforded no 
 immediate advantage, whereas a league with the lower gave 
 the prospect of a division of property and liberation from 
 burdens, and was. in an especial maimer, to be apprehended 
 i n Britain at this time, both because the public burdens were 
 so excessive, property so unequally divided, and the example 
 of a successful division of estates in France so recent : that 
 a reform in Parliament, unlike all other ameliorations, wa-s 
 to the last degree dangerous, because it was the voluntary 
 surrender of legislative power to the lower orders, which 
 could never be recovered, and a false step, once taken, was 
 irretrievable : that, supposing there were some defects in 
 the Constitution indefensible in theory, it could not be dis- 
 puted that, in practice, it had proved the best protection to 
 the rights and interests of all classes that had ever existed 
 in the world ; that, least of all, could the manufacturing or 
 commercial bodies complain that their interests wore not 
 duly attended to in Parliament, since the whole policy of the 
 state, for above a century, had been directed, perhaps too 
 exclusively, to their advantage : that the representation 
 which the great colonial, commercial, and shipping interests 
 now obtained by means of the purchase of close boroughs, 
 would be annihilated if this mode of entering Parliament 
 were closed : that thus the real effect of reform would be to 
 vest the supreme power in the mob of England, to the ex- 
 clusion of all the great and varied interests which had risen 
 up over the whole globe in the British dependencies : that 
 such a state of things had proved fatal to all former repub- 
 lics, and could not fail speedily to lend to the dismember- 
 ment of the British Empire : that if corruption were the evil 
 that was really apprehended, no mode of increasing it could 
 be so effectual as diminishing the close, where it existed 
 from the paucity of inhabitants on the smallest, and increas- 
 ing the middling boroughs, where experience had proved 
 hnbery was practised on the most extensive scale : that any 
 reform would thus diminish the private to increase the venal 
 boroughs ; that, as it was evident wealth could maintain ito 
 ground in the contest with numbers only by means of the 
 
238 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XI. 
 
 It IS reject- prevailed in the House of Commons, 
 ed by tte The motion lor reform brought for- 
 House of ward by Lord Grey was negatived by 
 Commons. ^ majority of 282 to 41. The threats 
 of revolution immediately subsided ; the threat- 
 ened convulsions disappeared; and a measure, 
 which it was confidently predicted would for- 
 ever alienate the higher from the lower orders, 
 was succeeded by a degree of unanimity between 
 them, in the most difficult limes, such as had 
 never before been witnessed in the British Em- 
 pire.* And thus, at the very time that the French 
 nobility, by yielding to the demand for concession, 
 and surrendering all their privileges, brought on 
 tSe revolution in that country, the British aris- 
 tucrncy, by steadily resisting innovation, pre- 
 vented it in theirs; a memorable example to suc- 
 ceeding ages of the effect of firmness and decis- 
 ion on the part of Parliament in stilling the vio- 
 lence of popular agitation, and checking the 
 growth of Democratic ambition; and a proof 
 how different the clamour of the press, of public 
 meetings, of popular orators, is from the sober 
 judgment of the British people. 
 
 As the agitation of the Jacobin clubs, howev- 
 „.„ . er, still continued, and societies, in 
 
 Bill against cor- . '.. ^. ^ .. . ■ .-^ ^■ 
 
 respondeiiee imitation 01 the parent institution 
 with France, in Paris, were rapidly forming in 
 and [irusecu- all the great towns of the kingdom, 
 tions tor sedi- g^ |jjjj against Correspondence with 
 tion and treason. „ i i t^ i- 
 
 h ranee was passed by Parliament, 
 
 notwithstanding the utmost resistance by the op- 
 position, and prosecutions commenced both in 
 Scotland and England against the most violent 
 of the demagogues. Some of them were clearly 
 necessary ; the expedience of others, especially 
 in Scotland, was more than doubtful. * Those 
 vindictive measures on the part of government 
 are seldom really beneficial, which excite the 
 sympathy of the humane as well as the turbu- 
 lent, and convert the transient ebullition of pop- 
 ular feeling into the lasting bitterness of political 
 hatred.t 'The true course in periods of public 
 excitement is firmness without severity; deci- 
 ded resistance to needless innovation, but cau- 
 tious abstinence from individual oppression. 
 
 The internal tranquillity of the British Empire 
 Preparations being thus provided for, the govem- 
 for war by ment took the most vigorous meas- 
 Great Britain ures which the limited extent of 
 and the alhes. ^j^gjj. military resources would per- 
 mit, to strengthen the grand army on the Conti- 
 nent. A corps, consisting of 20,000 Engli.sh, was 
 
 embarked, and landed in Holland, un- 
 1793 '^^"'' ^^^ ^^^ command of the Duke of York, 
 
 and being united to 10,000 Hanove- 
 rians and Hessians formed a total of 30,000 men 
 
 expenditure of money, it was incomparably better that this 
 necessary influence should be exerted in the decent retire- 
 ment of antiquated boroug^hs, than in the shameless prostitu- 
 tion of great cities : that the danger of revolution, so strongly 
 urged on the other side, in fact, only existed if the reform 
 measure was carried, inasmuch as history demonstrated that 
 no convulsions had ever shaken the English monarchy but 
 those which emanated from the House fif Commons : that it 
 was rash measures of legislation which were alone to be 
 dreaded ; and words spoken from authority, that set the world 
 on fire : that the Constitution had now, by accident, or more 
 probably by the providence of God, become adapted to the 
 curious and complicated interests of the British Empire, and 
 had enjoyed a degree of stability unknown to free institu- 
 tions in any former age, and, therefore, nothing could be 
 more rash or culpable than to run the risk of destroying so 
 venerable a fabric, under which so much practical benefit 
 had been experienced, in the pursuit of imaginary and hith- 
 erto unattainable perfection. 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1793, p. 153-165. Pari. Hist., iii., p. 787, 
 923-925. t Pari. Debates, xxx., p. 615, 620. 
 
 in the British pay. The French Con- 
 vention, early in the year, had ordered ^79'^^'^'''' 
 a levy of 300,000 men ; but these troops 
 coukl not come into action till April. The pres- 
 ent forces of the allies consisted of 365,000 men, 
 acting on the whole circumference of France, 
 from Calais to Bayonne, while those of the Re- 
 publicans amounted to 270,000, for the most 
 part of inferior quality, but possessing the ad- 
 vantages of unity of language, government, and 
 public feeling, besides the important circum- 
 stance of acting in an interior and concentric 
 circle, which enabled one corps rapidly to com- 
 municate with and support another, while the 
 troops of the allies, scattered over a much larger 
 circumference, were deprived of that advan- 
 tage. *t 
 
 The impression made at St. Petersburg by the 
 execution of Louis was fully as vivid gffgct of 
 as at London: already it was evident the death of 
 that those two capitals were the cen- Louis at St. 
 tres of the great contest which was Petersburg. 
 approaching. No sooner did the melancholy 
 intelligence reach the Empress Catharine, than 
 she instantly took the most decisive measures : 
 all Frenchmen were ordered to quit her territo- 
 ries within three weeks, if they did not renounce 
 the principles of the Revolution, and all corre- 
 spondence with their relations in that country: 
 and it was publicly announced that the great 
 fleet of Cronstadt, with forty thousand men on 
 board, should, early in spring, unite itself to the 
 British navy, to pursue measures in common 
 against the enemies of humanity .j 
 
 The efforts of the Czarine had been incessant 
 and energetic to organize an alliance T^gaiy ^e- 
 capable of restraining the progress of tweenEng- 
 revolutionarj' principles : with that land and 
 view she had restrained the uplifted I^^^s'^^- 
 arm of conquest over Gustavus III. of Sweden 
 in 1790; and hardly were her troops disengaged 
 from their Turkish enemies on the banks of the 
 Danube, by the peace of Jassy in 1792, than she 
 made arrangements for transporting the Mosco- 
 vite legions to the heart of Germany. Nor did 
 
 * Jom., vi., 49,52. 
 
 t The relative strength of the forces on opposite sides in 
 July, 1793, was as follows : 
 
 ALLIES. 
 
 Imperialists in Belgium 50,000 
 
 Austrians on the Rhine 40,000 
 
 OntheMeuse 33,000 
 
 Prussians in Belgium 12,006 
 
 Prussians and Saxons on the Rhine 65,000 
 
 Dutch 20,000 
 
 English, Hanoverians, and Hessians 30,000 
 
 Austrians and Piedmontese in Piedmont . . 45,000 
 
 Spaniards 50,000 
 
 Forces of the Empire and emigrants 20,000 
 
 Total 365,009 
 
 FRENCH. 
 
 In Belgium and Holland 30,000 
 
 Before Maestricht and in the Limbourg . . . 70,000 
 
 On the Moselle 25,000 
 
 At Mayence 45,000 
 
 On the Upper Rhine 30,000 
 
 In Savoy and Nice 40,000 
 
 In the intenor 30,000 
 
 Total 270,000 
 
 The French, however, had the superiority in the field till 
 the end of April ; from that time till the end of August the 
 allies had the advantage ; after which, from the great levies 
 of the Republicans coming forward, they resumed the as- 
 cendency, which went on continually increasing till the close 
 of the campaign, and was never lost till the memorable 
 campaign of 1799.— .loMlNl, iii., 51, 52, 53. 
 
 t Hard.,u., 191, 192. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 239 
 
 these energetic resolutions evaporate in mere 
 empty words on the part either of the cabinet of 
 St. Petersburg or St. James. An intimate and 
 confidential correspondence immediately com- 
 menced between Count WoronzofT, the Russian 
 ambassador at London, and Loi'd Grenville, the 
 British secretary of state for foreign afl'airs, 
 which terminated in a treaty between the two 
 powers, signed in London on the 25th of March. 
 By this convention, which laid the basis of the 
 grand alliance which afterward brought the war 
 to a glorious tennination, it was provided that 
 the two powers should " employ their respective 
 forces, as far as circumstances shall permit, in 
 carrying on the just and necessary war in which 
 they find themselves engaged against France ; 
 and they reciprocally engage not to lay down 
 their arms without restitution of all the con- 
 quests which France may have made upon ei- 
 ther of the respective powers, or upon such oth- 
 er states or allies to whom, by common consent, 
 they shall extend the benefit of this treaty." 
 They agreed, also, to shut their ports against 
 France, and not permit the export of any naval 
 stores to that power, " and to unite all their efforts 
 to prevent other powers not implicated in this 
 •war from giving, on this occasion of common 
 concern to every civilized state, any protection 
 whatever, in consequence of their neutrality, to 
 the commerce or property of the French, on the 
 sea, or in the ports of France." The existing 
 commercial treaties were, at the same time, by a 
 separate convention, ratified and confiimed be- 
 tween the two powers. * 
 
 Shortly after, a similar convention was entered 
 t I OK i^Ao into between Great Britain and Sar- 
 dinia, by which the former power 
 was to receive an annual subsidy of ^6200,000 a 
 And with .Sar- Y^^^ during the whole continuance 
 dinia, Prussia, of the war, and the latter to keep on 
 Naples, and foot an army of fifty thousand men ; 
 Spain. gjj(j fjjg English government enga- 
 
 ged to procure for it entire restitution of its do- 
 minions as they stood at the commencement of 
 the war; and by another convention, signed at 
 Aranjuez on the 25th of May, they en- 
 ^^ ■ gaged not to make peace till they had ob- 
 tained full restitution for the Spaniards " of all 
 places, towns, and territories which belonged to 
 them at the commencement of the war, and 
 which the enemy may have taken during its con- 
 tinuance." A similar convention was 
 ^ ^ ' concluded with the court of the two Sici- 
 lies and with Prussia, in which the clauses, pro- 
 hibiting all exportation to France, and 
 July 14. preventing the trade of neutrals with it, 
 are the same as in the Russian treaty. Treaties 
 of the same tenour were concluded in the course 
 ,» >„, of the summer with the Emperor of 
 Aug.du, i-ad. Qgrmany and the King of Portugal. 
 There was all Europe arrayed in a great league 
 g „„ against Republican France, and thus did 
 ^^ ' ' the regicides of that country, as the first 
 fruits of their cruel triumph, find themselves ex- 
 cluded from the pale of civilized nations. It 
 will appear in the sequel how many, and what 
 unheard-of disasters broke up this great confed- 
 eracy : how courageous some were in adhering 
 to their engagements ; how weak and dastardly 
 others were in deserting them ; and how firmly 
 and nobly Great Britain alone persevered to the 
 end, and never laid down her arms till she had 
 accomplished all the objects of the war, and ful- 
 
 * Pari. Hist., xxx., 1032, and Hard., ii., 198. 
 
 filled to the very letter all the obligations she had 
 contracted to any, even the humblest of the al- 
 lied powers.* 
 
 But while all Europe thus resounded with the 
 note of military preparation against 
 France, Russia had other and more secret designs 
 
 . J J • • • A . T of Russia. 
 
 mterested designs m view. Amid 
 the general consternation at the triumphs of the 
 French Republicans, Catharine conceived that 
 she would be permitted to pursue, without mol- 
 estation, her ambitious designs against Poland. 
 She constantly represented the disturbances in 
 that kingdom as the fruit of revolutionary prop- 
 agandism, which it was indispensable to crush 
 in the first instance ; and it was easy to see that 
 it was for the banks of the Vistula, not the Seine, 
 that her military' preparations were, in the first 
 instance at least, directed. The ambitious views 
 of Prussia were also, as w'ill fully appear in the 
 sequel, strongly turned in the same direction ; 
 and thus, in the very outset of a war which re- 
 quired the concentrated effort of all Europe, and 
 might by such an effort have been speedily 
 brought to a successful temiination, were the 
 principal powers already distracted by separate 
 interests, and unjustifiable projects of individual 
 aggrandizement, i- 
 
 Nor was it only the ambitious projects of Rus- 
 sia and Prussia against the independ- t,- ■ 
 
 ^T-ii ji--i_ 1 J Uivisions 
 
 ence of Poland, which already gave between the 
 
 a gloomy aUgUiy as to the issue of Prussians 
 
 the war. Its issue was more imme- ^nd Austri- 
 diately affected by the jealousy of ^"^" 
 Austria and Prussia, which now broke out in 
 the most undisguised manner, and occasioned 
 such a division of the allied forces as effectual- 
 ly prevented any cordial or effective co-operation 
 existing between them. The Prussian cabinet, 
 mortified at the lead which the imperial gener- 
 als took in the common operations, insisted upon 
 the formation of two independent German ar- 
 mies ; one composed of Prussians, the other of 
 Austrians, to which the forces of all the minor 
 states should be joined : those of Saxony, Han- 
 over and Hesse, being grouped round the stand- 
 ards of Prussia ; those of Bavaria, Wirtemberg, 
 Swabia, the Palatinate, and Franconia, follow- 
 ing the double-headed eagles of Austria. By 
 this means, all unity of action between the two 
 grand allied armies was broken up at the very 
 time when it was most required to meet the des- 
 perate and concentrated energy of a revolution- 
 ary state, while the zeal of all the minor states 
 was irretrievably cooled at finding themselves 
 thus parcelled out between the two great milita- 
 ry powers, whose pre-eminence already gave 
 them so much disquietude, and compelled against 
 their will to serve under the standards of em- 
 pires from whom many of them apprehended 
 greater danger than from the common enemy.: 
 
 But, though such seeds of weakness existed 
 among the allied powers, the immedi- wretched 
 ate danger w-as to all appearance much state of the 
 greater to France. Though their ar- French, 
 mies in Flanders were, in the commencement 
 of the campaign, superior to those of the allies, 
 they were in the most deplorable state of insub- 
 ordination, and miserably deficient in every spe- 
 cies of equipment. The artillery horses had in 
 great part perished during the severity of a win- 
 ter campaign ; the clothing of the soldiers was 
 worn out; their spirit had disappeared during 
 
 * Pari. Hist., ixx., 1032, 1034, 1048, 1058. 
 t Hard., ii., 198, 199. t Hard., ii., 200, ! 
 
240 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XI. 
 
 the license of Republican conquest. The disor- 
 ganizatiou was complete in every department; 
 the artillery stores, the commissariat, the caval- 
 ry horses, were delicient ; discipline was want- 
 ing among the soldiers, concord among the chiel's. 
 France then experienced ihe weakness arising 
 from Revolutionary license : she regained her 
 strength under the stern despotism of the Reign 
 of Terror.* 
 
 Prince Cobourg was appointed generalissimo 
 Prince Co- of the allied armies, from the Riiine to 
 i)uurggeii- the German Ocean. The great abili- 
 cralissuno. ties displayed by Clairfait in repairing 
 the disasters of the prececling campaign })leaded 
 in vain for his continuance in the command at a 
 court not yet taught by disaster to disregard influ- 
 ence and promote only merit. His successor had 
 served under the imperial banners agaitist the 
 Turks, and shared in the glories of the campaigns 
 of Suwarrow. But the Austrian commander was 
 far from possessing the vigour or capacity of the 
 conqueror of Ismael. Adhering with obstinate 
 perseverance to the system of dividing his for- 
 ces, and covering an immense tract of country 
 with communications, he frittered away the vast 
 ai'my placed at his disposal, and permitted the 
 fairest opportunity ever offered, of striking a de- 
 cisive blow against the rising Republic, to pass 
 away without any important event. t He be- 
 longed to the old, methodical school of Lacey ; 
 was destitute of either decision or character; 
 and, from the tardiness of his operations, was 
 the general of all others least qualified to com- 
 bat the fire and energy of a revolution. 
 
 To support the prodigious expense of a war 
 
 on all their frontiers, and on so great 
 otpAiicT^ a scale, would greatly have exceeded 
 
 the ordinary and legitimate resources 
 of the French government. But, contrary alike 
 to precedent and anticipation, they derived from 
 the miseries and convulsions of the Revolution 
 the means of new and unparalleled resources. 
 The expenditure of 179'3, covered by taxes, the 
 sale of ecclesiastical property and patriotic 
 gifts, amounted to 958,000,000 francs, or about 
 ^40,000,000 sterling; but the expense of the last 
 period of the year was at the rate of 200,000,000 
 francs, or £8,000,000 a month. But the period 
 was now arrived when all calculation in matters 
 of finance was to cease; for all exigencies, the 
 inexhaustible mine of assignats, possessing a 
 forced circulation, and issued on the credit of 
 the national domains, proved sufficient. When 
 any want was felt in the treasury, the de- 
 mands were paid by a fresh issue of paper ; and 
 this fictitious cuiTency, the source of boundless 
 private ruin in France, sustained singly, during 
 the first years of the Revolutionary wars, the 
 public credit. In his Finance Report lor 1793, 
 Cambon declared that the expenses of that year 
 could admit of no exact calculation ; but that the 
 nation must rise superior to its financial, as it 
 had already risen above its military difficulties ; 
 and therefore he proposed the immediate issue 
 of 800,000,000 francs, or upward of X33,000,000 
 in assignats, on the security of the national do- 
 mains, which was immediately agreed to. These 
 domains he valued at eight milliards, or about 
 £350,000.000 sterling; of which three milliards, 
 or £130,000,000, had been consumed orimpledg- 
 ed by previous issues; an extraordinary proof 
 of the length to which the confiscation of private 
 
 * ToiU., iii., 239. Jom., iii., 49, 52. 
 t Jom., iii., 62. Hard., ii., 204, 205. 
 
 property had already been carried under the Rev- 
 olutionary government.* 
 
 To meet the exigencies of the year in the 
 British Parliament, Air. Pitt proposed a loan of 
 £-1,500,000, besides the ordinary supplies of the 
 year, the interest of which was provided for by 
 additional ta.xes ; and subsidies were granted to 
 the King of Sardinia, and several of the smaller 
 German powers. At the same time, an issue of 
 £5,000,000 was voted to relieve the commercial 
 embarrassment consequent on the breaking out 
 of the war; antl such was the cfiect of this well- 
 timed supply, that credit was speedily restored, 
 and little, if any, of this large stun ultimately 
 lost to the state:! a striking example of the ben- 
 eficial efl'ect of liberal support by government, 
 even in the darkest periods of public sull'ering. 
 
 In January, 1793, Dumourier came to Paris 
 in order to endeavour to rouse the 
 Girondist party to save the life of ^u^'ier ■ 
 Louis. I'his movement, while it 
 failed in its object of preserving the king, forever 
 alienated the Jacobins from the general.! The 
 consequences of this misunderstandingwere im- 
 portant upon the futiue fate of the campaign. 
 
 Dumourier's plan, which he had been medita- 
 ting during the whole winter, was to commence 
 operations by an invasion of Holland ; to revo- 
 lutionize that country, unite it with the provinces 
 of Flanders, as was since done in 1814, raise an 
 army of eighty thousand men, and with tliis 
 force move upon Paris, and, without the aid of 
 any other power, dictate laws to the convention, 
 and restore tranquillity to France. It is one of 
 the most extraordinary signs of those days of 
 revolution and confusion, that so wild a project 
 should have been seriously undertaken by a man 
 of his acute understanding.§ 
 
 On the other hand, the project of the allies 
 was to drive the Republicans beyond 
 the Meuse, and disengage the" im- UcHglnerJs' 
 portant fortress of Macstricht ; next 
 invest and regain the city of Mentz, the key of 
 the Rhine, and then unite their victorious force.? 
 for the deliverance of Flanders. The design, in 
 general, was well conceived ; but the details 
 prescribed for the recovery of the Low Coun- 
 tries were tainted by that division of force which 
 so long proved ruinous to the allied armies. II 
 
 To carry into execution his project, Dumou- 
 rier, early in the season, collected r u j j-g, 
 a body of about twenty thousand men • > ' • 
 at Antwerp, with a view to an attack on Rotter- 
 dam. Shortly after, his troops entered 
 the Dutch territory, and established them- 
 selves between Breda and Bergen-op-zoom. At 
 first his efforts were attended with unlooked-for 
 success : after a siege of three days, and when 
 the French were on the point of retiring for 
 want of ammunition, Breda, with a garrison of 
 twenty-five hundred men, capitulated. This 
 success was speedily followed by the reduction 
 of Gertruydenburg, after a trifling resistance ; 
 and siege was immediately laid to Williainstadt. 
 The French forces encamped in straw j^jarchS 
 huts on the shores of the branch of the 
 sea called the Brisbos, were only waiting for the 
 collection of boats sutiicient to convey across the 
 troops in order to undertake the siege of Dort, 
 when information was received by the general, 
 on the night of the eighth of March, of events in 
 other quarters of Flanders, which immediately 
 
 * Tout., iii., 248, 250. t Pari. Hist., xxx., 972. 
 
 t Jom., iii., 57. Dum., iii., 352. 
 
 i) Dum., iv., 14. y Jom., iii., 64. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 241 
 
 led to the abandoment of this ill-conceived enter- 
 prise.* 
 
 While Dumourier wa.s atsent with part of 
 his forces in Holland, Miranda wa.s prosecuting 
 the siege of Maestricht, though Avilh forces totally 
 inadequate to so great an undertaking. But 
 while tlie French were still reposing in fancied 
 security in their cantonments, the Iinpei'ialists 
 were taking active measures to raise the siege. 
 Fifty-two thou.sand men had been assembled un- 
 der Prince Cobourg, with whom was the young 
 Archduke Archduke Cuarlks at the head of 
 Charles joins the grenadiers. On the 1st and -2(1 
 the army. yf March, the Austrians along the 
 whole line- attacked the French cantomncnts, 
 and after an inconsiderable resistance, succeed- 
 ed in driving them back, and in many points 
 throwing them into utter confusion. The dis- 
 couragement which has so often been observed 
 Repeated dis- ^^ seiice the French troops on the 
 asters of the lirst considerable reverse, got po.s- 
 Republicans session of the soldiers ; whole bat- 
 talions fled in confusion into France; oliicers 
 March 2d quitted their troops, soldiers disbanded 
 and 3d. from their oHicers; the siege of Maes- 
 tricht was raised, the heavy artillery sent back 
 in haste towards Brussels, and the army driven 
 in disorder beyond the Meuse, with the loss of 
 seven thousand men in killed, wounded, and 
 prisoners. On the 4th of March, the Republi- 
 cans were again routed near Liege, and a large 
 portion of the heavy artillery abandoned under 
 that city ; a few days after, Tongres was carried 
 by the Archduke Charles, at the head of twelve 
 thousand men ; and the whole army fell back 
 
 upon Tirlemont, and thence to Louvain, 
 March 6. ^^^^^ Dumourier arrived from the Dutch 
 frontier, and resumed the command. The Aus- 
 
 trians ihen desisted from the pursuit. 
 Marc 1 8. ^^jj^fjefj ■^^([h their first success, and not 
 deeming themselves sulficiently strong to force 
 the united corps of the French army in that city.t 
 The intelligence of these repeated disasters 
 „ produced the utmost sensation in the 
 
 satioii pVo^ whole of Flanders. The Republican 
 duced by party, already disgusted with the ex- 
 them ill actions and plunder of the French 
 Flanders, commissioners, now found themselves 
 threatened with the immediate vengeance of 
 their sovereign, and chastisement from the allied 
 forces. The decree of the convention, uniting 
 the Flemish provinces to the French Republic, 
 had excited the utmost discontent in the whole 
 country ; the spoliation of the churches, Ibrced 
 requisitions, iinj)risonmenls, and abuses of ev^ry 
 kind, which had gone on during the Avinter, had 
 roused such a universal spirit of resistance, that 
 a general insurrection was hourly expected, and 
 a body of ten thousand peasants had already as- 
 sembled in the neighbourhood of Ghent, and de- 
 feated the detachments of the garrison of that 
 city which had been sent against them.t 
 
 To endeavour to remedy these disorders, and 
 Efforts of" restore the shaken attachment of the 
 Dumourier. Flemings, was the first care of Du- 
 mourier. For this purpose he had a conference 
 at Louvain, shortly after his arrival, with Camus 
 and the other commissioners of the convention, 
 but it ended in nothing but mutual recriminations. 
 Dumourier reproached them with having author- 
 ized and permitted the exactions and disorders 
 which had caused such a ferment in the con- 
 
 * Joni., iii., 85. Toiil., iii., 262. Duni., iv., 4. 
 t Tout., iii., 270. Join., iii., 86, 94, 99. lb., lii., 96, 99. 
 t Dura., iT.,66, 72. Toul., iii., 272. 
 Vol. I.— H n 
 
 qnered provinces ; and they retaliated by accu- 
 sing him of entertaining designs subversive of the 
 liberty of the people. It concluded thus : " Gen- 
 eral," said Camus, '-you are accused of wishing 
 to become Cajsar : could 1 feel assured of it I 
 would act the part of Brutus, and stab you to 
 the heart." " My dear Camus," replied he, " I 
 am neither CVsar, nor you Brutus ; and the me- 
 nace you have uttered is, to me, a passport to 
 immortality."* 
 
 Dumourier found the army, which, notwith- 
 standing the detachment of twenty thou- 
 sand men in Holland, twelve thousand '"'"''^^ 1^. 
 at Namur, and five thousand in another direction, 
 was still forty-five thousand strong, including 
 four thousand five hundred cavalry, in the utmost 
 state of disorganization, the confusion of defeat 
 having been superadded to that of Republican 
 license. He immediately reorganized it in a 
 different manner, and, in order to restore the 
 confidence of the soldiers, resolved to commence 
 offensive operations. In a few days, the French 
 advanced guard defeated the Austrians near 
 Tirlemont, with the loss of twelve hundred men; 
 an event which immediately restored confidence 
 to the whole army, and confirmed the general in 
 his resolution to risk a general action.t 
 
 The Austrians had thirty-nine thousand men, 
 of whom nine thousand were horse, 
 posted near Tirlemont. R.esolved not ^=^"1^. "f 
 to decline a combat, they concentrated '''^""" ^' 
 their forces along a position, about two leagues 
 in length, near the village of Nerwinde. The 
 left, commanded by the Archduke Charles, was 
 posted across the cfumssie leading to Tirlemont ; 
 the right, mider the orders of Clairfait, extended 
 towards Landau ; the centre, in two lines, was 
 under the command of General Colloredo and 
 the Prince of Wirtemberg. On the other hand, 
 the French army was divided into eight ^^^^-^ jg 
 columns ; three of which, under Va- 
 lence, were destined to attack the right ; two, 
 under the Duke of Chartres, to force the centre ; 
 and three, under Miranda, to overwhelm the left. 
 The action began by an attack on the Austrian 
 left by the troops under the command of Miran- 
 da, which advanced in dense columns, and at first 
 succeeded in carrying the villages immediately 
 in front of their position; but the Austrians 
 having directed a severe and concentric fire of 
 artillery on that point, the advance of the masses 
 was checked, and disorder and irresolution intro- 
 duced into their ranks. Meanwhile, the village 
 of Nerwinde was occupied by the Republicans 
 in the centre, but shortly after regained by the 
 Austrians, and, after being frequently taken and 
 retaken, it was finally evacuated by the French, 
 who were unable to sustain the severe and inces- 
 sant fire of the imperial artiller}^ Dumourier 
 formed his line a hundred yards in rear of the 
 village, when the Austrians immediately assailed 
 the infantry by two columns of cuirassiers ; but 
 the first was repulsed by the murderous fire ot 
 grape from the French artillery ; and the second 
 checked, after a severe engagement, by the Re- 
 publican cavalry. The combat now Defeat of 
 ceased on the right and centre, but on the French, 
 the left affairs had taken a veiy different turn. 
 The French, under Miranda, there endeavoured 
 in vain to debonche from the villages which they 
 had occupied ; the heads of their columns, as fast 
 as they presented themselves, were swept off" by 
 the fire of the Austrian artillery, placed on the 
 
 * Dum., iv,, 07, 72, 
 
 t Dum,, iv., 74, 80, 81. 
 
242 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XI. 
 
 heights immediately behind ; and shortly after, 
 the Archduke Charles, at the head of two bat- 
 Prince talions, stormed the villages ; and Prince 
 Oobourg's Cobourg, perceiving this to be the im- 
 despatcii. portant point, attacked the French col- 
 umns with a large body of cavahy and infantry, 
 under liie Duke of Wirtemberg, in flank, while 
 the archduke pressed tlieir front. The result 
 was, that the French right wing was routed, and 
 would have been totally destroyed had the Duke 
 of Wirtemberg charged with the whole forces 
 under his command, instead of the inconsidera- 
 ble part which achieved this important success. 
 The Republicans, however, alarmed at this dis- 
 aster, retired from the field oi' battle, and regained, 
 with some difficulty, the ground they had occu- 
 pied before the engagement.* 
 
 In this battle the Austrians lost two thousand 
 men, and the French two thousand five hundred 
 killed and wounded, and fifteen hundred prison- 
 ers; but it decided the fate of the campaign. 
 Dumourier. aided by the young Duke of Char- 
 tres, conducted the retreat in the evening with 
 much ability and in good order, without being 
 seriously disquieted by their enemies. A few 
 days after the Austrians advanced, and on the 
 22d, under cover of a thick mist, made an unex- 
 pected attack on the French rear-guard ; but 
 they were repulse^d, after a trifling success, with 
 loss.t 
 
 The position of the French commander, how- 
 Disorgaiiiza- ever, was now extremely critical. To 
 tionof Lhe conduct a long retreat with discour- 
 French army, agg^ troops, in the face of a victori- 
 ous enemy, is at all times dangerous ; but it 
 was in an especial manner so at that juncture, 
 in consequence of the undisciplined state of a 
 large part of his forces, and the undisguised man- 
 ner in which the volunteers left their colours 
 upon the first serious reverses. The National 
 Guards openly declared that they had taken up 
 arnis to save their country, not to get themselves 
 massacred in Belgium ; and whole companies 
 and battalions, with their arms and baggage, 
 went off in a body towards the French frontier. 
 To such a height did the discouragement arrive, 
 that within a tew days after the battle, six thou- 
 sand men left their colours and disbanded, 
 spreading dismay over all the roads leading to 
 France. Naturally brave and active, the French 
 troops are the best in the world to advance and 
 gain conquests ; but they have not, till inured by 
 discipline and experience, the steadiness requisite 
 to preserve them ; and by the threatened defec- 
 tion of the volunteer coi-ps, Dumourier was ex- 
 posed to the loss of more than half his army, 
 while the open plains of Flanders, now destitute 
 of fortified places, olfered no points of defence 
 capable of arresting the progress of a victorious 
 army.t 
 
 Influenced by these considerations, the French 
 general everywhere prepared for a re- 
 Retreat of tj-ejt. Orders were despatched to Gen- 
 Uuiuouner. i tt n • ^u ■ r 
 
 eral HarviUe to throw a garrison of 
 
 two thousand men into the citadel of Namur, 
 and move with the remainder of his corps, con- 
 sisting of twelve thousand men, towards Brus- 
 sels, while the troops advanced, by the imprudent 
 invasion of Holland, as far as Gertruydenberg 
 and Breda, were directed to retire upon Antwerp 
 and Mechlin. Prince Cobourg in vain urged 
 
 * Dum., iv., 88, 90, 97. Join., iii., 105, 111, 113. Tout., 
 iii., 279, 288, 290. 
 t Dum., iv., 101. .Tom., iii., 117, 121. Toul., iii., 292-3. 
 t Jom., Iii., 125. D'jm., iv., 98, 102, 103, 115. 
 
 the Dutch and Pi-ussian troops to disquiet their 
 retreat; contenting themselves with investing 
 Breda and Gertruydenberg, they remained, with 
 a force of thirty thousand men, in a state of per- 
 fect inaction.* 
 
 Shortly after, conferences were opened between 
 Dumourier and the Austrian generals, Conferenoes 
 in virtue of which, it was agreed that with Pnnce 
 the French should retire behmd Brus- ^'oi^ourg^. 
 sels, without being disquieted in their retreat. It 
 soon appeared how essential such an arrange- 
 ment was to the Republican anns. On the lol- 
 lowingda}^, Clairfait, who was ignorant 
 of the convention, attacked General ^^^'^""^ ^^• 
 Lamarche, who tell back in confusion behind 
 Louvain, and left an opening in the retreating 
 columns, which, with a more enterprising ene- 
 my, miglit have been attended with ruinous re- 
 sults. The troops then gav^e themselves up to 
 despair, and openly threatened to disband ; a 
 striking proof of the little reliance that can be 
 placed on any but regular and disciplined sol- 
 diers during the vicissitudes of fortune unavoid- 
 able in war. Dumourier himself has confessed 
 that his troops were in such a state of di.sorder, 
 that, if vigorously pressed, they mu.st have been 
 totally annihilated in the long retreat which lay 
 before them before they regained the French 
 frontiers ; and yet so ignorant was the Austrian 
 commander of the condition of his adversary, 
 that he was unaware of a .state of debility, con- 
 fusion, and weakness which was notorious to 
 every peasant who beheld his retreating column.t 
 
 In virtue of the convention, the French array, 
 without farther delay, evacuated Brus- 
 sels and Mechlin, and retired in good ~^'jj ^"'^ , 
 order by Hall, Mons, and Ath, to- '^'^'■''''• 
 wards tlie French frontier. At the same time, 
 the Republicans retired along the whole line from 
 Gertruydenberg to Namur, and withdrew the 
 garrison from the citadel of the latter place.: 
 
 But it soon appeared that in these movements 
 Dumourier had more than mere military objects 
 in view. It was at Ath, on the 27tli of March, 
 that the first conference of a political nature took 
 place, and it was verbally agreed between the 
 French commander and Colonel Mack, on the 
 part of the Imperialists, " that the French army 
 should repose a liule at Mons and Tournay with- 
 out being disquieted, and that Dumourier, who 
 was to judge of the proper time for marching 
 to Paris, should regulate the movements of the 
 Austrians, who were to act only as auxiliaries; 
 tliat if he could not, by his single forces, eft'ect 
 the establishment of a constitutional monarchy, 
 he should fix upon the amount of the allied 
 forces which he would require ; and that the 
 fortress of Conde should be placed in the hands 
 of the Imperialists as a guarantee, to be restored 
 to France after a general peace. "§ 
 
 Having thus embarked in the perilous under- 
 taking of overturning the Republican, Failure and 
 and establishing a monarchical gov- flight of Du- 
 ernment, Dumourier's first care was "'onner. 
 to secure the fortresses upon which the success 
 of his enterprise depended. But here his ill for- 
 tune began. The officer whom he despatched to 
 take possession of Lisle suft'ered himself to be 
 made the dupe of the commander of that place, 
 and led a prisoner into the fortress ; the garri.sons 
 of Conde and Valenciennes successfully resisted 
 
 * .Tom., iii., 121. Dura., iv., 104, 105. 
 t Dum., IV., 109, 111. Jom., iii., 126, 127. Hard., ii. 
 214,215. X Tout., iii., 295. 
 
 t) Hard., i: , 213, 219. Jom., iii., 132. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 243 
 
 his attempts to bring them over to the Constitu- 
 tional party; and the convention, taking the 
 alarm, despatched Camus and three other com- 
 missioners, with the minister at war, Boumon- 
 ville, with orders to the general to appear at the 
 bar of the convention, and answer for his conduct. 
 After an angry discussion, Duniouricr ari'ested 
 the deputies, and delivered them over to the AUs- 
 trians ; but he was speedil)' deserted by his own 
 soldiers, and obliged to tly from his camp at St. 
 Amand, and take refuge, with fifteen hundred 
 followers, in the Austrian lines.* 
 
 Restrained either by a sense of honour, arising 
 from the recent convention, or by the inherent 
 slowness of their disposition, the Austrians made 
 no attempt to improve the opportunity atforded 
 by the defection of the French commander. The 
 Republicans were permitted quietly to retire into 
 Valenciennes, Lisle, and Conde : a con- 
 P" ■ siderable number formed an intrenched 
 camp at Famars, where, by orders of the conven- 
 tion, (Tcneral Dampierre assumed the command, 
 and sedulously endeavoured to restore the disci- 
 pline and revive the spirit which so many dis- 
 asters had severely w-eakened among the sol- 
 diers.t 
 
 The failure of the attempt of Dumourier hav- 
 ing convinced Prince Cobourg that nothing was 
 now to be made of the Republicans but by force 
 of amis, all the efforts of the allied powers were 
 at last directed to this object. 
 
 A congress was assembled at Antwerp of the 
 
 /^ „ o „f ministers of the allied powers, which 
 Congress at i i , , . '^ t. ;r • i 
 
 Antwerp to was attended by Count Metternichi 
 decide on the and Stahrenberg on the part of Aus- 
 measures for trfa, Lord Auckland on that of Eng- 
 
 the war. ^^^^^ ^^^ f.^^^^^ j^^jjgj, ^^ ^^^^ ^^ 
 
 Prussia. Such was the confidence inspired by 
 recent events, that these ministers all imagined 
 that tlie last days of the convention were at hand : 
 and in truth they were so, if they had communi- 
 cated a little more vigour and unanimity into the 
 military operations. Inspired by these ideas, 
 and irritated at the total failure of Dumourier's 
 attempt to subvert the anarchical rule in that 
 country, the plenipotentiaries came to the resolu- 
 tion of totally altering the object of the war, and 
 the necessity was now openly announced of pro- 
 viding bidemnities and securities for the allied 
 powers ; in other words, partitioning the frontier 
 territories of France among the invading states. 
 The efiect of this resolution was immediately 
 conspicuous in a proclamation which Prince 
 Cobourg issued to the French, in which he open- 
 ly disavowed, on the part of his government, those 
 resolutions to abstain from all aggrandizements 
 which he had announced only a few days before, 
 and declared that he was ordered to prosecute 
 the contest by force of arms with all the forces at 
 his disposal.l The effects of this unhappy reso- 
 
 * Toul., iii., 308. Jom., iii., 135, 137. 
 
 t Toul., jii., 319. 
 
 t Father of the great statesman of the same name of the 
 present day. 
 
 i) In his first proclamation on the 5th of April, composed 
 during the conferences with Dumour-er, Coljourg declared, 
 "Desirous only of securing the prosperity and glory of a 
 country torn by so many convulsions, I declare that I shall 
 support, with all the forces at my disposal, the generous and 
 beneficent intentions of General Dumourier and his br.ave 
 army. I declare that our oidy object is to restore to France 
 its constitutional monarch, with the means of rectifying 
 such experienced abuses as may exist, and to give to France, 
 as to Europe, peace, confidence, tranquillity, and happiness. 
 In conformity with these principles, I declare, on my word 
 of honour, that I outer on the French territory without any 
 intention of making conquests, but solely and entirely for the 
 above-mentioned purposes. I declare also on my word of 
 
 lution were soon apparent. When Valenciennes 
 and Conde were taken, the standard, not of Louis 
 XVII., but of Austria, was hoisted on the walls, 
 and the allied ministers already talked openly 
 of indemnities for the past and securities for the 
 future. No step in the early stages of the war 
 was ever attended with more unfortunate conse- 
 quences : it at once changed the character of the 
 contest : converted it from one of liberation into 
 one of aggrandizement, and gave the Jacobins 
 of Paris too good reason for their assertion that 
 the dismembennent of the country was at hand, 
 and that all true citizens must join heart in hand 
 in resisting the common enemy. The true prin- 
 ciple to have adopted would have been that so 
 strongly recommended by Mr. Burke, and which 
 afterward proved so successful in the hands of 
 Alexander and Wellington, viz., to have separa- 
 ted distinctly and emphatically the cause of 
 France from that of the Jacobin faction who had 
 enthralled it: to have guarantied the integrity 
 of the former, and denounced implacable hos- 
 tility only against the latter, and thus aflbrded 
 the means to the great bod}' of patriotic citizens 
 who were adverse to the sanguinary rule of the 
 convention, of extricating themselves at once 
 from domestic tyranny and foreign subjugation.* 
 
 The British contingent, twenty thousand 
 strong, having landed at Rotterdam, the allied 
 army, under his immediate command, was raised 
 to above ninety thousand men, besides a detach- 
 ed corps of thirty thousand Austrians stationed 
 at Natnur, Luxembourg, and Treves, to keep 
 the communication with the Prussian army des- 
 tined to act against Mayence.t 
 
 Alarmed at the great peril they had sustained 
 by the defection of Dumourier, the „ ,. ,- 
 
 •' . , , . ' Conquest o! 
 
 convention took the most vigorous Austrian 
 measures to provide for the public Flanders by 
 safety. A camp of forty thousand '•'« ^'li<=s- 
 men was ordered to form a reserve for the arrnv ; 
 the le'vy of 300,000 men, ordered by the decree 
 of the 24th of February, was directed to be hast- 
 ened, and sixty representatives of the convention 
 named, to serve as viceroys over the generals in 
 all the armies. No less than twelve of these 
 haughty Republicans were commanded to pro- 
 ceed to the army of the north. No limit existed 
 to their authority ; armed with the despotic pow- 
 ers of the convention, supported by a Republican 
 and mutinous soldiery, they, with equal facility, 
 placed the generals on a triumphal car, or de- 
 
 honour, that, if military operations should lead to any place 
 of strength being placed in my hands, I shall regard it in no 
 other light than as a sacred deposite ; and I bind myself in 
 the most solemn manner to restore it to the government 
 which may be established in France, or as soon as the brave 
 general with whom I make common cause shall demand it." 
 These are the principles of the true anti-revolutionary war ; 
 but they were strangely departed from in the proclamation 
 issued a few days later by the same general, after the deter- 
 mination of the congress at Antwerp had been taken. Prince 
 Cobourg there said, " The proclamation of the 5th instant 
 was the expression only of my personal sentiments, and I 
 there manifested my individual views for the safety and 
 tranquillity of France. But now that the results of that 
 declaration have proved so different from what I anticipated, 
 the same candour obliges me to declare that the state of 
 hostility between the emperor and the French nation is un- 
 happily re-established in its fullest extent. It remains for 
 nie, therefore, only to revoke my said declaration, and to an- 
 nounce tliat I shall prosecute the war with the utmost vig- 
 our. Nothing remains binding of ray first proclamation but 
 the declaration, which I renew with pleasure, that the strict- 
 est discipline shall be observed by my troops in all parts of 
 the French territory which they may occupy." Stronger 
 evidence of the unhappv change of systems cannot be ima- 
 gined.— See Hardenberg, li., 231, 233, 241, 243. 
 
 * nard.,ii. 238,241. Burke, Reg. Peace. 
 
 t Jom., iii., 146. Toul., iv., 4. 
 
244 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XT. 
 
 spatched them to the scaffold. Disposing with 
 absolute sway of the lives and arms of several 
 millions of frenchmen, they were staggered b}' 
 no losses, intimidated by no difficulties; to press 
 on, and bear down opposition by the force of 
 numbers, was the system on which they invari- 
 ably acted ; and, disposing with an imsparing 
 hand of the blood of a nation in arras, they found 
 resources for the maintenance of such a mur- 
 derous system of warfare which never could 
 have been coimnanded by any regular govern- 
 ment.* 
 
 While these disastrous events were occurring 
 
 r, f . onthe northern, fortune was not more 
 
 JJeteats on . . ^,' r ^i, n u 
 
 the Rhine of propitious to the anns 01 the Repub- 
 Custme's pro- lie on its eastem frontier. The for- 
 jects. ces of the French in that quarter, at 
 
 the opening of the campaign, were greatly over- 
 matched by those of the allies; between the 
 Prussians and Austrians, there were not less 
 than seventj'-five thousand men on the Rhine 
 in February, besides twentv' thousand between 
 Treves and the Meuse; while Custine had only 
 forty-five thousand in the field, including twenty- 
 two thottsand under his immediate command, 
 the remainder being stationed on the Meuse; 
 and the whole forces on the Upper Rhine, inclu- 
 ding the garrisons, did not exceed forty thousand, 
 of whom not more than a half were available to 
 service in the field. The campaign was opened, 
 after some inconsiderable actions, on the 24th of 
 M h 24 -^^rch, by the King of Prussia crossing 
 the Rhine in great force at Rheinfels. 
 An ineflectual resistance was attempted by the 
 army of Custine, but the superiority of the allied 
 Ibrces compelled him to fall back, and after some 
 da}'s' retreat, and several partial actions, he re- 
 tired first to LandaU; and thence behind the River 
 Lauter, and took post in the lamous lines of 
 
 sf 1, o, Weissenberg. Mentz was now left to 
 March 31. . » ... . . . ^ 
 
 Its own resources, with a great tram of 
 
 heavy artillery, and a garrison of twenty thou- 
 sand men ; while Custine, whose force was aug- 
 mented by the garrisons in Alsace to thirty-five 
 thousand men, remained strictly on the defensive 
 in the Vosges Mountains and his fortified posi- 
 tion.t 
 
 The allies immediately made preparations for 
 „. ^ J. the siege of this great fortress ; but, by an 
 Mayence. inconceivable fatuity, the superb siege 
 equipage, which was on the road from 
 Austria, was sent on to Valenciennes, while the 
 supplies requisite for the attack on Mayence 
 were brought from Holland: an exchange which 
 occasioned great delays in both sieges, and proved 
 extremely injurious to the future progress of the 
 allied arms. The garrison, though so numer- 
 ous, were not furnished with the whole artillery 
 requisite for arming the extensive works; but 
 their spirit was excellent, and the most vigorous 
 resistance was to be anticipated. Little prog- 
 ress took place in the operations during the first 
 •J ._ two months, and on the 17th of May a 
 ^^ '■ general attack was made on the covering 
 force by Custine's army, .supported by fourteen 
 thousand men from the corps of the Moselle 
 Defeat of the Under General Houchard ; but the 
 attack on tlie movements of the troops were ill 
 covering ar- combined ; part of them were seized 
 ""y- with a disgraceful panic, and the at- 
 
 tack proved entirely abortive. After this fail- 
 Tire, (Justine was removed to the command of 
 
 * Jom., iii., 151. 
 
 t Toul., iii., 322, 325. Jom., iii., 187, 202, 205. 
 
 the army of the north, now severely pressed by 
 the allied forces near Valenciennes ; and the for- 
 ces in the lines of Weissenberg remained under 
 the orders of Beauhamois, without attempting 
 anything of importance till a later period of the 
 campaign.* The inactivity and irresolution of 
 the allies in these operations, and the little ad- 
 vantage which they derived from their superior- 
 ity of force, and the wretched condition of their 
 opponents, proves how grievously they stood in 
 need of a leader capable of conducting such a 
 contest. 
 
 Meanwhile the operations of the siege, long 
 delayed from the tardiness in the ap- 
 proach of the heavy train, were at Fall of May- 
 length pushed with activity. Trench- 
 es having been regularly constructed, fifteen bat- 
 teries were armed on the 1st of July, and 
 a heavy fire from above two hundred ^ ' 
 pieces of cannon opened upon the body of the 
 place, the garrison of which, after a blockade of 
 two months, began to be severely straitened for 
 provisions. On the 16th, a great magazine of 
 forage took fire and was consumed; and the de- 
 struction of several mills augmented the diflicul- 
 ties of the besieged, who now fomid their great 
 numbers the principal difficulty with which they 
 had to contend. A capitulation, therefore, by 
 which the garrison should be withdrawn to some 
 quarter where their services might be of more 
 value to the Republic, was agreed to, and the 
 22d of July fijced on as the day for its accom- 
 plishment.t 
 
 While this was going on within the city, the 
 army of Beauhamois, urged by repeated orders 
 from the convention, was at length taking meas- 
 ures for its deliverance. Early in July the 
 troops broke up from the lines of Weissenberg, 
 and, after a variety of tardy movements, a gen- 
 eral attack took place on the 19th, on the whole 
 allied position, over an extent of nearly thirty 
 leagues. But the eflbrts of the Republicans, 
 feeble and ill-conducted, led to no result, and, in 
 the midst of their complicated movements, May- 
 ence surrendered on the 22d. The Duke . , 
 of Brunswick, rejoiced at finding himself "'^ ' 
 extricated by this event from a situation which, 
 with more daring adversaries, would have been 
 full of peril, accorded favourable terms to the 
 garrison ; they were permitted to march out with 
 their arms and baggage, on condition of not 
 serving against the allies for a year : a stipula- 
 tion of ruinous consequences to the Royalist 
 party, as it disengaged seventeen thousand vet- 
 eran soldiers, who were forthwith sent against 
 the insurgents in La Vendee. The Republi- 
 cans, finding the city taken, fell back in disorder, 
 and regained the lines of Weissenberg in such 
 confusion as indicated rather a total rout than 
 an indecisive offensive movement. j§ 
 
 While these events were taking place on the 
 Rhine, the war was gradually assuming a more 
 decisive character on the Flemish frontier. The 
 congress having been held at Antwerp for ar- 
 
 * Toul., iv,, 15, 16. Jom., iii., 209, 213, 225. Haru., ii., 
 257, 25S, 259, 298. 
 
 + Jom., iii., 235, 239. Hard., ii., 299, 310. 
 
 t Hard., ii., 29fi, 319. Jom., iti., 244, 252. 
 
 <) Already it had become evident that the Prussians were 
 secretly inclmed towards the French, and that, after the 
 capture of Mayence, tliey would withdraw as soon as they 
 could from the contest. During- the siege, a negotiation for 
 the exchang-e of piisoners was established between " the 
 French Republic and the Kmff of Prussia ;" and such was 
 the temper of the officers, that when the fortress was taken, 
 they caused the Marseillaise Hymn to be sung in the hotels 
 where they lodged.— See Hardenberg-, li., 303-319. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 245 
 
 P ranging the plan of the campaign, 
 
 A^we^ M having at length resolved upon the 
 decide on the Operations which were to be pur- 
 campaign. sued, and the British contingents 
 April 2o. having joined the line at the end 
 of April, the Archduke Charles entered in tri- 
 umph into Brussels, the people of which, with 
 the usual inconstancy of the multitude, gave 
 him as flattering a reception as had attended the 
 entrance of the Republicans a few months be- 
 fore. The allied generals, however, were far 
 from improiing the advantages afforded by the 
 defection of Dumourier, and the extreme dejec- 
 tion of the French army ; their forces were not 
 put in motion till the beginning of May, before 
 which the French had so far recovered from 
 their consternation as to have actually resumed 
 the offensive. Disposing of a splendid army of 
 120,000 men, Cobourg did nothing to disquiet 
 the retreat of thirty thousand Republicans, disor- 
 dered and dejected, to their own frontiers, and 
 allowed them, by his extreme tardiness, to be 
 re-enforced by numerous levies from the interior, 
 before he attempted to follow up his successes.* 
 
 On the 1st of May, a general attack was made 
 May 1. Re- ^Y General Dampierre on the allied 
 publicans position; but the Republicans were 
 forced back driven back to their camp at Fa- 
 to Famars. j^^ars, with the loss of tw^o thousand 
 men and a large quantity of artilleiy. On the 
 J. 8th, a more seriou.s action took place ; the 
 
 ^^ ■ French attacked the allies along their 
 whole line, extending to nine leagues, with 
 forces greatly inferior, but they were eveiy where 
 unsuccessful except at the wood of Vicogne, 
 where the Prussians were forced back, until the 
 arrival of the English Guards changed the face 
 of alfairs. These gallant corps drove back the 
 French with the loss of four thousand men, and 
 re-established the allies in their position. In 
 this action the brave General Dampierre was 
 killed. This was the fii'st time that the English 
 and French soldiers were brought into collision 
 in the war; little did either party contemplate 
 the terrible contest which awaited them, before 
 it was terminated, within a few miles of the 
 same place, on the plain of Waterloo.t 
 
 These repeated disasters convinced the Re- 
 Storming-of publicans of the necessity of remain- 
 the camp at ing ou the defensive, and striving only 
 Famars. jq prevent the siege of those great 
 towns which had been fortified for the protection 
 of the frontier. But the allies, having now ac- 
 cumulated eighty thousand men in front of Va- 
 lenciennes, resolved to make a general attack on 
 the intrenched camp which covered that impor- 
 tant city. The attack Avas fixed for the 23d, and 
 was conducted by two grand columns, seconded 
 by several partial demonstrations. The first 
 column consisted of sixteen thousand men, un- 
 der the Duke of York ; the second, of eleven 
 thousand men, was placed under the orders of 
 General Ferrari. A thick fog at first concealed 
 the hostile armies from each other, but soon 
 after daybreak it rose like a curtain, and dis- 
 covered the Republican troops posted in front of 
 their intrenchments, and defended by a numer- 
 ous artillery. The English troops, under Aber- 
 crombie, forming part of Ferrari's corps, ad- 
 vanced along with the Germans under Walmo- 
 den, crossed the Ronelle, and carried some of 
 the redoubts of the camp, notwithstanding a ve- 
 
 * Hard., ii., 246, 251. Jnm., iii., 149, 157. 
 t Jom., iii., 160, 163. Aim. Re^., 1793, p. 169. Toul., 
 iv., 6. 
 
 hement fire from the French artillery. The at- 
 tack of the Duke of York having also been fol- 
 lowed by the capture of three redoubts, and the 
 whole allied army encamped close to the in- 
 trenchments, the French resolved not to wait the 
 issue of an assault on the following day, but 
 evacuated their position during the night, and 
 fell back to the famous camp of Cogsar, leaving 
 Valenciennes to its fate.* 
 
 The allies, on this occasion, lost an opportunity 
 of bringing the war to a termination. Cobourg 
 had eighty thousand men in the field : the French 
 had not fifty thousand: had he acted with vigour, 
 and followed up his advantage, he might have 
 destroyed the Republican army, and marched at 
 the head of an irresistible force to Paris. But 
 at that period, neither the allied cabinets nor 
 generals were capable of such a resolution : the 
 former looked only to a war of conquest and 
 acquisition against France, in which the great 
 object was to secure their advantages : the latter 
 to a slow, methodical campaign, similar to that 
 pursued in ordinary times against a regular 
 government.t 
 
 It was immediately detennined by the allies 
 to form the siege of Valenciennes Valenciennes 
 and Conde. The army of observa- and Cond6 in- 
 tion, thirty thousand strong, encamp- vested, 
 ed near Herinnes, fronting Bouchain, while a 
 corps of equal strength, under the Duke of York, 
 was intrusted with the conduct of the siege. 
 The garrison, consisting of nine thousand men, 
 made a gallant defence ; but the operations of 
 the besiegers were conducted with the greatest 
 activity. On the 14th of June the trenches were 
 opened, and above two hundred and fifty pieces 
 of heavy cannon, with ninety mortars, kept up a 
 vigorous and incessant fire upon the works and 
 the city. Upon the unfortunate inhabitants, the 
 tempest fell with unmitigated severity, and sev- 
 eral parts of the town were speedily in flames ; 
 but they bore their sufferings with great resigna- 
 tion, till the pangs of hunger began to be added 
 to the terrors of the bombardment. Ultimately 
 the approaches of the besiegers were chiefly sup- 
 ported by their subterraneous operations. Du- 
 ring the whole of July, the mines were pushed 
 with the greatest activity ; and on the 25th, three 
 great globes of compression were ready to be 
 fired under the covered way, while two columns, 
 the first composed of English, the second of Ger- 
 mans, -were prepared to take advantage of the 
 confusion, and assault the ruins. At nine at 
 night the globes were sprung with a prodigious 
 explosion, and the assaulting columns immedi- 
 ately rushed forward with loud shouts, cleared 
 the palisades of the covered way, pursued the 
 Republicans into the interior works-, where they 
 spiked the cannon and dislodged the garrison, but 
 were unable to maintain their gi'ound from the fire 
 of the place. The outworks, however, being now 
 in great part carried, and the consternation of the 
 citizens having risen to the highest pitch, from 
 the prospect of an approaching assault, the gov- 
 ernor, on the 28th, was obliged to ca- juiy28. 
 pitulate. The garrison, now reduced Fall of Va- 
 to seven thousand men, marched out lenciennes. 
 with the honours of war, laid down their 
 arms, and were permitted to retire to France, 
 on condition of not again serving against the 
 allies. It Avas employed, like that of Ma- 
 yence, in the war against the Royalists in La 
 
 * Toul., iv., 10-13. 
 1793, p. 169. 
 
 Jom., iii., 165-170. Ann. Reg., 
 t Hard., ii., 266-7. 
 
246 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XI. 
 
 Vendue and Toulon, and there rendered essen- 
 tial service to the Republican arms.* 
 
 In this siege, the operations on both sides were 
 Blockade conducted with great vigour and abili- 
 iind capit- ty ; and the French artillery even sur- 
 ulatiou of passed its ancient renown. The al- 
 Conde. ijgg tlu'ew eiglity-four thousand can- 
 non balls, twenty thousand shells, and forty-eight 
 thousand bombs into the town. The governor, 
 General Ferrand, was arrested and brought be- 
 fore the Revolutionary Tribunal, and but for the 
 intervention of a commissioner of tlie conven- 
 tion, would have forfeited his life for a defence 
 highly honourable in itself, and which, in the 
 end, proved the salvation of France, by the time 
 which it atforded for the completion of the ar- 
 maments in the interior.t 
 
 The siege, or, rather, blockade of Conde, was 
 less distinguished by remarkable 
 ^" events. After an obstinate resist- 
 ance, it capitulated a short time before Valenci- 
 ennes, the garrison having exhausted all their 
 means of suDsistence. By this event 3000 men 
 were made prisoners, and an important fortress 
 gained to the allied forces.t 
 
 The capitulation of these two fortresses 
 brought to light the fatal change in the object 
 and policy of the war which had been agreed 
 upon in the congress of Antwerp. All Europe 
 was in anxious suspense, awaiting the official 
 announcement of the intentions of the allies by 
 the use which they made of their first con- 
 siderable conquests, when the hoisting of the 
 Austrian colours on the v/alls too plainly avow- 
 ed that they were to be retained as permanent 
 acquisitions by the emperor. This was soon 
 placed beyond a doubt by the proclamation is- 
 .sued by Prince Cobourg on the I3th of Jul}^, 
 1793, which followed, in which he declared, " I 
 announce, by the present proclamation, that I 
 take possession in the nanie of his Imperial and 
 RmjaL Majesty, and that I will accord to all the 
 inhabitants of the conquered countries security 
 and protection, hereby declaring that I will not 
 exercise the power conferred upon me by the 
 Jiight of Conquest but for the preservation of the 
 public peace and the protection of individuals." 
 This was immediately followed by the estab- 
 lishment of an imperial and royal junta at Con- 
 de, for the administration of the conquered prov- 
 inces, in the name of the emperor, which com- 
 menced its operations by dispossessing all the 
 Revolutionary authorities, restoring the religious 
 bodies, checking the circulation of assignats, 
 and removing the sequestration from the emi- 
 grant estates. § 
 
 The public revelation of this unhappy change 
 in the objects of the coalition was the iirst rude 
 shock whicli its fortunes received. It sowed di- 
 visions among the allies, as much as it united its 
 enemies ; Prussia now perceived clearly that the 
 war had become one of aggression on the part of 
 Austria, and conceiving the utmo.st disquietude 
 at such an augmentation of the power of her 
 dreaded rival, secretly resolved to paralyze all 
 the operations of her armies, now that Mayence, 
 the bulwark of the north of Germany, was re- 
 gained, and withdraw, as soon as decency would 
 permit, from a contest in which success appeared 
 more to be dreaded than defeat. The French 
 emigrants were struck with consternation at so 
 decisive a proot of the intended spoliation of their 
 
 * .Tomini, iv., 171, 174, 181. Toul., iv.. 42, 43. I 
 
 t Jom., lii., 181. } Toul., iv., 32. I 
 
 « Hard., ii., 327, 328. I 
 
 countiy ; Monsieur, afterward Louis XVIII., 
 solemnly protested, as guardian for his nephew, 
 Louis XVII., against any dismemberment of his 
 dominions : placards appeared oir all the walls 
 of Brussels, calling on all Frenchmen to unite to 
 save their country from the fate of Poland, to 
 which it was suspected, not witliout reason, Du- 
 mourier was no strajiger ; while the convention, 
 turning to the best account this announcement 
 of intended conquest, succeeded in inspiring a 
 degree of unanimity in defence of their country, 
 which they never could have efiected had the al- 
 lies confined themselves to the original objects of 
 the war.* 
 
 Custine, removed from the army of the Rhine, 
 was placed in command of the army custine 
 in Flanders in the end of May. On takes shelter 
 his arrival at the camp of Caesar, he in mtreuch- 
 found the soldiers in the most deplo- ^'^ camps, 
 rable state, both of disorganization and military 
 spirit ; a large portion of the older troops had 
 been withdrawn to sustain the war in La Ven- 
 dee, and their place supplied by young conscripts, 
 almost totally undisciplined, who were shaken 
 by the first appearance of the enemy's squadrons. 
 " He trembled," to use his own words, " at the 
 thought of what might occur if he followed the 
 example of his predecessors, and made a forward 
 movement before confidence and discipline were 
 re-established among his soldiers." His first 
 care was to issue a severe proclamation, calcu- 
 lated to restore discipline ; his next, to use the 
 utmost efforts to revive the spirits of his troops ; 
 but, as he was still inferior in number to his 
 opponents, he did not venture, notwithstanding 
 the reiterated orders of the convention, to make 
 any movement for the relief of the besieged places. 
 Incessantly engaged in teaching the conscripts 
 the rudiments of the military art, he chose to 
 brave the resentment of government rather than 
 lead them to certain butchery and probable defeat. 
 His firmness in discharging this important, but 
 perilous duty, proved fatal to himself, but the 
 salvation of France ; it habituated an undisci- 
 plined crowd to the use of arms, and preserved, 
 in a period of extreme peril, the nucleus of an 
 army on which the preservation of the Republic 
 depended. But the convention, impatientfor more 
 splendid achievements, and willing to ascribe ev- 
 ery disaster to the fault of the generals, deprived 
 him of the command, and ordered him to Paris 
 to answer for his conduct, where he was soon 
 after delivered over to the Revolutionary Tribu- 
 nal, condemned and executed, along with gsj jujy 
 Beauharnois, accused of misconduct in 
 the aUempt to raise the siege of Mayence, whose 
 name the extraordinary fortunes of his Avidow 
 have rescued from oblivion : cruel and unjust 
 examples, which added to the numerous sins of 
 the Republican government, but, by placing its 
 generals in the alternative of victory or death, 
 contributed to augment the fearless energy \vhicli 
 led to the subsequent triumphs of the French 
 arms.t 
 
 Re-enforced by the besieging armies, the forces 
 under Prince Cobourg now amounted to Rout in 
 above eighty thousand foot and twenty the camp 
 thousand horse, all ready lor action, a °^ Ca;sar. 
 force greatly superior to the dispiiited and inex- 
 perienced troops to which it was opposed. Shut 
 up within the camp of Caesar, the French army 
 was avowedly unable to keep the field in pres- 
 
 * Hard., ii., 329, 331. 
 
 t Jom., iii., 182, 184, 185. Hard., ii., 343. Toul., iv„ 44, 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 247 
 
 ence of the allies. Even this last stronghold they 
 were not long permitted to retain. In the begin- 
 Au St 8 ^^^S of August, they were attacked and 
 "^^ ' driven from its trenches with so much 
 ease, that the rout could hardly be called a battle. 
 The Republicans fled in contusion the moment 
 the allies appeared in sight ; so precipitate was 
 their flight, that, as at the battle of the Spurs, 
 hardly a shot was fired or stroke given before the 
 whole army was dissolved. After this disaster 
 the Republicans retreated behind the Scarpe, the 
 last defensible ground in front of Arras ; after 
 which there remained neither position to take, 
 nor fortified place to defend on the road to Paris. 
 The allies, in great force, were grouped within 
 one hundred and sixty miles of Paris ; fifteen 
 days' march would have brought them to its 
 gates. Already Cambray was invested; Chateau 
 Cambresis occupied; a camp formed between 
 Peronne and St. Ctuentin, and the light troops 
 pushed on to Peronne and Bapaume. Irresolu- 
 Desperate ^^on prevailed in the French army, 
 condition of dismay in the capital, eveiy where the 
 the French. Republican authorities Avere taking to 
 flight : the Austrian generals, encouraged by such 
 extraordinary success, were at length urgent to 
 advance and improve their successes before the 
 ■enemy recovered from their consternation ; and 
 if they had been permitted to do so, what incal- 
 culable disasters would Europe have been spared! 
 We shall see, in the subsequent chapter, the de- 
 plorable division of interests which prevented 
 this early termination of the war, and how deep- 
 ly Great Britain has cause to regret the narrow 
 and selfish views which prompted the part she 
 took in the transaction.* 
 
 We have now arrived at the extreme point of 
 success on the part of the allies. From this pe- 
 riod may be dated a series of disasters, which 
 went on constantly increasing, though with great 
 vicissitudes of fortune, till the French arms were 
 planted on the Kremlin, and all Europe, from 
 Gibraltar to the North Cape, had yielded to their 
 arms. What were the causes which thus raised 
 up the Republic from the lowest point of depres- 
 sion to the highest pitch of glory, will be con- 
 sidered in the next chapter ; in the mean time, 
 the events which have been commemorated are 
 pregnant with useful instruction both to the sol- 
 dier and the statesman. 
 
 1. The first reflection which suggests itself is 
 General re- '■he remarkable state of debility of the 
 flections on French Republic at an early period 
 these events, of jtg history, and the facifity with 
 which, to all appearance, its forces would have 
 yielded to a vigorous and concentrated attack 
 from the allied forces. Her armies, during the 
 first three months of the campaign, were defeated 
 in everj-^ encounter; a single battle, in which the 
 Republican loss did not exceed four thousand 
 men, occasioned the forfeiture of all Flanders ; 
 the frontiers of France itself were invaded with 
 impunity, and the iron barrier broken through to 
 an extent never accomplished by Marlborough 
 and Eugene, after successive campaigns, at the 
 head of 100,000 men. Her army on the Flemish 
 frontier did not exceed thirty thousand men, and 
 they were in such a state of disorganization that 
 they could not, by any exertions, be brought to 
 face the enemy. " The convention," says Du- 
 mourier, " had no other resource ; but the army 
 escaped from the camp of Famars to that of Ceb- 
 
 * Hard., ii., 348, 349 Tout., iv., 43-49. Ann. Reg., 
 J793, 191. 
 
 sar. Had the Duke of York been detached by 
 Cobourg against the camp of Ceesar with half 
 his forces, the siege of Valenciennes might have 
 been continued with the other half, and the fate 
 of France sealed in that position.''* In the dark- 
 est days of Louis XIV., France was never pla- 
 ced in such peril as alter the capture of Valen- 
 ciennes. 
 
 2. These considerations are calculated to dis- 
 pel the popular illusions as to the capability of 
 an enthusiastic population alone to withstand 
 the attacks of a powerful regular army. Not- 
 withstanding the ardour excited by the success- 
 ful result of the campaign in 1792, and the con- 
 quest of Flanders, the Republican levies were, 
 in the beginning of the following campaign, in 
 such a state of disoi'ganization and weakness, 
 that they were unable to make head against the 
 Austriaiis in any encounter, and at length re- 
 mained shut up in intrenched camps, from ob- 
 vious and admitted inability to keep the field. 
 The enemy by whom they were attacked were 
 by no means formidable, cither from activity or 
 conduct, and yet they were uniformly successful. 
 What would "have been the result, had the allies 
 been conducted with vigour and ability by a 
 Blucher, a Paskewitch, or a Wellington 1 By 
 the admission of the Republicans themselves, 
 their forces would have been subdued; the storm- 
 ing of the camp of Cassar would have decided 
 the fate of France.t 
 
 3. Everything conspires to indicate the ruin- 
 ous effects which followed the resokttion taken 
 in the congress at Antwerp to convert the war, 
 heretofore undertaken for the overthrow of the 
 Jacobins, into one of aggression and conquest 
 of France itself. The great objects of the war 
 .should have been to have separated the cause of 
 that fearful faction from that of the monarchy, 
 and joined in willing bands to the standards of 
 the allies, the heroes of La Vendee, and the gen- 
 erous citizens of Lyons. By that resolution they 
 separated them forever, and at length brought 
 all the hearts of the Republic cordially and sin- 
 cerely round the tricolour flag. The subsequent 
 disasters of the war ; the divisions which paraly- 
 zed the combined powers; the unanimity which 
 strengthened the French, may in a gi'eat degree 
 be traced to that unhappy deviation from its 
 original principle ; and it is remarkable that 
 victory never again was permanently chained to 
 their standards, till, taught by misfortune, they re- 
 nounced this selfish policy, and recurred, in the 
 great coalition of 1813, to the generous system 
 which had been renounced at Antwerp twenty 
 3'ears before. 
 
 4. The important breathing truce which the 
 time occupied in the siege of Valenciennes and 
 Conde afforded to the French, and the immense 
 advantage which they derived from the new lev- 
 ies which they received, and fresh organization 
 which thev acquired during that important pe- 
 riod, is a signal proof of the vital importance of 
 fortresses in contributing to national defence. 
 Napoleon has not hesitated to ascribe to the three 
 months thus gained the salvation of France.: 
 It is to be constantly recollected that the Repub- 
 lican armies were "then totally unable to keep 
 the field ; that behind the frontier fortresses there 
 was neither a defensive position, nor a corps to 
 re-enforce them ; and that, if driven from their 
 vicinity, the capital was taken, and the war con- 
 
 * Dum., iv., 4. Hard., ii.. 289. 
 t Dum., iv., 4. .lom., iii., 68. 
 t Nap. in Las Casas, li. 327. 
 
248 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XU. 
 
 eluded. The successful issue of the invasions 
 of 1814 and 1815 afford no argument against 
 these principles : the case of a million of disci- 
 plined men, under consummate leaders, assailing 
 a single state, is not the rule, but the exception. 
 5. The failure of the allies to take advantage 
 Ease with of the debilitated state of their ad- 
 which France vcrsaries, is the strongest proof of 
 might have (jjg erroneous system on \\-hich war 
 er°f'thral- ^-as Aen conducted, and the pecu- 
 lies had held liar ignorance which prevailed as 
 together. to the mode of combating a revolu- 
 tionary power. To divide a great army into an 
 extensive chain of posts, and thereby lose all 
 the benefit arising from superiority of force, is 
 generally the weakest mode of conducting hostil- 
 ities ; but to do .so with antagonists in a state of 
 revolution is, of all things, the most absurd. 
 Passion is then predominant with the multitude ; 
 and how readily is one passion transformed into 
 another; the fervour of ambition into that of 
 fear! By protracting the contest, and conduct- 
 ing the operations on a slow and methodical 
 plan, time is given for the completion of the 
 Revolutionary armaments, and the consternation 
 spread among the people by a succession of 
 disasters allowed to subside. Repeatedly, du- 
 ring the early stages of the war, advantages 
 Avere gained by the allies, which, if followed up 
 with tolerable vigour, would have become deci- 
 sive ; as often did subsequent inactivity or cau- 
 tion render them abortive. New and republi- 
 can levies, easily elated and rendered formidable 
 by victory, are as rapidly depressed by deteat : 
 it is the quality of regular soldiers alone to pre- 
 serve their firiimess in periods of disaster, and 
 present, even after adverse, the intrepidity which 
 recalls prosperous fortune. The system of at- 
 
 tack should be suited to the character of the force 
 by which it is opposed ; the methodical cam- 
 paign, indispensable in presence of veteran 
 troops, is the worst that can be adopted with the 
 ardent but unsteady levies which are brought 
 forward by a revolutionary state. 
 
 6. The military establishment of 1792 is the 
 never-ceasing theme of eulos:iimi with „ ■ , 
 
 ., . =" , ...• • ?■ , Kuinous et- 
 
 the economical politicians ol the pres- feet of the 
 ent day, and incessant are the ettbrts English re- 
 to have the forces of the British Em- ^uctiou of 
 pile again reduced to that diminutive '^' 
 standard. The result of the first period of the 
 campaign of 1793 may demonstrate how short- 
 sighted, even in a pecuniar}' point of view, are 
 such niggardly projects. Had Great Britain, in- 
 stead of twenty thousand, been able to have sent 
 sixty thousand English soldiers to the Continent 
 at that period, what results might have been an- 
 ticipated from their exertions. Forty thousand 
 native English broke the military strength of 
 Xapoleon at Waterloo ; and what was the mili- 
 tary power of France at the commencement of 
 the war, compared to what was there wielded 
 by that dreaded commander 1 What would have 
 been gained to Britain had the successes of 1815 
 come in 1793 ; the camp of Caesar been the field 
 of Waterloo ! How many himdreds of thou- 
 sands required to be sacrificed ; how many hun- 
 dreds of millions expended, betbre the vantage- 
 giound then held was regained ! So true it is 
 that a nation can never, with safet}' even to its 
 finances, reduce too low its warlike establish- 
 ment ; that too severe an economy at one time 
 begets too lavish a prodigality at another ; and 
 that years of tarnished reputation and wasteful 
 extravagance are required to blot out the efl'ects 
 of a single imdue pacific reduction. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 WAR IN LA VENDEE. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Origin of the Religious Resistance in La Vendue to the 
 Revolution. — Character and Aspect of the Country. — The 
 Socage, its peculiar Character. — Manners of the Inhabi- 
 tants and the Landlords. — Strong Religious Feelings of 
 the People. — Discontents excited by the first Severity 
 against the Priests. — Previous Conspiracy in Bnttany, and 
 abortive Attempts at Insurrection. — The Levy of 300,000 
 Men occasions an Insunection over the whole Country. 
 — Fifty thousand Men are soon in Arms.— Their Leaders 
 are appointed. — Henri de Larochejaquelein joins them. 
 — First Conflicts, and great Activity in the Country.— 
 The Peasants' rude Levies. — Their enthusiastic Valour ; 
 but cannot be kept to their Standards after any Suc- 
 cess. — Their Mo<Ie of giving Orders, and Fighting. — Their 
 Humanity till it was extinguished by the Republicans. — 
 Character of Bonchamps.— Of Catheiincau.— Of Henri de 
 Larochejaquelein. — Of M. de Lescure. — Of D'Elhte. — 
 Stofflet and Charette. — The Forces which they severally 
 commanded.— Savage Orders of the Cimvention to extin- 
 guish the Revolt. — The Republicans are defeated at 
 Thouars. — Storming of Chataignerie and Foutenay. — 
 Bishop of Agra.— Great Effect of that incident.— Victory I 
 over the Republicans at Fontenay^— Repeated Successes \ 
 of the Royalists.— Their great Victory at Saumur. — Cath- ' 
 elineau created Commander-in-Chief. — The Royalists | 
 defeated in their Attack on Nantes.— Death of Catheli- ! 
 neau. — D'Elbee Generalissimo. — General Invasion of the ] 
 Socage on all Sides. — Arrival of the Garrison of Mayence. 
 — Able Design of Bonchamps, which is not adopted. — 
 Defeat of the Republicans at Torfou.— Defeat of General 
 Rossignol and the Republicans at Coron. — General Defeat i 
 of the Republican Invasion. — Vigorous Exertions of the ^ 
 Government at Paris. — Ruinous Divisions of the Royal- i 
 ists. — Fresh Invasion by the Republicans. — The Royalists [ 
 are defeated, and M. de Lescure mortally wounded. — j 
 
 Desperate State of the Royalists. — Battle of Cholet, in 
 which they are defeated, and D'Elbee and Bonchamps 
 mortally wounded. — Humanity of Bonchamps to Five 
 Thousand Republican Prisoners. — Atrocious Cruelty of 
 the Republicans. — Dreadful Passage of the Loire. — The 
 Royalists enter Brittany. — Battle of Chateau Gonthier 
 gained by them. — Desperate State of the Republicans af- 
 ter their Defeat. — Death of .M. de Lescnre. — Attack on 
 Granville. — The Royalists are repulsed. — Their Retreat 
 towards the Loire. — They defeat the Republicans at 
 Poutoi-son and at Dol. — Tlieir great Difficulties, notwith- 
 standing these Victories. — They are repulsed at Angers. 
 — Defeated with great Loss at Mans. — Their hopeless 
 State. — Heroic Conduct of Henri de Larochejaquelein. — 
 Final Rout at Savenay.^ — Tardy Movements of the Eng- 
 lish to support the Insurgents. — Operations of Cliarette. 
 — Death of Henri de Larochejaquelein and the Prince of 
 Talmont. — Unheard-of Cruelties of the Republicans. — 
 Thurreau and the Infernal Columns. — Executions at 
 Nantes. — Company of Marat. — Carrier. —Republican 
 Marriages and Baptisms. — Dreadful Scenes in the Pris- 
 ons. — Adventure of Agatha Larochejaquelein and Mad- 
 ame de Bonchamps. — Cruelty of the small Shopkeepers 
 in the Towns. — ^Heroic Benevolence of the Country Peas- 
 ants. — Reflections on the extraordinary Successes of the 
 Vend''ans, and the Causes of their Disasters. — Vend6au 
 War finally commits the Revolution against Religion. 
 
 The French Revolution was a revolt not only 
 against the government and institutions, but the 
 opinions and the belief of former times. It was 
 ushered in by an inundation of skepticism and 
 infidelity ; it was attended bv an unexampled 
 cruelty to the ministers of religion ; it led to the 
 overthrow of every species of devotion, and the 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 249 
 
 education of a generation ignorant even of the 
 first elements of the Christian faith. When the 
 Freneli soldiers approached the cradle of their 
 religion, when they beheld jMount Cannel and 
 Nazareth, when tliey visited the birthplace of 
 Christ, and saw from afar the scene of his suf- 
 ferings, the holy names inspired them with no 
 emotion ; they gazed on them only as Syrian vil- 
 lages, unconnected either by histor}' or tradition 
 with any interesting recollections. The descend- 
 ants of Godfrey of Bouillon and Raymond of 
 Toulouse, of those who perished in the sen'ice 
 of the Holy Sepulchre, viewed the scenes of the 
 Crusaders' glory with indifference; and names 
 at which their forefathers would have thrilled 
 with emotion, were regarded by them only as the 
 abode of barbarous tribes.* 
 
 But it was not in the nature of things, it was 
 Ori i of the ^^^ '^'^ intention of Providence, that 
 re?igioi°s re- this prodigious revolution should be 
 sistaiice m effected without a struggle, or the 
 LaVeudieto Christian faith obliterated for a time 
 titm^'^^*"'"' ^™™ ^ nation's thoughts without a 
 more desperate contest than the dear- 
 est interest of present existence could produce. 
 Such a warfare accordingly arose, and marked, 
 too, with circumstances of deeper atrocity than 
 even the Reign of Terror or the rule of Robes- 
 pierre. It began, not amid the dignity of rank or 
 the lustre of courts, not among those distin- 
 guished by their knowledge or blessed by their 
 fortune, but among the simple inhabitants of a 
 remote district ; among those who had gained 
 least by the ancient institutions, and perilled most 
 in seeking to restore them. While the nobility 
 of France basely fled on the first appearance of 
 danger, while the higher orders of the clergy be- 
 trayed their religion by their pusillanimity, or 
 disgraced it by their profligacy, the dignity of 
 patriotism, the sublimity of devotion, appeared 
 amid the simplicity of rural life; and the peas- 
 ants of La Vendee set an example of heroism 
 whicii might well put their superiors to the blush 
 for the innumerable advantages of fortune which 
 they had misapplied, and the vast opportunities 
 of usefulness which they had neglected. It was 
 there, too, as in the first ages of Christianity, that 
 the noblest examples of religious duty were to be 
 found ; and while the light of reason was unable 
 to restrain its triumphant votaries from unheard- 
 of excesses, and stained with blood the efforts of 
 freedom, the village pastors and uneducated 
 flocks of La Vendee bore the temptations of vic- 
 tory without seduction, and the ordeal of suffer- 
 ing without dismay. 
 
 The district immortalized by the name of La 
 Character and Vendee embraces a part of Poitou, 
 aspect of the of Anjou, and of the county of 
 country. Nautes, and is now divided into four 
 
 departments, those of Loire Inferieure, Maine 
 and Loire, Deux Sevres, and Vendee. It is 
 bounded on the north by the Loire, from Nantes 
 to Angers ; on the west by the sea ; on the south 
 by the road from Niorl to Fontenay, Lucon, and 
 the Sables d'Oloime ; on the east by a line pass- 
 ing through Brissac, Thouars, Parthenay, and 
 Niort. This space comprehends the whole of 
 what was properly the seat of the La Vendee 
 contest, and contains 800,000 souls ; f- the Loire 
 separated that district from that which afterward 
 been me so well known from the Chouan wars. 
 
 This country differs, both in its external as- 
 
 *• Lav., i., 372. 
 
 t Guenes des Vend., i., 10. Beauch., i. Th., iv., 165, 
 et seq. 
 
 Vol. I.— I I 
 
 pect and the manners of its inhabitants, from 
 any other part of France. It is composed ibr 
 the most part of inconsiderable hills, not con- 
 nected with any chain of mountains, Ijut which 
 rise in gentle undulations from the generally 
 level surface of the country. The valleys are 
 narrow, but of no great depth ; and at their bot- 
 tom flow little streams, which glide b}' a gentle 
 descent to the Loire, or the neighbouring ocean. 
 Great blocks of granite rise up at intervals on 
 the heights, and resemble castellated ruins amid 
 a forest of vegetation. On the banks of the 
 Sevre, the scenery assumes a bolder character, 
 and that stream flows in a deep and rocky bed 
 amid overhanging woods; but in the districts 
 bordering on the Loire, the declivities are more 
 gentle, and extensive valleys reward the labours 
 of the cultivator.* 
 
 The Bocage, as its name indicates, is covered 
 with trees ; not, indeed, anywhere dis- xhe Socage, 
 posed in large masses, but surround- Its peculiar 
 ing the little enclosures into which character, 
 the country is subdivided. The smallness of the 
 farms, the great subdivision of landed property, 
 and the prevalence of cattle husbandry', has ren- 
 dered the custom universal of enclosing every 
 field, how small soever, with hedges, which are 
 •surmounted by pollards, whose branches are cut 
 every five years for firewood to the inhabitants. 
 Little grain is raised, the population depending 
 chiefly on the sale of their cattle or the produce 
 of the dairj' ; and the landscape is only diversi- 
 fied at intervals in autumn by yellow patches 
 glittering through the sun-ounding foliage, or 
 clusters of vines overhanging the rocky eminen- 
 ces. t The air in this region is pure, the fanns 
 small, the situation of the fannhouses, overshad- 
 owed by aged oaks, or peeping out of luxuri- 
 ant foliage, picturesque in the extreme. There 
 are neither navigable rivers nor canals, no gi'eat 
 roads nor towns in the district: secluded in his 
 leafy shroud, each peasant cultivates his little 
 domain, severed alike from the elegances, the 
 ambition, or the seductions of the world.t 
 
 The part of La Vendee which adjoins the 
 ocean to the south of the district, and formerly 
 was buried beneath its waves, is called the Ma- 
 rais, and bore a prominent part in this memora- 
 ble contest. It is perfectly flat, and in great part 
 impregnated by salt marshes, which never yield 
 to the force of the sun. This humid country is 
 intersected by innumerable canals, communica- 
 ting with each other, which are planted with wil- 
 lows, alders, poplars, and other marsh trees, 
 whose luxuriant foliage frequently overshadow 
 the little enclosures. The peasants are never 
 seen without a long pole in their hands, with the 
 aid of which they leap over the canals and ditch- 
 es with surprising agility. Nothing can be more 
 simple than the habits of the inhabitants : one 
 roof covers a whole family, their cows and lambs, 
 which feed on their little possessions ; the cliief 
 food of the people is obtained from milk, and the 
 fish which they obtain in great quantities in the 
 canals, with which their countrv is intersected. 
 The silence and deserted aspect of these secluded 
 retreats, the sombre tint of the landscape, and 
 the sallow complexions of the inhabitants, give 
 a melancholy air to the country; but in the midst 
 of its gloom a certain feeling of sublimity is ex- 
 perienced even by the passing traveller;! and in 
 
 * Laroch., 31, 32. Beauch., i., 8. 
 
 t Guerres des Vend., i., 16. Laroch., 32. Beauch., i., 
 8. Th., IV., 165, 166 t Beauch., i., 9. 
 
 I) Beauch.. i., 6, 7. 
 
, 250 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 no part of France did the people give greater 
 proots of an elevated and enthusiastic character. 
 
 A single great road, that from Nantes to Ro- 
 chelle, traverses the district; another 
 Personal ob- j-j.^^^^ ^q^j.^ ^q Bourdeaux, by Poi- 
 senatiou. . ,. ^ •. i • i 
 
 tiers, diverges irom it, leaving be- 
 twixt them a space thirty leagues in extent, 
 where nothing but cross-roads are to be found. 
 These cross-roads are all dug out, as it were, be- 
 tween two hedges, whose branches frequently 
 meet over the head of the passenger; while in 
 winter or rainy weather, they generally become 
 the beds of streams. They intersect each other 
 extremely often, and .such is the general unilbrm- 
 ity of the scenery, and the absence of any re- 
 markable feature in the countiy, that the natives 
 I'requently lose themselves if they wander two 
 or three leagues from their place of ordinary 
 residence.* 
 
 This peculiar conformation of the country of- 
 fered the greatest obstacles to an invading army. 
 "It is," says General Kleber, "an obscure and 
 boundless labyrinth, in which it is impossible to 
 advance with security even with the greatest pre- 
 cautions. You are obliged, across a succession 
 of natural redoubts and ihtrenchments, to seek 
 out the road the moment that you leave the great 
 chaussee ; and when you do find it, it is gener- 
 ally a narrow defile, not only impracticable for 
 artilleiy, but for the smallest species of chariots 
 which accompany an army. The great roads 
 have no other advantage in this respect but that 
 arising from their greater breadth ; for, being eve- 
 rywhere shut in by the same species of enclosure, 
 it is rarely possible either to deploy into line, or 
 become aware of your enemy till you are assail- 
 ed by his fire."t 
 
 There are no manufactures or great toums in 
 the country. The land is cultivated by metay- 
 ers, who divide the produce with the proprietors, 
 and it is rare to find a farm which yields the pro- 
 prietor a profit of je25 a year. The sale of the 
 cattle constitutes almost the whole wealth of the 
 country. Few magnificent chateaus are to be 
 seen ; the properties are in general of moderate 
 extent, the landlords all resident, and their hab- 
 its simple in the extreme. The luxury and vices 
 of Paris had never penetrated into the Bocage: 
 the sole luxury of the proprietors consisted in 
 rustic plenty and good cheer ; their sole amuse- 
 ment the chase, at which -they have long been 
 exceedingly expert. The habits of the gentle- 
 men rendered them both excellent marksmen, 
 and capable of enduring fatigue without incon- 
 venience ; the ladies travelled on horseback, or 
 in carts drawn by oxen.; 
 
 But what chiefly distinguished this simple 
 Manners of the district from every other part of 
 inhabitants France, and what is particularly re- 
 and the land- markable in a political point of 
 lords. view, is the relation, elsewhere un- 
 
 known, which there subsisted between the land- 
 lords and the tenantry on their estates. The 
 proprietor was not only alwa3's resident, but con- 
 .stantly engaged in connexions either of mutual 
 interest or of kindly feeling with those who cul- 
 tivated his lands. He visited their farms, con- 
 versed with them about their cattle, attended 
 their marriages and christenings, rejoiced witli 
 them when they rejoiced, and .sympathized with 
 them when they wept. On holydays the youths 
 of both sexes danced at the chateau, and the la- 
 
 * Luroch., 34. Guerres des Vend., i., 16. Th., iv., 106, 
 167. -t Klel.-er, .Mem., 19. Guerres des Vend., i, 18. 
 t Laroch., 34. Lac, xi., II, 12. Th., iv., 166. 
 
 dies joined in the festive circle. No sooner was 
 a boar or wolf hunt determined on, than the 
 peasantry of all the neighbouring estates were 
 summoned to partake in the sport; every one took 
 his fusil, and repaired with joy to the po.st assign- 
 ed to him ; and they afterward followed their 
 landlords to the field of battle with the same alac- 
 rity with which they had attended tliem in those 
 .scenes of festivity and amusement.* 
 
 These invaluable habits, joined to a native 
 goodness of heart, rendered the inhabitants of 
 the Bocage an excellent people ; and it is not 
 surprising, that while the peasantry elsewhere in 
 J:'"rance revolted against their landlords, those of 
 La Vendee almost all perished in coiidjating 
 with them against the Revolution. They were 
 gentle, pious, charitable, and hospitable, "full of 
 courage and energy, with pure feelings and un- 
 corrupted manners. Rarely was a crime, sel- 
 dom a lawsuit, heard of among them. Their 
 character was a mixture of savage courage and 
 submissive affection to their benefactors; while 
 they addressed their landlords with familiarity, 
 they had the most unbounded devotion to theni 
 in their hearts. t Their temperament inclined 
 them rather to melancholy ; but they were capa- 
 ble, like most men of that character, of the most 
 exalted sentiments. Slow and methodical in 
 their habits, they were little inclined to adopt the 
 Revolutionary sentiments which had overspread 
 so large a portion of the population in the more 
 opulent districts of France; when once ihey were 
 impre.ssed with any truth, they invariably fol- 
 lowed the course which they deemed right, with- 
 out any regard either to its consequences, or the 
 chances of success with which it was attended. 
 Isolated in the midst of their woods, they lived 
 alone with their children and their cattle ; their 
 conversation, their amusements, their songs, all 
 partook of the rural character. Governed by 
 ancient habits, they detested every species of in- 
 novation, and knew no principle in politics or 
 religion but to fear God and honour the king.} 
 
 Religion, as might naturally be expected with 
 such manners, exercised an unbound- strong reli- 
 ed sway over these simple people, sions feelin?s 
 They looked up with filial veneration "'' "'« people, 
 to their village pastors, whose habits and benev- 
 olence rendered them a faithful image of the 
 primitive Church. But little removed from their 
 flocks either in wealth, situation, or information, 
 they sympathized with their leelings, partook of 
 their festivities, assuaged their .sorrows. They 
 were to be seen beside the cradle of childhood, 
 the fireside of maturity, the deathbed of age; 
 they were regarded as the best friends of this lile, 
 and the dispensers of eternal felicity in that to 
 come. The supporters of the Revolution accu- 
 sed them of fanaticism; and doubtless there was 
 a great degree of superstition mingled with their 
 belief, as there must be with that of every reli- 
 gious people in the early stages of society; but 
 it was a superstition of so gentle and holy a 
 kind, as proved a blessing rather than a misfor- 
 tune to those who were subjected to its influence; 
 and while the political fanaticism of the Revo- 
 lution steeped its votaries in unheard-of atroci- 
 ties, the religious fanaticism of La Vendee only 
 drew tighter the bonds of moral duty, or enlarged 
 the sphere of Chri-stian cliarily.§ 
 
 * Laroch., 3.5. Beauch., i., 17, 18. 
 
 t Laroch., 35. Guerres des Vend., i., 24. Th.. iv., ICti. 
 i Beauch., i., 14. 15. 
 
 I) Laroch., 35. Th., iv., 167. Guerres des Vend., i., 29. 
 31. Lac, .XI., 9-13. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 251 
 
 When the Revolution broke out in 1789, the 
 inhabitants of this district were not distinguish- 
 ed by any peculiar opposition to its tenets. 'I'hose 
 who dwelt in the to«ns were there, a.s elsewhere, 
 warm supporters of the new order of things ; and 
 ihough the inhabiiants of the Bocage felt averse 
 to any changes which disturbed the tranquillity 
 of their rural lives, yet they yielded obedience to 
 all the orders of the" assembly, and only .showed 
 their predilection for their ancient masters by 
 electing them to all the situations of trust of which 
 ihey had the disposal. In vain the Revolution- 
 ary authorities urged them to exert the privileges 
 with which the new Constitution had invested 
 them; the current ran so strongly in favour of 
 the old proprietors, that all their ettbrts were fruit- 
 less. When the National Guards were formed, 
 the seigneur was besought in every parish to be- 
 come its a)mmander; when the mayors were to 
 be appointed, he was immediately invested with 
 the dignity ; when the seignorial seats were or- 
 dered to be removed tfom the churches, the peas- 
 ants refused to execute it; all the efforts of the 
 Revolutionists, like throwing water on a higher 
 level, only brought an accession of power to the 
 depositaries of the ancient authority : a mem- 
 orable instance of the kindly feeling which ne- 
 cessarily grows up between a resident body of 
 landed proprietors and the tenantrj^ on their 
 estates, and a decisive proof of the triumphant 
 stand which might have been made against the 
 fury of the Revolution, had the same kindly offi- 
 ces which had there produced so large a return 
 of gratitude on the part of the peasantry, existed 
 on the landlord's side in the other parts of 
 France.* 
 
 It was the violent measures of the assembly 
 
 Ti;=„™t„„»„ against the clergv which first awa- 
 Uiscontent ex- , ^ , , '^-, r. , , 
 
 kened the sympathy oi the rural ten- 
 antry. When the people in the Bo- 
 cage saw their ancient pastors, who 
 had been drawn from their own cir- 
 cle, bred up among themselves, and to whom 
 they were attached by eveiy bond of affection 
 and gratitude, removed because they refused to 
 take the Revolutionary oaths, and their place 
 supplied by a new set of teachers, imbued with 
 different tenets, strangers in the country, and ig- 
 norant of its dialect, their indignation knew no 
 bounds. They ceased to attend the churches 
 where the intruding clergy had been installed, 
 and assembled with zeal in the woods and soli- 
 tudes, where the expelled clergy still taught their 
 faithful and weeping flocks. The new clergy- 
 man of the parish of Echaubroignies was obliged 
 to quit his living from the experienced impossi- 
 bility of procuring either fire or provisions in a 
 parish of four thousand inhabitants.t These an- 
 gry feelings led to several contests between the 
 National Guards of the towns, or the gendarme- 
 rie, and the peasantry, in which the people suf- 
 fered severely; and the heroism of the prisoners 
 in their last moments augmented the loyalty and 
 enthusiasm of the people. 
 
 These causes produced a serious insurrection 
 ^ in the Morbihan, near Vannes, in 
 
 Previous con- ,-, , ^-nr, \ ^ ^ . 
 
 spiracyinBrit- 1* ebruary, 1/90; but the peasants, 
 tany, and ai)or- though several thousands in num- 
 ber, were dispersed with great 
 slaughter by the National Guard, 
 and the severities exercised on the 
 
 cited by the 
 first severity 
 against tlie 
 priests. 
 
 tive attempts 
 at insurrec- 
 tion. 
 
 *Laroch., 36. Th., iv,167. Guerres des Vend., i., 
 Lac, xi., 14. Beauch., i., 17, 25. 
 
 t Laroch., 38, 39. Guerres des Vend., i., 65. Lac, 
 12, 13. 
 
 occasion long teiTified the indignant inhabitants 
 into submission. Another revolt broke out in 
 May, 1791, occasioned by the severities against 
 the faithful clergy; and the heroism of the peas- 
 ants who were put to death evinced the strength 
 of the religious enthusiasm which had now ta- 
 ken possession of their minds. '■ Lay down your 
 arms," exclaimed several Republican horsemen 
 to a peasant of Lower Poitou, who only defended 
 himself with a fork. " Restore me first my God," 
 replied he, and fell pierced by two-and-twenty 
 wounds.* 
 
 During the summer of 1792, the gentlemen of 
 Brittany entered into an extensive association, 
 for the purpose of rescuing the country from the 
 oppressive yoke which they had received from 
 the Parisian demagogues. At the head of the 
 whole was the Marquis de la Rouarie, one of 
 those remarkable men who rise into eminence 
 during the stormy days of a revolution, from con- 
 scious ability to direct its waves. Ardent, im- 
 petuous, and enthusiastic, he was first distin- 
 guished in the American war, when the intre- 
 pidity of his conduct attracted the admiration of 
 the Republican troops, and the same qualities ren- 
 dered him at first an ardent supporter of the Rev- 
 olution in France ; but when the atrocities of the 
 people began, he espoused, with equal warmth, 
 the opposite side, and used the utmost efforts to 
 rouse the noblesse of Brittany against the plebe- 
 ian yoke which had been imposed upon them by 
 the National Assembl)'^. He submitted his plan 
 to the Count d'Artois, and had organized one so 
 extensive as would have proved extremely for- 
 midable to the convention, if the retreat of the 
 Duke of Bnmswick in September, 1792, had not 
 damped the whole of the west of France, then 
 ready to break out into insurrection. Still the 
 organization continued, and he had contrived to 
 engage not only all Brittany, but the greater part 
 of the gentlemen of La Vendee, in the cause, 
 when his death, occasioned by a paroxysm of 
 grief for the execution of Louis, cut him off in 
 the midst of his ripening schemes, and proved an 
 irreparable loss to the Royalist party, by depri- 
 ving it of the advantages which otherwise would 
 have arisen from simultaneous and concerted 
 operations on both banks of the Loire. The con- 
 spiracy was discovered after his death, and twelve 
 of the noblest gentlemen in Brittany perished on 
 the same day, in thirteen minutes, under the same 
 guillotine. They all behaved with the utmost 
 constancy, refused the assistance of the Constitu- 
 tional clergy, and after tenderly embracing at the 
 foot of the scaffold, died exclaiming Vive le Roi. 
 One young lady of rank and beauty, Angelique 
 Desilles, was condemned by mistake for her sis- 
 ter-in-law, for whom she was taken. She refu- 
 sed to let the error be divulged, and died with se- 
 renity, the victim of heroic affection. -t 
 
 These severities excited the utmost indigna- 
 tion among all the Royalists in the j^^.^^ jq^ 1793. 
 west of France. These feelings. The levy of 
 with difficulty suppressed during the 300,000 men 
 winter of 1792, broke out into open ""anions an 
 
 , ,,. . ' i' .1 7 insurrection, 
 
 rebellion m consequence 01 the levy 
 
 of 300,000 men, ordered by the convention in 
 February, 1793. The attempt to enforce this ob- 
 noxious measure occasioned a general resist- 
 ance, which broke out, without any previous 
 concert, at the same time over the whole coun- 
 trv. The chief points of the revolt were St. 
 Fiorent in Anjou, and Challons in Lower Poi- 
 
 Beauch., i., 26, 26. 
 
 i lb., i., 34, 63, 70, 
 
252 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 tou ; at the former of which places the young 
 men, headed by Jaques Cathelineau, defeated the 
 Republican detachment intrusted with the exe- 
 cution of the decree of the convention, and made 
 themselves masters of a piece of cannon. This 
 celebrated leader, having heard of the revolt at 
 St. Florent, was strongly moved by the recital, 
 and, addressing five peasants who surrounded 
 him, "We will be ruined," he exclaimed, "if 
 we remain inactive ; the countrj' will be crushed 
 by tne Republic. We must all take up arms." 
 The whole six set out amid the tears of their 
 wives and children, and fearlessly commenced a 
 war with a power which the kings of Europe 
 were unable to subdue.* 
 
 A few days after, the insun-ection assumed a 
 „ , j4 more serious aspect at Cholet, which 
 
 ^^'^ ' was attacked by several thousand arm- 
 ed peasants ; the Republicans opposed a vigor- 
 ous resistance, but they vv-ere at length over- 
 whelmed by the number and resolution of the in- 
 surgents. An incident on that occasion marked 
 in a singular manner the novel character of the 
 war. In the line of retreat which the Republi- 
 cans followed was placed a representation of our 
 Saviour on Mount Calvarj', and this arrested 
 the progress of the victors, as all the peasants, as 
 they passed the holy spot, fell on their knees be- 
 fore the images, and addressed a prayer with up- 
 lifted hands "belbre they resumed the pursuit. 
 This continued even under a severe fire from 
 the National Guards ; the peasants threw them- 
 selves on their knees within twenty-five paces 
 of the post occupied by the enemy, and bared 
 their bosoms to the fatal fire, as if cotirting 
 death in so holy a cause. When they made 
 themselves masters of the town, instead of in- 
 dulging in pillage or excesses of any sort, they 
 flocked in crowds to the churches to' return 
 thanks to God, and contented themselves with 
 the provisions which were voluntarily brought 
 to them by the inhabitants. Eveiy where the in- 
 surrection bore the same character ; the indigni- 
 ties ofiered to the clergy were its exciting cause, 
 and a mixture of courage and devotion its pecu- 
 liar character. In a few days fifty thousand men 
 Fifty thou- were in a state of insurrection in the 
 sand men are four departments of La Vendee ; but 
 soon in arms, on the approach of Easter, the inhab- 
 itants all returned to their homes to celebrate 
 their devotions; and a Republican column de- 
 spatched from Angers traversed the whole coun- 
 try' without meeting with any opposition, or 
 finding an enemy on their road.t 
 
 After the Easter solemnities were over, the 
 peasants assembled anew ; but they now felt the 
 necessity of having some leaders of a higher 
 rank to direct their movements, and went to the 
 chateaus to ask the few gentlemen who remain- 
 ed in the country to put themselves at their head. 
 They were not" long in answering the appeal : 
 M. de Lescure, De Larochejaque- 
 Their leaders ^^^ Bonchamps, Stofflet. D'Elbde, 
 are appomted. ^^^^ ^^emselves at the head of the ten- 
 antry over which they had most influence ; while 
 the brave Cathelineau, thotigh only a charioteer, 
 who had already, by his successful enterprise, 
 gained the confidence of the peasantr}', wa.s made 
 commander-in-chief: names since immortalized 
 in the rolls of fame, and which long opposed an 
 invincible barrier to the progress of Revolution, 
 
 * Lac, xi., 47. Guerres desVend., i., 67, 72. Beauch., 
 89 90 
 
 t Laroch., 49. Jom., iii., 390. Beauch., i., 95, 97, 102. 
 Th., IV., 171, 172. Guerres dcs Vend., i., 74, 76. 
 
 and acquired only additional lustre, and shone 
 with a purer light, from the suflering and disas- 
 ters which preceded their fall.* 
 
 While the peasants of the neighbouring par- 
 ishes assembled to put themselves Henn de La- 
 under Henri de Larochejaquelein, ruchejaque- 
 he addressed them in these memora- ^^'^■ 
 ble words : " My friends, if my father was here, 
 he would be worthy of your confidence : I am 
 but a youth, but I hope to show myself worthy 
 of commanding you by my courage. If I ad- 
 vance, follow me ; if I retreat, kill me ; if I fall, 
 avenge me." The peasants ans^vered hun with 
 acclamations; but their arms and equipments 
 were far from corresponding to the spirit by which 
 they were animated. Most of them had no oth- 
 er weapon but scythes, pikes, and sticks ; not 
 two hundred fusils were to be found among 
 many thousand men. Sixty poimds of powder, 
 discovered in the hands of a miner, which had 
 been used for blasting rocks, formed their v/hole 
 ammunition. The skill and intrepidity of their 
 chief, however, supplied eveiy deficiency. He 
 led them next day to attack a Republican de- 
 tachment at Aubiers, and, by disposing them be- 
 hind the hedges, kept up so murderous a fire 
 upon the enemy that they wavered, upon which 
 he rushed forward at the head of the most reso- 
 lute, and drove them from the field with the loss 
 of two pieces of cannon.t 
 
 La Vendee soon became the theatre of in- 
 numerable conflicts, in which the First conflicts, 
 tactics and success of the insurgents and great ac- 
 were nearly the same. An incon- tivity m the 
 ceivable degree of activity immedi- country, 
 ately prevailed over the whole country : the male 
 population were all in insurrection, or busily 
 engaged in the manufacture of arms ; the shep- 
 herds converted their peaceful huts into work- 
 shops, where nothing was heard but strokes of 
 the hammer and the din of warlike preparation. 
 Instruments of husbandry were rudely trans- 
 fonned into hostile weapons ; formed for the sup- 
 port of life, they became the deadly instruments 
 of its destruction. Agriculture, at the same time, 
 was not neglected : it was intrusted to the women 
 and children ; but if fortune proved adverse, and 
 the hostile columns approached, they too left 
 their homes, and flew to the field of battle to 
 stimulate the courage of their husbands, stanch 
 their wounds, or afford them shelter from the 
 pursuit of their enemies.: 
 
 The method of fighting pursued by this brave 
 but motley assemblage was admirably The peas- 
 adapted both to the spirit by which ants' mode 
 they were animated, and the peculiar "^ figlin"?- 
 nature of the district in which the contest was 
 conducted. Their tactics consisted in lining the 
 numerous hedges with which the fields were en- 
 closed, and remaining unseen, till the Republi- 
 cans had got fairly enveloped by their forces; 
 they then opened a fire at once from eveiy direc- 
 tion, and with such fatal accuracy, that a large 
 proportion of the enemy were generally prostra- 
 ted by the first discharge. This thicket species 
 of warfare continrxed till the Republican ranks 
 began to fall into confusion, upon which they in- 
 stantly leaped from their places of concealment 
 with loud cries, and, headed by their chiefs, rush- 
 ed upon the artilleiy . The bravest took the lead : 
 fixing their eyes on the cannon's mouth, they 
 prostrated themselves on the ground the moment 
 
 * Larocrt., i., 49. 
 
 •!■ Laroch., 66, 67. Join., iii.. 390. Bonch.,41. Beauch., 
 i., 41. t Bonch.,43. Jom., iii., 390. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 253 
 
 they saw the flash ; and, rising up when the sound 
 was heard, ran forward with the utmost rapidity 
 to the battery, where the^annoniers, if they had 
 not taken to" tiisrht, were generally bayoneted at 
 
 their homes if it was night, their ploughs if day, 
 hung their fusils over their shoulders, bound their 
 girdle, loaded with cartouches, round their waists, 
 tied their handkerchiefs over the broad-brimmed 
 
 their guns.* In these exploits the chiefs always ' hats which shaded their sunburned visages, ad 
 led the way ; this was not merely the result of a dressed a short prayer to God, and gayly repair- 
 
 buoyant courage, but of consideration and neces- 
 sity ; the Vendeans were in that stage of society 
 M-hen ascendency is acquired by personal da- 
 
 ed to the appointed place with a full confidence 
 in the protection of Heaven and the justice of 
 their cause. There they met the chiefs, who ex- 
 
 ring, and the soldiers have no conhdence in the I plained to them the nature and object of the ex- 
 
 chiefs if they are not before them in individual 
 prowess. t 
 
 Although the Vendeans took up arms for the 
 royal cause, the most perfect confusion of ranks 
 pervaded their forces. High and low, rich and 
 poor, were, at the commencement of the war, 
 alike ignorant of the military art. The soldiers 
 were never drilled, a limited number of them only 
 had been habituated to the use of firearms. In 
 this extremity, the choice of the soldiers fell on 
 the most intrepid or skilful of their number, with- 
 out much attention to superiority of station. A 
 brave peasant, a shopkeeper in a little town, was 
 the comrade of a gentleman : they led the same 
 life, were interested in the same objects, shared 
 the same dangers. The distinction of birth, the 
 pride of descent, even the shades of individual 
 thought, were obliterated in the magnitude of 
 present perils. Many differences of opinion ex- 
 isted in the beginning of the contest, but the atro- 
 cities of the Republicans soon made them disap- 
 pear in the Royalist army. Persons of intelli- 
 gence or skill, of whatever grade, became offi- 
 cers, they knew not how; the peasants insensibly 
 ranged themselves under their orders, and main- 
 tained their obedience only as long as they show- 
 ed themselves worthy to command.1 
 
 It was extremely difficult for the Republicans 
 in the outset to withstand this irregular force, 
 acting in such a country, and animated with so 
 enthusiastic a spirit. There was, in all the early 
 actions, a prodigious difference between their loss- 
 es and those of their opponents. The peasants, 
 dispersed in single file between the hedges, fired 
 with a clear ^iew of their enemies, who were 
 either in columns, or two deep, in the fields ; 
 while their fire could only be answered by a dis- 
 charge at a green mass, tlirough which the figures 
 of the Royalists were scarcely discernible. Har- 
 assed and disconcerted by this murderous fire, the 
 Republicans were rarely able to withstand the 
 terrible burst, when, with loud shouts, the Royal- 
 ists broke from their concealment, and fell, sword 
 in hand, on the thinned ranks of their opponents. 
 Defeat was still more bloody than action. Bro- 
 ken and dispersed, they fled through a woody and 
 imperviotis country, and fell into the hands of 
 the few peasantry who still remained in the vil- 
 lages, and assembled with alacrity to complete 
 the destruction of their enemies. When the 
 Royalists, on the other hand, were broken, they 
 immediately dispersed, leaped over the hedges, 
 and returned home without the victors being able 
 to reach them. Nowise discouraged by the re- 
 verse, they assembled again in arms, with renew- 
 ed hopes, in a few days, and gavly took the field, 
 singing "Vive le Roi quand"m"eme."§ 
 
 When a day was fixed on for any exploit, the 
 tocsin sounded in the village assigned as the ren- 
 dezvous of the peasants ; the neighbouring stee- 
 ples repeated the signal, the farmers abandoned 
 
 * Bonchamps, 43. Beaucli., i., 187. Laroch.,( 
 i., 391. t Laroch., 66. Beauch., i. 
 
 t Laroch., 69, 100, 101. Beauch., i., 185-190. 
 I) Laroch., 69, 70. Beauch., i., 184, 188, 190. 
 
 8. Jom., 
 186, 187. 
 
 pedition on which they were to be employed ; and 
 if it was the attack of an enemy's column, the 
 route they were to follow, the point of attack, and 
 the hour and manner in which it was to be made. 
 Immediately the groups dispersed, but the men 
 regained their ranks ; every one repaired to the 
 station assigned to him, and soon every tree, 
 every bush, every tuft of broom which adjoined 
 the road concealed a peasant holding his musket 
 in one hand, resting on the other, watching like 
 a savage animal, without either moving or draw- 
 ing his breath.* 
 
 Meanwhile the enemy's column advanced, pre- 
 ceded by a cloud of scouts and light troops, who 
 were allowed to proceed without challenge close 
 to the lurking foe. They waited till the division 
 was fairly engaged in the defile, and was so far 
 advanced that it could not recede ; then a cr)' was 
 suddenly raised like that of a cat, and repeated 
 along the whole line, as a signal that eveiy one 
 was at his post. If the same answer was given, 
 a human voice was suddenly heard ordering the 
 attack. In.stantly a deadly volley proceeded from 
 eveiy tree, every hedge, every thicket : a shower 
 of balls fell upon the soldiers, without their being 
 able to see the assailants; the dead and the woimd- 
 ed fell together into the bottom of the road ; and 
 if the column did not immediately fall into con- 
 fusion, and the voice of the officer, heard above 
 the roar of musketrj', roused them to burst 
 through the hedges by which they were envel- 
 oped, the peasants instantly fell back behind the 
 next enclosure, and from its leafy rampart a fire 
 as deadly proceeded as that which mowed them 
 down on the road. If this second hedge was car- 
 ried in the same manner, three, four, ten, twenty 
 intrenchments of the same sort offer their sup- 
 port to that murderous retreat ; for the whole 
 country is subdivided in this manner, and every- 
 where offers to its children an asylum, to its ene- 
 mies a tomb.t 
 
 But the great cause of the early and astonish- 
 ing success of the Vendeans was their xheir en- 
 enthusiastic and indomitable valour, thusiastic 
 The Republicans were, for the most valour, 
 part, composed of National Guards and volun- 
 teers, who, though greatly better amied, equip- 
 ped, and disciplined, were totally destitute of the 
 ardent, devoted spirit with which the Royalists 
 were animated. The former took the field from 
 no common feeling, but from the terror of the 
 requisitions and sanguinary mea.sures of the 
 convention ; the latter fought alongside of their 
 neighbours and landlords, in defence of their 
 hearths, their children, and their religion ; the 
 one acted in obedience to the dictates of an un- 
 seen but terrible power, which had crushed the 
 freedom in whose name they were arrayed ; the 
 other yielded to their hereditary feelings of loyal- 
 ty, and deemed themselves secure of Paradise in 
 combating for their salvation.t 
 
 Had the Vendean chiefs possessed the same 
 
 * Desmoncourt, La Vendee, 30. t Ibid., 31. 
 
 t Guerres des Vend., i., 55. Laroch., 70. Beauch., i., 
 185, 189. 
 
254 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. Xfl. 
 
 authority over their troops which is enjoyed by 
 the commanders of regular soldiers, they might 
 at one time have marched to Paris, and done that 
 which all the forces of the coalition were unable 
 to etiect. But their greatest success was always 
 paralyzed by the impossibility of retaining the 
 soldiers at their colours for any considerable 
 length of time. The bulk of the forces were 
 „ " ^ J. never assembled for more than tliree 
 be" kep ""to or four days together. No sooner was 
 their stand- the battle lost or won, the expedition 
 ards after successful or defeated, than the peas- 
 any success. ^^^ returned to their homes. The 
 chiefs were left alone with a few deserters or 
 strangers who had no family to return to, and all 
 the advantages of former success were lo.st for 
 want of the means of following them up. The 
 army, however, was as easily reformed as it was 
 dissolved; messengers were despatched to all 
 the parishes ; the tocsin sounded, the peasants as- 
 sembled at their parish churches, when the re- 
 quisition was read, which was generally in the 
 following terms : " In the holy name of God! and 
 by the command of the king, this parish is in- 
 vited to send as many men as possible to such a 
 place, at such an hour, with provisions for .so 
 many days." The order was obeyed with alac- 
 rity ; the only emulation among the peasants was, 
 who should attend the expedition. Each soldier 
 brought a certain quantity of bread with him, 
 and some stores were also provided by the gen- 
 erals. The corn and oxen necessary for the sub- 
 sistence of the army were voluntarily furnished 
 by the gentlemen and chief proprietors, or drawn 
 by requisitions from the estates of the emigrants, 
 and as the troops never remained together for any 
 length of time, no want of provisions was ever 
 experienced. The villages vied with each other 
 for the privilege of sending carts for the service 
 of the army, and the peasant-girls flocked to the 
 chapels oil the roadside to furnish provisions to 
 the soldiers, or offer up prayers for their success.* 
 
 The army had neither chariots nor baggage- 
 wagons; tents were totally out of the question; 
 but the hospitals were regulated with peculiar 
 care, all the wounded, whether Royalists or Re- 
 publicans, being transported to St. Laurent sur 
 Sevre, where the charitable sisters and religious 
 votaries, who flocked from all quarters to the 
 scene of wo, assuaged their si^erings. They 
 never could be brought to establish patrols or 
 sentinels, or take any of the precautions against 
 surprise which are in use among regular troops ; 
 and this irregularity not only exposed them to 
 frequent reverses, but rendered unavailing their 
 greatest successes. The men marched, in gen- 
 eral, four abreast, the officers in front being alone 
 acquainted with their destination. They had 
 few dragoons ; and their cavalry, which never 
 exceeded nine hundred men, was almost entirely 
 mounted by the horses taken from the Republi- 
 cans. + 
 
 When the troops were assembled, they were 
 Their mode divided into different columns, to at- 
 of giving tack the points selected by the gener- 
 orders and als. The only orders given were, 
 fightmgf. Such a leader goes such a road — w^ho 
 follows him 1 Arrived at the point of attack, the 
 commands were given after the same fashion : 
 Move towards that house — towards that tree ; leap 
 that hedge, were the only orders ever issued. 
 Neither threats, nor the promise of rewards, could 
 
 * Laroch., 101, 102. Jom., iii., 390, 391, 397. Th., iv., 
 174. Beauch., i., 184. Guerres des Vend , i., 98. 
 t Beanch., i., 185, 186. Laroch., 103. 
 
 induce them to send forward scouts ; when that 
 duty was necessary, the officers were obliged to 
 take it upon themselves. The peasants never 
 went into battle without saying their prayers, 
 and generally made the sign of the cross before 
 they discharged their flrelocks. They had a few 
 standards, which were displayed on important 
 occasions ; but no sooner was the victoiy gained, 
 than they piled standards and drums upon their 
 carts, and returned with songs of triumph to their 
 villages.* 
 
 When the battle began, and the sound of the 
 musketry and cannon was heard, the women, the 
 children, the sick, and the aged, flocked to the 
 churches, or prostrated themselves in the fields 
 to implore a blessing on their anns. With truth 
 it might be said that, on such occasions, there 
 was but one thought, one wish, throughout La 
 Vendee; every one awaiting in prayer the issue 
 of a struggle on which the fate of all depended. + 
 
 As the insurrection broke out from the preva- 
 lence of a common feeling, without any previous 
 concert, so it was conducted -without any definite 
 object, or the least alloy of individual ambition. 
 Even after their great successes had inspired the 
 most desponding with the hope of contributing 
 in a powerful manner to the restoration of the 
 monarchy, the wishes of the insurgents were of 
 the most moderate kind. To have the king once 
 visit their sequestered country; to be allowed, 
 in memor}' of the war, to have a white flag on 
 each steeple; to be permitted to furnish a de- 
 tachment for the body-guard of the sovereign, 
 and to have some old projects for the improve- 
 ment of the roads and the navigation of the coun- 
 try carried into effect, constituted the sole wishes 
 of those whose valour had so nearly accomplish- 
 ed the restoration of the monarchy.! 
 
 The early successes of the Vendeans, and their 
 enthtisiastic valour, did not extinguish 
 the humanity which their dispositions ^^^'^y "-u 
 and the influence of religion had nour- it was'e'xtin- 
 ished in their bosoms. In the latter g-uished by 
 stages of the war, the atrocities of the 'heRepubh- 
 Republicans, the sight of their villa- 
 ges in flames, and their wives and children mas- 
 sacred, inflamed an unextinguishable desire of 
 vengeance ; but during the first months of the 
 contest their gentleness was as touching as their 
 valour was admirable. After entering by assault 
 into the towns, they neither pillaged the inhabi- 
 tants, nor exacted either contribution or ransom; 
 frequently they were to be seen, shivering with 
 cold or starving with hunger, in quarters abound- 
 ing both with fuel and provisions.§ " In the 
 house where I lodged," says Madame de La- 
 rochejaquelein, at Bressuire, "there were many 
 soldiers who were lamenting that they had no to- 
 bacco: I asked if there was none in the town. 
 'Plenty,' they replied, 'but we have no money to 
 buy it.' Under our windovvs a quarrel arose 
 between two horsemen, and the one wounded the 
 other slightly with his sabre; his antagonist 
 quickly disarmed him, and was proceeding to 
 extremities, when M. de Larochejaquelein ex- 
 claimed from the windows, ' .Tesus Christ par- 
 doned his murderers, and a soldier of the Chris- 
 tian army is about to kill his comrade.' The 
 man, abashed, put up his sabre and embraced 
 his enemy. "il These touching incidents occurred 
 in a town recently canied by main force, occu- 
 pied at the time by twenty thousand insurgents, 
 
 * Laroch., 104. Jom.. iii., 390, 391. t Laroch., 104. 
 t Ibid., 104, 105. I) Ibid., 90. II Ibid., 91. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 255 
 
 and peculiarly obnoxious to the Royalists, from 
 the cruelly which its National Guards had exer- 
 cised toward.s the peasantry. "In this town," 
 she adds, " I was surprised in the evening to see 
 all the soldiers in the house with me on their 
 knees at prayers, and the streets filled with peas- 
 ants at their devotion; when they were concluded, 
 they led me out to see their favourite cannon, 
 called Marie Jeanne, their first trophy from the 
 Republicans, which, after having been retaken, 
 had again fallen into their hands ; it was deco- 
 rated with flowers and ribands, and the peasants 
 embraceil it with tears of joy." When Thouars 
 was carried by assault, the Republican inhabi- 
 tants were in the utmost consternation, as they 
 anticipated a severe retaliation for the massacre 
 jierpetrated by them upon the Royalists in that 
 town in the August preceding. What then was 
 their astonishment when they beheld the soldiers, 
 instead of plundering^ir committing acts of cru- 
 elty, flacking to the churches, and returning 
 thanks to God at the altars for the success with 
 which he had blessed their arms. Even the gar- 
 rison was treated with the most signal humanity. 
 Twelve only were retained from each depart- 
 ment as hostages, and the remainder, without 
 either ransom or exchange, dismissed to their 
 homes.' 
 
 In one district only the insurrection was stain- 
 ed with the most frightful atrocities. In the 
 marshes of Lower Poitou the peasants were 
 seized with an incontrollable thirst for ven- 
 geance, in consequence of the cruelties exerci.sed 
 by the R.epublicans on the Royalist leaders du- 
 ring the insurrection of the preceding summer. 
 Machecoult was captured during the absence of 
 Charelte ; and, under the influence of revolting 
 news of the Republican cruelties at Nantes and 
 Paris, the prisons were forced by a furious mob, 
 and above eighty Republicans massacred in one 
 day. Nearly five hundred Republicans fell vic- 
 tims to the rage of a Royalist committee, at the 
 head of which was a wretch named Souchu, who 
 soon after hoisted his true colours, and joined 
 the Republicans, but fell a victim to the just in- 
 dignation of the widows of those he had mur- 
 dered.t Charette, on his return, was horror- 
 struck at these atrocities, and, finding his mili- 
 tary authority not yet sufficiently established to 
 coerce them, he had recourse to the clergy to aid 
 his efforts. They fabricated a miracle at the 
 tomb of a saint to influence the minds of the 
 people, and while they were prostrated round the 
 altar, conjured them, in the name of the God of 
 Peace, never to kill but in the hour of combat. 
 At the same tinie, Charelte forbid any prisoner 
 to be slain in his army, under pain of death, and 
 concealed in his own house several zealous Re- 
 publicans, whose heads were loudly demanded 
 by his soldiers. By these means, the cruelty 
 which had commenced and stained the Royalist 
 cause in Lower Poitou was arrested, and a re- 
 ply made, in a true Christian spirit, to the sav- 
 age decrees of the convention, which 
 j.jgg'' ' had ordered eveiy Vendean taken in 
 arms to be put to death without mercy 
 in twenty-four hours.t 
 
 M. Bonchamps, chief of the army of Anjou, 
 was the most distinguished of the 
 BonSamps Royali,st leaders. To the heroic cour- 
 age of the other chiefs, he joined con- 
 summate military talents, and an eloquence 
 
 ♦ Beauch., i., 163, 164. Guerres des Vend , :., 89. 
 t Beaach., i., 123, 124, 129. Th., iv., 172. 
 i Pieces Just., No. 10. Beauch., i , 116, 123. 
 
 which at once gave him an unlimited sway over 
 the minds of the soldiers. Had he lived, the 
 fate of the war would in all probability have 
 been widely different, and the expedition beyond 
 the Loire, wliich led to such disastrous results, the 
 commencement of the most splendid success. 
 Gentle in his manners, humane in his conduct, 
 affable in his demeanour, he was adored by his 
 soldiers, who were at once the most skilful and 
 best disciplined of the Vendean corps. In the 
 midst of the furies of a civil war, and the dis- 
 sensions of rival chiefs, he was the enemy of in- 
 trigue ; free from personal ambition, he was in- 
 trusted with an important command solely from 
 his personal merits. His character may be ap- 
 preciated from the words which he addressed to 
 his young and weeping wife, when he put him- 
 self at the head of his troops. " Summon to 
 your aid all your courage ; redouble your pa- 
 tience and resignation : you will have need for 
 the exerci.se of all these virtues. We must not 
 deceive ourselves; we can look for no recom- 
 pense in this world for what we are to suffer : all 
 that it could offer would be beneath the purity 
 of our motives and the sanctity of our cause. 
 We must never expect human glory ; civil strife 
 affords none. We shall see our houses burned ; 
 we shall be plundered, proscribed, outraged, ca- 
 lumniated, perhaps massacred. Let us thank 
 God for enabling us to foresee the worst, since 
 that presage, by redoubling the merit of our ac- 
 tions, will enable us to anticipate the heavenly 
 reward which awaits those who are courageous 
 in adversity and constant in suffering. Let us 
 raise our eyes and our thoughts to Heaven : it is 
 there that we shall find a guide which cannot 
 mislead, a force which cannot be shaken, an 
 eternal reward for transitory grief."* 
 
 Cathelineau, a peasant by birth, and a chari- 
 oteer by profession, was the first of the 
 chiefs who acquired the unlimited „eaur'*^ 
 confidence of the soldiers. To an ex- 
 traordinary degree of intelligence, and the strong- 
 est natural sagacity, he joined a nervous elo- 
 quence, admirably calculated to influence the 
 soldiers. His age was thirty-four years ; his 
 disposition humble, modest, and retiring. Such 
 was his reputation for piety and rectitude, that 
 the peasants called him the Saint of Anjou, and * 
 earnestly sought to be placed in battle by his 
 side, deeming it impossible that those could be 
 wounded who were near so unblemished a man.t 
 
 Henri de Larochejaquelein, son of the Mar- 
 quis Larochejaquelein, was the lead- of Henri de 
 er of all the parishes which were sit- Larocheja- 
 uated round Chatillon. He refused to queiem. 
 follow the general tide of emigration, and, on the 
 contrary, repaired to Paris to defend the constitu- 
 tional monarchy ; and when the revolt on the 10th 
 of August overturned the throne, he set out for 
 La Vendee, exclaiming, " I will retire to my prov- 
 ince, and soon you will hear of me." Though 
 still young, he acquired the confidence of the 
 soldiers b}' his invincible courage and coolness 
 in action, which gained for him the surname of 
 the Intrepid. He was reproached for being too 
 forward in battle, carried away by his ardour, 
 forgetting the general in the soldier. Frequent- 
 ly, before making a prisoner, he offered to give 
 him the chance of escape by a personal conflict. 
 Councils of war, or the duties of a commander, 
 fatigued his buoyant disposition, and he gener- 
 
 * Bonch., 25. Beauch., i , 98. Jom., iii., 392. Th., iv. 
 176. Laroch., 93. t Laroch., 95. Beauch., i., 91, 92 
 
256 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XU. 
 
 ally fell asleep after giving his opinion, and an- 
 swered to the reproaches of his brother olficer.s, 
 " Why do you insist upon making nie a gener- 
 al; I wish only to be a hussar, to have the pleas- 
 ure of fighting." Notwithstanding this passion 
 for danger, he was full of sweetness and human- 
 ity, and when the combat was over, no one was 
 more generous to the vanquished. Even after 
 his eminent services, he formed only the most 
 humble wishes for himself " Should we re- 
 place the king on the throne," said he, " I hope 
 he will give me a regiment of hussars." He 
 performed the most eminent services in the war, 
 and at its most critical period was unanimously 
 elected to the supreme command. After innu- 
 merable heroic actions, he fell in an obscure 
 skirmish, and was interred in the cemetery of 
 St. Aubin. " Chance," says the annalist, "has 
 covered his tomb, as well as that of his brother 
 Louis, with the flower of Achilles, and never 
 did it blossom over remains more worthy of the 
 name."* 
 M. de Lescure, the cousin and intimate friend 
 of Henri de Larochejaquelein, Avas 
 cifre^' ^^ ^^^" distinguished by a bravery of a to- 
 tally different character: cool, in- 
 trepid, and sagacious, he was not less daring 
 than his youthful comrade ; but his valour was 
 the result of reflection and a sense of duty. His 
 counsels were much regarded, from his knowl- 
 edge of fortification and the art of war, but a cer- 
 tain degree of obstinacy diminished the weight 
 of his opinions. His humanity was angelic : 
 during the whole of that terrible war, in which 
 generals as well as soldiers so often fought per- 
 sonally with their enemies, no one ever fell by 
 his hand ; and even in the worst times, when the 
 cruelties of the Republicans had roused the most 
 gentle to fury, he incessantly laboured to save 
 the lives of the prisoners. Learned, studious, 
 and thoughtful, he had prescribed to himself, at 
 the age of eighteen, the most severe economy, to 
 discharge the debts of an extravagant father; 
 and it was not till he was twenty-five, and had 
 become a father, that gentler feelings softened 
 the native austerity of his character. His young 
 wife, only daughter of the Marquis of Donnis- 
 san, a rich heiress, united to all the beauty and 
 graces more than the courage of her sex. The 
 only occasion on which he was ever heard to 
 swear was when his indignant soldiers massa- 
 cred a prisoner behind his back, whom he had 
 disarmed in the act of discharging a musket at 
 his bosom. The number of lives which he saved 
 during the war was incalculable ; and alone of 
 all the chiefs in that memorable struggle, it could 
 be said with truth that his glory was unstained 
 by human blood.t 
 
 In the grand army, as it was called, of La 
 , _, Vendee, the principal chief was M. 
 
 oi u j^ibee. (i^Eii^^e^ Qf Saxon descent, but natu- 
 ralized in France. He was forty years old when 
 the contest commenced, ignorant of the world, 
 devout, enthusiastic, and superstitious ; hut his 
 principal merit consisted in an extraordinary 
 coolness in danger, which rivalled that of Mar- 
 shal Ney himself His devotion was sincere ; 
 but finding, like Cromwell, that it was the most 
 powerful lever to move the peasants, he carried 
 it to an extravagant height. He acquired, by ex- 
 traordinary sanctity, an unbounded ascendency 
 over his soldiers, and justified their confidence 
 
 * Genoude,47. Bonch., 41. Laroch., 96, 98. Jom.,iii., 
 393, t Laroch., 97. Bonch., 47. Beauch., i., 147. 
 
 by great talents as a leader, which ultimately led 
 to his appointment as commander-in-chief: a 
 situation which he filled with unshaken firm- 
 ness during a period of disaster and ruin.* 
 
 Stofllet, an Alsacian by birth, and a game- 
 keeper by profession, was early dislin- g „ 
 guished by his devotion to the royal 
 cause, and headed sonie of the first detachments 
 which took the field. Endowed with a powerful 
 frame, hardy in his habits, harsh in his manners, 
 he never acquired, like the chiefs of gentle blood, 
 the love of the soldiers; but his stern character 
 and unbending severity made him more implicit- 
 ly obeyed than any other leader, and on that ac- 
 count his services were highly prized by the Roy- 
 alist generals.t Active, intelligent, and brave, 
 he was a skilful partisan rather than a con- 
 summate general; and when the death of the 
 other chiefs opened to h^n the way to a high 
 command, his ambition and jealousy contributed 
 much to the ruin of the common cause. 
 
 Charette, the last of this illustrious band, suc- 
 ceeded to eminence late in the strug- , , „, 
 
 1 1 1 .u u 1 u And Charette. 
 
 gle ; and Avhen the war had become 
 
 an affair of posts, rather than a regular contest. 
 He was originally a lieutenant in the navy, and 
 of a feeble and delicate constitution ; but the 
 habits of the chase, to which he was passionate- 
 ly attached, and in which he frequently lay for 
 months in the woods, strengthened his frame to 
 such a degree as rendered him capable of en- 
 during any fatigue, and made him intimately ac- 
 quainted both with the peasantry and the country 
 which he had occasion to traverse. He was for 
 some days unwilling to place himself at the head 
 of the peasantry, who entreated him to take the 
 command, from a distrust of success with their 
 feeble means ; and when he was prevailed on, he 
 showed at once his decision of character, by re- 
 quiring from them instantaneous submission to 
 his orders and his spirit of devotion, by taking 
 an oath on the Gospels, at the high altar of the 
 church of Machecoult, to be faithful to the 
 cause of God and the throne. His courage was 
 unconquerable, his firmness invincible, his re- 
 sources unbounded ; and long after the conflict 
 had become hopeless in other quarters, he main- 
 tained, in the marshes and forests of Lower La 
 Vendee, a desperate struggle. Such was the 
 terror inspired by his achievements, that when 
 he was at the head of only fourteen followers, 
 the convention offered him a million of francs if 
 he would retire to England ; but he refused the 
 bribe, and preferred, even with that inconsidera- 
 ble band, to wage war with a power to which 
 the kings of Europe were hastening to make 
 submission.! Betrayed at length to his enemies, 
 he met his fate with unshaken firmness, and left 
 the glorious name of being the last and most in- 
 domitable of the Vendean chiefs. 
 
 The troops which these chiefs commanded 
 were divided into three divisions, .pj^^ ^^^^^^^ 
 The first, or the army of Anjou, un- which they 
 der the orders of Bonchamps, com- severally 
 posed of twelve thousand men, was command- 
 destined to combat the Republicans ^ ' 
 from the side of Angers. The second, called 
 the grand army, under the command of D'Elbee, 
 amounted to twenty thousand men, and on im- 
 portant occasions it could be raised to double 
 
 * Jom., iii., 392. Thureau., Mem., 92. Beauch., i., 97. 
 Th., iv., 176. 
 
 t Laroch., 95. Jom., iii., 394. Beauch., i., 95. 
 
 I Th., IV., 175, and viii., 210. Beauch., i., 105, 106. 
 Laroch., 415. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OP^ EUROPE. 
 
 257 
 
 Lhat amount. The third, called the army of the 
 Marais, obeyed the orders of Charetle, and at 
 one time al,><o was raised to twentj' thousand 
 combatanl^. Kcsides tiiese, a corps of twelve 
 thousand m?n was stationed at Montaigut, to 
 observe the garrison of Lucon, and several 
 .smaller bodies, amounting in all to three thou- 
 sand men, k-e])t up the commimi cat ions between 
 these larger corps.* 
 
 The early measures of the convention to crush 
 J, ., ^ j.jp|.^ the insuri'cction were marked by the 
 ofthccooven- bloody Spirit which had so long 
 tioii to exiui- characterized their proceedings. Or- 
 guish the re- j^.^s were despatched, on the lirst in- 
 ^'"'" lelligence of the revolt, to the Re- 
 
 publican soldiers, to exterminate men, women, 
 children, animals, and vegetation. They sent 
 against them the ruthan bands of the Marseillois, 
 who, on their arrival at Bressuire, immediately 
 exclaimed that they must begin by massacring 
 the prisoners; and, surrounding the prison, put 
 to death eleven peasants who had been seized in 
 their beds a few days before on suspicion of 
 being in concert with the insurgents. The fate 
 of these brave men, who were cut down with sa- 
 bres while on their knees praying to God, and 
 exclaiming "Vive le Roi," excited a universal 
 enthusiasm among the inhabitants. " R is pain- 
 ful," said the Republican commissioners, " to be 
 obliged to proceed to extremities ; but they can- 
 not be avoided, from the fanaticism of the peas- 
 ants, who, in no one instance, have been known 
 to betray their landlords. We must cut down 
 the hedges and woods ; decimate the inhabi- 
 tants ; send the remainder into the interior of 
 France ; and repeople the country by colonies 
 of patriots. ''t 
 
 Nor were these atrocities the work merely of 
 the generals in command. By a solemn decree 
 of the convention, they were enjoined to proceed 
 with unheard-of rigour against the insurgents. 
 By this sanguinary law, " all the persons who 
 have taken any share in the revolts are declared 
 Aw.-; deloi, and, in consequence, deprived of trial 
 by jury, and all the privileges accorded by law 
 to accu.sed persons; if taken in arms, they are to 
 be shot within twenty-four hours by a military 
 commission, proceeding on the testimony of a 
 single witness ; those who had any share in the 
 revolt, thougii not taken in arms, shall be sub- 
 jected to the same mode of trial and punishment ; 
 all the priests and nobles, with their families and 
 servants, shall undergo the same punishment ; 
 the pain of death shall in all cases draw after it 
 a confiscation of goods, and the same shall hold 
 with those slain in battle, when the corpse is 
 identified before the criminal judges. "+ 
 
 Tlie Royalists, in no instance in the commence- 
 ment of the w"ar, resorted to any measures of re- 
 taliation, except at Machecoult, where the peas- 
 ants, as already noticed, immediately after the 
 insurrection, and before Charette had succeeded 
 to the command, exercised the most revolting 
 cruelties. These atrocities, to which the armies 
 of La Vendee proper were ev^er a stranger, and 
 which were severely repressed by Charette when 
 he arrived at the command, did incalculable in- 
 jury to the Royalist cause by the horror which 
 it inspired in the neighbouring towns.§ R not 
 only prevented the opulent city of Nantes from 
 joining the insurrection, but produced that obsti- 
 
 * Join., iii., 388. Laroch., 92. Th., iv., 175, 176. 
 
 t Bonch.,22, 71,72, 73. 
 
 I Decree, March 19, 1793. Beauch., i., 367. 
 
 t) Larorh., 481. 
 
 Vol. L— K k 
 
 I nate resistance on the part of its inhabitants to the 
 j attack of Cathelineau, which occasioned the first 
 antl greatest of their reverses. 
 ' But the Republicans soon found that they had 
 
 a more formidable enemy to contend They are 
 : vv-itli than the unarmed prisoners, on defuat'ed at 
 I whom their atrocities at Paris had so Thouars. 
 I long been exercised. The first expedition of im- 
 I portancc undertaken by the Royalists 4th of May, 
 I was against Thouars, which was oc- 1793. 
 cu])ied by General dueteneau, with a division 
 of seven thousand men. A large proportion of 
 the peasants were brought into action for the first 
 time ; but their courage supplied the place both 
 of disc ipline and experience. After a severe fire, 
 the anmiunition of the Royalists began to fail' 
 upon which M. de Lescure seized a lusil from 
 a soldier, descended the heights on which his 
 troops were posted, and calling to the soldiers to 
 follow him, rushed over the bridge which led to 
 the city. A tremendous discharge of grape and 
 musketry deterred even the bravest of his Ibllow- 
 ers, and he stood alone amid the smoke ; he re- 
 turned to his companions, and exhorted them to 
 follow him, and again tried the perilous pass ; but 
 again he stood alone, his clothes riddled with balls. 
 At this moment Henri de Larochejaquelein came 
 up, and, along with Foret and a single peasant, 
 advanced to support their heroic comrade ; all 
 four rushed over the bridge, followed by the sol- 
 diers, who now closely pursued their .steps, as- 
 sailed and carried the barricades, while Bon- 
 champs, v.-ho had discovered a ford at a short 
 distance, destroyed a body of the National Guard 
 who defended it, and drove the Republicans back 
 to the town. Rs ancient walls could not long re- 
 sist the fury of the victois ; Henri de Laroche- 
 jaquelein, by mounting on the shoulders of a sol- 
 dier, reached the top of the rampart, helped up 
 the boldest of his followers, and speedily the town 
 was carried. Six thousand prisoners, twelve 
 cannons, and twenty caissons, fell into the hands 
 of the Royalists. Though strongly inclined to 
 Republican principles, and stained by the massa- 
 cre of the Royalists in the preceding August, the 
 city underwent none of the horrors whichusually 
 await a place taken by assault ; not an inhabitant 
 was maltreated, nor a house pillaged; the peas- 
 ants fiocked to the churches to return thanks to 
 God, and amused themselves with burning the 
 tree of liberty and the papers of the municipality .* 
 Encouraged by this success, the Vendeans ad- 
 vanced against Chataignerie, which was 
 garrisoned by four thousand Republi- ^'•''^^y- 
 cans. By a vigorous attack it w-as carried, 
 and the garrison, after sustaining severe losses, 
 with ditliculty escaped to Fontenay. Thither 
 they were followed by the Royalists ; but the 
 strength of the army melted away during the 
 advance ; great numbers of the peasants returned 
 to cultivate their fields, and place their families 
 in a place of security ; and when the army came 
 in sight of Fontenay, they only mustered ten 
 thousand combatants. With this "force jst^ May 
 they assailed the town; but, though M. sturmmgof 
 de Lescure and Larochejaquelein pen- Ovataigne- 
 etratedintn the suburbs, the Royalists rieandFon- 
 were defeated on other sides, with the '"^^^' 
 loss of twenty-four pieces of cannon, including 
 the celebrated Marie Jeanne, so much the object 
 of their veneration ; and the victorious wing with 
 difiicultv drew oflJ" their artillery from the place.t 
 
 * Jom., iii., 394. Laroch., 108, 112. Bonch., 27, 38. 
 Beauch., i., 161, 163. 
 t Jom., iii., 395. Laroch., 116, 117. Beauch., i., 171, 173. 
 
258 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 This first check spread the deepest dejection 
 through the array ; Marie Jeanne, their lavour- 
 ite cannon, was taken; they had now only .six 
 pieces left ; the ammunition was exhausted ; the 
 soldiers had only a single cartridge remaining for 
 each musket; and they were returning in num- 
 bers to their villages. In this extremity, the 
 lii'mness of the chiefs restored the fortune of the 
 war ; they instantly took their determination ; 
 fell back to Chaiaignerie, spoke cheerfully to the 
 peasants, declared that the reverse was a punish- 
 ment of Heaven for some disorders committed 
 by the troops, and sent orders to the priests iu the 
 interior to send forward, without dela}', all the 
 strength of tiieir parishes.* 
 
 An unexpected incident at this period contrib- 
 uted in a powerful manner to reverse the Roy- 
 Bishop of alist cause. An abbe, who had been 
 A^ra. seized by the Republicans, made his es- 
 cape to the insurgents, declared that he was the 
 Bishop of Agra, and arrived at Chatillon on the 
 Great ef- '^'^ry day of the defeat. The peasants, 
 feet of that overjoyed at having a bishop among 
 incident, them, tlew to rcccive his benediction, 
 and flocked in multitudes, full of confidence, 
 singing psalms and litanies, to rejoin the army. 
 Thirty-five thousand were speedily assembled, 
 and the Royalist leaders lost no time in taking 
 advantage of their enthusiasm to repair the late 
 disaster. Bonchamps commanded the right, 
 Oathelineau the centre, and D'Elbee the left. 
 while Henri Laroehejaquelein led the small bui. I 
 determined band of horsemen. On the following j 
 day they returned to Fontenay, where the Repub- i 
 licans, ten thousand strong, with forty pieces of 
 cannon, were drawn up on the outside of the 
 town to receive them. The Royalist army re- 
 ceived absolution on their knees ; and M. de 
 Lescure addressed them in these words: "Let! 
 us advance, my sons ; we have no powder ; we \ 
 can only retake the cannon with our staffs ; 
 Marie Jeanne must be rescued ; she will be the 
 prize of the swiftest of foot among you." The 
 peasants answered with acclamations ; but when 
 they approached the Republican guns, the sever- 
 ity of the fire made the bravest hesitate. Upon 
 this, M. de Lescure advanced above thirty paces 
 before his men, directly in front of a battery of 
 six pieces, which was discharging grape with 
 the utmost violence, stood there, took off his hat, 
 exclaimed '-Vive le Roi!" and slowly returned 
 Victory over ^° ^^^ troops. His clothes were pier- 
 theRepubli- ced, his spurs can'ied away, his boots 
 cans at Fou- torn, but he himself still unwounded. 
 tenay. u ]yjy friends," said he, " you see the 
 
 Blues do not know how to fire." This decided 
 the peasants ; they rushed forward with rapidity ; 
 but, before they reached the battery, a new inci- 
 dent arrested their course ; they perceived on an 
 eminence a cross, and the whole soldiers in.stant- 
 ly fell on their knees, under the fire of the can- 
 non. An officer wished to raise them : " Allow 
 them," said Lescure, "to pray to God; they will 
 not fight the worse for it." In effect, a moment 
 after, the men sprung up, and rushed forward, 
 armed with staffs and the butt-end of their mus- 
 kets, with such resolution, to the cannon mouths, 
 that the artillerymen deserted them, and fled in 
 confusion towards the town. Meanwhile, M. de 
 Bonchamps, who had skilfully disposed his right 
 wing in an oblique order, pushed forward with 
 his men, and threw in so murderous a fire, at the 
 distance of fifty paces, that on his side also the 
 
 * Laroch., 119. Lac, xi., 26. Beauch., i., 173. 
 
 Republicans gave way, and the victory was 
 complete. The victors and fugitives entered 
 together into the town, headed by Lescure, wlio 
 was the first man within the gates. No sooner 
 was he there than he used all his efforts to save 
 the vanquished, incessantly exclaiming, " Lay 
 down your arms ; quarter to the vanquished." 
 t Forty pieces of cannon, several thousand mus- 
 kets, ammunition and .stores in abundance, re- 
 ; warded this the greatest triumph of the Royalist 
 1 anns, who sustained no serious loss excepting 
 that arising from a wound of Bonchamps, who 
 was shot by a traitor to whom he had just given 
 his life. It was not the least part of their suc- 
 cess, in the estimation of the peasants, that they 
 retook Marie Jeanne, which was rescued from 
 the Republicans by Foret, who with his own 
 hand slew two gensdarmes who guarded it. 
 The enthusiasm excited by the recovery of this 
 favourite piece of artillery was unbounded. 
 Filled with joy, the peasants threw themselves 
 on their knees, embraced their favourite cannon, 
 covered it with branches, flowers, and garlands, 
 and themselves drew it into the market-place in 
 Fontenay, preparatorj' to its removal to a place 
 of security in the Bocage.* 
 
 The Royalists were much perplexed with the 
 course to be pursued with the prisoners, to the 
 number of many thousands, who were now in 
 their hands. To retain them in custody was im- 
 possible, for they had no fortified places; to fol- 
 low the example of the Republicans, and murder 
 them, out of the question. At length it was de- 
 teiTnined to shave their heads, and send them 
 back to the Republicans: a resolution, the exe- 
 cution of which caused no small merriment to 
 the soldiers. After the success at Fontenay, it 
 was proposed to advance to Niort, where all the 
 Republican troops of the neighbourhood were as- 
 sembled; but the peasants returned so rapidly to 
 their homes that it v.-as found to be impossible. 
 In four-and-twenty hours after the capture of the 
 town, three fourths of the army had returned to 
 the Bocage, to recount their exploits to their agi- 
 tated families. It was resolved, therefore, to with- 
 draw from their conquest, which was an inde- 
 fensible post, in the midst of a hostile territory, 
 and in a few days the whole army re-entered the 
 Bocage.t 
 
 Meanwhile, equal success had attended the 
 arms of the Vendeans in other quar- Repeated suc- 
 ters. Cathelineair, Stotflet, and Cha- cesses of the 
 rette had defeated all the Republican Royalists, 
 bodies which attempted to penetrate into the parts 
 of La Vendee where they commanded, and the 
 latter had made himself master of the Isle of 
 Noirmoutier. Successful combats took place at 
 Vetiers, and Done, and Montreuil, which all 
 tended to elevate the spirit of the troops ; and it 
 was at length resolved to unite all their forces 
 for the attack of the important city of Saumur, 
 where the convention, who were now making 
 the most vigorous eflbrts to check the insurrec- 
 tion, had collected twenty-two thousand regular 
 troops, besides a great number of National 
 Guards.? 
 
 The Royalist army, foity thousand strong, ap- 
 proached Saumur on the 10th of June. The 
 Republican army had taken post in a fortified 
 camp which surrounded the town. Their left 
 
 * Laroch., 122, 123, 125. Bonch., 33, 35. Lac, xji., 88. 
 29. Beauch., i., 175, 178, 179. 
 
 t Beauch.,!., 195, 19G. Laroch., 127. 
 
 t Lac, lii., 30, 31. Jom., iii., 398. Beauch., i., 197, 
 228, 232. 
 
17S3.J 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 259 
 
 rested on the heights in front of the old castle, 
 their right on St. Florent, while formidable bat- 
 teries lined all the intermediate space between 
 iliese points. Fieldworks had been thrown up, 
 and in many places redoubts completed, to 
 strengthen their intrenched camp, which covered 
 the whole space running through the heights from 
 the broad and deep stream of the Thouet to the 
 hanks of the Loire. Sixteen thousand men, and 
 nearlj' one hundred pieces of cannon, were as- 
 sembled in that important post, which command- 
 ed one of the chief passages over that great 
 river.* 
 
 ^Vhi]e tlie chiefs were deliberating alrout the 
 best mode of attacking this formidable camp, the 
 Vendeans, of their own accord, engaged in the 
 attack. Such was the ardour of the troops, in 
 consequence of some successful skinnishes in 
 which the advanced guard was engaged, that the 
 whole army precipitated itself upon the town 
 without waiting for the command of their lead- 
 ers. This tumultuous assault, withoitt any or- 
 ders, was little calculated to ensure success; M. 
 de Lescure was wounded; the sight of his blood, 
 whom they believed invulnerable, shook the 
 courage of the soldiers, and a charge of cuiras- 
 siers completed their disorder. The peasants, 
 June 10. seeing that (heir balls could not pierce 
 Their great these Steel-clad enemies, tied in con- 
 victoiyat fusion, and were only rallied by M. 
 .Sauiaur. ^jg Lescurc behind some overturned 
 wagons, which formed a barricade in the line 
 of their flight. The Royalist leaders, as well as 
 the confusion would admit, now took measures 
 to attack in regular form. Stofflet and Cathe- 
 lineau directed their forces against the heights, 
 and made a feint against the castle, while Les- 
 cure put himself at the head of the left wing, to 
 ;issault the bridge of Fouchard and turn the re- 
 doubts of Boumau, and Henri de Larochejaque- 
 lein marched with his division towards the mead- 
 ows of Varrins, to storm on that side the in- 
 trenched camp. While Lescure was rallying 
 Ids men behind the wagons, Henri de Laroche- 
 jaquelein assailed the Republican camp on the 
 other side, Avhere it was protected by a rampart 
 and ditch. Finding that the soldiers' hesitated to 
 cross the fosse, he took off his hat, threw it into 
 the ditch, and exclaiming, " Who will get it for 
 me 7" plunged in himself, and was thie first to 
 seize it, followed by the soldiers, who now broke 
 through in great numbers, escaladed the rampart, 
 and entered the town. Followed by sixty foot- 
 soldiers, he traversed the streets, crossed the 
 bridges of the Loire, planted cannon on them to 
 prevent the return of the Republicans, and pur- 
 sued them for a considerable distance on the road 
 to Tours. General Coustard, who commanded 
 the Republicans on the heights of Bournan, was 
 now cut off from all cornmunicalion with the 
 remainder of the army, and he took the bold reso- 
 lution to enter Saumur, taking the victorious 
 Royalists in rear. For this purpose it was neces- 
 sary to cross the bridge, where the Vendeans had 
 established a batterv, which commanded the pas- 
 sage. Coustard ordered a regiment of cuirassiers, 
 supported by the volunteers of Orleans, to storm 
 the battery. " Where are you sending us ?" said 
 the soldiers. " To death," replied Coustard ; " the 
 safety of the Republic requires it." The brave 
 cuirassiers charged at the gallop and earned the 
 guns; but the Orleans volunteers disbanded un- 
 der the fire, and they were forced to relinquish 
 
 * Beauch., i., 198, 199. 
 
 them to the Royalists. While these adA'antages 
 were gained on their side, M. de Lescure had 
 succeeded in rallying his soldiers, w!io, by failing 
 on their faces when the artillery was discharged, 
 succeeded in capturing the redoubts opposed to 
 them, while Stufilet broke into the town and com ■ 
 pleted the victory.* 
 
 The trophies of the Vendeans in this great 
 victory, by far more important than any yet gain- 
 ed over the Republicans by the allied sovereigns, 
 were eighty pieces of cannon, ten thousand mu.s- 
 kets, and eleven thousand prisoners, with the loss 
 only of sixty men killed and four hundred wound- 
 ed. On tlic following day the castle sunendered, 
 with fourteen hundred men, and all the artillery 
 which it contained, and gave them the cominand 
 of both banks of the Loire. The Royalists shaved 
 the heads of their prisoners, and sent them back 
 to the Republicans on no other condition than 
 that of not again serving against La Vendee : an 
 illusory condition, speedily violated by the bad 
 faith of their antagonists. This humanity was 
 the more reraarkable,T as at this period the Re- 
 publicans had already commenced their inhuman 
 system of massacring their prisoners, and all 
 taken in arms against the convention. 
 
 After the capture of Saumur, the opinion of 
 the council of generals was divided cathelineau 
 as to the course which they should created com- 
 pursue ; but at length the}' were de- mander-in- 
 termined by the consideration of the "^^'"^^• 
 great advantages of the possession of Nantes, 
 which would open up a coinmtinication with 
 England, and serve as a depot and base for future 
 operations up the course of the Loire, and, rn 
 consequence, it was resolved to adopt this plan. 
 This resolution, in the end, proved fatal to the 
 Royalist cause, by turning their grand army from 
 the road to Paris, where it might have arrived, 
 and stifled the Reign of Blood in its cradle, in 
 the first moments of alarm following the takiii^^ 
 of Saumur; but it, nevertheless, was ably con- 
 ceived, in a military point of view, as it was evi- 
 dent that the course of the Loire formed the line 
 of the Royalist operations, and that Nantes wa'* 
 indispensable to their security. The day after 
 the battle, M. Bouchamps arrived with his di- 
 vision, live thousand strong, while two noble 
 young men, Charles Beaumont d'Autichamp 
 and the Prince of Talmont, also joined the Roy- 
 alist cause; at the same time, the supreme com- 
 mand was given by the council of generals to the 
 peasant Cathelineau : a striking proof of the 
 disinterested magnanimity which distinguished 
 the noble chiefs of the arm}-, v.hile, bj,' a strange 
 contrast, Biron, a peer of France and .son of a 
 marshal, led the Republican forces.; 
 
 M. Bouchamps, who was gifted with the true 
 militar}' genius, strongly urged a descent into 
 Brittany, to obtain a communication with the 
 ocean, and thereafter an immediate advance to 
 Paris ; and, if this plan could have been adopted, 
 it might have led to incalculable results. But 
 the other leaders, though brave and able men, 
 were not equally penetrated witli the necessity 
 of striking at the decisive moment at the heari: 
 of their enemies; and, besides, great difficulty 
 was anticipated in prevailing on the peasants to 
 undertake so distant an expedition, or believe 
 that anything could be required of them beyond 
 
 * Lac, xii., 31, 32. Jor.i., lii., 396. Laroch., 137, 133, 
 141. Th., v., 50. Beauch., i., 2(14. 208. 
 
 t Laroch., 141. Lac, iii., 32, 33. 
 
 t Lac, xii., 125. Beauch., i., 210-212,215, 219. Th., T., 
 50. Jom., iii., 397, 399. 
 
260 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 the sight of their beloved Bocage. It was re- 
 solved, therefoi-e, to descend the Loire to Nantes, 
 in order to seeiue a firm looting on the seacoast, 
 and open a communication with England; alter 
 which, it was thought, more distant operations 
 might with more safety be attempted.* 
 
 A garrison having been left in Saumur to 
 The Ilovalists "laJJitain the passage of the Loire, 
 defeated 111 the grand arm_v- under C-'athelineau, 
 ttieir attempt alter Occupying Angers, which was 
 on Nautes. hastily abandoned by the Republi- 
 cans, advanced towards Nantes, by the right bank 
 of the river, while Charette, who had twenty 
 thousand men under his command, was invited 
 to co-operate in the attempt on the left. During 
 the march, however, the ardour of the peasants 
 Avas sensibly diminished; they had been long 
 absent from home, and lamented the interruption 
 of their agricultural labours ; nor could anything 
 persuade them that, after having gained so many 
 victories, it was necessaiy to attempt the reduc- 
 tion of so distant a place as Nantes. Great num- 
 bers left their colours and returned to their fields ; 
 and when the main array approached that city, it 
 hardly amounted to ten thousand combatants. 
 The hour of attack v.'as fixed at two o'clock on 
 29th June ^'^"^ morning of the 29th of June; and 
 Charette, on his side, commenced the 
 assault at that hour; but the army of Catheli- 
 neau having been detained ten hours before the 
 little town of Niort, did not arrive till ten. They 
 were there arrested by a i'cw hundred of the Na- 
 tional Guard, who fought with heroic valour. 
 Notwithstanding this delay, the united forces 
 commenced the attack with great vigour, and 
 Cathelineau had actually penetrated, at the head 
 of the bravest of the troo'ps, into the town, when 
 on the place Viarmis he Avas severely wounded 
 by a ball in the breast. The peasants, in de- 
 .spair, carried him out of the town, and abandon- 
 ed all the advantages they had gained ; and al- 
 though the combat continued for eighteen hours, 
 the want of a leader rendered the courage of the 
 soldiers of no avail, and the enterprise failed.t 
 
 This check proved extremely prejudicial to the 
 Vendean cause. The army was dissolved in an 
 instant. The brave Cathelineau was disabled 
 by his wound; officers, soldiers, hastily threw 
 themselves into boats and recrossed the Loire ; 
 the right bank was entirely deserted, and the 
 men, in groups of twenty 'or thirty, straggled 
 homeward. After an interval of a fortnight, 
 Cathelineau expired of his wound, to the inex- 
 pressible regret of both the chiefs and soldiers, 
 and carried with him to the grave the best hopes 
 July 14 °^ ''^^ re-establishment of the Royalist 
 ■ cause. The death of the commander 
 was announced by a peasant to the anxious 
 group who surrounded the house where he 
 breathed his last in these simple words : " The 
 good Cathelineau has restored his spirit to Him 
 who gave it, to avenge his glory.": 
 
 While these events were in progress on the 
 side of Nantes, a formidable invasion by disci- 
 plined troops and able generals was defeated in 
 the Bocage. Westerman, the celebrated chief 
 of the insurgents on the 10th of August, having 
 organized what he called a German Legion, 
 from soldiers trained in the regular wars on the 
 Rhenish frontier, and entertaining the most su- 
 preme contempt for the insurgents, penetrated, 
 
 * Th., v., 66, 67. 
 t Lac, xii., 127. 
 Beauch., i., 238-248. 
 t Laroch., 15(i. 174, 
 
 Laroch., 153, 155. Th., v., 69, 70. 
 Beauch., i.. 252. 253. 
 
 during: the absence of the grand army of the 
 Royalists at Nantes, into tlie heart of La Ven- 
 dee. He made himself master, in the first in- 
 stance, of Parthcnay and Amaillou, which he re- 
 duced to ashes, and burned Clisson, the chateau 
 of M. de Lescure. The leaders fled to 
 (Jhatillon, Avhere the Supreme Royalist '^^ ^"• 
 Council was assembled ; hut this last refuge wa.s 
 soon after invaded by Westerman, who 
 Inirned to the ground the castle of La Dar- ■^"'^' ^^ 
 belliere, the domain of M. de Larochejaquelein. 
 But here terminated the success of this rash en- 
 terprise. M. de Lescure had apprized the other 
 chiefs of the danger, who were now advancing 
 by forced marches to his aid. Stotilet and Bon- 
 champs arrived with their divisions, while the 
 tocsin roused the inhabitants of the surrounding 
 parishes ; and an able attack directed by Les- 
 cure, who was perfectly acquainted with the 
 country, proved completely successful. In little 
 more than an hour two thirds of Westerman's 
 army were destroyed, and the fugitives who es- 
 caped owed their salvation to the very general 
 whose chateau they had just burned. Wester- 
 man, Avith the utmost difficulty, escaped out of 
 the Bocage Avith a few followers, and was in the 
 end sent to the Revolutionary Tribunal, and per- 
 ished on the scaffold.* 
 
 After Cathelineau's death, M. d'Elbeewas ap- 
 pointed generalissimo, and the utmost eflbrts of 
 all the chiefs exerted to reassemble the anny. 
 Such A\'as the disinterestedness of the other 
 leaders, that Bonchamps, qualified aboAT all 
 others for the situation, made his own oihcers 
 A^ote for his rival. Meanwhile Biron, having 
 collected fifty thousand troops, commenced a 
 regular iuA'asion of the Bocage in four diA'isions, 
 extending from the Loire to the Sevre. This in- 
 A'^asion was at first attended A\ith success: the 
 Royalists, Avith twenty-fiA'e thousand men, at- 
 tacked General Labarolliere, Avho, Avith 
 fifteen thousand, was established at Mar- "^' 
 tigne Briand ; but, after an obstinate engagement, 
 they Avere defeated, and retired to Coron. Thith- 
 er they Ai-ere pursued by Santerre, Avho deemeil 
 himself now secure of conquest : but a dreadful 
 reverse awaited them. The tocsin Avas sounded 
 in all the parishes ; the curate of St. Laud, AA^ho 
 eminently distinguished himself in the Avar, col- 
 lected all the forces of the neighbouring 
 districts; and on the 17th the Republi- ^^ ' 
 cans Avere attacked Avhile marching in column 
 on the high-road, in front and llank at the same 
 time, and driven back in the utmost disorder to- 
 wards Saumur and Chinoni, with the loss often 
 thousand men, and all their artillery, baggage, 
 and ammunition. t 
 
 Soon after, M. d'Elbee, Avith Charette, attack- 
 ed a corps of fifteen thousand men at 
 Lucon ; but, although success at first at- "-• '^■ 
 tended the Royalists, they were ultimately de- 
 feated, Avith the loss of fifteen hundred men and 
 eighteen pieces of cannon ; the greatest disaster 
 experienced since the commencement of the war. 
 It Avas chiefly owing to having folloAved, on M. 
 Lescure's advice, a plan of attack which, thougli 
 admirably adapted for regular troops, Avas not 
 suited to the desultory and impetuous mode of 
 Avarfare adopted by the peasantrj-. The whole 
 artillery of the Royalists Avould have fallen into 
 the hands of the Republicans had not Laroche- 
 jaquelein, at the head of sixty of the bravest of 
 
 ♦ Th., v., 121, 122. Beauch., i., 257-264. 
 
 t Jom , 111., 400, 401. Beauch., i., 278, 288, 297. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 261 
 
 Ids followers, by prodigies of valour arrested the 
 pursuit at the bridge ofDissay.* 
 
 Encouraged by this success, the armies of the 
 General inva- convention, now greatly re-enforced 
 sionof theUo- by the eflbrts ol the government, on 
 cage on ull ail sides invaded the Bocage. San- 
 ''"'•'^- terrc, fatally celebrated in tlic Rev- 
 
 olution, a<lvanced at the head of powerful bodies 
 of regular soldiers; Chantonnay was occupied, 
 aiid the country, wherever they penetrated, de- 
 vastated witli lire and sword: even the farm- 
 houses and the mills were consumed, in obedi- 
 ence to the orders of the convention. But a se- 
 vere retribution awaited them. The Royalists 
 sounded tlie tocsin in all the parishes, and, hav- 
 ing reassembled the peasants, made a combined 
 and skilful attack on the Republican force, seven 
 thousand strong, in the neignbourhood of Chan- 
 tonnay. It proved completely successful, 
 '"^ ■ ■ chiefly in consequence of the valour of the 
 dinsion ofBonchamps, which, not having shared 
 in the preceding rever.ses, had preserved all its 
 wonted enthusiasm ; the Republicans were rout- 
 ed, with the loss of all their artillery and baggage ; 
 and such was the carnage, that scarce eighteen 
 Imndred could be reassembled after the battle, 
 and Santerre himself narrowly escaped falling 
 into the hands of the enemy .t At the same 
 time, Charette maintained an obstinate contest 
 in Lower Vendee; and, though frequently de- 
 feated, never suflered himself to be discouraged 
 by his reverses, and destroyed several Republi- 
 can columns that endeavoured to penetrate into 
 his district. 
 
 But the convention, which was at last waken- 
 Amval of ed to a full .sense of the danger of the 
 ihe garrison war, were now collecting forces on 
 of Mayence. all sides to crush the insurgents. 
 The garrison of Mayence, fourteen thousand 
 strong, commanded by Kleber, and which the 
 allies, with culpable negligence, had not made 
 prisoners of war, and only bound not to combat 
 the allies for a year, was despatched by post to 
 Llie scene of action ; and great part of the garri- 
 sons of Valenciennes and Conde, which had been 
 restored on the same condition, soon followed in 
 the same direction. Not only the National 
 Guards, but the lev.t.c en masse of the neighbour- 
 ing departments, were assembled; and before 
 the middle of September, upward of 200,000 
 men surrounded La Vendee on all sides, and by 
 a simultaneous advance, threatened to crush its 
 i^evolt. To oppose this formidable invasion, the 
 Royalists were divided into four divisions, that 
 in the neighbourhood of Nantes under the com- 
 mand of Charette, that on the banks of the Loire 
 under Bonchamps ; M. de Larochejaquelein 
 in Anjou, and M. de Lescure in Eastern Poi- 
 tou, while D'Elbee retained the supreme com- 
 mand.! 
 
 The plan which Bonchamps strenuously rec- 
 Aiile (lesion ommended, and which bears the 
 ofBonchamps, marks of great military genius, was 
 which IS not to allow the enemy to penetrate, in 
 adopted. detached colutmis,mto the Bocage; 
 
 to overwhelm them successively by a junction 
 of the Royalist forces in that district, who occu- 
 pied a central position, and to take advantage of 
 the first moment of alarm, cross the Loire, rouse 
 the Royalist population of Brittany, and nourish 
 
 * Laroch.,i., 194. Jom., iv., 290. 
 
 t .lorn., iii., 247, 402. Laroch., 195. Beauch., ii ,7. Lae., 
 lii., 129. 
 
 t .lorn., ill.. 300. Larorh., 197, 200. Beauch., ii., 21, and 
 i., 313. 
 
 tlie war from the resources of an hitherto lui^ 
 touched country. "What fortunate accident," 
 said he, " has made us acquainted with the de- 
 signs of the enemy 1 In it 1 .see clearly the hand 
 ot God lor the safety of La Vendee. The Re- 
 publicans have at length discovered the secret of 
 our victories: they wish to concentrate their for- 
 ces to overwhelm us by tlieir mass. We mav 
 indeed, repulse the army of Mayence; but wiirit 
 not return to the charge with accumulated num- 
 bers and resi.stless force? Let us, then, antici- 
 pate the enemy. Brittany calls us : let us march 
 and extend our destinies. Let us no longer be 
 deceived by the hope that the coalesced powers 
 will restore the monarchy ; that glory is reserveil 
 for us alone. Masters of a harbour on the ocean, 
 we will find the princes royal at our head, and 
 we will at length acquire that political consist- 
 ence,* without which we caimot hope for durable 
 success." D'Elbee condxited the latter part of 
 the project as too hazardous in the inegular 
 state of the army ; and, after a long discussion, 
 it was resolved to remain on the delensive in La 
 Vendee. 
 
 It was the army of Charette which first found 
 itself assailed by the immense forces Defeat of the 
 of the Republicans. The Vendeans Repuhlicani 
 were there attacked by the redoubta- "!• Torfou. 
 ble garrison of Mayence, which crossed the 
 Loire, and invaded the country on the 10th of 
 September. The Royalists were defeated in sev- 
 eral encounters, and driven back by this inva- 
 sion. Bonchamps Vv'as defeated near the rocks 
 of Erigny, while Le.scure experienced a check at 
 Thouars, and the whole Lower Poitou was wast- 
 ed with tire and sword, notwithstanding the ut- 
 most exertions of Charette. The successive re-' 
 treat of the.se columns, however, brought the 
 R.oyalist forces nearer each other, and a simul- 
 taneous eflbrt was made by all their forces. 
 D'Elbee and Bonchamps, who had now recov- 
 ered from his wound, having united thirty thou- 
 sand men, and the array having received the 
 benediction of the curate of St. Laud, and heard 
 high mass at midnight, they attacked the Repub- 
 licans at daybreak on the i9th of Sep- 
 tember, the Royalists were forty '"• 
 thou.sand strong; the Republicans somewhat less 
 numerous, but they embraced the garrison of 
 Mayence, tlie best soldiers in France. All the 
 chiefs felt that this invasion must, at all hazards, 
 be repelled, and that the moment had arrived 
 when they must conquer or die. Charette, cer- 
 tain of the co-operation of the other generals, had 
 arranged his forces in order of battle, blocking 
 up the road to Tortou. His defeated and dis- 
 couraged troops, however, could not long with- 
 stand the shock of the veterans of Kleber ; they 
 were broken, and falling into confusion, when 
 M. de Lescure, seeing affairs wellnigh desperate, 
 exclaimed, "Are there not four hundred men 
 brave enough to die with me ]" The peasants 
 of the parish of Echaubroignies, seventeen hun- 
 dred strong, answered him with shouts, and this 
 feeble division with.stood the shock of the Repub- 
 lican forces for two hours, till the division of 
 Bonchamps arrived. This re-enforcement .speed- 
 ily changed the face of ati'airs; the peasants, di.«- 
 persed in single file behind the hedges which en- 
 veloped the Republicans, kept up a murderous 
 fire on everj' side ; the cannon were carried by 
 assault, and the whole army thrown into confu- 
 sion. Nothing but the heroic devotion of Colonel 
 
 * Jom., IV., 300. Beauch., ii., 26, 27. Laroch., 199. 
 
262 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 Chouardin and his regiment, who maintained the 
 bridge of Boussay, and suffered themselves to be 
 wholly destroyed before they abandoned it, pre- 
 served the invading army from total destruction.* 
 Still the Royalists had not a moment to lose ; 
 it was indispensable to attack immediately the 
 corps of General Beysser, which was on the 
 point of efiecting a jimction with the forces of 
 
 Sept. 20. 
 
 Kleber. On the day after their victory at 
 
 Sept. '. 
 
 Torfbu, they surprised him atMontaigiit, 
 and routed the Republicans entirely, with the 
 loss of all their artillery, baggage, and ammuni- 
 tion. This was followed by the surprise and to- 
 tal defeat of General Mukinski at St. Fulgent, 
 by Charette and Lescure, Avhile, on the 
 very same day, Bonchamps and D'Elbee 
 assailed the retreating columns of General Kle- 
 ber, encumbered with twelve hiuidred chariots, 
 and, after throwing them into confusion, captured 
 a large portion of their baggage ; but this suc- 
 cess, though considerable, was nothing to what 
 would have been obtained had the whole Royal- 
 ist forces been united, as they should have been, 
 against the formidable bands of Mayence.t 
 
 In other quarters the Vendeans were equal- 
 Sept. 15. De- h' successful. General Rossignol, 
 feat of General with fifteen thousand men, indeed, 
 Rossignol at defeatedaniU-concerted attack of the 
 Coroii. Royalist chiefs Talraont and Auti- 
 
 champ ; but having, after this success, advanced 
 with Santerre to Coron, he was there attacked by 
 Piron and Larochejaquelein, who had succeeded 
 in rousing all the population in the neighbour- 
 ing parishes ; and with such skill were the 
 Royalist operations conducted, that the Repub- 
 lican army was pierced in the centre and entire- 
 ly dispersed, twenty-four pieces of cannon, and 
 all their ammunition taken. Immediately after 
 J, ,g this success, a detachment of the Royalist 
 •-"P ■ • fQjces were despatched against General 
 Duhoux, who had crossed the bridge of Ce, and 
 was driving the Vendean detachments before 
 him; but no sooner had he arrived at the heights 
 of St. Lambert, than he was assailed by the bulk 
 of the Royalist forces, while Bernier, a farmer's 
 servant in the parish of St. Lambert, swam 
 across the river, and attacked them in rear with 
 the armed peasants in his vicinity. The rout 
 soon was complete ; all the artilleiy of the in^'a- 
 ders was taken, and their column, nine thousand 
 strong, totally destroyed. Such was the ten-or 
 produced by these defeats, that the kvee en masse 
 assembled between Tours and Poitiers dispersed 
 without striking a blow, and the regular forces 
 of the Republicans, on all sides, quitted the Ven- 
 dean territory .t 
 
 Thus, by a series of most brilliant militaiT 
 Oenerni defeat Combinations, seconded by the most 
 of the RepubU- heroic exertions on the ])art of the 
 can invasion, peasants, was the invasion of six ar- 
 mies, amounting to 100,000 regular troops, part 
 of whom were the best soldiers of France, de- 
 feated, and losses inflicted on the Republicans 
 incomparably greater than they had suftered from 
 all the allies put together since the commence- 
 ment of the war: a striking proof of the admira- 
 ble skill with which their chiefs had availed 
 themselves of their central position and peculiar 
 mode of fighting to crush the invading forces, and 
 
 * Join., iv., 302, 303. Larocti., 213, 214. Beauch., ii., 
 34-41. I 
 
 I- Laroch., 215, 217. Jom., iv., 303, 304. Beauch., ii., 
 42-44. 
 
 X -lom., iv., 304-307. Laroch., 202-210. Beauch., ii., 
 2S-32. I 
 
 a memorable instance of what can be effected by 
 resolute men, even without the advantages of 
 regular organization, if ably conducted, against 
 the most formidable superiority of military force. 
 
 But the Vendeans had to contend with a re- 
 doubtable adversary, and, unfortu- v,„oroascx- 
 nately, the invading army, from ertionsofthe 
 which most was to be apprehended, government Jt 
 was that which had sulfered least ^"'^■ 
 from their attacks. The convention made the 
 most vigorous efforts to meet the danger. Ba- 
 rere, in a report to the convention, declared, " The 
 inexplicable La Vendee still exists ; twenty times 
 since this rebellion broke out have your repre- 
 sentatives, your generals, the committee itself, 
 declared that it was stifled, and yet it exists more 
 Ibrmidable than ever. Wc thought we could de- 
 stroy it ; the tocsin sounded in all the neighbom- 
 ing departments ; a prodigious number of amied 
 citizezis were assembled to crush the insurrec- 
 tion ; and a sudden panic has dissolved the whole 
 like a cloud. You must change your sy.stera; 
 one despotic chief must head your armies; a 
 term must be put to the existence of the brig- 
 ands. Like the giant in the fable, which was no 
 longer invincible but when he touched the earth, 
 3'ou must sever them from their native soil be- 
 fore you can destroy them." In pursuance of 
 this suggestion, General Lechelle was appoint- 
 ed generalissimo ; the Brest fleet was ordered to 
 sail to co-operate with the armies ; and a proc- 
 lamation was addressed to the troops, enjoining 
 them to exterminate the Vendeans before the 20th 
 of October.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the peasants, as usual, seeing the 
 present danger over, returned to their homes; 
 the standards of the generals were almost deseil- 
 ed. Te Deum Avas sung in all the parishes, amid 
 the joyful acclamations of the inhabitants. M. 
 de Lescure, at the ceremony in his own parish 
 church, knelt behind a cokunn to withdraw him- 
 self from the admiring gaze of his countrymen. 
 On learning the massacres which the Republi- 
 cans were making of their countrymen M-ho had 
 been made prisoners, and which were command- 
 ed by the decrees of the convention, forbidding 
 them to give quarter, the Royalist soldiers loud- 
 ly demanded reprisals upon the numerous cap- 
 tives who were in their hands; but the leaders 
 expressed such horror at the proposal, that they 
 alwa)'S succeeded in preventing it from being 
 carried into effect. The formidable bands of 
 Mayence, at this time, were so much disgusted 
 with the savage proceedings of the convention, 
 that they ottered, if their pay was guarantied, to 
 join themselves in a body to the Royalist cause ; 
 but the large sum required for this purpose, 
 amounting to 400,000 francs, joined to the suspi- 
 cions of the Royalists that some treacheiy was 
 intended, rendered a design abortive, which, if 
 executed, would have given a decisive preponder- 
 ance to the Vendean forces.t 
 
 Unfortunately, at this time, when their enemies 
 were concentrating under one able Ruinous di- 
 hand the whole of the Vendean war, visions of the 
 the Royalist chiefs, divided about the Realists, 
 points to which their forces should be directed, 
 separated their troops, Charette drawing ofi" to- 
 wards the island of Noirmoutiers, while Lescure 
 and Beaurepaire took post near Chatillon, to 
 make head against Westerman, who was advan- 
 cing with a powerful ibrce, massacring, without 
 distinction, all the inhabitants, and burning eve- 
 
 * Jom., iv., 308, 309. Beauch., ii., 56, .57. Laroch., 218. 
 t Beauch., ii., 50-52, 66. Laroch., 218, 219. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OP EUROPE. 
 
 263 
 
 r}' edifice that his soldiers could reach. Lescure, 
 Stofflet, and Larochejaquelein, united, had only 
 .six thousand men at iVIoulin and CJievres, a lit- 
 tle in liont of'Chatillon, where tliey were attack- 
 ed by a cohnnn of twenly-five thousand Repub- 
 licans under Westerman ; the superiority of his 
 force was such, that he drove them into the town, 
 which was s]ieedily captured by his Ibr- 
 Octobcr/. ^^^. i3ut their success was of short du- 
 ration ; Bonchamps and Larochejaquelein hav- 
 ing roused the peasantry, and reassembled the 
 whole grand army, two days after made a gen- 
 eral attack upon the Repulilicans, totallj^ de- 
 feated them, and drove them out of Chatillon, 
 with tlie loss of above ten thousand men and all 
 rheir artillery. During the rout, Westerman, 
 who saw thai the Royalists in Chatillon were al- 
 most all drunk, and kept no lookout, conceived 
 the bold design of re-entering the town, and cut- 
 ting to pieces its garrison. This project was 
 completely successful. Taking a hundred in- 
 trepid hussars, with a grenadier mounted behind 
 each man, he returned at midnight to 
 October 12. Chatillon, Avhcre the Vend^ans, as usu- 
 al, had placed no sentinels, broke into the streets, 
 cut down great numbers of the Royalists, who, 
 between sleep and intoxication, were incapable 
 of making any resistance, set fire to the town, 
 and, after a scene of unequalled horror and blood, 
 withdrew before daylight in the morning.* 
 
 Hardly was this invasion repulsed, when the 
 Fresh invasion Vendeaus were called on to make 
 by the Repub- head against a more formidable en- 
 licans. eray in another quarter. The re- 
 
 doubtable bands of MaA'ence, re-enforced by sev- 
 eral other divisions, in all forty thousand strong, 
 were advancing into the very heart of the coun- 
 tiy, and had already nearly reached Cholet, while 
 the unhappy divisions of the Vendean chiefs de- 
 tained in other quarters a large proportion of 
 their forces. Notwithstanding the most 
 '^ ° *"^ ■ urgent representations from the other 
 leaders, Charette persisted in his system of sep- 
 arate operations, and wasted his force in a fruit- 
 less expedition to the isle of Noirmoutiers. Les- 
 cure and Bonchamps, however, hastened to 
 support M. de Royrand, who was flying before 
 the invaders. It was arranged that the former 
 should await the enemy in front, while the latter 
 should, by a circuitous route, assail them in 
 flank. But the R,epublicans having advanced 
 more slowly than was expected, Lescure came 
 up with them before Bonchamps was ready to 
 support him, and though they yielded in the first 
 instance to the furious attack of the Vendeans, 
 Royalists de- .^^^ ''""^ inferiority of their force, and 
 feared, and M. a desperate charge in flank made by 
 de Lescure Beaupuy when disordered by suc- 
 cess, threw them into confusion, and 
 they fell back to Beaupreau, while 
 the Republicans bivouacked on the field of bat- 
 tle. The next daj' the victorious armj^ entered 
 Cholet, which the discouraged Vendeans could 
 not be prevailed on to defend. The Royalist loss 
 was not severe; but thev sustained an irrepara- 
 ble misfortune in a wound of M. Lescure, -who 
 was shot through the head when leading on his 
 men, as usual, at the commencement of the ac- 
 tion. The wound proved mortal after several 
 weeks of suffering, which he endured with the 
 heroism and sweetness of his character.t 
 
 The Ve ndeans were cruelly discouraged by 
 
 * Jom., iv., 312, 313. Laroch., 221, 227-229. Beauch., 
 ii., 58, 61, 73-T5. 
 t Jom.jiv., 314. Laroch., 229, 230. Beaueh.,ii., 75, 78-83. 
 
 mortally 
 wounded. 
 
 this disaster; the more so, as the enemy's col- 
 umns had now penetrated the country in every 
 direction, and the ravages they had committed 
 gave no hope of maintaining the contest longei; 
 in their native land. It was resolved, therefore, 
 to cross the Loire, and carry the war into Brit- 
 tany ; but, previous to this, it was deemed advi- 
 sable by all the chiefs to make one desperate ef- 
 fort to crusli the invading force in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Cholet. The action took place 
 two days after, and was contested with the utmost 
 fury on both sides. The Ibrces were nearly 
 equal, the Royalists having forty thousand men, 
 and the Republicans Ibrty-one thousand ; but 
 the latter were greatly superior in their artillery, 
 which consisted of thirty pieces, and cavalry, 
 which amounted to three thousand, and the in- 
 fantry included the best troops in France.* The 
 combat was felt on both sides to be what in ef- 
 fect proved decisive of the fate of the war. 
 
 At three in the morning on the seventeenth of 
 October, the sound of artillery awa- „ f,,. 
 kened the armj-, and the soldiers feu Oct. 17." 
 hastened to hear grand mass from 
 the curate of the village where the headquarters- 
 were placed. The ceremony was performed by 
 torchlight; the priest, in fervid and eloquent 
 terms, besought them to combat courageously 
 for their God, their king, and their children, and 
 concluded b)' giving absolution to the armed 
 multitude. The darkness of the scene, and the 
 discharges of cannon which interrupted his dis- 
 course, filled all hearts with a gloomy presenti- 
 ment of the disasters which were about to fol- 
 low. The Republicans were drawn up in three 
 divisions, the garrison of Mayence, with the 
 cavalry, forming the reserve. On the Royalist 
 side, Stofflet commanded the left, D'Elbee and 
 Bonchamps the centre, and Larochejaquelein 
 the right.t 
 
 The action commenced at ten o'clock. On 
 this occasion the Vendeans marched for the first 
 time in close column, like troops of the line, but 
 they had no artillery. Henri de Larochejaque- 
 lein and Stofflet, after a short exchange of bul- 
 lets, precipitated themselves on the centre of the 
 enemy, routed it by the vehemence of their at- 
 tack, and drove it back in disorder into the town 
 of Cholet, where the great park of artillery was 
 captured. The battle seemed to be lost, and the 
 Reptiblicans, panic-struck by the furious onset 
 of their enemies, were flv'ing on all sides, when 
 Lechelle, as a last resource, ordered his cavalry 
 to charge, and the reserve, composed of the gar- 
 rison of Mayence, to advance. The charge of 
 horse took place from right to left through the 
 whole Royalist army, now disordered by the 
 rapidity of their attack, and at the same time 
 the iron bands of Mayence emerged through the 
 fugitives, and checked the pursuit of the victors. 
 In an instant the face of the action „ . ,. 
 was changed; the Vendeans, seized feateV,*and*' 
 with a sudden panic, fled on all sides, D'Elh^e and 
 and the exultation of victorv was Bonchamps 
 succeeded by the terrors of defeat, ^oy^jg^ 
 In this extremity, Henri de Laroche- 
 jaquelein, D'Elbee, and Bonchamps collected 
 two hundred of the bravest of their troops, and, 
 by their heroic re.sistance, not only gave time to 
 the Royalists to escape, but drove back the vic- 
 torious squadrons of the enemy; but their val- 
 our proved fatal to the two latter, who were mor- 
 
 * Jom., iv., 315. Beaurh., ii., 84, 85. Lac, xi., 137. 
 t Jom., iv., 316. Beauch., ii., 85-87. Laroch., 232. 
 
264 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. Xn. 
 
 tally wounded in the middle of the charge. La- 
 rochejaquelein, with great diflicully, collected live 
 thousand men, with which he carried oil' the 
 wounded remains of his gallant comrades to 
 iieaupreau, where they passed the night; while 
 the remainder of the army fled towards the Loire, 
 and without any orders commenced the passage 
 of the river.* 
 
 This defeat proved highly injurious to the 
 Vendean cause, not only by the confusion and 
 depression which it had occasioned among the 
 troops, but the irreparable loss which they sus- 
 tained in the two most distinguished of their 
 generals. The gallant Bonchamps was carried 
 by his weeping soldiers to St. Florent, where 
 the Vendeans, worked up to madness by the 
 conflagration of all their towns and the massa- 
 cre of their families, demanded, with loud cries, 
 the immediate destruction of live thousand pris- 
 oners who were confined in the town. The in- 
 telligence of the wound of Bonchamps redoubled 
 their fury, and nothing seemed capable of saving 
 the unhappy captives. Already the cannon, 
 loaded witii grapeshot, were turned on the help- 
 less crowd of captives, whose destruction, to all 
 appearance, was inevitable. Meanwhile the of- 
 ficers of his army, on their laiees by his bed- 
 side, awaited with trembling anxiety the report 
 of the surgeon; their downcast and weeping 
 countenances soon told him there was no hope, 
 while the cries of the soldiers from M-ithout an- 
 nounced the imminent peril of the prisoners. In- 
 iluraanityof stantly Boiichamps seized D'Auti- 
 lionchiimps to champ, who knelt beside his couch, 
 the prisoners, by the hand, and besought him im- 
 mediately to fly and convey to the soldiers his 
 last orders to save the captives. He quickly 
 ran to fulfil the humane mission, but the sol- 
 diers were in such a state of exasperation that 
 nothing but the announcement of Bonchamps' 
 entreaties could arrest the uplifted arm of de- 
 struction. At length, however, they listened to 
 his entreaties; the guns were turned aside, and 
 the prisoners saved. Meanwhile Bonchamps 
 gave with calmness his last orders, and espe- 
 cially commanded that the lives of all the cap- 
 tives should be saved; several times before he 
 expired he anxiously inquired whether this had 
 been done, and expressed the utmost satisfaction 
 when he M-as infornied that they were secure. 
 He was fortunate enough to receive the last 
 consolations of religion from two venerable ec- 
 clesiastics, who soothed his dying hours by the 
 promises granted to devotion and humanity: 
 ''Yes," said he, '• I dare to hope for the Divine 
 mercy ; I have not acted from pride, or the de- 
 sire of a glory which perishes in eternity; I 
 have tried only to overturn the rule of impiety 
 and blood ;t I have not been able to restore the 
 throne, but I have at least defended the cause of 
 God, my king, and my country; and he has in 
 mercy enabled me to pardon — " Here the voice 
 of the hero failed, and he expired amid the sobs 
 of all who witnessed the scene. 
 
 While the last moments of the Rovalist chief 
 were ennobled by an act of mere}'', the 
 cruelty of triumph of the Republicans was stain- 
 the Repub- ed by unrelenting and uncallcd-forcru- 
 licans. gjty. The towns of Beaupreau and 
 Cholet were burned to the ground ; the inhabitants 
 of every age and sex put to the sword, and the 
 trophies of^ victory reared on the blood-soaked 
 
 * Jom., iv., 316. Laroch., 236, 237. Beauch., ii., 86- 
 91. Bonch., 49. Lac, xi , 137. 
 
 t Bonch., 52, 53. ; Laroch., 211. Beauch., ii., 06, 97. 
 
 ruins of their murdered countrymen's dwellings. 
 "The National Convention," said the represent- 
 atives Bourbotte and Turreau, in their report to 
 the assembly, " have decreed tliat the war in La 
 Vendee should be concluded by the end of Oc- 
 tober; and we may now say with truth that La 
 Vendee no longer exists. A profound .solitude 
 reigns in the country recently occupied by the 
 rebels ; you may travel far in tliose districts with- 
 out meeting eitlier a living creature or a dwell- 
 ing; tor, with the exception of Cliolet, St. Flo- 
 rent, and some little towns, where the num- 
 ber of patriots greatly exceeds that of the Royal- 
 ists, we have left behind us nothing but ashes 
 and piles of dead."* 
 
 Meanwhile the whole Vendean forces, with 
 the exception of those under Charette, Dreadful 
 flocked to St. Florent, with the de- passage of 
 sign of hastening over the Loire. No the Loire, 
 words can do justice to the horrors of the scene 
 which presented itself: eighty thousand persons, 
 of whom little more than one half were armed, 
 filled the semicircular valley which extends 
 from the base of the heights of St. Florent to the 
 margin of the riv^er. Soldiers, women, children, 
 old men, were crowded togethei', flying in con- 
 sternation from their burning villages, ,„ , q 
 the smoke of which darkened the air be- 
 hind them, while in front extended the broad sur- 
 face of the Loire, with a few barks only to ferry 
 over the helpless multitude. In the midst of the 
 tumult, and while the air resounded with the 
 cries of the fugitives, every one sought his chil- 
 dren, his parents, or his defenders ; and, crowd- 
 ing to the shore, stretched out their arms to the 
 opposite bank, as if, when it was readied, a pe- 
 riod woitld be put to all their sufferings. So 
 terrible was the spectacle, so vehement the agi- 
 tation of the multitude, that numbers compared 
 it to the awful spectacle which awaits the world 
 at the day of judgment.t 
 
 The generals were at first in despair at the 
 sight of the crowd of fugitives who surrounded 
 the army, and the utter confusion into which all 
 ranks were thrown by the panic : a feeling which 
 was much increased by the death of Bonchamps, 
 who alone was acquainted with the opposite 
 shore, and had always supported the passage of 
 the river. But finding it in vain to stem the tor- 
 rent, they made the best disposition of which the 
 circumstances would admit to eflect the passage 
 of the army; and with such skill were the ar- 
 rangements made, that, although there were only 
 twenty-five frail barks to transport so great a 
 multitude, the whole were ferried over, with all 
 their baggage, without any loss, and before the 
 advanced posts of the Republicans had yet reach- 
 ed St. Florent.l On the day following, Wes- 
 terman and the ibremost of the Republicans came 
 up to St. Florent in time to witness the last de- 
 tachments of the Vendeans cross to the opposite 
 shore, and vented their disappointment by devas- 
 tating with fire and sword the unhappy country 
 which they had abanrloned. 
 
 No sooner were the Vendeans in Brittany, 
 than they made choice of Henri de The Royal- 
 Larochejaquelein to be their com- ists enter 
 nnander, in the room of D'Elbee, who Brittany, 
 was utterly disabled by wounds, and on the rec- 
 ommendation of M. Lescure, who was yet lin- 
 gering on the bed of death. " Could a miracle 
 restore me to life," said that generous warrior, 
 
 * Guerres (ies Vend., ii , 2S7. Juni., iv.. 313. 
 
 t Laroch., 239, 240. Beaunh., ii , 99, 100. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 319. Laroch., 239-241. Beauch., ii., 102-104. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 265 
 
 wilh a feeble voice, when on his deathbed, " I 
 could form no wish but to be hi.s aid-de-cainp." 
 Much had been gained by ellectinc: the passage; 
 but, though ihe troops were still nunterous, they 
 were far troiu being in a condition tt) undertake 
 active operations. Disheartened by defeat, ex- 
 iled from their country, overwlielmed with a use- 
 less multitude of women and children, who fol- 
 lowed their steps, the soldiers wei-e very difler- 
 ent from the ardent and impetuous bands who 
 at Waumur and Toribu had carried terror into 
 the llopuhlican ranks. They were no longer in 
 their own parishes ; their mode of fighting was ill 
 adapted for an open country, where artillery and 
 cavalry constituted the principal weapons of 
 war; they had no magazines or ammunition, 
 and they had to repair the consequences of a re- 
 cent and bloody defeat. What then must have 
 been the skill of the generals, what the valour 
 of the soldiers, who could still, even amid such 
 di.sastrous circumstances, again chain victory 
 to their standards, and gain such an ascendency 
 over their enemi-es, that, but for the invincible 
 repugnance of the troops to leave the vicinity of 
 their homes, they might have marched to Paris 
 itself!* 
 
 Opinions w"ere divided as to the course which 
 the army should now pursue. M. de Lescure 
 strongly recommended that they should advance, 
 before they were weakened by any farther losses, 
 to Nantes, in order both to secure a depot for the 
 Jinny, open a communication with England, and 
 place the unarmed crowd of women and children 
 in a place of safety ;t and it would have been 
 well for the Royalist cause if this advice had 
 been adopted. But the Prince of Talmont 
 strongly urged an advance towards Rennes, 
 where an insurrection was expected to break 
 out, and his advice was adopted. 
 
 The army advanced successive!}- to Ingrande 
 23d Oct. ^"'^ Chateau Gonthier, the garrisons of 
 Battle of which were easily routed. At Laval, 
 Chateau nine thousand National Guards dispu- 
 Gonthier. jg^j ^j^g entrance of the town, but La- 
 rochejaquelein carried it by assault, and dispersed 
 the enemy.; Meanwhile, General Lechelle and 
 the convention, who flattered themselves that the 
 insurrection was crushed by the victor)^ of Cho- 
 let, were beyond measure astonished by the dis- 
 covery that the Royalists had crossed the river 
 without loss, and were in a situation menacing 
 alike to Angers and Nantes. After much hesi- 
 tation, it was resolved to divide the army into 
 two columns, the one of which was to cross at 
 Nantes, and the other by the bridge of Ce, and 
 unite for the pursuit of the Royal army. Le- 
 chelle came up with them while still occupying 
 the touTi of Laval, and, dividing his army into 
 two columns, commenced an attack. Laroche- 
 jaquelein tlew through the ranks and addressed 
 these energetic words to his soldiers: "To ef- 
 face now the remembrance of your former de- 
 leats is the only salvation that remains to you. 
 On your arms now depends not only your own 
 lives, and those of your wives and children, but 
 the throne of France and the altars of God. Let 
 us, then, advance to victory; the Bretons extend 
 their arms to receive you; they will nid us to 
 reconquer our hearths ; but now we must con- 
 quer; a defeat would be irreparable ruin." Les- 
 I'lU'e insisted upon being carried in a litter 
 ilirouijh the ranks, and sharing in the dangers 
 
 ' .Tom , iv., 32. Bcauch., ii.. 108, 109. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 321. Laroch., 249. Rnauch., li., 110, 111. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 321. Laroch., 257. Beauch., ii., 117. 
 
 Vol. L— L l 
 
 that awaited them. Animated by these exam- 
 ples, llie Royalists advanced to tlie en- 
 counter in close columns. By a vigor- ^^'^ ^'^'• 
 ous charge at the head of a sinall body of horse, 
 Stoftlet made himself master of some pieces of 
 cannon, which he immediately turned against the 
 enemy ; Larochejaquelein and Royrand pressed 
 them severely in front, while another column, 
 headed by Dehargues, turned their Hank and at- 
 tacked them in rear. The Vendeans had to 
 deal with the redoubtable garrison of Mayence, 
 but the}^ Ibught with the courage of despair, and 
 on no former occasion had exhibited a more en- 
 thusiastic valour. After a desperate struggle, 
 the Republicans began to give way; they were 
 pursued with loud shouts by the Royalists as far 
 as Chateau Gonthier, where a battery of cannon 
 for a moment arrested their progress; but La- 
 rochejaquelein threw himself on the guns, carri- 
 ed them, and pursued the enemy through the 
 town with great slaughter. On reaching the 
 open country on the opposite side, they disper- 
 sed, and with great difficulty, and in utter con- 
 fusion, by diverging lines, reached the towns of 
 Rennes and Nantes. In this battle, the garrison 
 of Mayence, which had inflicted such losses on 
 the Vendeans, was almost entirely destroyed ; 
 the total loss of the Republicans was twelve 
 thousand men, and nineteen pieces of cannon; 
 and of their whole army, scarce seven thousand 
 could be rallied at Angers after the action. Gen- 
 eral Lechelle was so overwhelmed by the disas- 
 ter, that he resigned the command in despair, 
 and retired to Tours, where anxiety and chagrin 
 soon brought him to an untimely end.* 
 
 On the day when this astonishing victory was 
 gained, Barere announced the extinction of the 
 war of La Vendee in the convention in the fol- 
 lowing terms: " La Vendee is no more. Mon- 
 taigut and Cholet are in our power; the brigands 
 are everywhere exterminated ; a profound soli- 
 tude reigns in the Bocage, covered with cinders 
 and watered with tears. The death of Bon- 
 champs alone is equivalent to a victory." Aban- 
 doning themselves to the most tumultuous joy 
 at this intelligence, the people danced in all the 
 public places of Paris, and everywhere the ex- 
 clamation was heard, " La Vend('>e is no more." 
 It may be conceived, then, what was the public 
 consternation when, a few days after, it was dis- 
 covered that the Republican array was dispersed, 
 and that nothing remained to prevent the ad- 
 vance of the Royalists to the capital !t 
 
 This glorious victoiy restored at once the 
 Vendean cau.se : the remains of the 
 Republican amy had fled in diflerent "ate ofthe 
 directions to Rennes, Angers, and Nan- Repnbli- 
 tes, and nothing remained to prevent cans after 
 the Royalists from marching either to l*^.''"' '^^' 
 Paris, Nantes, or Alcn<;on. General 
 Lenoir, in his report to the convention, declared, 
 " The rebels may now drive us before them to 
 Paris if they choose." Unfortunately, they were 
 led by the hopes of succours from England to di- 
 rect their march to the coast, and thus lost the 
 moment of decisive success. After remaining 
 ten days at Laval, to restore some degree of or- 
 der in the army, they advanced to Fougeres, in 
 the hope of being re-enforced by recruits from 
 Brittany, and of drawing nearer the expected 
 aid from Great Britain. ~ Here two emigrants 
 arrived with despatches from the British govem- 
 
 * Jom.. iv., 392, 396, 330. Laroch., 262-2fi4. Klebpr, 
 GneiK-s dcs Vend., li., 305, 30fi. Beauch., ii., 120, 123-130. 
 + Beauch., ii.. 132-134. 
 
265 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 ment, which, after protesting the desire of Eng- 
 land to aid them, and recommending Granville 
 as the point of debarcation, prumisecl succour 
 on their arrival at that port.* This ofl'er re- 
 moved every hesitation as to their plans : the 
 prospect of obtaining a seaport town, defended 
 by forliftcations, where they could at once de- 
 posite in a place of safety the crowd of helpless 
 nioutlis which encumbered the army, obtain a 
 firm footing for their stores, and open a direct 
 communication with the powerful allies who 
 seemed to be advancing to their assistance, dis- 
 pelled every doubt. They determined, in conse- 
 quence, to march to Granville, and despatched 
 an answer by the British envoy, in which, after 
 expressing their intentions and explaining their 
 wants, they entreated that a prince of the blood 
 might be sent to assume the command, and ter- 
 minate the divisions which already began to 
 paralyze their movements.! 
 
 from their fatigues, advanced slowly Novem. 14. 
 to Granville, which they surround- The Royalisu 
 
 cd with thirty thousand combatants, repulsed at 
 Their march had been .so much de- t'^anviUe. 
 layed by their encumbrances, that no hope re- 
 mained of surprising the place, and the want 
 of heav}^ artillery precluded the possibility of 
 breaching its ramparts. It was theretbre resolv- 
 ed to attempt an escalade, for the English suc- 
 cours had not arrived, and the circumstances of 
 the army had rendered immediate success indis- 
 pensable. After scaling-ladders were prepared,^ 
 and the Royalists, after having in vain summon- 
 ed the place, advanced to the assault, such was 
 the ardour of the soldiers that they not only made 
 themselves masters of the suburbs, but rushed 
 into the outworks, and some of the bravest even 
 mounted the rampart, supplying the want of 
 scaling-ladders by their bayonets, which they 
 stuck into the crevices of the walls. The cjarri- 
 
 Meanwhile the Republicans did eveiything son, panic-struck, were fl3'ing from the top, wlien 
 --in their power to repair the disaster; and a deserter exclaimed, " Treason! we are betray- 
 '' ''^' ' while Kleber laboured assiduously at An- ed!" and the impetuous crowd, yielding to the 
 jers to reorganize his army, the convention is- 1 impulse, precipitated themselves back into the 
 
 sued a bloody decree, in which they ordered that 
 " every city which should receive the rebels, 
 give them succour, or fail to repel them with all 
 the means in their power, should be treated as a 
 city in revolt, razed to the ground, and the whole 
 property of the inhabitants confiscated to the 
 Republic"; Fortunately, the weakness of their 
 arms on the right bank of the Loire prevented 
 this decree from being generally carried into ex- 
 ecution. 
 At Fougeres the army sustained an irrepara- 
 ble loss by the death of M. Lescure, 
 "e^Lescurf ^^^^o sunk at length under the con- 
 sequences of the wound he had re- 
 
 ditch. The attack continued, but, not having 
 been preceded by any reconnoissance, and car- 
 ried on in utter ignorance of the works, it took 
 place on the least accessible front, and where 
 the assailants were exposed to a severe flanking 
 fire from the armed vessels in the harbour. Not- 
 withstanding the most heroic exertions, the Ven- 
 deaus were repulsed; and the Republican com- 
 mander, seeing no other way of driving them 
 out of the suburbs, set fire to them himself, and 
 the conflagration being aided by a high wind, 
 soon reduced them to ashes. The Vendeans, at 
 the earnest entreaty of their leaders, returned a 
 second time to the assault over the smoking 
 
 ceived at the battle of Cholet, and the protracted | ruins of the suburb ; but this attack was again 
 suffering and anxiety which he had since under- unsuccessful. Their priests animated their cour- 
 gone. He awaited the approach of death- with ' age by marching at their head with the crucifix 
 his usual serenity. "Open the windows,'' said ; in their hands; the othcers led on the coluiims, 
 he to his wife, who was watching by his bed- j and over the smoking ruins of the houses the 
 side; " is it clear T' "Yes," said she, "the sun ardent troops rushed lorward, regardless of the 
 is shining." " I have, then," replied the dying storm of musketry and grape which showered 
 general, " a veil before my eyes : I always down upon them from the rampart, and a severe 
 thought that my wound was mortal : I have no , flanking fire from the gunboats in tJie harbour, 
 longer any doubt of it. My dearest, I am about ' The palisades were broken down, the ditch 
 to leave you : that is my sole regret, and that I '< crossed, and in some places even the ramparts 
 have not been able to replace the king upon the ' .scaled ; but the resistance of the Republicans 
 throne. I leave you in the midst of a civil war, j was as brave as the assault ; and after a mur- 
 with a helpless infant, and another in your bo- j derous conflict of six-and-thirty hours, Henri de 
 som : that is what distresses me. For myself I | Larochejaquelein was reluctantly compelled tc» 
 have no fears; I have often seen death before I order a retreat, after sustaining a loss of eighteen 
 
 me, and it has no ten'ors : I hope to go to heaven. 
 It is you alone that I regret," and heie his eyes 
 filled with tears ; " I hoped to have made you 
 happy. Forgive me now if ever I have caused 
 you distress ; and console yourself with thinking 
 that I shall be in heaven : I carrA'^ with me the 
 blessed presentiment that the Almighty will 
 watch over your days." He soon after breathed 
 his last, while a smile of benevolence still lin- 
 
 hundred men.* 
 
 This check proved extremely hurtful to the 
 Vendcan cause. Larochejaquelein and Their re- 
 Stotflet determined to advance to Caen, treat to- 
 where a strong Royalist party was wards the 
 known to exist ; and they had already Loire. 
 set out at the head of the cavaliy for that purpo.se, 
 when a revolt broke out among the troops. The 
 authorit)- of the chiefs was immediately disre- 
 
 gered on his features ; and the pious care of his | garded ; the Prince of Talmont, accused of a de- 
 relations committed him to the earth, in an un- j sign to escape to Jerse3% was seized by the mu- 
 known place of sepulture, where his body was ; tineers, and with difliculty rescued from instant 
 preserved from the insults which the fury of ' death. Larochejaquelein's voice was contemn- 
 ihe Republicans would have inflicted on his re- ' ed; Stoiflet alone preserved anj' authority over 
 mains.§ I the troops. The peasants, who had never been 
 
 The Vendeans having at length recovered j subjected to regular discipline, and could not 
 
 be made to comprehend the plan of operations 
 which their leaders had adopted, loudly exclaim- 
 ed against any farther continuance of their weari- 
 
 * Laroch., 281. Jom.. iv., 327, 32S. Bcauch., ii., 138. 
 Guerres des Vend., ii., 327. 
 
 T Join , iv., 329. Larnch., 291. Beauch., ii., 152-155. 
 
 t Guerres des Vend., ii., 321. 
 
 <t Laroch., 269-271. Beauch., ii., 119. 
 
 Laroch., 266-288. Jom., iv., 332. Beauch., ii., 168-170 
 
1793] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 267 
 
 some march, and insisted upon immediately re- 
 turning to their homes. The generals, alter ex- 
 hausting every effort of reason and eloquence, 
 were compelled to yield to the torrent, and orders 
 were given to the whole army to move towards 
 the Loire, to the infinite joy of the soldiers, who 
 declared that they would secure a passage at 
 Angers, though its walls were made of iron.* 
 
 The army, on its return homeward, took the 
 Th d feat '"^'^ "' Pontorson. Rossignol, hav- 
 the^Repub- '"S Collected a body of eighteen thou- 
 licans at Sand men, endeavoured to defend that 
 Pontorson. town, and a furious conflict took place 
 '*'''*■• ^'^- in the streets ; but the attack of the 
 Royalists, who felt that they must force their 
 way, sword in hand, to La Vendee, was irresisti- 
 ble ; the Republicans were driven at the point of 
 the bayonet through the streets, their cannoniers 
 cut down at their guns, and the whole army de- 
 feated, with the loss of all their baggage and ar- 
 tillery. Rossignol fell back to Dol, where, hav- 
 ing received considerable re-enforcements, and 
 been joined by another Republican army, which 
 raised his force to thirty-five thousand men, he en- 
 deavoured to make head against the enemy, and 
 bar their return to La Vendee. On the 
 approach of the Royalists, however, 
 he evacuated the town, and its single and spa- 
 cious street was crowded b}' carriages, artillery, 
 and baggage-wagons, and above sixty thousand 
 persons who encumbered the army. At mid- 
 night, the action commenced by a vigorous at- 
 tack of the Republicans on the advanced guard 
 of the Royalists, drawn up in front of the town ; 
 the alann was immediately given, and the troops 
 hastily sprung to their arms, amid the prayers 
 and tears of their wives and children, v.-ho saw 
 no possible escape but in their valour. The rat- 
 tling of the artillery, the cries of the soldiers, the 
 gleaming of the sabres in torchlight as the horse- 
 men shook them in the air when advancing to 
 the charge, the fleeting illumination of the shells 
 which burst on all sides, filled the helpless multi- 
 tude with terror and agitation. The first attack 
 Their des- of the Royalists was entirely success- 
 perate sit- ful, the Republicans were driven back 
 uation. t^yo leagues, but their left wing and re- 
 serve having been suddenly assailed, when dis- 
 ordered by success, by Rossignol's right, were 
 thrown into confusion, and driven back with 
 great loss to the town.t 
 
 The confusion there soon became indescriba- 
 ble ; the fugitives broke their way through the 
 unarmed crowd, while the horsemen trampled 
 under foot men, women, and children in their 
 tlight ; and the street was covered with wounded 
 and dying victims, imploring their countrymen 
 not to desert them in their distress. In this ex- 
 tremity, the chiefs were in such despair that thej- 
 sought death ; Henri de Larochejaquelein re- 
 mained several minutes with his arms across in 
 front of a baUery, while Autichamp, Marigny, 
 and the other leaders exerted themselves to the 
 utmost to stop the fugitives, and Stofflet, who had 
 at first been carried away by the torrent, made 
 the most vigorous eflx)rts to check it. The wom- 
 en even snatched their fusils from the soldiers, 
 and discharged them at the enemv; and the 
 priests, with the cross in their hands, exhorted 
 them to return to the combat. The curate, in 
 particular, of Santa Maria de Re, from an emi- 
 nence harangued the men in the most energetic 
 
 strains. " My children," said he, " I will march 
 at your head with the crucifix in my hands; let 
 those who will follow me fall on their knees, and 
 I will give them absolution ; if they fall, thev 
 will be received into Paradise, but the coward's 
 who betray God and their families will be mas- 
 sacred by the Blues, and their souls consigned to 
 hell." Above two thousand men fell on their 
 knees, received absolution, and returned to the 
 battle, with the curate at their head, exclaiming 
 " Vive le Roi ! Nous allons en Paradis." Stim- 
 ulated in this manner, the soldiers renewed the 
 combat; soon such was the fury of the contend- 
 ing parties, that they seized each other, and tore 
 their bodies with their hands when their ammu- 
 nition was exhausted; so completely were the 
 ranks intermingled, that frequently the Vendeans 
 and Republicans were served with ammunition 
 from the same tumbrils. At length the valour 
 of the Royalists prevailed; the battalions of vol- 
 unteers in the Republican army began to fall into 
 confusion, and soon the rout became general ; the 
 whole army disbanded and fled, some to Rennes 
 and others to Fougeres, leaving six thousand 
 killed and wounded on the field of battle ;* while 
 the Royalists, headed by their priests, returned 
 to Dol, and hastened to the churches to return 
 thanks to Heaven for their unhoped-for escape 
 from so desperate a situation. 
 
 The Republicans were repulsed, but not de- 
 feated. They retired to a position which they 
 had strongly fortified around the town of Antrain, 
 and there still barred the line of the Royalists' 
 march. At noon they Avere attacked at all points 
 by the Vendeans, headed by Larochejaquelein, 
 who was fearful to allow the first moments of en- 
 thusiasm, consequent on their victory, to pass 
 away without achieving decisive success. For 
 long the obstinacy of the Republicans arrested 
 the furious onset of the Vendeans, but at length 
 their intrenchments were carried, and they fled 
 on all sides. The victors entered Antrain pell- 
 mell with the fugitives, and a scene of matchless 
 horror ensued in the crowded streets of that town. 
 In the confusion of the flight, the soldiers, the 
 camp followers, and the wounded were crowded 
 amid the artillery and baggage-wngons ; the 
 whole fell together into the hands of the Royal- 
 ists, and there was great danger that an indis- 
 criminate massacre would ensue from the troops, 
 now wrought up by the cruelties of the Repub- 
 licans to the highest pitch of exasperation. But 
 their leaders interposed, and signalized their tri- 
 umph by an extraordinary act of humanity. The 
 wounded who fell into their hands were not only 
 treated and clothed with the same care as their 
 own soldiers, but they were all sent back, with- 
 out exchange, to Rennes, with a letter to the Re- 
 publican authorities there, in which, after re- 
 counting the atrocious craelty of their troops in 
 La Vendee, they added, "but it is by acts of hu- 
 manity that the Royal army avenge the massacre 
 of its enemies. "t 
 
 These great victories again restored the Roy- 
 alist affairs ; for, during the first con- T),eir qreat 
 fusion following their defeat, the Re- diffifultics, 
 publicans were in no condition to notwithstand- 
 have prevented them either from ["^^^ ^^ ^"^' 
 reaching the bridge of C6 or Sau- 
 mur, or even making themselves masters of 
 Nantes or Granville, from which the garrison had 
 now been withdrawn.? Aft.er long deliberation, 
 
 * Jom., iv., 332, a.'iS. Laroch.,289. Beauch., li. 173-175. * Laroch., 300-305. .Tom., iv.. 336, 337. Beauch., ij., 
 t Laroch., 292. Beauch., ii., 184. 107,198. t Beauch., li., 200-203. t Jom., iv., 338. 
 
268 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 the generals determined to march back lo thai 
 place, which would now become an easy j3rey, 
 and where they might bolli disencumber tliem- 
 selves of tiicir followers, and open a communi- 
 cation with England. But no sooner was tiiis 
 letermination known, than the troops again broke 
 out into open revolt ; and so vehement was the 
 tumult, that it could only be appeased by an im- 
 mediate change of the destination of the army to 
 Angers. " Consider,"' said they, " how formid- 
 able tlie Republic is: have we not invariably 
 Ibund that a bloody combat is but the prelude to 
 another still more bloody : are we not weakened 
 by immense losses, and totally inadequate to 
 head an insurrection in Brittany 1 What can we 
 do on an inhospitable soil, without succour, 
 without support, olten without food? Let us re- 
 turn to the land which gave us birth: we shall at 
 least find some vestiges of our aUars, and some 
 remains of our homes, where we may fmd shel- 
 ter, or in the last extremity be allowed to repose 
 in unmolested grav'es. Our corpses will not 
 there, as here, become the prey of vultures and 
 beasts of prey. What do we expect from the 
 Bretons 1 Do they not treat us like wandering 
 brigands ] Let us, therefore, hasten to regain La 
 Vendee; Ciiarette is still redoubtable amid its 
 woods ; let us rally our .standards to his, and he 
 may 3'et lead us to victory." These discourses 
 inflamed the minds of the people to such a degree, 
 that all efforts to sway them became fruitless. 
 In vain the colours were displayed on the road 
 to Pontorson, and the chiefs made every etlbrt to 
 induce the soldiers to follow them; a mutiny 
 more terrible than that at Granville arose on all 
 sides, and the leaders were reluctantly obliged to 
 take the road to the Loire. Thither, acconlingly, 
 they marched by Fougeres, Ernee, and Laval, 
 without being disquieted by the enemy ; but the 
 courage of the soldiers was much abated by the 
 spectacles of horror which met them in revisiting 
 those towns which they had formerly occupied. 
 Everywhere the sick, the wounded, the children 
 who had been left behind, had been massacred 
 by the Pcepublicans, and their bodies still lay 
 unburied in the streets ; even the owners of the 
 houses who had given tliem shelter had been put 
 to the sword with merciless severity. Every one 
 approached Angers with the conviction that 
 sooner or later, in the progress of this terrible 
 war, he would perish in the field or on the scaf- 
 fold.* 
 
 Angers, surrounded by an old wall, and en- 
 They are cumbered by vast fauxbourgs, was de- 
 rapuised at fended only by a small garrison, and. 
 Angers. on the approach of the Royalists, Gen- 
 eral Danican had thrown himself into it with his 
 biigade, less in the hope of making good the place 
 than of securing for it terms of capitulation ; 
 and if the troops had known how to conduct a 
 mup-r/c-VLain, it would have fallen an easy prey, 
 and the whole measures of the convention would 
 have been defeated. But the attack was not 
 conducted with more skill than that of Granville, 
 and the troops, worn out by fatigue and suffering, 
 did not display their wonted bravery; for long 
 they confined themselves to a distant cannonade ; 
 but at length, after thirty hours of a murderous 
 conflict, they had reached the rampart, and were 
 commencing the escalade, when their rear was 
 assailed by tne Republican cavalr\', who had 
 leen detached by Rossignol to harass the besie- 
 gers. The attack was quickly repulsed by M. 
 
 Laroch., 309. Jom., iv., 338. Ceauch, ii., 207, 203. 
 
 Forestier with the Vendean horse ; nevertheless, 
 such was the confusion produced by this unfore- 
 seen alarm, that a sudden panic instantly .seized 
 the army : they left tlie walls, and began to file 
 oil' in confusion, without orders, towards Beauge. 
 The chiefs did their utmost to bring them back 
 to the assault, but in vain ; they even went so far 
 as to pronrise them the pillage of the town if they 
 were successful ; but such was the virtue of thesi* 
 simple people, even amid all their sufi'erings, 
 that they rejected the proposal with horror, and 
 declared that God would abandon them if such 
 a project was agam entertained.* 
 
 No sooner had the army reached Beauge, than 
 they perceived the ruinous consequences of the 
 step they had taken. There were no means of 
 passing the Loire in that line but by Saumur or 
 Tours; the bridges of which, defended by nu- 
 merous garrisons, atibrded no prospect of efi'ect- 
 ingthe object. A universal consternation seized 
 the troops ; though in sight of their homes, they 
 were utterly unable to cross the river. The sick 
 multiplied with frightful rapidity ; the cries of 
 the wounded, who were abandoned on the march, 
 harrowed up every heart ; the severity of the 
 weather, the dreadful roads, the famine which 
 began to prevail, the weeping crowd who sur- 
 rounded the soldiers, unnerved the strongest 
 hearts. The chiefs knew not what to do ; the 
 men were in despair.t 
 
 In this extremity, the firnmess of M. de La- 
 rochejaquelein did not desert him, and, after care- 
 fully weighing every consideration, it was re- 
 solved to alter the destination of the army, and 
 move by La B'leche upon Mans. The retreat 
 was protected by a strong rear-guard, but no 
 danger was apprehended in front. Great, then, 
 was the consternation of the troops, when, on ar- 
 riving at La Felche, they found the bridge bro- 
 ken down, and live thousand men occupying the 
 opposite bank of the river, while their rear was 
 vebemently assailed. But the presence of mind 
 of the general saved them from apparent ruin. 
 Ordering the rear-guard to keep fii-m, he took 
 three hundred of his boldest horsemen, and put a 
 grenadier behind each oi croupe ; with „ , .p, 
 this he crossed the stream at a ford a *^- 
 
 short distance farther up, at nightfall, and at- 
 tacked the Republicans in the dark. A panic 
 instantly seized their troops, who dispersed, and 
 fled in all directions, while Larochejaquelein re- 
 established the bridge, and gave a day's repose 
 to his wearied army, after which they continued 
 their march without opposition to Mans.t 
 
 This town was destined to witness the ruin of 
 the Royalist cause. The troops ar- Defeated with 
 rived there in such a state of fa- great loss at 
 tigue, depression, and suffering, that Mans. lOth of 
 it \vas easy to foresee that they would ^tcember. 
 be unable to withstand a vigorous attack; six 
 months of incessant marches and combats had 
 weakened their resolution, as well as exhausted 
 their strength. They were in the state of the 
 grand army on their retreat from Moscow-, with 
 this additional circumstance of aggravation, that 
 an exhausted multitude, equal in number to the 
 soldiers, encumbered the army, and melted every 
 heart by the spectacle of their sufferings. The 
 numbers of sick and wounded rendered a halt of 
 a few days absolutely necessary; and this gave 
 time to the Republican generals to concert meas- 
 
 * Jom., iv., 310. Larorh.,310. Beauch., ii., 214-216. 
 
 t Jom., IV., 340. Laroch., 313, 314. 
 
 J Laroch., 317. Jom., iv., 342 Beauth., ii., 223-225. 
 
1703.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 269 
 
 12th Dec. 
 
 ures for their de.stniction. Forces were 
 uocuiuulaliii;^ on all sides ; Marccau, 
 Westerinan, and Kleber hatl assembled lorty 
 thousand men, with which they assailed the ex- 
 hausted llovalisl army, who were in no condi- 
 tion to resist an attack. They made, neverthe- 
 less, an heroic defence, though only twelve thou- 
 sand could be collected in a condition lit to face 
 the enemy. Larochejaquelein jiosted the bravest 
 of his troops in a fir wood, from whence they 
 kept up so heavy a (ire as long held in check the 
 Icltof the Republicans; but Kleber having driven 
 bade the division of ytolilet from its position, the 
 whole army was borne backward like a torrent 
 into the town. There, however, they resisted in 
 the most obstinate manner. Larochejaquelein 
 pointed his cannon down all the streets leading 
 to the great square, and filled the whole houses 
 in the streets with musketeers ; a terrible fire 
 arose on all sides, and increased the horrors of a 
 nocturnal combat. But after a frightful night of 
 carnage, the Republican columns had gained 
 ground in eveiy quarter; Larochejaquelein had 
 two horses killed under him ; and, in spite of his 
 utmost et!brts, the mighty crowd was forced out 
 of the town, and disbanded when they reached 
 the plain on the other side. The scene of con- 
 fusion and horror which there ensued defies all 
 description; Larochejaquelein in vain assembled 
 fifteen hundred men to check the advance of the 
 victorious columns; he was wounded and over- 
 turned in the tumult, his band dispersed, and the 
 Republicans commenced an indiscriminate car- 
 nage on the shrieking fugitives. Ten thousand 
 soldiers, and an equal number of women and 
 children, perished under their relentless swords, 
 while almost all their artillery, and an incalcu- 
 lable quantity of baggage, fell into the hands of 
 the victors. Such as survived owed their escape 
 chietiy to the heroism of the Chevalier Duhoux 
 and Viscount Scepeaux, who, with eight hundred 
 hrave men, maintained their ground to the very- 
 last, and with their own hands discharged the 
 guns of a battery which covered the rear-guard, 
 after all the cannoniers had fallen by their side. 
 The pitiless Republicans massacred the women 
 and children by thousands; youth, grace, rank, 
 and beauty were alike disregarded ; and the vast 
 crowd which had flocked together to avoid de- 
 struction, perished under the incessant discharges 
 of grapeshol or the platoons of the mus- 
 "' ketry, under the eyes of the commission- 
 ei-s of the convention.* 
 
 Such of the Royalists as had escaped the car- 
 „. . nage reassembled at Laval two 
 
 state! Herofc (^^J^ afterward, and it was resolved 
 conduct nf Hen- to move to Ancenis, with the de- 
 li de Laroclie- sign of again attempting the pas- 
 jiiquclein. ^^„^ ^f tj^g l^oiie. A single boat 
 
 alone was found in that town, but four large 
 vessels, laden with hay, were on the opposite 
 side, which was guarded by patrols of the enemy. 
 Henri de Larochejaquelein, finding that no one 
 had courage to attemj)! their seizure, himself leap- 
 ed into the boat, while another, which had been 
 brought in a cart, bore M. de Langerie and eigh- 
 teen soldiers. The river, swollen with winter 
 rains, was flowing in an impetuous torrent, and 
 all eyes were fixed with agonizing anxiety on the 
 frail barks on which the safety of the whole de- 
 pended. At length they reached the opposite 
 shore, and the peasants began with ai\iour to 
 
 * Jom., iv., 343, 344. Lavoch, 320-322. Lac, xi., 167, 
 IG8. Beauch., ii., 230-238. 
 
 work at unloading the vessels of their cargoes, 
 when a detachment of Republicans appeareil on 
 the coast where they had landed, and attacked 
 and dispersed the so'ldiers of Larochejaquelein, 
 who was compelled to seek refuge in a neigh- 
 bouring forest. At the same time, a gunboat of 
 the enemy a})peared in the river, and by a few 
 discharges sunk all the rafts which, with eager 
 haste, the peasants had been forming to transport 
 themselves over, while the advanced guard of 
 Westerman assailed the rear. Thus, at the very 
 moment when his skill was most required, the 
 army found itself deprived of its leader.* 
 
 Despair now seized upon the army, which flee' 
 in confusion, without either provisions 
 or leaders, to Niort, and from thence, Fn'alrout 
 through a hea\y tall ot snow, to Sav- 
 enay. The troops melted away on all sides ; the 
 sick and wounded were abandoned, the most in- 
 trepid straggled in detached parties to the banks 
 of the Loire, and above one thousand 
 were ferried over in the night, and form- 
 ed the nucleus from whence those intrepid bands 
 of Chouans were formed, who so long desolated 
 the Morbihan ; while some, with less resolution, 
 surrendered themselves to the Republicans, in 
 hopes of that amnesty which they held out as a 
 treacherous snare to their prostrated enemies. 
 Hardly ten thousand, of whom only six thousand 
 were armed, could be assembled at Savenay, 
 where, nevertheless, they made a gallant defence. 
 Their leaders, M. de Marigny, Fleuriot, the 
 Prince de Talmont, and other indomitable chiefs, 
 urged the men to combat with the courage of 
 despair; all the wounded who could sit on horse- 
 back were led out to the fight, and even young 
 women and boys seized the muskets of their fa- 
 thers and brothers, and joined the array. 
 Long, and with heroic resolution, they ^^' 
 
 held the immense columns of the Republicans in 
 check ; and when, at length, they were obliged 
 to retire, they fell back in good order, with the 
 women in front, and the few pieces of artilleiy 
 they had left facing about in the rear till the last 
 cartridge and cannon-shot in the army was ex- 
 pended. Even after they could no longer dis- 
 charge their pieces, the rear-guard continued to 
 fight with unshaken bravery with their swords 
 and bayonets, till they all lell under the fire of 
 the Republicans. " I examined their bodies," 
 said the Republican general, in his despatch to 
 Merlin de Thionville, " and recogni.sed the stern 
 expression, the invincible resolution of Cholet 
 and Laval. The men who could conquer such 
 enemies have nothing to fear I'rom other nations. 
 That war, so often styled in ridicule a contest 
 with brigands and peasants, has been the severest 
 trial of the Republic: I now feel that we shall 
 have children's play with our other enemies. "t 
 
 This deleat was a mortal stroke to the Vendean 
 cause : of eighty thousand souls who had crossed 
 the Loire six weeks before, .scarce three thousand 
 got back in detached bodies to La Vendee. Con- 
 cealed by the courageous hospitality of the peas- 
 ants, numbers were saved from the savage cru- 
 elty of their pursuers, among whom were Mes- 
 dames de Larochejaquelein and Bonchamps, 
 who escaped unparalleled dangers, and lived to 
 fascinate the world by the splendid story of their 
 husbands' virtues and their own misfortunes. 
 Others, less fortunate, fell into the hands of the 
 
 * Laroch., 332, 333. Jom., iv., 345, 346. Beauch., ii., 
 243—245, 
 
 t Laroch., 345-349. Jom., iv., 348, 349. Lac, xi., 168, 
 169. Beauch.. ii., 250-259. 
 
270 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XU. 
 
 llepublicans, who hunted them down night and 
 day during the dreadl'ul winter of 1794, and led 
 1.0 prison and the scalibld the noblest blood in 
 France.* 
 
 In wai' everything depends upon rapidity of 
 execution and an accurate attention 
 Tardy move- ^ time; the moment of success, once 
 ments ot the , , ,' ' 
 
 English to allowed to escape, never returns, 
 support the Hardly had the Royalist standards 
 insurgents, disappeared from the shores of tJrit- 
 JJecember 2. ^,^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^j^^ j^^^j^ English SUC- 
 
 cours, commanded by Lord Moira, who had ex- 
 erted himself to the utmost to accelerate the prep- 
 arations, appeared on the coast of Cherbourg, 
 having on board eight English battalions, four 
 thousand Hanoverians, and two thousand emi- 
 grants, in all ten thousand men. They looked 
 out in vain for the expected signals ; and after re- 
 maining on the coast for some days, and receiv- 
 ing intelligence of the defeat of the Royalists at 
 Granville, returned to Guernsey, where the ex- 
 pedition was broken up. Had the succour arri- 
 ved on the coast a Ibrtnight sooner — had even a 
 I'^w English trigates appeared otf Granville du- 
 ring the assault, to intimidate the Republicans 
 and encourage the Royalists, the town would 
 have been taken, the jimction of the English 
 troops with the Royalists efiected, and the united 
 forces marched in triiunph to Paris.f 
 
 The expedition beyond the Loire was doubt- 
 less ruinous to the cause of La Vendee ; and yet 
 never did an army .so situated achieve such tri- 
 umphs as it did before its fatal termination. Be- 
 fore it fell, that army, without magazines or pro- 
 visions, at the distance of forty leagues from its 
 home, and surrounded by three hostile armies, 
 marched one hundred and seventy leagues in 
 sixty days, took twelve cities, gained seven bat- 
 tles, killed twenty thousand of the Republicans, 
 and took from them one hundred pieces of can- 
 non, trophies greater than were gained by the vast 
 allied armies in Flanders during the whole cam- 
 paign.: 
 
 While the great bulk of the Vendean forces 
 were engaged in this perilous and fa- 
 ^f'c^areue ^^^ expedition, Charette, with a few 
 thousand men who adhered to his 
 standard, made himself master of the isle of Noir- 
 moutiers, where the Republicans had left but a 
 slender garrison. He immediately began forti- 
 fying it with care, with the design of making a 
 depot for his sick, wounded, and stores.§ From 
 this place of security he made various expedi- 
 tions into the adjoining province during the win- 
 ter of 1793-4 with various .success, until the re- 
 turn of the wreck of the grand army from its ex- 
 pedition beyond the Loire. Frequently the Re- 
 publican general wrote to the mayor of a village, 
 that 11' the inhabitants would remain, they should 
 suffer no violence ; and having prevailed on them, 
 by this deceitful pledge, not to fly, surrounded it 
 with his soldiers, and put every living soul to 
 death. II General Thurreau was appointed com- 
 mander-in-chief of the army of the West, and 
 he found himself nominally at the head of fifty 
 thousand men, but one hall of whom alone were 
 fit for active service, the remainder being sick, 
 wounded, or exhausted in the hospitals. Thur- 
 reau commenced his operations by a descent on 
 the island of Noirmoutiers, of which he easily 
 made himself master in the absence of Charette. 
 
 * Jom., IV., 349. Laroch., 350-361. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 351. Beauch., li., 178-181. 
 
 t Beauch., ii., 260. 
 
 <) Beauch., v., 258. lb., ii., 293-297. U Laroch., 144. 
 
 He there found D'Elb^e covered with wounds, 
 who had been removed to that place of security 
 after the battle of Cholet. When the soldiers en- 
 tered his room, where he was unable to rise from 
 his bed, they exclaimed, " Here, then, is D'Elhee 
 at last." " Yes," he replied, •' here is your gi'eat- 
 est enemy; if 1 had been able to wield a sword, 
 you should never have taken IN'oirmoutiers." 
 He underwent a long interrogatory, which he 
 answered with equal firnmess and good faith ; 
 and met death with unshaken constanc}', sitting 
 in his chair, from which his wounds disabled 
 him from rising. His last words were raised to 
 save an innocent man who was led out for exe- 
 cution by his side. The officer who presided at 
 the execution named, after D'Elbee and two 
 others, who were placed together, " Wieland the 
 traitor, who sold iVoirmoutiers to the rebels" — 
 D'Elbee, instantly summoning up all his strength, 
 exclaimed, " No, gentlemen, Wieland is not a 
 traitor ; he never aided our party, and you are 
 about to put to death an innocent man;" but 
 scarcely were the generous words uttered, when 
 the order to fire was given, and the whole four 
 fell together. His wife was next day executed 
 with the generous hostess who had given her 
 shelter in her misforttmes ; they both evinced in 
 their last moments the same courage which had 
 been displayed by the murdered general. Num- 
 bers of other Royalists were shot at the same 
 time, among whonu were the two young sons of 
 Maignan de I'Ecorce, who had followed their fa- 
 ther to battle with a courage beyond their years.* 
 
 Henri de Larochejaquelein did not long survive 
 his brave commander. After his separation from 
 the army at the rout of Mans, he took refuge in 
 the forest of Visins, near the Loire, from whence 
 he made frequent incursions upon the Republi- 
 can posts with such success that his little pany 
 daily increased, and proved a source of unceasing 
 disquietude to the Republicans. In one of his 
 incursions he made prisoner an adjutant-general, 
 bearing an order to proclaim an amnesty to the 
 peasants, and massacre them after they submit- 
 ted : a discovery which contributed in a powerful 
 manner to perpetuate the war, by taking away all 
 hope from the vanquished. He fell at length the 
 victim to his humanity : approaching two Repub- 
 lican grenadiers, upon whom his party v/as pre- 
 paring to fall, he ran forward, exclaim- 
 ing, "Surrender! I give you quarter." Ji^''^^' 
 Hardly were the words uttered when the 
 men shot him dead on the spot. He was aged 
 only twenty-one years. When his soldiers had 
 buried hini where he fell, they exclaimed, " Now 
 the convention may indeed say that La Vendee 
 no longer exists. "+ 
 
 The Prince de Talmont about the same time 
 fell a victim to the Republican revenge. He 
 was made prisoner near Laval, and after being 
 led about in triumph from city to city for a con- 
 siderable time, was executed in the court of hi.s 
 own chateau. When brought before his judges, 
 he said, " Descended from the Latremouilles, the 
 son of the Lord of Laval, I was in duty bound to 
 serve the king ; and I will show in ray last mc?- 
 ments that I was worthy to defend the throne. 
 Sixt3'^-eight combats with the Republicans have 
 rendered me familiar with death." " You arc 
 an aristocrat, and I am a patriot," said the judge. 
 " Execute your office," replied he; " I have per- 
 formed my duty. "t His faithful servant was of- 
 
 * Jom., v., 265. Laroch., 402., 403. Beauch., ii., 347. 
 t Lac, XI., 178. Beauch., ii., 374, 375. Laroch., 406. 
 i Laroch., 398. Beauch., ii., 262, 263. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 271 
 
 fered his life, but he refused to survive liis mas- 
 ter, and followed him to the scaffold. 
 
 The execution of these gallant chiefs put an 
 Unhe!iril-or ^"'' ^^ '•'"^ ^^'"''' j)eriod of the Vendean 
 cruelties of war. It niiglit tlien have been termi- 
 the Kopub- nated, had the Republicans made a hu- 
 Jicans. iiiaiie use of their victory, and sheathed 
 the sword of conquest after it had destroyed its 
 enemies in the lieJd. But the darkest period of 
 the tragedy was approaching, and in the rear of 
 their armies came those hends in human form, 
 who exceeded even the horrors of Marat and 
 Robespierre, and have left a darker stain on 
 French history than tlie tyranny of Nero or the 
 massacre of Bartholomew. Their atrocities took 
 all hope from the vanquished; and in despair 
 and revenge sprung up a new set of Choltan 
 bands, who, under Charette, Stofflet, and Tinte- 
 niac, long maintained the Royalist cause in the 
 Western Provinces, and proved more fatal to the 
 Republicans than all the armies of Germany. 
 
 Thurreau was thelirstwho commenced against 
 Thurreau and t'lG Vendeans a systematic war of 
 the infornal extermination. He formed twelve 
 columns coips, aptly denominated infernal 
 
 colutiuis, whose orders were to traverse the coun- 
 try in every direction, isolate it from all commu- 
 nication with the rest of the world, carry off or 
 destroy all the grain and cattle, murder all the 
 inhabitants, and bum down all the houses. 
 These orders were too faithfully executed ; the 
 infernal columns pierced the country in eveiy di- 
 rection ; their path might be traced by the con- 
 flagration of villages, their footsteps kno\vn by 
 the corpses of the inhabitants. A contemporary 
 Republican writer has left this character of their 
 exploits : " It seemed as if the Vendeans were 
 no longer regarded as men ; the pregnant wom- 
 an, the child in the cradle, even the beasts of the 
 field, the very stones, the houses, the soil itself, 
 appeared to the Republicans enemies worthy of 
 a total extermination."* But from this atrocious 
 warfare arose new difhculties to the invaders. 
 From the consequences of their ravages, provis- 
 ions failed equally to them as their enemies; 
 and the Chouan bands were swelled by multi- 
 tudes who were driven to despair by the confla- 
 gration of their dwellings and the ma.ssacre of 
 their relations. Strengthened by such recruits, the 
 unconquerable Charette maintained the contest, 
 and often took a bloody revenge on his enemies. 
 Acquainted with every road and ambuscade in 
 the country, capable of enduring the extremities 
 of hunger, serene in danger, cheerful in misfor- 
 tune, affable with his soldiers, inexhaustible in 
 resources, invincible in resolution, he displayed 
 in that guerilla wariare the talents of a consum- 
 mate general. In vain Thurreau sent against him 
 General Plaxo, one of the ablest of the Republican 
 commanders ; his indefatigable opponent retired 
 before him till he arrived at a favourable place 
 of attack, and then turning to his men and order- 
 ing them to halt, "We have retired far enough," 
 said he ; " now is the time to show the conven- 
 tion that La Vendee still exists." With that 
 they precipitated themselves with such fury upon 
 their pursuers, that the column was broken and 
 put to flight, and General Haxo himself slain 
 while bravely endeavouring to restore the com- 
 bat.t 
 While Thurreau was pursuing with varied 
 
 * Toul., v., 199. Beauch., ii., 369. 
 
 t Jom., v., 266, 272, 273. Lac, xi., 174, 176. Beauch., 
 li., 369, 371, 410-418. Laroch.,414. 
 
 success the system of extermination 
 in La Vendee, the scaffold was erected ^^X^nt'es"' 
 at Nantes, and those inlernal execu- 
 tions commenced which have affixed a stain 
 upon the French Revolution, unequalled since 
 the beginning of the world. A Revolulionarj- 
 Tribunal was formed there, under the direction 
 of Carrier, and it soon outstripped even the rapid 
 march of Danton and Robespierre. " Their 
 principle," says the Republican historian, "was, 
 that it was necessary to destroy, en masse, all the 
 prisoners. At their command was form- 
 ed a corps called the Legion of Marat, ^afat" ' 
 composed of the most determined and 
 bloodthirsty of the Revolutionists, the members 
 of which were entitled, of their own authority, to 
 incarcerate any person whom they chose. The 
 number of their prisoners was soon between 
 three and four thousand, and they divided among 
 tliemselves all their property. Whenever a fresh 
 supply of captives was wanted, the alarm was 
 spread of a counter-revolution, the ginirak beat, 
 the cannon planted; and this was immediately 
 followed by innumerable arrests. Nor were 
 they long in disposing of their captives. The 
 miserable wretches were either slain with pon- 
 iards in the prisons, or carried out in a ves- 
 sel and drowned by wholesale in the Loire. 
 On one occasion, a hundred ' fanatical priests,' 
 as they were termed, were taken out together, 
 stripped of their clothes, and precipitated into 
 the waves. The same vessel served for many 
 of these noyades ; and the horror expressed by 
 many of the citizens for that mode of execution 
 formed the ground for fresh arrests and increas- 
 ed murders. Women big with child ; infants 
 eight, nine, and ten years of age, were thrown 
 together into the stream, on the sides of which, 
 men, anned with sabres, were placed to cut ofl" 
 their hands if the waves should throw them un- 
 drowned on the shore. The citizens, with loud 
 shrieks, implored the lives of the little innocents, 
 and numbers offered to adopt them as their own ; 
 but, though a few were granted to their urgent 
 entreaty, the greater part were doomed to de- 
 struction. Thus were consigned to the grave 
 whole generations at once ; the ornament of the 
 present, the hope of the future."* 
 
 On one occasion, by orders of Carrier, twen- 
 ty-three of the Royalists, on another, Carrier's Re- 
 twenty-four, were guillotined togeth- publican bap- 
 er without any trial. The execu- tismsandmar- 
 tioner remonstrated, but in vain, ""'^ff^^- 
 Amongthem were many children of seven or eight 
 years of age, and seven women; the executioner 
 died two or three days after, with horror at what 
 he himself had done. At another time, one hun- 
 dred and Ibrty women, incarcerated as suspected, 
 were drowned together, though actively engaged 
 in making bandages and shirts for the Republi- 
 can soldiers. So great was the multitude of cap- 
 tives who were brought in on all sides, that the ex- 
 ecutioners, as well as the company of Marat, de- 
 clared them.selves exhausted with fatigue; and 
 a new method of disposing of them was adopted, 
 borrowed from Nero, but improved on the plan 
 of that tyrant. A hundred, or a hundred and 
 fifty victims, for the most part women and chil- 
 dren, were crowded together in a boat, with a 
 concealed trapdoor in the bottom, which was 
 conducted into the middle of the Loire; at a sig- 
 nal given, the crew leaped into another boat, the 
 bolts were withdrawn, and the shrieking victims 
 
 Tool., v., 103, 104. Be!iuch.,ii., 279-281. Th.,Ti.,374 
 
272 
 
 HISTORY OF EUllOPE, 
 
 [Chap. XII. 
 
 precipitated into the waves amid the laughter of 
 the coinpan}' of Marat, who stood on tlie banktj 
 to cut down any who approached tlie shore. 
 This was what Carrier called his Jirpnblkan 
 Baptisms. 'IMie RcpiMican Marriages were, if 
 possible, a siill greater refinement of cruelr\^ 
 Two persons of dillercnt sexes, general!}' an old 
 man and an old woman, or a young man and a 
 young woman, bereft of every species of diess, 
 were bound together, and after being left in tor- 
 ture in that situation lor half an hour, thrown into 
 the river. It was ascertained by authentic docu- 
 ments tliat six hundred children had perished by 
 that inhuman species of death ; and such was 
 the quantity of corpses accumulated in the 
 Loire, that the water of that river was infected 
 so as to render a public ordinance necessar}', for- 
 bidding the uss of it to the inhabitants ;* and the 
 mariners, when they heaved their anchors, fre- 
 quently brought up boats charged with corpses. 
 Birds of prey flocked to the shores and fed on 
 human flesh ; while the very fish became so poi- 
 sonous as to induce an order of the municipality 
 of Nantes, prohibiting them to be taken by the 
 tishermen.t 
 
 The scenes in the prisons which preceded these 
 Dreadful horrid executions exceeded all that 
 scenes in romance had figured of the terrible, 
 the prisons. Many women died of terror the mo- 
 ment a man entered their cells, conceiving that 
 they were about to be led out to the noyades ; 
 the floors were covered with the bodies of their 
 infants, numbers of whom were yet quivering 
 in the agonies of death. On one occasion, the 
 inspector entered the prison to seek for a child, 
 where, the evening before, he had left above three 
 hundred infants; they were all gone in the morn- 
 ing, having been drowned the preceding night. 
 To all the representations of the citizens in fa- 
 vour ofthe.se innocent victims. Carrier answered, 
 "They are all vipers; let them be stifled."' Three 
 hundred young women of Nantes were drowned 
 by him in one night ; so far from having had any 
 share in political discussions, they were of the 
 unfortunate class who live by the pleasures of 
 others. Several hundred persons were thrown 
 every night, for some months, into the river : 
 their shrieks at being led out of the entrepot on 
 board the barks wakened all the inhabitants of 
 the town, and froze everj^ heart with horror. 
 Fifteen thousand persons perished there under the 
 hands of the executioner, or of diseases in pris- 
 on, in one month; the total victims of the Reign 
 of Terror at that place exceeded thirty thousand.^ 
 
 The peasants, both men and women, of La 
 Vendee, met death, in general, with the most he- 
 roic courage; they perished boldly avowing their 
 opinions, and exclaiming, " Vive le roi ! nous 
 allons en Paradis." Innumerable instances of 
 heroism occurred, especially among the female 
 sufferers. Madame de Jourdain was led out to 
 be drowned with her three daughters : a soldier 
 wished to save the youngest, who was very 
 beautiful : she threw herself into the water to 
 share the fate of her mother, but, falling on a 
 heap of dead, could not sink. '• JPush me in," 
 she exclaimed; "the water is not deep enough," 
 and sunk beneath his thrust. Mademoiselle 
 Cuissan, aged sixteen, of still greater beauty, 
 exciled the most vehement admiration in a)-oung 
 
 * Beanch., ii., 281, 283. Th., vi., 373. Lac, xii., 164, 
 165. Toul., v., 104, 105-120. t Th., W., 374. 
 
 t Toul., v., 119, 120. Laroch., 394. Beauch., li., 284, 
 285. Th., vi., 374. Prudhomme, Vict, de la Revolution. 
 Chateaubriand, Etud. Hist,, i., Prof., 45. 
 
 ofiicer of hussars, who spent three hours at her 
 feet entreating her to allow him to save her; but 
 as he could not undertake to free an aged parent, 
 the partner of her captivity, she relused lile, and 
 threw herself into the Loire along with her 
 mother.* 
 
 Agatha Larochejaquelein escaped in the most 
 extraordinary manner. She had left Adventures 
 an asylum, in a cottage at Brittany, ,',f A^aiUa 
 in consequence of one of the deceitful l.arocheja- 
 amnesties which the Republicans pub- 'i"clem. 
 lished to lure their victims from their places of 
 concealment, and was seized and brought beibre 
 Lamberty, one of the ferocious satellites of Car- 
 rier, Her beauty excited his admiration, "Are 
 you afraid, brigand T' said he, " No, general," 
 replied the worthy inheritrix of her name. 
 " When you feel fear," said he, " send for Lam- 
 berty," When brought to the entrepot, seeing 
 death approaching, she recollected his words, 
 and sent for the general. He took her out alone 
 at night into a little boat on the Loire, with a 
 concealed trap, which Canier had given him 
 for his private murders, and wished to sacrifice 
 her to his desires ; she resisted, upon which he 
 threatened to drown her ; but she, anticipating 
 him, flew to the side to throw herself into the 
 river. The Republican was softened : " You 
 are a brave girl," said he; "I will save you." 
 In eflect, he left her concealed at the bottom of 
 the boat, among some bushes on the margin of 
 the stream, where she lay for eight days and 
 nights a witness to the unceasing nocturnal mas- 
 sacre of her fellow-prisoners. At length she 
 was taken from her place of concealment, and 
 secreted with a man of the name of Sullivan, 
 who resolved to save her, from horror at a mur- 
 der which h.e had committed on his own broth- 
 er, whom he had denounced as a Vendean to the 
 Republican authorities. The intelligence, how- 
 ever, of his humanity got wind, and Lamberty 
 was accused some time aftem-ard of having sa- 
 ved some women from the noyades. To pre- 
 vent the evidence of this in Agatha's case, she 
 was seized by a friend of Lamberty of the name 
 of Robin, who carried her into a boat, where he 
 was proceeding to poniard her, in order to extin- 
 guish any trace of his having facilitated her es- 
 cape, when her beauty again subdued the ruth- 
 less murderer. She threw herself at his feet, and 
 prevailed on him to save her life. She was 
 again arrested, however, in the place where he 
 had concealed her, and would certainly have 
 been guillotined, had not the fall of Robespierre 
 suspended the executions, and ultimately resto- 
 red her to liberty.t 
 
 The fate of Madame de Bonchamps was not 
 less remarkable. After the rout at And Ma- 
 Mans, she lived, like all the other wives dame de 
 of the ofiicers and generals, on the Bonchamps. 
 charitv of the peasants in Brittany, whose cour- 
 age and devotion no misfortunes could diminish. 
 They at once told their names and connexions ; 
 the faithful people received them with tears of 
 joy, and not only concealed them in their dwell- 
 ings, but stinted themselves in their meals to 
 furnish them with provisions. For several days, 
 when the pursuit was hottest, she was conceal- 
 ed, with her infant child, in the thick foliage of 
 an oak-tree, at the foot of which the Republican 
 soldiers were frequently passing ; a cough or a 
 cr\' from the infant would have betrayed them 
 both; but the little creature, though suffering un- 
 
 * Laroch., 392, 393. 
 
 t Laroch,, 394-396. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 273 
 
 der a painful malady, never uttered a groan ; 
 and both mother and child tVcqiiently slept in 
 peace for hours, when the hayonels oi their pur- 
 suers were visible through the openings ot the 
 leaves. At night, when the enemy were asleep, 
 the little children of the cottagers brought them 
 provisions; and occasionally some old soldier.s 
 of her husband's army hazarded their lives to 
 render them assistance. She was at length ar- 
 rested, and brought before the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal at Nantes ; the recollection of the five 
 thousand captives, whose lives tlie dying hero 
 had saved, could not save his widow from a 
 unanimous condemnation. The atrocious cru- 
 elly of this proceeding, however, e.\cited so much 
 commiseration among the numerous survivers 
 who had been saved by his clemency, that the 
 vehemence of their remonstrances obtained a 
 respite from the judges; during which, the peas- 
 ants who had protected her little girl sent her to 
 the prison, and the mother had the delight of 
 hearing her infant pray every night and morning 
 at her bedside for lier health and deliverance. 
 At length, after a long captivity, she obtained 
 her liberation ; her daughter was intrusted with 
 presenting the petition to the court; and even 
 the judges of the Revolutionaiy Tribunal could 
 not withstand the touching appeal made to them 
 by the little child in behalf of its captive parent.*t 
 
 "The poor people,"' says Larochejaquelein, 
 Cruclt - of " ^'^ Nantes were exceedingly kind, 
 the small and did their utmost to save the victims 
 shopkeep- of the Revolution ; all the rich mer- 
 ers m tho chants also were humane ; for, though 
 towns. jj^gy 1^^^ ^^ ^j.^j supported the Revolu- 
 tion, yet they were soon shocked with its crimes, 
 and, in coi.:equenee, were persecuted as well as 
 the Royalists ; one hundred and nine of them 
 were sent up to Paris for trial, and only saved 
 by the fall of Robespierre. The ferocious class 
 who lent their aid to tiie massacres and the noy- 
 ades was composed of the little shopkeepers and 
 more opulent of the artisans, many of whom came 
 from other towns besides Nantes;"j words of vast 
 political importance, as designating the class in 
 whom revolutionary fervour is ever most violent, 
 and by whom its principal atrocities are com- 
 mitted. 
 
 But if humanity has cause to blush for the atro- 
 Heroic benev- cious cruelty of the tradesmen in the 
 olence of the towns of Brittau}', it may dwell with 
 countr>- pea-s- unalloyed delight on the generous 
 *°'^- hospitality of "the peasants in the 
 
 count^}^ The experience theynad acquired in 
 concealing the priests, and the young men re- 
 quired for the conscription, rendered them ex- 
 ceedingly expert at eluding the search of their 
 
 * Bonch., 72, 87. 
 
 t A singular incident attended the piesentinsr of this pe- 
 tition. The little girl, who was only six years old, went up 
 to the judges and presented the paper, sa\nig', "Citizens, 
 1 am come to ask the pardon of mamma." Casting their 
 eyes on the paper, they lieheld the name of Gonohanips, and 
 one of them, addressing? her, said he would give her the par 
 don if she would sing one other best songs, as he knew she 
 had a voice which charmed all the inmates of the prison. 
 Upon this, she sang with a loud voice the words she had 
 heard from sixty thousand men on the field of battle : 
 " Vive, vive le roi ! 
 A has la Republique !" 
 
 Had she been a little older, these words would have con- 
 demned both herself and her mother ; but the simplicity 
 with which they were uttered disarmed their wrath ; they 
 smiled, and, after some obstrvations on thu detestable edu- 
 cation which these fanatical Royalists gave to their chil- 
 dren, dismissed her with the pardon she desired.* 
 
 t Laroch.. 391, 392. 
 
 Vol. I.— M m 
 
 • iloBCtl., 87. 
 
 enemies. Numbers were shot for giving an asy- 
 lum to the Vcnd6ans; but nothing could check 
 their courageous humanity. Alike men, women, 
 and children displayed unbounded goodness and 
 inexhaustible resources. A poor girl, deaf and 
 dumb, had been made to comprehend the dan- 
 gers of the Royalists, and incessantly warned 
 them by signs when their enemies were ap- 
 proaching. Neither menaces of death nor offers 
 of gold could shake the fidelity of the youngest 
 children. The dogs even had contracted an aver- 
 sion to the Republicans, who always used them 
 harshly; they barked invariably at their ap- 
 proach, and were thus the means of saving great 
 numbers. On the other hand, they never uttered 
 a sound when the Royalist fugitives were to be 
 seen, taught by the peasants to do nothing that 
 could betray them. There was not a cottage in 
 the whole country where a fugitive might not 
 present himself at any hour with perfect securi- 
 ty ; if they could not conceal them, they gave 
 them food, and guided them on their road. For 
 none of these perilous services would they accept 
 any reward; they were even seriously ofiended 
 if any was offered.* 
 
 On reviewing the histor\' of this melancholy 
 
 wai', nothing is so remarkable as the t> a ,■ 
 
 ,'. . >^ . . . , , , Keilections on 
 
 prodigious Victories gained by the the extraordi- 
 peasants in so sequestered a district, nary success 
 and the near approach they made to °f 'he Vend6- 
 the re-establishment of the monar- ^"^' 
 chy, contrasted with the feeble efforts and com- 
 paratively bloodless actions of the great military 
 powers which combated on the frontier. With- 
 out the aid of mountains, fortresses, or an)' of the 
 ordinarj' resources of war, undisciplined and in- 
 experienced, destitute of cavalr}', artillery, or mil- 
 itary stores, without either magazines or money, 
 they did more towards the overtlirow of the Rev- 
 olution than all the vast armies which Europe 
 had assembled tor its destruction. While the vic- 
 tories of the allies or the Republicans were never 
 attended with the loss of more than three or four 
 thousand men to their opponents, and seldom led 
 to any other result than the overrunning of a 
 province or the reduction of a fortress, the tri- 
 umphs of the Vendeans dissipated whole annies, 
 were signalized often by the loss often and fifteen 
 thousand men to the Republicans, made them 
 masters of vast parks of artillery, and but for the 
 inability of the chiefs to keep the peasants to their 
 colours after any great success, would, by the ad- 
 mission of the Republicans themselves, have re- 
 established the throue.t We pass at once, in the 
 same vear, from the battles of Pamars and Kay- 
 serslautern, to the triumphs of Marengo and Ho- 
 henlinden. Such were the astonishing results 
 of the enthusiastic valour which the strong feel- 
 ings of religion and loyalty produced in this gal- 
 lant people ; such the magnitude of the result, 
 when, instead of cold calculation, vehement pas- 
 sion was brought into action. 
 
 On the other hand, the ultimate result of this 
 contest, notwithstanding the heroic And the cause 
 efforts of the peasantry', is the strong- of their disas- 
 est proof of the inability of mere val- '<'"• 
 our, unaided by discipline, experience, and mili- 
 tarv resources, to contend permanently with a reg- 
 ular government. No future insurrection can be 
 expected to display greater bravery, none be ani- 
 mated with a stronger spirit, none gain more glo- 
 rious successes, than that of La Vendee. Yet all 
 
 * Laroch., 350, 351. Beauch., ii., 267, 268. 
 t Jom., Ti., 400. 
 
274 
 
 was unavailing. This great example should al- 
 ways be kept in mind in f-alculating on the prob- 
 able results of popular enthusiasm, when oppo- 
 sed to the systematic elibrts of discipline and 
 organization. It was the want of these which 
 proved fatal to the Vendeans. Had they pos- 
 sessed two or three fortified towns, they might 
 have repaired, under their shelter, all their disas- 
 ters ; had they been masters of a regular army, 
 they might have improved their victories into 
 lasting conquests. The want of these two things 
 rendered their triumphs unproductive of real ad- 
 vantages, and their defeats the forerunner of ir- 
 reparable ruin. The war at a subsequent period, 
 in Tyrol and Spain, demonstrated the same truth; 
 while the durable successes of the Portuguese 
 and Russian campaigns showed the vast re- 
 sults which arise from ingrafting the vigour of 
 popular enthusiasm on the steady courage of 
 regular forces. The conclusion to be dra^vn 
 from this is, not that popular feeling can eflect 
 no lasting achievement, and that everything in 
 war depends on military organization, but that it 
 is the combination of the two which is requisite 
 to permanent success. In 1793, the discipline of 
 Austria and Russia on the Rhine could effect 
 nothing, because it was not animated by a vehe- 
 ment .spirit ; while the enthusiasm of La Vendee 
 withered, because it was unsupported by regular 
 organization. In 1812, the Russians combined 
 both to resist the attack of an enemy tenfold great- 
 er, and the campaign of Moscow was the conse- 
 quence. 
 
 But, though La Vendee fell, her blood was not 
 shed in vain. The sword of the conqueror sub- 
 
 IIISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [CH.iP. xm. 
 
 dues the bodies, but it is often the Vendean war 
 heroism of the vanquished which finally com- 
 subjugates the minds of men, and nuts the Revo- 
 achieves conquests of eternal dura- lut'on against 
 tion. The throne of Cassar has pass- '"''''S'on- 
 ed away ; but the blood of the Christian martyrs 
 cemented a fabric of eternal duration ; the tyran- 
 ny of Mary for a time crushed the religious free- 
 dom of England, but Latimer and Ridley lighted 
 a fire which will never be extinguished, from 
 the ashes of La Vendee has sprung the spirit 
 which hurled Napoleon from his throne, and is 
 destined to change the face of the moral world. 
 It first put the cause of Revolution openly and 
 irrevocably at war with that of religion ; the 
 friends of real freedom may thank it for perma- 
 nently enlisting on their side a power which will 
 never be subdued. From the atrocious severities 
 of the Republican sway in this devoted province, 
 has arisen the profound hatred of all the believers 
 in the Christian faith at their rule, and the stub- 
 born spirit which v/as ever)Tvhere roused to re- 
 sist it; the desolation of the Bocage was avenged 
 by the charnel house of Spain ; the horrors of 
 the Loire have been forgotten in the passage of 
 the Berezina. Periods of suifering are in the end 
 seldom lost either to the cause of truth or the 
 moral discipline of nations ; it is the sunshine of 
 prosperity which spreads the fatal corniption. 
 Christianity withered under the titled hierarchy, 
 but she shone forth in spotless purity from the 
 revolutionary agonies of France ; and that celes- 
 tial origin which was obscured by the splendour 
 of a prosperous, has been revealed in the virtues 
 of a suffering age. 
 
 !l 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1793. PART II. 
 
 FROM THE ROUT IN THE CAMP OF CESAR TO THE CONCLUSION OF THE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Principles of Carnot for the Conduct of the War.— Aided by 
 the Effects of the Revolation. — Vigorous Measures of the 
 Government. — Their Efforts to rouse the whole Popula- 
 tion. — Great Levy of 1,200,000 Men ordered, and carried 
 into effect.— Camot, War Minister. — His Character. — ■ 
 Retirement of Kaunitz at Vienna. — Appointment of Thu- 
 gut. — His Character and first Measures. — Incipient Divis- 
 ions of Prussia and Austria. — Recognition of the Maritime 
 Law by the Allies. — Absurd Policy of the Allied Powers. 
 — The English insist upon dividing the Army. — Its ruin- 
 ous Consequences. — Tliey march to Dunkirk, and the Im- 
 perialists to Quesnoy. — CJuesnoy falls, but the Siege of 
 Dunkirk is raised by the French. — Bad Consequences of 
 this Disaster. — The Republicans do not follow up their 
 Success with Vigour, and Houchard is arrested. — Mau- 
 beuge is Besieged. — Jourdan takes the Command of the 
 Army. — Finn Conduct of the Convention. — Jourdan ap- 
 proaches to raise the Siege.— Battle of Watignies.— Re- 
 treat of the Allies, and raising of the Siege. — Conclusion 
 of the Campaign in Flanders. — Both Parties go into Win- 
 ter-quarters. — Pichegru appointed to the Command of 
 the Republicans. — Campaign on the Rhine. — Inactivity 
 of the Prussians. — Frencii defeated at Pirmasenz, and 
 their Lines are stormed at Wiessenberg with a total Rout. 
 Leads to no Results.— Fort Vaubau taken, and Lan- 
 dau blockaded by the Allies. — Cruel Revenge of the 
 French in Alsace. —Divisions between the Prussians 
 and Austnans. — Able Measures of the French: they 
 drive the Allies over the Rhine, and raise the Blockade 
 of Landau. — Campaign on the Spanish Frontier.— On the 
 Bidassoa, and Eastern Pyrenees.— Invasion of Roussil- 
 lon by the Spaniards.— they are defeated.— Battle of 
 Truellas, and Defeat of the French.— Second Rout of the 
 French, who fall back to Perpignan.— Campaign in the 
 Maritime Alps.— Feeble Inuption of the Piedmontese on 
 the Side of Chamb6rry.— Great Discontents in the South of 
 
 France. — Abortive Insurrection at Marseilles. — Revolt at 
 Toulon, which opens its Gates to the English.- Revolt 
 and Siege of Lytms. — Great Efforts of the Republicans for 
 its Reduction.— Bombardment of the City, and Cruelty of 
 the Besiegers. — Dreadful Sufferings of the Inhabitants. — 
 Their heroic Efforts.— Precy forces his Way through the 
 Besiegers' Line. — Town capitulates.— Sanguinary Meas- 
 ures of the Convention to the Inhabitants. — Collot d'ller- 
 bois' Proceedings. — His atrocious Cruelty. — Terrible 
 Measures of the Revolutionary Tribunal there.— Metril- 
 lades of the Prisoners. — Vast Numbers who thus perish- 
 ed.— Siege of Toulon. — Allies assemble for its Defence. — 
 Progress of the Siege. — Decisive Measures of Napoleon. 
 — Capture of the exterior Forts. — Despair of the Inhab- 
 itants. — Burning of the Arsenal and Fleet. — Horrors of 
 the Evacuation.— Dreadful Cruelty of the Republicans. — 
 General Reflectioo.s on the Issue of the Campaign. 
 
 "Carnot," said Napoleon, "has organized 
 victory." It was the maxim of this camofs pnn- 
 great man, " That nothing was so ciples for con- 
 easy as to find excellent officers in ducting the 
 all ranks, if they were only chosen ""'*''• 
 according to their capacity and their courage. 
 For this reason, he took the utmost pains to 
 make himself acquainted with their names and 
 character; and such was the extent of his in- 
 formation, that it was rare for a soldier of merit 
 to escape him, even though only a simple private. 
 He deemed it impossible that an army, com- 
 manded by officers chosen exclusively from a 
 limited class of society, could long maintain a 
 contest with one led by those chosen with dis- 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 275 
 
 cemment from the inferior ranks. Such com- 
 manders as Turcnne and Condc seemed too rare 
 to be calculated upon with any degree of cer- 
 tainty from a privileged class, while the mine 
 of talent which lay hid in the lower stages of 
 society presented inexhaustible resources."* 
 
 This principle, being founded on the eternal 
 laws of nature, is of universal application. It 
 constitutes the great superiority of Republican 
 over monarchical forces; and, when once ar- 
 mies have been organized and thoroughly disci- 
 plined on this looting, they never can be suc- 
 cessfully resisted but by troops in whom the 
 same military virtues have been developed. 
 Supposing the abilities of the higher orders to be 
 equal to those of an equal number in the inferi- 
 or, it is impossible that they can ever produce as 
 great a mass of talent as will emerge on a free 
 competition from the numerous ranks of their 
 humble competitors. A hundred thousand men 
 can never produce as many energetic characters 
 as ten millions. 
 
 The French Revolution, by opening the career 
 Aided by the of talent to all ranks indiscriminate- 
 eflFectsof the ly, and affording the means of eleva- 
 Revolution. tion, in a peculiar manner, to the 
 most energetic and audacious characters, was 
 eminently favourable to the growth of military 
 prowess. The distress consequent on the clo- 
 sing of so many branches of industiy, the agita- 
 tion arising Irom the dissolution of all the bonds 
 of society, the restless habits acquired hy suc- 
 cessful revolt, all conspired to spread a taste for 
 military exploit, and fill the ranks of the army 
 •with needy but ardent adventurers. Such dis- 
 positions are always prevalent during civil dis- 
 sensions, because it is the nature of such con- 
 flicts to awaken the passions, and disqualify for 
 the habits of ordinary life. But they were in an 
 especial manner excited by the campaign of 
 1793, first by the call which resounded through 
 P g France to defend the state, and next by 
 the thirst for military glory which sprang 
 up by the defeat of the invasion. 
 
 When invasion had on every side pierced the 
 Vigorous meas- territory of France, and civil war 
 ures of the gov- tore its bosom, the government took 
 ernmeut. the most energetic measures to 
 
 meet the danger. The convention had armed 
 the Committee of Public Safety with a power 
 more terrible than had ever been wielded by an 
 Eastern conqueror ; and the decrees of the legis- 
 lature corresponded to the energy of their meas- 
 ures. They felt, in the language of Danton, 
 " That the head of Lotiis was the terrible gaunt- 
 let which they had thrown down to the monarchs 
 of Europe : that life or death was in the strug- 
 gle." The whole power of France was called 
 forth ; ten thousand committees, spread over ev- 
 ery part of the country, carried into execution 
 the despotic mandates of the Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety, and its resistless powers wrung not 
 less out of its sufferings than its patriotism the 
 means of successful resistance.f 
 
 No situation could be more perilous than that 
 in which the Revolutionary government was 
 now placed. No less than '280,000 men were in 
 the field on the side of the allies, from Basle to 
 Dunkirk; the ancient barrier of France was 
 broken by the capture of Valenciennes and 
 Conde; Mayence gave the invaders a secure 
 passage into the heart of the countiy; while 
 Toulon and Lyons had raised the standard of 
 
 * Caniot, 31, 32. 
 
 t Jom., iii., 25. Th., v., 207. Mig., i., 248. 
 
 revolt, and a devouring fire consumed the heart 
 of the western provinces. Sixty thousand insur- 
 gents in La Vendee threatened Paris in the rear, 
 while 180,000 allies in front seemed prepared to 
 encamp under its walls. The forces of the Re- 
 public were not only inferior in number, but 
 their discipline and equipment were in the most 
 dilapidated state.* 
 
 All the deficiencies of the Republic in num- 
 bers and organization were speedilv -ru ■ «• 
 supplied by the extraordinary energy to rouse the 
 and ability which rose to the head of whole popu- 
 military afi'airs after the insurrection 'ation. 
 of the 31st of May and the establishment of the 
 Committee of Public Safet3^ Barere, 
 on the part of that able body, declared 1%^^^'' 
 in the assembly, " Liberty has become 
 the creditor of every citizen : some owe it their 
 industry, others their fortune; some their coun- 
 cils, others their arms — all their liv-es. Every 
 native of France, of whatever age or sex, is call- 
 ed to the defence of his counti^-. All moral and 
 physical powers, all political and industrial re- 
 sources, are at its command. Let every one, 
 then, occupy his post in the grand national and 
 military movement which is in preparation. 
 The young men will march to the frontiers ; the 
 more advanced forge the arn^s, ti-ansport the bag- 
 gage and artillery, or provide the subsistence re- 
 quisite for their defence. The women will make 
 the tents, the dresses of the soldiers, and cany 
 their beneficent labours into the interior of the 
 hospitals : even the hands of infancy may be use- 
 fully employed ; and the aged, imitating the ex- 
 ample of ancient virtue, will cause themselves 
 to be transported into the public places, to ani- 
 mate the youth by their exhortations and their 
 example. Let the national edifices be convert- 
 ed into barracks, the public squares into work- 
 shops, the cellars into manufactories of saltpe- 
 tre ; let the saddle-horses be furnished for the cav- 
 alry, the draught-horses for the artillery; the 
 fowling-pieces, the swords and pikes, will suffice 
 for the service of the interior. The Republic is 
 a besieged city ; all its territoiy must become a 
 vast camp." These energetic measures were 
 not only adopted by the assembly, but immedi- 
 ately carried into execution. France ,-. .i 
 , -' . , , ure.it levy 
 
 became an immen.se workshop, re- of 1,200,000 
 sounding with the note of military men ordered 
 preparation; the roads were covered and executed, 
 with conscripts ha.stening to the different points 
 of assembly ; fourteen armies, and 1,200,000 sol- 
 diers, were soon under arms. The whole prop- 
 erty of the state, by means of confiscations, and the 
 forced circulation of assignats, was put at the 
 disposal of the government ; the insurgent popu- 
 lation everj'where threw the better classes into 
 captivity, while bands of Revolutionary ruffians, 
 paid by the state, perambulated every village in 
 its territory, and wrung from the terrified inhab- 
 itants unqualified submission to the despotic Re- 
 public. At the same time, the means of raising 
 .supplies were provided with equal energy. All 
 the old claims on the state were converted into 
 a great Revolutionary debt, in which the new 
 could not be distinguished from the ancient cred- 
 itors. A forced tax of a milliard, or i>40,000,000 
 sterling, was instantly ordered to be levied from 
 the rich, which was realized in paper, secured at 
 once on the national domains. As the prices of 
 every article, even those of the first necessity 
 were altogether deranged by these measures, and 
 
 * Jom., iv., 21, 24. Th., v., 170. 
 
276 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIIL 
 
 the prospect of famine was ever}'where immedi- 
 ate, the municipalities throughout France were 
 invested with the power of seizing subsistence, 
 and merchandise of every kind, in the hands of 
 the owners, and compelling their sale for a fixed 
 price in assignats ; in other words, taking them 
 lor an elusory payment. The great object of all 
 these measures was at once to repel the foreign 
 invasion, and render the national domains an im- 
 mediate fund of income, at a time when purchas- 
 ers could not be found ; and it must be confessed, 
 that never did a government adopt such vast and 
 energetic measures to attain these objects.* 
 
 Fear became the great engine for filling the 
 ranks: the bayonets of the allies appeared less 
 formidable than the guillotine of the convention ; 
 and safety, despaired of everywhere else, was 
 found alone in the armies on the frontier. The 
 destruction of property, the ruin of industry, the 
 agonies of millions, appeared as nothing to men 
 who wielded the engines of the Revolution; for- 
 tune or wealth have no weight with those who 
 are engaged in a struggle of life and death.t 
 
 By a strange combination of circumstances, 
 the ruin of commercial credit, the loss of the col- 
 onies, the stagnation of industry, the drying up 
 of the sources of opulence, augmented the pres- 
 ent resources of the government. Ruling an im- 
 poverished and bankrupt state, the convention 
 was for the time the richest power in Europe. 
 Despotism, it is true, dries up the sources of fu- 
 ture wealth ; but it gives a command of present 
 resources which no regular government can ob- 
 tain. The immense debts of government were 
 paid in paper money, issued at no expense, and 
 bearing a lorced circulation ; the numerous con- 
 fiscations gave a shadow of security to its en- 
 gagements ; the terrible right of requisition put 
 every remnant of private wealth at its disposal ; 
 the conscription filled the army with all the youth 
 of the state ; terror and famine impelled volun- 
 tary multitudes into its ranks. Before them was 
 the garden of hope, behind them a howling wil- 
 derne.ss. 
 
 At the head of the military' department was 
 Carnot, war placed Carnot, a man whose extraor- 
 minister. dinary and unbending character con- 
 
 His character, tributed more than any other circum- 
 stance to the early success of the Revolutionary' 
 wars. Austere in character, unbending in dis- 
 position. Republican in principle, he more nearly 
 resembled the patriots of antiquity than any oth- 
 er statesman in modern times. It was his mis- 
 fortune to be associated with Robespierre in the 
 Committee of Public Safety during the whole 
 of the Reign of Terror, and his name, in conse- 
 quence, stands affixed to many of the worst acts 
 of that sanguinary tyrant; but he has solemnly 
 asserted, and his character entitles the allegation 
 to attention, that in the pressure of business he 
 signed these documents without knowing what 
 they contained, and that he saved more lives by 
 his entreaties than his colleagues destroyed by 
 their severity.: He was the creator of the new 
 military art in France, which Dumourier was 
 only permitted to sketch, and Napoleon brought 
 to perfection. Simple in his manners, unosten- 
 tatious in his habits, incorruptible in his inclina- 
 tions, he was alike superior to the love of wealth, 
 the weakness of inferior, and the passion for 
 power, the infirmity of noble minds. When call- 
 
 ed to the post of danger by the voice of his coun- 
 try, he never declined the peril : disdaining to 
 court Napoleon in the plenitude of his power, 
 and alone voting against his imperial crown, he 
 fled to his assistance in the hour of distress, and 
 tendered the aid to a falling which he had refu- 
 sed to a conquering monarch. Intrusted with 
 the dictatorship of the armies, he justified his 
 country's choice by victory ; superior even to the 
 triumphs he had won, he resigned with pleasure 
 the possession of power to exercise his under- 
 standing in the abstract sciences, or renovate his 
 heart by the impressions of coimtry life. Al- 
 most alone of the illustrious men of the age, his 
 character has emerged comparatively luitainted 
 from the Revolutionary caldron; and history- 
 has to record, with the pride due to real great- 
 ness, that after having wielded irresistible Ibrce, 
 and withstood unfettered power, he died poor and 
 unbefriended in a foreign land.* 
 
 It was in the extraordinary energy and ability 
 of the Committee of Public Safety, t joined to the 
 ferment excited by the total overthrow of society, 
 and the despotic power wielded by the conven- 
 tion, that the real secret is to be found of the 
 successful resistance by Finance to the formida- 
 ble invasion of 1793. The inability of Napoleon 
 to resist a similar attack in 1815, demonstrates 
 this important truth, and should be a warning to 
 future ages not to incur the same risk, in the 
 hope of obtaining a similar triumph. Superior 
 in militar}' talent, heading a band of veterans, 
 supported by a terrible name, he sought in vain 
 to communicate to the Empire the energy which, 
 under their iron grasp, had been brought into ac- 
 tion in the Republic: A rational being will 
 never succeed in equalling the strength v/hich, 
 in a transport of frenzy, a madman can exert. 
 
 While such extraordinarj' and unheard-of ef- 
 forts were making in France to resist Retirement 
 the invasion with which they were of Kaunitz 
 menaced, a change, fraught in its ulti- ^^ Vienna, 
 mate results with important consequences, took 
 place in the imperial government. Kaunitz, so 
 long at the head of the Austrian cabinet, had 
 survived his age ; his cautious habits, veteran 
 experience, and great abilities were inadequate 
 to supply the want of that practical acquaintance 
 with affairs which arises from having grown up 
 under their influence. The French Revolution 
 had opened up a new era in human affairs ; the 
 old actors, how distinguished soever, were unac- 
 quainted with the novel machinerj^, and unfit to 
 play their parts in the mighty drama which was 
 approaching. The veteran Austrian diplomatist 
 retired from the helm, full of years, and loaded 
 with honours, from a prudent disinclination to 
 risk his great reputation in the stormy scenes 
 which had already arisen. § 
 
 He was succeeded in the direction of foreign 
 
 affairs bv Thugut, who long kept oo u >,r ^. 
 
 ^ ., ', , J ■" .if 28lh March, 
 
 possession oi the helm dunng the 1793 Thu- 
 
 Revolutionarv' war. The son of a tnit foreign 
 poor boatman at Lintz, he had, by the minister at 
 industrj' of his parents, been early ^■<="'^^- 
 placed at the school of Oriental Languages at 
 Vienna, where his diligence and abilities attract- 
 ed the notice of the Empress Maria Theresa. 
 She recommended him to the direc- 
 tor of the college, and at the age of 
 
 His character. 
 
 • ITard., 278. Mig., ii.. 28r. Jom., ir., 22, 23. Th., v., 
 207,208. t .lom., iv.,21. Hard., n., 279. 
 
 t Camot's Memoirs, 330. 
 
 * Thib., i., 37. Carnot, 255. Dum., iv.. 5. 6. 
 
 t Their names were at first Darere, Ue'.mas, Breard, 
 Cambon, Debry, Danton, Gnytou Moneaii, Tralliard, and 
 Lacroix. — See Hard., li., 772. 
 
 t Jom.,iii.,6. Hard., li., 278. « Hard., ii., 259, 260. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 277 
 
 fifteen he was attached as interpreter to the Aus- 
 trian embassy at Constantinople, from whence he 
 gradually rose in the diplomatic line to the port- 
 I'olio ol' foieign ati'airs. Though he had long 
 resided at Paris, and was intimately connected 
 with Mirabeau, whose conversion to the court 
 was partly owing to his exertions, he maintained 
 throughout his career an inflexible hostility to 
 Republican principles ; and though his combi- 
 nations were not always crowned with success, 
 his bitterest enemies cannot deny him the credit 
 of a truly patriotic spirit., an energetic character, 
 prolbund skill in diplomacy.* and a fidelity to his 
 engagements, as unusual as it was honourable in 
 tliose days of weakness and tergiversation. 
 
 His accession to ollice was soon followed by 
 And first an evident increase of vigour in diplo- 
 measures. matic measures. Pressing notes to the 
 inferior German powers brought about the equip- 
 ment of that tardy and inefficient force, the Ger- 
 22a March, manic Contingents ; while a menacing 
 1793. proclamation from the Diet of Ratisbon 
 
 prohibited all circulation of French assignats or 
 Revolutionary writings, and ordered the imme- 
 diate departure from their territory of all subjects 
 of that country who could not give a sufficient 
 reason for the'ir residence. But, though these 
 measures might be well calculated to i)revent 
 the inundation of the Empire with Democratic 
 principles, it was with very different weapons 
 that the formidable army which had grown up 
 out of the agonies of the Republic required to be 
 combated.t 
 
 At the time, however, that the zeal of Austria 
 Incipient Uivi- '"''^^ ^^""^ Warming in the common 
 Bions of Prtts- cau.se, that of Prussia was rapidly 
 eia and Xns- cooling ; and to the lukewarmness 
 ^"■^- and indilference of this power in the 
 
 contest with France, more than to any other 
 cause, the extraordinary success which lor some 
 years attended the Rejmblican arms is to be as- 
 cribed. The selfish ambition of the cabinets 
 of Vienna, SL Petersburg, and Berlin, was the 
 cause of this unhappy disunion. Hardly was 
 the ink of the treaty ol the 14th of July with Great 
 Britain dry, when the hoisting of the Austrian 
 flag on the walls of Valenciennes and Conde 
 opened the eyes of the Prussian ministry to the 
 projects of aggrandizement which were enter- 
 tained by the imperial cabinet, and which Thu- 
 gut supported with his whole talents and influ- 
 ence. Irritated and chagrined at this prospect 
 of material accession of power to their dreaded 
 rival, the cabinet of Berlin derived some conso- 
 lation from the completion of their arrangements 
 with the Empress Catharine for the partition of 
 Poland, in virtue of which the Prussian force 
 had recently taken possession of Danizic, with its 
 noble harbour and fortifications, besides Thorn, 
 and a large circumjacent territorv, to the no small 
 annoyance of Austria, whicli saw itself excluded 
 Irom all share in the projected spoliation. Nor 
 was Russia likely to be a more disinterested 
 combatant in the common cause ; for she, too, 
 was intent on the work of partition, and had al- 
 ready inundated the Duchy of Warsaw with 
 troops, with the fixed design of rendering it the 
 frontier of the Moscovite dominions. Thus, at 
 the moment when the evident approach of peril 
 to the national independence was closing those 
 frightful divisions which had hitherto paralyzed 
 the strength of France, the allied powers, intent 
 on separate projects of aggrandizement, were 
 
 Hard., ii., 260, 269. 
 
 t Hard., ii., 264, 274. 
 
 rapidly relaxing the bonds of the confederacy, 
 
 and engaging in the most iniquitous partition 
 recorded in modern times, at the very time when 
 that vast power was arising which wa.s .so soon 
 destined to make them all tremble for their own 
 possessions.* 
 
 This stage of the contest was marked by 
 an important step in the maritime t, 
 relations 01 Europe, which afterward of tiio man- 
 became of the utmost moment intini«lawby 
 the important discussions on ueu- ""^ allies. 
 tral rights which took place at the close of the 
 centuiy. The Empress Catharine publicly an- 
 nounced the departure of Russia from the prin- 
 ciples of the armed neutrality, and her resolution 
 to act on those usages which, England had uni- 
 formly maintained, in conformity witli the prac- 
 tice of all belligerent states, formed the common 
 naval code of Europe. She equipped a fleet of 
 twenty-five ships of the line, which Avas destined 
 to cruize in the Baltic and North Seas, and who.se 
 instructions were " to seize all vessels, without 
 distinction, navigating under the flag of the 
 French Republic, or that of any other state 
 which they might assume; and also to arrest 
 every neutral vessel destined and loaded for a 
 French harbour; oblige them to letrace their 
 steps, or make for the neare.st neutral harbour 
 vvhich might suit their convenience." These 
 instructions were publicly announced to the 
 Prussian, Swedish, and Danish courts ;+ and, 
 although the cabinet of Copenhagen, which eai^ 
 ly perceived the advantages of the lucrative neu- 
 tral commerce which the general hostility was 
 likely to throw into their hands, at first made 
 some difficulties, yet they at length yielded, and 
 all the maritime powers agreed to revert to the 
 usages of war in regard to neutrals which had 
 existed prior to the armed neutrality in 1780. 
 By a declaration issued on June 8, tlie British 
 government enj(Hned its naval commanders to 
 .search all neutral vessels bound for France for 
 articles contraband of war; and Sweden, Den- 
 mark, and Prussia successively adopted the 
 same principles. The latter power, in particu- 
 lar, declared, in a note to Count Bernstorff" in- 
 tended to obviate the objections of the cabinet 
 of Denmark, " His majesty, the King of Prus- 
 sia, who has no interest but what is common 
 with the King of Great Britain, can make no 
 objection to the principles which circumstances 
 
 * Hard., ii., 332, 333. 
 
 t M. Bernstorff declared to the Danish cabinet, after an- 
 nouncing these instructions ; " Her imperial maje.sty, in i»- 
 suinn- such orders, cannot lie supposed to have in the slight- 
 est degree deviated from the beneficent system which is 
 calculated to secure the interests of neutrals in war, seeing 
 that it is nowise applicable to the present circumstances. 
 The French Revolutionists, after having overturned every- 
 thinff in their own country, and bathed their impious hands 
 in the Wood of their sovereig-n, have, by a public decree, de- 
 clared themselves the allies of every peojilo who shall com- 
 mit .similar atrocities, and have followed tliis op by atta<-king 
 with an armed force all its neigrhbours. Neutrality cannot 
 exi.st with such a power, except in so far as it may be as- 
 sumed from prudential considerations. Should tiierc be 
 any states whose situation does not permit thein to make 
 such efficacious eftbits as the greater powers in the common 
 cause, the least that can be required of them is, that they 
 shall make use of such means as are evidently at their dis- 
 posal, by abstainini,' from all commerce or intercourse with 
 these disturbers of the public peace. Her imperial majesty 
 feels herself the more entitled to exact these sacrifices, as 
 she has cheerfully submitted to them hers.'lf; being- well 
 aware of the disastrous effects which would ensue to the 
 common interest, if, by reason of a free transport of provis- 
 ions and naval stores, the enemy were put in possession of 
 the means of prolonging and nourishing- the contest." — See 
 Ann. Reg., x.xxiii. State Papers, No. 41, and Hard , ii,, 
 337,341. 
 
278 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIII. 
 
 liave caused the court of London to adopt rela- 
 tive to the commerce of neutrals during the 
 present war with France. The undersigned, in 
 acceding absolutely and without limitation to all 
 the demands of the British ambassador, obe3's 
 the express injunctions of his court in the most 
 solemn manner, in order to prove to the world 
 the perfect concert which in that, as in all other 
 respects, prevails between the King of Prussia 
 and the King of Great Britain." Thus, how 
 loudly soever the maritime powers may have 
 demanded a new maritime code as a restraint 
 on the hostility of others when they are neutral, 
 they were willing enough to revert to the old 
 usages when they, in their turn, became the belli- 
 gerent parties.* 
 
 If the conduct of the allies had been purposely 
 intended to develop the formidable 
 o'^'rlits!^' inilitary strength which had grown 
 upon the French Republic, they 
 could not have adopted meastires better calcu- 
 lated to effect their object than were actually 
 pursued. Four months of success, which might 
 have been rendered decisive, had been wasted 
 in blameable inactivity ; after having broken the 
 frontier line of fortresses, and defeated the cover- 
 ing army of France in a pitched battle, when 
 within fifteen marches of Paris, and at the head 
 English insist of ^ splendid army of 130,000 men, 
 on dividing they thought fit to separate their 
 t!ie anuy. forces, and instead of pushing on 
 to the centre of the Republican power, pursue 
 independent plans of aggrandizement. The 
 English, with their allies, amounting to above 
 thii-ty-five thousand men, moved towards Dun- 
 kirk, so long the object of their maritime jealou- 
 sy, while forty-five thousand of the Imperialists 
 sat dowm before GLuesnoy, and the remainder of 
 ,, , , . their vast army was broken into de- 
 tachments to preser\'e the communi- 
 cations.7 
 
 From this ritinous division may be dated all 
 The En<'lish ^^'^ subsequent disasters of the cam- 
 besiege °Dun- P-'i-ig^- Had they held together, and 
 kirk, the Aus- pushed on vigorously against the 
 trians Ques- masses of the enemy's forces, now 
 ""^ ■ severely w^eakened and depressed by 
 
 defeat, there cannot be a doubt that the object of 
 the war would have been gained. The decrees 
 Ruinous ef- ^OT levying the population en m-asse 
 fects of the were not passed b}' the convention for 
 division. some weeks afterward, and the forces 
 they produced were not organized for three 
 months. The mighty genius of Carnol had not 
 as yet assumed the helm of affairs ; the Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety had not yet acquired its 
 ten-ible energ}'; even'thing promised great re- 
 sults to vigorous and simultaneous operations. 
 It was a resolution of the English cabinet, in op- 
 position to the declared and earnest wish of Co- 
 bourg and all the allied generals, which occa- 
 sioned this fatal division. The impartial his- 
 torian must confess with a sigh that it was 
 British interests which here interfered with the 
 great objects of the war, and that, by compelling 
 the English contingent to separate for the siege 
 of Dunkirk, England contributed to postpone, 
 for twenty years, its glorious termination. Pos- 
 terity has had ample room to lament the error; 
 a war of twenty years deeply checkered with 
 disaster; the addition of six hundred millions to 
 the public debt ; the sacrifice of millions of brave 
 
 * Hard., ii., 334, 341. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 35. Hard., ii., 101. Th., v., 218, 219. 
 
 men, may be in a great d^iree tiaced to this un- 
 happy resolution.* 
 
 'I'he Austrians were successful in their enter- 
 prise. Alter fifteen days of open trench- Quesnoy 
 es, Q,uesnoy capitulated, and the garri- falls. 
 son, consisting of four thousand men, ^°^- 1*- 
 were made prisoners of war. The eflbrts of the 
 Republicans to raise the siege terminated in 
 nothing but disasters. Two colimms of ten 
 thousand men each, destined to disquiet the be- 
 siegers, were routed, and in one of them, a 
 square of three thousand men broken and to- 
 tally destroyed by the imperial cavalry .t 
 
 But a very ditferent fate awaited the British 
 besieging army. The corps under ^at the siege 
 the command of the Duke of York, of Dunkirk is 
 consisting of twenty thousand Brit- raised, 
 ish and Hanoverians, was raised, by the junction 
 of a body of Austrians under Alvinzi, to thirty- 
 seven thousand men. This force was inade- 
 quate to the enterprise, exposed as it was to at- 
 tack from the main body of the French army. 
 On the 18th of August the Duke of York arrived 
 in the neighbourhood of Lincelles, where, after 
 an obstinate engagement, a strong redoubt was 
 carried by the English Guards, and twelve pie- 
 ces of cannon taken. At the same time, the 
 Dutch troops advanced under Marshal Freytag, 
 and driving the enemy from his positions near 
 Dunkirk, the allies advanced to within a league 
 of the place, and encamped at Fumes, extending 
 from that place to Ihe sandhills on the sea- 
 shore. The place was iimnedialely summoned, 
 but the govemOT returned a determined refu- 
 sal. i 
 
 Sensible of the importance of this fortress, 
 which, if gained by the English, would have 
 given them an easy inlet into the heart of France, 
 the Republicans made the most vigorous efforts 
 to raise the siege.§ This was the more neces- 
 sai}', because the works of the place were in the 
 most deplorable state when the allies appeared 
 before it, and the garrison, consisting only of 
 three thousand men, was totally insufficient to 
 defend the town ; and if the bombarding flotilla 
 had arrived from England at the same time with 
 the besieging army, there can be no doubt that it 
 would immediately have fallen. Immense prep- 
 arations were making at Woolwich for the 
 siege, and eleven new battalions had been em- 
 bai'ked in the Thames for the besieging army ; 
 but such was the tardiness of their movements, 
 that not a vessel appeared in sight at the harbour 
 of Dunkirk, and the mistress of the seas had the 
 mortification to find her land forces severely ha- 
 rassed by discharges from the contemptible gun- 
 boats of the enemy. The delays of the English 
 in these operations proved what novices they 
 were in the art of war, and how little they were 
 aware of the importance of time in military 
 movements. Above three weeks were employed 
 in preparations for the siege, a delay which en- 
 abled the French to bring up from the distant 
 
 * Jom., iv., 26, 27, 28. Tout., iv., 49. Ann. Reg., 1793, 
 377. Jom., iv., 37. Hard., ii., 346, 347, 350. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 41. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1793, 379, 380. Join., iv., 41, 45. 
 
 t) " It is not," said Carnot, in a despatch to Houchard, 
 " merely in a military point of view that Dunkirk is so im- 
 portant : it is far more so, because the national honour is in- 
 volved in its relief. Pitt cannot prevent the Revolution 
 which is approaching in England bat by gaining that town, 
 to indemnify that countiy for the expenses of the war. Ac- 
 cumulate, therefore, immense forces in Flandei^, and drive 
 the enemy from its plains ; the decisive point of the contest 
 lies there." — Hard., ii., 365. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 279 
 
 frontier of the Moselle the forces who ultimate- 
 ly raised the siege.* 
 
 The French rulers did not discover the same 
 inactivity. Following the wise course of accu- 
 niuhiting overwhelming forces upon the decisive 
 point, they brought thirty-five thousand men, by 
 forced marches, from the armies of the Rhine 
 and the Moselle, and placed the army destined 
 to raise the siege, consisting, by this addition, 
 of nearly filiy thousand men, under the command 
 of General Houchard. The investment not hav- 
 ing been completed, he succeeded in throwing 
 ten thousand additional troops, on whose fidelity 
 reliance could be placed, into the garrison ; while 
 the covering army, consisting of twenty thousand 
 Dutch and Austrians, under the command of 
 Marshal Freytag, was threatened by an attack- 
 ing force of nearly double its amount.t 
 
 While the Republicans were thus adopting 
 the system of concentrating their forces, the allies, 
 by the expansion of theirs, gave it ever}' possible 
 chance of success. A hundred thousand men, 
 dispersed roimd duesnoy, and extending Irom 
 the sea to the Moselle, guarded all the entrances 
 into the Netherlands, and covered a line two 
 hundred miles in length. Thus 1'20,000 men 
 were charged at once with the covering of two 
 sieges, the maintenance of that immense line, 
 and the protection of all Flanders from an enter- 
 prising enemy, possessing an interior line of 
 communication, and already acting upon the 
 principle of accumulating an overwhelming 
 force upon the decisive point.t 
 
 The situation of the allied covering army was 
 such as to give to a vigorous attack, by an im- 
 posing mass of assailants, every chance of suc- 
 cess. Freytag's corps of observation was, in the 
 end, not posted at Fumes, so as to protect the 
 rear of the besiegers, but at a considerable dis- 
 tance in front of it, in order to prevent any com- 
 munication between the besieged and the inte- 
 rior of France ; while the Dutch, under the 
 Prince of Orange, were at the distance of three 
 days' march at Menin, and incapable of render- 
 ing any assi.stance; and the Duke of York's be- 
 sieging force lay exposed to an attack between 
 these dispersed bodies. The Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety had enjoined Houchard to adopt that 
 plan ; to throw himself, with forty thousand men, 
 between the three corps, and fall successively on 
 Freytag, the Prince of Orange, and the Duke of 
 York ; and Napoleon would unquestionably have 
 done so if he had been at the head of the array of 
 Italy, and signalized Dunkirk, in all probability, 
 by as decisive success as Rivoli or Areola. But 
 that audacious mode of proceeding could'not be 
 expected from a second in command ; and the 
 principles on which it was founded were not yet 
 understood, nor were his troops adequate to so 
 bold an enterprise. He contented himself, there- 
 fore, with marching against the front of Freytag, 
 with a view to throw him back on the besieging 
 force and raise the siege, instead of interposing 
 between them and destroying both. The object 
 to be thus attained was important, and its achieve- 
 ment proved the salvation of France ; but it fell 
 very far short of the great success expected by 
 the French government; and the failure of the 
 Republican general to enter into the spirit of 
 their orders at length brought him to the scaf- 
 fold.§ 
 
 * Th., v., 220. Jom., iv., 46. Ann. Reg., 1793, 380. 
 Hard., ii., 366. 
 t Ann. Resf..I793, p. 380. Th.. v., 220,239. Jom.,iv.,51. 
 tTh.,v.,238,239. Hb., v., 239, 240. Hard., ii., 370, 371. 
 
 The attack was commenced on Marshal Frey- 
 tag in the beginning of September. A <, 
 series of engagements took jilace, from ''^P'- 5to7. 
 the 5th to the 7th of September, between the 
 French and the covering aimy, which termina- 
 ted unfavourably to the allies ; and at length, on 
 the morning of the 8th, a decisive attack was 
 made by General Houchard on the main body 
 of the Austrians, consisting of nearly eighteen 
 thousand men, near Hondscoote, in which the 
 latter were defeated, with the loss of fil'teen hun- 
 dred men.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the garrison of Dunkirk, acting 
 in concert with the external anny, made a vig- 
 orous sally on the besiegers, with forces superior 
 to their ovvn, and exposed them to the most im- 
 minent peril. The Duke of York, finding his 
 flank exposed to the attacks of Houchard by the 
 defeat of the covering force, justly deemed his 
 situation too precarious to risk a farther stay in 
 the lines, and on the night of the 8th, withdrew 
 his besieging force, leaving fifty-two pieces of 
 heavy artillery', and a large quantity of ammu- 
 nition and baggage, to the conquerors.t 
 
 The consequences of this defeat proved ruin- 
 ous to the whole campai.gn. It exci- Rui„ous con- 
 ted the most extravagant joy at Par- sequences of 
 is, and elevated the public spirit to ^^'^ disaster. 
 a degree great in proportion to their fonncr de- 
 pression. The dislodging of a few thousand 
 men at the extremity of the line changed the 
 face of the war from the German to the Mediter- 
 ranean Sea. The convention, relieved from the 
 dread of immediate danger and the peril of inva- 
 sion, got time to mature its plans of foreign con- 
 quest, and organize the immense militar}^ prep- 
 arations in the interior; and Fortune, weary of 
 a party which threw away the opportimities of 
 receiving her favours, passed over to the other 
 side.; 
 
 Houchard, however, did not improve liis ad- 
 vantages as might have been expect- ^^ ^^y 
 ed. Instead offoUowing up the plan do^'not 'follow 
 of concentrating his forces upon a up their suc- 
 few points, he renewed the system cess with vig- 
 of division, which had been so im- ™''" 
 prudently adopted by his adversaries. The for- 
 ces of the Duke of York, in the camp to which 
 he retired, being deemed too powerful for an im- 
 mediate attack, he resolved to assail a corps of 
 Dutcli who were posted at Menin. A series of 
 actions, with various .success, in consequence 
 ensued between the detached corps of the allies, 
 which kept up the communication between the 
 Duke of York's army and the main body of the 
 Imperialists under Prince Cobourg. On g ^ j^ 
 the one hand, the Dutch, overwhelmed 
 b}' superior masses of the enemy, were defeated, 
 with the loss of two thousand men and forty pie- 
 ces of cannon ; while, on the other. General 
 Beaulieu totally routed the army of Houchard 
 at Couitray, and drove him behind the Lys. 
 Nor did the disaster rest there. The panic com- 
 municated it.self to all the camps, all the g j^ 
 divisions ; and the army which had late- 
 ly raised the siege of Dunkirk sought shelter in 
 a promiscuous crowd under the cannon of Lisle : 
 a striking proof of the unfitness of the Republi- 
 can levies, as yet. for field operations, and of the 
 ease with which, by energetic operations in large 
 masses at that period, the greatest successes 
 
 * Tout., iv., 53, 54. Jom. iv., 54, 60. Ann. Reg., 1793, 
 p. 381. Th., v., 242, 243. 
 
 t Toul., iv.. 53, 54. Jom.. iv., 61. Ann. Re?., 1793, p. 
 381. Th., v., 243, 244. I Toul., iv., 55. Th., v., 245 
 
280 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIH. 
 
 might have been obtained by the numerous and 
 disciplined armies of the allies, if acting together 
 or in concert, and led by an able commander.* 
 
 This last disaster proved fatal to General 
 . , „ Houchard, alreadv charged with cul- 
 chard is ar- pablc inactivity in not toUowing up 
 rested and the advantages at Hondscoote by an 
 executed, immediate attack upon the British 
 force. Accused by his own officers, he was 
 brought before the Revolutionary Tribunal at 
 Paris, condemned and executed. The English 
 had sacrificed Admiral Byng for having sufiered 
 a defeat; the Romans had condemned Manlius 
 for having fought in disobedience to the orders 
 of the senate ; but this was the first instance in 
 history of a victorious general having been put 
 to death for gaining a success which proved the 
 salvation of his country.! 
 
 The proceedings of the convention again.st 
 this unfortunate general are chiefly interesting 
 from the evidence they afford of the clear per- 
 ception which those at the head of aflairs had 
 obtained of the principles in the railitar}'^ art to 
 which tlie subsequent successes of the Republi- 
 can forces were chiefly owing. " For long," 
 said Barere, " the principle established by the 
 great Frederic has been recognised, that the 
 best way to take advantage of the courage of the 
 soldier is to accumulate the troops in particular 
 points in large masses. Instead of doing this, 
 you have divided them into separate detach- 
 ments, and the generals intrusted with their com- 
 mand have generally had to combat superior 
 forces. The\'ommi"ltee of Public Safety, fully 
 aware of the danger, had sent the most positive 
 instructions to the generals to fight in large 
 masses ; you have disregarded their orders, and, 
 in consequence, reverses have followed.": From 
 these expressions, it is not dilficult to recognise 
 tlie influence which the master niind of Camot 
 had already acquired in the direction of military 
 affairs. 
 
 To compensate so many reverses, the allies at 
 Maubeufre length sat down before Maubeuge ; an 
 IS besieged, important fortress, the possession of 
 29th Sept. -(v'hieh would have opened the plains 
 of St. duintin and the capital to invasion, and 
 which, undertaken at an early period, and by the 
 main strength of their forces, would have de- 
 termined, in all probability, the success of the 
 war. Landrecy was already blockaded, and the 
 French troops, avowedly inferior in the lield, 
 were all concentrated in intrenched camps with- 
 in their own frontier. A vigorous effort was in- 
 dispensable, to prevent the allies from carrying 
 these strongholds, and taking up their winter- 
 quarters, -without opposition, in the French ter- 
 ritory.§ 
 
 In these alarming circumstances, the Commit- 
 tee of Public Safety alone did not de- 
 takes the spair of the fortunes of the Republic, 
 command Trusting with confidence in their own 
 of the army, energy, and the immense multitudes 
 of the levies ordered, they took the most vigor- 
 ous measures for the public defence, and, by in- 
 cessantlv ursing on the new conscripts, soon 
 raised the ibrces in the diflerent intrenched 
 camps on the Flemish frontier to 130,000 men. 
 Great part, it is true, formed but a motley group; 
 peasants, without arms or uniforms, fiercely de- 
 bating every question of politics, ibrming I'hem- 
 
 * Jom., iv., 55, 65, fifi. Ann. Reg., 1793, 383. Th., v., 
 246, 247. Hard., ii., 369. t Jom., iv. 
 
 t Jom., IV., 69. Tout., iv., 130. 
 
 ♦ Toul., iv , 133, 134. Jom., iv., 112, 114. 
 
 selves into battalions, and choosing their own 
 officers, presented a force little competent to face, 
 in the open field, the regular forces of Austria 
 and the Confederation. But the possession of so 
 many fortified towns and intrenched camps gave 
 them the means of organizing and disciplining 
 the tumultuary masses, and enabled the regular 
 troops, amounting to 100,000 men, to keep the 
 field. At the head of the whole was placed Gen- 
 eral Jdurda.n, a young officer, hitherto untried, 
 but who, placed between victory and the scaffold, 
 had sufficient confidence in his o\\'n talents to ac- 
 cept the perilous alternative.* 
 
 At the same time, the most energetic measures 
 were taken by the Committee of Public Safety. 
 All France was declared in a state of siege, and 
 the authorities authorized to take all the steps ne- 
 cessaiy lo provide for the public defence in such 
 an emergency. " The Revolutionaiy laws," 
 said Robespierre, "must be executed with ra- 
 pidity : delay and inactivity have been the cause 
 of our reverses. Thenceforward, the time al- 
 lowed for the execution of the laws must be fix- 
 ed, and delay punished with death." St. 
 Just drew a sombre picture of the state 
 of the Piepublic, and the necessity of striving 
 vigorously against the manifold dangers which 
 surrounded them. Having excited the highest 
 degree of terror in the assembl}', they obtained 
 their consent to the following resolutions : That 
 the subsistence requisite for each department 
 should be accurately estimated, and all the super- 
 fluity placed at the "disposal of the state, and sub- 
 jected to forced requisitions, either for the armies, 
 the cities, or departments, that stood in need of it: 
 that the.se requisitions should be exclusively reg- 
 ulated by a commission appointed for that pur- 
 pose by'the convention: that Paris should be 
 provisioned for a year; a tribunal instituted for 
 the trial of all tho.se who should commit any of- 
 fence against these measures, destined to provide 
 for the public subsistence : that the government 
 of France should be declared Revolutionary till 
 the conclusion of a general peace, and, until that 
 arrived, a dictatorial power be invested in the 
 Committee of Public Safety and the convention; 
 and that a Revolutionary anuy, consisting of six 
 thousand men and twelve hundred cannoniers, 
 should be established at Paris, and cantoned 
 there at the expense of the more opulent among 
 the citizens. It was propo.sed in the Cordeliers 
 that to this should be added a provision lor the 
 establishment of a moving guillotine, to be at- 
 tached to every army ; but this was not adopted 
 by the convention. The Revolutionary army 
 was instantly raised, and composed of the most 
 ardent Jacobins, and the commission of subsist- 
 ence installed in its important and all-powerful 
 sovereignty.t 
 
 The force of the allies was still above 120,000 
 strong, and displayed a numerous and splendid 
 array of cavalry, to which there was nothing 
 comparable on the side of the Republicans. But 
 after taking into account the blockading and be- 
 sieging forces, and those stationed at a distance, 
 they could not bring above sixty thousand into 
 the field. This army was, early in October, 
 concentrated between Maubeuge and Avenues, 
 where they awaited the approach of the enemy 
 destined to raise the siege.t 
 
 This measure was now become indispensably 
 necessary, as the condition of the garrison of 
 
 * Toul., iv., 134. Jom., iv.. 114, 115. 116 
 
 t Th., v., 278, 280. i Tou!., iv., 133. Jom., iv., 121. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 281 
 
 Firm con- Maubeuge was daily growing more 
 <luct of the desperate, and the near approacti of ihe 
 convention, besiegers' batteries had .spread terror in 
 the city, and di.scouragenieut among the soldiers. 
 Imitating tiie liniuiess of tlie Roman senate, the 
 convention had sold the estates of the emigrants 
 on which the allies were encamped, and sent the 
 most peremptory orders to Jourdan to attack, 
 without delay, the enemy's force, and drive him 
 out of the FYench territory. The Duke of York, 
 too, hearing of the concentration of the Republi- 
 can Ibrce, was rapidly advancing with above 
 twenty-five thousand men, and, unless the attack 
 was speedily made, it was certain that his force 
 would be joineil to the allied army.* 
 
 Impelled by so many motives, Jourdan ap- 
 Jouraaa advan- pi'oachcd the Austrian position, tlie 
 ces to raise tlie key of which was the village of 
 s'ege. Wattignies. After som.e skirmish- 
 
 ing on the 1-lth, a general battle took place on 
 the 15th of October, in which, after various .suc- 
 cess, the Republicans were worsted, with the loss 
 of twelve hundred men. Instructed by this fail- 
 ure that a change of the method of attack was in- 
 dispensable, Jourdan, in the night, accumulated 
 Battle of Wat- ^'^ forces against the decisive point, 
 tij^iies, 16th of and at break of day on the IGtli, as- 
 October, 1793. sailed Wattignies with thi'ee col- 
 umns, while a concentric fire of artillery shatter- 
 ed the troops who defended it. In the midst of 
 the roar of cannon, which were discharged with 
 xmcoannon vigour, the Repi;blican airs could be 
 distinctly heard by the Austrians, which rose from 
 the French lines. The village Avas speedily 
 carried by this skilful concentration of force, 
 while, at the same time, the appearance of the 
 reserve of Jourdan on the left flank of the allies 
 completed the discouragement of Cobourg, and 
 induced a general retreat, after sustaining a lo.ss 
 of six thousand men. This resolution was un- 
 fortunate and unnecessaiy ; for on other points 
 his arm}' had been eminently successful, and the 
 Retreat of tke arrival of the Duke of York, who 
 allies and rais- was within a day's march, would 
 ing of the siege, jjave enabled him to maintain his 
 position, and convert his partial into a total suc- 
 cess. It is related in Roman history that on one 
 occasion, after a doubtful battle, some god called 
 out in the night that they had lost one man less 
 thai! their enemies, and, in consequence, they 
 kept their ground, and gained all the advantages 
 of a victory : how often does such tenacious firm- 
 ness convert an incipient disaster into important 
 advantage. t 
 
 The raising of the siege and retreat of the 
 allies beyond the Sambre exposed to view the 
 gigantic works which they had constructed for 
 the reduction of the city, and which, with a little 
 more vigour on their part in concentrating their 
 lorces, would undoubtedly have proved success- 
 lul. As it was, the success of the Republicans 
 on this point counterbalanced the alarming in- 
 telligence received from other quarters, and al- 
 layed a dangerous ferment which was com- 
 mencing in the capital.} 
 
 The advantage gained by the Republicans in 
 this action proved how incompetent the old and 
 methodical tactics of the Imperialists were to 
 contend with the new and able system which 
 Carnot had introduced iiUo their 'armies, and 
 
 * Join., iv.. 118, 1^0, 129. 
 
 t Unrd., li., 40fi. 4(J9. Jom., iv., 134, 135. Th., v., 328, 
 330. Toul., IV.. 136, 138. 
 
 t Toul., IV., 13R, 137. Th., v., 328, 332. Jom., iv., 130, 
 135. 
 
 Vol. I.— N n 
 
 which their immense levies enabled them to exe- 
 cute with reckless audacity. Jourdan had nearly 
 sixty thousand men to raise the siege. By leav- 
 ing only fifteen thousand to man the works, Co- 
 bourg might have opposed to him an ecjual force; 
 and an action under such circumstances, from 
 the great inferiority of the French in discipline, 
 would infallibly have led to a defeat, which would 
 speedily have brought about the reduction of the 
 town. Instead of which, by leaving thirty-five 
 thousand round the town, he exposed himself, 
 with only thirty thousand men, to the shock of 
 sixty thousand Republicans, and ultimately was 
 compelled to raise the siege.* 
 
 Nothing more of importance was undertaken 
 in Flanders before the close of the , , . 
 campaign; a movetnent of the [hTct-';^' 
 b rench, threatening the right of the m Flanders ; 
 allies towards the sea, was not per- both parties go 
 sisted in, and, after various unim- "''° wmter- 
 portant changes, both parties went "^"^"^ *^'^' 
 into winter-quarters. The headquarters of Co- 
 bourg were established at Bavay; those of the 
 Republicans at Guice, where a vast intrenched 
 camp was formed for the protection and disciplin- 
 ing of the Revolutionary masses which were 
 daily arriving for the army. Insatiable in their 
 expectations of success, the Committee of Public 
 Safety removed Jourdan from the supreme com- 
 mand, and conferred it on Pichegru, pichegru ap- 
 an officer distinguished in the cam- pointed com- 
 paign on the Rhine, a favourite of 'ni^nder. 
 Robespierre and St. Just, and possessed of the 
 talent, activity, and enterprise suited to those 
 perilous times, when the risk was greater to a 
 commander from domestic tyranny than foreign 
 warfare. t 
 
 After the capture of Mayence, the Imperialists, 
 re-enforced by forty thousand excel- campaign on 
 lent troops, who had been employed the Rhine. In- 
 in the siege of that city, could have activity of the 
 assembled 100,000 meii for oflensive Prussians, 
 operations in the plains of the Palatinate, while 
 those of the enemy did not exceed eighty thou- 
 sand. Everything promised success to vigorous 
 operations ; but the allies, paralyzed by intestine 
 divisions, remained in an inexplicable state of 
 inactivity, and separated their fine army into four 
 corps, which were placed opposite to the length- 
 ened lines of their adversaries. The PiTissians 
 were chiefly to blame for this torpor; they had 
 secretly adopted the resolution, now that "May- 
 ence, the barrier of Northern Germany, had fallen, 
 to contribute no farther efficient aid to the prose- 
 cution of the war. For two months they remain- 
 ed there in perfect inactivity, the jealousy of the 
 sovereigns concerning the affairs of Poland being 
 equalled by the rivalry of the generals for the 
 command of the armies. Both monarchies had 
 bitter cause afterward to lament this inaction ; for 
 never again were their own armies on the Rhine 
 so tbrmidable, or those of the Republicans in 
 such a state of disorganization.: 
 
 Wearied at length with the torpor of their op- 
 ponents, and pressed by the reiterated orders of 
 the convention to undertake something decisive, 
 the French general, Moreau, wlio commanded 
 the army of the Moselle, commenced an ^^ ^ 
 attack on the Prussian coi-ps posted at ^"^ ' 
 Permasin. The Republican columns advanced 
 with intrepidity to the attack, but when they 
 reached the Prussian redoubts, a terrible storm 
 
 * Th., v., 332. t Jom.. iv., 134, 14& 
 
 t Jom., iv., 75, 78, 91. Hard., ii., 342. 
 
282 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIII. 
 
 of grape arrested their advance ; and, at the same 
 time, their flanks were turned by the Duke of 
 Brunswick, and a heavy fire of artillery carried 
 French de- disorder into their masses, which soon 
 feated ut fell back, and precipitated themselves 
 Permasin. jn confusion into the neighbouring 
 ravines. In this affair the Republicans lost four 
 thousand men and twenty-two pieces of cannon: 
 a disaster which might have proved fatal to the 
 campaign, had it been as much improved as it 
 was neglected by the allied commanders.* 
 
 The King of Prussia, a few days after, left the 
 army to repair to Poland, in order to pursue, in 
 concert with Russia, his plans of aggrandizement 
 at the expense of that unhappy country ; and the 
 allies, having at length agreed on a plan of opera- 
 tions, resumed offensive operations. The French 
 occupied the ancient and celebrated lines of 
 Weissenberg, constructed in former times for the 
 protection of the Rhenish frontier from German 
 invasion. They stretched from the town 
 Oct. 13. ^j- Lauterburg on the Rhine through the 
 village of Weissenberg to the Vosges Mountains, 
 and thus closed all access from that side into 
 Alsace. For four months that they had been oc- 
 cupied by the Republicans, all the resources of 
 art had been employed in strengthening them. 
 The recent successes of the allies had brought 
 them to the extreme left of this position, and they 
 formed the design of attacking it from left to 
 right, and forcing an abandonment of the whole 
 Their lines intrenchments. A simultaneous as- 
 are stoinied sault was made by the Prussians, un- 
 atWeissen- der the Duke of Brunswick, on the 
 ''•'"■ff- left of the lines, by the defiles in the 
 
 Vosges Mountains, while the Austrians, under 
 Prince Waldeck, crossed the Rhine and turn- 
 ed the right, and Wurmser himself, with the 
 main body, endeavoured to force the centre. 
 The attack on the right by Lauterburg obtain- 
 ed only a momentary success ; but Wurmser 
 carried several redoubts in the centre, 
 tallTro^iUed' ^^^ ®°°^ S'^^ possession of Weissen- 
 berg ; and the left having been turned 
 and forced back, the whole army retired in con- 
 fusion, and some of the fugitives tied as far as 
 Strasburg. Such was the tardiness of the al- 
 lies, that the French lost only one thousand men 
 in this general rout, which, if duly improved, 
 might have occasioned the ruin of their whole 
 army.t 
 
 But this important success, which once more 
 J opened the territory of the Republic to 
 
 results." "" ^ victorious enemy, and spread the ut- 
 most consternation through the towns 
 of Alsace, led to no results ; and by developing 
 the designs of Austria upon this province, con- 
 tributed to widen the breach between that power 
 and her wavering ally. Although, therefore, a 
 powerful reaction commenced among the nobles 
 in Alsace, and a formidable party was formed 
 in Strasburg to favour the imperial projects, no- 
 thing material was undertaken by their armies. 
 Wurmser wasted in festivity and rejoicings the 
 precious moments of incipient terror ; the con- 
 vention got time to recover from their alarm, and 
 the Committee of Public Safety took the most 
 energetic measures to restore the Democratic 
 fervour in the shaken districts. A Revolution- 
 ary force, under the command of a ferocious 
 leader, traversed the province, confiscating with- 
 
 * Jom., iv., 88, 91. Toul., iv., 138, 140. 
 t Hard., ii., 424, 425. Toul., iv., 140, 141, 142. Join., 
 iv., 96, 97, 104 
 
 out mercy the property of the suspected individ- 
 uals, and spreading, "by the multitude of their 
 arrests, the tear of death before every individual. 
 " Marat," said Bandet, " has only demanded 
 200,000 heads ; were they a million, we would 
 furnish them." To take advantage of the fer- 
 ment occasioned by those menaces, Wurmser 
 advanced to the neighbourhood of Strasburg, 
 where the whole constituted authorities oflTer^ 
 to surrender it to the Imperialists in the name 
 of Louis XVII. The Austrian commander, 
 however, fettered by orders from Vienna, which 
 prohibited him Irom doing anything which might 
 prejudice their system of methodical conquest, 
 declined to take possession of the city on these 
 terms, and moved the Prussians to Savenie, in 
 order to force back the Republicans, who were 
 accumulating on that point. This project, how- 
 ever, proved unsuccessful ; the Prussians were 
 driven back, and Wurmser, unable to undertake 
 the siege of Strasburg by Ibrce, was obliged to 
 withdraw, and confine his operations to the block- 
 ade of Landau and siege of Fort Landau block- 
 Vauban, which capitulated, witli its aded, and Fort 
 garrison of three thousand men, on Vauban taken, 
 the 14th of November. The inhabitants of Stras- 
 burg, thus abandoned to their fate, experienced 
 the whole weight of Republican vengeance; sev- 
 enty persons of the most distinguish-" Cruel revent^e 
 ed families were put to death, while of the French 
 terror and confiscation reinstated the ''^ Alsace, 
 sway of the convention over that unhappy prov- 
 ince. No sooner was the extent of the conspir- 
 acy ascertained, than St. Just and Le Bas were 
 despatched by the convention, and speedily put 
 in force the terrific energy of the Revolution. 
 The blood of the Royalists immediately flowed 
 in torrents: it was a sufficient ground for con- 
 demnation that any inhabitant had remained in 
 the village occupied by the allies; and a fourth 
 of the families of the province, decimated by the 
 guillotine, fled into the neighbouring districts of 
 Switzerland, and were speedily enrolled in the 
 tables of proscription.* 
 
 The secession of Prussia from the confedera- 
 cy now became daily more and more evident. 
 Wurmser in vain endeavoured to rou.se them to 
 any combined movements ; orders from the cab- 
 inet constrained the Duke of Brunswick to a line 
 of conduct as prejudicial to his fame as a com- 
 mander as it was injurious to the character of 
 his country. On his return to Berlin, Frederic 
 William was assailed by so many representa- 
 tions from his ministers as to tlie deplorable 
 state of the finances and the exhaustion of the 
 national strength, in a contest foreign to the real 
 interests of the nation, at the very time when the 
 affairs of Poland required their undivided atten- 
 tion, and the greatest possible display of force in 
 that quarter, that he at first adopted the resolu- 
 tion to recall all his troops from the Rhine ex- 
 cept the small contingent which he was bound 
 to furnish as a prince of the Empire, and or- 
 ders to that effect were actually transmitted to 
 the Prussian general. The cabinet of Vienna, 
 informed of their danger, made the most press- 
 ing remonstrances against such an untimely and 
 ruinous defection, in which they M^ere so well 
 seconded by those of London and St. Petersburg, 
 that this resolution was rescinded, and, in con- 
 sideration of a large Austrian subsidy, engaged 
 to continue the contest. But orders were never- 
 
 * Hard., ii., 425, 436. Tonl., iv., 143, 144, 186. Th., vi., 
 48, 49. Jom., iv., 104, lOj, 111, 150. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 283 
 
 theless given to the Duke of Brunswick to tem- 
 porize as much as possible, and engage the Prus- 
 sian troops in no serious enterprise, or any con- 
 quest which might turn to the advantage of the 
 Austrians : the elfect of which soon appeared in 
 the removal of the Prussian mortars and can- 
 non from the lines before Landau, at the mo- 
 ment when the bombardment was going on with 
 the greatest prospect of success. Shortly after 
 they withdrew so large a part of the blockading 
 force, that the garrison was enabled to commu- 
 nicate freely Avith the adjacent countr}'.* 
 Meanwhile the Committee of Public Safety, 
 very different from their tardy and di- 
 the allTes. '^^^'^^ opponents, did not confine their 
 views to the subjugation of the Roy- 
 alists in Alsace. They aspired to the complete 
 deliverance of the Republican territory from the 
 j^p^ j^ enemy's forces. To raise the blockade 
 of Landau, thirty thousand men from the 
 armies of the Moselle and the Rhine were pla- 
 ced under the orders of Pichegra, who were des- 
 tined to penetrate the allied lines between the 
 cantonments of the Austrian and Prussian for- 
 ces ; and these were supported by thirty-five 
 thousand under General Hoche, who advanced 
 from the side of La Sarre. After some prepar- 
 atory movements, and various success, and 
 many partial actions, the Republicans attacked 
 the covering arm_v of the Duke of Brunswick, 
 Dec 26 ^" great force, on the morning of the 2Gth 
 of December, who were in position near 
 the castle of Geisberg, a little in front of Weis- 
 senberg. Such was the dissension between the 
 two commanders, in consequence of the evi- 
 dent reluctance of the Prussians to engage, that 
 a warm altercation took place between them, in 
 presence of their respective officers, on the field 
 of battle. The result, as might have been ex- 
 Doc 30 P^^^^'^' "^^^s, that the allies, vigorously 
 attacked in their centre, were driven from 
 their positions ; and, after some ineffectual at- 
 tempts to make a stand on the left bank of the 
 .Sic.-eofLan- I^^iiie, their whole army, in great 
 dau" raised, confusion, crossed to the right bank at 
 and the allies Philipsbcrg, after raising the block- 
 ^I'l^en over ade of Landau, leaving their recent 
 the Rhine. conquest of Fort Vauban to its fate, 
 and completely evacuating in that quarter the 
 French territory. Spire and Worms were speed- 
 Ian 19 1794 ^^y reconquered, and Fort Vauban 
 soon after evacuated. The Repub- 
 lican armies, i-apidly advancing, appeared before 
 the gates of Manheim, and Gemiany, so recent- 
 ly victorious, began to tremble for its own fron- 
 tier.t 
 
 These important results demonstrated the su- 
 perior military combination which was now ex- 
 erted on the part of the French to that of the al- 
 lies. Forty thousand Prussians and Saxons 
 were in a state of inaction on the other side of the 
 Vosges Mountains, while the Austrians, over- 
 matched by superior and concentrated forces, 
 were driven across the Rhine. The French ac- 
 cumulated forces from different armies to break 
 through one weakly-defended point, while the al- 
 lies were in such a state of discord that they 
 could not, even in the extreraest peril, render any 
 effectual assistance to each other.t§ It was not 
 
 * Hnrd.ii., 425,431. 
 
 t Tout., iv., 221, 227. Jom., iv., 154, 100, 177. Th.,vi., 
 48,49. t Hard., ii., 439, 441. .Tnm., iv., 177. 
 
 () Such was thfi dissension between the Austrians and 
 Prussians, that their respective commanders published mu- 
 tual recriminations against each other, and fouglit duels in 
 
 difficult to foresee what would be the result of 
 such a contest.* 
 
 The campaign on the Pyrenean frontier du- 
 ring this year was not characterized campaign on 
 by any event ot importance. At the the Spanish 
 first breaking out of the war in Feb- frontier, 
 ruar}', the Spanish government made vigorous 
 exertions to increase their armies, and the zeal 
 and patriotism of the inhabitants soon supplied 
 the deficiencies of the military establishment, and 
 enabled them to put two considerable forces on 
 foot. Two armies were formed: one of thirty 
 thousand men, destined to invade Roussillon"; 
 the other of twentv-five thousand, to penetrate by 
 the Bidassoa, on the side of Bayonne.t 
 
 The Republican army on the western entrance 
 of the Pyrenees occupied a line from St. Jean 
 Pied de Port to the mouth of the Bidassoa, 
 strengthened by three intrenched camps, while 
 the Spaniards were stationed on the heights of 
 St. Marcial, the destined theatre of honourable 
 achievement to their arms in a more glorious 
 war. On the 14th of April, the Span- 
 iards, from their position, opened a vigor- ^^^^^ ^^' 
 ous fire on the French line, and during the con- 
 fusion occasioned by it among their opponents, 
 crossed the Bidassoa, and carried a 
 fort which M-as soon after abandoned. 9" ^^^ ^'' 
 This attack was only the prelude to a ^^'"^' 
 more decisive one, which took place on the 1st 
 of Ma}-, when the French were driven 
 from one of their camps with the loss of ^^ 
 fifteen pieces of cannon; and on the 6th of June 
 they were driven from another camp, 
 and forced into St. Pied de Port, with ■'"'''' ^• 
 the loss of all the cannon and ammunition which 
 it contained. After these disasters, the Repub- 
 lican commander was indefatigable in his en- 
 deavours to restore the courage and discipline 
 of his troops, and deeming them at length suffi- 
 ciently experienced for offensive operations, he 
 made a general attack, on the 29th of August, on 
 the posts which the Spaniards had fortified on 
 the French territory, but M^as repulsed with con- 
 siderable loss, and disabled from undertaking 
 
 support of their respective sides of the question. — Hard., ii., 
 442. 
 
 * So manifestly were the di\-isions of the allies and the de- 
 fection of the Prussians the cause of all the disasters of the 
 campaisrn on the German frontier, that the Duke of Bruns- 
 wick himself did not hesitate to ascribe them to that cause. 
 On the 24lh of January, 1794, he wrote to Prince Louis of 
 Prussia in these tenns : " I have been enveloped in circum- 
 stances as distressing as they were extraordinary, which 
 have imposed upon me the painful necessity of acting as I 
 have done. What a misfortune that external and internal 
 dissensions should so frequently have paralyzed the move- 
 ment of the armies, at the veiy time when the greatest ac- 
 tivity was necessary. If, after the fall of Mayence, they had 
 fallen on Houchard, whom they would have beaten, they 
 would have prevented the m.iroh of troops to the north,- and, 
 by consequence, the checks of Dunkirk and Maubeuge ; Sarre 
 Louis, ill provisioned, and destitute at that period of any 
 shelter from a bombardment, would have f dien in fifteen 
 days. Alsace thus would have been turned by the Sarre ; 
 the capture of the lines of Lantern would have been more 
 solid : and if the Republican army of the Rhine had been 
 by that means separated from that of the Moselle, Landau 
 would infallildy have fallen. I implore you to use your ef- 
 forts to prevent the undue sep.aration of the army into de- 
 tachments ; when this is the case, weak at every point, it is 
 liable to be cut up in detail. At Mayence the fruits of the 
 whole war were lost ; and there is no hope that a third cam- 
 paign will repair the disasters of the two preceding. The 
 same causes will divide the allied powers which have hither- 
 to divided them : the movements of the armies will suffer 
 from them as they have suffered : their march will be em- 
 barrassed, retarded, prevented ; and the delay in the re-es- 
 tablishment of the Prussian army, unavoidable perhaps from 
 political causes, will become the cause in the succeeding- 
 campaign of incalculable disasters." — See Hard., ii., 444, 
 448. t Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 396. 
 
284 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIU. 
 
 any movement of consequence for the remainder 
 of the campaign.* 
 
 Operations of more importance took place du- 
 And eastern ring the same campaign on the eastern 
 Pyrenees. side. The Spaniards, under Don Ri- 
 Apriiai. cardos, in the middle of April inva- 
 
 without any decisive advantage on either side, 
 but without the Spanish troops ever being dis- 
 lodged from their position. At that pe- 
 riod, Ricardos, having been strongly re- *''■ 
 enforced, resolved to resume the oflensive. Early 
 on the 7th of December he disposed his troops 
 
 ded Roussillon, and on the 21st, a small body j in four columns, and having surprised the ad 
 
 having gained an advantage over an equal num- 
 ber of French, this wa.s Ibllowed soon after by a 
 general attack on the French camp, which ended 
 
 in the defeat of the Republicans. Soon 
 "^y ^^- after, the forts of Bellegiade and Villa 
 Franca were taken, and Ricardos, pursuing his 
 
 advantages, on the :29lh of August aitack- 
 
 vanced posts, commenced an unexpected attack 
 upon the French lines. The Republicans, many 
 of whom were inexperienced levies, instantly 
 took to flight, and the whole arm}^ was routed, 
 with the loss of forty-six pieces oi" cannon, and 
 two thousand five hundred men. The Spaniards 
 followed up this success by another expedition 
 
 Aug. 29. g^ ^ large body of French at Millas, who ! against thetown of Port Vendre, which they car- 
 were totally defeated, with the loss of filteen pieces I ried, with all the artillery mounted on its defen- 
 of cannon. The result of this was, that the in- ! ces ; and soon after, Collioure suiTender- 
 vaders passed Perpignan, and interrupted the j ed to their forces, with above eighty ^'^' ' 
 communication between Languedoc and Rous- 1 pieces of cannon, while the Marquis Amarillas 
 
 sillon.t overthrew the right, and carried such sgprmd rout of 
 
 But the convention, alarmed at the rapid prog- terror into the inexperienced forces of the French, 
 ress of the Spaniards, at length took j the Republicans, that many battal- who fall back 
 Invasion of jj^g most vigorous measures to re-en- 1 ions disbanded themselves, and fled '^ Perpignan. 
 force their annies, and the energetic I into the interior, and the whole fell backinconfu- 
 government of the Committee of Public Safety j sionunder the cannon of Perpignan. By 
 restored success to the Republican standards. ; these repeated disasters, the French army '^'^' 
 
 Two divisions of the French, about fif- ' was so much discouraged, that almost all the 
 
 National Guards left their colours, and the gen- 
 eral-in-chief announced to the convention that 
 he was only at the head of eight thousand men. 
 Had the Spanish commander been aware of the 
 
 Sept. 1/. j^^gj^ thousand strong, were directed to 
 move against the Spaniards, under Don Juan 
 Courten, who had not above six thousand men 
 at Pejrrestortes, and their attack was combined 
 
 with so much skill, that the enemy were assailed ' state of his opponents, he might, by a vigorous 
 in front, both flanks and rear, at the same time, j attack, have completed their ruin before the re- 
 Alter a gallant defence, the Spaniards I enforcements arrived from Toulon,* which, in 
 Theirdefeat. ^^.gj.g foreed to commence a retreat, the beginning of the following month, restored 
 which, though conducted for some time in good i the balance ot' the contending lorces. 
 order, at length was converted into a flight, du- 1 At the conclusion of the preceding campaign, 
 ring which they lost one thousand men killed I the French remained masters of the campait^n in 
 and fifteen hundred prisoners, besides all their territory and city of Nice. An ex- the Maritime 
 artillery and camp equipage.t pedition projected by the Republi- Alps. Febru- 
 
 Elated by this success, the Republicans propo- cans against Sardinia totally failed. ">' ^^• 
 Sept 22 Bat- ^^^ ^ general attack upon the Span- When the season was so far advanced as to per- 
 UeofTruellas ish army, which took place at Tru- mit operations in the Maritime Alps, the Pied- 
 and defeat of ellas. Twenty thousand chosen ' montese army, consisting of thirty thousand na- 
 the French, troops, divided into three columns, I tives and ten thousand Austrians, was posted 
 advanced against the Spanish camp. After an I along their summits, with the centre at Saorgio, 
 obstinate resistance, that which attacked the cen- strongly fortified. In the beginning of June, the 
 tre, under the command of Dagobert, carried the Republicans, twenty-five thousand strong, corn- 
 intrenchments, and was on the point of gaining ' menced an attack in five columns, but after some 
 a glorious victoiy, when Courten, coming up ! partial success they resumed their positions, and 
 with the Spanish reserve, prolonged the combat, j being soon after weakened by detachments lor 
 and gave time for Don Ricardos, who had defeat- ' the siege of Toulon, remained on the defensive 
 ed the attack on his left, to advance at the head } till the end of July, when they made themselves 
 of four regiments of cavaliy, which decided the , masters of the Col d'Argentiere and the Col de 
 day. Three French battalions laid down their | Sauteron, which excited the utmost alarm in the 
 arms, and the remainder, formed into squares, ' court of Turin, and prevented them from send- 
 retreated, in spite of the utmost efforts of the ing those succours to the army in Savoy which 
 Spanish cavalrj', not, however, till they had sus- 1 the powerful diversion occasioned by the siege 
 tained a loss of lour thousand men and ten pieces j of Lyons so evidently recommended.t 
 
 of artillerj'.l 
 
 Dagobert was immediately displaced from the 
 supreme command for this disaster : and the Re- 
 publicans, under Davoust, being shortly after re- 
 enforced by fifteen thousand men, levied under 
 the decree of the 23d of August, P».icardos was 
 constrained, notwithstanding his success, to re- 
 
 The insurrection in Lyons offered an opportu- 
 nity for establishing themselves in p-peble irrup- 
 the south of France which could tion on the side 
 hardly have been hoped for by the of Chamberry . 
 allied powers. Had sixty thousand regular 
 troops descended from the Alps in Italy, and 
 taken advantage of the effervescence which 
 
 main upon the defensive. He retired, therefore, : prevailed in Toulon, Marseilles, and Lyons, the 
 to a strong intrenched camp near Boulon, where , consequences might have been incalculable, 
 he was altacked on the 3d of October by the [ But such were the divisions among the allies, 
 
 French forces. From that time to the beginnin; 
 of December, a variety of actions took place, 
 
 * Jom., iv., 273, 282. Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 397, 398. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 241, 243. Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 399. 
 t Jom. iv. 244, 245. 
 
 4 Jomij iv!', 246! 248! Ann. Reg., ixiiu., 399. 
 
 that this golden opportunity, never to recur, was 
 neglected, and the court of Turin contented 
 themselves, during that unhoped-for diversion, 
 
 * Jom., iv., 251, 262, 270, 273. Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 400. 
 + Jom., iv., 181, 184. Tout., iv., 216, 217, 218. Th., 
 v., 38. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 285 
 
 with merely aiming at the expulsion of the I 
 French from the valleys of the Arc and the Isere. 
 This was no dithcult matter, as they were mas- 
 ters of the summits of Mont Cenis and the Little 
 St. Bernard, and the French in the valleys be- 
 neath were severely weakened by detachments 
 for the siege of Lyons. In the middle of Au- 
 gust, the Sardinian columns descended the rav- 
 ines of St. Jean de Maurienne and Moutiers, un- 
 der the command of General Gordon, and after 
 some trifling engagements, drove the 
 Aug. 15. Republicans from these narrow and 
 winding valleys, and compelled them to take ref- 
 uge under the cannon of Montmelian. But 
 here terminated the success of this feeble inva- 
 sion. Kellerman, hearing of the advance of the 
 Sardinians, left the siege of Lyons to General 
 Durnuy, and hastily returning to Chamberry, 
 roused the National Guard to resist the enemy. 
 At the moment tliey were preparing to 
 ''P'' ■ follow up their advantages, the French 
 commander anticipated them by a brisk attack, 
 and, after a feeble resistance, drove them from 
 the whole ground they had gained as far as the 
 foot of Mont Cenis. Thus a campaign, from 
 which, if boldly conducted, the liberation of all 
 the southeast of France might have been ex- 
 pected, terminated, after an ephemeral success, 
 in ultimate disgrace.* 
 
 But while the operations of the allies in their 
 Great dis- vicinity were thus inefficient, the ef- 
 conteiit in forts of the French themselves were 
 the soutti of a more decided and glorious char- 
 of France, j^^^fer. The insurrection of the 3lst 
 of May, which subjected the legislature to the 
 mob of Paris, and established the Reign of Ter- 
 ror through all France, excited the utmost indig- 
 nation in the .southern provinces. Marseilles, 
 Toulon, and Lyons openly espoused the Giron- 
 dist party ; they were warmly attached to free- 
 dom, but it was that regulated freedom which 
 provides for the protection of all, not that which 
 subjects the better classes to the despotism of the 
 lower. The discontents went on increasing till 
 the middle of July, when Chalier and Riard, the 
 leaders of the Jacobin club, were put to death. 
 From that moment they were declared in a state 
 of insurrection, and the Girondist leaders, per- 
 ceiving that the Royalist party had gained the 
 ascendency in the town, withdrew, and Precy 
 was named to the command of the armed force. 
 They immediately began to cast cannon, raise 
 intrenchments, and make every preparation for 
 a vigorous detence.t 
 
 This discontent first broke into open violence 
 Abortive in- in Marseilles. At the first intelli- 
 surrection at gence, Kellerman despatched Gener- 
 Marseiiics. ^j Carteaux to prevent a corps of ten 
 thousand men, from that city, from effecting a 
 junction with the volunteers from Lyons. Had 
 this junction been efl^eeted, there can" be no doubt 
 that the whole of the south of France would have 
 thrown off the yoke of the convention. But Car- 
 teaux, after overawing Avignon and Pont d'Es- 
 prit, encountered the^Marseillois corps, first at 
 Salons, and afterward at Septiemes, where he 
 totally defeated it, and the following day entered 
 Marseilles. Terror instantly resurned its sway ; 
 the prisons were emptied ; all the leaders of the 
 Girondists thrown into confinement, and the 
 guillotine, ever in the rear of the Republican ar- 
 mies, installed in bloody sovereignty.* 
 
 ■' Jom., iv., 195, 206. Bot., i., 294,300-309. Th.,v.,30", 
 310. t Th., v., 142, 143. Tout., iv., 55. 
 
 t Toul., iv., 63, 66. Jom., iv., 208, 209. Th., v., 74. 
 
 A large proportion of the citizens of Mar- 
 seilles fled to Toulon, where they -^f^^^Xt at 
 spread the most dismal accounts of Toulon,wnich 
 the sufferings of their fellow-citi- opuus its gates 
 zens, and the fate which awaited t" Uie English. 
 Toulon if it fell into the hands of the Republi- 
 cans. That rising seaport already pos.sessed- a 
 population of twenty-five thousand souls, and 
 was warmly opposed to the Revolution, Irom the 
 suffering which had involved its population ever 
 since its commencement, and the number of of- 
 ficers connected with the aristocracy who had 
 enjoyed situations in the marine under the an- 
 cient government. In the extremity to which 
 they were reduced, threatened by the near ap- 
 proach of the Republican forces, and destitute 
 of adequate means of defence, the inhabitants saw 
 no alternative but to open their harbour to the 
 English fleet which was cruizing in the vicinity, 
 and proclaim Louis XVII. as king. The pri- 
 mary sections were accordingly convoked, and 
 the proposal was unanimously agreed to; the 
 dauphin was proclaimed; the English squadrons 
 entered the harbour, and the crews of seven ships 
 of the line, who proved refractory, were allowed 
 to retire, while those of the remainder joined the 
 inhabitants. Shortly afterward the Spanish 
 squadron arrived, bringing with them a consid- 
 erable re-enforcement of land troops, and the al- 
 lied forces, eight thousand strong, took possess- 
 ion of all the forts in the city.* The English 
 admiral. Hood, on this occasion, engaged in the 
 most solemn manner, in two different proclama- 
 tions, to take possession of Toulon solely and 
 exclusively in the name and for the behoof of 
 Louis XVII., and to restore the fleet to the mo- 
 narchical government of France on a general 
 peace.t 
 
 Carteaux immediately ordered a detachment 
 of his forces to march against the in- Revolt and 
 surgents, but the garrison, supported siege of 
 by a body of the National Guards of Lyons. 
 Toulon, marched to meet them, and the Repub- 
 licans, surprised, were obliged to fall back in 
 confusion. This check proved the necessity of 
 more energetic measures ; a large portion of the 
 army of Italy was recalled from the Alps, the 
 National Guards of the neighbouring depart- 
 ments called out, new levies ordered, and the di- 
 rections of Robespierre immediately acted upon, 
 
 * Jom., iv. , 209, 211. Toul., iv., 67, 68. 
 
 t In the first proclamation, Admiral Hood said, "If the 
 people declare openly in favour of a monarchical govern- 
 ment, and they resolve to put me in possession of the har- 
 bour, they shall receive all the succours which the squadron 
 under my command can afford. I declare that property and 
 persons shall be held sacred : we wish only to establish 
 peace. When it is concluded, we shall restore the fleet to 
 France agreeably to the inventory which shall be made 
 out." In the second he was equally explicit : " Consider- 
 ing that the sections of Toulon, "by the commissioners 
 whom they have sent to me, have made a solemn declara- 
 tion in favour of Louis XVII. and a monarchical govern- 
 ment, and that they will use their utmost efforts to break 
 the chains which fetter their country, and re-establish the 
 constitution as it was accepted by their defunct sovereign in 
 1789: I repeat, by this present declaration, that I take pos- 
 session of Toulon, and shall keep it solely as a deposite for 
 Louis XVII., and that onlv till peace is re-established in 
 France, which I trust is not far distant."— Proclamation 
 of the 28th of August, 1793, Hard., ii., 357, 359. The.se 
 were the true principles of the anti-Revolutionary war : 
 very different from those proclaimed by the Austrians onthe 
 taking of Valenciennes and Cond6 ; nor was the subsequent 
 destructitm of the fleet, when Toulon was retaken by the Re- 
 publicans, any departure from good faith in this transac- 
 tion. England was bound to restore the fleet to a monarch- 
 ichal gove'rnment and Louis XVII. , but not to hand it over 
 to the Revolutionary government, the most bitter enemy of 
 both. 
 
286 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIll. 
 
 that Lyons must be burned and razed to the 
 ground, and then the siege of Toulon formed.* 
 
 At the first intelligence of the revolt of Lyons, 
 29th 1 Kellerman assembled eight thousand 
 " ^' men and a small train of artillery to 
 observe tlie place. But this was totally insuffi- 
 cient even to maintain its grovmd before the 
 armed population of the city, which soon amount- 
 ed to thuty thousand men. A military chest 
 •was formed; a paper currenc)', guaranteed by 
 the principal merchants, issued; cannon in great 
 numbers cast at a foundry within the walls; 
 and fortifications, under the direction of an able 
 engineer, erected upon all the beautiful heights 
 which encircle the city.t 
 
 The troops of the Republicans, though daily 
 increasing, were for long unable to make head 
 against forces so considerable, supported by the 
 ardour of a numerous and enthusiastic popula- 
 tion. During the whole of August, accordingly, 
 and the beginning of September, the siege made 
 little progress, and the batteries of the besiegers 
 were scarcely armed. The besieged, meanwhile, 
 made proposals for an accommodation ; but the 
 commissaries of the convention returned for an- 
 swer, " Rebels ! first show yourselves worthy of 
 pardon, by acknowledging your crime ; lay down 
 your arms ; deliver up the keys of your city, and 
 deserve the clemency of the convention by a sin- 
 cere repentance." But the inhabitants, well 
 aware of the consequence of such submission, 
 returned for answer, "Conduct so atrocious as 
 yours proves what we have to expect from your 
 clemency : we shall firmly await your arrival; 
 and you will never capture the city but by 
 marching over ruins and piles of dead."t 
 
 No sooner were the convention informed of 
 Great efforts the entrance of the English into Tou- 
 of the Repub- lon, than they redoubled in their ar- 
 licans for its dour for the subjugation of Lyons, 
 reduction. -phey indignantly rejected the ad- 
 vice of several of their members, in whose bosom 
 the feelings of humanity were not utterly extinct, 
 for an accommodation with the inhabitants, and 
 took the most energetic measures for the prose- 
 cution of the siege. A hundred pieces of can- 
 non, drawn from the arsenals of Besan(;on and 
 Grenoble, were immediately mounted on the bat- 
 teries ; veteran troops selected from the army on 
 the frontiers of Piedmont, and four corps formed, 
 which on ditferent sides pressed the outworks of 
 the city. In a succession of contests in the outer in- 
 trenchments, the Lyonese evinced the most he- 
 roic valour; but although the success was fre- 
 quently balanced, the besiegers, upon the whole, 
 had the advantage, and the horrors of war, which 
 they had so strenuously endeavoured to keep at 
 Bombardment ^ distance, at length fell on this de- 
 ofthe city, and Voted place. On the •24th of Sep- 
 cruelty of the tember, a terrible bombardment and 
 besieg-ers. cannonade, with red-hot shot, was 
 commenced, which was continued without inter- 
 mission for a whole week. Night and day the 
 flaming tempest fell on the quarter of St. Clair, 
 and speedily involved in contlagration the mag- 
 nificent hotels of that opulent district, the splen- 
 did public buildings which had so long adorned 
 the Place Bellecour, and the beautiful quays of 
 the river. Soon after, the arsenal blew up with 
 a terrific explosion. At length the flames reach- 
 ed the great hospital, one of the noblest monu- 
 ments of the charity of the past age, now filled 
 
 * Toul., iv., 68. t Ann. Reg:.,xxxiii.,406. Toul.,iv.,71. 
 t Jom., iv., 186, 167. Th., v., 310, 311. 
 
 with the wounded and the dying from every 
 quarter of the town ; a black flag was hoisted 
 on its summit to avert the fury of the besiegers 
 from that last asylum of humanity, but this only 
 served to redouble their activity and guide their 
 shot, which were directed with such unerring 
 aim, that after the flames had been two-and-for- 
 ty times extinguished, it was burned to the 
 ground.* 
 
 The ravages of the bombardment, however, 
 increased the suSerings of the inhabitants, u-ith- 
 out diminishing their means of defence. But 
 soon after, the incessant assaults of the Repub- 
 licans made them master of the heights of St. 
 Croix, which commanded the city from a nearer 
 position; and about the same time, the re-en- 
 forcements which arrived from the southern de- 
 partments, now thoroughly roused by the efibrts 
 of the convention, enabled the besiegers to cut 
 oflf all communication between the inhabitants 
 and the country, on which they had hitherto de- 
 pended for proiasions. Before the end of Sep- 
 tember, fifty thousand men were assembled be- 
 fore the walls ; and notwithstanding the most 
 rigid economy in the distribution of food, the 
 pangs of want began to be severely felt. Shortly 
 after,t the garrison of Valenciennes arrived, and 
 by their skill in the management of artillerj', 
 gave a fatal preponderance to the besieging force, 
 while Couthon came up with twenty -five thou- 
 sand rude mountaineers from the quarter of Au- 
 vergne. 
 
 The hopes of the inhabitants had been chiefly 
 rested on a diversion from the side of Dreadful suf- 
 Savoy, where the Piedmontese troops fenngs of the 
 were slowly assembling for ofiensive inhabitants, 
 operations. But these expectations '^^P' ^*'- 
 were cruelly disappointed. After a feeble irrup- 
 tion into the valley of St. Jean de Maurienne, 
 and some ephemeral success, the Sardinian army 
 was driven back in disgrace over Mont Cenis, 
 having failed in taking advantage of an opportu- 
 nity more favourable for the establishment of 
 the Royalist party in the south of France than 
 was ever again to recur. This disaster, coupled 
 with the pressure of famine, now severely weak- 
 ened the spirits of the besieged. Yet, though de- 
 serted by all the world, and assailed by a force 
 which at length amounted to above sixty thou- 
 sand men, the inhabitants nobly and resolutely 
 maintained their defence. In vain the bombard- 
 ment was continued with imexampled severity, 
 and twenty-seven thousand bombs, five thousand 
 shells, and eleven thousand red-hot shot, thrown 
 into the city ; regardless of the iron storm, one 
 half of the citizens manned the works, while the 
 other half watched the flight of the burning pro- 
 jectiles, and carried water to the quarters where 
 the conflagration broke forth. i 
 
 But these efforts, however glorious, could not 
 finally avert the stroke of fate. The convention, 
 irritated at the slow progress of the siege, depri- 
 ved Kellerman of the command, and ordered him 
 to the bar of the convention to give an account 
 of his conduct, although his talent and energy in 
 repelling the Piedmontese invasion had been the 
 salvation of the Republic. The command of the 
 besieging anuy was given to General Doppet, 
 who received orders instantly to reduce Lyons by 
 fire and sword. To quicken his operations, the 
 savage Couthon, as commissioner of the conven- 
 
 * Jom., iv., 187, 189. Tout., iv., 71, 75. Th., v., 306. 
 Lac, xl., 105. Ann. Reg-., xx.tiii., 408. 
 t Lac, xi., 107. Toul., iv., 76. Th., v., 313. 
 % Lac, xi., 104. Bot., i., 247. Th., v., 311. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 287 
 
 tion, was invested with a despotic authority over 
 the generals, and he instantly resolved to carry 
 Lyons by main force, and employ in the stonn 
 the whole sixty thousand men who were employ- 
 ed in the siege.* 
 
 On the 29th of September a general attack was 
 made by the new commander on the 
 Their he- jim-enchmcnts of the besieged, the ob- 
 ■ ject of which was to force the fortified 
 posts at the point of Perrache, near the conflu- 
 ence of the Saone and the Rhone. After an ob- 
 stinate resistance, the batteries of St. Foix, wliich 
 commanded that important point, were carried 
 by the Republicans ; and the bridge of La Mal- 
 aiierre, which connected it with the opposite 
 bank, was forced. No farther intrenchraents re- 
 mained between the assailants and the city ; the 
 last moment of Lyons seemed at hand. But 
 Precy hastened to the scene of danger at the head 
 of a chosen hand of citizens ; the assailants were 
 encountered and driven back, with the loss of 
 above two thousand men, Irom the plain of Per- 
 rache ; but, notwithstanding all their efforts, he 
 could not prevent them from maintaining their 
 ground on the bridge and heights of St. Foix.t 
 
 But all these heroic eflbrts could not arrest the 
 progress of a more fatal enemy within its walls. 
 Famine was consuming the strength of the be- 
 sieged; for long the women had renounced the 
 use of bread, in order to reserve it for the comba- 
 tants ; but they were soon reduced to half a pound 
 a day of this humble fare. The remainder of the 
 inhabitants lived on a scanty supply of oats, 
 which was daily served out, with the most rigid 
 economy, from the public magazine. But even 
 these resources were at length exhausted ; in the 
 beginning of October,: provisions of every kind 
 had failed ; and the thirty sections of Lyons, 
 subdued by stem necessity, were compelled to 
 nominate deputies to proceed to the hostile camp. 
 
 The brave Precy, however, even in this extrem- 
 Precy forces his ityj di.sdained to submit. With 
 way through the generous devotion, he resolved to 
 besiegers' lines, force his way, at the head of a cho- 
 sen band, through the enemy's lines, and seek in 
 foreign climes that freedom of which France had 
 become unworthy. On the night of the 9th of 
 October, the heroic column, consisting of two 
 thousand men, the flower of Lyons, set forth, 
 with their wives and children, and what little 
 property they could save from the ruin of their 
 fortunes. They began, in two columns, their per- 
 ilous march, guided by the light of their burning 
 habitations, amid the tears and blessings of those 
 ii-iends who remained behind. Scarcely had they 
 set out, however, when a bomb fell into an am- 
 munition wagon, by the explosion of which great 
 numbers were killed. Notwithstanding this dis- 
 aster, the head of the column broke the division 
 opposed to it, and forced its way through the lines 
 of the besiegers, but an overwhelming force soon 
 assailed the centre and rear. As they proceeded, 
 they found them.selves enveloped on every side ; 
 all the heights were lined with cannon, and eveiy 
 house filled with soldiers; an indiscriminate 
 massacre took place, in which men, women, and 
 infants alike perished ; and of the whole who 
 left Lyons, scarcely fifty forced their way with 
 Precy into the Swiss territories.§ 
 
 * Jom., iv., 191. Toiil., iv., 79. Th., v., 313, 314. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 192. Lac, xi., 108. 
 
 t Lac. XL, 110. Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 410. Jom., iv., 192. 
 Th., v., 314, 315. 
 
 I) Ann. Reg., irxiii., 410. Lac, xi., 113. Th., v., 315. 
 Jom., iv., 194. 
 
 On the following day the Republicans took 
 
 possession of Lyons. The troops ob- 
 served strict discipline; they were lodged Townci- 
 in barracks, or bivouacked" on the Place P"*"*'^^- 
 Bellecoui- and the Terreaux: the inhabitants in- 
 dulged a fleeting hope that a feeling of humanity 
 had at length touched the bosoms of their con- 
 querors.* They little knew the bitterness of Re- 
 publican hatred : Lyons was not spared ; it was 
 only reserved for cold-blooded vengeance. 
 
 No sooner was the town subdued than Cou- 
 thon entered at the head of the authorities of the 
 convention, and instantly reinstated the Jacobin 
 municipality in full sovereignty, and commis- 
 sioned them to seek out and denounce the guilty. 
 He wrote to Paris that the inhabitants consisted 
 of three cla.s.ses: 1. The guilty rich. 2. The 
 selfish rich. 3. The ignorant workmen, incapa- 
 ble of any wickedness. " The first," he said, 
 " should be guillotined, and their houses destroy- 
 ed ; the fortimes of the second confiscated ; and 
 the third removed elsewhere, and their place sup- 
 plied by a Republican colony." 
 
 " On the ruins of this infamous city," said 
 Barere, in the name of the Committee sane-uinarv 
 of Public Safety, when he announced measures of 
 that Lyons was subdued, " shall be the conven- 
 raised a monument to the eternal glory t"™ '" *^^ 
 of the convention; and on it shall be '"habitants, 
 engraved the inscription, "Lyons made war mi 
 freedom : Lyons is iw more." The name of the 
 unfortunate city was suppressed by a decree of 
 the convention: it was termed the "Commune 
 AfTranchie " All the inhabitants were appoint- 
 ed to be disarmed, and the whole city destroyed, 
 with the exception only of the poor's house, the 
 manufactories, the great workshops, the hospitals, 
 and public monuments. A commission of five 
 members was appointed to inflict vengeance on 
 the inhabitants : at their head were Couthon and 
 Collot d'Herbois. The former presided over the 
 destruction of the edifices, the latter over the 
 annihilation of the inhabitants. Attended by a 
 crowd of satellites, Couthon traversed the finest 
 quarters of the city with a silver hammer; he 
 struck at the door of the devoted houses, exclaim- 
 ing at the same time, " Rebellious house, I strike 
 you in the name of the law!" Instantly the 
 agents of destruction, of whom twenty thousand 
 were in the pay of the convention, surrounded 
 the dwelling and levelled it with the ground. 
 The expense of these demolitions, which contin- 
 ued without interruption for six months, was 
 greater than it cost to raise the princely Hotel of 
 the Invalids : it amounted to the enormous sum 
 of ^£700,000. The palaces thus destroyed were 
 the finest private buildings in France, three sto- 
 ries in height, and erected in the richest style of 
 the buildings of Louis XI V.t 
 
 But this vengeance on inanimate stones was 
 but a prelude to more bloody execu- coiiot d'Her- 
 tions. Collot d'Herbois, the next hois' proceed- 
 proconsul, was animated with an '"^• 
 envenomed feeling towards the inhabitants; ten 
 years before he had been hissed off their stage, 
 and the vicissitudes of the Revolution had now 
 placed resistless power in the hands of an indif- 
 ferent provincial comedian ; an emblem of the 
 too frequent tendency of civil convulsions to el- 
 evate whatever is base, and sink whatever is 
 noble among mankind. The discarded actor re- 
 solved at leisure to gratify a revenge of ten 
 
 * Jom., iv., 194. 
 
 t Lac, xi., 116, 117. Abb6 Guillon, ii., 392. Th., v., 
 317, 318, 356. 
 
288 
 
 HISTORY OP EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. Xm. 
 
 years' dxiration; innumerable benefits since con- 
 ferred on him by the people of Lyons, and no 
 small share of their favour, had not been able to 
 extinguish this ancient grudge. Fouchc (of 
 Kantes), afterward so well known as minister of 
 police under Napoleon, the worthy associate of 
 CoUot d'Herbois, published before his arrival a 
 proclamation, in which he declared "that the 
 French people could acknowledge no other wor- 
 ship but that of universal morality; no other 
 faith but that of its own sovereignty ; that all re- 
 ligious emblems placed on the roads, on the 
 houses, or on public places, should be destroy- 
 ed;* that the mortcloth used at funerals should 
 bear, instead of a religious emblem, a figure of 
 Sleep, and that over the gate of the cemetery 
 should be written. Death is an eternal sleep." 
 Proceeding on these atheistical principles, the 
 
 first step of Collot d'Herbois and 
 ^rueUv""""' Fouche was to institute a fgte in 
 
 honour of Chalier, the P^epublican 
 governor of Lyons, a man of the most execrable 
 character, who had been put to death on the first 
 insurrection against the rule of the convention. 
 The churches were next closed, the priests abol- 
 ished, the decade established, and every vestige 
 of religion extinguished. The bust oi" Chalier 
 was then carriedthrough the streets, followed by 
 an immense crowd of assassins and prostitutes, 
 exclaiming, "A bas les aristocrates ! Vive le 
 guillotine!" after them came an ass, bearing the 
 Gospel, the cross, the communion vases, and all 
 the most sacred emblems of the Christian wor- 
 ship ; the procession came to the Place des Ter- 
 reaux, where an altar was prepared amid the 
 ruins of that once splendid square. Fouche 
 then exclaimed, " The blood of the wicked can 
 alone appease thy manes ! We swear before 
 thy sacred image to avenge thy death : the blood 
 ot the aristocrats shall serve for its incense." 
 At the same time a fire was lighted on the altar, 
 the crucifix and the Gospel were committed to 
 the flames, the consecrated bread trampled un- 
 der the feet of the mob, and the ass compelled 
 to drink out of the communion cup the conse- 
 crated wine. After this, the procession, singing 
 indecent songs, traversed the streets, followed by 
 an ambulatory guillotine.t 
 
 The Revolutionary Tribunal, established un- 
 Dreadful meas- der such auspices, was not slow in 
 ures of the Rev- Consummating the work oi destruc- 
 olutionary Tri- tion. " Convinced, as we are," 
 bunal there. ^^^^ Collot d'Herbois, "that there 
 is not an innocent soul in the whole city but 
 such as was loaded with chains by the enemies 
 of the people, we are steeled against every senti- 
 ment of mercy ; we are resolved that the blood 
 of the patriots shall be revenged in a manner at 
 once prompt and terrible. The decree of the 
 convention for the destruction of Lyons has been 
 passed, but hardly anything has been done for 
 its execution. The work of demolition goes on 
 too slowly : more rapid destruction is required 
 by Republican impatience. The explosion of 
 the mine or the ravages of fire can alone ex- 
 press its omnipotence ; its will can admit of no 
 control, like the mandates of tyrants : it should 
 resemble the lightning of Heaven." " We must 
 annihilate at once the enemies of the Republic; 
 that mode of revenging the outraged sovereignty 
 of the people will be infinitely more appalling 
 than the trifling and insufiicient work of the 
 
 * Moniteur, p. 18, Oct., 1793. Guillon, ii., 332, 337. 
 Lac., xi., 117. 
 t Guaion, 11., 346, 348. Lac., xi., 118. 
 
 guillotine. Often twenty wretches on the same 
 day have undergone punishment, but my impa- 
 tience is insatiable till all the conspirators have 
 disappeared; popular vengeance calls for the 
 destruction of our whole enemies at one blow ; 
 we are preparing the tlmnder."* 
 
 In pursuance of these principles, orders were 
 given to the Revolutionary Tribunal to redouble 
 their exertions. " We are dying of fatigue," 
 said the judges and the executioner to Collot 
 d'Herbois. "Republicans," replied he, "the 
 amount of yonr labours is nothing to mine ; burn 
 with the same ardour as I for your country, and 
 you will soon recover your strength." But the 
 ferocity of their jjersecutors was disappointed by 
 the heroism which most of these victims dis- 
 played in their last moments. Seated on the 
 fatal chariots, they embraced each other with 
 transports of enthusiasm, exclaiming, 
 
 " Mourir pour la patrie 
 Est le sort le plus doux, 
 Lc plus digne d'euvie." 
 
 Many women watched for the hour when 
 their husbands were to pass to execution, pre- 
 cipitated themselves upon the chariot, locked 
 them in their arms, and voluntarily sufiered 
 death by their side. Daughters surrendered their 
 honour to save their parents' lives; but the nron- 
 sters who violated them, adding treachery to 
 crime, led them out to behold the execution of 
 the objects for whom they had submitted to sac- 
 rifices worse than death itself t 
 
 Deeming the daily execution of fifteen or 
 twenty such persons too tardy a dis- Mitrillade 
 play of Republican vengeance, Collot of the pns- 
 d'Herbois prepared a new and simul- oners, 
 taneous mode of punishment. Sixty captives, 
 of both sexes, were led out together, tightly 
 bound in a file, to the Place du Brotteaux ; they 
 were arranged in two files, with a deep ditch on 
 each side, which was to be their place of sepul- 
 chre, wliile gendarmes, with uplifted sabres, 
 threatened with instant death whoever moved 
 from the position in which the)'^ stood. At the 
 extremity of the file, two cannon, loaded with 
 grape, were so placed as to enfilade the whole. 
 The wretched victims beheld with firmness the 
 awful preparations, and continued singing the 
 patriotic h)'mns of the Lyonese till the signal 
 was given and the guns were discharged. Few 
 were so fortunate as to obtain death at the first 
 fire ; the greater part were merely mutilated, and 
 fell uttering piercing cries, and beseeching the 
 soldiers to put a period to their sufferings. Bro- 
 ken limbs, torn off" by the shot, were scattered in 
 eveiy direction, while the blood flow'ed in tor- 
 rents into the ditches on either side of the line.; 
 A second and a third discharge were insulficient 
 to complete the work of destruction, till at length 
 the gendarmerie, unable to witness .such pro- 
 tracted sufferings, rushed in and despatched the 
 suri^ivers with their sabres. The bodies were 
 collected and thrown into the Rhone. 
 
 On the following day, this bloody scene was 
 renewed on a still greater scale. Vast numbers 
 Two hundred and nine captives, who there per- 
 di'awn from the prisons of Roanne, 'shed. 
 were brought before the Revolutionaiy judges 
 at the Hotel de Ville, and, after merely interro- 
 gating them as to their names and professions, 
 the lieutenant of the gendarmerie read a sentence, 
 condemning them all to be executed together. 
 
 * Guillon, ii., 402, 405. Moniteur, 24th Nov., 1793. Th., 
 v., 356. t GuiUoD, li., 416. Lac, xi., 118, 119. 
 
 ; Gaillon.ii., 417. Lac, xi., 121. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 289 
 
 In vain several exclaimed tliat they had been 
 mistaken lor others— that they were not the per- 
 sons condemned. With such precipitance was 
 the aflair conducted, that two commissaries of the 
 prison were led out along with their captives ; 
 their cries, their reclamations, were alike disre- 
 garded. In passing the bridge Morand, the error 
 was discovered upon the prisoners being count- 
 ed : it was intimated to Collot d'Herbois that 
 there were two too many. "What signifies it," 
 said he, " that there are two too many; if they 
 die to-day, they cannot die to-morrow." The 
 whole were brought to the place of execution, a 
 jneadow near the granary of Part Dieu, where 
 they were attached to one cord, made fast to trees 
 at stated intervals, with their hands tied behind 
 their backs, and numerous pickets of soldiers 
 ■disposed so as by one discharge to destroy them 
 all. At a signal given, the fusillade commenced ; 
 but few were killed ; the greater part had only a 
 jaw or a limb broken, and, uttering the most 
 piercing cries, broke loose in their agony from 
 the rope, and were cut down by the gendarmerie 
 in endeavouring to escape.* The great numbers 
 who survived the discharge rendered the work 
 of destruction a most laborious operation, and 
 several were still breathing on the following day, 
 when their bodies were mingled with quicklime, 
 and cast into a common grave. Collot d'Her- 
 bois and Fouch^ w"ere witnesses of this butchery 
 from a distance, by means of telescopes which 
 they directed to the spot. 
 
 AH the other fusillades, of which there were 
 several, were conducted in the same manner. 
 One of th'fem was executed under the windows of 
 a hotel on the Q.uay, where Fouche, with thirty 
 Jacobins and twenty courtesans, were engaged at 
 dinner : they rose from the table to enjoy the 
 spectacle. The bodies of the slain were floated 
 in such numbers down the Rhone, that the waters 
 were poisoned, and the danger of contagion at 
 length obliged Collot d'Herbois to commit them 
 to the earth. During the course of five months, 
 upward of six thousand persons suffered death 
 by the hands of the executioners, and more 
 than double that number were driven into exile. 
 Among those who perished on the scafl!bld were 
 all the noblest and most virtuous characters of 
 Lyons — all who were distinguished either for gen- 
 erosity, talent, or accomplishment. The engineer 
 Morand, who had recently constructed the cele- 
 brated bridge over the Rhone, which bore his 
 name, was among the first to suffer, and he was 
 succeeded by a generous merchant, w'ho.se only 
 crime consisted in having declared that he would 
 give 500,000 francs to rebuild the Hotel Dieu, 
 the noblest monument of charity in Lyons.t 
 
 These dreadful atrocities excited no feeling of 
 indignation in the convention. With disgraceful 
 animosity, they were envious of any city which 
 promised to interfere with the despotism of the 
 Parisian populace, and were secretly rejoiced at 
 an excuse for destroying the wealth, spirit, and 
 intelligence which had sprang up with the com- 
 mercial prosperity of Lyons. " The arts and 
 commerce," said Hebert, " are the greatest ene- 
 mies of freedom. Paris should be the centre of 
 political authority : no community should be suf- 
 fered to exist which can pretend to rival the cap- 
 ital." Barere announced the executions to the 
 convention in the following words: "The corp- 
 ses of the rebellious Lvonese floated down the 
 
 * Giiillon, ii., 427. Lac, xi., 121. 
 t Lac, xi., 121, 122. GuiUoa, ii., 317, 427. 
 Vol. I.— O 
 
 Rhone, will teach the perfidious citizens of Tou- 
 lon the fate which awaits them."* 
 
 The troops engaged in the siege of Lyons 
 were immediately moved towards iliat unhappy 
 city ; twelve battalions of the army of Italy were 
 destined to the same service, and soon forty 
 thousand men were assembled under its walls. 
 It presented, nevertheless, great difiiculties to be 
 overcome.t 
 
 On the land side Toulon is backed by a ridge 
 of lofty hills, on which, for above a cen- Siege of 
 tury past, fortifications had been erected. Toulon. 
 Though formidable to the attacking force, how- 
 ever, these fortified posts were not less dangerous 
 to the besieged, if once they fell into the hands 
 of the enemy, for the greater part of the city and 
 harbour could be reached by their guns. The 
 mountain of Faron and the Hauteur de Grasse 
 are the principal points of this rocky range : on 
 their possession depends the maintenance of the 
 place. :t 
 
 Shortly after their disembarcation, the English 
 made themselves masters of the defile of Olli- 
 ouUes, a rocky pass of great strength, well known 
 to travellers for its savage character, which forms 
 the sole communication between the promontory 
 of Toulon and the mainland of France. An 
 English detachment of six hundred men had 
 driven the Republican posts from this important 
 point ; but the defence having been unwisely in- 
 trusted to a Spanish force, Cartaux assailed it 
 in the beginning of September with » ^ on 
 above five thousand men, and after a »• ~ • 
 slight resistance regained the pass. Its occu- 
 pation being deemed too great a division of the 
 garrison of the tOAvn, already much weakened by 
 the defence of the numerous fortified posts in the 
 vicinity of the harbour, no attempt v/as made to 
 regain the lost ground, and the Republican vi- 
 dettes were pushed up to the external works of 
 Toulon. As a recompense for this important 
 service, Cartaux was deprived of his command 
 by the convention, and Dugommier invested 
 with the direction of the besieging force.§ 
 
 Ev^ery exertion was made by the allied troops 
 and the inhabitants of Toulon, during Allies as- 
 the respite afforded by the siege of semble for 
 Lyons, to strengthen the defences of "'^ ilefence. 
 the town ; but the regular force was too small, 
 and composed of too heterogeneous materials, to 
 inspire any well-grounded confidence in their 
 means of resistance. The English troops did 
 not exceed five thousand men, and little reliance 
 could be placed on the motley crowd of eight 
 thousand Spanish, Piedmontese, and Neapolitan 
 soldiers who composed the remainder of the gar- 
 rison. The hopes of the inhabitants were prin- 
 cipally rested on powerful re-enforcements Irom 
 England and Austria; but their expectations 
 from both these powers were miserably disap- 
 pointed. They made the utmost efforts, how- 
 ever, to strengthen the defence of the place, and 
 in especial endeavoured to render impregnable 
 the Fort Eguillette, placed at the extremity of the 
 promontory which shuts in the lesser harbour, 
 and which, from its similarity to the position of 
 the great fortress of the same name, they called 
 the Little Gibraltar.il 
 
 In the beginning of September Lord M ulgrave 
 arrived, and assumed the command of the whole 
 
 * Lar., xi., 121. Guillon, ii., 307, 308. 
 t Toul.. iv., 81. 
 
 i Aim. Re?., xxxiii.. 415. Tnnl., iv., 81. 
 t, Toul., iv., 81. .lom.. iv., 215. Th., vi. 
 II Th., vi., 52. Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 415. 
 
290 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. Xm. 
 
 garrison, and the most active operations were 
 iniinediately commenced lor siienglaeaing the 
 outworks on lue mountain range benind Uie 
 city.* The heights ol' Malbousquet, ol' Cape 
 Brun, £md of I'Eguilieite, were soon covered 
 with woriis traced out by the Frencn engineers. 
 
 No sooner had General Dugommier laken tiie 
 command, and the wliole besieging ai'my assem- 
 bled, than it was resolved to commence an at- 
 tack on the hill forts which covered ilie harbour ; 
 and lor this jjur^^ose, wliile a false attack was 
 directed against Cape Brun, the principal ehbrt 
 was to be made for uie possession of the Mount- 
 ain of Fai'on and the Fort Malbousquet. With 
 this view, the breaching batteries were placed un- 
 der the direction of a young othcer of artillery, 
 then chief of battalion, destined to outstrip all his 
 predecessoi-s in European history. Napoleon Bo- 
 naparte. Under his able supermtendence, the 
 works of the fort soon began to be seriously dam- 
 aged ; and to interrupt the operation, a sally was 
 resolved upon from the garrison. t 
 
 On the 30th of November, the sally was made 
 Progress of by thiee thousand men from the town, 
 the "siege, to destroy the works on the heights of 
 >io». 3U. Arreimes, from which this annoyance 
 was experienced ; while antther column, of near- 
 ly the same strength, proceeding in the opposite 
 direction, was destined to force the batteries at the 
 gorge of OUiouUes, and destroy the great park 
 placed there. Both attacks were at first crown- 
 ed with complete success; the batteries were 
 carried, and the paik on the point of being taken, 
 when Dugommier, after haranguing the troops, 
 led them back to the charge, and succeeded in 
 repulsing the assailants. Un the side of Arren- 
 nes, the sally was equally Ibnunate ; all the ene- 
 my's works were carried, and their guns spiked ; 
 but the impetuosity of the detachment havmg led 
 them too far in pursuit of the enemy, they were, 
 in their turn, attacked by fresh troops, headed by 
 Napoleon, and driven back to the city with con- 
 siderable loss. In this affair. General O'Hara, 
 who had recently arrived from England, was 
 wounded, and Dugommier was twice struck with 
 spent balls, though without experiencing any se- 
 rious injury. J 
 
 The whole force of the besiegers was now di- 
 rected against the English redoubt, erected in the 
 centre of the works on the neck of land called 
 Eguillette, and regarded as the key of the defence 
 on that quarter. Alter battering the forts for a 
 considerable time, the fire of the besiegers be- 
 came quite incessant for the whole of the 16th 
 of December; and at two o'clock on the 
 Dec. 17. jQoming of the 17th, the Republicans ad- 
 vanced to the assault. They were received with 
 a tremendous fire of grape and musketry from 
 the works, and soon the ditch was filled with the 
 dead and the dying. The column was driven 
 back, and Dugommier, who headed it, gave all 
 over for lost ; but fresh troops continually ad- 
 vancing, with great intrepidity, at length over- 
 powered the Spanish soldiers, to whom a part of 
 the line was intrusted, and surrounded the Brit- 
 ish detachment, nearly three hundred of whom 
 fell while gallantly defending their part of the in- 
 trenchraents. The possession of this fort by the 
 enemy rendered the farther maintenance of the 
 exterior defences impracticable ; and in the night 
 the whole of the allied troops were withdrawn 
 
 * Ann. Re?., xxxHk, 415. t J-m., iv., 219, 2-20. 
 
 i Ana. Res;., 17^3, 414. Jom., it., 220. Toul., iv., 85. 
 Th., VI., 55, 50. Nap., i., 13, 15. 
 
 from the promontory to the city of Toulon.* Na- 
 poleon hud strongly recommended this measure, 
 as the possession of this fort, which command- 
 ed tlie inner harbour, would render the situatioa 
 of the fleet extremely perilous, and, in all proba- 
 bility, lead to the evacuation of the city. 
 While this important success was gained oa 
 
 the side of Fort Eguillette, the Re- t. . 
 
 , ,. .°, ,. ' , Decisive raeas- 
 
 publicans were not less lortunate on u,.es of Napo- 
 ihe other extremity of the line. A icon. Swrm- 
 little belbre daybreak, and shortly ingoftheexte- 
 after the firing had ceased on the '''"'' ^"'''^' 
 promontory, a general attack was made by the 
 enemy on the whole extensive range of posts 
 which crowned the Mountain of Faron. On the 
 eastern side the Republicans were repulsed; but 
 on the north, where the mountain w-as nearly 
 eighteen hundred feet in height, steep, rocky, and 
 apparently inaccessible, they succeeded in ma- 
 king good their ascent through paths deemed im- 
 practicable. Hardly were the allies beginning 
 to congratulate themselves on the defeat of what 
 they deemed the main attack, when they beheld 
 the heights above tlieiu crowded with glittering 
 battalions, and the tricolor flag displayed from 
 the loftiest summit of the mountain.t 
 
 These conquests, which were projected by the 
 genius of Napoleon, were decisive of the fate of 
 the place. The garrison, it is true, still consist- 
 ed of above ten thousand men, and the works of 
 the town itself were as yet uninjured; but the 
 harbour was untenable, as the shot from the 
 heights of Faron and Fort Eguillette ranged over 
 its w'hole extent. Sir Samuel Hood alone warm- 
 ly insi.sted upon the propriety of an immediate 
 effort to regain the outworks which had been lost; 
 his advice was overruled by all the other officers, 
 and it was resolved to evacuate the place.; 
 
 Measures were immediately taken to cany 
 this determination into effect. The 
 exterior forts, which still remained in ^^g^^^^^^'g"" °^ 
 the hands of the allies, were all aban- "* ^ ^^^' 
 doned, and information conveyed to the princi- 
 pal inhabitants that the means of retreat would 
 be afforded them on board the British squadron,, 
 while the fleet was moved to the outer roads, be- 
 yond thd reach of the enemy's fire. But much 
 confusion necessarily ensued witli a garrison 
 composed of so many diflerent nations, and the 
 Neapolitans, in particular, fled liom their posts, 
 and got on board their ships with so much pre- 
 cipitation, that they incurred the derision of the 
 whole garrison. § 
 
 But very diflerent were the feelings with which 
 the unfortunate inhabitants regarded 
 this hasty evacuation of their city. P^Xtamf ' 
 To them it was the harbinger of con- 
 fiscation, exile, and death, Republican conquest, 
 and the reign of the guillotine. With anxious 
 eyes they watched the embarcation of the Brit- 
 ish sick and wounded on the morning of the 18th, 
 and when the fatal truth could no longer be con- 
 cealed that they were about to be abandoned, de- 
 spair and anguish wrung ever}-- heart. The 
 streets were soon in the most frightful state of 
 confusion ; in many, the Jacobins were already 
 firing on the flying groups of women and chil- 
 dren who were hurrying to the quay; and the 
 sides of the harbour were soon filled with a pite- 
 
 * Jom., iv., 223. Tonl., iv., 87. Ann. Reg., 1793, 415. 
 Th., vi., 56, 57. Nap., i., 14, 22, 23. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 415. Jon>., iv., 223. Toul., iv., 88. 
 
 t Nap., i., 14. Ann. Reg., 1793. 415. 
 
 I) Ann. Reg., xxxiii., p. 416,417. Jom., iv.. 224. Th., 
 «., 57. Toul., IV., 88. James, i., 110, 115. 
 
1793] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE, 
 
 291 
 
 ous crowd, entreating, in the name of everything 
 that was sacred, to be saved lioiu tlieir iiuphica- 
 ble enemies. jNTo time was lost in taking the un- 
 fortunate fugitives on board the vessels appoint- 
 ed for that purpose: an operation of no small la- 
 bour and didiculty, for their numbers exceeded 
 f'jurteen thousand.* 
 
 It was resolved in the council that such part 
 Burning of of the French fleet as could be got ready 
 the arsenal for sea should be sent out under the 
 and ileet. Royalist Admiral Trogoti'e, and that 
 the remainder, with all the stores, should be de- 
 stroyed. This was a service of great danger, for 
 the Republicans were fast pressing on the re- 
 treating forces of the besieged, and their shot al- 
 ready began to plunge into the harbour. Sir Sid- 
 ney Smith volunteered to conduct the perilous 
 enterprise, and at midnight proceeded to the ar- 
 senal to commence the work of destruction. He 
 found the galley-slaves, to the number of six hun- 
 dred, the greater part of whom were unfettered, dis- 
 posed to dispute his entrance into the dockyard ; 
 but, by disposing a British sloop so that her guns 
 enfiladed the quay, he was able to overawe them, 
 and at the same time restrain the Jacobins, who, 
 in great numbers and with loud shouts, were as- 
 sembling round its outer palisades. At eight a 
 fireship was towed into the harbour, and at ten 
 the torch was applied, and the flames arose in ev- 
 ery quarter. Notwithstanding the calmness of 
 the night, the lire spread with rapidity, and soon 
 reached the fleet, where, in a short time, fifteen 
 ships of the line and eight frigates were con- 
 sumed or burned to the v.'ater's edge. The vol- 
 umes of smoke which filled the sky; the flames, 
 Avhich burst, as it were, out of the sea, and as- 
 cended to the heavens ; the red light, which illu- 
 minated even the most distant mountains, form- 
 ed, says Napoleon, a sublime and unique spec- 
 tacle. t About micbiight, the Iris frigate, with 
 several thousand barrels of powder, blew up with 
 a terrific explosion, and shortly after the Mon- 
 treal, fireship, experienced the same fate. The 
 burning enabers falling in every direction, and 
 the aAvful violence of the shocks, quelled for a 
 moment the shouts of the Republican soldiers, 
 who now crowded to the harbour's edge, and be- 
 held, with indignant fury, the resistless progress 
 of the conflagration.! 
 
 No words can do justice to the horrors of the 
 „ ,., scene which ensued, when the last 
 
 Horrors of the . r ., n- j ^ 
 
 evacuation. columns 01 the allied troops com- 
 menced their embarcation. Cries, 
 screams, and lamentations were heard in every 
 quarter ; the frantic clainour, heard even across 
 the harbour, announced to the soldiers in the Re- 
 publican camp that the last hope of the Royalists 
 was giving way. The sad remnant of those who 
 had favoured the royal cause, and who had neg- 
 lected to go oS" in the first embarcation, came 
 flying to the beach, and invoked, with tears and 
 prayers, the aid of their British friends. Mothers 
 clasping their babes to their bosoms, helpless 
 children and decrepit old men, might he seen 
 stretching their hands towards the harbour, shud- 
 dering at every sound behind them, and even 
 rushing into the waves to escape the less merci- 
 lul death which awaited them from their coun- 
 trymen. Such as could seize upon boats rushed 
 into them with frantic vehemence, pushed from 
 t he beach without oars, and directed th eir iin- 
 
 * Ann. Rej., xxxiii., p. 41G, 418. James's Naval Hist., 
 '■\ . • Th., VI., 59. t Nap., i., 25. 
 
 X Ann. Roff., xxxiii., 418. Jom., iv., 220. James, i., 117. 
 Th , VI., 5b, 59. Nap., i., 25, 26. .>>^^'- 
 
 steady and dangerous course towards their former 
 protectors. Sir Sidney Smith, with a degree of 
 humanity worthy of his high character, instantly 
 suspended his retreat till not a single individual 
 who claimed his assistance remained on the 
 strand, though the total number borne away 
 amounted to fourteen thousand eight hundred 
 and seventy-seven.* 
 
 The lukewarmness or timidity of the Spanish 
 oflicers, to whom the destruction of the vessels 
 in the basin belore the town had been intrusted, 
 preserved them from destruction, and saved a 
 remnant, consisting of seven ships of the line and 
 eleven Irigates, to the Republic. These, with 
 five ships of the line, sent round to Rochefort at 
 the commencement of the siege, were all that re- 
 mained of thirty-one ships of the line and twenty- 
 five frigates, which were lying in Toulon at the 
 time it lell into the hands of the allies. Three 
 ships of the line and three frigates were brought 
 away untouched, and taken into the English 
 sendee ; the total number taken or destroyed 
 was eighteen ships of the line, nine frigates, and 
 eleven corvettes.t The French soldiers beheld 
 with indescribable anguish the destruction of 
 their fleet : all tliinking men then foresaw that the 
 war now lighted up between the rival states 
 could not be extinguished but by the destruction 
 of one of them. 
 
 The storm which now burst on the heads of 
 the unfortunate Toulonese was truly Dreadful 
 dreadful. The infuriated soldiers rush- cruelty of 
 ed into the town, and, in their rage, the Repub- 
 massacred two hundred Jacobins, who 1'^^°^. 
 had come out to welcome their approach. For 
 twenty-four hours the wretched inhabitants were 
 a prey to the brutality of the soldiers and of the 
 galley-slaves, M'ho were let loose upon the city; 
 and a stop was only put to these horrors by the 
 citizens redeeming them.selves for the enormous 
 sum of 4,000,000 francs, or Xl 76,000. To the 
 honour of Dugommier, it must be added, that he 
 did his utmost both to check the violence of the 
 soldiers, and mitigate the severity of the conven- 
 tion towards the captives. Several thousand 
 citizens, of every age and sex, perished in a few 
 weeks by the sword or the guillotine ; two hun- 
 dred were daily beheaded for a considerable time, 
 and twelve thousand labourers were hired from 
 the surrounding departments to demolish the 
 buildings of the city.t 
 
 But nothing could soften the hearts of that in- 
 exorable body. On the motion of Bare re, it was 
 decreed that the name of Toulon should be 
 changed to that of Port de la Montague, that the 
 houses should be razed to the foundations, and 
 nothing left but the naval and military establish- 
 ments. Barras, Freron, and Robespierre the 
 younger, were chosen to execute the vengeance 
 of the convention on the I'allen city. Military 
 commissions were immediately formed, the pris- 
 ons filled, a Revolutionary Tribunal established, 
 and the guillotine put in permanent activity. 
 The inhuman mitrillades of Lyons were imitated 
 with fearful effect; before many weeks had ex- 
 pired, eight hundred persons had been thus cut 
 oft^: a prodigious proportion out of a population 
 not now exceeding ten thousand souls. One of 
 the victims was an old merchant of the name of 
 
 * Joubert's Memoirs, p. "5. Jom., ii., 226. Ann. Reg-., 
 1793.418. Fonveille. 84. 87. 112. 
 
 t Jom., iv., 225, 226. James, i., 117. Th., vi., 60. Ann. 
 Reif.. xxxiii., 420 
 
 i Jum., iv., 226. Ann. Reg., ixiiii., 421. James, i., 110, 
 117. Revolution, ill., 336. 
 
292 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIU. 
 
 Hughes, eighty-four years of age, deaf, and al- 
 most blind. His only crime was the possession 
 of a fortune of X800,000. He ofl'ered all his 
 wealth but 500,000 livres to save bis life; the 
 judge, deeming that offer inadequate, sent him 
 to the scaffold, and confiscated the whole. " When 
 i beheld tiiis old man executed," said Napoleon, 
 " I felt as if the end of the world was at hand."* 
 Among those struck down in one of the fusillades 
 was an old man, severely, but not mortally 
 wounded. The executioners, conceiving him 
 dead, retired from the scene of carnage ; the per- 
 sons who succeeded them to strip the dead, passed 
 him by, through accident, in the darkness of the 
 night, and he had strength enough left to raise 
 himself from the ground and move from the 
 spot. His foot struck against a body, which 
 gave a groan, and, stooping down, he discovered 
 that it was his own son ! After the first transports 
 of joy were over, they crept along the gromid, 
 and, favoured by the darkness of the night and 
 the inebriety of the guards, they had the good 
 fortune to escape, and lived to recount a tale 
 which would have passed for fiction, if experi- 
 ence had not prov^ed, in innumerable instances, 
 that the horrors and vicissitudes of a revolution 
 exceed anything which the imagination of ro- 
 mance could have conceived.t 
 , Thus terminated this memorable campaign. 
 General re- ^^^ niost remarkable in the annals of 
 flections on France, perhaps in the histor}'- of the 
 the cam- world. From a state of unexampled 
 paign. peril, from the attack of forces which 
 
 would have crushed Louis XIV. in the plenitude 
 of his power, from civil dissensions, which 
 threatened to dismember the state, the Republic 
 emerged triumphant. A revolt, apparently des- 
 tined to sever the opulent cities of tne south from 
 its dominions ; a civil war, which consumed the 
 vitals of the western provinces ; an invasion, 
 which had broken thi-ough the iron barrier of the 
 northern, and shaken the strength of the eastern 
 frontier, were all defeated. The discomfited 
 English had retired from Toulon, the Prussians, 
 iin confusion, had recrossed the Rhine, the tide 
 of conquest was rolled back in the north, and the 
 valour of the Vendeans irretrievably arrested. 
 
 For these immense advantages, the conven- 
 tion were indebted to the energy of their meas- 
 ures, the ability of their councils, and the enthu- 
 siasm of their subjects. In the convulsion of 
 society, not only wickedness, but talent, had risen 
 to the head of affairs ; if history has nothing to 
 show comparable to the crimes which were com- 
 mitted, it has few similar instances of undaunted 
 resolution to commemorate. Impartial justice 
 requires that this praise should be bestowed upon 
 the Committee oi Public Safety; if the cruelty 
 of their internal administration exceeded the 
 worst despotism of the emperors, the dignity of 
 their external conduct rivalled the noblest in- 
 stances of Roman heroism. 
 
 In talent, it was evident that the Republicans 
 had now acquired a decided preponderance over 
 their opponents. This was the natural conse- 
 quence of the concentration of all the ability 
 of France in the military service, and the open- 
 ing which was afl"orded to merit in every rank to 
 aspire to the highest situations. Drawn from 
 the fertile mines of the middling classes, the tal- 
 ent which now emerged in every department, 
 from the general to the sentinel, formed the basis 
 
 * Las Cisas, i., 166. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., xxxiii., 421. Lac, xi., 189. 
 
 of a more intelligent army than had ever been 
 formed in modern Europe, while the inexhausled 
 supplies ot men which the conscription afforded 
 raised it to a numerical amount beyond any- 
 thing hitherto known in the world. 
 
 After having authorized a levy of 300,000 
 men in spring, the convention, in the beginning 
 of August, ordered a levy of 1,200,000 more. 
 These immense armaments, which in ordinary 
 times could never have been attempted by a reg- ■ 
 ular government, were successively brought into 
 the field during the fervour of a Revolution, 
 through the exaltation of spirit which it had pro- 
 duced, and the universal misery which it had en- 
 gendered. The destruction of commerce, and 
 the closing of all pacific employment, augment- 
 ed those formidable bands, which issued as from a 
 fiery volcano, to devastate the surrounding states; 
 and from the annihilation of all the known 
 sources of credit, the government derived un- 
 paralleled financial resources. 
 
 As this was a new element, then for the first 
 time introduced into political contests, so all the 
 established governments of Europe were mista- 
 ken in the means of resisting it. They were not 
 aware of the magnitude of the power which was 
 thus roused into action, and hoped to crush it by 
 the same moderate elforts which had been found 
 successful in former wars. While France, ac- 
 cordingly, strained every nerve to recruit its 
 armies, they contented themselves with maintain- 
 ing their contingents at their former numerical 
 amount, and were astonished when the armies 
 calculated to match 300,000 soldiers failed in 
 subduing a million. Hence the rapid series of 
 successes which, in every quarter, before the 
 end of the year, signalized the Republican arms ; 
 and the explanation of the fact that the allied 
 forces, which in the commencement were eve- 
 rywhere superior, before the close of the cam- 
 paign were on all sides infei'ior to their oppo- 
 nents. 
 
 But most of all did England experience, in this 
 campaign, the bitter consequence of the impru- 
 dent reduction of military force wliich had fol- 
 lowed the close of the American war. With an 
 army at first not exceeding thirty thousand men, 
 what could be achieved against France in the 
 energy of a Revolution? Yet what fair oppor- 
 tunities, never again to recur, were then afforded 
 to crush the hydra in its cradle 1 If thirty thou- 
 sand British troops had been added to the Duke 
 of York's army at the siege of Dunkirk, that im- 
 portant fortress would speedily have fallen, and 
 the advance of the allied army palsied all the ef- 
 forts of the convention ; if the same force had 
 aided the insurgents of La Vendee, the white flag 
 would have been advanced to the Tuileries ; if 
 it had been sent to Toulon, the constitutional 
 throne would have been at once established in 
 all the south of France. What countless sums, 
 what gigantic efforts, were required to regain the 
 ground then lost ! The affairs of Napoleon in the 
 spring of 1814 were not so hopeless as those of the 
 Republic would have been, if such an addition 
 could have been made at that critical moment 
 to the British invading force. 
 
 This ruinous system of reducing the forces of 
 the coimtry upon the conclusion of hostilities, is 
 the cause of almost all the discomfitures which 
 tarnish the reputation, and of more than half the 
 debt which now curbs the energies of Britain. 
 The cause, incident to a free constitution, has 
 been well explained by Dean Tucker. " The 
 patriot and furious anti-courtier always begins 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 293 
 
 with schemes of frujrality, and is a zealous sup- 
 porter of measures of economy. He loudly ex- 
 claims against even a small Parliamentary army, 
 both on account of its danger and expense. By 
 persevering in these laudable endeavours, he pre- 
 vents such a number of forces by land and sea 
 fro!n being kept up as are necessary for the com- 
 mon safety of the kingdom. The consequence 
 is, when a war breaks out, new levies are half- 
 formed and half disciplined, squadrons at sea 
 are half manned, and the officers mere novices 
 in their business. Ignorance, unskilfulness, and 
 confusion are unavoidable for a time, the neces- 
 sary result of which is some defeat received, 
 some stain or dishonour cast upon the arms of 
 Britain. Thus the nation is involved in ex- 
 penses ten times as great, and made to raise 
 forces twenty times as numerous as were com- 
 plained of before, till peace is made, and schemes 
 
 of ruinous economy are again called for by a new 
 set of patriots. Thus the patriotic farce goes 
 round, ending in real tragedy to the nation and 
 mankind."* It seems hopeless to expect that 
 this popular cry for costly economy will ever 
 cea.se in pacific periods, because, even with the 
 recent proof of its ruinous effect at the com- 
 mencement of the Revolutionar}' war, we have 
 seen it so fiercely raised for the reduction of the 
 noble force which brought it to a glorious termi- 
 nation. It seems the melancholy fate of each 
 successive generation to be instructed by its own, 
 and never by its predecessors' errors : and per- 
 haps it is a law of nature, that such causes should, 
 at stated periods, prostrate the strength of free 
 states, and prevent that progressive growth of 
 their power which might othei-wise sink the 
 emulation of independent kingdoms in the slum- 
 ber of imiversal dominion. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 REIGN OP TERROR — FROM THE DEATH OF DANTON TO THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Origin of the Atrocities of the Reign of Terror. — It springs 
 from sacrificing Justice to supposed Expedience. — Princi- 
 ples of Robespierre's Government after the Fall of Dan- 
 ton. — Political Fanaticism of the Period.— Character of 
 St. Just and Couthon. — Their prodigious Energy.— Great 
 Accumulation of Prisoners at Paris, and throughout 
 France. — Pretended Conspiracy in the prisons. — Picture 
 of the Prisons duiing this Period. — Dreadful System of 
 Espionage in Paris and the other Towns of France. — Con- 
 vention meanwhile is occupied with the Civic Virtues. — 
 "Unsuccessful Attempt to Assassinate Robespierre. — Fete 
 in Honour of the Supreme Being.— Additional Powers con- 
 ferred on the Revolutionary Tribunal. — Debate on it in 
 the Assembly ; but it is nevertheless carried. — Rapid In- 
 crease of the Proscriptions.— Means by which the Support 
 of the People was secured. — Cruelties in the Provinces. — 
 Lebon at Arras. — Carrier at Nantes. — General Apathy of 
 the Class of Proprietors. — Execution of Malesherbes and 
 his Family. — Of Madame Elizabeth.— Of Custme's Son, 
 Marshal Luckner, Biron, Lamartiliere, and Dietrich. — 
 Agony of the Prisoners. — Death of the Princess of Mona- 
 co, Lavoisier, Roucher, and others. — Horror at length ex- 
 cited liy the frequency and descent in Society of the Ex- 
 ecutions. — Advantage first taken of the Superstition of 
 Robespierre. — Suspicions of Robespierre awakened. — 
 Henriot and St. Just recommend vigorous Measures. — In- 
 surrection agreed on at the Jacobins'. — Measures of the 
 Convention to resist it. — The Contest begins in the As- 
 sembly. — Robespierre's Speech. — Cambon's Reply. — Ex- 
 traordinary Meeting of the Jacobins. — Mutual Prepara- 
 tions during the Night. — Meeting of the Convention on 
 the 9th Thermidor. — Vehement Eloquence of Tallien. — 
 Consternation of Robespierre. — Robespierre, Couthon, 
 St. Just, and Henriot ordered to be arrested. — Robes- 
 pierre is imprisoned, but liberated by the People. — Firm- 
 ness of Tallien and his Party. — The Cannoniers desert 
 Henriot in the Place Carrousel. — Dreadful Agitation at 
 Paris. — The Sections join the Convention. — Prejiarations 
 at the Hotel de Ville. — The Cannoniers desert Robes- 
 pierre, who is arrested. — Dreadful Scene at his Seizure. 
 — Executed with St. Just, Henriot, Couthon, and their 
 Party. — Reflections on the Reign of Terror, with the pro- 
 digious Number of its Victims. 
 
 " Omnia mala exempla," .says Sallust, '-banis 
 inUiis orta sunt." "E I'ordine di questi acci- 
 dent!," says Machiavel, "e che mentre che gli 
 uomini cercano di non temere, cominciano a 
 fare temere altrui, et quella injuria che gli scac- 
 ciano di loro, la pongono sopra un altro, come 
 se fusse necessario, offendere o esser offeso."*t 
 
 * Discors6, 46. 
 
 t " All bad actions," says Sallnst, " spring from good be- 
 ginnings : " and the progress of these events," says Machia- 
 vel, " is this, that in their efforts to avoid fear, men inspire 
 it in others, and that injury which they seek to ward off 
 themselves, they throw upon their neighbours, so that it 
 s«ems inevitable either to give or receive offence." 
 
 "You are quite wrong," said Napoleon to 
 Talma, in the representation of Nero; "you 
 should conceal the tyrant : no man admits his 
 wickedness either to others or himself. You and 
 I speak history, but M^e speak it like other men."t 
 The words which Sallust puts into the mouth 
 of Csesar, and Napoleon addressed to the actor 
 of Nero, point to the same, and one of the most 
 impoitant principles of human nature. When 
 vice appears in its native deformity, it is uni- 
 versally shunned; its features are horrible alike 
 to others and itself: It is by borrowing the lan- 
 guage and rousing the passions of virtue that it 
 insinuates itself into the minds, not only of the 
 spectators, but the actors ; the worst deeds are 
 committed by men who delude themselves and 
 others by the noblest expressions. Tyranny 
 speaks with the voice of prudence, and points to 
 the dangers of popular insurrection ; ambitioa 
 strikes on the chords of patriotism and loyalty, 
 and leads men to ruin others in the belief that 
 they are saving themselves ; Democratic fury 
 appeals to the spirit of freedom, and massacres 
 thousands in the name of insurgent humanity. 
 In all these cases men would shrink with horror 
 from themselves if their conduct appeared in 
 its true colours; they become steeped in crime 
 while yet professing the intentions of virtue, and 
 before they are well aware that they have trans- 
 gressed its bounds. 
 
 All these atrocities proceed from one source ; 
 criminality in them all begins when origin of the 
 one line is passed. This source is atrocities of 
 the principle of expedience, this line the Reign of 
 is the line of justice. " To do evil Terror, 
 that good may come of it" is not the least pro- 
 lific cause of wickedness. It is absolutely ne- 
 cessary, say the politicians of one age, to check 
 the growing spirit of heresy ; discord in this 
 world, damnation in the next, follow in its steps; 
 religion, the fountain of peace, is in danger of 
 being polluted by its poison ; the transient suffer- 
 ing of a few individuals will ensure the eternal 
 
 " Tucker's Essays, i., 72. t Napoleon, ii., p. 274. 
 
 X " Vice is a monster of such hideous mien, 
 That to be hated needs hut to be seen ; 
 But seen too oft, familiar with his face. 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 
 
294 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIV. 
 
 salvation of millions. Such is the language of 
 religious intolerance, such the principles which 
 lighted the hres of Smithheld. How cruel soever 
 it may appear, saj' the statesmen of another, to 
 sacrifice life for property, it is indispensable in 
 an age of commercial industry ; the temptations 
 to fraud are so great, the facilities of commission 
 so extensive, that, but for the terror of death, 
 property would be insecure, and industry', with 
 all its blessings, nipped in the bud. Such is the 
 language of commercial jealousy, of that san- 
 guinary code which the humanity and extended 
 -wisdom of England is only beginning to relax. 
 You would not hesitate, say the leaders of anoth- 
 er period, to sacrifice a hundred thousand men 
 in a single campaign, to preserve a province, or 
 conquer a frontier towm ; but what are the wars 
 of princes to the eternal contest between freedom 
 and tyranny ; and what the destruction of its 
 present enemies to the liberty of unborn millions 
 of the human racel Such is the language of 
 revolutionary cruelty; these the maxims which, 
 beginning with the enthusiasm of philanthro- 
 pists, ended in the rule of Robespierre. Their 
 imexampled atrocities arose from the influ- 
 ence yielded to a single principle; the great- 
 est crimes which the world has ever known, 
 were but an extension of the supposed expedi- 
 ence which hangs for forgery and burns for 
 heresy. 
 
 The error in all these cases is the same, and 
 consi-sts in supposing that what is 
 from" acri- ""Just ever can be ultimately expedi- 
 ficinj jus- ent, or that the Author of Nature would 
 tice to sup- have implanted feelings in the human 
 posed expe- heart which the interests of society re- 
 dieace. ^^j^.^ ^^ ^^ continually violated. " A 
 little knowledge," says Lord Bacon, " makes 
 men irreligious, but extended wisdom brings 
 them back to devotion ;" with equal truth it may 
 be said, " That a little experience makes gov- 
 ernments and people iniquitous, but extended in- 
 formation brings them back to the principles of 
 justice." The real interests of society, it is at 
 last perceived, can only be secured by those 
 measures whieh command universal concur- 
 rence, and none can finally do this but such as 
 are founded on the original feelings of our na- 
 ture. It is by attending only to the Jirst effect of 
 unjust measures that men are ever deceived on 
 this subject; when their ultimate consequences 
 come to be appreciated, the expedience is found 
 all to lie on the other side. When the feelings 
 of the great body of mankind are outraged by 
 the measures of government, a reaction invaria- 
 bly follows, and the temporary' advantages of in- 
 justice are more than counterbalanced by the 
 permanent dissatisfaction which it occasions. 
 The surest guide, it is at length discovered, is 
 to be found in the inward monitor which nature 
 has implanted in every human heart ; and states- 
 men are taught, by experience, that true wisdom 
 consists in following what their conscience tells 
 them to be just, in preference to what their lim- 
 ited experience or mistaken views may appre- 
 hend to be expedient. 
 
 The truth of these principles was strongly 
 Principles of exemplified in the latter stages of 
 Eobespicrre-s the French Revolution. During the 
 government four months which elapsed between 
 after the fall jj^g ^q^^]^ ^f Danton and the fall of 
 of Danton. Robespierre, Death became the sole 
 engine of government; systematic and daily ex- 
 ecutions took place in the capital; extermina- 
 tion, conducted by despotic agents, prevailed in 
 
 the provinces, and yet nothing but the language 
 of philanthropy was breathed in the convention, 
 nothing but the noblest sentiments were uttered 
 by the decemvirs. Each defeat of their rivals 
 only rendered the ruling faction more sanguina- 
 ry; the successive proscriptions of the Royal- 
 ists, of the Girondists, of the Constitutionalists, 
 and of the Anarchists, were immediately follow- 
 ed by a more violent effusion of human blood. 
 The destinies of France, as of every other coun- 
 try which undergoes the crisis of a revolution, 
 had fallen into the hands of men who, bom of 
 the public convulsions, Avere sustained by them 
 alone ; they massacred in the name of their 
 principles, they massacred in the name of the 
 public welfare, but terror of their rivals was the 
 real spring of their actions. The noblest and 
 most sacred motives which can influence the hu- 
 man breast — virtue, humanity, the public good, 
 the freedom of the world — were incessantly invo- 
 ked to justify their executions, to prolong a pow- 
 er founded on the agony of the people.* 
 
 The death of Danton was followed by imme- 
 diate and unqualified submission from every 
 part of France. Legendre himself, his old friend, 
 said at the Jacobin club, "lam bound to declare 
 before the people that I am fully convinced, by 
 the documents I have inspected, of Danton's 
 guilt. Before his accusation I was his intimate 
 friend ; I would have answered for his patriotism 
 with my head ; but his conduct, and that of his 
 accomplices at their trial, leave no doubt of their 
 intentions." The same sentiments were re-ech- 
 oed from every part of France. From all the 
 departments arrived a ci'owd of addresses, con- 
 gratulating the Committee of Public Safety and 
 the convention on their energy. Everyone has- 
 tened to make his submission to the government, 
 and to admit the justice of its proceedings. But 
 while approbation was in everj' mouth, submis- 
 sion in every countenance, terror in every heart, 
 hatred at the oppressors was secretly spreading, 
 and the downfall of Democratic tyranny prepa- 
 ring, amid the acclamations of its triumph. t 
 
 The political fanaticism of that extraordinary 
 period exceeded the religious fervour political fa- 
 of the age of Cromwell. Posterity naticismof 
 will find it as difiicult to credit the the period, 
 one as the other. " Plus le corps social trans- 
 pire," said Collot d'Herbois, "plus il devient 
 sain." " II n'y a que les morts qui ne revient 
 pas," said Barere. " Le Vaisseau de la Revo- 
 lution, ne pent arriver au port que sur une mer 
 rougie de flots de sang," said St. Just. " Une 
 nation ne se regenere que sur des monceaux des 
 cadavres," rejoined Robespierre. Such were the 
 principles daily carried into practice for months 
 together in every town of France.; Alone and 
 unresisted, the Committee of Public Safety 
 struck repeated and resistless blows from one 
 end of the kingdom to the other. Fertile in 
 crime, abounding in -wTetchedness, that eventful 
 reign was not wanting in the most heroic exam- 
 ples of virtue. "Non tamen adeo Virtutum ste- 
 rile seculum, ut non et bona exempla prodiderit. 
 Comitates liberos profugos matres, secutie ma- 
 ritos in exilia conjuges, propinqui ardentes, con- 
 stantes generi,§ contumax etiam adversus tor- 
 menta servorum fides, supremce clarorum viro- 
 rum necessitates, ipsa necessitas fortiter tolerata, 
 et laudatis antiquorum mortibus pares exitus."il 
 
 ' Mi?., ii., 316. Th., vi., 223. t Th.. vi., 223, 225 
 
 t Mi?., ii., 317. Riouffe, 181-186. Rev. Mem., ilii., 186. 
 t) Tac, Hist., i., 2. 
 S Yet the age was not so steril in virtue as to be dosti- 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 295 
 
 The professed object of the decemvirs was to 
 establish a rejniblic in I'rance alter the model 
 of the ancients; to change the manners, the hab- 
 its, the public spirit of the country. Sovereign- 
 ty in tlie people, magistrates without pride, citi- 
 zens without vice, simplicity of manners, liater- 
 nity of relations, ausierity of character : such 
 were the basis on which their institutions were 
 to rest. There was one objection to them, that 
 they were utterly impracticable from the charac- 
 ter of the great body of mankind. To accom- 
 plish this object, it was indispensable to destroy 
 the whole superior classes of society, to cut oli' 
 all those who were pre-eminent among their 
 neighbours, either for fortune, rank, talent, or 
 acquirement. This was the end accordingly 
 proposed in the indiscriminate massacres which 
 they put in execution. And what would have 
 been its consequence if completely carried into 
 eftect"? To sink the whole human race to the 
 level of the lowest classes, and destroy every- 
 thing which dignifies or adorns human nature. 
 Such was the chimera which they followed 
 through these oceans of blood. Politicians have 
 no right, after such proceedings, to reproach re- 
 ligious enthusiasm with the reign of the saints 
 or the approach of the millennium.* 
 
 In pursuance of these views, St. Just made a 
 laboured report on the general police of the com- 
 monwealth, in which he recapitulated all the 
 fabulous stories of conspiracies against the Re- 
 public, explaining them as efibrts of every spe- 
 cies of vice against the austere rale of the peo- 
 ple, and concluding with holding out the neces- 
 sity of the gov^ernment striking without inter- 
 mission till it had cut otf all those whose coirup- 
 tion opposed itself to the establishment of virtue. 
 " The Ibundation of all great institutions," said 
 he, " is terror. Where would now have been an 
 indulgent Republic 1 We have opposed the 
 sword to the sword, and its power is in conse- 
 quence established. It has emerged from the 
 storm, and its origin is like that of the earth out 
 of the confusion of chaos, and of man who weeps 
 in the hour of nativity." As a consequence of 
 these principles, he proposed a general measure 
 of proscription against all the nobles, as the irrec- 
 oncilable opponents of the Revolution: "You 
 will never," said he, " satisfy the enemies of the 
 people till you have re-established tyranny in all 
 Its horrors. They can never be at peace with 
 you ; you do not speak the same language ; you 
 will never understand each other. Banish them 
 "by an inexorable law : the universe may receive 
 them, and the public safely is our justification." 
 A hi 10 1-94 ^^ ^'^^'^ proposed a decree which 
 ^" ' ' ■ banished all the ex-nobles, all stran- 
 gers from Paris, the Ibrtified towns, and sea- 
 ports of France ; and declared hors la loi whoev- 
 er did not yield obedience in ten hours to the or- 
 der. It was received with applause by the con- 
 vention, and passed, as all the decrees of govern- 
 ment at that time, by acclamation.! 
 
 The Committee of Public Safety now confi- 
 dent in its own strength, and strong in the univer- 
 sal submis.sion of France, decreed the disbanding 
 of the Revolutionary army raised to overawe 
 the capital. At the same time, the situations of 
 
 tntp of sreat eiaiiiples. Mothers attemied their dying- chil- 
 dren, wives followed their exiled husbands, relations were 
 undaunted, sons-m-law unshaken, firm even against the ut- 
 most tortures the fidelity of slaves, the illustrious subjected 
 to the last necrt^sities ; necessity itself t'lavely endured, and 
 death, equal to the most renowned of antiquity, of daily cc- 
 currenre. * M12.. i'., 317. 
 
 t Th., vi., 228, 230. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 36, 39. 
 
 the diflerent ministers were abolished, and twelve 
 committees appointed to carry on the details of, 
 government. 'I'hese commissions, entirely ap- 
 pointed by the Cummittce of Public Salety, and 
 dependant on their will, were, in lact, nothing but 
 the ollices in which they exercised their mighty 
 and despotic powers.* 
 
 Shortly after, steps were taken to extinguish 
 all the popular societies which did not immedi- 
 ately depend on the great parent club of the Jac- 
 obins. It was resolved at that society that they 
 would no longer receive any deputation from 
 bodies formed since the 10th of August, or keep 
 up any correspondence with them; and that a 
 committee should be appointed to consider 
 whether it should be maintained with those 
 which were formed before that event. This 
 measure, directed in an especial manner against 
 the club of the Cordeliers, the centre of the influ- 
 ence of Danton, soon produced the desired eflect. 
 Intimidated by the destruction of the leaders of 
 that great society, the whole other clubs in. 
 France, to avoid the coming storm, dissolved 
 themselves ; and in less than ten days after the 
 j)romulgation of tliis resolution, there remained 
 no secondary club in France but those which 
 were alhliated with the Jacobins at Paris, which 
 thenceforward became the sole organ of govern- 
 ment in regulating public opinion. It was next 
 proposed to close the sittings of the Cordeliers ; 
 but this was unnecessary ; that club, once so 
 terrible, rapidly declined, and soon died a natu- 
 ral death. The Jacobins, swayed with absolute 
 power by the Committee of Public Safety, with 
 their afiiliated societies, alone remained of all 
 the innumerable clubs which had sprung up in 
 I-'rance. Thus, on all sides, the anarchy of rev- 
 olution was destroying it,self, and out of its ruins 
 the stern and relentless despotism of a few polit- 
 ical fanaticst was wringing out of the heart's 
 blood of France the last remnants of Democratic 
 fervour. 
 
 Robespierre was the leader of this sect of fa- 
 natics ; but he was associated in the 
 committee with zealots more unpitia- st Jusr"^ °^" 
 ble or less disinterested than himself. 
 These were St. Just and Couthon. The former 
 exhibited the true features of gloomy fanaticism : 
 a regular visage, dark and lank hair, a penetra- 
 ting and severe look, a melancholy expression 
 of countenance, revived the image of those des- 
 perate Scottish enthusiasts of whom modern ge- 
 nius has drawn so graphic a picture. t Simple 
 and unostentatious in his habits, austere in pri- 
 vate, and indefatigable in public, he was, at 
 twenty-five, the most resolute, because the most 
 sincere of the decemvirs. A warm admirer of 
 the Republic, he was ever at his post in the com- 
 mittees, and never wanting in resolution during 
 his missions to the armies; enthusiastic jn his 
 pa.ssion for the multitude, he disdained, like He- 
 bert, to imitate its vices or pander to its desires. 
 Steeled against every sentiment of pity, he de- 
 manded the execution of victims in the same 
 manner as the supply of the armies. Proscrip- 
 tions, like victories, were essential to the further- 
 ance of his principles. He early attached him- 
 self to Robespierre, from the similarity of their 
 ideas, and the reputation of incorruptibility which 
 he enjoyed ; their alliance created a portentous 
 combination of envious, domineering passion, 
 with inflexible and systematic severitv.§ 
 
 * Th., vi , 230, 231. t Th , vi , 334-336. 
 
 t Kurley in Old Mortality, by Sir Walter Scott. 
 t) Mig., ii., 31S, 319. 
 
296 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIV. 
 
 Couthon was the creature of Robespierre. A 
 AdC th mild expression of countenance, a fig- 
 ure half paralyzed, concealed a soul 
 animated with the most unpitiable fanaticism. 
 These three men formed a triumvirate, which 
 soon acquired the management of the committee, 
 and awakened an animosity on the part of the 
 other members which ultimately led to their 
 ruin. In the mean while, however, they wielded 
 the whole powers of government ; if the assem- 
 bly was to be intimidated, St. Just was employ- 
 ed; if surprised, Couthon was intrusted; if any 
 opposition was manifested, Robespierre was sent 
 for, and his terrible voice soon stifled the ex- 
 pression of discontent.* 
 
 To accomplish their regeneration of the social 
 
 body, the triumvirate proceeded with 
 
 3^^'/P„ '; gigantic energy, and displayed the 
 gious energy, o s oj > r j 
 
 most consummate ability, t or two 
 months after the fall of Danton, they laboured 
 incessantly to confirm their power. Their com- 
 missioners spread terror through the departments, 
 and communicated the requisite impulse to the 
 affiliated Jacobin clubs, which alone now re- 
 mained in existence. The National Guard was 
 universally devoted to their will, and proved the 
 ready instrument of the most sanguinarj' meas- 
 ures. The armies, victorious on ever)' side, 
 warmly supported their energetic administra- 
 tion, and made the frontiers resound with the 
 praise of the government. Strong in the support 
 of such powerful bodies, the fanatical leaders of 
 the Revolution boldly and universally began the 
 work of extermination. The mandates of death 
 issued from the capital, and a thousand guillo- 
 tines in.stantly were raised in eveiy town and 
 village of France. Amid the roar of cannon, 
 the rolling of drums, and the sound of the tocsin, 
 the suspected were everj'where arrested, while 
 the young and active marched off to the defence 
 of the country ; fifteen hundred Bastiles, spread 
 through the departments, soon groaned with the 
 multitude of captives; unable to contain their 
 numbers, the monasteries, the palaces, the cha- 
 teaux, were generally employed as temporarj' 
 places of confinement. t The abodes of festivity, 
 the palaces of kings, the altars of religion, were 
 loaded with victims ; fast as the guillotine did 
 its work, it could not reap the harvest of death 
 which everywhere presented itself; and the 
 crowded state of the prisons soon produced con- 
 tagious fevers, which swept off thousands of 
 their unhappy inmates. 
 
 To support these violent measures, the utmost 
 care was taken to preserve in full vigour the 
 Democratical spirit in the club of the Jacobins, 
 the centre of the Revolutionary action through- 
 out France. By successive purifir-ations, as they 
 were called, all those who retained any senti- 
 ments of humanity, any tendency towards mod- 
 eration, were expelled, and none left but men of 
 iron, steeled against every approach to mercy. 
 The club in this way, at length, became the com- 
 plete quintessence of cruelty, and the focus of 
 the most fearful Revolutionary energ\\ Its influ- 
 ence daily augmented ; as he approached the 
 close of his career, Robespierre, suspicious of 
 the convention and the Mountain, rested almost 
 entirely on that chosen band of adherents, whose 
 emissaries ruled with absolute sway the muni- 
 cipality and the departments.? 
 
 * Mig.. ii., 319, 320. 
 
 t Pr. Ilist. Lac, ii., 149. Mig., ii., 320. Chateaub., 
 Essai Hist.. CEnv., i., 61-63. 
 
 ; Tout., iv., 3tiO. Chateaub., CEuv., i., 61. Mig., ii., 320. 
 
 Seven thousand prisoners were soon accu- 
 mulated in the different places of „ . 
 
 . „ . 1; Great accumu- 
 
 confineraent in Pans ; the num- jation of cap- 
 ber throughout France exceeded tives at Paris, 
 200,000. The condition of such a and throughout 
 multitude of captives was neces- '^'"a'^'^^- 
 sarily miserable in the extreme ; the prisons of 
 the Conciergerie, of the Force, and the Mairie^ 
 were more horrible than any in Europe. All the 
 comforts which, during the first months of the 
 Reign of Terror, were allowed to the captives 
 of fortune, were withdrawn. Such luxuries, it 
 was said, were an insupportable indulgence to 
 the rich aristocrats, while without the prison- 
 walls the poor were starving lor want. In con- 
 sequence, they established refectories, where the 
 whole prisoners, of whatever rank or sex, were 
 allowed only the coarsest and most unwhole- 
 some fare. None were permitted to purchase 
 better provisions for themselves ; and to prevent 
 the possibility of their doing so, a rigorous search 
 was made for money of every description, which, 
 was all taken from the captives. Some were 
 even denied the sad consolation of bearing their 
 misfortunes together; and to the terrors of soli- 
 tary confinement were added those of death^ 
 which daily became more urgent and inevitable. 
 Not content with the real terrors which they pre- 
 sented, the ingenuit)' of the jailers was exerted to 
 produce imaginar}' anxiety ; the long nights 
 were frequently interrupted by visits from the 
 executioners, solely intended to excite alarm - 
 the few hours of sleep allowed to the victims 
 were broken by the rattling of chains and unbar- 
 ring of doors, to induce the belief that their fel- 
 low-prisoners were about to be led to the scaf- 
 fold ; and the warrants for death against eighty- 
 persons were made the means of keeping six 
 liundred in agony.* 
 
 Dissatisfiecl with the progress of the executions, 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal fell upon Pretended 
 an extraordinary expedient to acceler- conspiracy 
 ate them. By the prospect of amnesty in the pris- 
 to themselves, they prevailed on some °°^' 
 of the basest of the captives to announce a pro- 
 ject for escape in the prisons. " We must have 
 a conspiracy," said Fouquier Tinville, " in the 
 prisons ; its chiefs are already named ; choose 
 their companions — we must have sixty or a hun- 
 dred." The victims whom the traitors selected 
 were those whose rank or fortune was most 
 likely to render them acceptable to the commit- 
 tee ; their names were announced aloud in the 
 prisons, and they were led out next morning to 
 execution.t 
 
 Despair of life, recklessness of the future, pro- 
 duced their usual effects on the unhappy crowd 
 of captives. Some sunk into sullen indifference ; 
 others indulged in immoderate gayety, and sought 
 to amuse life even to the foot of the scaffold. 
 The day before his execution, the poet Ducor- 
 neau composed a beautiful ode, which was sung 
 in chorus by the whole prisoners, and repeated, 
 with a slight variation, after his execution.t At 
 other times the scene changed : in the midst of 
 
 * Th., Ti.. 18, 149, 150, 319. RioufFe, 83. Lac., ii., 149. 
 Toul., iv., 358, 360. 
 
 t Lac, ii , 1150, 151. Th., vi., 363. 364. 
 t In the transport of the moment, another exclaimed, in ex- 
 tempore verse, 
 
 " Amis ! Combien il y a d'attraits 
 L'lustant on s'anissent nos ames ! 
 Le cceur juste est toiijours en paiz, 
 Odciux plaisir qui n'eut jamais 
 1/Amljitieux avec ses trammes ; 
 Venez Buurreaux ; nous sommes prfits." 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 297 
 
 their ravings, the prisoners first destined for the 
 scaffold were transported by the Phedon of Plato 
 and the death of Socrates ; infidelity in its last 
 moments betook itself with delight to the sublime 
 belief of the immortality of the soul. The afl'ec- 
 tions, continually called forth, flowed with un- 
 common warmth ; their mutual fate excited 
 among the prisoners the strongest feelings of 
 commiseration ; and nothing astonished the few 
 •who escaped from confinement so much as the 
 want of sympathy for the sufferings of mankind 
 ■which generally prevailed in the world.* 
 
 From the farthest extremities of France, crowds 
 Picture of the of prisoners daily arrived at the gates 
 prisons during of the Conciergerie, which success- 
 this penod. ively sent forth its bands of victims 
 to the scaffold. Gray hairs and youthful fbnns; 
 countenances blooming with health, and faces 
 worn with suffering ; beauty and talent, rank and 
 virtue, were indiscriminately rolled together to 
 the fatal doors. With truth might have been 
 written over their portals what Dante placed 
 over the entrance of the infernal regions : 
 
 " Lasciate og^i speranza, voi ch'entrate." 
 
 Sixty persons often arrived in a day, and as 
 many were on the following morning sent out to 
 execution. Night and day the cars incessantly 
 discharged victims into the prison ; weeping 
 mothers and trembling orphans were thrust in 
 without mercy with the brave and the powerful ; 
 the young, the beautiful, the unfortunate, seemed 
 in a peculiar manner the prey of the assassins. 
 Nor were the means of evacuating the prisons 
 augmented in a less fearful progression. Fifteen 
 only were at first placed on the chariot, but their 
 number was soon augmented to thirty, and grad- 
 ually rose to eighty persons, who daily were sent 
 forth to the place of execution ; when the fall of 
 Robespierre put a stop to the murders, arrange- 
 ments had been made for increasing it to one 
 hundred and fifty. An immense aqueduct, to 
 remove the gore, had been dug as far as the 
 Place St. Antoine, and four men were daily 
 employed in emptying the blood of the victims 
 into that reservoir.t 
 
 It was at three in the afternoon when the mel- 
 ancholy procession set out from the Concierge- 
 rie ; the troop slowly passed through the vaulted 
 passages of the prison, amid crowds of captives, 
 who gazed with insatiable avidity on the aspect 
 of those about to undergo a fate which might so 
 soon become their own. The higher orders, in 
 general, behaved with firmness and serenity ; si- 
 lently they marched to death, with their eyes 
 fixed on the heavens, lest their looks should be- 
 tray their indignation. Nunibers of the lower 
 class piteously bewailed their fate, and called 
 heaven and earth to witness their innocence. 
 The pity of the spectators was in a peculiar 
 manner excited by the bands of females led out 
 together to execution ; fourteen young women of 
 Verdun, of the most attractive forms, were cut 
 off together. " The dav after their execution," 
 says Riouffe, " the court of the prison looked 
 like a garden bereaved of its flowers by a tem- 
 pest." On another occasion, twenty women of 
 Poitou, chiefly the wives of peasants, were 
 placed together on the chariot ; some died on the 
 way, and the wretches guillotined their lifeless 
 remains ; one kept her infant in her bosom till 
 she reached the foot of the scaffold ; the execu- 
 tioners tore the innocent from her breast as she 
 
 * Riouffe, lOa, 111. Th., vi., .S20. 
 t Riouffe, 83, 84. Th., vi., 319. 
 Vol. I.— P p 
 
 suckled it for the last time, and the screams of 
 maternal agony were only stifled with her life. 
 In removing the prisoners from the jail of the 
 Maison Lazare, one of the women declared her- 
 self with child, and on the point of delivery : the 
 hard-hearted jailers compelled her to move on; 
 she did so, uttering piercing shrieks, and at length 
 fell on the ground, and was delivered of an infant 
 in presence of her persecutors.* 
 
 Such accumulated horrors annihilated all the 
 charities and intercourse of life. Before day- 
 break the shops of the provision-merchants were 
 besieged by crowds of women and children^ 
 clamouring for the food which the law of the 
 maximu7ti in general prevented them from ob- 
 taining. The farmers trembled to bring their 
 fruits to the market, the shopkeepers to expose 
 them to sale. The richest quarters of the town 
 were deserted ; no equipages or crowds of pas- 
 sengers were to be seen on the streets ; Dreadful es- 
 the sinister words, Propriiti Nation- pionage in 
 ale, imprinted in large characters on Pans and the 
 the walls, everywhere showed how "^^^^ towns. 
 far the work of confiscation had proceeded. 
 Passengers hesitated to address their most inti- 
 mate friends on meeting ; the extent of calamity- 
 had rendered men suspicious even of those they 
 loved the most. Every one assumed the coarsest 
 dress and the most squalid appearance ; an ele- 
 gant exterior would have been the certain fore- 
 runner of destruction. t At one hour only were 
 any symptoms of animation to be seen ; it was 
 when the victims were conveyed to execution: 
 the humane fled with horror from the sight; the 
 infuriated rushed in crowds to satiate their eyes- 
 with the sight of human agony. 
 
 Night came, but with it no diminution of th& 
 anxiety of the people. Every family early as- 
 sembled its members; with trembling looks they 
 gazed round the room, fearful that the very walls 
 might harbour traitors. The sound of a foot,, 
 the stroke of a hammer, a voice in the streets, 
 froze all hearts with horror. If a knock was 
 heard at the door, every one, in agonized sus- 
 pense, expected his fate. Unable to endure such 
 protracted misery, numbers committed suicide. 
 " Had the reign of Robespierre," says Freron, 
 " continued longer, multitudes would have 
 thrown themselves under the guillotine : the first 
 of social affections, the love of life, was already 
 extinguished in almost every heart."} 
 
 In the midst of these unparalleled atrocities, 
 the convention were occupied with j,^^^^, ^. 
 the establishment of the civic virtues, meanwhile 
 Robespierre pronounced a discourse is occupied 
 on the qualities suited to a republic, with the civ- 
 He dedicated a certain number of the "^ '"'"■"^^■ 
 decennial fetes to the Supreme Being, to Truth, 
 to Justice, to Modesty, to Friendship, to Frugal- 
 ity, to Good Faith, to Glory, and to Immortality? 
 Barere prepared a report on the suppression of 
 mendicity, and the means of relieving the indi- 
 gent poor. Robespierre had now reached the 
 zenith of his popularity w'ith his faction ; he was 
 denominated the Great Man of the Republic; 
 his virtue, his genius, his eloquence, were in ev- 
 ery mouth. § 
 
 "The speech which Robespierre made on this 
 occasion was one of the most remarkable of his 
 whole career. " The idea," said he, " of a Su- 
 
 * Riouffe, 85. 87. Tableau, Hist, de la Maison Lazare,. 
 Rev. Mem., xxiii., 22fi. 
 
 t Lac, ii., 151, 152. Th., vi., 318, 319. 
 
 i Lac, ii., 12. Toul., iv., 235, 236. Riouffe, 63. Fre- 
 ron, 49. * Mig., ji., 320, 32L 
 
298 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIV. 
 
 preme Being, and of the immortality of the soul, 
 is a continual call to justice ; it is therefore a 
 social and Republican principle. Who has au- 
 thorized you to declare that the Deity does not 
 exist? Oh! you who support in such impas- 
 sioned strains so arid a doctrine, what advantage 
 do you expect to derive from the principle that a 
 blind fatality regulates the afiairs of men, and 
 that the soul is nothing but a breath of air im- 
 pelled towards the tombi Will the idea of non- 
 entity inspire man with more pure and elevated 
 sentiments than that of immortality 1 will it 
 awaken more respect for others or himself, more 
 •courage to re.sist tyranny, greater contempt for 
 pleasure or death 1 You who regret a virtuous 
 Iriend, can you endure the thought that his no- 
 blest part has not escaped dissolution? You 
 \rho weep over the remains of a child or a wife, 
 are you consoled by the thought that a handful 
 of dust is all that remains of the beloved object? 
 You, the unfortunate, who expire under the 
 strokes of an assassin, is not your last voice 
 raised to appeal to the justice of the Most High? 
 Innocence on the scalTold, supported by such 
 thoughts, makes the tyrant turn pale on his tri- 
 umphal car. Could such an ascendant be felt 
 if the tomb levelled alike the oppressor and his 
 rictim ? 
 
 " Observe how, on all former occasions, tyrants 
 have sought to stifle the idea of the immortality of 
 the soul. With what art did Caesar, when plead- 
 ing in the Roman senate in favour of the accom- 
 plices of Catiline, endeavour to throw doubts on 
 the belief of its immortality; while Cicero invokes 
 against the traitor the sword of the laws and the 
 vengeance of Heaven ! Socrates, on the verge 
 of death, discoursed with his friends on the enno- 
 bling theme ; Leonidas, at Thennopylac, on the 
 eve of executing the most heroic design ever 
 conceived by man, invited his companions to a 
 banquet in another world. The principles of 
 the Stoics gave birth to Brutus and Cato even in 
 the ages which witnessed the expiry of Roman 
 virtue ; they alone saved the honour of human 
 nature, almost obliterated by the vices and the 
 corruption of the Empire.^ 
 
 " The Encyclopedists, who introduced the 
 frightful doctrine of Atheism, were ever, in pol- 
 itics, below the dignity of freedom ; in morality 
 fhey went as far beyond the dictates of reason. 
 Their disciples declaimed against despotism, and 
 received the pensions of despots ; they compo- 
 sed alternately tirades against kings and mad- 
 rigals for their mistresses; they were fierce with 
 their pens, and rampant in antechambers. Tliat 
 sect propagated, with infinite care, the principles 
 of Materialism : we owe to them that selfish 
 philosophy which reduced egotism to a system ; 
 regarded human society as a game of chance, 
 v.'here success was the sole distinction between 
 what was just and unjust ; probity as an affair 
 of taste or good breeding; the world as the patri- 
 mony of the most dexterous of scoundrels. 
 
 " The priests have figured to themselves a god 
 in their own image ; they have made him jeal- 
 ous, capricious, cruel, covetous, implacable ; 
 they have enthroned him in the heavens as a 
 palace, and called him to the earth only to de- 
 mand lor their behoof tithes, riches, pleasures, 
 honours, and power. The true temple of the 
 Supreme Being is the universe; his worship, vir- 
 ^de ; his fetes, the joy of a great people, assem- 
 bled under his eyes to tighten the bonds of social 
 SLfTection, and present to him the homage of pure 
 and grateful hearts." In the midst of the accla- 
 
 mations produced .by these eloquent „ 
 words, the assembly decreed unani- ^^ > ' ■ 
 mously that they recognised the existence of the 
 Supreme Being, and of the immortality of the 
 soul, and that the worship most worthy of him 
 was the practice of the social virtues.* 
 
 This speech is not only remarkable as con- 
 taining the religious views of so memorable an 
 actor in the bloodiest periods of the Revolution, 
 but as involving a moral lesson of perhaps 
 greater moment than any that occurred during 
 its whole progress. For the first time in the an- 
 nals of mankind, a great nation had thrown off 
 all religious principles, and openly defied the 
 power of Heaven itself; and from amid the 
 wreck which was occasioned by the unchaining 
 of human passions, arose a solemn recognition 
 of the Supreme Being and the immortality of 
 the soul ! It seemed as if Providence had per- 
 mitted human wickedness to run its utmost 
 length, in order, amid the frightful scene, to dem- 
 onstrate the necessity of religious belief, and vin- 
 dicate the majesty of its moral government. In 
 vain an infidel generation sought to establish the 
 frigid doctrine of Materialism ; their principles 
 received their full development : the anarchy 
 they are fitted to induce was experienced, and 
 that recognition was wrung from a suflering 
 which had been denied by a prosperous age. 
 
 Nor is this speech less striking as evincing 
 the fanaticism of that extraordinary period, and 
 the manner in which, during Revolutionary con- 
 vulsions, the most atrocious actions are made to 
 flow from the most pure and benevolent expres- 
 sions. If you consider the actions of Robes- 
 pierre, he appears the most sanguinary tyrant 
 that ever desolated the earth ; if you reflect on 
 his words, they seem dictated only by the noblest 
 and most elevated feelings. There is nothing 
 impossible in such a combination ; the history 
 of the world exhibits too many examples of its 
 occurrence; it is the nature of fanaticism, wheth- 
 er religious or political, to produce it. The In- 
 quisition of Spain, the autv da fi$ of Castile, 
 arose from the same principles as the daily exe- 
 cutions of the French tyrant. It is because rev- 
 olutions lead to such terrible results, by so flow- 
 ery and seductive a path, that they are chiefly 
 dangerous ; and because the ruin thus induced 
 is irrecoverable, that the seducers of nations are 
 doomed by inexorable justice to the same infa- 
 my as the betrayers of individuals. 
 
 Two unsuccessful attempts at assassinatioa 
 increa.sed, as is always the case, the Unsuccess- 
 power of the tyrant. The first of ful attempt 
 these was made by an obscure but '" assassi- 
 intrepid man, of the name of L'Ad- ">' ,^r 
 miral, who tried to assassmate Collot Coilotd'Her- 
 d'Herbois; the second by a young bois. 
 woman named Cecile Renaud. L'Admiral, 
 when brought before his judges, openly avowed 
 that he had intended to assassinate Robespierre 
 before Collot d'Herbois. When called on to di- 
 vulge who prompted him to the commission of 
 such a crime, he replied firmly, '• That it was 
 not a crime ; that he wished only to render a ser- 
 vice to his country ; that he had conceived the 
 project without any external suggestion ; and that 
 his only regret was that he had not succeeded." 
 The latter called at his house, and entreated, in 
 the most earnest manner, to see Robespierre : 
 the urgency of her mnnner excited the suspicion 
 of his attendants, and she was arrested. Two 
 
 Th., Ti., 246-251 
 
i794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 299 
 
 Icnives, found in her bundle, sufRciently evinced 
 the purpose of her visit. Being a^ked what was 
 her motive for wishing to see him, she replied, 
 " I wished to see how a tyrant was made. I ad- 
 mit I am a Royalist, because I prefer one king 
 to tifty thousand." She behaved on the scafl'old 
 with the tirmness of Charlotte Corday : her whole 
 relations, to the number of sixty, were involved 
 in iier fate,* among whom were a number of 
 young men, bravely combating on the frontier in 
 defence of their countrj'. 
 
 Meanwhile, a magnificent f^te was prepared 
 File in hou- ^Y '^^ Convention in honour of the 
 our of the Su- Supreme Being. Two days before 
 preme_^Bemg. it took place, Robespierre was ap- 
 June 7, i,U4. pointed president, and intrusted with 
 the duty of supreme pontiff' on the occasion. 
 He marched filteen feet in advance of his col- 
 leagues, in a brilliant costume, bearing flowers 
 and fruits in his hands. His address which fol- 
 lowed to the people was both powerful and elo- 
 quent; the generous sentiments which it contain- 
 ed revived hopes long dormant in their breasts, 
 but all were dashed by the concluding words. 
 " People ! to-day let us give ourselves up to the 
 transports of pure happiness ; to-morrow we will, 
 with increased energy, combat vice and the ty- 
 rants." The ceremony on this occasion, which 
 was arranged under the direction of the painter 
 David, was very magnificent. An amphitheatre 
 ■was placed in the gardens of the Tuileries, oppo- 
 site to which were statues representing Atheism, 
 Discord, and Selfishness, which were destined to 
 be burned by the hand of Robespierre. Beauti- 
 ful music opened the ceremony, and the presi- 
 dent, after an eloquent speech, seized a torch, 
 and set fire to the figures, which were soon con- 
 jjumed ; and when the smoke cleared away, an 
 cfligy of Wisdom was seen in their place, but it 
 was remarked that it was blackened by the smoke 
 of those that had been consumed. Thence they 
 proceeded to the Champs de Mars, where patri- 
 otic songs were sung, oaths taken by the yoimg, 
 and homage oflfered to the Supreme Being.t 
 
 The Committee of Public Safety being now 
 avowedl)' in possession of supreme power, their 
 adulators in the convention and Jacobin club 
 offered them the ensigns of sovereignty. But 
 they had the good sense to perceive that the peo- 
 ple were not yet prepared for this change, and 
 that the sight of guards or a throne might shake 
 a power which 500,000 captives in chains could 
 not expose to obloquy. " The members of the 
 committee," said Couthon, " have no desire to 
 be assimilated to despots ; they have no need of 
 guards for their defence ; their own virtue, the 
 love of the people, Providence, watch over their 
 days ; they have no occasion for any other pro- 
 tection. When necessary, they will know how 
 to die at their post in defence of freedom. "j 
 
 The bloody intentions announced by Robes- 
 June 9 1794 P^^rrs were too effectually carried 
 Additional i^to efi^ect ou the day following the 
 powers con- fete of the Supreme Being, by the de- 
 ftrred on the cree of the 22d Prairial,' passed on 
 ai7^Tr"ib'unaI. *^^ motion of Couthon. By this 
 sanguinary law, every form, privi- 
 lege, or usage calculated to protect the accused 
 ■were swept away. " Ever}' postponement of jus- 
 tice," says Couthon, " is a crime ; every formal- 
 ity indulgent to the accused is a crime ; the de- 
 lay in punishing the enemies of the country 
 
 ' Mig., 322. Lac., ii., 162, 163. Th., vi.,«321, 323, 32fi. 
 t Th., vi., 340,-342. Mig., ii., 322. t Th., vi., 329. 
 
 should not be greater than the time requisite for 
 identifying them." The right of insisting for an 
 individual investigation, and of being delended 
 by counsel, were withdrawn. In addition to 
 those struck at by Ibriner laws, there were in- 
 cluded in this new decree "all those who have 
 seconded the projects of the enemies of France, 
 either by I'avouring the retreat of, or shielding 
 liom punishment the aristocracy or conspirators • 
 or by persecuting and calumniating the patriots, 
 or by corrupting the mandatories of the people, 
 or by abusing the principles of the Revolution, 
 of the laws, or of the government by false or 
 perfidious applications, or by deceiving the rep- 
 resentatives of the people, or by .spreading dis- 
 couragement or false intelligence, or by mislead- 
 ing the public by false instruction or depraved ex- 
 ample." The proof requisite to convict of these 
 multifarious offences was declared to be, " Every 
 piece of evidence, material, moral, verbal, or 
 written, which is sutficient io convince a reason- 
 able understanding." The Revolutionary Tri- 
 bunal was divided into four separate courts, each 
 possessing the same powers as the original, and 
 a public accuser, and sufficient numljer of judges 
 and jurymen awarded to each, to enable them to 
 proceed with rapidity in the work ol' extermina- 
 tion.* 
 
 Accustomed as the convention was to blind 
 obedience, they were startled with this Debate on it 
 project. " If this law passes, nothing m the assem- 
 remains," says Ruamps, " but to blow Wy ; 
 out our brains." Alanned at the agitation which 
 prevailed, Robespierre mounted the tribune: 
 " For long," said he, " the assembly has argued 
 and decided on the same day, because for long it 
 has been liberated from the empire of faction. I 
 demand that, instead of pausing on the proposal 
 for adjournment, we sit till eight at night, if ne- 
 cessary, to discuss the project of the law which 
 has now been submitted to it." The assembly 
 felt its weakness, and in thirty minutes the de- 
 cree was unanimcnisly adopted. t 
 
 On the following day, some members, chiefly 
 adherents of the old party of Danton, endeavour- 
 ed to overthrow this sanguinary decree of the as- 
 sembly. Bourdon de I'Oise proposed that the 
 safety of the members of the assembly should be 
 provided for by a special enactment. He was 
 ably supported by Merlin, and the legislature 
 seemed inclined to adopt the proposal. Couthon 
 attacked the Mountain, from which the opposi- 
 tion seemed chiefly to emanate. Bourdon repli- 
 ed, " Let the members of the committee know," 
 said he, " that if they are patriots, .so are we. I 
 esteem Couthon, I esteem the committee ; but, 
 more than all, 1 esteem the unconquerable 
 Mountain, which has saved the public freedom." 
 " The convention, the committee," said Robes- 
 pierre, "the Mountain, are the same thing. Ev- 
 er}' representative who loves liberty, every repre- 
 sentative who is resolved to die for his country, 
 is part of the Mountain. Wo to those who 
 would assassinate the people, by permitting some 
 miserable intriguers to divide the patriots, in or- 
 der to elevate themselves on the public ruin 1" 
 The imperious tone of Robespierre, But it is ner- 
 the menaces of his colleagues, again enheless car- 
 overawed the assembly, and the law ^^■ 
 passed without the protecting clause proposed by- 
 Bourdon. Every individual in the convention 
 was now at the mercy of the dictators, and the 
 
 * l.nc, ii., IfO, 161. Th., vi.. 346, 347. Miff., u., 323. 
 t Mig., ii., 324. Th., Ti., 349. 
 
300 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Ceap. XIV. 
 
 daily spectacle of fifty persons executed, was 
 enough to subdue more undaunted spirits.* 
 
 Armed by this accession of power, the pro- 
 Rapid increase scriptions proceeded, during the 
 of the proscnp- next two months, with redoubled 
 tions. violence. Tne power of Robes- 
 
 pierre was prodigious, and wielded with an en- 
 ergy to which there is nothing comparable in 
 the history of modem Europe. The ruling prin- 
 ciple of his government was to destroy the whole 
 aristocracy, both of rank and talent.t It was on 
 this foundation that his authority rested; the 
 mass of the people ardently supported a govern- 
 ment which was rapidly destroying everything 
 which was above them in station or superior in 
 ability. Every man felt his own consequence 
 increased and his own prospects improved by 
 the destruction of his more fortunate rivals. In- 
 exorable towards individuals or leaders, Robes- 
 pierre was careful of protecting the masses of 
 the community; and the lower orders, who al- 
 ways have a secret pleasure in the depression of 
 their superiors, beheld with satisfaction the thun- 
 der which rolled innocuous over their heads, stri- 
 king every one who could by possibility stand 
 „ , in their way. The whole physical 
 •whrch the force of the Republic, which must al- 
 support of ways be drawn from the labouring 
 the people classes, was thus devoted to his will, 
 w^ secu- 'j'jjg armed force of Paris, under the 
 orders of Henriot, and formed of the 
 lowest of the rabble, was at his disposal; the 
 club of the Jacobins, purified and composed ac- 
 cording to his orders, were ready to support 
 all his projects; the Revolutionary Tribunal 
 blindly obeyed his commands ; the new mu- 
 nicipality, with Henriot at its head, was devo- 
 ted to his will. By the activity of the Jacobin 
 clubs, and the universal prevalence of the same 
 interests, the same state of things prevailed in 
 every department of France. Universally the 
 lowest class considered Robespierre as identified 
 with the Revolution, and as centring in his per- 
 son all the projects of aggrandizement which 
 were afloat in their minds. None remained to 
 contest his authority but the remnants of the 
 Constitutional and Girondist parties who still 
 lingered in the assembly.; 
 
 The insolence of power, and the atrocious 
 Cruelties in Cruelty of Revolutionary revenge, 
 the provm- was, if possible, more strongly evin- 
 ces. Le Bon ced in the provinces than in the me- 
 at Arras. tropolis. The disturbances on the 
 northern frontier led to the special mission of a 
 monster named Le Bon to these districts, armed 
 with the power of the Revolutionary govern- 
 ment. His appearance in these departments 
 could be compared to nothing but the apparition 
 of those hideous furies so much the subject of 
 dread in the times of paganism. In the city of 
 Arras, above two thousand persons, brought 
 there from the neighbouring departments, per- 
 ished by the guillotine. Mingling treachery and 
 seduction with sanguinary oppression, he turned 
 the despotic powers with which he was invested 
 into the means of individual gratification. After 
 having disgraced the wife of a nobleman who 
 yieldai to his embraces in order to save her hus- 
 band's life, he put the man to death before the 
 eyes of his devoted consort: a species of treach- 
 ery so common, says Prudhomme, that the ex- 
 amples of it were innumerable. Children whom 
 
 he had corrupted were employed by him as spies 
 upon their parents; and so inlectious did the 
 cruel example become, that the favourite amuse- 
 ment of this little band was putting to death 
 birds and small animals with little guillotines 
 made for their use.*t 
 
 The career of Carrier at Nantes, where the 
 popular vengeance was to be inflicted 
 on the Royalists of the western provin- Mantes '^^ 
 ces, was still more relentless. Five 
 hundred children of both sexes, the eldest of 
 whom was not fourteen years old, were led out 
 to the same spot to be shot. Never was so de- 
 plorable a spectacle witnessed. The littleness 
 of their stature caused most of the bullets, at the 
 first discharge, to fly over their heads: they 
 broke their bonds, rushed into the ranks of the 
 executioners, clung round their knees, and with 
 supplicating hands and agonized looks, sought 
 for mercy. Nothing could soften these assas- 
 sins: they put them to death even when lying 
 at their feet. A large party of women, most of 
 whom were with child, and many with babes at 
 their breast, were put on board the boats in the 
 Loire. The innocent caresses, the unconscious 
 smiles of these little innocents, filled their moth- 
 ers' breasts with inexpressible anguish: they 
 fondly pressed them to their bosoms, weeping 
 over them for the last time. One of them was 
 delivered of an infant on the quay : hardly were 
 the agonies of childbirth over, when she was 
 pushed, with the newborn innocent, into the 
 galley. After being stripped naked, their hands 
 were tied behind their backs ; their shrieks and 
 lamentations were answered by strokes of the 
 sabre ; and, while struggling between terror and 
 shame to conceal their nudity from the gaze of, 
 the executioners, the signal was given, the planks 
 cut, and the shrieking victims forever buried ia 
 the waves. t 
 
 Human cnielty, it would be supposed, could 
 hardly go beyond these executions, but it was 
 exceeded by Le Bon at Bourdeaux. A woman 
 was accused of having wept at the execution of 
 her husband: she was condemned, amid the ap- 
 plauses of the multitude, to sit several hours un- 
 der the suspended blade, M'hich shed upon her, 
 drop by drop, the blood of the deceased, whose 
 corpse was above her on the scaflbld, before she 
 was released by death from her agony. § 
 
 One of the most extraordinary features of these 
 terrible times was the apathy which General apa- 
 the better classes both in Paris and thy of the class 
 the provinces evinced, and the uni- of proprietors, 
 versal disposition to hnry anxiety in the delirium 
 of present enjoyment. The people who had es- 
 caped death went to the operas daily, with equal 
 unconcern whether thirty or a hundred heads 
 had fallen during the day. The class of propri- 
 etors at Bourdeaux, Marseilles, and all the prin- 
 cipal towns, timid and vacillating, could not be 
 prevailed on to quit their hearths, while the Jac- 
 obins, ardent, reckless, and indefatigable, plim- 
 ged a merciless sword into the bosom of the 
 
 * Mis:., ii., 325. Lac., ii., 170. Th., vi., 350-353. Hjst. 
 de la Cunv , iii., 367. 
 t Brissofs Memoires, U., 22. t Mig., ii., 326, 327. 
 
 * Th., vi., 376, 377. Prudhomme, Victims de la Revolu- 
 tion, li., 274. Chateaub., Etud. Hist., i., 102. Preface. 
 
 t It is a curious fact, highly illustrative of the progress 
 of revolutions, that this monster in the human form was at 
 first humane and inoffensive in his government, and it was 
 not till he had received reiterated orders from Robespierre, 
 with a hint of a dungeon in case of refusal, that his atroci- 
 ties commenced. Let no man, if he is not conscious of the" 
 utmost firmness of mind, be sure that he would not, m 
 similar circumstances, have done the same. — DuCHESS 
 D'Abrantes, vii., 213, 214. 
 
 t Prudhomine, ii., 27. Chateaub., Etud. Hist., i., 102. 
 
 ♦ Louvet, 123. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 301 
 
 country\ The soldiers everywhere supported 
 their tyranny; the prospect of ransacking cel- 
 lars, ravishing women, and plundering coffers, 
 made them universally I'aithlul to the govern- 
 ment. " When in a country which we all con- 
 ceived to be on the point of regeneration," says 
 Louvet, "the men of property were everywhere 
 so timid, and the wicked so audacious, it became 
 evident that all assemblages of men, once digni- 
 lied with the name of the people by such fools as 
 myself, are, in truth, nothing more than an im- 
 becile herd, too happy to be permitted to crouch 
 under the yoke of a despotic master.* 
 
 Malesherbes, the generous and intrepid de- 
 _ fender of Louis XVI., was too im- 
 
 Execution of j^d^culatc a character to escape de- 
 struction. For some time he had 
 lived in the country, in the closest retirement ; a 
 young man accused of emigration, concealed in 
 his house, furnished a pretext for the apprehen- 
 sion of the venerable old man and all his family. 
 When he arrived at the prison, all the captives 
 rose up and crowded round him ; they brought 
 him a seat : " I thank you," said he, " for the at- 
 tention you pay to my age, but I perceive one 
 among you feebler than myself : give it to him." 
 He was brought before the Revolutionaiy Tribu- 
 nal along with his whole family ; even the judges 
 of that sangtiinarj^ court turned aside their heads 
 to avert the heart-rending spectacle. They were 
 all condemned together. Hisdaugh- 
 And his fam- j^^,^ Madame de Rozambo, when pre- 
 paring to mount the fatal chariot, per- 
 ceived Mademoiselle Sombreuil, whose heroic 
 devotion had saved her father on the second of 
 September, but who had again followed him to 
 prison. Throwing herself into her arms, she ex- 
 claimed, " You have had the good fortune to 
 save your father, and I have the glory of dying 
 with mine."f 
 
 Madame Elizabeth, sister to Louis XVI., was 
 the next victim. When she was 
 Sr wT*' brought before the Revolutionary Tri- 
 bunal, the judges and the jury mani- 
 fested an unusual degree of impatience for her 
 condemnation. Like the king and queen, she 
 manifested the utmost composure and serenity 
 when under examination ; her answers, clear, 
 distinct, and perfectly true, left no room for suspi- 
 cion or misconstruction. Being accused of hav- 
 ing succoured some men who had been wounded 
 in the Champs Elysees, on the occasion of the 
 revolt, she replied, " Humanity alone led me to 
 dress their wounds ; I needed no inquiry into the 
 origin of their sufferings to feel the obligation to 
 relieve them. I neverlhought this a merit, but I 
 cannot see how it can be considered as a crime." 
 " Admit, at least," said the president, " that you 
 have nourished in the young Capet the hope of 
 regaining the throne of his father." " I devoted 
 myself," said she, "to the care of that infant, who 
 was the more dear to me, as he had lost those to 
 whom he owed his being." Being accused of be- 
 ing an accomplice of the tyrant, " If my brother 
 had been a tyrant," she replied, " neither you nor 
 I would have been where we now are." She 
 was condemned along with many others of illus- 
 trious rank and dignified virtue. On the chariot 
 she declared that one of her companions had dis- 
 closed to her that she was pregnant, and thus 
 was the means of saving her life. She died with 
 the serenity of an angel, praying for those who 
 
 * Louvet, 124, 125. Mercier's Tab. de Paris, 
 t Lac., ii., 147, 157. 
 
 had taken her life. The beauty of her form, and 
 the placidity of her expression, awakened senti- 
 ments of commiseration even among the most 
 savage of the Revolutionary spectators.* 
 
 Custine, son of the celebrated general of the 
 same name, was executed for having q^ custine's 
 let fall some expressions of attach- son.Luckner, 
 ment to his father; Alexander Beau- Biron, and 
 harnois for having failed to raise the I^'etnch. 
 siege of Mayence. The letters of both to their 
 wives, the night before their execution, exhibited 
 the most touching strains of eloquence. Marshal 
 Luckner, whom the Jacobins had so long repre- 
 sented as the destined saviour of France ; Gen- 
 eral Biron, whose amiable qualities, notwith- 
 standing the profligacy of his character, had long 
 endeared him to society ; General Lamartiliere, 
 whose successful war of posts had so long cover- 
 ed the northern frontier, and many other distin- 
 guished warriors, were sent to the scaflbld. All 
 showed the same heroism in their last moments, 
 but not greater than was displayed by pacific citi- 
 zens and young women who had been totally un- 
 accustomed to face danger. Dietrich, mayor of 
 Strasburgh, one of the most ardent friends of lib- 
 erty, wrote to his ^on the night before his execu- 
 tion, "as he valued his last blessing, never to 
 attempt to revenge his death." One prisoner 
 alone excited tlie indignation of the spectators, 
 by raising piteous cries on the chariot, and stri- 
 ving in a phrensy of terror, with the executioners 
 on Ihe scaffold; it was Madame dti Barri, the 
 associate of the infamous pleasures of Louis 
 XV.t 
 
 The Committee of Public Safety incessantly 
 urged Fouquier Tinville, the public accuser, to 
 accelerate the executions. He himself declared, 
 in his subsequent trial, " That on one occasion 
 thev ordered him to increase them to one hundred 
 and fifty a day, and that the proposal filled his 
 mind with such horror, that as he returned from 
 the Seine, the river appeared to run red with 
 blood." The pretended conspiracy in the prisons 
 served as an excuse for a frightful multiplication 
 in the number of victims. One hundred and 
 sixtv victims were denounced in the prison of 
 the Luxembourg alone ; and from one to two 
 hundred in all the other prisons of Paris. A 
 fabricated attempt at escape in the prison of La 
 Force, was made the ground for sending several 
 hundreds to the Revolutionary Tribunal. Fou- 
 quier Tinville had made such an enlargement 
 of the hall of that dreaded court, that room was 
 afforded for one hundred and sixty to he tried at 
 once ; and he proposed to place at the bar the 
 whole prisoners charged with the conspiracy ia 
 the Luxembourg at one sitting. He even went 
 so far as to erect a guillotine in the court-room, 
 in order to execute the prisoners the moment the 
 sentence was pronounced ; but Collot d'Herbois 
 objected to this, as tending " to demoralize pun- 
 ishment."j§ 
 
 * Tout., iv., 344. Lac, xi., 423, 424. t Lac, ii., 160. 
 
 t Th., vi., 363, 364. Lac, ii., 161. Hist.de la ConT.,iu., 
 386,388. ^ ■■,,„■ 
 
 (> The condition of the prisoners in these jails ot i'aris, 
 where above ten thousand persons were at last confined, was 
 dreadful beyond what imagination could conceive. The fol- 
 lowing description is from an eyewitness of their horrors: 
 the fastidiousness of modem manners may revolt at some of 
 Its details, but the truth of history requires that they should 
 be recorded. "From the outer room, where examinations 
 are conducted, you enter by two enormous doors into the 
 dunseons : infected and damp abodes, where enormous rats 
 carry on a continual war against the unhappy wretches who 
 are there accumulated together, gnawing their ears, noses, 
 and clothing, and depnraig them of a moment's respite evea 
 
302 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIY. 
 
 The trial of these unhappy captives was as 
 brief as during the massacres in the prisons. 
 " Did you know of the conspiracy of the prisons, 
 DorivaH" "JN'o." "I expected no otlier an- 
 swer, but it will not avail you." To another: 
 " Are not you an ex-noble 1" " Yes." To a 
 third: "Are you not a priest^" "Yes, but I 
 have taken the oath." " You. have no right to 
 speak; be silent." "Were not you architect to 
 Madame 1" " Yes, but I was disgraced in 1788." 
 " Had you not a father-in-law in the Luxem- 
 bourg T' "Yes." Such were the questions which 
 constituted the sole trial of the numerous ac- 
 cused; no witnesses were called; their condem- 
 nations were pronounced almost as rapidly as 
 their names were called; the law of the 22d 
 Prairialhad dispensed with tlie necessity of taking 
 any evidence, when the court were convinced by 
 moral presumptions. The indictments were 
 thrown olf by hundreds at once, and the name 
 of the individual merely filled in ; the judgments 
 were printed with equal rapidit}', in a room ad- 
 joining the court, and several thousand copies 
 circulated through Paris by little urchins, ex- 
 claiming, amid weeping and distracted crowds, 
 " Here are the names of those who have gained 
 prizes in the lottery of the holy guillotine." The 
 accused were executed at leaving the court, or, 
 at latest, on the following morning.* 
 
 Since the law of the 22d Prairial had been 
 passed, the heads fell at the rate of fifty or sixty 
 a day. " This is well," said Fouquier Tinville ; 
 " but we must get on more rapidly in the next 
 decade ; four hundred and fifty is the very least 
 that must then be served up." To facilitate this 
 immense increase, spies were sent into the pris- 
 ons in order to extract from the unhappy wretches 
 their secrets, and designate to the public accuser 
 those who might first be selected. These in- 
 famous wretches soon became the terror of the 
 captives. They were enclosed as suspected per- 
 sons, but their real mission was soon apparent 
 from their insolence, their consequential airs, the 
 preference shown them by the jailers, their orgies 
 
 by sleep. Hardly ever does daylight penetrate into the 
 gloomy at)odes ; the straw which composes the litter of the 
 prisonei-s soon becomes rotten from want of air, and from the 
 ordure and excrement with which it is covered ; and such is 
 the stench thence arising, that a stranger, on entering the 
 door, feels as if he was suffocated. The pnsoners are all 
 either in what are called the straw chamljers, or in the dun- 
 geons. Thus poverty is there regarded as a fresh crime, and 
 leads to the most dreadful punishment; for a lengthened 
 atwde in these hornd receptacles is worse than death itself. 
 The dungeons are never opened but for inspection, to give 
 food to the prisoners or empty the vases. The superior 
 class of chambers, called the straw apartments, do not differ 
 from the dungeons, except in this, that their inhabitants are 
 permitted to go out at eight in the morning, and to remain 
 out till an hour before sunset. During the intervening pe- 
 riod they are allowed to walk in the court, or huddle to- 
 gether in the galleries which surround it, where they are 
 suffocated by infected odours. There is the same accumu- 
 lation of horror in their sleeping chambers : no air, rotten 
 straw, and perhaps fifty prisoners thrust into one hole, with 
 their head lying on their own ordure, surrounded by every 
 species of filth and contagion. Nor were these disgusting 
 circumstances the only degradation which awaited the un- 
 happy pnsoners. No one could conceive the degradation to 
 which the human species can be reduced, who had not wit- 
 nessed the calling of the roll in the evening: when three or 
 four turnkeys, each with half a dozen fierce dogs held in a 
 leash, call the unhappy prisoners to answer to their names, 
 threatening, swearing, and insulting, while they are suppli- 
 cating, weeping, imploring : often they ordered them to go 
 out and come in three or four times over, tiU they were satis- 
 fied that the trembling troop was complete. The cells for 
 the women were as horrid as those for the men, equally 
 dark, humid, filthy, crowded, and suffocating: and it was 
 there that all the rank and beauty of Pans was assembled. 
 — Hist, de la Convention, lii., 383, 386. 
 * Process de Fouquier Tinville. Th., Ti., 366, 367. 
 
 j at the doors of the cells with the agents of the 
 police. They were caressed, implured by the 
 treiubling prisoners, and received whatever lit- 
 tle sums tiiey had been able to secrete about 
 their persons, to keep their names out of the 
 black list ; but in vain. The names of such as 
 they chose to denounce were made up in a list 
 called, in the prisons, " The Evening Journal," 
 and the public chariots sent at nightfall to con- 
 vey them to the Conciergerie preparatory to their 
 trial on the following morning.* 
 
 When the unfortunate captives heard the roll- 
 ing of the wheels of the cars which were sent to 
 convey them, the most agonizing suspense pre- 
 vailed in the prisons. They flocked to the wick- 
 ets of their corridors, placed their ears on the bars 
 to hear the list, and trembled lest their name 
 should be called out by the officers. Those who 
 were named embraced their companions in mis- 
 fortune, and received their last adieus ; often the 
 most heart-rending separations were witnessed: 
 a father tore himself from the arms of liis children, 
 a husband from his shrieking wife. Those who 
 survived had reason to envy the lot of those con- 
 ducted to the den of Fouquier Tinville; restored 
 to their cells, they remamed in a state of sus- 
 pense, worse than death itself, till the same hour 
 on the following night, when the rolling of the 
 chariot- wheels renewed the universal agon)' of 
 the captives.t 
 
 To such a degree did the torture of suspense 
 prey upon the minds of the prisoners, 
 that they became not only reckless ^y°oLn 
 of life, but anxious for death. The 
 inhabitants who had reason to apprehend deten- 
 tion, became indifferent to all the precautions 
 requisite to secure their safety ; many who had 
 escaped voluntarily surrendered themselves to 
 their persecutors, or waited on the high road the 
 first band of the National Guard to apprehend 
 them. The young Princess of Monaco, in the 
 flower of youth and beauty, after re- Death of the 
 ceiving her sentence, declared herself Pnncess of 
 pregnant, and obtained a respite ; the Monaco, 
 horrors of stirviving those she loved, however, 
 so preyed upon her mind, that the next day she 
 retracted her declaration, and died with sublime 
 devotion. Madame Lavergne had hoped that, 
 by her intercession, she would move the hearts 
 of the judges in favour of her husband, the com- 
 mandant of Longwy. When she saw that all 
 was unavailing, and that sentence of death was 
 pronounced, a cry of Vive le Roi was heard : all 
 the spectators trembled at the fatal words : Vive 
 k Hoi! exclaimed his wife, in more energetic 
 terms ; and when those next her exclaimed that 
 she had lost her reason, she repeated the same 
 words in a calmer voice, so as to leave no room 
 for doubt as to her deliberate intention. She ob- 
 tained the recompense she desired in dying be- 
 side her husband. Soon after, a sister followed 
 the same method to avoid surviving her brother, 
 and a young woman, to accompany the object 
 of her afiection to another world. Servants fre- 
 quently insisted upon following their masters to 
 prison, and perished with them on the scaflbld. 
 Many daughters went on their knees to the mem- 
 bers of the Revolutionar)' Committee to be al- 
 lowed to join their parents in captivity, and, 
 when brought to trial, pleaded guilty, though in- 
 nocent, to the same charges. The efforts of the 
 court and jury were unable to make them sep- 
 arate their cases ; the tears of their parents even 
 
 * Th., vi., 368, 369. Hist, da U Conv., iii., 386, 388. 
 t Th., vi., 36%369, 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 303 
 
 ■were unavailing; in the generou.s contention, 
 filial afi'ection prevailed over T)arental love. A 
 father and son were confined together in the 
 Maison Lazare ; the latter was involved in one 
 of the fabricated conspiracies of the prison : when 
 his name was called out to stand his trial, his 
 lather came forward, and, by personating his 
 son, was the means of saving his life by dying 
 in his stead. " Do you know," said the president 
 of the Revolutionary Tribunal to Isabeau, " in 
 Avhose presence you are standing V " Yes," re- 
 plied the undaunted young man ; " it is here that 
 formerly virtue judged crime, and that now 
 crime murders innocence."* 
 
 The vengeance of the tyrants fell with peculiar 
 Lavoisier, Severity upon all whose talents or de- 
 Roucher, scent distinguished them from the rest 
 and others, of mankind. The son of Buflbn, the 
 daughter of Vernet, perished without regard to 
 the illustrious names they bore ; Florian, the elo- 
 quent novelist, was so horror-struck with the 
 scenes he had witnessed in prison, that he died 
 after the hour of deliverance had arrived. La- 
 voisier was cut off in the midst of his profound 
 chemical researches; he pleaded in vain for a 
 respite to complete a scientific discovery ; almost 
 all the members of the French Academy were in 
 prison, in hourly expectation of their fate. Rouch- 
 er, an amiable poet, a few hours before his death, 
 .sent his miniature to his children, accompanied 
 by these touching lines : 
 
 " Ne vous t'tonnez pas objets charmans et doui 
 Si quelque air de tnstesse obscurcit mon visage ; 
 Lorsqu'un crayon savant dessinait mon image, 
 J'attendais I'Kchafaud et je songeais d vous." 
 
 Chenier, a young man, whose eloquent wri- 
 tings pointed him out as the future historian of 
 the Revolution, and Champfort, one of its ear- 
 liest and ablest supporters, Avere executed at the 
 same time. A few weeks longer would have 
 swept off the whole literary talent, as well as 
 dignified names of France. t 
 
 But there is a limit to human suffering; an 
 
 „ hour when indignant nature will no 
 
 Horror at , u -^ j 
 
 length excited logger submit, and courage anses 
 by the number out of despair. To that avenging 
 and descent hour time was fast approaching, 
 tu.ns'"'"''''" ^^'^ lengthened files of prisoners 
 daily led to the scaffold had long ex- 
 cited the commiseration of the better classes in 
 Paris; the shops in the Rue St. Honor^ were 
 shut, and its pavement deserted, when the mel- 
 ancholy procession, moving towards the Place 
 de la Revolution, passed along. Alanned at 
 these signs of dissatisfaction, the committee 
 changed the place of execution, and fixed it at 
 the Barrier de Trone, in the Fauxbourg St. An- 
 toine ; but even the workmen of that Revolution- 
 ary district manifested impatience at the con- 
 stant repetition of the dismal spectacle. The 
 middling classes, who constitute the strength of 
 the National Guard at Paris, began to be alarm- 
 ed at the rapid progress and evident dcsccjit of the 
 proscriptions. At'first the nobles and ecclesias- 
 tics only were included; by degrees, the whole 
 landed proprietors were reached; but now the 
 work of destruction seemed to be fast approach- 
 ing every class above the lowest. On the lists 
 of the Revolutionary Tribunal, in the latter davs 
 of the Reign of Terror, are to be found tailors, 
 shoemakers, hairdressers, butchers, farmers, me- 
 chanics, and workmen, accused of anti-revolu- 
 tionary principles. From the 10th of June to 
 
 ■» Lac, ii., 164, 166. 
 
 t Lac., xi., 48, 49, and Pr. Hist., ii,, 166, 167. Th., ri., 428. 
 
 the 17th of July, that court had sentenced twelv2 
 hundred and eighty-five persons to death. The 
 people felt pity lor these proscriptions, not only 
 from their frequency, but their near approach to 
 themselves. Their reason was at length awa- 
 kened by the Revolutionary fever having exhaust- 
 ed itself; humanity began to be felt at the cease- 
 less eflusion of human blood, after all their ene- 
 mies had been destroyed. The convention ea- 
 gerly embraced the same sentiments ; their con- 
 spicuous situation rendered it probable that they 
 would be among the first victims, and every 
 one, in the hope of saving his own life, ardently 
 prayed for the downfall of the tyrants. But these 
 expressions of public feeling only inspired their 
 oppressors with greater impatience for humau 
 blood. " Let us put," said Vadier, " a wail of 
 heads between the people and ourselves." " The 
 Revolutionary Tribunal," said Billaud Varen- 
 nes, " thinks it has made a great effort when it 
 strikes off' seventy heads a day ; but the people 
 are easily habituated to what they always be- 
 hold ; to inspire terror, we must double the num- 
 ber." " How timid you are in the capital," said 
 Collot d'Herbois; "can your ears not stand the 
 sound of artillery % It is a proof of weakness to 
 murder your enemies; you should mow them 
 down with cannon." The judges of the Revo- 
 lutionary Tribunal, many of whom came from 
 the galleys of Toulon, laboured incessantly at 
 the work of extermination, and mingled indecent 
 ribaldry and jests with their unrelenting cruelty 
 to the crowds of captives who were brought be- 
 fore them. An old man, who had lost the use of 
 speech by a paralytic afiection, being placed at 
 the bar, the president exclaimed, "No matter; 
 it is not his tongue, but his head, that we want."* 
 The superstition or terrors of Robespierre fur- 
 nished the first pretext for a combina- ^ , 
 tion to shake his power. The mem- jirst^akTn of 
 bers of the different committees, the supersti- 
 alarmed for their own safety, were tionofRooes- 
 secretly endeavouring to undermine P"^"^- 
 his influence, when the fanaticism of an old wo- 
 man, named Catharine Thcot, gave them the 
 means of extending their apprehensions to a lar- 
 ger circle. She proclaimed herself the mother 
 of God, and announced the approaching arrival 
 of a regenerating Messiah. An ancient ally of 
 Robespierre, Dom Gerle, was the associate of 
 her phrensy : they held nocturnal orgies, in which 
 Robespierre was invoked as the supreme pontiff. 
 The Committee of Public Safety, who were ac- 
 quainted with all their proceedings, beheld, or 
 feigned to behold, in these extravagances, a de- 
 sign to make him the head of a new religion, 
 which might add to the force of political power 
 the weight of spiritual fen'our. Vadier was in- 
 trusted by the committee with the duty of investi- 
 gating the mysteries: his report turned the fa- 
 natics into derision, but at the same time repre- 
 sented them as worthy of death, and they were 
 accordingly throwTi into prison. Robespierre 
 strove to save them, but his colleagues withstood 
 his influence; irritated, he retired from their 
 meetings, and confined himself to the club of the 
 Jacobins, where his power was still predominant.t 
 Naturally suspicious, the apprehensions of the 
 tjTant now increased to the highest suspicions of 
 degree. His house was guarded by Robespierre 
 a body of Jacobins, armed with pis- awakened, 
 tols, c'hiefly composed of jurymen from the Rer- 
 
 * Lac, xi., 53, 56. Th., vi , S70. Mig., ii., 327. 
 t Mis?., ii., 328. Lac, xj., 59, 61. Th., vi., 336,337, 
 356, 357. % 
 
304 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIV. 
 
 olutionary Tribunal. He never went out but 
 attended by this obnoxious band. His table was 
 covered by letters, in which he was styled " the 
 Envoy of God," the " New Messiah," the " New 
 Orpheus." On every side his portrait was to be 
 seen in marble, bronze, or canvass, and below 
 each, lines in which the Jacobinical poets ex- 
 tolled him above Cato and Aristides. But all 
 his efforts, and all the adulation of his satellites, 
 could not dispel the terrors which had seized his 
 jnind. On his desk, after his death, was foimd 
 a letter in the following terms : " You yet live ! 
 assassin of your country, stained with the purest 
 blood in France. I wait only the time when the 
 people shall strike the hour of your fall. Should 
 my hope prove vain, this hand, which now writes 
 thy sentence — this hand, which presses thine with 
 horror, shall pierce thee to the heart. Every day 
 I am with thee ; every hour my uplifted arm is 
 ready to cut short thy life. Worst of men, live 
 yet a few days to be tortured by the fear of my 
 vengeance: this very night, in seeing thee, I 
 shall enjoy thy terrors; but thy eyes shall seek 
 in vain my avenging form."* 
 
 His violent partisans strongly urged the im- 
 nenriotand mediate adoption of the most vigor- 
 St. Just urge otis measures. Henriot and the 
 vigorous mayor of Paris were ready to corn- 
 measures, mence a new massacre, and had a 
 body of three thousand young assassins ready 
 to aid those of September 2J ; St. Just and Cou- 
 ihon were gained in the Committee of Public 
 Safety, the president Dumas, and the vice- 
 president Coffinhal, were to be depended on in 
 the Fievolutionary Tribunal. " Strike soon and 
 strongly," said St. Just. " Dare ! that is the 
 sole secret of revolutions."t They had already 
 marked out Tallien, Bourdon de I'Oise, Thuriot, 
 Rover^, Lecombre, Panis, Monestier, Legendre, 
 Freron, Barras, and Cambon, as the first vic- 
 tims. But the conspirators had no armed force 
 at their command; the club of the Jacobins, 
 which they wielded at pleasure, was only pow- 
 erful from its weight on public opinion ; the com- 
 mittees of government were all arrayed on the 
 other side. Robespierre, therefore, was compel- 
 led to conunence the attack in the convention ; 
 he expected to sway them by the terror of his 
 voice; or if, contrary to all former precedent, 
 they held out, his reliance was on the municipal- 
 ity, and an insurrection of the people, similar to 
 tHat which had been so successful on the 31st of 
 May. By their aid he hoped to effect the pro- 
 scription of the Committee of Public Safety, and 
 their associates in the Mountain, as he had for- 
 merly done that of the Girondists and of the 
 Committee of Twelve. i 
 
 * Mijj., ii., 328 ; xi., 63, 66. 
 
 t The secret designs of Robespierre are clearly revealed 
 in the followingletter, written to him at this period by Payan, 
 his creature in the municipality of Paris. " The change 
 of all others most essentia], is to augment the powers of tlie 
 central government : all our authority is useless ; it is by 
 angmentmg the central power that alone any good can be 
 done. Would you strike to the earth the refractory dep- 
 uties, obtain great victories in the interior — bring: forward a 
 report which may strike at once against all the disaffected ; 
 pass salutary decrees to restrain the journals ; render all 
 the public functionaries responsible to you alone : let them 
 be incessantly occupied in centralizing public opinion ; 
 hitherto your efforts have been confined to the centralizing 
 of the physical government. I repeat it : you require a vast 
 report, which may embrace at once all the conspirators, 
 blend them altogether— the Dantonists, the Royalists, the 
 Orleanists, the Hebertists, the Lafayettists, the Bourdon de 
 I'Oisists. Commence the great work." — Hist, de la Conv., 
 iv., 62,63. 
 
 tMig., 1(^329,331. Lac, i.1., 67,69. Th., vi., 355, 409. 
 
 In a meeting of the Jacobins, held on the 3(1 
 Thermidor (21st of July), he pre- juiysi 1794 
 pared the minds of the audience for insurrection 
 a revolt against the convention, agreed on at 
 "The assembly," said he, "labour- t'^e Jacobms. 
 ing under the gangrene of corruption, and una- 
 ble to throw oft its impurities, is incapable of sa- 
 ving the Republic; both will perish; the pro- 
 scription of the patriots is the order of the day. 
 For myself, I have one foot in the grave ; in a 
 few days I will place the other in it : the result 
 is in the hands of Providence."* The Jacobins 
 were, by these and similar addresses, prepared for 
 a revolutionary movement, but the secret of the 
 insurrection, which was fixed for the 9th Ther- 
 midor, was confided only to Henriot and the may- 
 or of Paris. 
 
 The leaders of the convention, and of the com- 
 mittees on their side, were not idle. Measures of 
 The immediate pressure of danger the convention 
 had united all parties against the ty- to resist it. 
 rant. He made no secret in the popular society 
 of his resolution to decimate the assembly. At 
 leaving one of the meetings where his designs 
 had been openly expressed, Barere exclaimed, 
 "That Robespierre is insatiable; because we 
 wont do everything he wishes, he threatens to 
 break with us. If he speaks to us of Thuriot, 
 Guflroi, Rovere, and all the party of Danton, we 
 understand him ; even should he demand Tal- 
 lien. Bourdon de I'Oise, Legendre, Freron, we 
 may consent in good time ; but to ask Duval, 
 Andoin, Leonard, Bourdon, Vadier, Vouland, is 
 out of the question. To proscribe members of| 
 the Committee of General Safety is to put the 
 poniard to all our throats. Impressed with these 
 feelings, they resolved to stand on their guard, 
 though they did not venture to commence an at- 
 tack on Robespierre, whose name was ten-ible, 
 and influence still so much the object of dread. 
 Tallien was the leader of the party, an intrepid 
 man, and an old supporter of the Revolutionary 
 tyrarmy, but who had been awakened, during his 
 sanguinar}' mission to Bourdeaux, to better feel- 
 ings b)^ the influence of a young woman — after- 
 ward well knowTi as Madame Tallien — of ex- 
 traordinary beauty, and more than masculine 
 firmness of character.t 
 
 At length, on the 8th Thermidor (26th of Ju- 
 ly), the contest began in the Nation- contest begins 
 al Convention. The discourse of in assembly. 
 Robespierre was dark and enigmat- Robespierre's 
 ical : "I come," said he, "to defend *P^^'=''- . 
 your outraged authority and violated independ- 
 ence ; I also will defend myself; you will not be 
 taken by surprise, for you have nothing in com- 
 mon with the t)'rants whom you combat. To 
 what faction do I belong 1 To yourselves. 
 What is the party which, ever since the com- 
 mencement of the Revolution, has crushed fac- 
 tion and swept off the traitors 1 It is yourselves — 
 the people — the force of principles. That is my 
 party. For six weeks I hav^e been reduced to a 
 state of impotence in the Committee of Public 
 Safety ; during that time, has faction been better 
 restrained, or the country more happy T Repre- 
 sentatives of the people, the time has arrived 
 when you should resume the attitude which be- 
 fits you : you are not placed here to be governed, 
 but to govern the depositaries of your confidence. 
 Let it be .spoken out at once: a conspiracy exists 
 against the public freedom; it springs from a 
 
 * Mig., ii., 330. Lac, xi., 68. Th.. vi.,411. 
 t Mig., ii., 329. Lac, xi., 69, 70. Th., v., 410. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 305 
 
 criminal intrigue in the bosom of the convention; 
 that intrigue is conducted by the members of the 
 Committee of General Saiety; the enemies of 
 the Republic have contrived to array that com- 
 mittee against the Committee of Public Safety; 
 even sonie members of this latter committee have 
 been infected ; and the coalition thus formed seeks 
 to ruin the country. What is the remedy for the 
 evil 1 To punish the traitors ; to purge the com- 
 mittees of their unworthy members ; to place the 
 Committee of General Safely under the control 
 ■of that of Public Safety; to establish the unit}' 
 of government under the au.spices of the conven- 
 tion ; and thus to cru.sh faction under the weight 
 •of the national representation, and raise on its 
 ruins the power of justice and freedom."* 
 
 This speech was received with breathless at- 
 tention: irot a sound was heard during its deliv- 
 ery ; not a whisper of applause followed its close. 
 At the proposal that it should be printed, the first 
 symptoms of resistance began : Bourdon de 
 rOise opposed its publication ; but Barere hav- 
 ing supported it, the assembly, fearful of com- 
 mitting itself oj)enly with its enemies, agreed to 
 the proposal. The members cf the Committee 
 of General Safety, seeing the majority wavering, 
 deemed it now necessary to take decisiv'e steps. 
 "It is no longer time," said Cambon, 
 reply °'^'^ "for dissemblmg ; one man paralyzes 
 the assembly, and that man is Robes- 
 pierre." " We must pull the mask olf any coun- 
 tenance on which it is placed," said Billaud Va- 
 rennes; '-J would rather that my carcass served 
 ■for a throne to the tyrant, than render myself, 
 by my silence, the accomplice of his crimes." 
 " It is not enough," said Vadier, " for him to be 
 a tyrant : he aims farther, like a second Moham- 
 med, at being proclaimed the envoy of God." 
 Freron proposed to throw ofi'the hated yoke of 
 the committees. " The moment is at last arri- 
 ved," said he, " to revive the liberty of opinion : 
 I propose that the assembly reverse the decree 
 which permitted the arrest of the representatives 
 of the people : who can debate with freedom 
 when imprisonment is hanging over his head '?" 
 Some applause followed this proposal; but 
 Robespierre was felt to be too powerful to be 
 overthrown by the convention, unaided by the 
 committees; this extreme measure, therefore, 
 •was rejected, and the assembly contented itself 
 with reversing the decree which ordered the pub- 
 lication of his address, and sent it to the commit- 
 tees for examination. Pi,obespierre retired, sur- 
 prised at the resistance he had experienced, but 
 still confident of success on the following day, 
 from, the insurrection of the Jacobins and of the 
 municipality. t 
 
 In the evening he repaired to the popular so- 
 Extraordinary ciety, where he was received with 
 iiieetino:atthe enthusiasm. Henriot, Dumas, Cof- 
 Jacobms. finha], and his other satellites sur- 
 rounded him, and declared themselves ready for 
 action. "I know," says Henriot, "the road to 
 the^ convention, and I am ready to take it again." 
 " Go," said Robespierre; " separate the wicked 
 from the weak ; deliver the assembly from the 
 ■wretches who enthral it; render it the service 
 which it expects from vou, as you did on the 31st 
 of May and the 2d of June. March ! you may 
 yet save liberty !" After describing the attacks 
 directed against his person, he added, "I am 
 ready, if necessary, to drink the cup of Socra- 
 
 * Mit?., ii., 334. Lac. xi., 77, 78. Th.. vi.. 419, 420. 
 t Miff., li., 331, 335. Lac, xi., 79, 60. Tli., vi., 421,424. 
 
 Vol. I.— Q, q. 
 
 tes." "Robespierre," exclaimed one of the dep- 
 uties, " I am ready to drink it with you; the en- 
 emies of Robespierre are those of the coimtry; 
 let them be named, and they shall cease to ex- 
 ist." During all the night he made arrangements 
 for the disposal of his partisans on the following 
 day. Their points of rendezvous were fixed at 
 the hall of the Jacobins and the Hotel de Ville, 
 where they were to be in readiness to receive his 
 orders from the National Assembly.* 
 
 The two committees, on their side, were not 
 idle. During the whole night they 
 
 sat in deliberation. It was felt by "^^"5"=^ P^^P" 
 ., . \ • .• .-I. arations. 
 
 every one that a combination ol all 
 parties was required to shake the redoubted pow- 
 er of Robespierre. All their elforts, according- 
 ly, were directed to this object. St. Just con- 
 tinued firm to his leader; but, by unremitting ex- 
 ertions, the Jacobins of the Mountain succeeded 
 in forming a coalition with the leaders of the 
 Plain and of the Right. " Do not flatter your- 
 selves," said Tallica to the Girondists, "that he 
 will ever spare you: you have committed an 
 unpardonable oflence in being freemen. Let us 
 buiy our minous divisions in oblivion. You 
 weep for Vergniaud ; we weep for Danton ; let 
 us unite their shades by striking Robespierre." 
 " Do you still live V said lie to the Jacobins ; 
 " has "the tyrant spared you this night 1 yet your 
 names are the foremost on the list of proscrip- 
 tion. In a few days he will have your heads, if 
 you do not take his. For two months you have 
 .shielded us from his strokes ; you may now rely 
 on our support as our gratitude." The friends 
 of Danton were so exasperated at the death of 
 their leader, that they long resisted all advances 
 towards a reconciliation; but at length, moved 
 by the entreaties of the Plain and the Right, 
 they agreed to join the coalition. Before day- 
 break, all the assembly had united for the over- 
 throw of the tnant.t 
 
 At an early hour on the morning of the 9th. 
 Thermidor (July 27th), the benches j^jy 27, 1794. 
 were thronged by its members; those Meeting of the 
 of the Mountain Avere particularly 9th Thermi- 
 reraarkable for the serried ranks and *^°''' 
 determined looks of the coalition. The leaders 
 walked about the passages, confirming each other 
 in their generous resolution. Bourdon de I'Oise 
 pressed Durand Maillane by the hand ; Rover6 
 and Tallien followed his example. The latter 
 evinced that undoubting confidence which is so 
 often the presage and cause of success. " Take 
 your place," said he, looking around him; "I 
 have come to witness the triumph of freedom : 
 this evening Robespierre is no more." At noon 
 St. Just mounted the tribune : Robespierre took 
 his station on the bench directly opposite, to in- 
 timidate his adversaries by his look. His knees 
 trembled, the colour fled irom his lips as he as- 
 cended to his seat: the hostile appearance of the 
 assembly already gave liim an anticipation of 
 his fate.; 
 
 St. jQst commenced a speech from thctribune. 
 " I belon'g," said he, " to no party ; I will combat 
 them all.' The course of events has possibly- 
 determined that this tribune should be the Tar- 
 peian Rock for him who now tells you that the 
 members of the committees have strayed from the 
 path of wisdom." Upon this he was violently in- 
 
 * Mig., ii., 336. Th., ii.. 426, 427. Hist, de la Conv., ir., 
 39. 64. 
 
 t Mi^., ii., 336. Lac, vi.. 88-93. Th., vi., 430, 431. 
 
 t Lac, XI.. 94. Mig., ii.,336, 337. Th., vi., 432. Hist, 
 de la Conv., iv., 123. 
 
306 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIV. 
 
 lernipted by Tallicn, who took the lead in the 
 revolt. " Shall the speaker," said he, " forever 
 arrogate to himself, with the t3'rant of whom he 
 is the satellite, the privilege of denouncing, ac- 
 cusing, and proscribing the members of the as- 
 sembly 1 Shall he forever go on amusing us 
 with imaginary perils, when real and pressing 
 dangers are before our eyes 1 After the enig- 
 matical expressions of the tyrant yesterday from 
 that place, can we doubt what St. Just is about 
 to propose] You are about," said he, "to raise 
 the veil ; I will tear it asunder !" Loud ap- 
 plauses on all sides followed this exclamation. 
 " Yes," exclaimed he, '• I will tear it asunder ; I 
 ■will exhibit the danger in its full extent — the ty- 
 rant in his true colours. It is the whole conven- 
 tion which he now proposes to destroy : he knows 
 well, since his overthrow yesterda}^ that howev- 
 er much he may mutilate that great body, he 
 •will no longer find it the instrument of his ty- 
 rannical designs. He is resolved that no sane- 
 Vehement tuaiy should exist for freedom, no re- 
 eloquence treat for the friends of the Republic, 
 of Taliien. jje has, in consequence, resolved to de- 
 stroy you all : yes, this very day, ay, in a few 
 hours. Two thousand assassins have sworn to 
 execute his designs ; I myself last night heard 
 their oaths, and fitly of my colleagues heard 
 them with me. The massacre was to have com- 
 menced in the night with the Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety and of General Security, all of whom 
 were to have been sacrificed except a few crea- 
 tures of the tyrant; the fidelity of the soldiers, 
 who feared the convention, alone has preserved 
 them from this terrible calamity. Let us in- 
 stantly take measures commensurate to the mag- 
 nitude of the danger; let us declare our sittings 
 permanent till the conspiracy is broken and its 
 chiefs arrested. I have no difficulty in naming 
 them ; I have followed their steps through their 
 bloody conjuration: I name Damas, the atro- 
 cious president of the Revolutionary Tribunal ; 
 I name Henriot, the infamous commander of the 
 National Guard." Here Billaud Varennes in- 
 terrupted the orator, and gave some fuller details 
 on the conspiracy, which had been matured in 
 the society of the Jacobins, and denounced Robes- 
 pierre as its chief. " The assembly will perish," 
 he concluded, " if it shows the least signs of 
 weakness." " We shall never perish," exclaim- 
 ed the members, rising in a transport of enthu- 
 siasm from their seats. Taliien resumed : "Can 
 there be any doubt now about the reality of the 
 conspiracy 1 Have you conquered so many ty- 
 rants only to crouch beneath the yoke of the 
 most atrocious of them all 1 The charge against 
 Robespierre is already written in your hearts. 
 Is there a voice among you which will declare 
 that he is not an oppressor? If there is, let him 
 stand forth, for him have I ofiended. Tremble, 
 t}'rant, tremble ! see with what horror freemen 
 shrink from your polluted touch. We enjoy 
 your agon)"^, but the public safely* requires it 
 should no longer be prolonged. I declare, if the 
 National Convention hesitate to pass tfie decree 
 of accusation, I will plunge this dagger in your 
 bosom;" and he drew the glittering steel from 
 his breast in the midst of the assembly, which 
 resounded with applause.* 
 
 During this impassioned harangue, which 
 
 was pronounced with the most ve- 
 S'SS'eVTe. hsment action, Robespierre sat mo- 
 
 tionless wuh terror. 1 he conven- 
 
 or Robespierre. 
 
 * Lac, XI., 93, 99. Mig., ii., 338. Th., vi., 431-435. 
 
 tion, amid a violent tumult, decreed the arrest 
 of Henriot, Dumas, and his other associates ; 
 and their own permanence, and numerous meas- 
 ures of precaution, were suggested. But Tal- 
 iien, who perceived that amid these multifarious 
 proposals the main object of destroying Robes- 
 pierre was likely to be forgot, resumed his place 
 in the tribune. " Let us think only of the ty- 
 rant ; you have not a moment to lose; he is ev- 
 ery hour collecting his strength. Why accumu- 
 late charges, when his conduct is engraven on 
 every heart ! Let him perish by the arm he has 
 invented to destroy others. To what accused 
 did he ever give the right of speaking in his de- 
 fence 1 Let us say, with the j uries of the Revo- 
 lutionary Tribunal, ' Our minds have long been 
 made up.' If you declare him kors la loi, can he 
 complain who has put hors la loi nine tenths of 
 France 1 Let there be no formalities with the ac- 
 cused; you cannot too much abridge their punish- 
 ment ; he has told you so himself a hundred times. 
 Let us strike him in the bosom of the assembly; 
 let his associates perish with him on the bench 
 of the Revolutionary Tribunal, in the club of 
 the Jacobins, at the head of the traitorous mu- 
 nicipality.''* 
 
 Robespierre tried in vain, during the tumult 
 which followed this address, to obtain a hear- 
 ing. The president, Thuiiot, whom he had often 
 threatened with death, constantly drowned his 
 voice by ringing his bell. In vain he looked for 
 support among the former satellites of his pow- 
 er; all, frozen with terror, shrunk from his gaze. 
 A das le tyran! resounded from all sides of the 
 hall. In despair, he turned to the few survivers 
 of the Girondists. " Retire from these benches," 
 they exclaimed; " Vergniaud and Condorcet 
 have sat here." " Pure and virtuous citizens," 
 said he, to the deputies on the right, " will you 
 give me the liberty of speech which the assas- 
 sins refuse 1" A profound silence followed the 
 demand. "For the last time, president of assas- 
 sins," said he, turning to the chair, " will you 
 allow me to speak 1" The continued noise 
 drowned his voice. He then sunk on his seat, 
 pale and exhausted ; his voice, which had be- 
 come a shrill scream from agitation and ve- 
 hemence,t at length totally failed ; foam issued 
 from his mouth. " Wretch !" exclaimed a voice 
 from the Mountain, "you are choked by the 
 blood of Danton." " Ah ! you would avenge 
 Danlon," rejoined Robespierre: "cowards, why 
 did you not defend him." " Citizens," exclaim- 
 ed Billaud Varennes, "liberty is about to be re- 
 stored." " Say rather," replied Robespierre, 
 " that crime is about to triumph," as he left the 
 hall with the other proscribed deputies. t 
 
 The act of accusation was then carried amid 
 the most violent agitation. The j, - ^ 
 younger brother of Robespierre had couthon.'st! 
 the generosity to insist that he should just, and 
 be included in the charge. " I am as Henriot or- 
 culpable as my brother." said he; "I dered to be 
 
 , ' , . . ■' T -ii- .. arrested, 
 
 share his virtues, 1 am willing to 
 
 share his fate." Le Bas followed his example. 
 At length the two Robespierres, Le Bas, Cou- 
 thon, St. Just, Dumas, and Henriot, were imani- 
 mously put under arrest, and sent to prison; and 
 the assembly broke up at five o'clock.! 
 
 During this stormy contest, the partisans of 
 Robespieire were collecting at the hall of th© 
 
 * Lac, xi., 100-102. Mig , ii., 338, 339. 
 t Ml?., ii., 339. Lac, xi., 103. Th., vi., 437, 43S. 
 Tciul., iv., 382. J Levasseur. iii., 147. 
 
 ^ Mig., ii., 340. Lac, xi., 104. Toul., iv., 383. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 307 
 
 Jacobins and at the Hotel de Villa. They ex- 
 pected that he would be victorious in the conven- 
 tion, and that ihe armed tbrce would only be 
 called on to support its decrees. Part of the 
 National Guard were assembled at tlie rendez- 
 vous, wiien a messenger arrived from the con- 
 vention requiring the mayor to appear at the bar, 
 and give an account of the stale of the capital. 
 " Return to your associates," said Henriot, "and 
 say that we are in deliberation here how to puri- 
 fy "their ranks. Tell Robespierre to remain firm 
 and fear nothing." At half past four they re- 
 ceived intelligence of the arrest of Robespierre 
 and his accomplices, which soon circulated with 
 the rapidity of lightning through Paris. Instant- 
 ly they gave orders to sound the tocsin, close the 
 barriers, convoke the general council, and as- 
 semble the sections. The Jacobins declared 
 their sittings permanent, and the most rapid 
 means of communication were established be- 
 tween these two great centres of the insurrec- 
 tion. *+ 
 
 To excite the people to revolt, Henriot, with a 
 drawn sabre in his hand, at the head of his stall', 
 traversed the streets, exclaiming, " To arms to 
 save the country !" In his course through the 
 Faubourg St. Antoine, he met the procession of 
 eighty prisoners, proceeding, as usual, to execu- 
 tion : the crowd had stopped the chariots, and 
 loudly demanded that they should be released ; 
 but he had the barbarity to order them to be led 
 on, and they all suflered. On his return, two 
 deputies of the convention met him in the Rue 
 St. Honoro, and prevailed on some horsemen to 
 obey the orders of the convention, and arrest his 
 person : he was handcuffed, and conducted to the 
 Committee of General Safety. About the same 
 time, the national agent Payan was seized ; the 
 convention seemed triumphant, its principal ene- 
 mies were in confinement.: 
 
 But the insurgents regained their advantage 
 Robespierre is between six and seven o'clock, in 
 injpnsoned, consequence of the dispersion of the 
 but liberated, members of the assembly, and the 
 energetic measures of the municipality. Robes- 
 pierre had been sent to the Conciergerie, and 
 the other conspirators to the different prisons in 
 Paris. The magistrates sent detachments to de- 
 liver them : Robespierre was speedily brought 
 in triumph to the Hotel de Ville, where he was 
 received with the utmost enthusiasm, and soon 
 joined by his brother and St. Just. Cofiinhal 
 set off at the head of tM-o hundred cannoniers to 
 deliver Henriot : he arrived in the Place de Car- 
 rousel, and having forced the guard of the con- 
 
 * Mi^., ii., 340. Lac, xi., 105, 108. Th., vi., 443. 
 
 t The followinor proclamation was immediately issued 
 from the Hotel de Ville : " Brothers and friends, the coun- 
 try is in imminent dang-er: the wicked have mastered the 
 convention, where they hold in chains the virtuous Robes- 
 pierre, who passed the decree, so consoling- to humanity, ou 
 the e.xistence of God and the immortality of the soul ; Cou- 
 thon, that venerable citizen, who has but a heart and a head 
 alive, thoug-h both are burning- with patriotism : St. Just, 
 that virtuous apostle, who first checked treason m the army 
 of the Rhine and the north : Le Bas, their worthy col- 
 leasue ; the young-er Robespierre, so well known for his la- 
 bours with the army of Italy : and who are their enemies ? 
 Collot d'llerbois, an old comedian, convicted under the old 
 regime of h.wing stolen the stron? box of his troop of play- 
 ers : Bourdon de I'Oise, that perpetual calumniator of the 
 municipality of Paris : one Barere, the readv tool of every 
 faction winch is uppermost : one Tallien, and Freron, inti- 
 mate friends of the infamous Danton. To arms I To arms I 
 let us not lose the fruit of the ISth of Au?ust and the 2d of 
 June. Death to the traitors." — Hist, de la Conv., iv 
 160, IGl. 
 
 t Lac, xi., 109. Toul., iv., 384, 385. Mi;?., ji., 341. 
 Th., vi., 442, 443. Hist, de la Conv., vi., 164. 
 
 vention, penetrated to the rooms of the Commit- 
 tee of General Safety, and delivered that impor- 
 tant leader.* 
 
 The assembly met at seven o'clock. Intelli- 
 gence was immediately brought of the fearful 
 successes of the insurgents, their insurrectionary 
 measures, the liberation of the triumvirs, the 
 assemblage at the Hotel de Ville, the convoca- 
 tion of Revolutionary committees, and of the 
 sections. In the midst of the alarm, the mem- 
 bers of the two committees, driven from their 
 offices, arrived in consternation with the account 
 of the forcing of the Tuileries, the delivery of 
 Henriot, and the presence of an armed Ibrce 
 roimd the convention. The agitation was at its 
 height, when Amar entered and announced that 
 the terrible cannoniers had pointed their guns 
 against the walls of their hall. " Citizens," said 
 the president, covering his face with Ids robe, 
 " the hour has arrived to die at our posts." 
 " We are ready to die," exclaimed the members. 
 Animated by a sublime resolution, every one 
 spontaneously resumed his seat, and the assem- 
 bly unanimously took the oath. The vociferous 
 crowd in the galleiy at the same time disap- 
 peared.t 
 
 In this extremity, Tallien and his friends act- 
 ed with the finnness which in revolu- Firmness of 
 tions so olten proves successful. " Ev- Tallien and 
 er}'thing conspires," said he, " to as- ^^^ party, 
 sure the triumph of the convention and the lib- 
 erty of France. By his revolt, Robespierre has 
 opened to us the only path which is safe with 
 tyrants. Thank Heaven, to deliver our coun- 
 tiy, we need not now await the uncertain decis- 
 ions of a tribunal filled with his creatures. He 
 has brought his fate upon himself; let us declare 
 him hors la loi with all his accomplices; let us 
 include the rebellious municipality in the decree ; 
 let us besiege him in the centre of his power; let 
 us instantly convoke the sections, and allow the 
 public horror to manifest itself by actions. Name 
 a commander of the armed force ; there must be 
 no hesitation: in such a strife, he who assumes 
 the offensive commands success." All these de- 
 crees were instantly passed; Henriot was de- 
 clared /wrs la loi, and Barras named to the com- 
 mand of the militar}^ force ; Freron, Bourdon de 
 rOise, and other determined men, associated with 
 him in the perilous duty. The Committee of 
 Public Saliety was now fixed on as the centre of 
 operations; the generale beat, and emissaries 
 were instantly despatched to all the sections, to 
 summon them to the delence of the convention,? 
 while a raacer was despatched to summon the 
 municipality to the bar of the assembly ; but 
 such was the arrogance of that body, in the anti- 
 cipation of immediate victory, that they returned 
 for answer, •' Yes, we shall come to their bar, 
 but at the head of the insurgent people. "§ 
 
 While the government were adopting these 
 energetic measures, Henriot was .pj^^ ^^nnoj,. 
 haranguing the cannoniers in the iers desert 
 Place de Carrousel. The fate of iJenriot in the 
 France hung on their decision; could Place <le Car- 
 he have persuaded them to act, the '^°^^'' ' 
 convention would have been destroyed before the 
 tardy succours could arrive from the remote 
 quarters of the capital. Happily, they could not 
 be brought to fire on the legislature, and their 
 
 * Mig-., ii., 342. Th.. iv., 445. Lac. xi., 109. 
 
 t Lac, xi., 112. Mig-., ii., 342. Th., vi., 446, 447.. 
 Toul.. iv., SSO-S'iS, 3.«B. Hist, de la Conv., iv. 179. 
 
 4 TouL.iv., 387. Th., vi.. 447, 448. Lac, xi., 112, 113. 
 Mig., ii., 342. >) Hist, de la Conv., iv., 177. 
 
308 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIV. 
 
 refusal decided the fortune of the day. Dispirit- 
 ed at this unwonted failure with the troops, and 
 alarmed at the cries which broke from the multi- 
 tude as soon as the decrees of the assembly were 
 known, he withdrew to the Hotel de Ville, the 
 armed force followed his example, and the con- 
 vention, so recently besieged within its walls, 
 speedily became the assailing party.* 
 
 Paris was soon in the most violent state of 
 Dreadful agitation. The tocsin summoned the 
 agitation Citizens to the Hotel de Ville, the goner- 
 at Pahs, ale called them to the convention. The 
 deputies of the assembly and the commissioners 
 of the municipality met in the sections, and 
 strove for the mastery in those important bodies. 
 On all sides the people hastened to arms ; the 
 streets were filled by multitudes crowding to their 
 dilferent rallying-points ; cries of Vive la Con- 
 vention, ViVc la Camnmtic, broke forth in the dif- 
 ferent columns, according to the prevailing opin- 
 ion of their members ; while the rolling of can- 
 non and ammunition wagons by torchlight 
 towards the Hotel de Ville gave a fearful pre- 
 sage of the contest that was approaching.! 
 
 The emissaries of the municipality first ar- 
 rived at the rendezvous of the sections ; but the 
 Ivational Guard, distracted and uncertam, hesi- 
 tated to obey the summons of the magistrates. 
 They could only be brought, in the first instance, 
 to send deputations to the commune, to inquire 
 into the state of affairs. Meanwhile, the news 
 of Robespierre's arrest circulated with rapidity, 
 and a ray of hope shot thi-ough the minds of 
 numerous proscribed individuals, who wei'e in 
 concealment in the city. With trembling steps 
 they issued from their hiding-places, and ap- 
 proaching the columns of their fellow-citizens, 
 besought them to assist in dethroning the t3'rant. 
 The minds of many were already shaken, those 
 of all in a state of uncertainty, when, at ten 
 o'clock, the commissioners of the convention ar- 
 rived with the intelligence of their decrees, of the 
 summons to assist them, of the appointment of a 
 commander-in-chief, and of a rallying-point at 
 The sections the hall of the assembly. Upon this 
 join the con- they no longer hesitated ; the battal- 
 vention. jgns of the National Guard from all 
 quarters marched towards the convention, and 
 defiled through the hall in the midst of the most 
 enthusiastic applause. At midnight above three 
 thousand men had arrived. " The moments are 
 precious," said Freron ; " the time for action has 
 come. Let us instantly march against the rebels ; 
 we will summon them, in the name of the assem- 
 bly, to deliver up the traitors and, if they refuse, 
 we will lay the Hotel de Ville in ashes." " De- 
 part," said Tallien, "and let the rising sun not 
 shine on one of the conspirators in life." The 
 order was promptly obeyed ; a few battalions and 
 pieces of artillery were left to guard the assem- 
 bly, and the remainder of the forces, under the 
 command of Barras, marched at midnight against 
 the insurgents. The night was dark, a feeble 
 moonlight only shone through the gloom; but 
 the forced illumination of the houses supplied a 
 vivid light, which shone on the troops, who, in 
 
 Erofound silence and in serried masses, marched 
 •om the Tuileries, along the quays of the river, 
 towards the Place de Greve, the headquarters of 
 the insurgents.! 
 The tumult now became so violent, that at 
 
 * Lac.xi.. 1 13. Toul., iv., 3S7, 388. Mi?., ii., 343. Th., 
 »i„448. i l.ac. XI., 115. Mig., U., 3l3. Toul., iv., 388. 
 
 t Mil , ii., 343, 344. Lac, xi., 114, 116. Tout., iv., 389. 
 Hist. <le la Conv., iy., 189, 190. 
 
 length the sound reached the prisons. The un- 
 happy inmates of their gloomy cells put their 
 ears to the bars of the windows, listened to every 
 sound, and yet trembled lest the agitation should 
 be the prelude to a general massacre of the cap- 
 tives. Soon, however, the downcast looks of the 
 jailers, words whispered to the ears of the fra- 
 mers of the lists, and the consternation of these 
 Avretclies, threw a ray of hope through their de- 
 spairing minds. Shortly after, it was discovered, 
 by hall-suppressed words heard in the streets, 
 that Robespierre was in danger ; the relations of 
 the captives placed themselves under the win- 
 dows, and informed them by signs of what was 
 passing, and then the exhilaration of the prison- 
 ers broke out in the most vehement and tumult- 
 uous joy.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the adherents of Robespierre, con- 
 sisting almost cntiiely of the cannon- preparations 
 iers, and of the armed force com- at the Hotel 
 manded b}^ Henriot, who were com- ^^ ^''i^e. 
 posed of the very lowest of the rabble, had as- 
 sembled in great force at the Hotel de Ville. 
 The Place de Greve was filled with jirtillery, 
 bayonets, and pikes; Robespierre had been re- 
 ceiv'ed with the utmost enthusiasm, and the de- 
 livery of Henriot raised to the highest pitch the 
 confidence of the conspirators. But as the night 
 advanced, and no columns of the National Guard 
 arrived, this confidence gave place to the most 
 sinister presentiments. Even in the Faubourg 
 St. Antoine, the centre of all former insurrections, 
 the delegates of the municipality failed in rousing 
 the populace. '• What the better have v.-e been," 
 said they, '• of all the insurrections 1 V\^hat has 
 Robespierre done for us 1 Where are the riches, 
 all the fields he promised us 1 When we are dying 
 of famine, does he expect to satisfy us by the daily 
 spectacle of a hundred aristocrats dying on the 
 scaffold 1 Does he suppose we are cannibals, to 
 feed on human flesh, and drink human blood 1 
 He has done nothing for us ;t we will do nothing 
 for him." Such was the language of the populace 
 in the most revolutionary quarter of Paris ; the 
 fever of innovation had exhausted itself; even 
 the lowest of the people were dissatisfied with the 
 rulers they had chosen for themselves. 
 
 At midnight the rumour began loudly to spread 
 through the ranks of the insurgents xhe cannonicrs 
 that the municipality had been de- desert Robes- 
 clared kors la loi, that the sections pierre, who is 
 had joined the convention, and that ^^ested. 
 their forces were advancing against the insur- 
 gents. To obviate its impression, Payan read 
 aloud in the coimcil-room the decree of the con- 
 vention, and inserted in it the names of all those 
 of their party whom he observed in the galler}', 
 hoping thereby to attach them, from desperation, 
 to the cause of Robespierre ; but an opposite ef- 
 fect immediately ensued, as they all instantly 
 took to flight, leaving the gallery deserted. Nor 
 did affairs wear a more promising aspect out of 
 doors. There were about two thousand men 
 stationed in the Place de Gr^ve, with a powerful 
 train of aHillery ; but their dispositions were al- 
 ready much shaken by the obvious defection of 
 their fellow-citizens, when the light of the torches 
 showed the heads of the columns of the National 
 Guards appearing in all the avenues which led to 
 the square. The moment was terrible; ten pieces 
 of the artiller}' of the convention were placed in 
 batter}^ while the cannoniers of the municipality, 
 
 * Th., vi., 450, 451. 
 
 + Lac, xi., 114, 115, Mig., ii., 344. Toul., iv., 380. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 309 
 
 ■with their lighted matches in their hands, stood 
 beside their guns on the opposite side. But the 
 authoriiv ol the law prevailed : the decree of the 
 legislature was read by torchlight, and the insur- 
 gent troops refused to resist it.* Some emissaries 
 of the convention glided into the ranks of the 
 municipality, and raised the cry Vice la Convcn- 
 ticm; the insurgents were moved by the harangue 
 of Meda, the commander of the National Artil- 
 lery, and in a short time the Place de Greve was 
 deserted, and the whole cannoniers retired to 
 their homes, or ranged themselves on the side of 
 the assembly. 
 
 Henriot descended the stair of the Hotel de 
 Ville, but, seeing the square deserted, lie vented 
 his execrations on his faithless Ibllowers, who 
 had, for the most part, abandoned the king in 
 the same manner on the 10th of August, and 
 hastened back to his comrades. The conspira- 
 tors, finding themselves unsupported, gave them- 
 selves up to despair ; the National Guard rushed 
 rapidly up the stair, and entered the room where 
 Robespierre and the leaders of the revolt were 
 assembled. Robespierre was sitting with his el- 
 how on his knees, and his head resting on his 
 hand ; Meda discharged his pistol, which broke 
 his under jaw, and he fell under the table. St. 
 Just implored Le Bas to put an end to his life. 
 "Coward, follow my example," said he, and 
 blew out his brains. Couthon was seized under 
 a table, feebly attempting to strike with a knife, 
 which he wanted the courage to plunge in his 
 heart ; Coflinhal and the younger Robespierre 
 threw themselves from the windows, and were 
 seized in the inner court of the building. Hen- 
 riot had been thrown down the stair by Coffin- 
 hal, but, though bruised and mutilated, he con- 
 trived to crawl into the entrance of a sewer, from 
 whence he was dragged out by the troops of the 
 convention.t; 
 Robespierre and Couthon being supposed to 
 
 be dead, were dragged by the heels 
 Dreadful scene j jj^g q^ j Pelletier, where it was 
 at his scizme. , , ', • . , 
 
 proposed to throw them mto the 
 
 river; but it being discovered, when da)' return- 
 ed, that they still breathed, they were stretched 
 on a board and carried to the assembly. The 
 members having refused to admit them, they 
 were conveyed to the Committee of General 
 Safety, where Robespierre lay for nine hours 
 stretched on a table, the same with that where 
 he had signed the death-warrant of so many 
 noble citizens, with his broken jaw still bleed- 
 ing, and suffering alike under bodily pain and 
 the execrations and insults of those around 
 him. During the whole time that this cruel tor- 
 ture lasted, he evinced a stoical apath}^ ; foam 
 merely issued from his mouth, which the hu- 
 manity of some around him led them to wipe 
 off; but his finger, still with convulsive energ)^, 
 was fixed on the holster of the pistol which he 
 had not had the courage to discharge.§ From 
 thence he was sent to the Conciergerie, where 
 he was confined in the same cell which had 
 been occupied by Danton, Hebert, and Chau- 
 
 * Th., vi., 482. Mi5.,ii., 344. Meda, Rev. Mem., xlii., 
 383. Hist, de la Conv., xv., 193. 
 
 t Lac., xi., 117. Mi».,ii., 345. Th., vi., 454, 455. Me- 
 da, Rev. Mem., xlii., 385. Levasseur, iii., 154. Toul., iv., 
 390. 
 
 t Many authors affirm that Robespierre shot himself. 
 That he had a pistiil in his hand is certain ; bat Levasseur 
 de la Sarthe and Meda, the gendarmes who arrested him, 
 agree in stating^ that his jaw was broken by a shot fired by 
 the last of these parties. — See Levasseur, iii., ]54. Med., 
 385. * Hist, de la Conv., iv., 203. Levass., iii., 135. 
 
 mette. At length he was brought, with all hia 
 associates, to the Revolutionary I'ribunal, and, 
 as soon as the identity of their persons was es- 
 tablished, they were condemned.* 
 
 At four in the morning on the 29th of July, 
 
 all Paris was in motion to witness,, , , .., 
 ., ] .u r .1. . . TT Executed with 
 
 the death ol the tyrant. He was st. Just, Hen- 
 placed on the chariot between Hen- not, Couthon, 
 riot and Couthon, whose remains ^"^l ^^l tlieir 
 were as mutilated as his o\vn ; the P"'y- 
 crowd, which for long had ceased to attend the 
 executions, manifested the utmost joy at their 
 fate. He was conducted to the Place de la Rev- 
 olution: the scaffold was placed on the spot 
 where Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette had 
 suffered. The blood from his jaw burst through 
 the bandage and overflowed his dress ; his face 
 was ghastly pale. He shut his eyes, but could 
 not close his ears against the imprecations of 
 the multitude. A woman, breaking from the 
 crowd, exclaimed, " Murderers of all my kin- 
 dred, your agony fills me with joy; descend to 
 hell, covered M'ith the curses of every mother in 
 France !" Twenty of his comrades were execu- 
 ted before him : when he ascended the scaffold, 
 tlie executioner tore the bandage from his face ; 
 the lower jaw fell upon his breast, and he utter- 
 ed a yell which filled ever}^ heart with horror. 
 For some minutes the frightful figure was held 
 up to the multitude; he was then placed under 
 the axe, and the last sounds which reached his 
 ears were the exulting shouts, which were pro- 
 longed for some minutes after his death. t 
 
 Along with Robespierre were executed Hen- 
 riot, Couthon, St. Just, Dumas, Cofhnhal, Si- 
 mon, and all the leaders of the revolt. St. Just 
 alone displayed the firmness which had so often 
 been witnessed among the victims whom they 
 had sent to the scaflbld. Couthon wept with 
 terror; the others died uttering blasphemies, 
 which were disowned in the cheers of the people. 
 They shed tears for joy; they embraced each 
 other in transport ; they crowded round the scaf- 
 fold, to behold the bloody remains of the tjTants. 
 " Yes, Robespierre, there is a God !" said a poor 
 man, as he approached the lifeless body of one 
 so lately the object of dread : his fall was felt by 
 all present as an immediate manifestation of the 
 Divinity.; 
 
 Thus terminated the Reign of Terror: a peri- 
 od fraught with greater political in- Reflections ou 
 struction than any of equal duration the Reign of 
 which has exi.sted since the begin- Terror; • 
 ning of the world. In no former period had the 
 efforts of the people so complete!}' triumphed, or 
 the higher orders been so thoroughly crushed by 
 the lower. The throne had been overturned, the 
 altar destroyed, the aristocracy levelled with the 
 dust; the nobles were in exile, the clergy in 
 captivity, the gentry in aflliction. A merciless 
 sword had waved over the state, destroying alike 
 the dignity of rank, the splendour of talent, and 
 the graces of beauty. All that excelled the la- 
 bouring classes in situation, fortune, or acquire- 
 ment, had "been removed; they had triumphed 
 over their oppressors, seized their possessions, 
 and risen into their stations. And what was the 
 consequence 1 The establishment of a more 
 cruel and revolting tyranny than any which man- 
 kind had yet witnessed ; the destruction of all 
 
 * RioufTe, 70. Mem., xiiii., 70. Mi?., ii., 345. Meda, 
 Rev. Mem., xlii., 386. Th., vi., 456. Lac., xi., 118, 119. 
 
 + Mig-., ii., 346. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 213. Toul., iv., 
 391. Th,vi., 457. Lac, xi., 120. Levas. 
 
 t Lac, u., 120. Mig., ii., 346. Th., vi., 457. 
 
310 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIV. 
 
 the charities and enjoyments of life; the dreadful 
 spectacle of streams of blood flowing tluough 
 ever}' part of France. The earliest friends, the 
 warmest advocates, the firmest supporters of the 
 people, were swept off indiscriminately with 
 With the pro- '•'''^if bitterest enemies; in the une- 
 digiousnura- qual Struggle, virtue and philan- 
 ber of its vie- thropy suniv under ambition and vi- 
 tims. olence, and society returned to a 
 
 state of chaos, when all the elements of private 
 or public happiness were scattered to the winds. 
 Such are the results of unchaining the passions 
 of the multitude ; such the peril of suddenly ad- 
 mitting the light upon a benighted people.* 
 
 The facility with which a faction, composed 
 of a few of the most audacious and reckless of 
 the nation, triumphed over the immense majority 
 of all the holders of property in the kingdom, and 
 led them forth like victims to the sacrifice, is not 
 the least extraordinary or memorable part of that 
 eventful period. The active part of the bloody 
 faction at Paris never exceeded a few hundred 
 men ; their talents were by no means of the high- 
 est order, nor their w^eight in society considerable ; 
 yet they trampled under foot all the influential 
 classes, ruled mighty armies with absolute sway, 
 kept 200,000 of their fellow-citizens in captivity, 
 and daily led out several hundred persons, of the 
 best blood in France, to execution. Such is the 
 effect of the unity of action which atrocious wick- 
 edness produces ; such the consequence of rous- 
 ing the cupidity of the lower orders ; such the 
 
 * The extent to which blood was shed in Fiance during 
 this melancholy period will hardly be credited by future 
 ages. The Republican Prudhonime, whose prepossessions 
 led him to anything rather than an exaggeration of the hor- 
 rors of the popular party, has given the following appalling 
 account of the victims of the Revolution : 
 
 Nobles 1 ,278 
 
 Noble women 750 
 
 Wives of labourers and artisans 1,467 
 
 Reliffieuses 350 
 
 Priests 1,! 35 
 
 Common persons, not noble 13,G23 
 
 Guillotined by sentence of the Revo- ) , o «„, , „ ^no 
 
 lutionary Tribunals \ ^^'^"^ ^^'^"^ 
 
 Women died of premature childbirth 3,400 
 
 In childbirth from grief. 348 
 
 Women killed in La Vendee 15,000 
 
 Children killed in La Vendee 22,000 
 
 Men slain in La Vendue 900,000 
 
 Victims under Carrier at Nantes 32,000 
 
 ... f Children shot 500 
 
 Children drowned 1500 
 
 Women shot 264 
 
 ^ Women drowned 500 
 
 3 "I Priests shot 300 
 
 •| I Priests drowned 460 
 
 vm I Nobles drowned 1400 
 
 O |_ Artisans drowned 5300 
 
 Victims at Lyons 31,000 
 
 Total 1,022,351 
 
 In this enumeration are not comprehended the massacres 
 at Versailles, at the Abbey, the Carmes, or other prisons on 
 the 2d of September, the victims of the Glaciere of Avignon, 
 those shot at Toulon and Marseilles, or the persons slain in 
 the little town of Uedoin, of which the wliole population 
 perished.* 
 
 It is in an especial manner remarkable, in this dismal cata- 
 logue, how large a proportion of the victims of the Revolu- 
 tion were persons in the middling and lower ranks of life. 
 The priesrs and nobles guillotined are only 2413, while the 
 persons of plebeian origin exceed 13,000 I The nobles and 
 priests put to death at Nantes were only 2160, while the in- 
 fants drowned and shot are 2000, the women 764, and the 
 artisans 5300 ! So rapidly, in revolutionary convulsions, docs 
 the career of cruelty reach the lower orders, and so wide- 
 spread IS tlie carnage dealt out to them, compared with that 
 •which they have sought to infhct on their superiors. 
 
 * Prudhomme, Vict, de U Rev. Ctuteaub., £tud. Hiat., Fr., 9S, 97. 
 
 ascendency which in periods of anarchy is ac- 
 quired by the most savage and lawless of the 
 people. The peaceable and inofl'ensive citizens 
 lived and wept in silence ; terror crushed every 
 attempt at combination ; the extremity of grief 
 subdued even the firmest hearts. In despair at 
 eflecting any change in the general sufierings, 
 apathy universally prevailed, the people sought 
 to bury their sorrows in the delirium of present; 
 enjoyments, and the theatres were never fuller 
 than during the whole duration of the Reign of 
 Terror.* Ignorance of human nature can alone 
 lead us to ascribe this to any peculiarity in the 
 French character ; the same efl'ects have been 
 observed in all parts and ages of the world, as in- 
 variably attending a state of extreme and long- 
 continued distress. 
 
 How, then, did a faction, whose leaders were 
 so extremely contemptible in point of numbers, 
 obtain the power to rule France with such abso- 
 lute sway 1 The answer is simple. It was by 
 an expedient of the plainest kind, and by steadily 
 following out one principle, so obvious that few 
 have sought for the cause of such terrible phe- 
 nomena in its application. This was by pro- 
 moting, and to a great extent actually giving, to 
 the working-classes the influence and the pos- 
 sessions of all the other orders in the state. Eges- 
 tas ciopida novariivi rerum was the maxim on 
 which they acted; it was to this point, the cupid- 
 ity and ambition of those to whom Ibrtune had 
 proved adverse, that all their measures were di- 
 rected. Their principle was to keep the revolu- 
 tionary passions of the people constantly awake 
 by the display of fresh objects of desire ; to rep- 
 resent all the present misery which the system 
 of innovation had occasioned, as the consequence 
 of the resistance which the holders of property 
 had opposed to its progress ; and to dazzle the 
 populace by the pro.spect of boundless felicity, 
 when the revolutionary equality and spoliation 
 for which they contended was fully established. 
 By this means they effectually secured, over the 
 greaterpart of France, the co-operation of the mul- 
 titude ; and it was by their physical strength, gui- 
 ded and called forth by the revolutionary' clubs and 
 committees universally established, and every- 
 where composed of the most ardent of the Jacobin 
 faction, that their extraordinary power was sup- 
 ported. This system succeeded perfectly as long 
 as the victims of spoliation were the higher orders • 
 and considerable holders of property : it was when 
 they were exhausted, and the edge of the guillo- 
 tine began to descend upon the shopkeepers and 
 the more opulent of the labouring classes, that 
 the general reaction took place which overturned 
 the Reign of Terror. When society is in so cor- 
 rupt and profligate a form, that a faction, quali- 
 fied by their talents and energy to take the lead 
 in public affairs, can be found who will carry on 
 the government on their principles, and they are 
 not crushed in the outset by a united effort of 
 all the holders of property, it can hardly tail of 
 obtaining temporary success. It is well that the 
 friends of order, of every political persuasion — 
 and they are to be found as much among the 
 supporters of rational freedom as the advocates 
 of monarchical power — should be aware of the 
 deadly weapon which is in the possession of 
 their adversaries, and the necessity of uniting to 
 wrest it from their hands the moment that it is 
 unsheathed: and it would be fortunate if the 
 agents of revolution would contemplate, in the 
 
 * Louvet, 124, 125. Mercier, Tableau de Paris. 
 
1794] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 311 
 
 Reign of Terror and the fate of Robespierre, the 
 necessary eftects of using it to their country and 
 themselves. 
 
 'I'here is no character, however, which has 
 not some redeeming points : pure, unmixed 
 wickedness is the creation of romance, but nev- 
 er yet appeared in real life. Even the Jacobins 
 of Paris were not destitute of good qualities : 
 history would deviate equally from its first duty 
 and its chief usefulness if it did not bring them 
 prominently forward. With the exception of 
 some atrocious charactei's, such as Collotd'Her- 
 bois, Fouclu'-, Carrier, and a few others, who 
 were almost entirely guided by base and selfish 
 motives, they were, in general, men possessed of 
 some qualities in which the seeds of a noble 
 character are to be found. In moral courage, 
 energ}' of character, and decision of conduct, 
 they yielded to none in ancient or modern times : 
 their heroic resolution to maintain, amid unex- 
 ampled perils, the independence of their countr}', 
 "was worthy of the best days of Roman patriot- 
 ism. If this noble desire could be separated 
 from the obvious necessity of repelling the allies 
 to avoid punishment for the numberless crimes 
 ■which they had committed, it would be deserving 
 of the highest admiration: mingled, as it neces- 
 sarily was in their case, with a large portion of 
 that baser alloy, it is still a redeeming point in 
 their character. Some of them, doubtless, were 
 selfish or rapacious, and used their power for 
 the purposes of individual lust or private emolu- 
 ment ; but others, among whom we must num- 
 ber Robespierre and St. Just, were entirelj' free 
 from that degrading contamination, and in the 
 atrocities they committed, were governed, if not 
 by public principle, at least by private ambition. 
 Even the blood which they shed was often the 
 result, in their estimation, not so much of terror 
 or danger as of overbearing, necessity : they 
 deemed it essential to the success of freedom, 
 and regarded the victims who perished under the 
 guillotine as the melancholy sacrifice which re- 
 quired to be laid on its altars. In arriving at 
 this frightful conclusion, they were, doubtless, 
 mainly influenced by the perils of their own sit- 
 uation ; they massacred others because they were 
 conscious that death,ifvanquished, justly await- 
 ed themselves; but still the weakness of human- 
 ity in their, as in many similar ca.ses, deluded 
 them by the magic of words, or the supposed 
 influence of purer motives, and led them to com- 
 mit the greatest crimes while constantly profess- 
 ing the noblest intentions. There is nothing 
 surprising or incredible in this: we have only to 
 recollect that all France joined in a crasade 
 against the Albigeois, and that its bravest war- 
 riors deemed themselves secure from eternal, by 
 consigning thousands of wretches to temporal 
 flames: we have only to go back in imagination 
 to Godfrey of Bouillon and the Christian warri- 
 ors putting forty thousand unresisting citizens to 
 death on the storming of Jerusalem, and wading 
 to the Holy Sepulchre ankle-deep in human 
 gore, to be convinced that such delusions are not 
 peculiar to any particular age or countiy, but 
 that they are the universal oflTspring of fanati- 
 cism, whether in political or religious contests. 
 The writers who represent the Jacobins as mere 
 bloodthirsty wretches, vultures, insatiate in their 
 passion for destruction, are well-meaning and 
 amiable, but weak and ignorant men ; unac- 
 quainted with the real woi'king of delusion or 
 "wickedness in the human heart, and calculated 
 to mislead, rather than direct, future ages on the 
 
 approach of times similar to that in which they 
 obtained their ascendency. Vice never appears 
 in such colours : it invariably conceals its real 
 defonnity. If other states are ever to be ruled 
 by a Jacobin faction, the advent of their power 
 will not be marked by sanguinary professions or 
 the hideous di.splay of heartless atrocity; it will 
 be ushered in by the warmest expressions of phi- 
 lanthropy, by boundless hopes of felicity, and 
 professions of the utmost regard for the great 
 principles of public justice and general happi- 
 ness. ♦t 
 
 There is no opinion more frequently stated by 
 the annalists and historians of the Revolution on 
 the popular side in France, than that the march 
 of the Revolution was inevitable ; that an invin- 
 cible fatality attends all such convulsions; and 
 that by no human exertions could its progress 
 have been changed, or its horrors averted. The 
 able works of Thiers, Mignet, and many others, 
 are mainly directed to this end ; and it consti- 
 tutes, in their estimation, the best apology of the 
 Revolution. Never was an opinion more erro- 
 neous. There is nothing in the annals of human 
 affairs which warrants the conclusion that im- 
 provement necessarily leads to revolution ; and 
 that in revolution, a succession of rulers, each 
 more sanguinary' and atrocious than the prece- 
 ding, must be endured before the order of society 
 is restored. It is not the career of reform — it is 
 the career of guilt which leads to these conse- 
 quences; this deplorable succession took place 
 
 * Levasseur de la Sarthe, vol. i., 24, 80 ; lii., 164, 226. 
 
 t The alilest and most interesting apology for the Jaco- 
 bins is to be found in the Memoirs of Levasseur de la Sarthe, 
 himself no inconsiderable actor in their sanguinary deeds. 
 It is highly satisfactory to have such a work to do justice to 
 their intentions ; and it is a favourable symptom of the love 
 of impartiality in the human heart, that even Robespierre 
 and St. Just have had their defenders. Napoleon was of 
 ojiinion that the character of the former of these men had 
 been too severely handled by subsequent writers. " He was 
 of opinion," says Las Casas, " that Robespierre had neither 
 talent, nor force, nor system ; that he was the true emissa- 
 ry of the Revolution, who was sacrificed the moment that he 
 strove to arrest it in its course ; the fate of all those who 
 before himself had engaged m the attempt, but that he was 
 by no means the monster that was commonly believed." 
 " Robespierre," said he, " was at last desirous to stop the 
 public executions. He had not been at the committees for 
 six weeks before his fall ; and in his letters to his brother, 
 who was attached to the army at Nice, which I myself saw, 
 he deplored the atrocities which were going forward, and 
 ruining the Revolution by the pity which they excited. 
 Cauibacerrs, who is to be regarded as an authority for that 
 epoch, said to me, in relation to the condemnation of Robes- 
 pierre, ' Sire, that was a case in which judgment was pro- 
 nounced without hearing the accused.' You may add to that, 
 that his intentions were different from what is generally 
 supposed : he had a plan, after having overturned the fu- 
 rious factions whom lie required to combat, to have return- 
 ed to a system of order and moderation." " Some time be- 
 fore his fall," said Cambaceres, " he pronounced a discourse 
 on that subject, full of the greatest beauties ; it was not 
 permitted to be inserted in the Moniteur, and all traces of 
 it have, in consequence, been lost." — Las Casas, i., 366. 
 Levasseur de la Sarthe also strenuously supports the same 
 opinion ; maintaining that Robespierre was cut off just at 
 the moment when he was preparing a return to a system of 
 humanity and beneficence. — Levasseur, iv., 110, 111. If 
 this be true, it only augments the weight of the moral les- 
 son to be derived from their lustory, that even by such men 
 a return to order and justice was felt to be indispensable. 
 
 Whatever opinions may be entertained on this point, one 
 thing seems very clear, that Robespierre's abilities were of 
 the highest order, and that the contrary opinions expressed 
 by so many of his contemporaries v.-ere suggested by envy or 
 horror. It is impossible in any other way to account for his 
 long dominion over France, at a period when ta!ent of every 
 sort was hurled forth m wild confusion to the great central 
 arena at Paris. His speeches are a sufficient indication of 
 the vigour of his mind ; they are distinguished in many in- 
 stances by a nervous eloquence, a fearless energy, a simple 
 and manly cast of thought, very different from most of the 
 frothy declamations at the tribune. 
 
312 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XV 
 
 in France, not because changes were made, but 
 because boundless crimes in the course of these 
 changes were committed. The partisans oi' lib- 
 eral institutions have fallen into a capital error, 
 when, in their anxiety to exculpate the actors in 
 the Revolution, they liave laid its horrors on the 
 cause of the Revolution itself; to do so was to 
 brand the cause of freedom with infamy, when 
 it should have been confined to its wicked sup- 
 porters. It was the early commission of crime 
 by the leaders of the Revolution which precipi- 
 tated and rendered irretrievable its subsequent 
 scenes ; the career of passion in nations is pre- 
 ci.sely similar to its excesses in individuals, and 
 subject to the same moral laws. If we would 
 seek the key to the frightful aberrations of the 
 Revolution, we hare only to turn to the exposi- 
 tion, by the great English divines, of the career 
 of guilty designs in the individual; the descrip- 
 tion of the one might pass for a faitttful portrait 
 
 of the other.* There is a necessity tc M^hich 
 both are subjected ; but it is not a blind fatality 
 or a necessary connexion between change and 
 convulsion, but the moral law of nature, that 
 vice, whether in nations or private men, is made 
 to work out its deserved punishment in the ef- 
 Ibrts which it makes lor its own gratification. 
 
 The death of Hebert and the anarchists was 
 that of guilty depravity ; that of Robespierre and 
 the decemvirs, of sanguinary fanaticism ; that 
 of Danton and his conlederates, of stoical infidel- 
 ity ; that of Madame Roland and the Girondists,, 
 of reckless ambition and deluded virtue ; that 
 of Louis and his family, of religious forgive- 
 ness. The moralist will contrast the different 
 efieets of virtue and wickedness in the last mo- 
 ments of life ; the Christian will mark with 
 thankfulness the superiority in the supreme hour, 
 to the sublimest etlbrts of human virtue, which 
 was evinced by the believers in his own faith. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 INTERNAL .STATE OF FRANCE DtJRING THE KEIGN OF TERROR. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Vast Exertions of the French Government during theReig^n 
 of Terror. — Its enormous Expenditure. — Prodigious Issue 
 of Assignats ; its Etfects. — Their rapid Depreciation. — 
 Origin of the Law of the Maximum on Prices. — Great In- 
 crease of Disorders and Gambling from the rapid Clianges 
 of Prices. — Forced Requisitions of Grain, Horses, and 
 Carriages. — Public Robbery for Support of Populace of 
 Cities. — The immense Burden it imposed on the State. — 
 Forced Loans from the Opulent Classes. — Confusion of 
 the old and Revolutionary Debt. — Continued Fall of the 
 Assignats. — Severe Laws against Forestallers and all 
 Public Companies. — Direful Effects of these Laws. — Ex- 
 cessive Violence of the People from the Rise of Prices. — ■ 
 Renewed Measures of Seventy by the Municipality and 
 of the Convention. — Establishment of the Committee of 
 Subsistence. — Absolute Poweis of the Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety. — Grinding Oppression on the Poor. — Equaliza- 
 tion of Weights and Measures, and Decimal Notation. — 
 Sunday abolished. — The Decade Established. — Destitute 
 and deplorable Condition of the Poor. — People of Paris put 
 on reduced Rations. — Fresh arbitrary Taxation of the Opu- 
 lent. — Conversion of the Life into perpetual Annuitants. 
 — Reflections on the successive Destruction of all Classes 
 by the Revolution ; but it necessarily results from tlie 
 Development of the Revolutionary Passion. — Successive 
 Steps of its disastrous Progress. — Irresistible Power which 
 made the one lead to the other. — Great Effect of these 
 Changes on the Distribution of the Landed Property of 
 France. — Its Effect on Population. 
 
 The internal and financial situation of France, 
 during, and subsequent to the Reign of Terror, 
 is equally instructive as to the inevitable conse- 
 quence of revolutions, and the cau.ses of the mil- 
 itary events which subsequently occurred. 
 
 Nothing could have enabled the French gov- 
 ernment to make head against the 
 of^'the'^French difficulties of their situation, and the 
 government formidable attack of the European 
 during ttie powers in 1793, but the immen.se 
 Reign of Ter- jg^.^ ^f 1500,000 men which then 
 took place, the conii.-^cation of half 
 the landed property in the kingdom, and the un- 
 bounded issue of assignats on the security of the 
 national domains. These great measures, which 
 no government could have attempted but during 
 the fervour of a revolution, mutually upheld 
 each other, and perpetuated the Revolutionary 
 system by the important interests which were 
 made to depend on its continuance. The im- 
 mense levy of soldiers drew off almost all the ar- 
 
 dent and energetic spirits, and not only furnished 
 bread to the multitudes whom the closing of all 
 pacific employments had deprived of subsistence,, 
 but let off, in immense chamiels, the inflamed and 
 diseased blood of the nation; the confiscation of the 
 land placed funds worth above £700,000,000 ster- 
 ling at the disposal of the government, which 
 they were enabled to squander with boundless- 
 profusion in the maintenance of the Revolution- 
 ary regime at home, and the contest with its en- 
 emies abroad; the extraordinary issue of paper, 
 to the amount ultimately of i;350,000,000, which 
 always enabled the treasury to liquidate its de- 
 mands, and interested every holder of property 
 in the kingdom in the support of the national do- 
 mains, the only security on which it rested. 
 During the unparalleled and almost demoniac 
 
 * Take, for example, the following passage from Arch- 
 bishop TiUotson ; " All vice stands upon a precipice ; to en- 
 gage in any sinful course is to run down the hill. If we 
 once let loose the propensities of our nature, we cannot gath- 
 er in the reins and govern them as we please ; it is much 
 easier not to begin a bad course than to stop it when begun. 
 'Tis a good thing for a man to think to set bounds to himself 
 in anything tbat is bad ; to resolve to sin in number, weighty 
 and measure with great temperance and discretion ; that 
 he will commit this sin and then give over ; entertain but 
 this one temptation, and after that, shut the door and admit 
 no more. Our corrupt hearts, when they are once set ia 
 motion, are like the raging sea, to which we can set no 
 bounds, nor say to it. Hitherto shalt thou come, and no far- 
 ther.- Sin is very cunning and deceitful, and does strangelj" 
 gain upon men when once they give way to it. It is of a 
 very bewitching nature, and hath strange arts of address 
 and insinuation. The giving way to a small sin doe.s mar- 
 vellously prepare and dispose a man for a greater. By giv- 
 ing way to one little vice after another, the strongest resolu- 
 tion may be broken. 'Tis scarce imaginalile of what force a 
 single bad action is to produce more : fur sin is very teeiiiing 
 and fruitful, and though there be no blessing annexed to it, 
 yet it does strangely increase and multiply. As there is a 
 connexion of one virtue with another, so vices are linked 
 together, and one sin draws many after it. When the dev- 
 il tempts a man to commit any wickedness, he does, as it 
 were, lay a long train of sins, and if the first temptatioa 
 take, they give fire to another. Let us, then, resist the be- 
 ginnings of sin : because we have then most power, and sin 
 least."— Tillotson, Serm. x. Works, i., 91, fol. ed. This 
 might stand for a graphic picture of the downward progress 
 of the revolutionary passion in nations ; philosophy will 
 strive in vain to give so clear an elucidation of the causes 
 which render it, when once thoroughly awakened, so de- 
 structive in lis career. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 313 
 
 energy produced by the sudden operation of these 
 powerful causes, France was unconquerable; 
 and it was their combined operation which 
 brought it triumphant tluough that violent and 
 unprecedented crisis.* 
 
 Europe has had too much reason to become 
 acquainted with the military power 
 extndj'uTrr developed by France during this 
 expen ure. ^^^^^^^^^ period; but the civil force, 
 exerted by the dictators within their own domin- 
 ions, though less generally known, was, perhaps, 
 still more remarkable. Fifty thousand Revolu- 
 tionary committses were soon established in the 
 Republic, and embraced above 500,000 members, 
 all the most resolute and determined of the Jaco- 
 bin party. Each of these individuals received 
 three francs a day as his wages for seeking out 
 victims lor arrest and the scafibld; and their 
 annual charge was 591,000,000 of francs, or 
 j;'24,000,000 .sterling.t Between the military de- 
 fenders and civil servants of the government, al- 
 most all the active and resolute men in France 
 were in the pay of the dictators, and the whole 
 starving energy of the country' fed on the spoils 
 of its defenceless opulence ; a terrible system, 
 drawing after it the total dissolution of society : 
 capable of being executed only by the most au- 
 dacious wickedness, but never likely, when it is 
 attempted, of failing, for a time at least, of suc- 
 cess. 
 
 " When a native of Louisiana," says Montes- 
 quieu, " wishes to obtain the fruit of a tree, he 
 lays the axe to its root : behold the emblem of 
 despotism !" He little imagined how soon his 
 own country was to afford a signal example of 
 this truth. This system of revolutionaiy activi- 
 ty and plunder produced astonishing ellects for 
 a limited period, just as an individual who in a 
 few years squanders a great fortune, outshines 
 all those who live only on the fruits of their in- 
 dustry. But the inevitable period of weakness 
 soon arrives ; the maniac who exerts demoniac 
 strength cannot in the end withstand the steady 
 efforts of intelligence ; the career of extravagance 
 is in general short ; bankruptcy arrests alike the 
 waste of improvidence and lire splendour wliich 
 attends it. 
 
 Carabon, the minister of finance, soon after the 
 Prodigious ^^^^ ^^ Robespierre, made an impor- 
 jssueofas- tant and astonishing revelation of the 
 signals. Its length to which the emission of assig- 
 effects. y^fg jj^^j Ijgpj^ carried under the Reign 
 of Terror. The national expenses had exceed- 
 ed three hundred millions of francs, or above 
 ^12,000,000 a month ; the receipts of the treasury 
 during the disorder which prevailed never ex- 
 ceeded a fourth part of that sum ; and there was 
 no mode of supplying the deficiency but by an 
 incessant issue of paper money. The quantity 
 in circulation at the fall of Robespierre amount- 
 ed to six milliards, four hundred millions, about 
 ^300,000,000 sterling; while the national do- 
 mains were still worth twelve milliards, or above 
 X520,000,000 sterling.t But this astonishing is- 
 sue of paper could not continue, without intro- 
 ducing a total confusion of property of every sort. 
 All the persons employed by government, both 
 in the civil and military departments, were paid 
 in the paper currency at par; but as it rapidly 
 lell, from the enormous quantity in circulation, 
 to a tenth part, and soon a twentieth of its real 
 value, the pay received was merely nominal, and 
 
 * Tout., v.. 194. Th., vii.,230. 
 
 t Cluiteaub., Etud. Hist. Preface, 97, ! 
 
 t Report of Cambou. Th., vii., 134. 
 
 Vol. I. — tt R 
 
 those in the receipt of the largest apparent in- 
 comes were in want of the common necessaries 
 of life. Pichegru, at the head of the army of the 
 north, with a nominal pay of four thousand 
 francs, was only in the actual receipt, on the 
 Rhine, in 1795, of two hundred francs, or £8^ 
 sterling a month in gold or silver ; a smaller sum 
 than is the pay of an English lieutenant: and. 
 Hoche, the commander of 100,000 men, the army 
 of La Vendee, besought the government to send 
 him a horse, as he was unable to purchase one, 
 and the military requisitions had exhausted all 
 those in the covmtry where he commanded. If 
 such was the condition of the superior, it may be 
 imagined what was the situation of the inferior 
 officers and private soldiers, while in their owa 
 countr)' they were literally starving ; and the ne- 
 cessity of conquest was felt as strongly, to enable 
 them to live* on the spoils of their enemies, as ta 
 avert the sword of desolation from the frontiers 
 of France. 
 
 This constant and increasing depreciation of 
 the assignats produced its natural and 
 
 unavoidable effect in a great en- It'"!?'*^ 
 , ^ , . „ ° . . uepreciation, 
 
 hancement ol the pnce oi provisions, 
 
 and all the articles of human consumption. The 
 assignats were not absorbed in the purchase of 
 the national domains, because the holders were 
 distrustful of the security of the Revolutionary 
 title, which they could alone receive, as their is- 
 sue continued at the rate of X10,000,000 sterling 
 a month ; of course, the market became gorged, 
 and the value of the assignats rapidly declined. 
 Though this depreciation was unavoidable, the 
 convention endeavoured to arrest it, and enacted 
 the punishment of six years of irons against auj- 
 who should exchange any quantity of silver or 
 gold for a greater nominal value of assignats, or 
 should ask a larger price for any articles of mer- 
 chandise, if the price was paid in paper, than if 
 paid in the precious metals. It is needless to say 
 that this forced attempt to sustain the value of 
 the assignats was totally nugatory, and the con- 
 sequences soon became fatal to many classes of 
 persons. Debtors of every description hastened 
 to discharge their obligations ; and the creditors^ 
 compelled to accept paper at par, which was not 
 worth a fifth or a tenth, at last not an hundredth, 
 of its nominal value, were defrauded of the great- 
 er part of their property. The working classes,, 
 whose wages, in consequence of the general stag- 
 nation of industry, had by no means risen in pro- 
 portion to this fall in the value of the assignats, 
 found themselves miserably off for the necessa- 
 ries of life ; while the farmers, raising the price 
 of their provisions in proportion to the fall in the 
 value of paper, soon elevated them beyond the 
 reach of the labouring poor. This state of things^ 
 so opposite to what they had been led to expect as 
 the result of a revolution, excited the most vehe- 
 ment discontent among the working classes; they 
 ascribed it all, as is always the case, to the efforts 
 of forestallers, and demanded with loud cries that 
 they should be led out to the guillotine.t 
 
 It became, then, absolutely necessary to have 
 recourse lo a ynaxhnvvi: powerful as ori<nnoftlie 
 the Committee of Public Safety was, law'of the 
 a longer continuance of the public dis- maximum oa 
 contents would have endangered its P>'"=«*' 
 existence. Corn was indeed not wanting, but 
 the farmers, dreading the tumult and violence of 
 the markets, and unwilling to part with their 
 produce at the nominal value of the assignats, 
 
 Th., Tiii., 103, 113, 446. 
 
 t Th., T., 147, 149. 
 
314 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XY. 
 
 refused to bring it to the towns. To such a pitch 
 
 did this evil arise in the beji;inning of 
 
 May 4, 1793. jyj^y^ j^-y;}^ fj,a^ (ijg convention were 
 
 forced to issue a decree, compelling the farmers 
 and grain merchants to declare what stock they 
 had in their possession, and to bring it to the pub- 
 lic markets at a price fixed by each commune. 
 Domiciliary visits were authorized, to inspect 
 the stock of each holder of grain, and false re- 
 turns punished by a forfeiture of the whole. In 
 addition to this, the distribution of bread by the 
 bakers was provided for in the most minute man- 
 ner: no one could obtain bread without produ- 
 cing a carle de sureU, issued by the Revolution- 
 ary committees ; and on that carle was inscribed 
 the number of his family, and the quantity to be 
 delivered to each member. Finally, to put an 
 end to the scandalous scenes which generally 
 took place at the bakers' doors, it was enacted 
 that each bread-shop should have a rope attach- 
 ed to it; each person, as he arrived, was obliged 
 to take it in his hand, and remain quietly there 
 till all before him were served. But in the strug- 
 gles of discontent and famiire the cord was fre- 
 quently broken; fierce conflicts ensued, and noth- 
 ing but a prompt interposition of military force 
 ■was able to restore tranquillity.* To such mi- 
 nute and vexatious regulations are governments 
 reduced when they once violate the freedom of 
 human action, and to such a load of fetters do 
 the people subject themselves when they aban- 
 don themselves to the insane passion for Demo- 
 cratic power. 
 
 All the other articles of life besides com speed- 
 „ lly rose with the increased issue of 
 
 "Great increase ,-' . ^ j ^i. i 
 
 of disorders and the assigiiats, and the people per- 
 gambling from sisted in ascribing to forestallers 
 the rapid the natural consequences of a de- 
 
 change of pn- predated circulation. Frightful tu- 
 mults arose : the boats which de- 
 scended the Seine with groceries, fruits, and 
 wood, were seized and plundered ; by the advice 
 of Marat, they on one occasion rose and plun- 
 dered all the confectioners' shops. Terrified at 
 the continual recurrence of these disorders, the 
 capitalists declined investing their money in 
 purchases of any sort ; and the shares in foreign 
 mercantile companies rose rapidly, from the in- 
 creased demand for them, as the only investment 
 affoi-ding a tolerable degree of security :t another 
 striking proof of the consequences of the disor- 
 ders consequent on popular ambition, and their 
 tendency to turn from the people the reservoirs 
 by which their industry is maintained. 
 
 During the perils and chances of a revolu- 
 tion, the tendency to gambling of every sort pro- 
 digiously increased. Men who had the sword 
 of Damocles continually suspended over their 
 heads, sought to make the most of the numerous 
 chances of making money, which the rapid rise 
 and fall of the assignats, and the boundless pro- 
 fusion of articles of luxury- brought into the mar- 
 ket by the ruin of their owniers, naturally occa- 
 sioned. The bourse of Paris was crowded with 
 bankers, Revolutionists, ci-devant priests, ruined 
 nobles, and adventurers of every description, 
 •who sometimes made enormous gains, and pass- 
 ed a life of debaucher}' -nith actresses, opera-dan- 
 cers, and abandoned women of ever}' description, 
 ■whom the dissolution of society had brought in 
 contact with those who had risen for the moment 
 on the wheels of forttme. Such was the univer- 
 sal dissolution of manners, arising from the dread 
 
 Th.,T., 151. 
 
 t Th. T., 152, 156. 
 
 of popular jealousy, that almost all the members 
 of tlie convention lived publicly with mistresses, 
 who became possessed of much of the influence 
 in the state. To have done otherwise would 
 have exposed them to the blasting su.spicion of 
 their being Christians and Royalists.* 
 
 The forced requisitions of horses, ammunition, 
 provisions, and stores of every sort Forced requi- 
 from the people, soon proved the sitions. Aug. 
 source of intmite and most vexa- •*> l"'-'^- 
 tious burdens. In August, 1793, eighteen com- 
 missioners were nominated by the convention, 
 with powers to require from the primary assem- 
 blies in eveiy part of France unlimited supplies 
 of men, horses, provisions, and ammunition. 
 The principle founded on was, that the men and 
 animals indispensable for the purposes of agri- 
 culture should alone be preserved, and that the 
 remainder might be seized for the purposes of 
 the Republic. All the horses of draught and bur- 
 den not absolutely required by the cultivators or 
 manufacturers, were seized for the state ; all the 
 arms of every description appropriated by the 
 government commissioners ; the great hotels of 
 the emigrants confiscated to the use of the state, 
 converted into vast worshops for the manufac- 
 ture of arms, clothing, or equipment for the ar- 
 mies, or magazines for the storing of subsist- 
 ence for the use of the people. The principal 
 manufactory of arms was established at Paris, 
 and the whole workmen in iron and jewellery 
 pressed into its service. It soon became capable 
 of sending forth a thousand muskets a day. To 
 such a length did the dictators carry their princi- 
 ple of managing everything of their own au- 
 thority, that they compelled a return of the whole 
 subsistence in exery part of the country^ and en- 
 deavoured to purchase it all, and distribute it 
 either to the armies, or at a low price to the im- 
 perious citizens of the towns. t 
 
 This .system of forced requisitions gave the 
 government the command of a large of grain, 
 proportion of the agricultural produce horses, and 
 of the kingdom, and it was enforced carnages, 
 with merciless severity. Not only grain, but 
 horses, carriages, and conveyances of every sort 
 were forcibly taken from the cultivators; and as 
 the payment they received was merely in assig- 
 nats, it in truth amoxmted to nothing. These 
 exactions excited the most violent discontent, 
 but no one ventured to give it vent ; to have ex- 
 pressed dissatisfaction would immediately have 
 led to a denunciation at the nearest Revolution- 
 ary committee, and put the complainer in immi- 
 nent hazard of his life. To complete the bur- 
 den, the Democratic power, incessant clamour, 
 and destitute situation of the people in the great 
 towns, rendered it indispensable to adopt some 
 general mea.sures for their relief; and the only 
 method which was found efl^ectual was to put 
 the great cities on the same footing with the ar- 
 mies, and give the agents of government the 
 right of making forced requisitions for their 
 support.: 
 
 The maintenance of such immense bodies of 
 men soon came to be of itself equal pui.ijp ^bbe- 
 to the whole administration of an ry for support 
 ordinary' government. A board was of populace of 
 appointed of five directors, who soon cities, 
 had ten thousand persons in their dail}'^ pay, in- 
 cessantly occupied in enforcing these requisi- 
 tions for the support of the great cities. That of 
 
 * Th., v., 161. Hist, de la Conv.. iv., 81, 82. 
 
 t Th., v., 183, 188. Hist, de la Conv., iii., 237, 245. 
 
 X Th., vii., 41. 
 
ilM.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 315 
 
 Paris was of itself an army. No less than 
 ti!J(3,(X)0 persons daily received rations at the 
 public oiiices, amounting to eighteen hundred 
 and ninety-seven sacks of meal ; and the atten- 
 tion of government was incessantly directed to- 
 Avards keeping the citizens in good-humour by 
 regularity in their distribution. The los.ses sus- 
 tained by the agriculturists in providing for this 
 daily consumption was enormous : the cost of 
 producing their grain had augmented tenfold by 
 the depreciation of paper, and yet they were only 
 
 f)aid the former price by the requisitionists. The 
 armers were obliged to pay ten francs a day to 
 their labourers instead of one franc, as in 1790, 
 and everything else in the same proportion ; yet 
 they were compelled to part with their grain, at 
 the price fixed by the maximum, to the imperious 
 and needy multitudes in the towns. In other 
 words, nine tenths of the subsistence daily con- 
 sumed in Paris was extorted withmit 'paymenl 
 from the cultivators in the countiy, and the cries 
 of the suffei'ers stifled by the prospect of the guil- 
 lotine: a striking instance of the grinding op- 
 pression exercised even over their own class by 
 the sovereign multitude when they once obtain 
 the ascendency, and the state of subjection to 
 which, in the progress of revolutions, the inhab- 
 itants of the country invariably fall to the citi- 
 zens of towns.* 
 
 The necessity of feeding the sovereign multi- 
 The immense ^^'^^ entailed Other expenses of a 
 burden it eii- more serious kind on the conven- 
 taiied on the tion, and constituted a large pait of 
 state. their never-ending financial embar- 
 
 rassments. Government bought grain from for- 
 eigners for twent3^-one francs the quintal, and 
 retailed it to the populace for fourteen ; the ces- 
 sation of agricultural labour in a great part of 
 the country rendered it indispensable to cany on 
 this ruinous commerce to a great extent, and the 
 losses thence accruing to the state were stated by 
 Cambon as enormous. The expense of feeding 
 the inhabitants of Paris soon became almost as 
 great as maintaining its fourteen armies. The 
 convention introduced the ruinous S3'stem of 
 distributing every day, to every citizen of Paris, 
 a pound of bread a day, at the price of three sous 
 in assignats: a burden which, from the fall in 
 the value of paper, soon became almost as great 
 as that of supporting them altogether.t 
 
 At the commencement of the Reign of Terror, 
 Forced loans the government adopted the plan of a 
 from the op 11- forced loan from the opulent classes, 
 lent classes. This tax was imposed on an ascend- 
 ing scale, increasing according to the fortunes of 
 the individuals; and out of an income of 50,000 
 francs, or about i:-2000 a year, they took, in 1792, 
 36,000 francs, or about i;i600. This immense 
 burden was calculated as likelv to produce at 
 once a milliard of francs, or X40,()00,000 sterling, 
 and as a security for this advance, the persons 
 taxed received assignats, or were inscribed as 
 public creditors on the grandc livrc of the French 
 funds : a security, in either case, depending en- 
 tirely on the success of the Revolution, and 
 ■which proved, in the end, almost elusory.: 
 
 The public creditors of eveiy description con- 
 Confusion of tinned to be paid in assignats at par, 
 the old and notwithstanding their having fallen to 
 I^cvolutiou- a tenth of their nominal value ; in 
 arydebt. _^ other words, they received only a tenth 
 part of what was really due to them. To per- 
 
 * Th., vii., 233, 237. Hist, de la Conv., iii., 180, 240. 
 
 t Th., vii., 137. Lac, xiii., 42. 
 
 ;; Hist, de la Conv., in., 250, 300. Th., vii., 203. 
 
 petuate still farther the dcpendance of the public 
 creditors of every description on the fonunes of 
 the Revolution, the plan was projected by Cam- 
 bon, and adopted by the convention, of compelling 
 all holders of stock to surrender to government 
 their titles to it, and in lieu of every other written 
 right, they were merely inscribed on the grande 
 I'.vrc of the French debt, and an extract of that 
 inscription constituted thereafter the sole title of 
 the proprietor. Most severe laws were enacted 
 to compel the surrender of the older titles to the 
 stock, which were immediately burned, and if a 
 year elapsed without this being done, the capital 
 was lbrl(?ited. All the capital sums owing by 
 the state were converted into perpetual annuities, 
 at the rate of five per cent., so that a stock of 
 1000 francs was inscribed in the book for a per- 
 petual annuity of 50 francs, and government for- 
 ever relieved of the burden of discharging the 
 principal sums. " In this manner," said Cam- 
 bon, " the debt contracted by despotism becomes 
 indistinguishable from that contracted since the 
 Revolution ; and I defy despotic power, should 
 it ever revive, to distinguish its ancient creditors 
 from those of the new regime. As soon as this 
 operation is completed, you will see the capital- 
 ist who now desires the restoration of a king, be- 
 cause he has a king for a debtor, and who fears 
 that he will lose his fortune if he is not re-estab- 
 lished, desire equally vehemently the preserva- 
 tion of the Republic, when his private interests 
 are irrecoverably wound up in its preservation."* 
 The whole creditors, both royal and Republican, 
 were paid only in assignats, which progressivelv 
 fell to a fifth, a tenth, a hundredth, and at last, in 
 1797, to a two hundred and fiftieth part of their 
 nominal value ; so that in the space of a few 
 years the payment was entirely elusoiT, and a 
 national bankraptcy had in fact existed many 
 years before it was formally declared by the 
 Directory. 
 
 All the measures of government, how vigor- 
 ous and despotic soever, proved inade- Continued 
 quale to su.stain the falling value of fall of the 
 the assignats, or keep down the price assignats. 
 of provisions, or articles of daily consumption. 
 To eflfect the object, they had recourse to new 
 and still more oppressive regulations. To de- 
 stroy the competition of rival companies, which 
 prevented the direction of capital towards the 
 purchase of the national domains, they abolished, 
 by decree, all life insurance societies, and all 
 companies of every description, of which the 
 shares were transferable from hand to hand ; 
 they declared traitors to their country all those 
 who placed their funds in any investments in 
 countries with which the Republic was at war; 
 and condemned to twenty years of irons every 
 person convicted of refusing payment of any debt 
 in assignats, or entering into any transaction in 
 which they were received at less than their nom- 
 inal value. They ordered that the bells of the 
 churches should ever}-where be melted down into 
 sous pieces, to answer the immediate wants of 
 the peasantrj' ; and passed a decree, which ranked 
 forestalling with capital crimes, and punished it 
 with death. By this last law, it was g^^^^.^ j^^^ 
 declared that every one wa.s to be as^ainst fore- 
 considered as a forestaller who with- stallers and 
 drew from circulation merchandise of ^^^ public 
 primaiy necessity, without immedi- '''"^P^'^'es- 
 atelv exposing them to public sale. The articles 
 declared to be of primary necessity were bread, 
 
 t Th., v., 147, 191, 193. ffist. de la Conv., 290-319. 
 
316 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XT. 
 
 ■wine, butchers' meat, grain, oats, vegetables, 
 fruits, coal, wood, butter, cheese, linen, cotton 
 Ktuli's, and dress of every description except silks. 
 To carry into execution this iniquitous decree, 
 the most inquisitorial powers were conferred on 
 the commissaries named by the commune. Ev- 
 eiy merchant was oblii^cd, at their summons, 
 to give a statement of the goods contained in his 
 ■warehouses; these declarations were liable to be 
 checked at any hour by domiciliary visits, and 
 any fraud or concealment was declared punish- 
 able with death. Commissioners, appointed by 
 the communes, were authorized to fix the price 
 at which all these articles were to be sold ; and 
 if tlie necessary cost of the manufacture was such 
 as to render the price beyond the reach of the 
 people, they were still to be exposed to sale at 
 .such a reduced price as might bring them within 
 their means:* an atrocious edict, pressing with 
 unparalleled severity upon the industrious class- 
 es, merely to gratify the needy and clamorous 
 multitude on whom the government depended, 
 and which, if it had subsisted long in force, 
 would have destroyed all the industry of France, 
 and handed over the people to the unmitigated 
 horrors of actual famine. 
 
 These extravagant measures had not been 
 
 many months in operation before 
 
 Direful effects ^^j^ produced the most disastrous 
 
 of these laws. ,^ -^ , ^ , . .. .- ,, 
 
 effects. A great proportion ol the 
 shops in Paris and all the principal towns were 
 shut ; business of every sort was at a stand ; the 
 laws of the maximum and against forestallers had 
 spread terror and distrust as much among the 
 middling classes, who had commenced the Revo- 
 lution, as the guillotine had among nobles and 
 priests, who had been its earliest victims. The 
 retail dealers, who had purchased their stock 
 from the wholesale merchants before the 7iw.zi- 
 mum, and at a price higher than that allowed by 
 the new tariff, were compelled, by the terror of 
 death, to sell at a loss to themselves, and saw 
 their fortunes gradually melting away in their 
 daily transactions. Even those who had laid in 
 their stock after the imposition of the m-aximum 
 were in no better situation, for that regulation 
 had only fixed their price when retailed to the 
 public; but as it had not fixed the price at which 
 the previous manufacture was to be accom- 
 plished, nor the necessary transport and storing 
 it in their warehouses effected, and as their 
 operations were necessarily paid in proportion 
 10 the depreciated value of the currenc}', the 
 subsequent sale at the prices fixed by the maxi- 
 7H7CTn entailed niinous losses on the tradesmen. 
 The consequence was, that the greater part of the 
 shops were everywhere closed, and those who 
 continued to do business did so only by fraud ; 
 the worst articles alone exposed to sale at the 
 legal price, and the best reserved for those who 
 were willing in secret to pay their real value.t 
 
 The people, who perceived these frauds, and 
 Excessive vio- wimessed the closing of so great a 
 letice of the number of shops, were transported 
 people from the with furj', and besieged the conven- 
 nse of prices, ^jqjj ^yjfh the most violent petitions, 
 insisting that the dealers should be compelled to 
 reopen their shops, and continue to sell as usu- 
 al, in spite of any loss they might sustain. They 
 denounced the butchers, who were accused of 
 selling unwholesome meat ; the bakers, who fur- 
 nished coarse bread for the poor, and fine for the 
 rich ; the wine-merchants, who diluted their li- 
 
 quors by the most noxious drugs; the salt-mer- 
 cliants, the grocers, the confectioners, who con- 
 spired together to adulterate the articles in which 
 they dealt in a thousand different ways. Chau- 
 mette, the procureur-general, supported their de- 
 mands in a violent speech. " We .sympathize," 
 said he, " with the evils of the people, because 
 we are the people ourselves: the whole council 
 is composed ol Sans Culottes : it is the sover- 
 eign multitude. We care not though our heads 
 fall, provided posterity will deign to collect our 
 sculls. It is not the Gospel which I invoke — it 
 is Plato. He that strikes with the sword should 
 be struck with the sword ; he that strikes with 
 poison should be struck with poison; he that 
 famishes the people should die of famine. If 
 subsistence and articles of merchandise are 
 wanting, from whom shall the people seize 
 them 1 From the convention 1 No. From the 
 constituted authorities'? No. They will take 
 them from the shopkeepers and merchants. It is 
 arms, and not gold, which is wanted to set in mo- 
 tion our manufactories: the world 
 must know that the giant people can *^'^'" ^'*' ''®'" 
 crush all its mercantile speculations. Rousseau 
 has said, when the people have nothing to eat, 
 they will eat the rich."* 
 
 Intimidated by such formidable petitioners, 
 the assembly and the municipality Kenewedmeas- 
 adopted still more rigorous meas- ures of seventy 
 ures. Hitherto they had only fix- by the munici- 
 ed the price of articles of necessity P'^'''/ ; 
 in a manufactured state, now they resolved to 
 fix the price of the raw material ; and the idea 
 was even entertained of seizing the material and 
 the Avorkmen alike for the service of the slate,, 
 and converting all France into one vast manu- 
 factory in the employment of government. The 
 communes declared that every merchant who 
 had been engaged in business for above a year, 
 who either abandoned or diminished it, should 
 be sent to prison as a suspected person ; the pri- 
 ces which the merchant could exact from the re- 
 tailer, and the retailer from the customer, were 
 minutely fixed; the Revolutionary committees 
 were alone permitted to issue tickets, authori- 
 zing purchases of any sort ; one species of bread, 
 of coarse quality, was only allowed to be baked -^ 
 and to prevent the scandalous scenes which dai- 
 ly occurred at the bakers' shops, where a num- 
 ber of the poor passed a part of the night with 
 the cord in their hands, it was enacted that the 
 distribution should commence with the last ar- 
 rived ; a regulation which only changed the di- 
 rection of the tumult. These regulations were 
 speedily adopted from the municipality of Paris 
 over all France. t 
 
 The convention adopted the still more hazard- 
 ous step of fixing the prime cost of all 
 articles of rude produce. The price ^"'t^nUo,! 
 was fixed on the basis of the prices of 
 1790, augmented by certain fixed rates for the 
 profit of the difterent hands through which they 
 passed before reaching the consumer. To carry 
 into execution the numerous regulations on this- 
 subject, a commission of subsistence and provis- 
 ioning was appointed, with abso- Establishment 
 lute powers, extending over all oftheCommit- 
 France ; it was charged with the ex- tee of Subsist- 
 ecution of the tariffs, with the super- ''"^^' 
 intendence of the conduct of the mimicipalities 
 in that particular; with continually receiving 
 
 * Th., T., 204-20T. 
 
 t Th., v., 399, 400. 
 
 * Th., v., 403. Hist, de la Conv., iii., 409, 437. 
 t Th., v., 404, 405. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 317 
 
 statements of the quantity of subsistence in the 
 country, and the places where it existed; with 
 traiisporlinij it from one quarter to another, and 
 providing,' lor the subsistence of the armies, and 
 the furnisliingthem with the means of transport.* 
 
 Speculation of every sort, even the gambling 
 of the Bourse, was, towards the close of the 
 Reign of Terror, almost destroyed. The bank- 
 ers and merchants, accused on all sides of ele- 
 vating prices, and seeing some of their num- 
 ber daily led out to the scaflbld, deserted the ex- 
 change, and sought for an asylum in the solitude 
 of their homes. The company of the Indies, the 
 last existing mercantile establishment, was abol- 
 ished: government resolved to have no invest- 
 ment for capital but the purchase of the national 
 domains.t; 
 
 ]\or was it only on the opulent classes that 
 Grinding ihe Revolutionary enactments pressed 
 oppression with severity; they were equally op- 
 of the poor, pressive to the poorest. Never, in 
 truth, were the labouring poor subjected to so 
 
 * Th., v., 405, 40fi. t Th., v., 409, 410. 
 
 t The jirt-ceding details, all taken from the Republican 
 •writers of France, demonstrate that the picture drawn by a 
 contemporary writer was not overcharged ; and that the ge- 
 nius of Mr. Burke had justly discerned, through the funics of 
 .Democracy, the galling bondage it was inflicting on mankind. 
 *' The state of France," says he, " is perfectly simple. It 
 consists of but two descriptions, the oppressors and the op- 
 pressed. 
 
 " The first has the whole authority of the state in their 
 hands ; all the arms, aU the revenues of the public, all the 
 confiscations of individuals and corporations. They liave 
 taken the lower sort from their occupatiouo, aiA h^tvc ^lui 
 them into pay, that they may form them into a l>ody of jan- 
 izaries to overrule and awe property. The heads of these 
 ■wretches they never suffered to cool. They supply them 
 ■with a food for fury varied by the day, besides the sensual 
 state of intoxication from which they are rarely free. They 
 have made the priests and people formally abjure the Divin- 
 ity ; they have estranged them from every civil, moral, and 
 social, or even natural and instinctive sentiment, habit, and 
 practice, and have rendered them systematically savages, to 
 make it impossible for them to be the instruments of any so- 
 ber and virtuous arrangement, or to be reconciled to any 
 state of order, under any name whatsoever. 
 
 " The other description — the oppressed — are people of 
 some property ; they arc the small relics of the persecuted 
 landed interest ; tliey are the burghers and the farmers. I5v 
 the very circumstance of their being of some property, though 
 numerous in some points of view, they cannot be very con- 
 siderable as a number. In cities, the nature of their occupa- 
 tions renders them domestic and feeble ; in the country, it 
 confines them to their farm for subsistence. The National 
 Guards are all changed and reformed. Everything suspi- 
 cious in the description of which they were composed is rig- 
 orously disarmed. Committees, called of vigilance .and safe- 
 ty, are everywhere formed ; a most severe and scrutinizing 
 inquisition, far more rigid than anything ever known or ima- 
 gined. Two persons cannot meet and confer without haz- 
 ard to their liberty, and even to their lives. Numbers scarce- 
 ly credible have been executed, and their property confis- 
 cated.. At Paris, and in most other towns, the bread they 
 buy is a daily dole, which they cannot obtaia without a dai- 
 ly ticket delivered to them by tlieir masters. Multitudes of 
 all ages and sexes are actually imprisoned. 1 liave reason 
 to believe, that in France there are not, for various state 
 crimes, so fL>w as twenty thousand actually in jail — a large 
 pro|K)rtion of jieople of property in any state. If a father of 
 a family should show any disposition to resist, or to with- 
 draw himself from their power, his wife and children are 
 cruelly to answer for it. It is by means of these hostages 
 that they keep the troops, which they force by masses (as 
 they call it) into the field, true to their colours. 
 
 " Another of their resources is not to be forgotten. They 
 have lately found a way of giving a sort of ubiquity to the 
 supreme sovereign authority, which no monarch has been 
 able yet to give to any representation of his. 
 
 " The commissioners of the National Convention, -who are 
 the members of the convention itself, and really exercise all 
 its powers, make continual circuits through eveiy province, 
 and visits to every army. There they supersede all the or- 
 <iinary authorities, civil and military, and change and alter 
 everything at their pleasure ; so that, in effect, no deliber- 
 ative capacity exists in any portion of the inhabitants." — 
 Burke on the Policy of the Allies : Works, vii., 135. 
 
 many and such vexations restraints, or obedi- 
 ence to them enforced by such numerous and 
 sanguinary punishments. No one ventured to 
 indulge in any luxury, or abandon himself to 
 any gratification; metallic currency had almost 
 disappeared, and the poor received their wages 
 merely in paper currency, with which they were 
 unable to purchase the necessaries of life. If 
 tiiey were shopkeepers, they were compelled to 
 sell at a fictitious price ; if they were purchasers, 
 they were under the necessity of buying the most 
 wretched articles, because the best were with- 
 drawn by the etfect of the forced sales enjoined 
 by government. Only one kind oi' bread, of the 
 blackest and coarsest kind, was to be had, and 
 that could be obtained in no other way but by re- 
 ceiving tickets from the Revolutionary commit- 
 tees, by waiting half the night, or for hours du- 
 ring the day, at the doors of the ba- „ ,. .. 
 , '^ ... -" • ,1 ■ 1 1 Equalization 
 
 kers, with a rope in their hands, ofweigiitsand 
 The names of the weights and meas- mrasures, and 
 ures, of the days and months, were <iecimai nota- 
 changed ; the labouring poor had '^'''°" 
 only three Sundays in the month instead of four; 
 the consolations of religion, the worship of the 
 Deity, were at an end.* 
 
 All the eflbrts of the Committee of Public 
 Safety, after some time, became insuf- -p 
 ficient to procure an adequate supply and deplo- 
 of subsistence. Commerce escaped the rablecondi- 
 ruinous law of the maximum, and it t'°" "^ ^^^ 
 escaped it in the most disastrous of P™"^' 
 all ways, by a total cessation. Want of the se- 
 verest Kind was experienced in every branch of 
 human consumption; the ordinary supplies of 
 butcher-meat failed, and as it could still be pub- 
 licly sold only at the m-ax'amivi, the butchers ex- 
 posed only the most unwholesome kind of food, 
 and reserved that of the better sort for clandestine 
 sale. The evil soon extended to other articles : 
 vegetables, fruits, eggs, butter, and fish, disap- 
 peared from the markets. Bands of persons trav- 
 elled far on the high roads, and met them as they 
 were approaching Paris, where they were clan- 
 destinely purchased at prices far above the raax- 
 mum, for the use of the opulent classes. The 
 people were animated with the mo.st violent in- 
 dignation at these practices, and, to put a stop to 
 them, the commune enacted that no butchers 
 should be permitted to go out to meet the cattle 
 on their way to the markets; that no meat should 
 be bought or sold but at the established stalls ; 
 and that no crowd should be allowed to collect 
 round the butchers' doors before six in the morn- 
 ing, instead of three, the time when they usually 
 began to asseml)le. These regulations, like all 
 the others, failed of efiect ; the crowds were just 
 as great and as clamorous round the butchers' 
 shops as before ; violent tumults constantly ro.se 
 among those who had got possession of the ropes 
 at their doors ; and, as a last resource, the gov- 
 ernment was preparing to lay out the gardens of 
 the Tuileries, of the Luxembourg, and of all the 
 opulent persons round Paris, in the cultivation 
 of garden stuffs. T 
 
 At length the evils arising from the maximum 
 became so excessive, that the inhab- people of Par- 
 itants of Paris were obliged to be isputonredu- 
 put on an allowance of animal food, ^ed rations. 
 The commission for provisions fixed the daily 
 consumption at 75 oxen, 150 quintals of mutton 
 and veal, and 200 hogs. All the animals intend- 
 ed for the consumption of the metropolis were 
 
 * Th., T., 435. 
 
 t Th., VI., 146, 151. 
 
318 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XY. 
 
 brought to a public market-place, where alone 
 meat was allowed to be sold; and the butchers 
 were only allowed to deliver every five days half 
 a pound of meat to each family for each head. 
 The same carks de sureti were issued b}' the 
 Revolutionary committees tor this scanty aid as 
 for the rations of bread. Siiortly after the sup- 
 ply of wood and charcoal was t^uund to fail, and 
 laws were passed preventing any one from hav- 
 ing in store more than a very limited quantity of 
 these necessary articles. As the embarrassment 
 Fresh arbitra- of the finances continued to be ex- 
 ry taxation of cessive, notvvitlistanding the issue of 
 the opulent, anotlier milliard, or X40,000,000 in 
 assiguats, recourse was had to a new forced exac- 
 tion from the rich. This consisted of 100,000,000 
 francs, or ^£4,000,000, which was levied upon 
 them without any obligation of reimbursement, 
 even in the depreciated paper of the Puepublic* 
 
 To complete the dependance of the debt on the 
 Conversion of Revolutionary government, Carabon 
 the life into Carried into effect, during the Reign 
 perpetual an- of Terror, a project for the conversion 
 nuitants. q^ j|^g numerous class of life-annui- 
 tants, who were public creditors, into holders of 
 a perpetual annuity. To accomplish this object, 
 a scale was adopted, by which, to the older class 
 of small life-annuitants under X80, and above 
 forty years of age, tlie annual income was pre- 
 served, and the conversion only enforced against 
 the excess of their annuity above this sum. This 
 modification of the law was some relief to the 
 most indigent class of the state aimuitants; but 
 still the conversion itself was a very great hard- 
 ship to a numerous class of persons, who had 
 sunk a small capital in order to procure a high 
 interest during the remainder of their life, as they 
 found themselves suddenly reduced to a half, and 
 in many cases to a fourth, of their former income ; 
 and so numerous was this class of life-annuitants 
 in France, and so tenacious are men of whatev- 
 er touches their pecuniaiy interests, in preference 
 to every other consideration, that there was no 
 measure at the time which excited such violent 
 discontent: and the convention were more blamed 
 for this retrenchment than for all the sanguinary 
 and terrible laws which had signalized tlieir ad- 
 ministration. t 
 
 Such was the state of the internal changes on 
 ■DO property produced by the Revolution, 
 
 thfsuccessive ^^'li^H the overthrow of Robespierre 
 destruction of arrested its course. Never before, 
 all cUisses by since the beginning of the world, 
 the Revolu- jj^^j gQ great an experiment been 
 '""■ made, and never had the disastrous 
 
 consequences of giving the reins to popular am- 
 bition been so fully exemplified. Begun to avert 
 the evils of national bankruptcy, instituted to 
 preserve the public credit, it terminated in the 
 most unheard-of disasters. It received at first 
 the unanimous support of the whole French na- 
 tion ; in its progress it destroyed all those whose 
 early aid had contributed to its advancement. 
 Tiie king supported it and perished; the nobles 
 supported it and perished; the clergy supported 
 it and perished ; the merchants supported it and 
 perished; the public creditors supported it and 
 perished ; the shopkeepers supported it and per- 
 ished; the artisans supported it and perished; 
 the peasants supported it and perished. The no- 
 bles, whose passion for innovation and misguided 
 declamations in favour of equality had first led 
 to the convocation of the States-General, who 
 
 Th.,vi.,310,314. 
 
 t Th.,Ti., 315,316. 
 
 early set the example of submission to the popu- 
 lar will, and voluntarily abdicated their titles, 
 their privileges, and their rights, to place them- 
 selves at the head of the movement, were the 
 first to be destroyed. Decimated by tiie guillo- 
 tine, exiles from iheir countr}-, destitute wander- 
 ers in foreign lands, they beheld their estates con- 
 fiscated, their palaces sold, their children proscri- 
 bed, themselves undone. While by the waters 
 of Babylon they sat down and wept, they learn- 
 ed to lament the fatal precipitance with which 
 they had excited the ambition of their inferiors, 
 by yielding so precipitately to the public phren- 
 sy in favour of Democracy. The clergy, who 
 had proved themselves the earliest and steadiest 
 friends of freedom, whose junction with the Tiers 
 Etat in the hour of peril had first given them a 
 superiority over the privileged classes, and com- 
 pelled the ruinous union of all the orders in one 
 chamber, were utterly destroyed by the party 
 whom the}' had cherished : their religion was 
 abolished, theii' churches closed, their property 
 confiscated, themselves subjected to cruel ani 
 tyrannical enactments, compelled to wander in. 
 utter destitution in foreign lands, or purchase a 
 miserable pittance by violating their oaths, and 
 earning the contempt of all the faithful among 
 their flocks. The commercial classes, whose 
 jealousy of the unjust privileges of the noblesse 
 had first fostered the flame of liberty, were con- 
 sumed in the conflagration which it had raised ; 
 the once flourishing colonies of the monarchy 
 were in flames, its manufactunng cities in ruins, 
 its public wealth destroyed, its sails banished 
 from the ocean, its naval establishments in de- 
 cay. Blasted by a niinous sy.stem of paper cur- 
 rency, and crushed in the grasp of a relentless 
 despotism, manufactimng industry was withered, 
 and commercial capital annihilated. The pub- 
 lic creditors, once so loud in their praises of the 
 first movements of the Revolution, whose enthu- 
 siasm had raised the public funds thirty per cent. 
 in one day, when Neckar was restored to power 
 in 1788, on the shoulders of the democracy, were 
 now crushed beneath its wheels ; the once opulent 
 capitalists, ruined by the fall of the public secu- 
 rities, deprived of their property by a fictitious 
 paper, paid by their debtors in a nominal curren- 
 cy, had long since sunk to the dust; while the 
 miserable rentiers, cheated out of ahiiost all their 
 income by the payment of their annuities in as- 
 signats, were wandering about in utter despair, 
 supporting a miserable existence by charity, or 
 terminating it by acts of suicide. The shopkeep- 
 ers, whose unanimous shouts had so long sup- 
 ported the Constituent Assembly, whose bayo- 
 nets had first upheld the fortunes of the Revolu- 
 tion, at last tasted its bitter fruits ; as its move- 
 ment advanced, and they became the objects of 
 jealousy to still lower ambition, the furj' of ple- 
 beian revenge was directed against their ranks; 
 insensibly they melted away under the axe of the 
 guillotine, or were destroyed by the law of the 
 maximum., and lamented with unavailing tears 
 the convulsions which had deprived them at once 
 of the purchasers of their commodities, the secu- 
 rity for their property, and the free disposal of 
 their industry. The artisans, who had expected 
 a flood of pi'osperity from the regeneration of so- 
 ciety, whose pikes had so often, at Jacobin com- 
 mand, issued from the fauxbourgs to overawe 
 the legislature, were speedily steeped in miseiy 
 from the consequences of their actions ; impatient 
 of restraint, unable to endure a superior, they 
 were at last subjected to the most galling bond- 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 319 
 
 age ; destitute of employment, fed only by the 
 bounty of gov-ernment, they were fettered in eve- 
 ry action of their lives; debarred the power of 
 purchasing even the necessaries of lil'e for them- 
 selves, they were forced hrst to wait half the day 
 as needy suppliants at the otfices of the commit- 
 tees who issued their tickets, and then to watch 
 half the night round the bakers' shops to procure 
 the wretched pittance of a pound of black bread 
 a day for each member of their families. The 
 peasants expected an immediate deliverance from 
 tithes, taxes, and burdens of every description, 
 from the consequences of their emancipation, and 
 they found themselves ground down by the law 
 of the maximum, forced to sell at nominal prices 
 to the purveyors for the armies, and fettered in 
 every action of their lives by oppressive regula- 
 tions; they saw their sons perish in the field or 
 rot in the hospitals, their horses and cattle seized 
 for the forced requisitions, and the produce of 
 their labour toni from them by battalions of armed 
 men, to maintain an indigent and worthless rab- 
 ble in the great cities of the Republic. 
 
 Consequences so extraordinary, so unlooked- 
 But it neces- for to every class of society, from the 
 sarily results throne to the cottage, are singularly 
 from the de- instructive as to the consequences 
 The Su of revolutions. But yet, if the mat- 
 tiouary pas- ter be considered dispassionately, it 
 sion. is evident that they must in every 
 
 age attend any considerable convulsion in so- 
 ciety. When a tree is felled, it is the leaves 
 and the extremities which first begin to wither, 
 because they are soonest affected by a stoppage 
 in the supplies by which the whole is nourished: 
 it is the same with society. Upon the occurrence 
 of a revolution, the working classes are the first 
 to sufi^er, because they have no stock to maintain 
 themselves during a period of adversity, and, be- 
 ing wholly dependant on the daily wages of la- 
 bour, are the earliest victims of the catastrophe 
 which has inteiTupted them. 
 
 It is this immediate elTect of a revolution in 
 spreading misery through the working classes, 
 which, in the general case, renders its inarch ir- 
 resistible, when not arrested in the outset by a 
 firm combination of all the holders of property, 
 and precipitates society into a series of convul- 
 sions, from which it can hardly emerge without 
 the destruction of the existing generation. The 
 shock given to credit, the stoppage to specula- 
 tion, the contraction to expenditure, is so excess- 
 ive, that the lower orders are immediately in- 
 volved in distress ; and the same causes which 
 increase their discontent, and augment their dis- 
 position to revolt, disable government, by the 
 rapid fall of the revenue, either from adminis- 
 tering relief or exerting force. The conse- 
 quence is, that fresh insurrections take place ; 
 more extravagant and levelling doctrines become 
 popular ; a lower but more energetic class rises 
 to the head of affairs ; desperate measures of 
 finance are adopted, the public expenditure is 
 increased, while the national income is dimin- 
 ished; and, after a succession of vain attempts 
 to avoid the catastrophe, national bankruptcy 
 lakes place, and the accumulations of ages are 
 swept off in a general, public, and private in- 
 solvency. 
 
 The different steps of this disastrous but una- 
 Successive voidable progress are clearly marked 
 steps of its in the successive stages of the French 
 disastrous Revolution. Within six months after 
 progress. ^^^ Revolution broke out, it was dis- 
 covercxi that the revenue had fallen, in conse- 
 
 quence of the general uncertainty of the future, 
 liom £24,000,000 a year to £17,000.000, and that 
 at the very time when the embarrassment of the 
 finances had been the principal cause of the con- 
 vocation of the States-General. No resource 
 could be found to meet the pressing difhciillies 
 of the exchequer but the confiscation of the 
 property of the Church, and subsequently that 
 of the emigrant nobles. These measures agaia 
 engendered evils which tended to perpetuate the 
 difiiculties from which they sprung ; the confis- 
 cation of the Church property rendered necessa- 
 ry the laws against the refractory i^esistible 
 priests, and thereby lighted the flames power wiiich 
 of civil war in La Vendee, while made the one 
 the severe enactments against the ^'^^ ^° the 
 emigrant nobles produced a war of "' 
 life and death with the aristocratic monarchs in 
 Europe. Pressed by civil war within, and the 
 forces of Europe without, the convention found 
 themselves compelled to have recourse to the 
 system of assignats, and carried on the enormous 
 expenditure of a hundred and seventy millions 
 sterling a year by dispensing with a prodigal 
 hand the confiscated wealth of more than half of 
 France. The prodigious issue of paper neces- 
 sarily led to its rapid depreciation ; all obliga- 
 tions of debt and credit were overturned by the 
 necessity of accepting payment in a nominal 
 currency ; the rapid rise of the price of provis- 
 ions compelled the government to adopt a 'max- 
 imum, and interfere with the arm of force in the 
 care of public subsistence. Thence the forced 
 requisitions, the compulsory sales, the distribu- 
 tion of rations, and all the innumerable tyraimi- 
 cal regulations which fettered industry' in every 
 department ; and at length, by exciting the pas- 
 sions of the people against each other, biought 
 down, even to the humblest class, the horrors 
 which they had originally inflicted on their su- 
 periors. 
 
 Such a survey of the consequence of humaii 
 violence both vindicates the justice of Provi- 
 dence, by demonstrating how rapidly and una- 
 voidably the guilt of every class in society brings 
 upon itself its own punishment, and tends to 
 make us judge charitably of the conduct of men 
 placed in such a terrible crisis of society. 
 Harshly as we may think of the atrocities of the 
 Revolution, let no man be sure that, placed in 
 similar circumstances, he would not have been 
 betrayed into the same excesses. It is the in- 
 sensible gradation in violence ; the experienced 
 necessity of advancing with the tide, which ren- 
 ders such convulsions so perilous to the morals 
 as well as the welfare of nations. The authors 
 of many of the worst measures in the Revolu- 
 tion were restored to private life as innocent and 
 inoffensive as other men ; the most atrocious vi- 
 olations of right had been so long foreseen and 
 discus.sed, that their occurrence produced little 
 or no sensation. " Of all the lessons derived 
 from the history of human passion," sa3's Lava- 
 lette, " the most important is the utter impossi- 
 bility which the best men will always experi- 
 ence of stopping, if they are once led into the 
 path of error. If, a few years before they were 
 perpetrated, the crimes of the Revolution could 
 have been portrayed to those who aftenvard 
 committed them, even Robespierre himself would 
 have recoiled with horror. Men are seduced, in 
 the first instance, by plausible theories ; their 
 heated imaginations represent them as beneficial 
 and easy of execution ; they advance uncon- 
 sciously from errors to faults, and from faults to 
 
320 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap XV. 
 
 crimes, till sensibility is destroyed by the specta- 
 ■cle of guilt, and the most savage atrocities are 
 dignilied by the name oi' state policy."* Such 
 always will be the case ; it is the pressure ol" 
 external circumstances which ultimately piodu- 
 ces guilt, as much as guilt which attirst induces 
 the diihcullies of public affairs. The leaders of 
 a revolution are constantly advancing before the 
 fire which they themselves have lighted ; the mo- 
 ment they stop, they are consumed in the flames. 
 The progressive destruction of all classes du- 
 ring those melancholy years, and the success- 
 ive elevation of one faction more guilty and ex- 
 Jravaganl than another to the head of affairs, 
 has given rise to a general opinion among the 
 French Republican writers that there is a fatal- 
 ity in the march of revolutions, and that an in- 
 vincible necessity drives the actors in those tem- 
 pestuous scenes into deeds of bloodshed and 
 cruelty. In truth, there is a necessity under 
 which they act; but it is not the blind impulse 
 cf fatality, but the moral law of Nature, destined 
 to provide for the expulsion from society of pas- 
 sions inconsistent with its existence. Experience 
 in every age has abundantly proved that the fer- 
 vour of Democracy is fatal to the best interests 
 of mankind, and rapidly leads to the greatest 
 miseries to all classes, because it subjects society 
 to the guidance of those who are least qualified 
 to direct it ; but yet that it is, of all passions, the 
 most difficult to eradicate from the human heart, 
 and that, when once it is generally dilfused, whole 
 generations of political fanatics must be destroyed 
 before it can be reduced to a degree consistent 
 with the existence of order. Ages might elapse, 
 therefore, during the contest with this devouring 
 principle, were it not that in its very nature it 
 involves the cau.ses of its speedy destruction. 
 The successive ambition and passions of the 
 different bodies who rise to eminence, soon oc- 
 casion that frightful eff'usion of blood, or those' 
 wild and anarchical measures, which, by involv- 
 ing whole classes in destraction, necessaxily lead, 
 though by a painful process, to a restoration of 
 the natural order of society. This is the great 
 
 * Lavalette, i., 178. 1 
 
 moral to be derived from the history of the French 
 Revolution; this it is which in every age has 
 made Democratic madness terminate in military 
 despotism. In nations, as well as individuals, 
 Providence has a sure method of dealing with 
 the passions and sins of men, which is to leave 
 them to the consequences of their own extrava- 
 gance. 
 
 Even under circumstances, however, in ap- 
 pearance the most adverse, the laws of Nature 
 provide an antidote to the greatest evils which 
 afflict society. The march ol Democracy, though 
 not prevented by the wisdom of man, is speedily 
 sto])ped by the laws of Nature. The people, in 
 the end, learn from their own suffering, if they 
 will not from the experience of others, that the 
 gift of unbounded political power is fatal to those 
 who receive it; that despotism may flow from 
 the workshop of the artisan as well as the palace 
 of the sovereign ; and that those who, yielding 
 to the wiles of the tempter, will cat of the forbid- 
 den fruit, must be driven from the joys of Para- 
 dise, to wander in the suffering oi' a guilty world. 
 Genius, long a stranger to the cause of order, re- 
 sumes its place by her side; she gives to a suf- 
 fering what she refused to a ruling cause. The 
 indignation of virtue, the satire of talent, comes 
 to be bestov/ed on the panders to popular gratifi- 
 cation; the sycophancy of journals, the baseness 
 of the press, the tyranny of the mob, employs the 
 pencil of the Tacitus who portrays the decline 
 and fall of the nation which has been torn by 
 such convulsions. It is this reaction of genius 
 against violence which steadies the march of 
 human events, and renders the miseries of one 
 age the source of elevation and instruction to 
 those which are to succeed it ; and whatever may 
 be the temporary ascendency of violence or an- 
 archy, there can be but one opinion as to the final 
 tendency of such changes to mankind, how fatal 
 soever they may be to the people among whom 
 they arise ; we can discern the rainbow of peace, 
 though not ourselves destined to reach the ark of 
 salvation, and look forward with confidence to 
 the future improvement of the species, from amid 
 the storm which is to subvert the monarchies of 
 Europe, 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 321 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CAM I'A ION OF 1794. 
 
 A U G U M E N T. 
 Military Strength and Naval Weakness of France, in Con- 
 sequence of llie Kevolution. — State of the lespeclivo Na- 
 vies of the Two Powers. — Suspension of the Habea.s Corpus 
 Act. — Treason Trials in Enghind and Seotlaiid. — Su)iplies 
 voted for the Year 1794, and Forces put on foot by (ireat 
 Britain. — British Conquests in the West Indies and in the 
 Mediterranean. — Great Naval Victory on the 1st of June, 
 by Lord Howe. — Tactics hy which tlie Victory was gained. 
 — Its great Moral Effect in England. — Vast Military Prep- 
 arations of France. — Talent with wliidi it was wielded. 
 — Forces of the Allies and of the French. — Plan of Allied 
 Campaign. — Landrecy taken.— Inelfectual Elforts of the 
 Kepublicans to raise the Siege. — Defeat of Clairfait. — 
 Jouidan ordered up from the ilhine to the Sambre with 
 forty-five thousand Men. — Various indecisive Actions on 
 the Sambre. — French at length driven over the lliver. — 
 Battle of Turcoin. — I'lchegru takes the Command in West 
 Flanders. — French indecisive Actions. — The F'rcnch again 
 cross the Sambre, invest Charleroi, and are driven across 
 the River again. — Anival of Jourdan with forty thousand 
 Men. — Sambre again cro,ssed, and Charleroi jeiiivcstcd. 
 — Separation of the Au.striaus and English. — Pichegru at- 
 tacks (Mairfait.— Imperialists assemble to succour Charle- 
 roi. — Battle of Fleurus. — Allies, though not defeated, 
 retreat. — Pichegru drives back Clairfait in West Flan- 
 ders. — Jourdan and Pichegru unite at Brussels. — English 
 retreat towards Holland. — Inactivity of the French. — 
 Becree of the Convention to give no Quarter : is not ex- 
 ecuted by the Generals. — Noble Proclamation by the Duke 
 of York. — Operations on the Rhine. — Inactivity of the 
 Prussians. — Operations in Piedmmit. — Mont Cenis is car- 
 ried by the French. — Great Successes of Najioleon and 
 Massena in the Maritime Aljis. — The Piedmontese arc 
 driven over the Ridgi^ of the Alps. — War in the Eastern 
 Pyrenees. — Gieat Ditilcultics of the Spaniards. — They are 
 totally defeated in their Lines by the French. — Collioiiie 
 taken. — Invasion of .Spain by tiie Western Pyrenees. — 
 Great Successes of the Republicans. — Siege of Belgrade, 
 which IS taken. — Great Defeat of the Spaniards near 
 Figueras. — Invasion of Biscay, and Defeat of the Span- 
 iards. — They sue for Peace. — Renewal of Hostilities in 
 Flanders.— British retire to the right Bank of the Mcusc. 
 — Battle of Ruremonde, and Defeat of the Auslrians. — 
 They cross the Rhine. — Active Pursuit of the English by 
 the Republicans. — British take a Position behind the 
 Waal. — Venloo is taken. — Siege of Nuneguen, which 
 also Falls.— Misunderstanding of the Dutch and English. 
 — Winter Campaign of Pichegru. — He makes a general 
 Attack on the Allied Position. — Walraoden retires to- 
 wards Hanover. — Dutch in vain sue for Peace.— French 
 cross the Waal. — Stadtholdcr embarks for England. — 
 Kevolution at Amsterdam, which admits the French 
 Troops. — Dutch Fleet cajitured by the French Cavalry. 
 — Violent Measures of Spoliation adopted by the French 
 towards the Dutch. — Concluding Operations on the Rhine. 
 — Army of the Moselle occupies Treves. — Allies driven 
 over the Rhine, and Maycnce invested. — Conclusion of 
 the Campaign in Savoy. — Renewal of the War in La Vcn- 
 tli'e. — Storming of Thurreau's intrenched Camps. — Rise 
 of the Chouan War. — Its vast Extent.— Immense Results 
 of the Campaign. — The prodigious Fortes of the Republic. 
 — Great Issues of A.ssignats to support the enormous Ex- 
 penditure of Government. — Progressive Increase of tlie 
 French Forces during the Camimign. — The period of Suc- 
 cess for the Allies was past. — (Jeneial Reilecticms on the 
 Campaign.— Great Militaiy Effect of the French frontier 
 Fortresses. 
 
 " The war," says Jomini, " so rashly provoked 
 by the declamations of the Girondists, was not 
 commenced in good earnest; and it was already 
 evident that all the established relations and liaj- 
 ance of power in Europe were to be dissolved in 
 the struggle. France and England had hardly 
 yet joined in mortal conflict, and vet it was easy 
 to foresee that the one was deslined to become 
 irresistible at land, and the other to acquire the 
 dominion of the seas."* 
 
 It was not the mere energy of the Revolution, 
 
 Vol. I.— S s 
 
 * Jom., v., 3. 
 
 nor the closing of all other avenues 
 of employment, which produced the M'li'M'y 
 fearful military power of France, ^avafweak-'' 
 These causes, while they alone were ness of France, 
 in operation, proved totally insufl^i- mconsequenr:* 
 cient to withstand the shock of the '^J^^^" l^evoiu- 
 disciplined armies of Germany. It 
 was the subsequent despotism of the Commitlee 
 of Public Satety which consolidated the other- 
 wise discordant materials of the Revolution, and, 
 by superinducing the terror of authority on ihe 
 fervour of freedom, favoured the growth of mili- 
 tary prowess. Liberty without discijiline M'ould 
 have perished in licentiousness; discipline with- 
 out spirit would have proved inadequate to the 
 struggle ; it was the combination of the two which 
 became so fatal to the European monarchies, 
 and by turning all the energies of France into 
 one regulated channel, converted the Reign of 
 Terror into the school of conquest. 
 
 But while these changes were in progress on 
 the Continent ol' Europe, a very different fate 
 awaited the naval armaments of France. Pow- 
 er at sea, unlike victory at land, cannot .spring 
 from mere suffering, or from the energy of des- 
 titute warriors with arms in their hands. Fleets 
 require nautical habits, comnrercial wealth, and 
 extensive credit; without an expenditure of ca}v 
 ital, and a gradual forniation of a nursoy of sea- 
 men, it is in vain lo contend with an established 
 power on that element. The destruction of the. 
 capital and commerce of France during the fury 
 of the Revolution, while it augmented, by the 
 misery it produced, the military, destroyed, by the 
 penury it occasioned, the naval resources of the 
 Republic. B(!tbre the linglish llcets had issued 
 from their harbours, the Hag of France had al- 
 ready disappeared irom the seas; commercial 
 wealth, jirivale enlerprise, were extinguished; 
 and the sanguinary government found that vic- 
 tories were not to be acquired at sea as conquest 
 at land, by merely forcing column aller column of 
 conscripts on board their vessels.* 
 
 The consequence was, that Irom the very first 
 the naval superiority of England be- Respective 
 came apparent. France, at the com- navies of the 
 mencement of the war, had seventy- i"'" powers, 
 five ships ol' the line and seventy frigates; but 
 the officers, chiefly ilraAvn from the aristocratical 
 classes, had in great part emigrated at the com- 
 mencement of the Revolution, and those of an 
 inferior order w"ho supplied their place were de- 
 ficient both in the education and experience 
 requisite in the naval service. On the other 
 hand, England had one hundred and twenty-nine 
 ships of the line, and above one hundred frigates, 
 of whom ninety of each class were immediately 
 put in commission, while seamen of the best 
 description, to the amount of eighty-five thou- 
 sand, were drawn from her inexhaustible mer- 
 chant service. Unable to face their enemies in 
 large squadrons, the French navy remained in 
 total inactivity; but their merchants, destitute 
 of any pacific employment for their money, fitted 
 out an immense number of privateers, which 
 
 ♦ Jom., v., 4. Th., vj., 271. 
 
322 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 for a considerable time, proved extremely inju- 
 rious to the British commerce* 
 
 The efforts of government at the same period 
 were vigorously directed to the suppression of 
 sedition in Great Britain. The great extent and 
 obvious danger of the illegal and Revolutionary 
 societies, which had been formed in every part 
 of England, in close alliance with the French 
 Convention, left no room for doubt that vigorous 
 measures were necessary to arrest the contagion. 
 Suspension of For this piu-pose, the suspension of 
 the Habeas , the Habeas Corpus Act was propo- 
 Corpus Act. sed in Parliament by government, 
 and excited the most angry discussions both in 
 the legislature and the nation. 
 
 Mr. Fox objected in the strongest manner to 
 the proposed measure, as destructive to the best 
 principles of English liberty. " Were the gov- 
 ernment about," he exclaiuied, '4n their rage at 
 the hatred excited by their tyranny, to erect tri- 
 bunals to punish the indignant public 1 Was 
 terror, as in France, to be made the order of the 
 day, and not a voice to be allowed to be lifted 
 against government 1 Was it resolved to demol- 
 ish the British Constitution, one part after anoth- 
 er, under pretence of preventing its destruction 
 by French principles 1 The object of the socie- 
 ties, which they did not scruple to avow, was to 
 obtain universal suffrage. The word convention 
 was now held up as an object of alarm, as if 
 fi-om it some calamity impended over the coun- 
 try ; and yet, what was a convention but an as- 
 sembly 1 If the people did anything illegal, they 
 ■were liable to be imprisoned and pimished at the 
 common law. Did it follow that, because im- 
 ,-. proper ideas of government had been taken up 
 'by the French, or because liberty had been there 
 abused, that similar misfortunes would befall 
 this country 1 Had that nation been protected 
 by a Habeas Corpus Act, had the government 
 been constrained by standing laws to respect the 
 rights of the community, these tenets would nev- 
 er have found an entrance into that unhappy 
 countr}\ By parity of reason, they were only to 
 be dreaded here if "the safeguards of the Consti- 
 tution were removed. Were the freedom of 
 meeting to complain of grievances to be taken 
 away, what would soon become of our boasted 
 Constitution 1 And if it is to be withdrawn till 
 the discontented are rooted out, or the thirst for 
 imcontrolled power assuaged in government, it 
 will never be restored, and the liberties of Eng- 
 lishmen are fmally destroyed." 
 
 On the other hand, it was contended by Mr. 
 Pitt that the question was, " Whether the dan- 
 gers threatened to the state were not greater than 
 any arising from the suspension proposed, which 
 was only to last for six months, and in the mean 
 time would not atiect the rights of any class of 
 society. The truth was, that we were driven to 
 <iie necessity' of imitating French violence, to re- 
 sist the contagion of French principles. Was 
 lenity to be admitted when the Constitution w^as 
 at stake 1 Were a convention upon Jacobin 
 principles once established, who could foresee 
 where it would end 1 Not to stop the progi-ess 
 of their opinions were no better than granting a 
 toleration to sedition and anarchy. It is in vain 
 , to deny the existence of designs against the gov- 
 ernment and Constitution; and what mode of 
 conibaring them can be so reasonable as the pres- 
 ent suspension, which does not oppose the right 
 
 of the people to meet together to petition for re- 
 form or a redress of abuses, but only aims at pre- 
 venting the establishment of a power in the state 
 superior to that of Parliament itself] The pa- 
 pers produced before the committee demonstrate 
 clearly that this is their object, and that they are 
 leagued with all the societies which have brought 
 desolation upon France; they have chosen a 
 central spot to facilitate the assembly of dema- 
 gogues trom all quarters. Every society has 
 been requested to transmit an account of its 
 numbers, and arms have been procured and lib- 
 erally distributed; unless these proceedings are 
 r speedily checked, the goveiTunent will soon be 
 set at naught, and a revolution, with all its hor- 
 rors, overspread the land." 
 
 Moved by these arguments, the House of Com- 
 mons passed the bill for suspension 
 by a majority of 261 to 42. It was ^^^^ ^^' ^"^■*- 
 adopted by tiie Lords without a division.* 
 
 Various prosecutions took place in Scotland, 
 and the attention of the people was Treason trials 
 deeply excited by the trial of Har- in England 
 dy, Thelwall, and Home Tooke for and Scotland, 
 treason in England. The documents on which 
 the prosecution was founded left no doubt that 
 these persons had been deeply implicated in de- 
 signs for the change, if not the subversion of the 
 government, by means of a convention of their 
 ovm formation, not the constitutional channel of 
 Parliament ; but their acquittal by the independ- 
 ent verdict of a British jury is to be regarded as 
 an eminently fortunate event at that period. Af- 
 ter so singular a triumph of popular principle, 
 the mo.st factious lost the power of alleging that 
 the liberties of England were on the decline; 
 satisfied with this great victory over their sup- 
 posed oppressors, the people relapsed into their 
 ancient habits of loyalty ; the spirit of innovation, 
 deprived of foreign support, and steadily resisted 
 by the government, rapidly withered in the Brit- 
 ish soil ; the passions of men, turned into anoth- 
 er channel, soon fixed on difierent objects, and 
 the prosecution of the war with France became 
 as great a source of interest to the multitude, as 
 it had ever been to remodel the Constitution af- 
 ter the example of the Constituent Assembly.t 
 
 The continuance of the war again gave rise to 
 animated debates in both hoirses of Parliament. 
 On the part of the opposition, it was urged by 
 Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan, "That the conduct 
 of government since the war commenced had 
 been a total departure from the principles of 
 moderation on which they had so much prided 
 themselves before it broke out. They then 
 used language which breathed only the strict- 
 est neutrality, and this continued even after the 
 king had been dethroned and many of the worst 
 atrocities of the Revolution had been perpetrated : 
 but now, even though we did not altogether re- 
 ject negotiation, we issued declarations evident- 
 ly calculated to render it impossible, and shake 
 all faith in our national integrity. The allies 
 had first, by Prince Cobourg, issued a proclama- 
 tion, in which they engaged to retain whatever 
 strongholds they might conquer merely in pledge 
 for Louis XVII., and five days afterward, to 
 their eternal disgrace, they had revoked that veiy 
 proclamation, and openly avowed the intention, 
 since uniformly acted upon, of making a method- 
 ical war of conquest on France. Supposing that 
 the English government should be able to clear 
 
 t New Ann. Registeij 1794, pp. 336-342. Jom., v., 278. 
 James, i., App. No. 6. 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1794, p., 268-274. Pari. Deb., xxxi., 274- 
 299. t Ann. Reg., 1794, 268, 269. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 323 
 
 itself of all share in this infamous transaction, 
 what was to be said of the declaration isssuedby 
 Lord Hood on the 23d of August, on the capture 
 of Toulon, wherein he took possession of the towTi 
 on the express conditions of maintaining the Con- 
 stitution of 1789, preserving the fleet of Louis 
 XVII., and protecting all Frenchmen who re- 
 paired to our standard ; alter which came a dark, 
 enigmaticaldeclarationfrom his majesty, which, 
 stripped of the elegant rubbish with which it 
 was loaded, amounted merely to this, that the 
 restoration of monarcliy was the only condition 
 on which Ave would treat with France. 
 
 " Has anything occurred to alter the probabil- 
 ity of success in the war 1 Have the triumphs 
 of the coalition in Flanders been so very brill- 
 iant, the success of Lord Moira's expedition so 
 decisive, the efforts at Toulon so victorious, as 
 to aflbrd more cheering prospects than were held 
 out at its commencement 1 Have the internal 
 condition of that country and the prospects of 
 the Royalist party improved so much under the 
 system of foreign attack, as to render it ad\asa- 
 hle to continue the contest for their sakes 1 Is 
 not the internal state of France so divided that it 
 is impossible to say that the Royalist party, even 
 in the districts most attached to monarchical 
 principles, could agree on any form of govern- 
 ment"? And what have we done to support 
 them 1 Liberated the garrisons of Valenciennes 
 and Mayence when they were shut up within 
 their walls, and given them the means, by the 
 absurd capitulation which we granted, of acting 
 with decisive eliect against their Royalist fel- 
 low-citizens in the west of France ! 
 
 " AH the treaties we have entered into con- 
 tained a clause by which the contracting paities 
 bound themselves not to lay down their arms 
 while any part of the territory of either of them 
 remained in the hands of the enemy. How have 
 they adhered, or are likely to adhere to this stip- 
 ulation 1 How has Prussia adhered 1 Why, 
 she publicly declared her intention of laying 
 down her arms at the very time when large parts 
 of her allies' territories were in the occupation of 
 the enemy, because she had discovered that the 
 war was burdensome. The emperor has refu- 
 sed to agree to the clause, and Prussia has been 
 retained an unwilling and feeble combatant on 
 our side only by the bribe of enonnous subsi- 
 dies. It is evident what the result will be : our 
 allies will one by one drop off, or become so in- 
 efficient as to be perfectly useless when the con- 
 test becomes either perilous or burdensome, and 
 we shall be left alone, with the whole weight of 
 a contest on our own shoulders, undertaken for 
 no legitimate object, continued for no conceivable 
 end. 
 
 " It is in vain to conceal that we have made 
 no advance whatever towards any rational pros- 
 pect of closing the contest with either honour or 
 advantage. In the first campaign, the Duke of 
 Bnmswick was defeated and Flanders overrun ; 
 in the next, the most formidable confederacy ever 
 formed in Europe has been baflled, and a fu- 
 rious civil war in different parts of the Republic 
 extinguished. What have we to oppose to this 
 astonishing exertion of vigour 1 The capture 
 of a few sugar islands in the West Indies. Of 
 what avail are they, or even the circumscrib- 
 ing the territorial limits of France itself, when 
 such elements of strength exist in its interior? 
 But let us revert to our old policy of attending 
 to our maritime concerns, and disregarding the 
 anarchy and civil wars of the neighbouring 
 
 states, and then, indeed, conquests in the East 
 and West Indies would afford an excellent foun- 
 dation for the only desirable object, a general 
 pacification. All views of aggrandizement on 
 the part of France arc evidently unatlaimible, aiid 
 must be abandoned by that pmcer : so that the pro- 
 fessed objects of the war, permanent security to 
 ourselves, may now be securely obtained."* 
 
 On the other hand, it was contended by Mr. 
 Pitt a?id Mr. Jenkinson,t " That the real object 
 of the war from the outset had been to obtain in- 
 demnity for the past and security for the future. 
 Are either of these objects likely to be obtained 
 at this period 1 At present there is no security 
 for the continuance of peace, even if it were sign- 
 ed for a single hour. Every successive faction 
 which has risen to the head of affairs in France, 
 has perished the moment that it attempted to im- 
 print moderation on the external or internal meas- 
 ures of the Revolution. What overthrew the 
 administration of Neckarl Moderation! What 
 destroyed the Orleanists, the Girondists, the Bris- 
 sotins, and all the various parties which have 
 successively risen and fallen in that troubled 
 hemisphere 1 Moderation ! What has given 
 its long lease of power to the anarchical faction of 
 which Robespierre is the head 1 The total want 
 of it : the infernal energ\', unmeasured wicked- 
 ness of its measures. What prospect is there of 
 entering into a lasting accommodation with a 
 power, or what the guarantee for the observance 
 of treaties of a faction, whom a single nocturnal 
 tumult may hurl from the seat of government, to 
 make way for some other more outrageous and 
 extravagant than itself 
 
 " The campaign, hitherto, has only lasted a 
 few weeks, yet in that time we have taken Lan- 
 drecy, formerly considered as the key of France ; 
 and though we have lost Courtray and Menin, 
 yet the vigour and resolution with which the 
 whole allied army has combated, gives good rea- 
 son to hope, if not for a successful march to Par- 
 is (which, however, is by no meansi mprobable), 
 at least for such an addition to the frontier bar- 
 rier as may prove at once a curb on France, and 
 an excellent base for offensive operations. It is 
 impossible to say what government we are to 
 propose for France in the event of the Jacobins 
 being overthrown, because that must depend on 
 the circumstances of the times and the wishes 
 of its inhabitants ; bitt this much may safely be 
 affirmed, that with the sanguinary faction who 
 now rule its cotmcils, accommodation is impos- 
 sible. 
 
 " The present is not a contest for distant or 
 contingent objects : it is not a contest for power 
 or glory: as little is it a contest for courmercial 
 advantage, or any particitlar form of govern- 
 ment: it is a contest for the security, the tran- 
 quillity, and the very existence of Great Britain, 
 connected with that of every established govern- 
 ment, and every country in Europe. This was 
 the object of the war from its commencement; 
 and every hour tends more strongly to demon- 
 strate its justice. In the outset, the internal an- 
 archy of France, how distressing or alarming 
 soever, was not deemed a sufficient ground for 
 the hostile interference of this countiy : but could 
 the same be affirmed when the king was behead- 
 ed, and a P,,evolutionary army, .spreading every- 
 where the most dangerous doctrines, overwhelm- 
 ed the whole Low Countries "? Is that danger 
 
 * Pari. Hist., xxxi., 615, 623, 632. 
 t Afterward Lord Liverpool. 
 
324 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 now at an end 1 The prospect of bringing the 
 war to a conclusion, as well as the security for 
 any engagements which we may form with 
 France, must ultijuately depend upon the de- 
 straction of those principles now triumphant in 
 France, which are alike subversive of every reg- 
 ular government, and destructive of all good 
 faith. We do not disclaim any interference in 
 the internal all'airs of that country; on the con- 
 trary, should an opportunity occur where it may 
 be practised with advantage, we will not engage 
 to abstain from it : we only say that such is not 
 the primary object of the contest; and that, if at- 
 tempted, it will be, as has been the case in all 
 former wars, considered as an operation of the 
 war. 
 
 " There is no contradiction between the proc- 
 lamation of Lord Hood at Toulon, and the dec- 
 laration of his majesty of the ^^th of October. 
 Both promise protection to such of the French as 
 choose to declare for a Constitutional monarchy, 
 and to both we shall adhere. By entering into 
 a negotiation, we should give confidence and 
 vigour to the French, and entirely dissolve the 
 formidable confederacy formed to lower its am- 
 bition. While the present system continues in 
 France, we can have no peace on any terms 
 short of absolute ruin and dishonour: by an ex- 
 press law of their Constitution, any Frenchman 
 who shall enter into a negotiation with this coun- 
 try on any other terms than surrendering our 
 Constitution, dethroning our virtuous sovereign, 
 and introducing into this country the horrible an- 
 archy which prevails in their distracted state, is 
 declared a traitor. Are we prepared to make 
 jruch sacrifices to obtain tie blessings of fraterni- 
 zation with the disciples of Robespierre 1 Nor 
 let it be supposed that the colonial conquests we 
 have made are of little moment in bringing about, 
 in the end, a termination to this frightful contest. 
 Is it of no moment in the first year of the war to 
 have cut up these resources, and destroyed the 
 sinews of their commerce "? The injury to their 
 revenues thence arising may not be felt during 
 the continuance of the monstrous and gigantic 
 expedients of finance to which they have had re- 
 course, but it is not, on that account, the less real, 
 or the less likely to be felt on the restoration of 
 such a regular government as may alibrd us any 
 chance of an accommodation."* On a division, 
 the house, by a majority of two hundred and 
 eight to fifty-five, supported the govemment.t 
 
 The supplies voted by Parliament for the ser- 
 SuppHes and ^'^^6 of the year 1794 were propor- 
 forces voted tjoned to the mcreasmg magmtude 
 for the year and importance of the Strife in which 
 l''^*- the nation was engaged. For the 
 
 service of the navy eighty-five thousand men 
 were voted ; thirtv thousand men were added to 
 the regular native army; and the total under 
 arms in the British dominions, including fenci- 
 bles and militia, raised to 140,000 men, besides 
 forty thousand foreign soldiers employed on the 
 Continent. These numbers were described by 
 Mr. Pitt as " unparalleled, and such as could 
 hardly be exceeded ;" such was the happy igno- 
 rance of those times in regard to the exertions of 
 which a nation was capable. To meet these ex- 
 traordinar>- exertions, an income of i^20,000,000, 
 besides xi 1,800,000 for the charge of the debt. 
 were required, and for this purpose a loan of 
 jeil,000,000 was voted by Parliament: so early 
 in the contest was this ruinous system of lay- 
 
 ParL Hiet., rxxi., 156, 632. 
 
 t Ibid., 658. 
 
 ing upon posterity the burdens of the moment 
 adopted.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the ascendency of the English 
 navy soon produced its wonted effects 
 on the colonial possessions of their ^P"'' *'^^- 
 enemies. Soon alter the commencement of hos- 
 tilities, Tobago was taken by a British squadron; 
 and in the beginning of March. 1794, an expedi- 
 tion was fitted out against Martinique, which, 
 after a vigorous resistance, fell on the 
 23d. Shortly after, the principal forts ^^'''^^ ^• 
 in St. Domingo were wrested Irora the Republi- 
 cans by the English forces, while the British con- 
 wretched planters, a prey to the fiames quests in the 
 lighted by Brissot and the friends of West Indies, 
 negro emancipation at the commencement of the 
 Revolution, were totally ruined. No sooner was 
 this success achieved, than the indefatigable Eng- 
 lish commander, Sir John Jarvis, and Sir Charles 
 Grey, turned their ai'ms against St. Lucia, which 
 was subjected to the British dominions on the 
 4th of April. Guadaloupe was next attacked, 
 and on the 25th, that fine island, with all its rich 
 dependancies, was added to the list of the con- 
 quered colonies. Thus, in little more than a 
 month, the French were entirely dispossessed of 
 their West India possessions, with hardly any 
 loss to the victorious nation.t 
 
 The once beautiful island of St. Domingo 
 meanwhile continued a prey to the frightful dis- 
 orders arising from precipitate emancipation. 
 " It had gone through," says the Republican his- 
 torian, " the greatest succession of calamities of 
 which history makes mention." The whites had 
 at first embraced with enthusiasm the cause of 
 the Revolution, and the mulattoes, tu whom the 
 Constituent Assembly had extended the gift of 
 freedom, were not less attached to the principles 
 of Democracy, and openly aspired to dispossess 
 the planters, by force, of those political privileges 
 which had hitherto been their exclusive property. 
 But, in the midst of these contests, the negroes 
 had revolted against both, and without distin- 
 guishing friend from foe, applied the firebrand in- 
 discriminately to every civilized dwelling. Dis- 
 tracted by these horrors, the Constituent Assem- 
 bly at once declared them all free. From the 
 moment that emancipation was announced, the 
 colony became the theatre of the most horrible 
 devastations ; and the contending parties among 
 the higher orders mutually threw upon each other 
 the blame of having brought a frightful party into 
 their contests, whose ravages were utterly de- 
 structiv^e to both. In truth, it was owing to nei- 
 ther, but to the precipitate measures of emancipa- 
 tion, dictated by the ardent and inexperienced 
 philanthropists of the Constituent Assembly, 
 and which have consigned that unhappy colony, 
 after thirty years of imexampled suiiering, to a 
 state of slaverv,: under the name of " The Rural 
 Code," infinitely worse than that of the French 
 planters. 
 
 In the Mediterranean, also, the power of the 
 British navy was speedily felt. The ^nd in the 
 disaster at Toulon having totally par- Mediterra- 
 alyzed the French navy in that quarter, "<='^n- 
 the English fleet was enabled to carry the land 
 forces, now rendered disposable by the evacua- 
 tion of Toulon, to whatever quarter they chose. 
 Corsica was the selected point of attack, which, 
 early in 1794, had shown symptoms of revolt 
 against the Republican authorities. Three thou- 
 
 * Pari. IIiBt., XXX., 557, 563. Ann. Reg.. 1794, 69, 70. 
 
 t .A.nn., Reg., 1794, p. 188, 337, 339, 340. Th., vi., .301. 
 
 302. t Th.,vi.,301. Mackenzie's St. Domingo, 201, 232. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 325 
 
 sand soldiers and marines were landed, and after 
 some inconsiderable successe:?, nearly cfl'ected 
 ihe subjeciion of the island by the capture of the 
 fortress of Ba.stia, which capitulated at the end 
 of May. The only remaining stronghold of the 
 Republicans, Calvi, was besieged until the 1st 
 of August, when it surrendered to the British 
 arms. The crown of Corsica, ofi'ered by Paoli 
 and the aristocralical parly to the King of Eng- 
 land, was accepted, and efforts immediately 
 made to confer upon the inhabitants a Constitu- 
 tion similar to that of Great Britain : a project 
 about as practicable as it would have been to 
 have clothed the British plains with the fruits 
 Avhich ripen under its sunny cliffs.* 
 
 But a more glorious triumph was awaiting 
 Victorv of the ^he British arms. The French gov- 
 jstuf June, by emment having, by great cxertions, 
 Admiral Howe, got twenty-six ships of the line into 
 a state fit for service at Brest, and being extreme- 
 ly anxious to secure the arrival of a large fleet, 
 laden with provisions, which was approaching 
 from America, and promised to relieve the fam- 
 ine which was now lelt with uncommon severity 
 in all parts of France, sent positive orders to Ad- 
 miral Villaret Joyeuse to put to sea. On the 
 '20th of May the French set sail, and on the 
 28th, Lord Howe, who was well aware of the 
 expected arrival of the convoy, hove in sight, 
 with the Channel tieet of England, consisting of 
 twenty-six line-of-batile ships. The French 
 were immediately formed in line in order of 
 battle, and a partial action ensued between the 
 rearguard of their line and the vanguard of the 
 British squadron, in the course of which the 
 Revolution aire was so much damaged that she 
 struck to the Audacious, but not being taken 
 possession of by the victors before nightt'all, was 
 towed the following morning into Rochefort. 
 During the next da}' the manoeuvres Avere re- 
 newed on both sides, each party endeavouring 
 to obtain the weather gage of the other; and 
 Lord Howe, at the head of his fleet, passed 
 through the French squadron; but the whole 
 ships not having taken the position assigned to 
 them, the action, after a severe commencement, 
 was discontinued, and the British admiral strove, 
 %vith the utmost skill, to maintain the wind of the 
 enemy. During the two following days a thick 
 fog concealed the rival fleets from each other, 
 though they were so near that both sides were 
 well aware that a great battle was approaching, 
 and with difficulty restrained the ardour by which 
 they were animated. t 
 
 At length, on the 1st of June, a day memora- 
 ble in the naval annals of England, the sun broke 
 forth with unusual splendour, and discovered the 
 French fleet in order of battle, a few miles from 
 the English, awaiting the combat, while an agi- 
 tated sea promised the advantage of the wind to 
 an immediate attack. Lord Howe instantly bore 
 down, in an oblique direction, upon the enemy's 
 line, designing to repeat the manoeuvre long 
 known in the British navy, but first traced to 
 .scientific principles by Clerk of Eldin, and so 
 successfully carried into execution by Rodney 
 on the l'2th of April. Having the weather-gage 
 of the enemy, he was enabled to break their line 
 near the centre, and double with a prepondera- 
 ting force on the one half of their squadron. The 
 signal he displayed was No. 39, the pui-port of 
 which was, " that, having the weather-gage of 
 
 * Join., v., 192. Aim. Reg., 1794. 310. 341. 
 t Jom., v., 2S4, 288. James, i., 205-219. Th., vi., 304. 
 Ana. Reg., 1794, 342,343. 
 
 the enemy, the admiral means to pass between 
 the ships of their line and engage them to lee- 
 ward, leaving, however, a discretion to each cap- 
 tain to engage on the windward or leeward." 
 The French fleet was drawn up in close line, 
 stretching nearly east and west ; and a heavy fire 
 commenced upon the British fleet as soon as 
 they came witliin range. The English did not 
 come perpendicularly upon llieir adversaries as 
 at Trafalgar, but made sail abreast in such a 
 manner as that each ship should, as soon as 
 possible, cut the line and get alongside of its 
 destined antagonist, and engage it to leeward, so 
 that, if worsted, the enemy could not get away. 
 Had the admiral's orders been literally obeyed, 
 or capable of complete execution, the most deci- 
 sive naval victory recorded in history would, in 
 all probability, have attended the British arms; 
 but the importance of specific obedience in the 
 vital point of engaging the enemy to leeward 
 was not then generally understood, and the ene- 
 my's line was so regular and compact, that in 
 most places it was impervious, and five only of 
 the ships succeeded in passing through. The 
 Coesar, in particular, which was the leading 
 vessel when the signal for close action was fly- 
 ing from the admiral's masthead, backed her 
 main-topsails, and engaged on the windward of 
 the enemy : a disheartening circumstance, though 
 arising, as it afterward appeared, from want of 
 capacity rather than timidity on the part of its 
 captain. Howe, however, was not discouraged, 
 but held steadily on, walking on the front of his 
 poop along with Sir Roger Curtis, Sir Andi'ew 
 Douglas, and otlier officers, while the crew were 
 falling fast around him, and the spars and rig- 
 ging rattled down on all sides, under the terrible 
 and constantly increasing fire of the enemy. 
 With perfect composure the British admiral or- 
 dered not a shot to be fired, but to lay him along- 
 side of the Montagne, of 120 guns, the greatest 
 vessel in the French line, and probably the lar- 
 gest then in the world. So awful was the pros- 
 pect that awaited the French vessel from the 
 majestic advance of the British admiral, that 
 Jean Bon Saint Andre, the French commission- 
 er of the convention on board, overcome with 
 terror, took refuge below. After many entreat- 
 ies, Howe allowed a straggling fire to be re- 
 turned, but from the main and quarter deck only; 
 and, reserving his whole broadside, poured it 
 with terrible effect into the stern of the Mon- 
 tagne, as he slowly passed through the line be- 
 tween that huge three-decker and the Jacobin 
 of 80 guns. So close did the ships pass on this 
 occasion, that the tricolour flag, as it waved at 
 the Montague's flagstaff, brushed the main and 
 mizen shrouds of the Glueen Charlotte ; and so 
 terrible the effect of the broadside, that three 
 hundred men were killed or wounded by that 
 discharge.* 
 
 Fearful of encountering a similar broadside 
 on the other side, the captain of the Jacobin 
 stretched across under the Montague's lee, and 
 thus threw herself a little behind that vessel, 
 right in the Glueen Charlotte's way, in the very 
 position which Howe had designed for himself 
 to engage the enemy's three-decker. The Eng- 
 li.sh admiral, therefore, was obliged to alter his 
 course a little, and pass aslant between the two 
 vessels, and, having thus got betr^-een them, 
 opened a tremendous fire on both. The Jacobin 
 
 * Barrow's Life of Howe, 232, 233. Brenton, i., 129, 
 130. James, i.. 147, 146. Vict, et Cono,., iii., 20. Join., 
 v., 290. Toul., jv., 247. 
 
326 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 soon made sail to get out of the destructive 
 range, and, being to the leeward of the British 
 admiral, he effected this ; but the Montagne 
 could not do the same, being to the windward ; 
 and she would unquestionabl)' have been taken, 
 as she was hardly tiring at all after the first aw- 
 ful broadside, when the foretopmast of the Glueen 
 Charlotte came down ; upon which, the Mon- 
 tagne, taking advantage of her momentary ina- 
 bility to move, contrived to sheer off', leaving 
 the British admiral now engaged with the two 
 ships, second and third, astern of her. The Ven- 
 geur, of 74 guns, was warmly engaged at this 
 time with the Brunswick, under Harvey; but 
 another French ship, the Achille, came up on 
 the other side, and a terrible combat began on 
 the part of the British vessel, thus engaged on 
 both hands. It was sustained, however, with 
 admirable courage. Captain Harvey was se- 
 verely wounded in the hottest part of the engage- 
 ment; but, before being carried down, he said, 
 " Persevere, my brave lads, in your duty ; con- 
 tinue the action with spirit for the honoiu' of 
 our king and countrj-, and remember my last 
 words, 'The colours of the Brunswick shall 
 never be struck.' " Such heroism was not long 
 of meeting with its reward : the Ramillies soon 
 after came up, and opened her fire upon the Ven- 
 geur ; the load was taken off the Brunswick, 
 and, by a fortunate shot, the rudder of the French 
 vessel was shot away, and a large opening beat 
 in her stern, in which the water rushed with great 
 violence. The Vengeur was now found to be 
 sinking; the Achille made off, followed by the 
 Ramillies, to whom she soon strack; and the 
 Vengeur shortly after went down, with two hun- 
 dred of her crew, four hundred and fifty having 
 been humanely taken off by the boats of the Al- 
 fred and Culloden.*+ 
 
 The French now began to move off in all 
 quarters, and the British ships, with their prizes, 
 closed round their admiral. The damage sus- 
 tained by the English was inconsiderable, ex- 
 cept in four ships, which were disabled for 
 farther service ; fifteen sail of the line were 
 ready to renew the battle ; they had still the 
 weather-gage of the enemj' ; ten of his line had 
 struck, though six only of them had been se- 
 cured, and five of his ships were dismasted, and 
 were slowly going off under their spritsails. 
 Had Nelson been at the head of the fleet, there 
 can be little duubt they would all have been 
 taken, and perhaps a \ictory as decisive as Traf- 
 algar totally destroyed the Brest fleet. But the 
 British admirals at that period were, in a man- 
 ner, ignorant of their own prowess ; the securing 
 
 * James, i., 162, 165. Brenton, i., 130, 131. Barrow's 
 Howe, 233, 234. Jom., v., 291. Toul., iv., 247. 
 
 t It was stated in the French Convention, and has been 
 repeated in all the French histories, that when the Vens^eur 
 sunk, her crew were shoutin? " A'ive la Republique." 
 Knowing' that the gallantry of the French was equal to 
 sucli an effort, the author with pleasure transcribed this 
 statement in his former editions ; but he has now ascertain- 
 ed that it was unforinded, not only from the account of Cap- 
 tain Brenton (i., 131), hut from the authority of a gallant 
 naval officer, Admiral Griffiths, who was in the Brunswick 
 on the occasion, and saw the Vengeur go down. There 
 were cries heard, but they were jjiteous cries for relief, 
 ■which the British boats afforded to the utmost of their pow- 
 er. Among the survivers of the Vengeur's crew were Cap- 
 tain Renaudin and his son, a brave boy of twelve years of 
 age. They were taken up by different boats, and mutually 
 mourned each other as dead, till they accidentally met at 
 Portsmouth in the street, and rushed into each other's anns 
 with a rapture undescvibable. They were both soon after 
 exchanged : a braver and more humane father and son never 
 breathed. — James, i., 165. 
 
 of the prizes taken was deemed the great object, 
 and thus the pursuit was discontinued, and the 
 enemy, contrary to all expectation, got his dis- 
 masted ships off, and before dark was entirely 
 out of sight. Six ships of the line, however, be- 
 side the Vengeur, which sunk, remained in the 
 possession of the British admiral, and were 
 brought into Plymouth; while the remains of 
 the French squadron, diminished by eight of 
 their number, and with a loss of eight thousand 
 men, took refuge in the roads of Berthaume, and 
 ultimately regained the harbour of Brest, shat- 
 tered, dismasted, riddled with shot : how differ- 
 ent from the splendid fleet which had so recently 
 departed amid the acclamations of the inhabi- 
 tants ! The loss of the British was two hundred 
 and ninety killed,* and eight hundred and fifty- 
 eight wounded, in all eleven hundred and forty- 
 eight, being less than that sustained in the six 
 French ships alone which were made prizes. 
 
 The Republicans were in some degree con- 
 soled for this disaster by the safe arrival of the 
 great American convo)', consisting of one hun- 
 dred and sixty sail, and valued at i;5,000,000 
 sterling; a supply of incalculable importance to 
 the wants of a population whom the Reign ofi 
 TeiTor and civil dissension had brought to the 
 verge of famine. They entered the harbour of 
 Brest a few days after the engagement, having 
 escaped, as if by a miracle, the vigilance of the 
 British cruisers. Their safety was in a great 
 degree owing to the sagacity of the admiral, who 
 traversed the scene of destruction a day or two 
 after the engagement, and judging, from the mag- 
 nitude and number of the wrecks which were 
 floating about, that a terrible battle must have 
 taken place, concluded that the victorious party 
 would not be in a condition for pursuit, and re- 
 solved to hold on his course for the French har- 
 bour.t 
 
 Lord Howe gained so decisive a success from 
 the adoption of the same principle xactics by 
 which gave victory to Frederic at which the vic- 
 Leuthen, to Napoleon at Austerlitz, tory wasgain- 
 and Wellington at Salamanca, viz., ^'^• 
 to bring an overwhelming force to one point, and 
 reduce one half of the enemy's fleet to be the 
 passive spectator of the destruction of the other.t 
 His mode of attack, which brought his whole 
 line at once into action with the enemy, seems 
 clearly preferable to that adopted by Nelson at 
 Trafalgar in sailing down in perpendicular lines, 
 for that exposed the leading ships to imminent 
 danger before the succeeding ones came up. 
 Had he succeeded in penetrating the enemy's 
 line at all points, and engaged the whole to 
 windward, he would have brought twenty ships 
 of the line into Spithead. To a skilful and in- 
 trepid squadron, who do not fear to engage at 
 the cannon's mouth with their enem)^, such a ma- 
 ncEuvre offers even greater chances of success at 
 sea than at land, because the complete absence 
 of obstacles on the level expanse of water ena- 
 bles the attacking squadj-on to calculate with 
 more certaint}' upon reaching their object ; and 
 the advantage of the wind, if once obtained, ren- 
 ders it proportionally difficult for one part of the 
 enemy's line to be brought up to the relief of the 
 other. 
 
 Never was a victory more seasonable than 
 
 * Jom., v., 290. Toul., iv., 248. Ann. Reg., 1794. p. 34. 
 James, i., 172, 174. Brenton, i., 141, 148. Barrow's Howe, 
 251,252. t Jom., v., 291. 
 
 t Jom., v.. 283. Ann. Reg., 1794, p. 344. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 327 
 
 Its great mor- Lord Howe's to the British govern- 
 al effect in ment. The war, preceded as it had 
 England. been by violent party divisions in 
 England, had been regarded with lukewarm 
 feelings by a large portion of the people ; and 
 the friends of freedom dared not wish fur the 
 success of the British arms, lest it should ex- 
 tinguish the dawn of liberty in the world. But 
 the Reign of Terror had shocked the best feel- 
 ings of all the respectable jportion of this party, 
 and the victory of the 1st ot June captivated the 
 aifections of the giddy multitude. The ancient 
 but half extinguished loyalty of the British peo- 
 ple wakened at the somid of their victorious 
 carmon ; and the hereditary rivalry of the two 
 nations revived at so signal a triumph over the 
 Republican arms. From tliis period may be 
 dated the commencement of that finn union 
 among the inhabitants of the country', and that 
 ardent enthusiasm in the contest, which soon 
 extinguished the seeds of former dissension, and 
 ultimately carried the British Empire triumphant 
 through the severest struggles which had en- 
 gaged the nation since the days of Alfred.* 
 
 Vast were the preparations for war made by 
 Vast military the Committee of Public Safetj- in 
 preparations France. Her territory resembled an 
 ot France. immense camp ; the decrees of the 
 23d of August and 5th of September had precipi- 
 tated the whole youth of the Republic to the fron- 
 tiers, and 1,200,000 men in arms were prepared 
 to obey the sovereign mandates of the convention. 
 After deducting from this immense force the gar- 
 risons, the troops destined to the service of the in- 
 terior, and the sick, upward of 700,000 were ready 
 to act on the offensive : a force much greater than 
 all the European monarchies could bring forward 
 to meet them. These enormous armies, though 
 in part but little experienced, were greatly im- 
 proved in discipline since the conclusion of the 
 preceding campaign ; the months of winter had 
 been seduloirsly employed in instructing them in 
 the rudiments of the military art ; the glorious 
 successes at the close of the year had revived the 
 spirit of conquest among the soldiers, and the 
 wliole were directed by a central government, 
 possessing, in the highest degree, the advantage 
 of unity of action and consummate militarj' 
 talent.t 
 
 Wielding at command so immense a military 
 force, the Committee of Public Safety were 
 prodigal of the blood of their soldiers. To ad- 
 vance incessantly to the attack, to bring up col- 
 umn after column, till the enemy were wearied 
 out or overpowered, to regard as nothing any 
 losses which led to the advance of Republican 
 standards, were the maxims on which they con- 
 ducted the war. No other power could venture 
 upon such an expenditure of life, because none 
 had such inexhaustible resources at their dis- 
 posal. Money and men abounded in eveiy 
 quarter ; the camps were o^^ertiowing with con- 
 scripts, the fortresses with artillery, the treasury 
 with assignats. The preceding campaign had 
 cost above £100,000,000 sterling, but the resour- 
 ces of government were undiminished. Three 
 fourths of the whole property of France was at 
 its disposal ; and on this vast fund a paper cur- 
 rency was issued, possessing a forced circulation, 
 and amply sufficient for the most prodigal expen- 
 diture. The value of assignats in circulation in 
 the course of the year 1794 was not less t han 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1794, p. 282, 283. 
 
 + Jom., v., 28, 30. Th., vi., 271, 272. Ann. Reg., 1794, 
 
 £200,000,000 Sterling, and there was no appear- 
 ance of its diminution.* The rapid depreciation 
 of this paper, arising from the enormous profu- 
 sion with which it was i.ssued, was nothing to a 
 power which enforced its mandates by the guil- 
 lotine ; the government creditor was compelled 
 to receive it at par, and it .signified nothing to 
 them though he lost his whole fortune in the next 
 exchange with any citizen of the Republic. 
 
 What rendered this force still more formi- 
 dable was the ability with which it Talent with 
 was conducted, and the talent which which it was 
 was evidently rising up among its wielded, 
 ranks. The genius of Camot had from the very 
 commencement selected the officers of greatest 
 talent from among the multitude who preseoted 
 themselves ; and their rapid transference from 
 one situation to another gave ample opportuni- 
 ties for discovering who were the men on whom 
 reliance could really be placed.t The whole 
 talent of France, inconsequence of the extinction 
 of civil employment, M'as centred in the army, 
 and indefatigable exertions everywhere made "to 
 communicate to headquarters the names of the 
 young men who had distinguished themselves in 
 any grade. The central government, guided by 
 that able statesman, had discovered the real se- 
 cret of military operations, and by accumulating 
 an overwhelming force upon one part of the 
 enemy's line, soon acquired a decided superiority 
 over the Austrians, who adliered with blind ob- 
 stinacy to the system of extending their forces. 
 In the pro.secution of this system, the French had 
 peculiar advantages, from the unity of their gov- 
 ernment, the central situation of their forces, the 
 interior line on which they acted, the fortified 
 towns which guarded their frontier, and the un- 
 bounded means of repairing losses which they 
 possessed ; while the allies, acting on an exterior 
 circle, paralyzed by divisions among their sover- 
 eigns, and at a distance from their resources, 
 were unable either to combine for any vigorous 
 offensive operations, or render each other any 
 assistance when pressed by the enemy. Incred- 
 ible efforts were made at the same time to organ- 
 ize and equip this prodigious body of soldiers. 
 " A revolution," said Barere, " must rapidly 
 supply all our wants. It is to the human mind 
 what the sun of Africa is to vegetation. Mon- 
 archies require peace, but a republic can exist 
 only in warlike energy : slaves have need of re- 
 pose, but freemen of the fermentation of freedom ; 
 regular governments of rest, but the French Re- 
 public of revolutionaiy activity." The Ecole 
 Militaire was speedily re-established; and the 
 youth of the better classes marched on foot from 
 all parts of France, to be there instructed in the 
 rudiments of the military art; one horse out of 
 twenty-five was everywhere levied, and the pro- 
 prietor paid only nine hundred francs in paper, 
 hardly equivalent, from its depreciation, to a 
 louis in gold. By these means, however, the 
 cavaliy and artillery were furnished with horses, 
 and a considerable body of educated young men 
 rapidl}' provided for the army. The manufac- 
 tories of arms at Paris and in the provinces, 
 were kept in incessant activity ; artificial means 
 universally adopted for the production of salt- 
 petre, and gunpowder in immense quantities 
 dailv fonvarded to the armies.* 
 
 Indefatigable were the exertions made by Mr. 
 
 * Ann. Re?., 1794, 324, 345. Toul.,iT., 321. Jom.,v.,30. 
 t Cainot's Memoirs, 32. 
 
 t Th., vi., 247-272. Jom., v., 32. Camot, 32. Hard., 
 ii., 457. 
 
328 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 Pitt to provide a force on the part ol' the allies 
 capable ofcombating this gigantic Ibe; and never 
 were the efforts ofhis master-spirit more required 
 to heal the divisions and e.xtingui.sh the jealou- 
 sies which had arisen in the coalition. Poland 
 was the apple of discord which had called forth 
 these separate interests and awakened these 
 jealousies ; and in the plans of aggrandizement 
 which they were all pursuing in regard to that 
 unliappy state is to be found the true secret of 
 iheir neglect of the great task of combating the 
 French Revolution, and of its rapid and early 
 success. Prussia, intent on territorial acquisi- 
 tion on the shores of the Vistula, and desirous 
 above everything of securing Danlzic, the key to 
 tliat stream, and the great emporium of the grain 
 cotnmerce in the north of Europe, had already 
 assembled forty thousand men, under the king in 
 person, for the siege of Warsaw ; and the cabinet 
 of Berlin, unable to bear, at the same time, the 
 expense of a costly war on the eastern and west- 
 ern frontiers of the monarchy, had, in con.se- 
 quence, greatly diniinished their forces on the 
 Rhine, and openly announced their intention of 
 reducing them to the contingent which they were 
 bound to furnish as a member of the Empire, 
 which was only twenty thousand men. 
 ITW*^^ *^' Orders had even been despatched to 
 Marshal Moellendorf, who commanded 
 their anny on the Rhine, to retreat by divisions 
 towards the Elbe ; while, at the same time, with 
 Ja 31 i~94 preposterous inconsistency, Frederic 
 • ' • William addressed a letter to the 
 arch-chancellor of the Empire, in M-hich he be- 
 wailed in piteous terms the public danger, and 
 urged the immediate convocation of the anterior 
 circles to deliberate on the most effectual meajis 
 of withstanding the Revolutionary torrent with 
 which they were menaced.*+ 
 
 The cabinet of Vienna were greatly alarmed 
 at this official declaration of the intention of the 
 Prussian government to withdraw from the coali- 
 tion, and their chagrin v/as not diminished by the 
 clear perception which they had, that this untime- 
 ly and discreditable defection was mainly prompt- 
 ed by a desire to secure a share in the partition 
 of Poland, of which they saw little prospect of 
 their being allowed to participate. They used 
 the most pressing instances, therefore, to induce 
 the cabinet of Berlin to recall their resolution ; 
 offered to take a large portion of the Prussian 
 troops into their own pay, provided the other 
 states of Germany would taJie upon themselves 
 the charges of the remainder; and even urged the 
 immediate formation of a levy en masse in all the 
 circles of the Empire immediately threatened 
 with invasion, in order to combat the redoubta- 
 
 * Hard.,ii., 488,489. 
 
 t " As it is impossible fur me," said the king in that let- 
 ter, " any louder to continue at my own charges a war so 
 remote from the frontiers of my dominions, and attended 
 with so heavy an expense, 1 have candidly explained my 
 situation to the principal allied powers, and engaged in ne- 
 gotiations with them which are still in dependance. I am, 
 in consequence, under the necessity of applyraj to the em- 
 pire to provide for the costs of my army, if its longer con- 
 tinuance on the theatre of war is deemed essential to the 
 common defence. I implore your excellency, therefore, 
 that, in your quality of arch-chancellor of the Empire, you 
 will firthwith convoke the anterior circles. An immediate 
 provision for my troops at the expense of these circles is the 
 only means which remain of saving the Empire in the terri- 
 ble crisis which is approaching ; and, unless that step is 
 forthwith taken, they can no longer be employed in the 
 common cause, and I must order them, with regret, to bend 
 their steps towards their own frontier, leaving the Empire to 
 Its own resources."* 
 
 « H.irJ., li., 183, 400. 
 
 ble forces which France was pouring forth from 
 all ranks of her population. Austria, however, 
 though so desirous to stimulate others to these 
 last and convulsive efforts, made no attempt to 
 rouse their emulation by setting the example of 
 similar armaments herself; not a regiment was 
 added to the imperial armies ; and the Prussian 
 cabinet, little solicitous to behold the whole pop- 
 ulation of the Empire combating under the ban- 
 ners of the Cffisars, strenuously resisted the pro- 
 posal as useless, dangerous, and utterly incon- 
 sistent with the principles of the contest in which 
 they were engaged.* 
 
 It soon appeared how ruinous to the common 
 cause this unexpected .secession of Prussia 
 would become. The Republican forces in Flan- 
 ders were nearly 160,000 strong; and Mack, who 
 was intrusted with the chief direction of the cam- 
 paign by the allied powers, finding that the whole 
 forces which the allies could assemble in that 
 quarter w^ould not exceed 150,000, had strongly 
 urged the necessity of obtaining the co-operation 
 of rifty thousand Prussians, in order to cover the 
 Meuse, in conjunction with the Austrian divis- 
 ions in the neighbourhood of Luxembourg. The 
 Prussians under Moellendorf were cantoned on 
 the two banks of the Seltz, between Oppenheira 
 and Mayence; but when he received tne letter 
 from Prince Cobourg requesting his co-opera- 
 tion, he replied, in cold and ambiguous terms, 
 " That he was not acquainted with the 
 share which his government may have ' "'^ 
 taken in the formation of the proposed plan of 
 operations : that the views on which it was found- 
 ed appeared unexceptionable, but that, in the ex- 
 isting state of affairs, it was attended with ob- 
 vious inconveniences, and that he could not con- 
 sent to the march to Treves, lest he should ex- 
 pose Mayence. "t 
 
 These declarations of the intentions of Prussia 
 excited the greater sensation in Europe, as ever 
 since the war began it had been supposed that 
 the cabinets of Berlin and Vienna were united in 
 the closest bands of alliance, and the convention 
 of Pilnitz was universally regarded as the true 
 basis of the anti-revolutionary coalition. The 
 confederacy appeared to be on the verge of disso- 
 lution. Stimulated by the pressing dangers of 
 his situation, the Elector of Mayence, who stood 
 in the front rank of the Germanic powers, proved 
 indefatigable in his efforts to promote the with- 
 drawing of the Prussian troops, and by his exer- 
 tions a proposition was favourably re- 
 ceived by the Diet of the Empire for ta- ^''^^^■f^- 
 liing the Prussian troops into the pay 
 of the lesser powers, and the Marshal Moellen- 
 dorf soon after received orders to suspend his re- 
 treat.} 
 
 This change in the Prussian plans arose from 
 the vast exertions which Mr. Pitt at this period 
 made to hold together the bands of the confeder- 
 acy. Alone of all the statesmen of his day, the 
 English minister perceived the full extent of the 
 danger which menaced Europe from the spread- 
 ing of the revolutionarv' torrent over the adjoin- 
 ing states, and the immense peril of this speedily 
 coming to pass from the divisions and distraction 
 of interests which were breaking oitt among the 
 allied powers. No sooner, therefore, was he in- 
 formed of the intended defection of Prussia, than 
 he exerted all his influence to bring back the 
 cabinet of Berlin to more rational sentiments, 
 
 * Hard , ii., 481, 488. Jom., v., 29. Th., vi., 269. 
 t Hard, ii., 480, 481. t Hard., ii., 501,502. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 329 
 
 and liberally advanced the treasures of England 
 to retain tlic Prussian troops in a contest so vital 
 to none as to Prussia herseli'. By his 
 April 19. exertions, a treaty was signed at the 
 Hague between Prussia, Holland, and Great 
 Britain, bv which it was stipulated that Prussia 
 should retain an army of sixty-two thousand vet- 
 erans in the field, while the two latter should 
 furnish a subsidy of X50,0()0 a month, besides 
 je400,000 for putting the army into a lit condition 
 to undertake a campaign, and £i l'2s. a month to 
 each man as an equivalent for the expenses of 
 his maintenance while engaged in active service. 
 By a separate article, it was provided " that all 
 conquests made by this army shall be made in 
 the names ol' the two maritime powers, and shall 
 remain at their disposal during the course of the 
 war, and at the peace shall be made such use of 
 as they shall deem proper."* 
 
 However meritorious were the exertions of 
 Mr. Pitt in thus again bringing Prussia into the 
 field after its government had formally announ- 
 ced their intention of withdi'awing from the con- 
 federacy, it was in part ibreseen,t what the event 
 soon demonstrated, that the succours stipulated 
 from Prussia would prove of the most inefficient 
 description, and that nothing was to be expected 
 from the troops of a leading power, engaged as 
 hirelings contrary to the national feelings and 
 the secret inclinations of the government, in what 
 they deemed a foreign cause. The discontent of 
 the troops was loudly proclaimed when it trans- 
 pired that they were to be transferred to the pay 
 of Great Britain, and they openly murmured at 
 the disgrace of having the soldiers of the great 
 Frederic sold like mercenaries to a foreign 
 power.t 
 
 General Mack, whose subsequent and unex- 
 ampled misfortunes should not exclude the recol- 
 lection of the abilities in a particular department 
 which he really possessed, was intrusted by the 
 Austrian and English governments with the prep- 
 aration of the plan of the campaign; and he pro- 
 posed one which bore the marks of decided tal- 
 ent, and -which, if vigorously carried into effect 
 by a sufficient force, still promised the most brill- 
 iant results. This was to complete the opening 
 into the French barrier by the capture of Landre- 
 cy; and, having done so, march with the whole 
 allied army in Flanders, 160,000 strong, straight 
 by Laon oh Paris, while the Prussian forces, by 
 a forward movement on the side of Namur, sup- 
 ported the operation. " With 150,000 men," said 
 lie, " I would push forward a strong advanced 
 guard to Paris; with 200,000 I would engage to 
 remain there." He proposed that West Flanders 
 .should be inundated by troops at the same time, 
 so that the main arm}^, in the course of its peril- 
 ous advance, should have no disquietude for its 
 ilank and rear. This plan was ably conceived, 
 and was evidently the one which should have 
 been adopted in the preceding campaign; but it 
 proved abortive, from the strong remonstrances 
 
 * Pari. Hist., xxxi., 434, 435. Hard., ii., 504, 505. 
 
 t It was asked in the House of Poer.s, with a too prophetic 
 spirit, by the Marquis ofLansdown, ''Could the Kiue <'( Prus- 
 sia — ought the King of Prussia to divest himself of his natural 
 duties ? Could it be expected that he would fulfil enoage- 
 ments so trivitd in comparison 7 Was not Poland likely to 
 furnish him employment for his troops, and that, too, at his 
 own door 1 There never were two powere hated one another 
 more cordially than Prussia and Austria, and were English 
 puineas likely to allay the discord] Was it not probable 
 that Frederic William would take our subsidies, but find 
 pretexts fur evading the performance of anything in return 
 worthv of the name ?"— Pari. Hist., xxxi., 456, 458. 
 
 t Hard., ii., 504, 507. 
 
 Vol. I.— T t 
 
 of the inhabitants of West Flanders against a 
 measure which promised to render their province 
 the theatre of war, and the jealousy of the Prus- 
 sian government, which precluded any effectual 
 co-operation from being obtained on that side of 
 the line, and left the whole weight of the contest 
 on the Austrians and English, whose forces were 
 not of suiiicient numerical strength for the strug- 
 gle.n 
 
 Unaware of the immen.se military resources 
 and ascending spirit of their adver- Phmoftheal- 
 saries, the allies resolved to capture lies. Landrecy 
 Landrecy, and from that base march taken, 
 directly to Paris. Preparatory to this move- 
 ment, their whole army was, on the l(jth of April, 
 reviewed by the Emperor of Austria on the 
 plains of Cateau ; they amounted nearly to 150,000 
 men, and were particularly distinguished by the 
 superb appearance of the cavalry, constituting 
 a force apparently capable of conquering the 
 world. Instead of profiting by this immense as- 
 semblage of strength to fall upon the still scatter- 
 ed forces of their enemies, the troops were on the 
 following day divided into eight columns, to op- 
 pose the French forces, which were still divided 
 ill that manner. The siege of Landrecy was 
 shortly after formed, while a large portion of the 
 allied anny was stationed as a covering force. 
 After ten days of open trenches, and a most se- 
 vere bombardment, which almost totally destroy- 
 ed the town, this important fortress capitulated, 
 and the garrison, consisting of five thousand 
 men, was made prisoners of war.t 
 
 During the progress of this attack, the French 
 generals, stimulated by the orders ^^^^^^ ^f ^^^ 
 of the Committee of Public Safety, Republicans 
 made reiterated efforts to raise the to raise the 
 siege. Their endeavours were much siege. 
 aided by the absurd adherence of the allies to the 
 old plan of dividing their forces : they trembled 
 at the thoughts of leaving a single road open, as 
 if the fate of the war depended upon closing eve- 
 ry avenue into Flanders, when they were con- 
 templating a march to Paris. The plan of the 
 Republicans consisted in a series of attacks on 
 the posts and corps forming the long cordon of 
 the allies, followed by a serious advance of the 
 two wings, the one towards Philipville, the other 
 Dunkirk. On the 26th of April, the movement 
 in advance took place along the whole line. 
 The centre, which advanced against the Duke 
 of York near Cambra^', experienced the most 
 bloody reverses. When the Republicans arri- 
 ved at the redoubts of Troisville, defended by the 
 Duke of York, they were vigorously assailed 
 by the English Guards in front, supported by 
 Prince Schwartzenberg, commanding a regi- 
 ment of Austrian cuirassiers, while General 
 Otto charged them in flank at the head of the 
 English cavalry, and completetl their rout. The 
 whole corps were driven back in confusion to 
 Cambray, with the loss of thirty-five pieces of 
 
 * Hard.,28, 478, 528. 520. 
 
 t Tlie armies were disposed as follows : 
 
 FRENCH. ALLIES. 
 
 Armv of the North 220,000 Flanders 140,000 
 
 Moselle and Rhine 280,000 L)uke of York 40,000 
 
 Alps 60,000 Austrians on the Rhine 00,000 
 
 Eastern Pvienees'.. 80,000 Prussians on ditto 65,000 
 
 Western ditto 80,000 Lu.xembourg 20,000 
 
 South 60,000 Emigrants 12,000 
 
 780,000 337,000* 
 
 t Hard., ii., 522. Ann. Reg., 1794, p. 328, 330. Jom., 
 v., 34, 58. Th., vi., 270, 285. 
 
 Jom., v., i29, 32. Ann. Beg., 1794, 322. 
 
330 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 cannon and above four thousand men. While 
 this disaster was experienced on the left of the 
 French ai'ni}', their centre was not more success- 
 ful. They at first gained some advantages over 
 the corps of the Austrians, who there composed 
 the covering force ; but the latter having been re- 
 enforced and supported by a numerous artillery, 
 resumed the ofiensive, and repulsed the assail- 
 ants with great loss.* 
 
 But these advantages, how considerable soev- 
 n f f ^■'i '"''6i'6 counterbalanced by a severe 
 Ctofait check experienced by General Clair- 
 fait, whose corps formed the extreme 
 right of the allied line. On that side the Re- 
 publicans had assembled fifty thousand men, 
 under Souham and Moreau, which, on the 25th 
 of April, advanced against the Austrian forces. 
 Assailed by superior numbers, Clairfait was 
 driven back to Toumay, with the loss of thirty 
 pieces of cannon and twelve hundred prisoners. 
 His retreat seemed to render wholly desperate 
 the situation of a brigade of three thousand 
 Hanoverians, now shut up in Menin and soon 
 furiously bombarded. But their brave com- 
 mander, supported by the resolution of a large 
 body of Frencli emigrants who were attached 
 to his corps, resolved to cut his way through the 
 besiegers, and, through the heroic valour of his 
 followers, successfully accomplished his object. 
 Prince Cobourg, upon the intelligence of this 
 misfortune, detached the Duke of York to Tour- 
 nay to support Clairfait, and remained with the 
 rest of his forces in the neighbourhood of Lan- 
 drecy, to put that place in a state of defence.t 
 
 Convinced, by the failure of their attacks on 
 Jourdan order- the Centre of the allies, that their 
 ed up from the forces weie insufficient in that 
 Rhine to the quarter, the Committee of Public 
 Sambre. Safety, relying on the inactivity 
 
 and lukewarmness of the Prussians on the ex- 
 treme right, took the energetic resolution of order- 
 ing Jourdan to re-enforce the army of the Mo- 
 selle with fifteen thousand men draum from the 
 Rhine, and after leaving a corps of observation 
 at Luxembourg, to march with forty-five thou- 
 sand men upon the Ardenne Forest, and unite 
 himself to the army on the Sambre. This bold 
 resolution of strengthening to an overwhelming 
 degree what appeared the decisive point of the 
 long line of operations, and throwing ninety 
 thousand men on the extreme left of the enemy, 
 had a most important eflect on the future fate of 
 the campaign, and formed a striking contrast to 
 the measures of the allies, who deemed them- 
 selves insecure, even when meditating ofiensive 
 operations, unless the whole avenues of the coun- 
 tiy they occupied were equally guarded by de- 
 tached corps. The defection of Prussia, which 
 daily became more eWdent, prevented them from 
 obtaining any co-operation on the left flank to 
 counteract this change in the enemy's line of at- 
 tack, while even in their own part of the line 
 the movements were vacillating, and totally un- 
 worthy of the splendid force at their disposal.: 
 
 On the 10th of May, Clairfait, without any 
 Various in- co-operation from the other parts of 
 decisive ac- the line, crossed the Lys, and attack- 
 tionsonthe ed the Republican troops aroimd the 
 Sambre. town of Cambray. An obstinate en- 
 gagement ensued with various success, which 
 was continued on the succeeding day, without 
 any decisive advantage having been gained by 
 
 * Jom., v., 55, 57. Ann. Reg., 1794, p. 329. Th., vi., 
 286, 287. t Jom., v., 61, 62. Th., vi., 288, 289. 
 
 t Th., vi., 290. Jom., v., 62, 63. Hard., ii., 532. 
 
 either part}-. Four thousand men were lost on 
 each side, and the opposing forces remained 
 much where they had been at their commence- 
 ment : a striking proof of the murderous and in- 
 decisive nature of this warfare of posts, which, 
 without any adequate success, occasioned an in- 
 cessant consumption of human life.* 
 
 But the period was now approaching when the 
 genius of Carnot was to infuse a French driv- 
 new element into this indecisive war- en across the 
 fare. On the 10th of May, the French Sambre. 
 army on the Sambre crossed that river, with the 
 design of executing his plan of operations ; but the 
 allies having collected their forces to cover the 
 important city of Mons, and taken post at a for- 
 tified position at GrancU'engs, a furious battle en- 
 sued, which terminated in the Republicans be- 
 ing defeated and driven across the Sambre, with 
 the loss of ten pieces of cannon and four thou- 
 sand men. But the French having remained 
 masters of their bridges over the river, and being 
 urged by St. Just and Le Bas, again crossed on 
 the 20th, and returned to the charge. But they 
 preserved so bad a lookout, that on the 24th they 
 were surprised and completely routed „ . , ^ 
 by the Austrians under Prince Kan- 24th May. 
 nitz. The whole anny was flying in confusion 
 to the bridges, when Kleeer arrived in time, with 
 fresh troops, to arrest the victorious enemy, and 
 preserve his army from total destruction. As it 
 was, however, they were a second time driven 
 over the Sambre, with the loss of four thousand 
 men and twenty-five pieces of artillery.t 
 
 While blood was flowing in such torrents ou 
 the banks of the Sambre, events of .still 
 greater importance occurred in West xurcoinE 
 Flanders. The allies had there col- 
 lected ninety thousand men, including one hun- 
 dred and thirty-three squadrons, under the imme- 
 diate command of the emperor ; and the situa- 
 tion of the left viing of the French suggested the 
 design of cutting it otf from the main body of the 
 army, and forcing it back upon the sea, where it 
 could have no alternative but to surrender. For 
 this purpose, their troops were divided into six 
 columns, which were moved by concentric lines 
 on the French coi'ps posted at Turcoing. Had 
 they acted with more concert, and moved on a 
 better line, the attack would have been crowned 
 with the most splendid success ; but the old sys- 
 tem of dividing their forces made it ter- 
 minate in nothing but disaster. The ^^'"'"''J'- 
 different columns, some of which were separated 
 from each other bj' no less than twenty leagues, 
 did not arrive simultaneously at the point of at- 
 tack ; and, altliough each singly acted \'igorous- 
 ly when brought into action, there was not the- 
 unity in their operations requisite to succes.s. 
 Some inconsiderable advantages were gained 
 near Turcoing on the I7th, but the Republicans 
 having now concentrated their troops in a cen- 
 tral position, were enabled to fall M'ith an over- 
 whelming force on the insulated columns of 
 their adversaries. At three in the morning of 
 the I8th, General Souham, with forty-five thou- 
 sand, attacked the detached corps of General 
 Otto and the Duke of York, while another corps 
 of fifteen thousand advanced against them from 
 the side of Lisle; the first was defeated with 
 great loss; the latter, though it at first defend- 
 ed itself with vigour, finding its communica- 
 tion cut off with the remainder of the army, and 
 
 * Toul., iv., 320. Jom., v., 66. Th., vi., 291. 
 t Jom., v., 79, 83, 85. Toul., iv., 322. Th., vi., 293. 
 Ann. Reg., 1794, 331. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 331 
 
 iiUiTounded by a greatly superior force, disband- 
 ed and took to flight: a circumstance which ul- 
 timately proved fortunate, as, had they maintain- 
 ed their ground, they certainly would have been 
 made prisoners. So sudden was the rout, that 
 the Duke of York himself owed his safety to the 
 ileeiness of his horse; a circumstance which, 
 much to his credit, he had the candour to admit 
 in his official despatch. Such was the defect of 
 the combinations of Prince Cobourg, that at the 
 time that his central columns were thus over- 
 whelmed by an enormous mass of sixty thousand 
 men, the two coluimis on the left, amounting to 
 not less than thirty thousand, under the Arch- 
 duke Charles and Kinsky, remained in a state 
 of absolute inaction; and Clairfait, with seven- 
 teen thousand on the right, who came up too late 
 to take any active part in the engagement, was 
 obliged to retire after capturing seven pieces of 
 cannon : a poor compensation for the total rout 
 of the centre, and the moral disadvantages of a 
 defeat. In this action, where the allies lost three 
 thousand men and sixty pieces of cannon, the su- 
 periority of the French generalship was very ap- 
 parent ; inferior, upon the whole, to the number 
 of their opponents, they had greatly the advan- 
 tage in point of numbers at the point of attack ; 
 but, after having pierced the centre, tliey should 
 have reaped something more from their victory 
 than the bare possession of the field of battle.* 
 On the 22d of May, Pichegru, who now as- 
 sumed the command, renewed the attack 
 "^ "" Avith a force now raised by successive 
 additions to nearly 100,000 men, with the in- 
 tention of forcing the passage of the Scheldt, be- 
 sic'ging Toumay, and capturing a convoy which 
 was ascending that river. They at first succeed- 
 ed in driving in the outposts ; but a re-enforce- 
 ment of English troops, commanded by General 
 Fox, and seven Austrian battalions, having ar- 
 rived to support the Hanoverians in that quar- 
 P >, J t^r, a desperate and bloody conflict 
 s\v7 ncUonT.' ensued, in which the firmness of the 
 English at length prevailed over the 
 impetuosity of their adversaries, and the village 
 of Pont-a-chin, which was the point of contest 
 between them, finally remained in their hands. 
 The battle continued from five in the morning 
 till nine at night, when it terminated by a gener- 
 al charge of the allies, which drove the enemy 
 from the field.t In this battle, which M-as one 
 of the most obstinately contested of the campaign, 
 the French lost above six thousand men, but 
 such was the fatigue of the victors, after an en- 
 gagement of such severity and duration, that 
 they were unable to follow up their success. 
 Twenty thousand men had fallen on the two 
 sides in these murderous battles, but no decisive 
 advantage, and hardlv a foot of ground, had been 
 gained by either party.: 
 
 Finding that he could make no impression in 
 this quarter, Pichegni resolved to carry the the- 
 atre of war into We.st Flanders, wherethe coun- 
 try, intersected by hedges, was less favourable to 
 the allied cavalry, and he, in consequence, laid 
 siege to Ipres. About the same time, the emper- 
 
 * Jom., v., 86, 97, 98. Tout., iv., 322. Ann. Ree., 
 1794. 332. Th., vi.. 295, 296. Hard., li., 536-7. 
 
 t The Emperor Francis was on horseback for tivelve 
 hours during- this bloody day, incessantly traversing the 
 ranks, and animating the soldiers to continue their exer- 
 tions. " Courage, my friends," said he, when tliey appear- 
 ed almut to sink ; " yet a few more exertions, and the victo- 
 ry is our own." — Hard., ii., 538. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1794, p. 333. Jom., v., 98, 99-104. Th., 
 vi., 297. Hard., ii., 537, 538. 
 
 or conducted ten thousaud men in person to re- 
 enforce tJie army on the Sambre, and the right 
 wing of the allies, thus weakened, remained in a 
 defensive position near Toumay, which was for- 
 tified with the utmost care.* 
 
 The indecisive result of these bloody actions, 
 which clearly demonstrated the great strength of 
 the Republicans, and the desperate strife which 
 awaited the allies in any attempt to conquer a 
 country abounding in .such defenders, produced 
 an important change in the Austrian councils. 
 Thugut, who was essentially patriotic in his 
 ideas, and reluctantly embarked in any contest 
 which did not evidently conduce to the advan- 
 tage of the hereditary states, had long nourished 
 a secret aversion to the war in Flanders. He 
 could not disguise from himself that these prov- 
 inces, how opulent and important soever in 
 themselves, contributed little to the real strength 
 of the monarchy: that their situation, far remo- 
 ved from Austria, and close to France, rendered 
 it highly probable that they would, at some no 
 very distant period, become the prey of that en- 
 terprising power; and that the charge of defend- 
 ing them at so great a distance from Vienna en- 
 tailed an enonnous and ruinous expense upon 
 the imperial finances. Impressed with these 
 idea.s, he had for some time been revolving in 
 his mind the project of abandoning these distant 
 provinces to their fate, and looking out for a 
 compensation to Austria in Italy or Bavaria, 
 where its new acquisition might lie adjacent to 
 the hereditaiy states. This long remained a fix- 
 ed principle in the imperial councils; and in 
 these vague ideas is to be found the remote cause 
 of the treaty of Campo-Formio and partition of 
 Venice.t 
 
 Two days after the battle of Turcoing, a coun- 
 cil of -state was secretly held at the ^ .. „. 
 Imperial headquarters, "to deliberate ^^ > i-y*- 
 on the measures to be pursued for the future 
 progress of the war. The opportunity appeared 
 favourable to that able statesman to bring for- 
 M-ard his favourite project. The inactivity and 
 lukewarmness of the Prussians, notwithstanding 
 the English subsidy, too plainly demonstrated 
 that no reliance could be placed "on their co-op- 
 eration ; the recent desperate actions in West 
 Flanders sufficientl)'- proved that no serious im- 
 pression was to be made in that quarter; while 
 the reluctance of the Flemish states to contribute 
 anything to the common cause, and the evident 
 partiality of a large party among them for the 
 French alliance, rendered it a matter of great 
 doubt whether it was expedient for such distant, 
 fickle, and disafiected subjects to maintain any 
 longer a contest which, if unsuccessful, might 
 ingulf half the forces of the monarchy. These 
 considerations were forcibly impressed upon the 
 mind of the young emperor, who, born and bred 
 in Tuscany, entertained no partiality for his dis- 
 tant Flemish possessions ; Mack supported them 
 with all the weight of his opinion, and strongly 
 urged that it was better to retire altogether across 
 the Rhine, while 3'et the strength of the army 
 was unbroken, than nm the risk of its being 
 buried in the fields of Belgium. If Flanders 
 was of such value to the cause of European in- 
 dependence, it lay upon England, Prussia, and 
 Holland, in the centre of whose dominions it lay, 
 to provide measures for its defence ; but the real 
 interests of Austria lay nearer home, and her 
 battalions required to be seen in dense array on 
 
 * Jom., v., 104. Tout., iv., 322. t Hard., ii., 539, 540. 
 
332 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 the maritime Alps or on the shores of the Vistu- 
 la, where vast and fertile provinces were about 
 to fall a prey to her ambitious neighbours. 
 Should affairs in that quarter assume a favour- 
 able aspect, and the revolutionary fervour of the 
 Republic exhaust itsell', it would apparently be 
 no difficult matter to recover the Belgic provin- 
 ces, as Dumourier had done in the preceding 
 campaign ; or if this should unhappily prove im- 
 possible, it was much more likely that a success- 
 ful defensive war could be maintained with the 
 resources of the Empire concentrated round its 
 heart, than when they were so largely accumu- 
 lated in a distant possession : or if peace became 
 desirable, it could at any time be readily pur- 
 chased by the cession of provinces so valuable 
 to France, and the acquisition of an equivalent 
 nearer the Austrian dominions.* 
 
 The subject was debated with the deliberation 
 which its importance deserv^ed ; and it was at 
 length determined by the majority of the council, 
 that the maintenance of so burdensome and haz- 
 ardous a war for such disaffected and distinct 
 possessions was contrary to the vital interests 
 of the state. It was resolved, accordingly, that 
 the imperial troops should, as soon as decency 
 Avould permit, be withdrawn from Flanders ; that 
 this resolution should, in the mean time, be kept 
 a profound secret ; and to cover the honour of 
 the imperial arms, a general battle should be 
 hazarded, and on its issue should depend the 
 course which should thereafter be adopted; but 
 that, in the mean time, the emperor should forth- 
 with depart for Vienna, to take cognizance of the 
 affairs of Poland, which called for instant atten- 
 tion. In confonnity with this resolution, he set 
 out shortly after, leaving Cobourg in command 
 of the army.t 
 
 Meanwhile, the commissioners of the conven- 
 Fiench again tioHj little anticipating the favoura- 
 cross the Sam- ble tum which their affairs were 
 bre. May 26th. about to take from ttie divisions ol 
 the allies, nothing daunted by the reverses the 
 army of the Sambre had experienced, were con- 
 tinually stimulating its generals to fresh exer- 
 tions. In vain they represented that the soldiers, 
 worn out with fatigue, without shoes, without 
 clothing, stood much in need of repose : " To- 
 morrow," said St. Just, " the Republic must have 
 a victory; choose between a battle and a siege." 
 Constrained by authorities who enforced their 
 arguments with the guillotine, the Republican 
 generals prepared for a third expedition across 
 the Sambre. Towards the end of May, Kleber 
 made the attempt with troops still exhausted by 
 fatigue, and almost starving; the consequences 
 Avere such as might have been expected: the 
 grenadiers were repulsed by the grapeshot of the 
 enemy, and General Duhesme was routed with 
 little difficulty. On the QQth, however, the in- 
 domitable P^epublicans returned to the charge, 
 and after an obstinate engagement, succeeded in 
 forcing back the Imperialists, and immediately 
 formed the investment of Charleroi. But the ar- 
 rival of the emperor with ten thousand troops, 
 having raised the allied force in that quarter to 
 Invest Charle- thirty-five thousand men, it was re- 
 roi aud are solved to make an effort to raise the 
 driven back, siege before Jourdan arrived with 
 Jane 3. jfjg army of the Moselle, who was 
 
 hourly expected. The attack was made on the 
 3d of June, and attended with complete success, 
 the French having been driven across the Sam- 
 
 Hard., ii., 539-&43. 
 
 t Hard., ii., 543, 545. 
 
 bre, with the loss of two thousand men. But 
 this check was of little importance ; on the day 
 following, Jourdan arrived from the Moselle with 
 forty thousand fresh troops.* 
 
 This great re-enforcement, thrown into the 
 scale when the contending parties Arrival of 
 were so nearly balanced, was deci- jcjurdan with 
 sive of the fate of the campaign, and 40,000 men. 
 proves the sagacity with which Camot acted in 
 accumulating an overwhelming force on this 
 point. In a few days the Republicans ,„ , . 
 recrossed the liver with sixty thousand 
 men, resumed the siege of Charleroi, and soon 
 destroyed a strong redoubt which constituted the 
 principal defence of the besieged. The immi- 
 nent danger to which the city was reduced by the 
 attack of this great Ibrce, induced the allies to 
 make the utmost efforts to raise the „ , , 
 siege. But this required no less skill 
 than intrepidity, for their army did not exceed 
 thirty-five thousand men, while the French were 
 nearly double that number. On this occasion, 
 the system of attack by detached columns was 
 successful; the Republicans were pierced by a 
 concentric effort of two of their columns, defeat- 
 ed, and driven over the Sambre, with the loss 
 of three thousand men. This success, highly 
 honourable as it was to the Austrian arms, 
 proved, in the end, prejudicial to their cause, as 
 it induced Prince Cobourg to suppo.se that his 
 left wing was now sufficiently secure, and to de- 
 tach all his disposable troops to the succoirr of 
 Clairfait and Ipres on the right, whereas it was 
 against the other flank that the principal forces 
 of the Republicans were now directed.t 
 
 In effect, on the I8th of June, the French army 
 recrossed the Sambre for the fifth, ganibre again 
 and commenced the bombardment crossed and 
 of Charleroi for the third time. The Charleroi re- 
 great force with which this attack '"tested, 
 was made amounting to seventy thousand men, 
 rendered it evident that Prince Cobourg had mis- 
 taken the point which required support, and that 
 it was on the Sambre, and under the walls of 
 Charleroi, that the decisive battle for the protec- 
 tion of Flanders was to be fought. Accordingly, 
 the major part of the allied forces were at length 
 moved in that direction ; the Duke of York, with 
 the English and Hanoverians, being left alone 
 on the Scheldt, at a short distance separation of 
 from Clairfait, who had recently ex- the Austrians 
 perienced the most overwhelming and English, 
 reverses. This separation of the forces of the 
 two nations contributed not a little to augment 
 the misunderstanding Avhich already prevailed 
 between them, and was the forenmner of num- 
 berless disasters to both monarchies.! 
 
 No sooner was the departure of the emperor 
 with re-enforcements to the army on the pichegru 
 Sambre known to Pichegru, than he re- attacks 
 solved to take advantage of the weakness Clairfait. 
 of his adversaries, by prosecuting seriously the 
 long menaced siege of Ipres. Clairfait, not feel- 
 ing himself in sufficient strength to interrupt his 
 operations, remained firm in his intrenched camp 
 at Thielt. An attempted movement of the centre 
 of the allied army to his support having been 
 betrayed to the enemy at Lisle, was prevented 
 from being carried into effect by a demonstration 
 from the French centre by Pichegru. The con- 
 sequence was, that the Austrian general was 
 compelled to attack alone ; and though his corps 
 
 * TouL, iv., 322. .Tom., v., 103, 109, 113. 
 
 t .lom., v., 132. Th., vi., 395. Ann. Re?., 1794, 333. 
 
 t lom., v., 133. Th., vi., 397. Ann. Re^., 1794, 333. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 333 
 
 fought with their wonted valour, he was again 
 worsted, and compelled to resume his position in 
 his intrenchments, without having disturl)ed the 
 operations of the siege. This was the fifth time 
 that this brave officer had fought alone, while 
 
 thirty thousand Austrians lay inactive 
 17tU June. ^^ Tournay, and six thousand English 
 were reposing from the fatigues of their sea voy- 
 age at Ostend. The consequence was, that Ipres 
 capitulated a few days after, and its garrison, 
 consisting of six thousand men, were made pris- 
 oners of war. Coboiu-g made a tardy movement 
 for its relief, but, hearing of its fall, returned on 
 the 19th to Tournay.* 
 
 The Austrians having now, in pursuance of 
 June 22 The ^^^^^ P^^^ of wilhtli'awing from Flan- 
 Imperiaiists ders, finally detached themselves 
 assemble to from the English, moved all their 
 succour Char- forces towards their left wing, with 
 ''™'' a view to succour Charleroi, which 
 
 was severely pressed by Jourdan. On the 22d 
 Prince Cobourg joined his left wing; but, though 
 their united forces were seventy-five thousand 
 strong, he delayed till the 26th to attack the French 
 army. Jourdan, who was fully aware of the im- 
 portance of acquiring this fortress, took advan- 
 tage of the respite which this delay aflbrded him 
 to prosecute the siege with the utmost activity. 
 
 This he did with such success, that the 
 ' ""®" batteries of the besieged having been 
 silenced, the place capitulated on the evening of 
 the 25th. Hardly had the garrison left the gates, 
 when the discharge of artillery announced the 
 tardy movement of the Austrians for its relief 
 
 The battle took place on the following 
 ~ ' """■ day, on the plains of Fleurus, already 
 .signalized by a victory of Marshal Luxembourg 
 in 1690, and was one of the most important ot 
 the whole war.t 
 
 The French army, which was eighty-nine 
 thousand strong, was posted in a semi- 
 Fieur^us. circle round the town of Charleroi, now 
 become, instead of a source of weakness, 
 a pcd7it d'appiti to the Republicans. Their posi- 
 tion very nearly resembled that of Napoleon at 
 Leipsic ; but the superiority of force on that oc- 
 casion secured a very difl^erent result to the allies 
 from that which now awaited their arms. The 
 Imperialists, adhering to their system of attack- 
 ing the enemy at all points, divided their forces 
 into five columns, intending to assail at the same 
 moment all parts of the Republican position : a 
 mode of attack at all times hazardous, but espe- 
 cially so when an inferior is engaged with a su- 
 perior Ibrce. The battle commenced on the 26th, 
 at daybreak, and continued with great vigour 
 throughout the whole day.; 
 
 The first column, under the command of the 
 Prince of Orange, attacked the left of the French 
 under General Montaigu, and drove them back 
 to the village of Fontaine Leveque ; but the Re- 
 publicans being there re-enforced by i'resh troops, 
 succeeded in maintaining their ground, and re- 
 pulsed the repeated charges of the imperial cav- 
 alry. During a successful charge, however, the 
 French horse were themselves assailed by the 
 Austrian cuirassiers, and driven back in confu- 
 sion upon the infantry, who gradually lost 
 ground, and at length "were compelled to fall 
 back to the heights in front of Charleroi. The 
 moment was critical, for the Austrians were on 
 
 ' Ann. Re^., 1794, p. 334. Jom., \., 119, 121, 134. Th., 
 vi., 393, 394. 
 t Jom., v., 137. Ann. Reg.. 1794. 334. Th., \i., 395,396. 
 t Jom., v., 138. Th., vi., 399, 400. Toul., iv., 328. 
 
 the point of carrying the village of Marchiennes- 
 au-Pont, which would have intercepted the whole 
 communications of the Republican army ; but 
 Jourdan, alarmed at the advance of the enemy 
 in this quarter, moved up Kleber to support his 
 left. That intrepid general hastily erected sev- 
 eral batteries to meet the enemy's fire, and moved 
 forward Bernadotte, at the head of several bat- 
 talions, to the support of Montaigu. The allies, 
 under Latour and the Prince of Orange, being 
 unsupported by the remainder of the army, and 
 finding themselves vigorously assailed both in 
 front and flank, fell back from their advanced 
 position, and before four in the afternoon, all the 
 ground gained in that quarter had been aban- 
 doned.* 
 
 While these events were going forward on the 
 left, the centre, where the village of Fleurus was 
 occupied by sixteen thousand troops, and strong- 
 ly strengthened by intrenchments, was the scene 
 of an obstinate conflict. The attack in front of 
 the allies was successfully repulsed, after passing 
 the village, by the fire of artillery on the neights 
 in the rear; but General Beaulieu, with the left 
 wing of the allies, having attacked and carried 
 the post of Lambusart on the French right, the 
 Republicans on the left were compelled to give 
 way ; and the important post of Fleurus, with its 
 great redoubt, stood prominent in the midst of the 
 allied forces, exposed to attack both in front and 
 flank. The consequence of this was, that the 
 great redoubt was on the point of being taken, 
 and the French divisions in the centre were al- 
 ready in full retreat, when Jourdan hastened to 
 the scene of danger with six battalions, who were 
 formed in clo.se columns, and checked the ad- 
 vance of the enemy. The French cavalry, under 
 Dubois, made a furious charge upon the imperial 
 infantry, ovetthrew them, and captured filfy 
 pieces of cannon ; but, being disordered by their 
 rapid advance, they were immediately alter at- 
 tacked by the Austrian cuirassiers, who not only 
 routed the victors, but retook the whole artillery, 
 and drove them back in confusion upon their 
 own lines.t 
 
 Meanwhile, the allied left, under Beaulieu, 
 made the most brilliant progress. After various 
 attacks, the village of Lambusart was carried, 
 and the enemy's forces, for the most part, driven 
 across the Sambre ; but the vigorous fire of the 
 French artillerj' prevented the allies from de- 
 bouching from the village, or obtaining complete 
 success in that quarter. As it was, however, the 
 situation of the Republicans was disadvantage- 
 ous in every quarter. The right, under Moreau, 
 was driven back, and in great part had recrossed 
 the river; the left, under Montaigu, had aban- 
 doned the field of battle, and almost entirely gone 
 over to the other bank, while the forces in the 
 centre had been in part compelled to recede, and 
 the great redoubt was in danger of being carried. 
 Four divisions only, those of Lefeb\Te, Cham- 
 pionet, Kleber, and Daurier, were in a condition 
 to make head against the enemy, when Coboiu"g, 
 hearing of the fall of Charleroi, or- Alhes retreat, 
 dered a retreat at all points. With- thoug-h not de- 
 out detracting from the merit of Jour- feated. 
 dan, it may safely be aflirmed, that if the Prince 
 of Orange, instead of drawing back his wing 
 when he found it too far advanced, had united 
 with the centre to attack Fleurus and the main 
 body of the French army, while Beaulieu pressed 
 
 * Jom., v., 143. Tout., iv., 329, 330. Th., vi., 399, 401. 
 t Jom., v., 145, 146, 149. Toul., iv., 332. Th., vi., 401. 
 
334 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 them on the other side, the success would have 
 been rendered complete, and a glorious victory 
 achieved.* 
 
 But nothing is so perilous as to evince any 
 tymploms of vacillation alter a general engage- 
 ment. The battle of Flcurus was, in fact, a 
 drawn battle ; tlie loss on both sides was nearly 
 equal, being between four thousand and five thou- 
 sand men to each side ; the French had given 
 way on both wings, the centre with difficulty 
 maintained its ground, and the Imperialists only 
 retreated because the lall of Charleroi had remo- 
 ved the object for which they fought ; and the 
 secret instructions of their general precluded him 
 from adopting any course, how brilliant and in- 
 viting soever, which promised to be attended 
 with any hazard to the army : nevertheless, it 
 was attended with the most disastrous consequen- 
 ces. The loss of Flanders immediately followed 
 a contest which an enterprising general would 
 have converted into a triumph.t 
 
 Cobourg retired to Nivelles, and soon after 
 took post at Mont St. Jolm and Waterloo, at 
 the entrance of the forest of Soignies, little dream- 
 ing of the glorious event which, under a firmer 
 commander, and with the forces of a very differ- 
 ently united alliance, were there destined to coun- 
 terbalance all the evils of which his indecision 
 formed the commencement. Two days after- 
 ward the French issued from their intrench- 
 ments round Charleroi, and defeated the allied 
 rear-guard at Mont Paliul, which fell back to 
 Braine le Comte. Mons was shortly after evac- 
 uated, and the allies, abandoning the whole for- 
 tresses which they had conquered to their own 
 resources, concentrated in front of Brussels. 
 Several actions took place in the be- 
 ginning of July between the rear- 
 guard of the allies and the French columns at 
 Mont St. John, Braine la Leude, and Sambre ; 
 but at length, finding himself unable to maintain 
 his position without concentrating his forces. 
 Prince Cobourg abandoned Brussels, and fell 
 back behind the Dyle.t 
 
 _ It was not without the most strenuous exer- 
 tions of the British government to prevent them 
 that these ruinous divisions broke out among the 
 allied powers in Flanders. Immediately after 
 the treaty of the 19th of April was signed. Lord 
 Malmesbury, the English ambassador, set out 
 from the Hague for Maestricht, where conferences 
 "were opened with the Prussian minister Haug- 
 witz and the Dutch plenipotentiaries. Their ob- 
 ject was to induce the Prussian forces to leave 
 the banks of thfe Rhine, and hasten to the scene 
 of decisive operations in Flanders. These requi- 
 sitions were so reasonable, and so strictly in uni- 
 son with the letter as well as spirit of the recent 
 treaty, that the Prussian minister could not avoid 
 agreeing to them, and engaged to procure orders 
 from the cabinet of Berlin to that effect. But 
 Moellendorf, acting in obedience to secret orders 
 from his court, declined to obey the requisition 
 of the plenipotentiaries, and engaged in a fruit- 
 less and feigned expedition towards Kayserslau- 
 tem and Sarre Louis, at the veiy time that he 
 ■was well aware that Jourdan, with forty thou- 
 sand men, was hastening by forced marches to 
 the decisive point on the banks of the Sambre.§ 
 When the danger became more threatening, 
 and the emperor himself had hastened to the 
 
 * Jom., v., 150, 152. Th., vi., 401, 402. Toul., iv., 332. 
 t Hard., iii., 23, 24. Jom., v., 152. Th., vi., 405, 406. 
 i Jom., v., 152. 162. Toul., iv., 336. 
 4 Hard., ii., 545. 547. 
 
 July 6 and ' 
 
 neighbourhood of Charleroi to make head against 
 the accumulating masses of the Republicans, the 
 same requisitions were renewed in a still more 
 pressing strain by the English and Dutch minis- 
 ters.* But it was all in vain. The Prussian 
 general betook himself to one subterfuge after 
 another, alleging that, by menacing Sarre Louis 
 and Landau, he succoured the common cause 
 more effectually than if he brought his whole for- 
 ces to the walls of Charleroi, and at length per- 
 emptorily refused to leave the banks of the Rhine. 
 The ministers of the maritime powers upon this 
 broke out into bitter complaints at the breach of 
 faith on the part of the Prussian government, and 
 reproached the marshal with a fact which they 
 had recently discovered, that, instead of sixty- 
 two thousand men stipulated by the treaty and 
 paid for by the allies, only thirty-two thousand 
 received daily rations at the army. Moellendorf 
 denied the charge ; recriminations ensued on both 
 sides, and at length they separated mutually exas- 
 perated; and Lord Cornwallis declared he would 
 suspend the payment of the British subsidy.t 
 
 After the departtire of Cobourg from Tournay, 
 the allies strove in vain to contend with p^^, 
 the superiority of the Republicans in drives^back 
 maritime Flanders. Tournay was Clairfait in 
 evacuated; and while Pichegru him- West Flan- 
 self marched upon Ghent to force back *"^^" 
 Clairfait, he detached Moreau with a consider- 
 able force to form the siege of the places border- 
 ing on the ocean. Nieuport capitulated; Fort 
 Ecluse, the key of the Scheldt, was blockaded; 
 and the island of Cadsand overrun by the Repub- 
 licans, who crossed the arm of the sea which sep- 
 arated it from the mainland by swimming. 
 Clairfait, although re-enforced by six thousand 
 English, who had marched from Ostend under 
 Lord Moira, found himself unable to make head 
 against Pichegru ; the old German tactics of car- 
 lying on war by a series of positions, which suc- 
 ceeded against the inconsiderable forces of Prus- 
 sia even when guided by the genius of Frederic, 
 totally failed when opposed to the vehement ar- 
 dour and inexhaustible numbers of the Revolu- 
 tionary armies. After in vain attempting, j^j ^ 
 in conjunction with Cobourg, to cover ^ 
 Brussels, he was compelled to fall back behind 
 the Dyle, while the Duke of York also retired 
 in the same direction, and encamped between 
 Malines and Louvain.t 
 
 The retreat of the allied forces enabled the vic- 
 torious armies of Pichegru and Jour- j^, jq 
 dan to unite their forces at Brussels, piche^u and 
 where they met on the 10th of July. Jourdan ad- 
 And thus, by a series of energetic ^ancetoBms- 
 movements and glorious contests, ^"^ ^' 
 were two armies, which a .short time before had 
 left the extremities of the vast line extending 
 from Philipville to Dunkirk, enabled to unite 
 their victorious forces for the occupation of the 
 capital of Flanders.§ 
 
 The Austrian cabinet at this period entertain- 
 ed serious thoughts of peace. The opinion was 
 very general on the Continent that the fearful 
 energy and bloody proscriptions of Robespierre 
 had considerably calmed the effervescence of the 
 Revolution, and that his stem and relentless hand 
 
 * " It IS not for nothing," said Lord Cornwallis, and Kinck- 
 p\, the Dutch minister, " that we pay you our subsidies, nor 
 in order that the subsidized power should employ the paid 
 forces for their own purposes. If the Prussian troops do not 
 act for the common cause, they depart from the chief object 
 of the treaty."— Hard., lii., 65. t Hard., iii., 5, 6, 7. 
 
 t Jom., v., 155, 162. Th., w., 406. Toul., iv., 334,335. 
 
 <) Jom., v., 162. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 335 
 
 was alone adequate to restrain its excesses, and 
 restore anything like a regular government at 
 Paris. These ideas received a strong confinna- 
 tion from the speech which he delivered on oc- 
 casion of the I'&tc of the Supreme Being : it was 
 known that lie had moderated many of the ener- 
 getic plans of foreign invasion projected byCar- 
 not, and that his brother liad used his inlluence 
 to preserve Piedmont and the north of Italy li'om 
 an incursion at a time wlien the allies were lit- 
 tle in a condition to have resisted it. The impe- 
 rial government was really desirous of an accom- 
 modation, in order to concentrate their armies 
 and attention upon Poland, which was hourly 
 approaching the crisis of its fate; and a large 
 force had already entered Gallicia, where they 
 professed their intention of coming as deliverei's, 
 and were received with open arms by the people 
 of that province. Unable to bear, any more than 
 Prussia, the weight of a double contest on the 
 Rhine and the Vistula, and deeming the latter 
 more material to the interests of the monarchy 
 than the former, they had delinitively determined 
 at Vienna on the abandonment of the Belgian 
 provinces, and were now only desirous of extri- 
 cating them.selves from a contest in which neither 
 honour nor profit was to be gained. A secret un- 
 derstanding, in consequence, took place between 
 Cobourg and the French generals, the conditions 
 of which were, that the Austrians should not be 
 disquieted in their retreat to the Rhine, and the 
 Republicans permitted, without molestation to 
 reduce the four great fortresses which they had 
 wrested from the Republic in the preceding and 
 present campaign. The fall of Robespierre pre- 
 vented these overtures from coming to any far- 
 ther issue ; but they early attracted the attention 
 of the vigilant minister who directed the affairs 
 of Great Britain, and he urged his ambassador 
 to make the strongest remonstrances against a 
 step so prejudicial to the interests of Europe. 
 But the Austrians were resolute in their deter- 
 mination to abandon Flanders, alleging as a rea- 
 son the inconstancy and disaffection of its inhab- 
 itants. " To behold a people so infatuated," 
 said Count Metternich to Lord Cornwallis, "as, 
 notwithstanding the most pressing exhortations 
 to take up arms in defence of their religion, their 
 independence and property, refuse to move, and 
 voluntarily place their necks under the yoke, 
 singing Ca Ira, was a phenomenon reserved for 
 these days of desolation."* 
 
 The English forces were now posted behind 
 the Canal of Malines, and they amounted to above 
 thirty thousand British and Hanoverians, and 
 fifteen thousand Dutch. Their object was, by 
 remaining on the defensive, to rnvcr Antwerp 
 and Holland, while the Austrians retired by 
 Tirlemont upon Liege. In this way, while the 
 Republicans remained with the centre at Brus- 
 sels, and their wings extending from Wilworde 
 to Namur, their adversaries retired by diverging 
 lines towards the north and south, and every suc- 
 cessive day's march eaiTied them farther from 
 each other ; a state of affairs of all others the 
 most calamitous, in presence of an enterprising 
 English retire enemy. The English were intent 
 towards Hoi- only on covering Antwerp and Hol- 
 iiind. land; the Imperialists on drawing 
 
 nearer to their resources at Cologne and Co- 
 blentz; neither recollected that, bv separating 
 their forces, they gave the enemy the means of 
 crushing either, separately, at pleasure, and left 
 
 Hard., iii., 7, 33. 
 
 him in possession of a salient position,* which 
 would soon render both the provinces of the 
 Lower Rhine and the United States untenable. 
 
 Contrary to all expectation, and in opposition 
 to what might have been expected 
 from the previous energy of their JJ!*f'^''V^ 
 measures, the Committee of Public ^""^ * ''''""=''• 
 Safety arrested their army in the career of vic- 
 tory, and paralyzed 150,000 men in possession 
 of an internal line of communication, at the mo- 
 ment when their enemies were disunited, and in- 
 caj^able of rendering each other any assistance. 
 This was the result of the secret understanding 
 Avith Prince Cobourg. On the 15th of July the 
 Canal of Malines was forced, after an incon- 
 siderable resistance by the Dutch troops, and 
 the Duke of York retired to Antwerp, which was 
 soon after evacuated, and his wliole forces con- 
 centrated towards Breda for the defence of Hol- 
 land. On the other wing, Jomdan pursued his 
 advantages against Cobourg; and after several 
 inconsiderable engagements with the rear-guard, 
 Liege and Tongres were evacuated, and the 
 Austrians retired behind the Meuse. But, with 
 these exceptions, nothing Avas attempted by the 
 Republicans for several weeks, while the govern- 
 ment wailed the reduction of Valenciennes and 
 the other places captured by the allies on the 
 frontier at the commencement of the war.t 
 
 To hasten their reduction, a bloody decree was 
 passed by the convention, ordaining pg^^^g „f ^-^^ 
 their commanders to give no quar- convention to 
 ter to any garrison which should not give no quar- 
 surrender within twenty-four hours *^''- 
 after the lirst summons. The humanity of the 
 Republican generals refused to carry this atro- 
 cious decree into execittion, and it was soon 
 after rendered nugatory by the fall of Robes- 
 pierre on the 28th of July (9th Thermidor). The 
 governor of Conde, when summoned to sur- 
 render in virtue of this atrocious decree, replied, 
 " That one nation had no right to decree the dis- 
 honour of another nation ;" and the Committee 
 of Public Safety, under Camot's direction, feel- 
 ing the iniquity of the measure, took advantage 
 of fictitious delays to allow the garrisons to ca- 
 pitulate on the usual tenns. General Scherer 
 collected a body of troops from the interior and 
 the neighbouring garrisons, and formed the siege 
 successively of Landrecy, Cluesnoy, Conde, and 
 Valenciennes, all of which fell, after a trifling 
 resistance, before the end of August.j 
 
 At the same time, a decree was passed by the 
 convention prohibiting their armies from ., „» 
 giving quarter to the English who might ^^ " 
 fall into their hands. " Republican soldiers," 
 said Barere, "you mu.st, when victory shall put 
 into your power either English or Hanoverians, 
 strike without mercy; not one of them ought to 
 return to the traitorous territory of England, or 
 to be brought into France. Let the English 
 slaves perish, but let Europe be free." To this 
 decree the Duke of York replied, by an order of 
 the day, ordering all French captives to be treat- 
 ed with the same humanity as before. § This 
 
 - Jom.. v., 162, 165. Tout., iv. 338. 
 
 t Tuul., iv., 338. Join., v., 170, 172, 174. 
 
 t Toul., iv., 33S. Jem., v., 172. Th., vi., 74. 
 
 I) He stated in that noble document, " The National Con- 
 vention has just passed a decree that their soldiers shall 
 give no quaiter to the British or Hanoverian troops. His 
 royal highness anticipates the indignation and horror 
 which has naturaUy arisen in the minds of the brave troops 
 whom he addresses upon receiving this information. He 
 desires, however, to remind them that mercy to the van- 
 quished is the brightest gem in a soldier's character, and 
 exhorts them not to suffer their resentment to lead thejn to 
 
336 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 generous conduct had the desired effect ; the hu- 
 mane eflbrts of the English commanders were 
 seconded by the corresponding feelings of the 
 French officers, and the prisoners on both sides 
 were treated with the same humanity as before 
 the issuing of the bloody decree.* 
 
 While the fortune of war, after a desperate 
 
 struggle, was thus decisively incli- 
 &tme'°" ^i"? ^° ''^^ Republican side on the 
 
 northern, events of minor impor- 
 tance, but still, upon the whole, favourable to the 
 French arms, occurred on the eastern and south- 
 ern frontier. The dubious conduct, or, rather, 
 evident defection of Prussia, paralyzed all the op- 
 erations on the Rhine. Sixtj' thousand Pnis- 
 sians and Saxons were assembled round May- 
 ence and along the Nahe ; and the departure of 
 Jourdan, with forty thousand, to re-enforce the 
 anijy on the Sambre, offered the fairest opportu- 
 nity of resuming oflensive operations with a pre- 
 ponderating force on the Moselle. Only two di- 
 visions at a distance from each other remained 
 between Thionville and Kayserslautem ; and, 
 though the government made the greatest exer- 
 tions to re-enforce them, the utmost that could be 
 done was to raise the one to twenty, and the oth- 
 er to ten thousand men. Nor was the superior- 
 ity less decisive on the Upper Rhine, where fifty 
 thousand Imperialists formed the cordon from 
 Bale to Mayence; and seventy thousand more 
 were prepared for active operations, while the 
 force in the field, under General Michaud, to op- 
 pose them, was only thirty-six thousand, support- 
 ed by fifty thousand still retained in garrison by 
 the cautious policy of the French government. 
 
 Yet, with this immense superioritv 
 thrPnlssians. of force, the allies did nothing. In'- 
 
 stead of assembling, as they might 
 easily have done, eighty thousand men to "at- 
 tack the centre of the French lines on the Rhine, 
 and relieve the pressure which operated so se- 
 verely on the Sambre, they contented themselves 
 with detaching a small force to dislodge the Re- 
 publican post at Morlautem. A slight advan- 
 tage was gained at Kayserslautem over the Re- 
 May 23 1794 Publican division intrusted Avith the 
 ' ' defence of the gorges ; and General 
 Michaud, unable to make head against such su- 
 perior forces, retired to the intrenchments of the 
 Clueich, while the army of the Moselle resumed 
 the positions it had occupied at the close of the 
 preceding campaign. Shortly after, Michaud re- 
 ceived powerful re-enforcements, and made vig- 
 orous preparations for resuming the offensive ; 
 while the British ambassador made vain attempts 
 to stimulate the King of Prussia to execute the 
 
 any precipitate act of cruelty on their part which may sully 
 the reputation thej- have acquired in the world. In all the 
 wars which, from the earliest times, have existed between 
 the English and French nations, they have been accustomed 
 to consider each other in the light of g-enerous as well as 
 brave enemies ; while the Hanoverians, the allies of the 
 former, have shared for above a century in this mutual es- 
 teem. Humanity and kindness have at all times taken place 
 the instant that opposition ceased, and the same cloak has 
 been frequently seen covering those who were wounded, 
 friends and enemies, while indiscriminately conveyed tn the 
 hospitals of the conquerors. The British and Hanoverian 
 armies will not believe that the French nation, even under 
 their present infatuation, can so far forget their character 
 as soldiers as to pay any attention to a decree as injurious 
 to themselves as it is disgraceful to their government ; and 
 therefore his royal highness trusts that the soldiers of both 
 nations will confine their sentiments of abhorrence to the 
 National Convention alone, persuaded that they will be 
 joined in them by every Frenchman who possesses one 
 spark of honour, or one principle of a soldier." — Ann. Rpg., 
 1794. State Papers, p. 169. 
 ♦ Ann. Reg., 1794, 145. History. Th., vii., 74. 
 
 part assigned him in the treaty of the Hague. 
 The whole attention of Pnissia was fixed on Po- 
 land, and the movements of General Kosciusko; 
 and nothing could induce its government to give 
 any directions for the prosecution of the war on 
 the" Rhine till after the fall of Charleroi, the bat- 
 tle of Fleurus, and the re-enforcement of the Re- 
 publican armies on the Rhine had rendered it 
 impossible to resume the offensive with any pros- 
 pect of advantage.* 
 
 In the south, the reduction of Lyons and Tou- 
 lon, by rendering disposable the for- 
 ces employed in the siege of these Operations in 
 cities, gave an early and decisive su- '^ '""'^'' 
 periority to the Republican arms. The levies 
 ordered in September, 1793, had brought such an 
 accession of strength to their forces, tiiatin the mid- 
 dle of April the army of the Alps amounted to sev- 
 enty-five thousand combatants. Piedmont, men- 
 aced with invasion by this formidable force, had 
 only at its command a body of forty thousand men, 
 spread over a chain of posts along the summit of 
 the Alps, from Savona to Mont Blanc, and an 
 auxiliary Austrian force, ten thousand strong, iu 
 the interior. The great superiority of the French 
 forces would have enabled them to have instant- 
 ly commenced the invasion of Italy ; but, pressed 
 in other quarters, the Committee of Public Safe- 
 ty, under the directions of Robespierre, contented 
 themselves with enjoining their commanders to 
 drive the enemy over the Alps, and get posses- 
 sion of all the passes, leaving to a future year 
 the long-wished-for irruption into the Italian 
 provinces. T 
 
 The first operations of the Republicans were not 
 successful. General Sarret, with a ^^^^ cenis is 
 detachment of two thousand men, carried by the 
 was repulsed at the Little St. Ber- French, 
 nard, wliile the column destined for the attack of 
 the Mont Cenis was also unsuccessful. 
 Far from being discouraged with these '^'^'■<='» 24. 
 trifling reverses. General Dumas returned to the 
 charge with more considerable forces, 
 and on the 23d of April, after a vigorous -^-P'^'^^s. 
 resistance, made himself ma.ster of the first pass, 
 which was followed on the 14th of May 
 by the capture of the second. The loss ^^ 
 of Mont Cenis cost the Sardinians six hundred 
 prisoners and twenty pieces of cannon. By these 
 successes the whole ridge of the Alps, separating 
 Piedmont from Savoy, fell into the possession of 
 the Republican generals, and the keys of Italy 
 were placed in the hands of the French govern- 
 ment.: 
 
 Nor were the operations of the Republicans 
 less successful on the frontiers of Great success- 
 Nice. The councils of the leaders es of Napoleon 
 were there directed by General Bon- and Massena 
 aparte, whose extraordinary military >" the Mari- 
 abilities had already given him ah ^""" -^P^- 
 ascendency far beyond his rank. His design 
 was to turn Saorgio by its left, and cut oflT the 
 retreat of its garrison by the great road from over 
 the Col di Tende. The attacking force was di- 
 vided into three columns. The first, twenty 
 thousand strong, commanded by Massena, broke 
 up on the 1st of April, with twenty pieces of can- 
 non, to pass between Saorgio and the sea; the 
 second, composed of ten thousand men, under 
 the immediate directions of Dumerbion, remain- 
 ed in front of the enemy, while the third, of equal 
 force, was destined to gain the upper extremity 
 
 * Jom., v., 177, 189. St. Cyr, ii., 232, 250. 
 t Jom., v., 194, 198. Bot., i., 185, 193. 
 t Jom., T., 199, 201. Bot., i., 193-196. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 337 
 
 of the valleys of the Vesubia, and communicate 
 with the ariii)- of Savoy by Isola.* 
 
 In the course of his march, Massena traversed 
 the neutral territory of Genoa, and after a hardy 
 inarch as far as Garessio, found himself consid- 
 erably in advance of the main body of the ene- 
 my, posted in intrenched camps on the western 
 side of the mountains. Guided by the intrepid 
 Col Rusca, an ardent chasseur, and well ac- 
 quainted with these Alpine ridges, he boldly pur- 
 sued his successes, and by a skilful combina- 
 tion of all his force, succeeded in storming the 
 redoubts of the Col Ardente. In vain the Pied- 
 montese received the assailants with a shower 
 of stones and balls ; nothing could withstand the 
 impetuosity of the Republicans, and Massena, 
 pursuing his successes, reached Tanardo, and 
 the heights which commanded the pass of the 
 Briga. Rusca, familiar with the country, vehe- 
 mently urged his commander to direct .some bat- 
 talions to descend to the Convent of St. Dalma- 
 zia, seize the great road, destroy the bridges, and 
 cut olTthe retreat of the great body of the enemy 
 posted at the camp at Rauss ; but this appeared 
 too hazardous a measure to Massena, who pre- 
 ferred the certain advantage of compelling the 
 evacuation of Saorgio, without risk, to the peril- 
 ous attempt of compelling a force nearly equal 
 to his own to surrender. Meanwhile,. the attack 
 of the centre, rmder Dumerbion, had been attend- 
 ed with equal success ; and the Sardinian forces, 
 pressed in front and menaced in rear, evacuated 
 the famous camp of Rauss, and fell back towards 
 _^ the Col di Tende. Dumerbion's lead- 
 P'"' * ■ ing columns approached the lore of Sa- 
 orgio at the same time that Masseua's forces ap- 
 peared on the heights immediately overhanging 
 it behind; and this celebrated post, almost im- 
 pregnable in front, but destitute of any defence 
 against the forces of the Republicans, now perch- 
 ed on the rocks in its rear, surrendered at the first 
 summons. + 
 
 Meanwhile the French left successfully as- 
 The Sardini- cended the Vesubia, and, after a vehe- 
 ans are driven ment resistance, the winding, rocky 
 °!:er the ridge road between Figaretto and^Lantos- 
 J"*" ca was stormed, and the allies driv- 
 en back to the Col de Finisterre, while General 
 Serrurier cleared the valley of the Tinea, and 
 established a communication by Isola with the 
 army of Savoy. To reap the fi-uit of so many 
 successes, Dumerbion ordered Gamier to seize 
 the Col de Finisterre, while his own centre drove 
 the enemy from the Col di Tende. Both opera- 
 tions were successful ; the Col de Finisterre fell 
 after hardly any resistance ; and although the 
 Col di Tende was more bravely contested, the 
 tmexpected appearance of a division of French 
 on their left spread a panic among the Piedmont- 
 ese troops, which speedily led to the evacuation 
 of the position. Thus the Republicans, before 
 the end of May, were masters of all the passes 
 through the Maritime Alps ; and while, from the 
 summit of Mont Cenis. they threatened a de- 
 scent upon the valley of Susa and the capital, 
 from the Col di Tende they could advance 
 straight to the siege of the important fortress of 
 Coni.i 
 
 Napoleon, whose prophetic eye already an- 
 ticipated the triumphs of 179G, in vain urged the 
 government to unite the victorious armies in the 
 valley of the Stura, and push on immediatelv 
 
 * .Tom., v., 204. 
 
 + Bott.a, i., iSi, 190. Jom., v., 209, 210. Tli., vi., 283. 
 
 t Join., v., 211, 213. Bot., i., 166, 188, 190. Th.,vi.,2S2. 
 
 Vol. I.— U u 
 
 with iheir combined strength to the conquest of 
 Italy. The reverse at Kayserslautern induced 
 them to withdraw ten thousand men from the ar- 
 my of the Alps to support the troops on the 
 Rhine; and Dumerbion, satisfied with the lau- 
 rels he had won, and with energies enfeebled by 
 years, could not be induced to risk ulterior op- 
 erations. After so brilliant a eMul, the Repub- 
 lican forces failed even in reducinsr the little fort 
 of exiles on the eastern descent of Mont Cenis ; 
 and, for the three summer months, the victorious 
 troops reposed from their fatigues on the heights 
 which they had won above the clouds.* 
 
 On the frontiers of Spain the war a.ssumed 
 still more decisive features. The re- -war in the 
 duction of Toulon enabled the cen- Eastern Pyr- 
 tral government to detach General euees. 
 Dugommier with half the forces emploj'ed in 
 its siege, to re-enforce the army on the Eastern 
 PjTenees ; and it was resolved to act oflensive- 
 ly at both extremities of that range of mount- 
 ains. During the winter months incessant ex- 
 ertions were made to recruit the armies, which 
 the immense levies of the Republic enabled the 
 southern departments to do to such a degree, 
 that at the opening of the campaign, notwith- 
 standing their reverses, they were greatly supe- 
 rior in number to their opponents ; w-hile the 
 Spani.sh government, destitute of energy, and ex- 
 hausted by the exertions they had already made, 
 were unable to maintain their forces at'lhe for- 
 mer complement. Before the end Great diffi- 
 of the year 1793 thej' were reduced cuitiesofthe 
 to the necessity of issuing above Spaniards. 
 .£12,000,000 .sterling of paper money, secured on 
 the produce of the tobacco tax ; but all their ef- 
 forts to reciaiit their armies from the natives of 
 the country having proved ineffectual, they were 
 compelled to take the foreigners employed at 
 the siege of Toulon into their seiTice, and aug- 
 ment the number of their mercenary troops. 
 Eveiything on the Republican side indicated the 
 energy and resolution of a rising, everything on 
 the Spanish the decrepitude and vacillation of a 
 declining state. Between such powers victor}'' 
 could not long remain doubtful.t 
 
 Dugommier, on his arrival at the end of De- 
 cember, found the army of the Eastern Pyrenees, 
 raised by his junction to thirty-five thotisand 
 men, encamped imder the cannon of Perpignan ; 
 a large proportion of the troops were in hospital, 
 and the remainder in a state of insubordination 
 and dejection, which seemed to promise the most 
 disastrous results. By entirely reorganizing the 
 regiments, appointing new officers in the staff, 
 and communicating to all the vigour of his own 
 character, he succeeded in a few months not only 
 in restoring its efficiency, but leading it to the 
 most glorious successes. The Spanish army, 
 recently so triumphant, had proportionally decli- 
 ned : above ten thousand men were in ho.spital, 
 the expected re-enforcements had not arrived, and 
 the force in the field did not exceed twenty-five 
 thousand effective troops. Before the end of 
 Febnxaiy, the French force was augmented to 
 sixty-five thousand men, of whom thirty-five 
 thousand were in a condition immediately to 
 commence operations. J 
 
 On the 27th of March, the Republicans broke 
 up and drew near to the Spanish position. A 
 redoubt on the Spanish left was taken a few 
 
 * Bot., i., ISr. Jom., v., 214. 
 
 t Jom., v., 218, 221. Toul.. iv., 304. Th., vi., 278, 279. 
 t Jom., v., 222, 223, 224, 225. Th., vi., 278. Tonl., iv., 
 305. 
 
338 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 day.s after the campaign opened, and General 
 Dagobert was carried oli' by the malignant fever, 
 which had already made such ravage.s in both 
 armies. The Marquis Arnarillas, upon that, 
 drew back all his Ibrces into the inlrenched 
 camp at Boulon. He was shortly after suc- 
 ceeded in the command by La Union, who im- 
 mediately transferred the headquarters to Ceret, 
 a good position for an attacking, but defective 
 for a defending army. They were there assail- 
 . ed on the liOih of April by the whole 
 April 30. pj-gjKjij force ; and one of the redoubts 
 in the centre of the Spanish position having been 
 stormed, the whole army fell back in confusion, 
 wliich was increased into a total rout on 
 
 ^^ ■ the following day, by the Republican 
 troops having made themselves masters of the 
 road to Bellegarde, the principal line of their 
 commimication over the mountains into their 
 Tliey are de- "^'^ coimlry. Finding themselves 
 feated in their cut off from this route, tlie Spaniards 
 lines by the were seized with one of those panics 
 French. gQ common to their troops in the 
 
 Peninsular war ; the whole army fled in confu- 
 sion over the hills, and could be rallied only im- 
 der the cannon of Figueras, leaving one hun- 
 dred and forty pieces of cannon, fifteen hundred 
 prisoners, eight hundred mules, and all their 
 baggage and ammunition to the victors, whose 
 loss did not amount to one thousand men.* 
 
 Dugommier immediately took advantage of 
 ' his success to undertake the siege of the 
 
 taken."'^^ fortresses of which the Spaniards had 
 possessed themselves on the French ter- 
 ritory. Collioure and Belgarde were besieged 
 at the same time ; and although the inconsider- 
 ate ardour of the Republicans exposed them to 
 a severe check at Port Vendre, the siege of Fort 
 St. Elmo was pressed with so much vigour, that 
 the garrison, abandoned to its own resources, 
 was compelled to evacuate the place, and retire 
 to Collioure. Marshal Navarro, the Spanish 
 commander, at the head of a garrison of seven 
 thousand men, made a gallant defence ; and the 
 rocky nature of the ground exposed the besiegers 
 to almost insurmountable ditficulties ;t but the 
 perseverance of the French engineers having 
 ,, g transported artillery to places deemed in- 
 
 ^^ ■ accessible, the commander, after having 
 made a vain attempt to escape by sea, which the 
 tempestuous state of the weather rendered im- 
 practicable, laid down his arms with his whole 
 garrison. 
 
 At the other extremity of the Pyrenees, the 
 Invasion of French army, weakened by the de- 
 Spain by the tacimient of considerable forces to 
 Western Pjt- RoussiUon to repair the disa.sters of 
 enees. ^j^g preceding campaign, remained in 
 
 the early part of the year on the defensive. The 
 Republicans in that quarter did not amount to 
 forty thousand men, of whom one half were 
 militia totally unfit to take tlie field. An attack 
 by the Spaniards on the French intrenchments 
 early in February having been repulsed, nothing 
 was undertaken of importance in that quarter 
 till the beginningof June, when the government, 
 encouraged by the great advantages gained in 
 RoussiUon, resolved to invade the Peninsula at 
 ojnce, at both extremities of the Pyrenees, while 
 the improved organization of the new levies 
 around Bayonne afforded every prospect of suc- 
 cess.* 
 
 * Tout., iv., 30.^, 30T. Jom., v., 235. Th., ti., 279. 
 + Tonl , iv., sm. Jom., v., 241, 24.3. 
 t TouL, iv., 309. Jom., v., 248, 251. 
 
 The invasion on the west took place by the 
 valley ot Bastan, the destined theatre of 
 more memorable achievements between ''"" " 
 the armies of England and France. The Re- 
 publicans Avere divided into three columns, which 
 successively Ibrced the Col di Maya and the val- 
 ley of Roncesvalles. Some weeks afterward, an 
 attempt was made by the Spanish commander to 
 regain the position which he had lost, 
 but he was repulsed with the loss of "°^ ' 
 eight hundred men, and soon after resigned the 
 command of an army which was daily increasing 
 in disorder and demoralization. The Count 
 Colomera, who succeeded to the command, was 
 not more successful. He in vain endeavoured 
 by proclamations to rouse the mountaineers of 
 the Pyrenees to arms in their defence;* the pe- 
 riod was not arrived when the chord of religion 
 was to vibrate through the Spanish heart. 
 
 Towards the end of July, the French drove the 
 Spaniards out of the whole of the j^, 34 
 valley of Bastan, forced the heights Great success- 
 of St. Mai'cial, captured the intrench- es of the Re- 
 ed camp and fortified posts on the P"bUcans. 
 Bidassoa, defended by two hundred pieces of 
 cannon, and pushed on to Fontarabia, which, 
 surrendered on the fir.st summons. Following 
 up the career of success, they advanced to St. 
 Sebastian, and that unportant fortress, 
 though garrfsoned by seventeen hun- "^"^ " 
 dred regular troops, capitulated without firing a 
 shot. Colomera took post at Tolosa, to cover 
 the roads leading to Pampeluna and Madrid; 
 but at the first appearance of the enem}- the whole 
 infantry took to flight, and left the cavalry alone 
 to sustain the brunt of the enem}^, which, by a 
 gallant charge, succeeded in arresting the ad- 
 vance of the pursuers. By these successes the 
 French were firmly posted in the Spanish terri- 
 tory, and their wants amply supplied from the 
 great magazines and stores, both of ammunition, 
 and provisions, which fell into their hands in the 
 fortified places on the frontier. The English 
 historian, who recounts the facility with which 
 these successes were achieved by the inexperi- 
 enced troops of France, cannot help feeling a 
 conscious pride at the recollection of the very 
 different actions of which that country was after- 
 ward the theatre, and at marking in the scenes 
 of Spanish disgrace the destined theatre of Brit- 
 ish glory .t 
 
 While these events were occurring in Biscay, 
 successes still more decisive were gjc^e and 
 gained on the eastern frontier. Twen- rapture of 
 ty thousand of the Republicans were Belle<,'arde. 
 employed in the blockade of Bellegarde, and the 
 Catalonians, always ready to take up arms when 
 their hearths are threatened, turned out in great 
 numbers to re-enforce the army of La Union. 
 After three months of incessant efforts, the Span- 
 ish commander deemed his troops sufficiently re- 
 instated to resume the offensive, and attempt the 
 relief of Bellegarde, which was now reduced to 
 the last extremity. The principal attack g ,„ 
 was made against the right wing of Du- ^^ ' 
 gommier, and if it had been assailed with suffi- 
 cient force, the success of the Spaniards could 
 hardly have been doubtful; but the columns of 
 attack ha\ing been imprudently divided, the con- 
 voy destined to revictual the fortress never 
 reached its destination ; and General Augereau, 
 who commanded the right wing, though driven 
 
 * Tout., iv., 310. Jom., v., 252, 255, and vi., 113. 
 t Jom., v., 152. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 339 
 
 back to tlie camp of La Madeleine, succeeded in 
 battling the objects of the enemy. The conse- 
 quence was, that the Spaniards, after having at 
 lirst gained some advantages, were compelled to 
 retreat, and Bellegarde, seeing no prospect of 
 relief, capitulated a few days afterward. The 
 Spanish general excused himself lor the bad suc- 
 cess of his arms by alleging the insubordinatiim 
 and misconduct of the troops. '-Without," said 
 he, in his report to government, " consideration, 
 without obeying their chiefs or their officers, who 
 did their utmost to restrain them, the soldiers took 
 to flight, after having for the most part thrown 
 away their arms.'' A battalion was ordered to 
 be decimated for its cowardice, and La Union, 
 despairing of success, solicited his dismissal.* 
 
 Discouraged by such repeated reverses, the 
 Spanish government made proposals of peace ; 
 but the terms were deemed so inadmissible by the 
 Committee of Public Safety, that they ordered 
 Dugommier to give their answer from the can- 
 non's mouth. In the mean while, the Spanish 
 commander had leisure to strengthen his posi- 
 tion: two hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, in 
 two lines, arranged along a succession of heights 
 nearly seven leagues in extent, presented a front 
 of the most formidable kind, while a smaller in- 
 trenched camp in the rear, around Figueras, 
 aflbrded a secure asylum in case of disaster. 
 But the result proved how rare it is that a posi- 
 tion of that description, how strong soever to ap- 
 pearance, is capable ol^ arresting an enterprising 
 and able assailant. The artillery, perched upon 
 eminences, produced but an inconsiderable ellect, 
 with its plunging shot, on the masses in the val- 
 leys beneath, while the difficulty of communica- 
 tion between the difl'erent parts of the line ren- 
 dered a disaster in any quarter extremely proba- 
 ble, from the superior tbrces which the enemy 
 could bring to bear upon one point, and if it 
 occurred, hardly reparable.t 
 
 On the night of the IGth of November, the 
 Great defeat i''rench attacking army, thirty thou- 
 of the Span- sand strong, was put in motion. It 
 iards near Fi- was divided into three columns, 
 gueras. rpj^^ right, under the command of 
 
 Augereau, after an arduous march of eighteen 
 hours over rocks and precipices, drove the Span- 
 iards, under General Courten, from the camp of 
 La Madeleine, and made themselves masters of 
 the whole intrenchments in that quarter ; but the 
 left, under General Lauret, was repulsed by the 
 heavy fire Irom the batteries to which he was 
 opposed, and when Dugommier was preparing 
 to support him, he was killed by a shell from the 
 central redoubts of the enemy. This unlooked- 
 for disaster for a time paralyzed the movements 
 of the Republican army ; but Perignon having 
 been invested with the command, moved a con- 
 siderable force to the relief of Lauret, and with 
 some difficulty extricated him from his perilous 
 situation. But Augereau had vigorously fol- 
 lowed up his successes. After giving his troops 
 breath, he moved them to the centre, and forced 
 the great redoubt,: though bravely defended by 
 twelve hundred men; the result of which was, 
 that the Spaniards abandoned five other redoubts 
 and almost all their artillery, and fell back to 
 their intrenched camp in the neighbourhood of 
 Figueras. 
 
 Perignon instantly prepared to follow up his 
 successes. Wisely'judging that the left was the 
 
 weak point of the enemy's position, he ,, ,„ 
 re-enforced Augereau in the night with 
 two fresh brigades, and on the moiuing of the 
 20th, moved all his forces to the attack. „ 
 General Bon, intrusted with the conduct ^°^-^"- 
 of the vanguard of the right wing, defiled over 
 tracts hardly practicable for single passengers,and 
 crossed the river Muga repeatedly, with the wa- 
 ter up to the soldiers' middle. Arrived in pies- 
 ence of the redoubts, he ascended the mountain 
 Escaulus, under a tremendous fire from the 
 Spanish redoubts, and carried at the point of the 
 bayonet the central intrenchment. La Union, 
 hastening with the reserve to the redoubt of La 
 Rosere, was killed on the spot ; and that fort, re- 
 garded as impregnable, having been stomred, its 
 whole defenders were put to the sword. These 
 disasters discouraged the Spaniards along the 
 whole line. Several other redoubts having been 
 carried by the bayonet, the defenders evacuated 
 the remainder, and blew them up. In a few 
 minutes, twenty redoubts, constructed with infi- 
 nite labour, were blown into the air; and the 
 troops, charged with their defence, flying in con- 
 fusion to Figueras, overthrew a column of fresh 
 troops advancing to their support, and rushed in 
 utter confusion into the gates of the fortress. 
 Such was the dismay of the Spaniards, that 
 when the Republican outposts, a few -- „, 
 days afterward, approached Figueras, 
 the garrison, consisting of above nine thousand 
 men, amply provided with provisions and stores 
 of every sort, laid down their arms ; and the 
 strongest place in Spain,* amid the general ac- 
 clamation of the inhabitants, was delivered up 
 to the invaders. 
 
 This unexpected conquest having made the 
 French masters of the rich and fertile plain of 
 Lampourdan, and of an ample supply of stores 
 and artillery of every description, preparations 
 were soon afterward made for the siege of Rosas. 
 The garrison consisted of nearly five thousand 
 men, and the place in itself strong, as the glori- 
 ous siege of 1809 demonstrated, was capable of 
 being re-enibrced to any extent by sea. Never- 
 theless, such was the vigour of tne Republicans 
 and the dejection of the Spaniards, that the as- 
 sailants pushed the siege during the severest 
 months of winter without any molestation. The 
 fort of Trinity was reduced on the 7th of Janu- 
 ary ; and the garrison, threatened with an imme- 
 diate assault by a practicable breach, p . ~ ,-95 
 retiredby sea in the beginning of Feb- *=•''• 
 ruary, leaving the fortress to the enemy.t 
 
 Nor was the fortune of war more lavourable 
 to the Spanish forces at the other invasion of 
 extremity of the line. After the fall Biscay, and 
 of St. Sebastian, Colomera endeav- dffeatofthe 
 oured, without effect, to rouse the Spaniards. 
 population of the Pyrenean valleys, and the Re- 
 publicans attempted to erect Biscay into a re- 
 public, to be independent of the Spanish crown. 
 The usual fruits of Democratic insurrectiou 
 speedily appeared: the guillotine was erected at 
 St. Sebastian, and, in defiance of a solemn ca- 
 pitulation, the blood of the priests and the nobles 
 was shed by the French commissioners with as 
 much inveteracy as if Guipuzcoa had been La 
 Vendee. Meanwhile disease made deeper rava- 
 ges than the Spanish sword in the ranks of the 
 invaders; in a short time above thirty thousand 
 men perished in the hospitals. At length the 
 
 * Tout., v., 30, 33. .lorn., vi., 118, 123. Th., vii 92. 
 
 t Tout., v., 34. Jom., vi., 124, 125. 
 
 t Toul., v., 34. Jom., vi., 140. Th., vii., 200. 
 
 * .Tom., vi., 133, 138. Toul., v., 35, 36. Th,, vii., 200. 
 t Jom., VI., 141. Toul., iv., 36. 
 
310 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XYI. 
 
 Republican columns having been recruited by 
 the nev'er-failing levies in the interior, a general 
 attack, late in autumn, was commenced on tlie 
 Spanish positions. In the valley of lloncesval- 
 O 16 1-91 ^^*' '^^^^ ^■'^^^ division, after a vigor- 
 *^ ■ ' ' ' ■ ous resistance, was routed, with the 
 loss of forty pieces of cannon and liftecn hun- 
 dred prisoners, and a severe tempest of wind and 
 rain alone prevented its total destruction. This 
 success enabled the invaders to seize and burn 
 the foundries of Orbaizila and D'Engu)-, which 
 had so long served for the stipply of the Spanish 
 marine; after which they retired to the neigh- 
 bourhood of St. Sebastian and Fontarabia, still 
 occupying in force the valley of Bastan.* 
 
 These repeated disasters, and the evident dis- 
 . affection of a considerable portion of 
 
 peTce^"^ their subjects, who were infected by 
 the rage for Democratical institu- 
 tions, at length disposed the Spanish govern- 
 ment to an accommodation. Nor Avere the 
 Committee of Public Safety inclined to in.sist 
 on rigorous conditions, as the liberation of two 
 experienced and victorious armies promised to 
 be of the utmost importance to the Republican 
 armies in the conquests which they meditated 
 on the south of the Alps. With these dispo- 
 sitions on both sides, the work of negotiation 
 was not difficult; and although the conclusion 
 of the treaty was deferred to the succeeding year, 
 HO operations of importance v,-ere undertaken 
 after this period. The severe winter of 1794-5, 
 which gave the Republican troops the mastery 
 of Holland, closed their operations on the snows 
 of the Pyrenees. t 
 
 The approach of ■wdnter, however, afforded no 
 respite to the armies on the northern frontier. 
 After a delay of two months, occasioned by the 
 secret negotiations which the fall of Robespierre 
 had broken off, the Republican armies recom- 
 menced those active operations, which their im- 
 mense superiority of physical force speedily ren- 
 dered decisive. The army of the north had 
 seventy thousand effective men under its ban- 
 Benewal of Hers ; that of the Sambre and Meuse, 
 tostilities m nominally 145,000 strong, presented 
 Flanders. gn efficient force of 116,000 men; 
 while the Duke of York, to cover the United 
 Provinces, had hardh^ fifty thousand ; and Gen- 
 eral Clairfait, who had replaced Prince Co- 
 bourg, could only muster 100,000 to maintain 
 the footing of the Imperialists in the Flemish 
 provinces. But, considered morally, the ine- 
 quality between the contending armies was still 
 greater: on the one side was the triumph of vic- 
 tor}^, the vigour of Democratic ambition, the 
 ardour of patriotic enthusiasm, the confidence of 
 increasing numbers and conscious ability ; on 
 the other, the dejection of defeat, the recrimina- 
 tion of commanders, the jealousies of nations, 
 declining numbers, and an obstinate adherence 
 to antiquated tactics.j 
 
 All anxiety about their rear haA-ing been re- 
 moved by the reduction of Conde, Valenciennes, 
 Cluesnoy, and Landrecy, the Republicans, in the 
 end of August, resumed the offensive. The fort 
 of Ecluse having surrendered to General Mo- 
 reau, the army of the north, re-enforced by his 
 Sept 4 1794 division, commenced the invasion of 
 British" rp'tire Holland, while the States-General 
 to right i.uiiic obstinately persisted in maintaining 
 of the Meuse. j^^ji their lorces, amounting to twen- 
 
 ♦ Join., VI., 154. IfiT. Th., vil., 199, 200. Toul., v., 218. 
 !■ .Imii., vi., IrtS. TonK.v., 221. 
 i Juni., vi., 15, 26. Th., vii., 76. 
 
 ty thousand men, in garrison in the interior, 
 thirty leagues from the theatre of war, there- 
 by leaving the ])rotection of the frontier to the 
 inconsiderable force of the British commander. 
 With little more than half the invader's g ., 
 Ibrce, the Duke of York was charged "^ ' ' 
 with the defence of a frontier twenty leagues ia 
 extent.* He first took up a defensive „ .„ 
 position behind the Aar, but his advanced ^^ ' 
 posts having been defeated by the French with 
 the loss of fifteen hundred prisoners, he was 
 compelled to jetire to the right bank of the 
 Meuse, leaving the important places of Bergen- 
 op-Zoom, Breda, and Bois-le-duc to their own 
 resources. 
 
 Meanwhile, the army of the Sambre and Meuse, 
 under Jourdan, made preparations for a general 
 attack on the scattered forces of Clairfait. On 
 the I8th, the P.,epublicaus, divided into 
 six; columns, broke up, and a number of ^^^' 
 partial actions took place along the whole line ; 
 but the jDOSt of Ayvaile having been forced by the 
 French, the Austrians fell back, with the lo.ss of 
 fifteen hundred men and thirty-six pieces of can- 
 non, and, after several ineliectual attempts to 
 make a stand, finally evacuated their positions 
 on the Meuse, and retired towards Rolduc and 
 Aix-la-Chapelle. .Tourdan immediately followed 
 them; and while Kleber, with fifteen thousand 
 men, formed the blockade of Maestricht, the gen- 
 eral himself, with 100,000, pressed the discomfit- 
 ed forces of Clairfait, now hardly in a condition 
 to keep the field, from the confusion and precipi- 
 tance of their retreat. In vain the Austrians 
 took up a strong defensive position behind the 
 Roer. On the 2d of October, the Repub- 
 lican columns were in motion at break of ' ^' 
 day to assail their position, and for the first time 
 since the Revolution, the splendid spectacle was 
 exhibited of 100,000 men moving to the attack 
 with the precision and regularity of a field-day. 
 The Austrians occupied a series of heights be- 
 hind the river, from whence their numerous ar- 
 tillery kept up a destructive plun- battle of Rure- 
 gmg fire upon the advancing col- monde, and re- 
 umns of the French; but nothing treat of the aus- 
 could arrest the enthusiasm of the fians. 
 Republicans. The French grenadiers, ■with Ber- 
 nadotte at their head, plunged into the stream, 
 and forced the Austrians to abandon the opposite 
 heights, while General Scherer, on the other 
 wing, also forced the passage of the river, and 
 made himself master of Dueren. These disasters 
 induced Clairfait, who still bravely maintained 
 himself in the centre, to order a general retreat, 
 which was effected before nightfall, with the los.s 
 of three thousand men, while that of the French 
 did not amount to half the number.t 
 
 This battle decided the fate of Flanders, and 
 threw back the imperial armv beyond 
 the Rhine. The Au.strians, "in haste, tj^^ RMnT 
 crossed that river at Mulheira, and 
 Jourdan entered Cologne the day follow- Oct. 5. 
 ing, and soon afterward extended his 
 troops to Bonn. Soon after, the siege of "^^t. 20. 
 Maestricht was seriously undertaken, and such 
 was the activity of the Coimnittee of Public 
 Safety, that a splendid siege equipage of two 
 hundred pieces descended the Meuse, and speed- 
 ily spread desolation through the city. A large 
 cavern, discovered in the rock on which the fort 
 of St. Petre was situated, gave rise to a subter- 
 
 * Jom., vi., 22, 25. Tout., v., 66, 67. Th., vii., 77, 78. 
 t Join., vi., 32, 36, 46. Toul., v., 60. Th., vii.; 79, 64. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 341 
 
 Taneous warfare, in which the French soldiers, 
 ever ready to adapt themselves to circumstances, 
 speedily distinguished themselves. At length, on 
 the 4th of November, the garrison, despair- 
 ^'°*' '*■ ing of being relieved, capitulated, on con- 
 dition of not serving against the French till regu- 
 larly exchanged ; and this noble fortress, with 
 ihree hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, fell into 
 the hands of the Republicans. After this event, 
 and the capture of the castle of Rheinfels by the 
 army of the Moselle, which shortly after took 
 place, there remainecl nothing of all their vast 
 possessions on the left of the Rhine but Luxem- 
 bourg and Maycnce in the hands of the Imperial- 
 ists.* 
 
 Nor w^ere the operations of the left wing, des- 
 Art,vnnnr»nit tiued for thc invasion of Holland, 
 cif the English less succcssiul. Alter the retreat 
 hytheRepub- of the Duke of York, Pichegru, 
 hciins. whose forces amounted to seventy 
 
 thousand efficient troops, formed the siege oif 
 Bois le Due, whose situation, situated at the con- 
 fluence of three streams, was of importance as 
 abase to their futiu'e operations. Both the States- 
 General and the Duke of York had neglected to 
 provide for the defence of this important fortress ; 
 its garrison Avas too weak either to man the works 
 or undergo the fatigue of a siege; the 
 ept- - . ji^j^ yj- Qpevecour surrendered almost at 
 the first .shot, and in a ibrtnight al'ter the place 
 capitulated, after a resistance disgraceful 
 Oct. 10. jQ jjjj, Dutch arms. After this success, 
 the Duke of York distributed his troops along 
 the line of the Waal^ in hopes of being able to 
 maintain a communication with the fortress of 
 Grave, now threatened with a siege ; but Piche- 
 gru, continuing his career of success, crossed the 
 Meuse, and attacked the advanced posts of the 
 allies with so much vigour, that they were com- 
 pelled to fall back, with considerable loss, across 
 the Waal. After this check, the Duke of York 
 stationed part of his troops in an intrenched 
 camp, under the cannon of Niraeguen, and the 
 British take a remainder in a line around Thiel, 
 position behind and between the Waal and the 
 the Waal. Leck, communicating with the 
 Dutch corps at Gorcum, in the hope of being 
 permitted to remain there undisturbed during the 
 ■winter. Meanwhile, Pichegru invested Grave 
 ^ and Venloo ; the latter of A\hich, 
 
 though defended by a suflicient garri- 
 son of eighteen hundred men, and amply provided 
 with artillery and ammunition, surrendered be- 
 fore the vrorks were injured, from the mere an- 
 noyance of the enemy's musketry .t 
 
 The successive intelligence of the defection 
 of the Prussians, and the open abandonment of 
 the Low Countries by the Austrian forces, wJiich 
 exposed Holland and Hanover to the immediate 
 invasion of the Republican forces, afforded the 
 opposition in the English Parliament a favour- 
 able opportunity for renewing their attack's on 
 the government ; and they tri amphantly observed, 
 that after twenty-seven months of bloodshed and 
 combats, the a'llies were reduced to the same 
 situation in which they were M'hen Dumourier 
 projected the invasion of Holland. But nothing 
 could shake the firmness of Mr. Pitt. " It mat^ 
 •ters little," said he, " whether the disasters which 
 have arisen are to be ascribed to the weakmess 
 of the generals, the intrigues of camps, or the 
 jealousies of the cabinets ; the fact is, that they 
 
 * Jom., vi., 42, 45. Toul., v., 70. Th , \ii., 85. 
 
 t Toul., v., 68, 72, 77, 78. Jom., vi., 47, 56. Th., vii., 86. 
 
 exist, and that we must anew commence the sal- 
 vation of Europe." In pursuance of this heroic 
 resolution. Sir Arthur Paget Avas despatched to 
 Berlin to endeavour to obtain some light on the 
 ambiguous and suspicious conduct of that power, 
 and Lord Spencer to Vienna, to endeavour to 
 divert the imperial cabinet from their alarm- 
 ing intention of abandoning the Low Coun- 
 tries.* 
 
 .As soon as Lord Spencer arrived at Vienna, 
 he obtained a private audience of the emperor, 
 and laid before him the proposals of the English 
 government, Avhich AA-ere no less than the ofler 
 of an annual subsidy of three millions sterling, 
 provided the Imperialists would rencAV the war 
 in Flanders, and place the command of the army 
 to the Archduke Charles, AvithClairfait, Beaulieu. 
 and iVlack for his council. At the same time', 
 they stated such facts respecting the measures 
 of Cobourg as confirmed the suspicions which 
 the cabinet of Vienna already entertained in re- 
 gard to liis conduct, and led to his recall from, 
 the army, of which Claiifait assumed the com- 
 mand.t 
 
 The cabinet of Vienna, hoAvever, secretly in- 
 clined to peace, delayed giving any definitive 
 ansAver to the proposals of Mr. Pitt, and mean- 
 Avhile entertained secret OA-ertures from the French, 
 government, Avhile Clairfait recei\-ed orders to 
 remain altogether on the right bank of the Rhine, 
 and Alvinzi Avas merely detached Avith lAventy- 
 five thousand men to co-operate Avith the Duke 
 of York in the defence of Holland. This retreat 
 renewed the alarms of Prussia lor her possession.? 
 on the Rhine, which Avas much increased by the 
 cessation about the same period of the subsidies 
 from the English government, Avho most justly 
 declined to continue their monthly payments to 
 a poAver AvMch Avas doing nothing to the common 
 cause. Frederic William, upon this, Avithdrew 
 tAventy thousand of his best troops from the army 
 of the Rhine, to join the forces Avhich the Em- 
 press Catharine Avas moving toAvards WarsaAV 
 under the far-famed SuwarroAv. The French 
 immediately made themselves masters of the 
 Avhole left bank of the Rhine ; the castle of Rhein- 
 fels fell into their hands, and there remained no- 
 thing to the allies of their great possessions on 
 that side of the stream but the fortresses of Lux- 
 embourg and Mayence. It Avas noAv evident that 
 the coalition M'as rapidly approaching its dis.so- 
 lution ; the King of Prussia openly receiA^ed 
 overtures for peace from the French goA'ernment, 
 Avhile the Duke of Wurtemberg, the Elector of 
 Saxony, the Elector of Mayence, and other lesser 
 potentates, secretly made advances to the same 
 efiect, and insisted so strongly on the danger of 
 their situation, that the emperor, notwithstanding 
 all the firmness of Thugut, was obliged to acqui- 
 esce in their pacific measures. The 5th 
 of December was the day fixed for the ^'^" ' 
 discussion of the important question of peace 
 or Avar in the Diet of the Empire. And such 
 Avas the consternation generally diffused by the 
 divisions of the allies and successes of the French, 
 that fifty-seven A'oices then declared for peace, and 
 thirty-six demanded the King of Prussia for a 
 mediator. This important resolution at once 
 determined the conduct of Prussia. She noAV 
 thrcAv off the mask, and established conferences 
 at Bale preparator}- to a peace ; Avhile England 
 made unheard-of efforts to retain Austria in the 
 
 * Hard., iii., 41. Pari. Hist., xxxi., 1036. 
 t Hard., iii., 69-73. 
 
342 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 confederacy, and at length, by the offer of a sub- 
 sidy of XO',UOU,000, prevailed on that power to 
 maintain her armies on the defensive on the 
 banks of the Rhine, and resume, in the ensuing 
 campaign, a vigorous otfensive in Italy.* 
 
 The successes which have been detailed, great 
 October 27. as they were, were but the prelude, on 
 Siege of ' the part of the French, to a winter cam- 
 Nimeguen. paign, attended with still more decisive 
 results. Towards the end of October, Pichegru 
 xmdertook the siege of Nimeguen ; the Duke of 
 York approached with thirty thousand men, and, 
 by a vigorous sally upon the besiegers, v/ho had 
 the temerity to oikn their trenches, though the 
 place was only invested on the left bank of the 
 Waal, gained an ephemeral success, attended by 
 no important consequences. Shortly after, the 
 .French established some batteries, destined to 
 command the bridge which connected the town 
 •with the intrenched camp in its rear, and soon 
 sunk some of the pontoons composing it, w^hich 
 so much disconcerted the allied commanders, 
 that they hastily evacuated the place, with the 
 bulk of' the garrison, in the night, leaving its 
 defence to an inadequate garrison of three thou- 
 sand men. The troops, discouraged by 
 Which is jjjg flight of their fellow-soldiers, over- 
 
 ^"' awed by the redoubled fire of the be- 
 siegers, and despairing of maintaining the place, 
 immediately attempted to follow their example. 
 Terror seized their ranks; they precipi- 
 
 ''' tated themselves upon the bridge, which 
 ■was burned before the rear-guard had passed over ; 
 one regiment was obliged to capitulate, and part 
 of another, embarked on a flying bridge, was 
 stranded on the left bank,t and next day made 
 prisoners by the French; and this splendid for- 
 tress, which rendered them masters of the passage 
 of the Waal, fell into the hands of the Republi- 
 cans. 
 
 The Dutch loudly reproached the English with 
 Mud - ^^^ abandonment of this important 
 standing be- point, but apparently without reason ; 
 tween the for how was it to be expected that the 
 Dutch and j)ix\^e of York, with thirty thousand 
 
 '= ■ men, was to maintain himself, in 
 presence of seventy thousand French, with the 
 Rhine in his rear, when three times that force of 
 Austrians had deemed themselves insecure, till 
 they had that river, an hundred miles farther up, 
 thrown between them and the enemy 1 Be that 
 as it may, the evacuation of Nimeguen completed 
 the misunderstanding between the allied powers, 
 and by spreading the belief in Holland that their 
 cause was hopeless, and that their allies were 
 about to abandon them, eminently contributed to 
 the easy conquest of the United Provinces, which 
 so soon after followed. Grave, six weeks 
 Dec. 24. gftgj.^ capitulated, after an honourable re- 
 sistance; and Breda, one of the last of the Dutch 
 barrier towns, Avas invested.! 
 
 The French army, worn out with seven months 
 of incessant marching and bivouacks, now stood 
 excessively in need of repose. The clothing of 
 the soldiers was in rags, their shoes were worn 
 out, and the equipments of the artillery, but for 
 the supplies received from the captured places, 
 ■would long ago have been exhausted. But all 
 the representations of the generals upon these 
 points were overruled; and the Committee of 
 Public Safety, inflamed by the spirit of conquest, 
 and guided by the enterprise of Carnot, resolved 
 
 * Hard., ui., 81, 05, 110. 
 
 t .lorn., vi., 174, 179. Th., vii., 176, 177. Tout., 
 
 t Tout., v., 77. Jom., vi., 175. 
 
 upon exacting from them fresh sacrifices. Ac- 
 customed to find every diliiculty yield to the devo- 
 tion of the Republican soldiers, they resolved, 
 after a month's rest to the soldiers,* to prosecute 
 their successes in the midst of a rigorous winter, 
 and to render the severity of the season the means 
 of overcoming the natural defences of the Dutch 
 provinces. 
 
 The first object was to cross the Waal, and, 
 after driving the allied forces over all the mouths 
 of the Rhine, penetrate into Holland by thj Isle 
 of Bommel. For this purpose, boats had for 
 some time past been collected at Fort Crevecour, 
 and pontoons and other materials for a bridge at 
 Bois le Due; and the preparations having been 
 completed, the passage was commenced at day- 
 break on the I2th of November. 
 But the firm countenance of the al- ^°'''- 1^, 1-94. 
 lies defeated all their attempts ; and, after several 
 ineflectual eflbrts, Moreau, whose sagacity clear- 
 ly perceived the danger of persisting in the de- 
 sign, withdrew his troops, and the army was put 
 into winter-quarters between the Meuse and the 
 Rhine.t 
 
 Early in December, the Duke of York, sup- 
 posing the campaign finished, set winter cam- 
 out for England, leaving to General paiguof Pich- 
 Walmoden the perilous task of pro- *'§'■"• 
 tecting, with an inferior and defeated anny, a 
 divided countr}-, against a numerous and enter- 
 prising enemy. But a severe Irost, which soon 
 after set in, and rendered that winter long mem- 
 orable in physical annals, made the Republicans 
 conceive the design of invading Holland, while 
 the frost rendered the numerous canals and rivers 
 which intersected the country passable for troops 
 and artillery. The prospect of that danger ex- 
 cited the utmost alarm in the mind of General 
 Walmoden, who, seeing the Meuse frozen in his 
 front, while the Rhine and the Waal were charged 
 with floating ice in his rear, was justly afraid that 
 the same cold which exposed his line to the at- 
 tacks of the enemy, would render the passage of 
 the arms of the sea impracticable in the event of 
 retreat. Influenced by these apprehen.sions, he 
 passed his hea^y cavalrj' to the other side of the 
 Waal, evacuated liis magazines and hospitals 
 upon bwenter, and ordered the Prince of Hesse 
 d'Armstadt, cantoned with the most advanced 
 corps in the Isle of Bommel, to abandon it on 
 the first intelligence of the passage of the Meuse 
 by the enemy.; 
 
 At the end of December, the Meuse being en- 
 tirely frozen over, and the cold as 
 low as 17" of Reaumur, the French "^''- -^' ''^^• 
 army commenced its winter campaign by an at- 
 tack on two columns of the Dutch ad- j^^ makes a 
 vanced posts. The result was what general at- 
 might have been expected from an ir- tack on the 
 mption into a cordon of posts by con- »l'""i posi- 
 centrated forces ; the Dutch troojis, af- ^"'"" 
 ter a slight resi-stance, fled in confusion, some to 
 Utrecht, and others to Gorcon, leaving sixty 
 pieces of cannon and sixteen hmidred prisoners 
 in the hands of the invaders. In the general 
 confusion, the Republicans even made them- 
 selves masters of some forts on the Waal, and 
 crossed that river ; but the stream being not yet 
 passable for heavy" artillery, Pichegru withdrew 
 his troops to the left bank. But meanwhile the 
 right of the Dutch position was assailed by the 
 French, one brigade driven into William.stadt, 
 
 * Jom., VI., 170, 180. Th., -vii , 178. 
 
 t Jom., i-i., 182. Toul., v., 166. Th., vii., 181. 
 
 t Jom., vi., 183, 184. Toul., v., 167. Th., vii., 1S2, 183. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 343 
 
 another made prisoners, and Breda invested. 
 -^ On the Iblknving day Grave capitulated, 
 
 ~ ■ alter an honouiahle resistance of two 
 months, and a bombardment of three weeks, 
 from famine: a noble example, the more worthy 
 of admiration from its having occurred in the 
 middle of the general consternation, and after 
 numerous instances of shameful dereliction of 
 duty on the part of the Dutch troops.* 
 
 So many disasters produced their usual effect 
 in sowing the seeds of dissension among the al- 
 .lied generals. Walmoden was desirous to con- 
 centrate his forces on the Waal, between Nime- 
 guen and St. Andr6, to make head against the 
 French, who were making preparations to cross 
 that river; but the Prince of Orange insisted on 
 the allied forces approaching Gorcum, in order 
 to cover the direct road to Amsterdam, where 
 the Republican agents had been long preparing 
 a revolutionary movement, and an explosion 
 ■was daily expected. Thus thwarted in the only 
 Walmoden re- rational mode of carrying-on the 
 tires towards campaign, Walmoden resolved to 
 Hanover. abandon the United Provinces to 
 their fate, and, with a view to secure his retreat 
 to Hanover, concentrated the English forces he- 
 hind the Linge, and covered them on the left by 
 the Austrian contingents. Orders were at the 
 same time given to abandon the line of the Waal 
 as soon as the enemy should present themselves 
 in force for the passage of that river. But an 
 unexpected panic having occurred in the division 
 intnisted with the park of artilleiy near Thiel, 
 it became evident that this position, in the de- 
 jected state of the army, was not tenable, and 
 the troops, with the exception of a small van- 
 guard, were withdraAvn behind the Rhine. t 
 Despairing of their situation after the depart- 
 vire of the English army, the State.s- 
 peace m"vam! General made proposals of peace to 
 the French government, offering, as 
 an inducement, to recognise the Republic, and 
 pay down two himdred millions of francs. The 
 proposals were in the highest degree desirable, 
 as the success of the invasion depended entirely 
 on the continuance of the frost, and an accom- 
 modation with Holland would disengage fifty 
 thousand men for operations on the Rhine ; but 
 the Committee of Public Safety, carried away 
 by success, and desirous, at all hazards, of estab- 
 lishing a revolutionary government in Holland, 
 haughtily rejected them, and ordered Pichegru 
 instantly to invade that devoted country.t 
 
 The continuance of the frost, which had now 
 set in with more severity than had been known 
 for a hundred years, gave an unlooked-for suc- 
 cess to this ambitious determination. On the 
 Jan. 8, 1795. 8th of January the French army 
 French cross crossed the Waal, now almost com- 
 the Waal, pletely frozen, at various points, which 
 was facilitated by the capture of Thiel by Gen- 
 eral Moreau. A battle now could alone save 
 the Dutch Republic; but the dejected state of 
 the army, suffering under the extrenrity of cold 
 and hardship, v/ith the thermometer at 17'-' of 
 Reaumur, rendered this a hopeless alternative. 
 Walmoden, therefore, abandoned Holland alto- 
 gether, and, retiring to the line of the Issel from 
 Arnheim to Zutphen, left the United Provinces 
 to their fate.i 
 
 The situation of the Stadtholder was now 
 
 * Jom., Y-i., )8fi, 188. 
 + Jom., vi., 1S9, 191. 
 t J(im., vi., 192, 193. 
 I) Th., VI., 191. To'ol. 
 
 TouL, v., 170. 
 Th., vii., 191. 
 
 Th., vu., 1S&-190. 
 
 in the highest degree embarrassing. sia<Jtholder 
 Abandoned by the army of General embarks for 
 Walmoden, unable with his single England, 
 forces to make head against the torrent of the 
 Republican forces, distracted by the divisions in 
 all the great towns in his re;ir. and daily expect- 
 ing a revolution at Amsterdam, the Prince of 
 Orange resolved to abandon the Republic alto- 
 gether, and embark for England. With this 
 view he presented himself before the States-Gen- 
 eral, and, after declaring that he had done his 
 utmost to save the country, but without success, 
 avowed his resolution of retiring from his com- 
 mand, and recommended them to make a separ- 
 ate peace with the enemy. On the following 
 day he embarked at Schevennigen, and the 
 States immediately issued an order to their sol- 
 diers to cease all resistance to the invaders, and 
 despatched ambassadors to the headquarters of 
 Pichegru to propose terms of peace.* 
 
 Meanwhile the French generals, desirous to 
 avoid the appearance of subjugating 
 the Dutch, were pausing in their ca- ^-tdt.'^ 
 reer ot success, in expectation oi 
 revolutionary movements manifestingthemselves 
 in the principal towns. General Daendels wrote 
 to the leaders of the insurrection: "The repre- 
 sentatives of France are desirous that the Dutch 
 people should enfranchise themselves ; they will 
 not subdue them as conquerors; they are only 
 Avaiting till the inhabitants of Haarlem, Leyden, 
 and Amsterdam rise in a body, and unite them- 
 selves to their brethren who have taken the lead 
 at Bois le Due." The receipt of this ofler raised 
 to the utmost height the public effervescence at 
 Am,sterdam. The popular party of ^g j_g^ 
 
 1787 assembled in great numbers, ^"' ' 
 and besieged the burgomasters in the town hall ; 
 tlie advanced guard of the French army was al- 
 ready at the gates ; terror seized the which admiu 
 bravest hearts ; the magistrates re- the French 
 signed their authority; the Demo- troops, 
 cratic leaders were installed in their stead; the 
 tricolour flag hoisted on the Hotel de Ville ; and 
 the Republican troops, amid the shouts of the 
 multitude, entered the city.t 
 
 The conquest of this rich and powerful city, 
 which had defied the whole power of Louis XIV., 
 and imposed such severe conditions on France 
 at the treaties of Utrecht and Aix-la-Chapelle, 
 was of immense importance to the French gov- 
 ernment. Utrecht, Leyden, Haarlem, and all 
 the other towns of the Republic underwent a 
 similar revolution, and everywhere received the 
 French soldiers as deliverers : the power of the 
 convention soon extended from the Pyrenees to 
 the northern extremity of Friesland. The im- 
 mense naval resources, the vast wealth which 
 a?es of independence had accumulated in the 
 United Provinces, lay at the mercy of the con- 
 vention. This great revolution, to the honour 
 of the Democratic party be it recorded, was ac- 
 complished without bloodshed, or any of the sav- 
 age cruelty which had stained the first efforts of 
 a' free spirit in France: a signal example of the 
 influence of free institutions in softening the as- 
 perity of civil dis.sension, calculated to alleviate 
 many of the gloomy anticipations which the an- 
 nals of the French Revolution might othem'ise 
 produce. 
 
 These successes were soon followed by others, 
 if possible, still more marvellous. On the same 
 
 v., 171. Jom., ^,■i., 19G. 
 
 * Th., 
 
 t Jom., 
 
 191. 
 
 ,200. 
 
 Jom , vi., 199. 
 Toul.,T., 175. 
 
 Th., vu., 192. 
 
314 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 day on which General Daendels had entered Am- 
 ' Ti,.f I, a » stcrdam, the left Avini^s of the arniv, 
 
 Dutch fleet ,. ' . i r , i- t-. ■ i ■ 
 
 ' cdpture<l by alter passing the Lake ol Biesbos on 
 the French the ice, made themselves masters of 
 cavalry. jj^g great arsenal of Dordreclit, con- 
 taining six hundred pieces of cannon, ten thou- 
 .sand muskets, and immense stores of ammuni- 
 tion. The same division immediately after pass- 
 ed through Rotterdam and took possession of the 
 Hague, where the States -General were assembled. 
 To complete the wonders of the campaign, a 
 body of cavalry and flying artillery crossed the 
 Zuyder Zee on the ice, and summoned the fleet, 
 lying frozen up at the Te.vel ; and the command- 
 ers, confounded at the hardihood of the enter- 
 prise, surrendered their ships to this novel spe- 
 cies of assailants. At the same time, the province 
 of Zealand capitulated to the French troops; 
 and the right wing of the army continuing its 
 successes, compelled the English to abandon tlie 
 line of the Issel; Friesland and Groningen were 
 successively evacuated, and the whole United 
 Provinces overrun by the Republican arms. 
 The English government, finding their services 
 useless on the Continent, dismissed the Hanove- 
 rians to their native counti^-, and the British, em- 
 barked on board their ships, speedily carried the 
 terror of their arms to the remotest colonies of 
 the Indian seas.* 
 
 The discipline of the French soldiers during 
 this campaign contributed as much as their val- 
 our to these astonishing successes. Peaceable 
 citizens converted into soldiers by the decree of 
 September, 1793, were rapidly converted into dis- 
 ciplined soldiers ; after eight months of marches 
 and combats, they undertook without murmur- 
 ing a winter campaign ; destitute of almost eve- 
 r}"£hing, from the extreme depression of the pa- 
 per money, t in which they received their pay, 
 they crossed numerous streams in tlie depth of a 
 rigorous winter, and peneti-ated, alter a month's 
 bivouacking, to Amsterdam, Avithout having 
 committed the slightest disorder. The inhabi- 
 tants of that wealthy capital, justly apprehensive 
 of pillage from the entrance of so necessitous a 
 body, were astonished to see ten regiments of 
 soldiers, half naked, defile through their streets 
 to the sound of military music, pile their arms 
 in the midst of ice and snow, and calmly wait, 
 as in their own metropolis, the quarters and bar- 
 racks assigned for their lodging.: 
 
 It was such splendid conduct as this wliich 
 Violent meas- ^prfad SO generally, and perpetuated 
 ure of spolia- ^o long, the general illusion in la- 
 tion adopted vour of Republican institutions ; 
 by the French. },ut t[;,e Dutch were not long in be- 
 ing awakened to sad realities from their deceit- 
 ful dream: forty of their ships of war had been 
 ■withdrawn with the Prince of Orange, and were 
 lodged in the British ports; the remaining fifty 
 were immediately taken possession of by the 
 Republicans for the service of the French. The 
 credit of the famous Bank of Amsterdam was 
 Aaolently shaken, and owed its withstanding the 
 shock to the intervention of government ; forced 
 requisitions to an immense amount of clothing, 
 stores, and provisions, gave them a foretaste of 
 
 * Jom., vi., 208, 212. Th., vii., 194, 195. 
 
 t The soldiers being still paid in assignats, which passed 
 only for one tifteenth of their real value, the pay of au offi- 
 cer was only equal in real value to three francs, or half a 
 crown a month. In 1795, one third was paid in .specie, 
 whit-h raised tlie income of a captain to seventy francs, or 
 three pounds sterling a month. — Jom., vi., 214. 
 
 4; Jooi., VI., 215. Th., vii., 193. 
 
 the sweets of military' dominion; while a com- 
 pulsory regulation, which compelled the shop- 
 keepers to accept of the depreciated French as- 
 signats at the rate of nine sous for a franc, re- 
 stored the army to abundance b}' throwing the 
 loss arising from the depreciation upon the in- 
 habitants of the enfranchised capital.* 
 
 To complete the picture of this memorable 
 campaign, it is only necessar}" to recount the 
 concluding operations on the Upper Rhine and 
 the Alps. 
 
 The check at Kayserslautem having induced 
 the French government to re-enforce their troops 
 on the German frontier, ten thousand men were 
 withdrawn from Savoy, and fifteen thousand 
 from La Vendee, to augment the armies on the 
 Rhine. By the middle of June the amiies ou 
 the Rhine amounted to 114,000 men, of whom 
 fifty thousand were on the lower part of the river, 
 forty thousand on the upper, and twenty-four 
 thouscmd in the Vosges Mountains. The Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety incessantly concluding 
 impressed upon General Michaud, operations oa 
 who commanded them, the necessi- ^''^ Rbine. 
 t}'- of taking the initiative, by renewing his at- 
 tacks without intermission, and of acting in 
 large masses; but that general, not sufiiciently 
 aware of the new .species of warfare which the 
 Republicans had commenced, adhered to the old 
 system of a parallel attack along the whole line. 
 The action look place ou the 2d of Jul}', j , g 
 and led to no decisive result. The ene- 
 my were touched at all points, but vigorously 
 pushed at none, and one thousand men lost to 
 the Republicans without any advantage. Upoa 
 receiving intelligence of this check, Camot re- 
 newed his orders to concentrate his forces, and 
 act by columns on particular points. A fort- 
 night after the attack was renewed, and by a con- 
 centrated effort against the centre of the allied 
 position, their whole army was compelled to re- 
 tire.t The Republicans advanced in pursuit as 
 far as Frankenthal, and resumed the line of the 
 Rehback, abandoned at the commencement of 
 the campaign. In this afiair the allies lost three 
 thousand men, and the spirit of victory was 
 transferred to the other side. 
 
 Both parties remained in a state of inactivity 
 after this contest, until the begining of Au- ^^^ g 
 gust, when the anny of the Moselle, be- " °' 
 ing re-enforced by fifteen thousand choice troops 
 from La Vendee, and raised to forty thousand 
 men, made a forward movement and Army of the 
 occupied Treves. But while this Moselle occu- 
 was going forward, the Prussian ar- v^s Troves, 
 my, instructed by their recent disaster, and ob- 
 serving the dispersed position of the French ar- 
 my in the valley of the Rhine, made a sudden 
 attack with twent^'-five thousand men upon the 
 division of General Me\mier at Kayserslautem, 
 totally defeated them, and drove them back with 
 the loss of four thousand men. Had this suc- 
 cess been vigorously supported, it might have 
 led to the most important results, and totally 
 changed the fate of the campaign; but not j^^^ jg 
 being followed up by the bulk of the al- 
 lied force, which still preserved its extended po- 
 sition, it produced only a temporary consterna- 
 tion in the French armies. In effect, such was 
 the inactivity of the allied generals, and their 
 obstinate adherence to the system of position, 
 that they allowed the army of the Moselle, not 
 fortv thousand stron?, to remain undisturbed in 
 
 * Th., vii., 199. t Jom., vi., 59, 75, 77. Th., vii., 83, 89. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 345 
 
 Treves for two months, though flanked on one 
 side by sixly-tive thousand Prussians and Aus- 
 irians, who occupied the Palatinate, and on the 
 other by eighty thousand Iinperialist.s, who 
 were encamped in the neighbourhood of Lux- 
 embourg.* 
 
 At length, in the beginning of October, the 
 Q J, Comniittee of Public Safety directed the 
 '■ armies of the Moselle and the Rhine to 
 imite and expel the allies from the Palatinate. 
 Their junction having been eflected, and the re- 
 ,„. , treat of Clairfait beyond the Rhine 
 
 Allies driven j ^i • ■ i.^ A i . i, * 
 
 over the Rhine, exposcd their Tight tiank to be turn- 
 aiid M;iycnce eil, the Prussians feil back to May- 
 mvested. ence, and crossed to the right bank 
 
 by its bridge of boats. That imjiortant fortress 
 was soon after invested ; Rheiniels, contrary to 
 the most express orders, evacuated ; and the old 
 Marshal Bender shut up in the great fortress of 
 Luxembourg with ten thousand men. The rig- 
 ours of the season, and the contagious diseases 
 incident to the great accumulation of young sol- 
 diers, soon filled the hospitals, and the Republi- 
 can armies were more severely weakened by the 
 mortality of their winter rest than they had been 
 by the losses of a summer campaign. t 
 
 In Savoy, the great detachments made in June 
 Conclusion of ^0 re-enforce the army of the Rhine, 
 the campaign reduced the French armies to the de- 
 lu Savoy. fensiv^e ; and they confined their ef- 
 forts to maintain themselves Till the falling of the 
 snows on the summits of the Alps, from the 
 neighbourhood of Gex to the valley of the Stura. 
 The plan of Bonaparte for the invasion of Pied- 
 mont by the valley of the Stura was not adopted 
 by the Committee of Public Safety, and the 
 breathing-time thus afforded them enabled the 
 court of Turin to recover from their consterna- 
 tion. Not disconcerted with this, he presented a 
 second plan to the government, the object of 
 ■which was to move forward the army of Italy to 
 Demonte, and after reducing that place, advance 
 to the valley of Coni, while sixteen thousand 
 men, from the army of the Alps, covered their 
 operations ; the result of which would have been, 
 that fifty thousand men would have taken up 
 their winter-quarters on the southern side of the 
 Alps. The fall of Robespierre prevented the e?:- 
 ecution of this plan, and postponed for two years 
 the glories of the Italian campaign. Reduced, 
 by the orders of the new government, to defensive 
 measures, the army of the Alps yet gained a brill- 
 iant advantage, by defeating a corps of ten thou- 
 sand Austrians and Piedmontese, M^ho had ad- 
 vanced, in concert v\"ith the Engli.sh fleet, against 
 Savona, in order to cut otf the communication 
 between the Republicans and the State of Genoa, 
 from which their principal resources were deri- 
 ved. After this success both parties retired into 
 their winter-quarters, and the snows of that rig- 
 orous season there, as elsewhere, gave repose to 
 the contending armies.: 
 
 The contest in La Vendee, which a little hu- 
 Renewal of canity on the part of the government 
 the war in Would have completely terminated af- 
 La Vendee, ter the victories of Savenay and Mans, 
 was rekindled during this year by the severities 
 exercised towards the vanquished. The state of 
 La Vendee at this period is thus painted by an 
 eyewitness attached to the Republican armies: 
 " I did not see a single male being at the towns 
 St. Amand, Chantonnay, or Herbiers. A few 
 
 * Jom., vi., 78, 87. Th., vii., 89. 
 
 t Join., vi., 86-91. Th., vii., 89. 
 
 t Th.. vii., 90, 91. Jom., vi., 97, 110, 114. 
 
 Vol. I.— Xx 
 
 women alone had escaped the Republican sword. 
 Country-seats, once so numerous in that coun- 
 try, farmhouses, cottages, in fine, habitations of 
 every sort, had been reduced to ashes. The herds 
 and flocks were wandering in terror around their 
 usual places of shelter, now smoking in ruins, 
 and lowing in vain lor the hands which were 
 wont to feed them. At night, the flickering and 
 dismal blaze of conflagration aflbrded light over 
 the whole country. The bleating of the disturb- 
 ed llocks, and the bellowing of the terrified cattle, 
 was drowned in the hoai'se notes of the ravens, 
 and the howling of the wolves and other wild an- 
 imals, who had been attracted from afar to the 
 scene of slaughter. As I journeyed in the night, 
 guided by the uncertain light of the flames, a dis- 
 tant column of fire, widening and increasing as 
 I approached, served as a beacon. It was the 
 town of Mortagne in flames.* When I arrived 
 there, no living creatures were to be seen except 
 a few wretched women, who were striving to 
 save some renmants of their property during the 
 general conflagration." 
 
 These appalling cruelties Avere universal, and 
 produced the usual effect of such excessive and 
 uncalled-for severity. The infernal columns of 
 Thurreau, the uoyades of Carrier, drove the Ven- 
 deans to desperation. '■ Nulla spes victis si nou 
 desperare salutem," became the principle of a 
 new war, if possible, more murderous and disas- 
 trous than the former; but it was conducted on a 
 different principle. Broken and dispersed by the 
 Republican forces, pierced in every direction by 
 the infernal columns, the Vendeans were unable 
 to collect any considerable body of forces ; but 
 from amid their woods and fastnesses, they main- 
 tained, in detached parties, an undaunted resist- 
 ance. Stolflet and Charette continued, after the 
 death of the other chiefs, to direct their efforts, 
 but their mutual jealousy prevented any opera- 
 tions of considerable importance, and led them to 
 sacrifice to their ambition the gallant M. de Ma- 
 rigny, one of the most intrepid and constant of 
 the Royalist leaders.t 
 
 In the spring of 1794, General Thurreau es- 
 tablished sixteen intrenched camps stormino of 
 round the insurgent district; but the Thurreau's 
 detachment of twenty-five thousand intrenched 
 men from La Vendee to the Pyrenees <=amps. 
 and the Moselle having compelled him to re- 
 main on the defensive, the Royalists took advan- 
 tage of the respite thus afforded to reorganize 
 their forces. Forty thousand men, including two 
 thousand horse, were soon under anns in this un- 
 conquerable district, with which Charette storm- 
 ed three of the intrenched camps, and put their 
 garrisons to the sword. t 
 
 Meanwhile, the severities of the Republicans, 
 in persecuting the peasants of Brittany, who shel- 
 tered the fugitive Vendeans, kindled a new and 
 terrible warfare in that extensive province, which,^ 
 under the name of the Chouan War, long con- 
 sumed the vitals, and paralyzed the forces of the 
 Republic. The nobles of that district, Puisaye, 
 Bourmont, George Cadouhal, and others, com- 
 menced a guerilla warfare with murderous effect, 
 and soon, on a space of twelve hundred square 
 leagues, thirty thousand men were in amis, in de- 
 tached parties of two or three thousand each.§ 
 
 Brittany, intersected by wooded ridges, abound- 
 ing with "hardy smugglers, ardently devoted to 
 the Rovalist cause, and containing a population: 
 
 * Mem. d'un Ancien Administratur des Annees Repiit)- 
 
 licans, p. 97. t Jom., v., 278. Lac, xii., 295. 
 
 t Lac, xii., 297. Jom., vi., 284. Worn., vi., 243-246.. 
 
346 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVI. 
 
 of 2.500,000 souls, afforded far gi'eater resources 
 for tlie Royali.st cause than the desolated La Ven- 
 dee, which never contained a third of that num- 
 ber of inhabitants. Puisaye was the soul of the 
 insurrection. Proscribed by the convention, with 
 a price set upon his head; wandering from cha- 
 teau to chateau, from cottage to cottage, he be- 
 came acquainted with the spirit of the Britons, 
 their inextinguishable hatred of the convention, 
 and conceived the bold design of 
 
 Hise of the 
 
 Chouaa war. 
 
 hoisting the royal standard 
 
 jam 
 amid its secluded fastnesses. His 
 indefatigable activity, energetic character, and 
 commanding eloquence, eminently qualified this 
 intrepid chief to become the leader of a party, 
 and soon brought all the other Britou nobles to 
 range themselves under his standard. Early in 
 1794 he opened a communication with the Eng- 
 lish government, and strongly urged the immedi- 
 ate landing of an expedition often thousand men, 
 ■with arms and ammunition, with which he an- 
 SM'ered for the re-establishment of the Royalist 
 
 ,. ^ ^ cause. So formidable did this war 
 
 its Tast extent. , .u .. o • . 
 
 soon become, that, accordmg to an 
 
 official report of Carnot, before the end of the 
 year there were no less than 120,000 Republicans 
 on the shores of the ocean, of whom above eighty 
 thousand were in active warfare. Even in Nor- 
 mandy, the seeds of revolt were beginning to 
 manifest themselves ; and detached parties show- 
 ed themselves between the Loire and the Seine, 
 •which struck terror into Paris itself " On con- 
 sidering this state of affairs," says Jomini, " it is 
 evident that there existed over all the west of 
 France powerful elements of resistance, and that, 
 if they had been united under one head, and sec- 
 onded by the allied powers, it was by no means 
 impossible to have restored the Royalist cause." 
 Had the Duke d'Enghien, with a few thousand 
 men, landed in Brittany, and established a coun- 
 cil, directing alike Puisaye, Bemier, Stofllet, Sa- 
 pinaud, Scapeaux, and others, so as to combine 
 their energies for one common object, instead of 
 acting as they did, without any concert, in detach- 
 ed quarters, it is impossible to calculate what 
 the result might have been. It is painful to think 
 what at that crisis might have been effected, had 
 fifteen thousand troops from England formed the 
 nucleus of an army, made the Royalists masters 
 of .some of the fortified seaport towns with which 
 the coast abounded, and lent to the insurgents the 
 aid of her fleet and the terrors of her name.* 
 ■ ; Such was the memorable campaign of 1794, 
 Immense re- one of the most glorious in the an- 
 Buits of the nals of France — not the least memo- 
 campaign, rable in the history of the world. Be- 
 ginning on everj' side under disastrous or crit- 
 ical circumstances, it terminated with universal 
 glory. The allies, at its commencement, were 
 besieging, and soon captured the last of the 
 Flemish frontier towns ; the forces on the P^hine 
 were unable to make head against their adver- 
 saries; the Alps were .still in the possession of 
 the Sardinian troops, and severe disasters had 
 checkered the campaign at both extremities of 
 the Pyrenees. At its conclusion, the Spaniards, 
 defeated both in Biscay and Catalonia, were su- 
 ing for peace; the Piedmontese, driven over the 
 summit of the Alps, were trembling for their 
 Italian possessions ; the allied forces had every- 
 where recrossed the Rhine; Flanders wa.s sub- 
 •Jued, La Vendee vanquished, Holland revolu- 
 tionized, and the English baimers had fled for 
 
 Jom., Ti., 234, 252. 
 
 refuge into the states of Hanover. From a state 
 of depression greater than the darkest era of 
 Louis XIV., France had passed at once to tri- 
 umphs greater than had graced the proudest pe- 
 riod of his reign. 
 
 But these immense successes had not been 
 gained without proportionate losses, xhe i>rodi- 
 and it was already evident that the gious forces 
 enormous sacrifices by which they <^' 'he Re- 
 had been achieved could not be con- P"''^"=- 
 tinned for any length of time without inducing na- 
 tional ruin. During the course of the campaign 
 the Republic had strained every nerve ; 1,700,000 
 men had at one time combated by sea and land 
 under its banners; and at its close, 1,100,000 
 were still numbered in the rolls of the army. 
 But of this great force only 600,000 were actu- 
 ally under arms ; the remainder encumbered the 
 hospitals, or were scattered in a sickly or dying 
 state in the villages on the line of the army's 
 march. The disorder in the commissariat and 
 departments intrusted with the clothing and 
 equipment of the troops had risen to the highest 
 pitcli; hardly any exertions could have provided 
 for the wants of such a multitude of armed men, 
 and the cupidity or selfishness of the Revolution- 
 ary agents had diverted great part of the funds 
 destined lor these objects into the accumulation 
 of their private fortunes. It augments our ad- 
 miration for the soldiers of the Republic when 
 we recollect that their triumphs were generally 
 achieved without magazines, tents, or equip- 
 ments of any kind ; that the armies, destitute of 
 ever\'thing,* bivouacked in the most rigorous 
 season equally with the mildest, and that the in- 
 numerable multitudes who issued from its fron- 
 tiers almost always provided for their daily 
 wants from the country through which they 
 passed. 
 
 Nothing could have enabled the government 
 to make head against such expenses ,„„^„^^ ,^. 
 but the system oi assignats, which, sues of assig- 
 in effect, for the time, gave them the nats to uphold 
 disposal of all the wealth of France.t these ?redt ex- 
 The funds on which this enormous l"'"^'^^- 
 paper circulation was based, embracing all the 
 confiscated property in the kingdom, in lands, 
 houses, and movables, was estimated at fifteen 
 milliards, or nearly ^700,000,000 sterling; but 
 in the distracted state of the countr}-, few pur- 
 chasers could be found for such immense nation- 
 al domains, and, therefore, the security for all 
 practical purposes was merely nominal. The 
 consequence was, that the assignat fell to one 
 twelfth of its real value ; in other words, an as- 
 signat for tAventy-four francs was only worth 
 two francs ; that is, a note for a pound was worth 
 only !,<;. 8'/. As all the payments, both to and 
 by government, were made in this depreciated 
 currency, and as it constituted the chief, and in 
 many places the sole circulation of the country, 
 the losses to creditors or receivers of money of 
 evei3' description became enormous ;+ and, in 
 fact, the public expenses were defrayed out of 
 the chasm made in their private fortunes. It 
 
 * .lom., vi.. 214, 215. Toul., v., 194. 
 
 t The monthly expenses of the war had risen to 200,000,000 
 francs, or nearly £8,000,000, while the income was only 
 60,000,000, or £2,400,000 ; an enormous deficit, amounting 
 to £75,000,000 in the year, which was supplied only by the 
 incessant issue of paper money, Waring, by law, a for- 
 ced circulation. There were 7,500.000,000 of francs, or 
 £330,000,000 in circulation ; the sum in the treasury was 
 still 500,000,000, or £-20.000,000 ; so that the amount iss.ied 
 bv government was ci^ht milliards, or £350.000.000 ster- 
 ling.— Toul., v., 194. Th., vii., 239. t Th., vii., 239. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 347 
 
 was evident that such a state of things could not 
 continue permanently ; iind, accordingly, the na- 
 tional exliau.siion appeared in the campaign of 
 17i)5, and the Republic would have sunk under 
 the lailnre of its iinancial resources in a few 
 j'cars, had not the genius of Napoleon discover- 
 ed a new mode of maintaining the armies, and by 
 making war maintain war, converted a suffering 
 defensive into an irresistible aggressive power. 
 At the commencement of the campaign, the 
 
 .„ . allies were an overmatch lor the 
 
 rroBTCssive in- „ , ^ . . j .u 
 
 creiisB of the French at every point, and the su- 
 Freiich forces pei'iority of their discipline was 
 <kiriii? iho more especially evident in the move- 
 campaign. ments and attacks of large masses. 
 That their enterprises were not conducted with 
 sliill ; that tlicy sulfered under the jealousies and 
 division of the cabinets which directed their 
 movements ; and that, by adhering to the ruinous 
 system of extending their forces, and a war of 
 position, they threw away all the advantages 
 which might have arisen from the number and 
 experience of their forces, must appear evident 
 to the most careless observer. The fate of the 
 campaign in Flanders was decided by the de- 
 tachment of Jourdan, with forty thousand men 
 from the Meuse, to re-enforce the army of the 
 Sarabre; what then might have been expected 
 if Cobourg had early concentrated his forces for 
 a vigorous attack in Flanders, or the inmiense 
 masses which lay inactive on the Rhine been 
 hrought to bear on the general fortune of the 
 campaign 1* 
 
 But it may be doubted whether, by any exer- 
 tions, the allied cause could have 
 The period of j^een fmallv made triumphant in 
 
 success lor the ,-, .. »i • • i --ru •■ r 
 
 alhes was past. France at this period. 1 he tune lor 
 energetic measures was past ; the 
 Revolutionar)' fever was burning with full fury, 
 and 1,. 500, 000 men were in arms to defend the 
 Republic. By bringing up column after column 
 to the attack; by throwing away, with merciless 
 prodigality, the lives of the conscripts ; by sparing 
 neither blood nor treasure to accomplish their 
 objects; by drawing, without scruple, upon the 
 wealth of one half of France by confiscation, and 
 of the other by assignats, the Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety had produced a force which was for the 
 time unconquerable. By a more energetic and 
 combined system of warfare, the allies might 
 have broken through the frontier on more than 
 one point, and wrested from France her frontier 
 fortresses; but they would probably have found 
 in the heart of the country a resistance, which 
 would, in the end, have proved their ruin. What 
 might have been easily done by vigorous mea.s- 
 ures in 1792 or 1793, could not have been accom- 
 
 { dished by any exertions in 1794, after the great 
 evies of the convention had come into the field, 
 and the energy of revolution was turned into mil- 
 itary confidence by the successes which had con- 
 cluded the preceding campaign. 
 
 It deserves notice, too, what signal benefit ac- 
 Ceneral reflec- crued to France in this campaign 
 tions on the from its central position, and the 
 campaign. formidable barrier of fortified towns 
 with which it was surrounded. By possessing 
 an interior, while the allies were compelled to act 
 on an exterior line, the French government was 
 enabled to succour the weak parts of their fron- 
 tier, and could bring their troops to bear in over- 
 whelming masses on one point, while their op- 
 ponents, moving round a larger circumference, 
 
 * Jom., vi., 330, 338. 
 
 charged with the protection of different king- 
 doms, and regulated by distant, and often dis- 
 cordant cabinets, were unable to make corre- 
 sponding movements to resist them. Thus the 
 transference of the army, which conquered at 
 Toulon, to the Eastern Pyrenees ; of the divisions 
 of the army of Savoy to the Rhine; of Jourdan's 
 corps to the Sambre; and of the garrison of 
 Mayence to Nantes ; llie immediate cau.ses of 
 the successes in Catalonia, the Palatinate, Flan- 
 ders, and La Vendee, successively took place, 
 without any corresponding movement having 
 been made in the allied forces opposed to them 
 to re-enforce the threatened quarters. Each di- 
 vision of the allied forces, delighted at being re- 
 lieved from the pressure under which it had pre- 
 viously suffered, relapsed into a state of inactiv- 
 ity, without ever recollecting that, with an active 
 and enterprising enemy, a serious defeat at one 
 point was a disaster at all. 
 
 The Archduke Charles has said that the great 
 superiority of France, in a military Great nulita- 
 point of view, arises from the chain ry effect of 
 of fortresses with which it is sur- the French 
 rounded, whereby it is enabled, with f""'esses. 
 equal facility, to throw delays in the way of an 
 invasion of their own, and to find a solid base 
 for an irruption into their neighbour's teiTitory ; 
 and that the Avant of such a barrier on the right 
 bank of the Rhine is the principal defect in the 
 system of German defence.* The campaign of 
 1794 affords a striking confirmation of this ob- 
 servation. After having driven the French 
 forces, during the campaign of 1793, from the 
 field, and compelled them to seek shelter in in- 
 trenched camps or fortified towns, the allies were 
 so much impeded by the siege of the fbrtresse.s 
 which lay in their road, that they were compelled 
 to halt in their career of success; and France 
 had time to complete the vast armaments which 
 afterward proved so fatal to Europe. When 
 the Republic, on the other hand, became the in- 
 vading power in 1794, the want of any fortified 
 towns to resist their progress enabled them to 
 overrun Flanders, and drive the allies, in a few 
 weeks, beyond the Rhine. This consideration is 
 of vital importance, both in the estimate of the 
 relative power of France and the neighbouring 
 states, and in all measures intended to restrain 
 its ambitious projects. 
 
 There are few spectacles in nature so sublime 
 as that of a people bravely combating for their 
 liberties against a powerful and vindictive ene- 
 my. That spectacle was exhibited in the most 
 striking manner by the French nation during 
 this campaign. The same impartial justice 
 which condemns with unmeasured severity the 
 bloody internal, must admire the dignified and 
 resolute extemal conduct of the convention. 
 With unbending firmness they coerced alike in- 
 ternal revolt and foreign violence; and selecting 
 out of the innumerable ranks of their defenders 
 the most worthy, laid the foundation of that il- 
 lustrious school of military chiefs who after- 
 ward sustained the fortunes of the Empire. It 
 is melancholy to be obliged to admit that it was 
 this cruelty which was one cause of their tri- 
 umphs; and that the fortunes of the Republic 
 might have sunk under its difficulties but for the 
 inflexible severity with which they overawed the 
 discontented, and the iron rule of terror, which 
 drew out of the agonies of the state the means of 
 its ultimate deliverance. The impartial ju.stice 
 
 Archdulie Charles, i., p. 274. 
 
34S 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVU. 
 
 of Providence apparently made that terrific pe- 
 riod the means ot ptmisliing the national sins of 
 both the contending parties ; and while the sulier- 
 ings of the Republic were the worthy retribution 
 
 of its cruelty, the triumphs to which they led 
 brousht deserved chastisement on those powers 
 who had sought, in that suflering, the means of 
 unjust aggrandizement. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WAR IN POLAND, 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Immense Extent of Poland in former Times. — Causes of its 
 continual Disasters. — It has retained the Pastoral and In- 
 dependent Character unmixed. — Representative System 
 arose from the Councils of the Church. — No Intermixture 
 of Foreifpi Customs in Poland. — Its Society differently 
 consti-ucted from any in Europe. — They still retain the 
 Taste and Habits of the Nomade Tribes. — Their early and 
 indomitable Democratic Spirit. — The Clergy formed a 
 different Body from any in Europe. — Nobibty never en- 
 gaged in any Profession or Trade, which all fell into the 
 Hands of the Jews. — Liberty and Equality the early Pas- 
 sion of the People. — No hereditary Offices admitted in the 
 Nobility. — Crown ultimately became Elective. — General 
 .Assemblies of the People.— The Liberura Veto. — Repre- 
 sentative System never thoroughly established. — Pledges 
 universally exacted from the Deputies, and they were 
 regularly called to Account for their Conduct. — Great In- 
 crease of the Democratic Power at the Close of the Eigh- 
 teenth Century. — Forces of the Republic. — Their long and 
 desperate Wars with the Asiatic Tribes. — Their Weak- 
 ness early suggested the Idea of Dismemberment to the 
 adjoining States. — Great Exploits of John Sobieski. — His 
 prophetic Anticipation of the Partition of Poland from its 
 Democratic Divisions. — With him the Polish Power was 
 *xtinguished. — Excessive Democratic Strife after his 
 Death. — Increasing Weakness and Anarchy of the Re- 
 public, which made their Partition in 1772 easy. — When 
 too late, they abandon their ruinous Democratic Privi- 
 leges. — Commencement of their last Struggle. — They 
 take up Arms from Despair, and elect Kosciusko as a 
 Leader. — He defeats the Russians at Raslawice. — War- 
 saw is taken by the Insurgents. — Poles in the Russian 
 Army disbanded. — Great Exertions of Kosciusko. — Want 
 of a large regular Force proved fatal to him. — Russians 
 and Prussians advance against Warsaw, but are compelled 
 to raise the Siege. — Suwarrow defeats one of their Corps, 
 and Kosciusko is routed and made Prisoner at Maciowice. 
 — Patriots shut themselves up in Warsaw. — Storming of 
 Piaga and Warsaw by Suwarrow. — Atrocious Massacre 
 by the Russians. — Great Sensation produced l)y the Fall 
 of Warsaw in Europe. — Poland fell the Victim of Damo- 
 cratic Madness and Oppression. — Striking Contrast af- 
 forded by the steady Growth of Russia. — Subsequent Pun- 
 ishment of the partitionary Powers. — Gallant Spirit of the 
 exiled Polish Bands. — Comparison of Polish and Eugbsh 
 History. — Disastrous Effect of the Polish War on the 
 Coalition against France. 
 
 Providence has so interwoven human affairs, 
 that when we wish to retrace the revolutions of 
 a people, and to investigate the causes of their 
 grandeur or misfortune, we are insensibly con- 
 ducted step by step to their cradle. The slight- 
 est consideration of the History of Poland must 
 be sufficient to prove that that great nation, al- 
 ways combating, often victorious, but never se- 
 curing its conquests, has from the earliest times 
 been on the decline.* It emerged from the shock 
 which overthrew tiie Roman Empire, valiant, 
 powerful, and extensive ; from that hour it has 
 invariably drooped, until at length it became the 
 victim of its ancient provinces. 
 
 The kingdom of Poland formerly extended 
 Immense ex- ^™™ ^'^^ Boiystlienes to the Danube, 
 tent of Po- and from the Euxine to the Baltic, 
 land in for- The Sarmatia of the ancients, it em- 
 mer times, braced within its bosom the original 
 seat of those nations which subverted the Ro- 
 man Empire : Prussia, Moravia, Bohemia, Him- 
 gary, the Ukraine, Courland, Livonia, are all 
 
 * Salvandy, i.. 18. 
 
 fragments of its might}' dominion. The Goth."^, 
 who appeared as suppliants on the Danube, and 
 were lerried across by Roman hands never to re- 
 cede ; the Huns, who, under Attila, spread deso- 
 lation through the empire ; the Sclavonians, who 
 overspread the greater part of Europe, emerged 
 from its vast and uncultivated plains. But its 
 subsequent progress has but ill corresponded to 
 such a commencement ; while in all other states, 
 liberty, riches, power, and gloiy have advanced 
 with equal steps, and the victories of one age have 
 contributed to the advancement of that which 
 succeeded it ; in Poland alone, the greatest tri- 
 umphs have been immediately succeeded by the 
 greatest reverses ; the establishment of its inter- 
 nal freedom has led to nothing but external disas- 
 ter, and the deliverer of Europe in one age was in 
 the next swept from the book of nations. 
 
 This extraordinary histor\" has all arisen from 
 one cause — that Poland has retain- causes of its 
 ed, till a very recent period, the in- continued dis- 
 dependence and equality of savage asters, 
 life. It has neither been subjugated by more 
 polished, nor itself vanquished more civilized 
 states. The equality and valour of the pastoral 
 character have, in their native plains, remained 
 imchanged during fifteen hundred years, neither 
 grafted on the stock of urban libert}', nor mould- 
 ed by the institutions of civilized society. Po- 
 land shows what in its original state was the 
 equality of pastoral life : neither the resistance, 
 nor the tastes, nor the intelligence, nor the blood 
 of vanquished nations have altered in its inhab- 
 itants the inclinations and passions of the savage 
 character. We may see in its history what 
 would have been the fate of all the Northern na- 
 tions, if their fierce and unbending temper had 
 not been tempered by the blood, and moulded by 
 the institutions of a more advanced civilization; 
 and in the anarchy of its diets, what Avould have 
 been the representative system, had the dream 
 of Montesquieu been well-founded, that it was 
 found in the woods.* 
 
 The shepherds who wandered in the plains of 
 Sarmatia were, like all other pasto- j^ j^^^ retain- 
 ral tribes, inflamed by the strongest cd the pastoral 
 passion for that savage freedom, and independ- 
 which consists in leading a life ex- ent character 
 empt from all control — in wander- """"^s^- 
 ing at will over boundless plains, resting where 
 they chose, and departing when they wished. In 
 their incursions into the Roman provinces they 
 collected immense troops of captives, who were 
 compelled to perfonn the works of drudgery, in 
 which their masters disdained to engage ; to at- 
 tend the cattle, drive the wagons, and make the 
 arms. Their imperious lords, acknowledging- 
 no superior themselves, knew no restraint ia 
 the treatment of their inferiors. With the same 
 energy they asserted that tyranny over that un- 
 happy race, with which they would have resist- 
 
 * Salv., i., 29. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 349 
 
 ed any attempt to encroach on their own inde- 
 pendence. Such as Poland then was, it has 
 ever since continued — a race of jealous lieemen 
 and iron-bound slaves ; a wild democracy ruling 
 a captive people. 
 
 " Ferrea juga 
 Insanumquc forum." 
 
 It is a mistake to suppose that the representa- 
 j, _ tive system was found in the woods. 
 
 tive"^system What was found there was not any- 
 arose I'rom thing resembling parliaments, but Po- 
 the Chris- jigh equalitv. The pastoral nations 
 cits'! '''""'" °^ ^^^ ^on\ equally with the citi- 
 zens of the republics of antiquity, had 
 no idea of the exercise of the rights of lieemen 
 but by the concourse of all the citizens. Of 
 course this privilege could only be exercised by 
 a small number of them when the state became 
 populous, and hence the narrow base on which, 
 •with them, the fabric of liberty was framed. 
 The assemblies of the Champs-de-Mai, accord- 
 ingly, equally with the earliest convocations of 
 the Normans in. England, were attended by all 
 the lieemen who held of the king; and sixty 
 thousand Norman horsemen assembled at Win- 
 chester to deliberate with the conqueror concern- 
 ing the vanquished kingdom.* This was the 
 original system in all the European states, and 
 this is what the Polish Diet has always contin- 
 ued. It was the Christian Church, the parent 
 of so many lofty doctrines and new ideas, which 
 had the glory of offering to the world, amid the 
 ■wreck of ancient institutions, the model of a 
 form of government, which gives to all interests 
 the right of sud'rage, by establishing a system 
 which may embrace the remotest interests ; 
 v.'hich preserves the energ}', and avoids the prin- 
 cipal evils of Democracy ; which maintains the 
 tribune, and shuns the strife of the forum. The 
 Christian councils were the first example of 
 representative assemblies ; there were united the 
 whol^ Roman world ; there a priesthood, which 
 embraced the civilized earth, assembled, by 
 means of delegates, to deliberate on the affairs 
 of the Universal Church. When Europe revi- 
 ved it adopted the same model. Every nation, 
 by degrees, borrowed the customs of the Church, 
 then the sole depository of the traditions of civ- 
 ilization. It was the religion of the vanquished 
 people ; it was the clergy who instructed them 
 in this admirable system, which flourished in 
 the councils of Nice, Sardis, and Byzantium, 
 centuries before it was heard of in the Western 
 world, and which did not arise in the woods of 
 Germany, but in the catacombs of Rome during 
 the sufferings of the primitive Church.t 
 
 Vienna was the frontier station of the Roman 
 No intermix- Empire. It never extended into the 
 ture of foreign Samiatian -wilds, and hence the 
 customsinPo- chief causc of the contimied calam- 
 "'''• ities of their descendants. It was 
 
 the infusion of the free spirit of the Scythian 
 tribes into the decaying provinces of the lloman 
 Empire, and the union of barbaric energy with 
 antiquated civilization, which produced the glo- 
 ries of modem Europe. In Poland alone, sav- 
 age indejiendence remained unmoulded bv for- 
 eign admixture, and the customs of the ea'rliest 
 ages continued unchanged douTi to the partition 
 of the monarchy. After representative assem- 
 blies had been established for centuries in Ger- 
 many, France, and England, the Poles adhered 
 to the ancient custom of summoning every free 
 
 * Thierry, ii,, 28G. 
 
 t Salv., i., lOr, 108. 
 
 man to discuss, sword in hand, tlie affairs of 
 the Republic. An hundred thousand horsemen 
 met in the field of Volo, near Warsaw, to de- 
 liberate on public affairs, and the distractions of 
 these stormy diets M'eakened the nation even 
 more than the attacks of its foreign enemies. 
 Among them was established, to their sorrow, 
 the real system which was invented in the 
 woods.* 
 
 In Poland, accordingly, the structure of society 
 was essentially diflerent from that itssi«:iet- df 
 which obtained in any other part of ferently con- " 
 Europe. The leudal system, the structed from 
 chain of military dependance from any in Europe, 
 the throne to the cottage, was there unknown. 
 The Republic was composed entirely of two 
 classes, the one destined to labour, dejection, and 
 servitude, the other to independence, activity, and 
 Avar. That iron band which held together the 
 discordant elements of modern society, which 
 united the vanquished strong in their civiliza- 
 tion, their laws, and their religion, and the vic- 
 tors strong in their power, their valour, and their 
 conquests ; which bound alike the nobility and 
 the priesthood, the municipalities, and the throne; 
 which, in the wisdom of Providence, amid many 
 evils, produced innumerable blessings, was want- 
 ing to the Poles, and thence it is that Poland is 
 no more. Thence it Avas that she exhibited the 
 spectacle of a nation Avithout a people, since the 
 numerous class of slaves could not deserve that 
 name ; of armies alike AAdthout discipline, in- 
 fantry, or artillery ; of a s^tate undefended by Iron- 
 tier towns ; of cities Avithout a race of burghers, 
 without commerce or industry; of a Republic 
 Avhere the supreme power Avas annihilated, and 
 the checks to it omnipotent.t 
 The taste and the habits of the nomade tribes 
 
 have, almost to our time, predomi- „, ,.„ 
 
 .1 . 1 T-. 1 rn I • 1 1 hev still re- 
 
 nated among the Poles. Theu- Ian- tamihe taste 
 guage, iheir manners, even their and habits of 
 dress, long remained unchanged : '■'* nomade 
 the frequent use of furs, the flowing '^'"''^'^*' 
 pelisse, caps of the skins of wild beasts, the ab- 
 sence of linen, and the magniii cence of their arms, 
 are the characteristics ef their national costume. 
 Till within these fcAv years they wore the singu- 
 lar croAA-n of hair, which in the time of the Scvth- 
 ians encircled their bare heads. The passion 
 for a wandering life has been transmitted to their 
 latest posterity, and remains undiminished amid 
 all the refinements of civilization. To travel in 
 the coimtry, living in (ents, to pass from one en- 
 campment to another, has been in CA^ery age one 
 of the most faA'ourite amusements of the Polish 
 noblesse ; and it Avas in such occupations that 
 the last years of the great Sobieski were em- 
 plo3'ed.: 
 
 This fierce and unbending race of freemen pre- 
 sented inviolate, as the Magna Charta of Poland, 
 the right to assemble in person and deliberate on 
 the public affairs of the state, 'rtie terrible as- 
 sembly, "v/here all the proprietois of the soil 
 were conA'oked, constituted at once the military 
 strength of the nation in war, and its legislature 
 in peace. There were discussed alike the public 
 concerns of the Republic, the priA-ate feuds or 
 gricA'ances of individuals, the questions of peace 
 or war, the formation of laAvs, the division of 
 plunder, and the election of the soA-ereign.§ 
 
 In the eyes of this haughty race, the will of a 
 freeman Avas a thing which no human power 
 
 * Salv., i., lO'J. Rulh., i,, 10, 14. 
 t Salv., i., 31. RuUi., i., 14. 
 I) Rulh., i., 15 
 
 t Salv., i., 39. 
 
350 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIL 
 
 Their early sliould attempt to subjugate ; and 
 ami mdoiui- therefore the fundamental principle of 
 table Ueiuo- all their deliberations was, that una- 
 cratic spirit, nimity was essential to every resolu- 
 tion. This relic of savage equality, of which the 
 traces are still to be found in the far-famed jury 
 system of England, was productive of incalcula- 
 ble evils to the Republic ; and yet so blind are men 
 to the cause of their own ruin, that it was uni- 
 formly adhered to with enthusiastic resolution by 
 the Poles, and is even spoken of with undisguised 
 admiration by their national historians. But all 
 human institutions must involve some methods 
 of extricating public afiaii's, and as imanimity 
 "was not to be expected among so numerous and 
 impassioned a body as their diet, and the idea 
 was not to be entertained for a moment of con- 
 straining the will of any citizen, they adopted the 
 only other method of expediting business — they 
 massacred the recusant. This measure appear- 
 ed to them an incomparably lesser evil than car- 
 rying measures by a majority. " Because," said 
 they, " acts of violence are few in number, and 
 affect only the individual sufferers ; but if once 
 the precedent is established of compelling the 
 minority to yield to the majority, there is an end 
 to any security for the liberties of the people."* 
 
 It may easily be imagined what discords and 
 divisions were nursed up under such a system. 
 Fanned by the flame excited at all their national 
 diets, the different provinces of the Republic have 
 in every age nourished the most profound ani- 
 mosity against each other. The waywods and 
 palatinates, into which every province was divi- 
 ded for the administration of justice or the ar- 
 rangements of war, became divided among each 
 other, and transmitted the feuds of the earliest 
 times to their remotest descendants. " That 
 hierarchy of enmities," as the Poles expressed it, 
 descended even to private families ; in the prog- 
 ress of time, religious discord divided the whole 
 Republic into two parties nearly equal in strength 
 and implacable in hostility, and Poland became 
 an immense field of combat, destined never to 
 know either tranquillity or truce till it passed 
 ixnder the yoke of a foreign master.t 
 
 The clergy, that important body who have done 
 Clersry form- ^'^ niuch for the freedom of Europe, 
 ed a diflfurent never formed a separate order, or 
 Lody from any possessed any spiritual inlluence in 
 in Europe. Poland. Composed entirely of the 
 nobles, they had no sympathy with the serfs, 
 whom they disdained to admit to any of their sa- 
 cred offices. Their bishops interfered, not as pre- 
 lates, but as barons ; not with the wand of peace, 
 but the sword of dissension. The priesthood 
 fcrmed in their stormy diets a sort of tribunes, 
 suDject to the passions of the multitude, but ex- 
 empt, by reason of their sacred character, from 
 the danger which formed a check upon their ex- 
 travagance.. This was another consequence of 
 the Poles not having settled in a conquered coun- 
 try ; the clergy of the other European states, 
 drawn from the vanquished people, formed a link 
 between them and their conquerors, and by rea- 
 son of the influence which their intellectual su- 
 periority conferred, gradually softened the yoke 
 of bondage to the vanquished ; the Polish priest- 
 hood, for.naed entirely of the nobility, added to the 
 chains of slavery the fetters of barbaric super- 
 stition.? 
 
 As if everything was destined to concur for the 
 
 * Salv., i., 40. Rulh., i., 11,34. 
 t Sal»., i., 41. Rulh., i., 25. 
 
 t SalT., i., 62. 
 
 disorganization of Poland, the ine- j^(,bilitv nev- 
 qualiiy of fortimes, and the rise of er ensaged m 
 urban industry, the source of so »"> proii^ssioii 
 much benefit to all the other Euro- "^ "'"''''■ 
 pean monarchies, was there productive only of 
 positive evil. Fearful of being compelled to di- 
 vide their power with the, inferior classes of so- 
 ciety, when elevated by riches and intelligence, 
 the nobles alfixed the stigma of dishonour to ev- 
 ery lucrative or useful profession. Their max- 
 im was, that nobility is not lost by indigence or 
 domestic servitude, but is totally destroyed by 
 commerce and industry ; their constant policy 
 was to debar the serfs from all knowledge of the 
 use of arms, both because they had learned to 
 fear, and because they continued to despise them. 
 In fine, the Polish nobility, strenuously resistinjj 
 every species of power as a usurpation, every 
 kind of industry as a degradation, every attempt 
 at superiority as an outrage, remained to the 
 close of their career at open variance with all 
 the principles on which the prosperity of society 
 depends.* 
 
 As some species of industry, however, is in- 
 dispensable where wealth has begun to accumu- 
 late, and as the vast possessions of the nobility 
 gave great encouragement to those who would 
 minister to their wants, the labour of towns insen- 
 sibly increased, and an urban population gradu- 
 ally arose. But as the nobles were \vhich all fell 
 too proud, and the serfs too indigent, mtotiie haads 
 to engage in such employments, they ffthe Jews, 
 fell exclusively into the hands of a foreign race, 
 who were willing to submit to the degradation 
 for the sake of the profit. The Jews spread like 
 a leprosy over the counti'y, monopolizing every 
 lucrative employment, excluding the peasantry 
 from the chance even of bettering their condition 
 by changing their employment; and superadding 
 to the instinctive aversion of the free citizens at 
 every species ot labour, the horror connected 
 with the occupations of that hateful race* Thus 
 the rise of towns and the privileges of coi'pora- 
 tions, the origin of free institutions in so many 
 other countries, were there productive only of 
 evil, by augmenting the disinclination of all 
 classes to engage in their occupations ; the Jews; 
 multiplied in a country where they were enabled 
 to engross all the industrial occupations ; and at 
 this moment above half of the whole descendants 
 of Abraham are to be found in what formerly 
 were the Polish dominions. + 
 
 Five hxindred years before liberty and equality 
 
 became the watchword of the French x , , . 
 ,-,,.. 1 J- ■ Jjioertv ana 
 
 Revolution, they were the favourite eiiuality tlie 
 principles of the Polish Republic, early priura- 
 Anarchy and disorder did not prevail P'f'^ "*" "^^ . 
 in the country, because the throne '"'°P '^' 
 was elective, but the throne became elective be- 
 cause the people were too jealous of their priv- 
 ileges to aomit of hereditary succession. For an 
 hundred and sixty years the race of the Jagellons 
 sat on the throne of Poland, with as regular a 
 succession as the Plantagenets of England ; and 
 the djmasty of the Piasts enjoyed the government 
 for four hundred years ; but all the efforts of the 
 monarchs of these houses were unequal to the 
 formation of a regular government. Contrary 
 to what obtained in everj' other part of the world, 
 it was always the great kings of Poland who 
 were ultimately overthrown, and their reijjns 
 which were the most stormy of its annals. The 
 supreme authority, which eisewhere, in the prog- 
 
 Sa »., i., 72, 73. 
 
 t Salv., i., 84, 85. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 351 
 
 ress of civilization, wa.s strengthened by the 
 spoils of feudal power, became in Poland only 
 weakened by the lapse of time. All the eflbrts 
 No hereditary ^^ aggrandizement of their greatest 
 offices admit- monarchs were shattered against 
 ted in the no- the compact, independent, and cour- 
 biiity. ageous body of nobles, whom the 
 
 crown could neither overawe by menaces, nor 
 subdue by violence. In the plenitude of their 
 democratic spirit, they would Ibr long admit no 
 distinction among themselves but that which 
 arose from actual employment, and never recog- 
 nised till a very recent period the titles and hon- 
 ours which, in other states, have long been he- 
 reditary. Even when they were established, the 
 jurisdictions were only for life. Their waywods, 
 or military chieftains; their palatines, or leaders 
 of counties ; their castellans, or governors of cas- 
 tles, enjoyed, from the earliest period down to 
 recent times, their authority for that period only. 
 These officers, far from being able in Poland, as 
 in other states, to render their dignities heredita- 
 ry, were not always even nominated by the king. 
 Their authority, especially that of the palatines, 
 gave equal umbrage to the monarchs whom they 
 were bound to obey, as the nobles whom they 
 were intended to lead. There was thus author- 
 ity and power nowhere in the state. The kings 
 of the Piasts made frequent and able efforts to 
 create a gradation of rank in the midst of that 
 democracy, and a body of burghers by the side 
 of these nobles ; but all their attempts proved in- 
 effectual. A race of monarchs, whose succes- 
 sion was frequently interrupted, and authority 
 always contested, could not carry on any syste- 
 matic plan of government ; while, unlike all other 
 states, it was the people who there maintained a 
 systematic and uniform line of conduct.* 
 
 The crown of Poland, though enjoyed long by 
 Crown ulti- the great families of the Jagellons 
 mately became and the Piasts, has always been 
 elective. elective. The king enjoyed the dis- 
 
 posal of all offices in the Republic, and a principal 
 part of his duty consisted ingoing from province 
 to province to administer justice in person. " By 
 my faith," said Henry of Valois, when elected 
 to the throne, " these Poles have made me no- 
 thing but a judge !" But the nobility themselves 
 carried into execution all his sentences with 
 their own anned force. The command of the 
 armies was not, in general, conferred upon the 
 sovereign ; and as there never was any consider- 
 able standing army in the service of the Republic, 
 the military force of the throne was altogether 
 nugatory. t 
 
 But the insurmountable evil, which in every 
 Genera! as- age has opposed the formation of a 
 seraWies of regiilar government in this unhappy 
 the people, country, was the privilege, too firmly- 
 established to be ever shaken, which all the citi- 
 zens had, of assembling together to deliberate on 
 the affairs of the state. So far from adopting 
 the prudent maxim of all regular governments, 
 that a civil war is the greatest of evils, thev have, 
 by this institution, given to their insurrections a 
 legal form. From generation to generation the 
 maxim has been handed down by the Poles : 
 " Burn your houses, and wander over the coun- 
 try with your arms in your hand, rather than 
 submit to the smallest infringement on your lib- 
 erties." The.se assemblies, when once met, uni- 
 ted in themselves the powers of all the ma'ns- 
 
 * Kulh., 1., 5, 14, 24. Salv., 
 t Rulh., 1., J7, 18, 19. 
 
 71, 72, 128. 
 
 trates ; they were to that Republic what the dic- 
 tatorship was to ancient Rome. A Pole, com- 
 pelled to submit to a plurality of sulfrages, would 
 consider himself subjected to the most grievous 
 despotism ; and, consequently, no resolution of the 
 Diet was binding unless it was unanimously 
 agreed to by all the citizens. Any citizen, by 
 the privilege of the liberum veLo, had 
 the power of dissolving the most nu- "^^"^ liberam 
 merous ofthe.se assemblies, or nega- ^^'°' 
 tiving their most important acts; and although 
 the Poles were fully sensible of the ruinous na- 
 ture of this privilege, and pursued with eternal 
 maledictions the individual who exercised it, yet 
 they never could be prevailed upon to abandoa 
 it.* 
 
 These assemblies, so famous in Polish histo- 
 ry, so fatal to her inhabitants, pi-esented so ex- 
 traordinary a spectacle, that it is hardly possible, 
 in reading even the most authentic descriptions of 
 them, to believe that we have not stepped into the 
 regions of Eastern romance. The Plain of Volo, 
 to the west of Warsaw, says Salvandy, had been 
 the theatre, from the earliest times, of the popular 
 elections. Soon the impatient hospolite covered 
 that vast extent with its waves, like an army 
 prepared to commence an assault on a fortified 
 town. The innumerable piles of arms ; the im- 
 mense tables round which faction united its sup- 
 porters ; a thousand jousts with the javelin or the 
 lance ; a thousand squadrons engaged in mimic 
 war; a thousand parties of palatines, governors 
 of castles, and other dignified authorities, who 
 traversed the ranks distributing exhortations, 
 party songs, and largesses ; a thousand caval- 
 cades of gentlemen, who rode, according to cus- 
 tom, with their battle-axes by their sides, and 
 discussed at the gallop the dearest interests of the 
 Republic; innumerable quarrels, originating ia 
 drunkenness, and terminating in blood: .such 
 were the scenes of tumult, amusement, and war, 
 a faithful mirror of Poland, which, as far as the 
 eye could reach, filled the plain. 
 
 The arena was closed in by a vast circle of 
 tents, which embraced, as an immense girdle, 
 the plain of Volo, the shores of the Vistula, and 
 the spires of Warsaw. The horizon seemed 
 bounded by a range of snowy mountains, cf 
 which the summits were portrayed in the hazy 
 distance by their dazzling whiteness. Their 
 camp formed another city, with its markets, its 
 gardens, its hotels, and its monuments. There 
 the great displayed their Oriental magnificence; 
 the nobles, the palatines vied with each other in 
 the splendour of their horses and equipage; and 
 the stranger who beheld for the first time that 
 luxury, worthy of the last and greatest of the 
 nomade people, was never weary of admiring 
 the immense hotels, the porticoes, the colon- 
 nades, the galleries of painted or gilded stuffs, 
 the castles of cotton and silk, with their draw- 
 bridges, towers, and ditches.t 
 
 On the day of the elections the three orders 
 mounted on horseback. The princes, the pala- 
 tines, the bishops, the prelates, proceeded towards 
 the plain of Volo, surrounded by eighty thousand 
 mounted citizens, any one of whom might, at the 
 expiry of a few hours, find himself King of Po- 
 land. They all bore in iheir countenances, even 
 under the jivery or banners of a master, the 
 pride arising from that ruinous privilege. The 
 European dress nowhere appeared on that sol- 
 emn occasion. The children of the desert strove 
 
 Ruhl., )., 18, 24. Salv., i., 111. 
 
 t SaJv., ii., 190. 
 
352 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIf. 
 
 to hide the furs and skins in which they were 
 clothed under chains of gold and the glitter of 
 jewels. Their bonnets were composed of pan- 
 ther skin; plumes of eagles or herons sunnount- 
 ed them: on their front were the most splendid 
 precious stones. Their robes, of sable or ermine, 
 ■were bound with velvet or silver; their girdle 
 studded with jewels : over all their furs were 
 suspended chains of diamonds. One hand of 
 each nobleman was without a glove ; on it was 
 the splendid ring on which the arms of his fam- 
 ily were engraved; the mark, as in ancient 
 Rome, of the equestrian order : another proof of 
 the intimate connexion between the race, the 
 customs, and the traditions of the northern tribes, 
 and the founders of the Eternal City. 
 
 But nothing, in this rivalry of magnificence, 
 could equal the splendour of their arms. Double 
 poniards, double cimeters, set with brilliants ; 
 bucklers of costly workmanship, battlcaxes en- 
 riched in silver, and glittering ^^^th emeralds 
 and sapphires ; bows and arrows riclily gilded, 
 which were borne at festivals, in remembrance 
 of the ancient customs of the country, were to 
 be seen on every side. The horses shared in 
 this melange of barbarism and refinement; some- 
 times cased in iron, at others decorated with the 
 richest colours, they bent under the weight of 
 the sabres, the lances, and javelins by which the 
 senatorial order marked their rank. The bish- 
 ops were distinguished by their gray or green 
 hats, and yellow or red pantaloons, magnificent- 
 ly embroidered with divers colours. Often they 
 laid aside their pastoral habits, and signalized 
 their address as young cavaliers, by the beauty 
 of their arms and the management of their hor- 
 ses. In that crowd of the equestrian order, there 
 was no gentleman so humble as not to try to 
 rival this magnificence. Many carried, in furs 
 and arms, their whole fortunes on their backs. 
 Numbers had sold their voles to some of the 
 candidates for the vanity of appearing witli some 
 additional ornament before their fellow-citizens. 
 And the people, whose dazzled eyes beheld all 
 this magnificence, were almost without clothing ; 
 their long beards, naked legs, and filth indicated, 
 even more strongly than their pale visages and 
 dejected air, all the miseries of servitude.* 
 
 At length, the utter impossibility of getting 
 Representative anything done with these immense 
 system never assemblies of 100,000 citizens on 
 thoroughly es- horseback, and the experienced dif- 
 tabhshed. ficully of finding them subsistence 
 
 for any considerable time, led to the introduc- 
 tion, to a certain extent, of the representative 
 system. This change took place in the year 
 1467, about two hundred years after it had been 
 established in England, and a hundred and eigh- 
 ty after its introduction into Germany. Unfor- 
 tunately, however, it never prevailed generally 
 in the kingdom, and was accompanied with 
 such restrictions as tended to increase ratlier than 
 diminish the divisions of the people. The la- 
 bouring classes were not at all represented; and 
 the nobility never abandoned, and frequently ex- 
 ercised, their rights of assembling in person on 
 all important occasions. These general diets 
 being, after this change, rarer, were more gen- 
 erally attended; and, as they were assembled 
 only on extraordinary occasions, as the election 
 of a king, or a question of peace or war, the 
 passions of the people were increased by the im- 
 portance of their sufii'ages, and inexperience 
 
 * Salv., ii., 190-197. 
 
 added to the sudden intoxication of absolute 
 power.* 
 
 In the true spirit of their Democratic institu- 
 tions, the Poles had no sooner es- pj^j^^^ ^,^.^^^, 
 tablished a representative system, saliy exacted 
 than they surrounded it with such from the depu- 
 checks as not only renderetl it to- ^'^^• 
 tally useless, but positively hurtful. Not un- 
 frequently the electors, terrified at the powers 
 with which they had invested their representa- 
 tives, hastened, sword in hand, to the place of 
 their meeting, prepared, if necessary, to oppose 
 open force to the laws. These stormy assembla- 
 ges were called " Diets under the buckler."' The 
 representatives continued, in the new assemblies, 
 the ruinous law of unanimity, in spite of the ad- 
 vice of the wisest men, and in opposition to their 
 continual remonstrances. This power, of course, 
 was more fully exercised by one among four 
 hundred deputies, who was intrusted with the 
 interest of an extensive palatinate, than by an 
 insulated individual amid a himdred thousand 
 of his fellow-citizens. The clieck, too, which 
 the terror of being massacred imposed upon the 
 exercise of this right in the primary assemblies, 
 was removed when, in the chamber of deputies, 
 uplifted sabres were no longer ready to extermi- 
 nate the recusant. Moreover, the electors, with 
 the jealousy of the Democratic spirit, uniformly 
 exacted from every representative a , , .^ 
 
 , , , , •' ^ "^ ^ And theywere 
 
 pledge how he was to vote on every regularly call- 
 question that came before the as- ed'to account 
 sembly, and, after every session, ^or their cou- 
 held what they called post comUial 
 dkl<:, the object of which was to call him to ac- 
 count for the vote he had given on every occa- 
 sion. In these diets they ran the most imminent 
 risk of being massacred if they had deviated at 
 all from the instructions they had received.t 
 
 The sense of this danger inade the deputies 
 adhere strictly to the orders they had received ; 
 and, as their instructions were extremely vari- 
 ous, the practical result was, that miaiuimity 
 was impos.sible, and business could not be car- 
 ried through. To avoid this, the inajority, in 
 some instances, proceeded by main force to pass 
 raeasures in spite of the minority ; but, as this 
 vvas deemed a direct violation of the Constitu- 
 tion, it invariably led to civil war. Confedera- 
 tions of the minorities were established, diets ap- 
 pointed, marshals elected, and these deplorable 
 factions, which alternately had the king a chief 
 and a captive, Avere regarded as a constitutional 
 mode of extricating the rights of the people. 
 This right of opposition, in the space of two 
 centuries, had the efiect of utterly annihilating 
 every other power in the government. The dep- 
 uties, without ever having made a direct attack 
 upon the throne; without ever having attempted 
 to wrest from the king or the senate the power 
 allotted to them in the Constitution, succeeded, 
 at length, in suspending and neutralizing every 
 other branch of the legislature. The popular 
 attachment to the veto augmented with the prog- 
 ress of wealth, and the increasing opulence of the 
 great families who composed the .senate ; as it re- 
 duced all the citizens, at least on some occasions, 
 to a state of perfect equality. The only astonish- 
 ing thing is, that, with such institutions, the val- 
 our of the Polish nobility should so long have 
 concealed the wealmess arising from their unnily 
 disposition; one would imagine that a people. 
 
 * Rulh., i., 23. Salv., i., 110, 113. 
 t Rulh., i., 24-20. Salv., i., 114. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 353 
 
 Forces of the 
 Republic. 
 
 with such a government, could not exist a year, 
 and yet ihev seemed never wearied either of vic- 
 tories or I'oily.* 
 
 The political crisis which, at the close of the 
 „ sixteenth centurv, convulsed all Eu- 
 
 o/?hc'Demo-' rope, reinstated ihe Poles at once in 
 rratic power all their ruinous Democratic privi- 
 at tlie close of leges, which the influence of their 
 the sixteenth pfe^-eding monarchs had somewhat 
 century. '. . J i i ,r— > .u 
 
 impaued. In the year 15/.), on the 
 
 death of the last race of the Jagellons, the nation 
 at once reasserted and obtained all its original 
 immunities. The command of the armies and 
 the administration of justice were taken from the 
 crown ; two hetmans appointed, one for Lithu- 
 ania, and one for Poland ; each invested with an 
 absolute command over the Ibices of these rival 
 provinces of the Picpublic, and too often, by their 
 jealousies, marred the etlect of their most glori- 
 ous triumphs; while the administration of jus- 
 tice was vested in great supreme tribunals, com- 
 posed of the nobility, who were changed every 
 .tifteen months by new elections, as if to prevent 
 justice ever being administered by those who 
 had any acquaintance with law. Two standing 
 armies were appointed, one for Lithuania, the 
 other for Poland, but hardly amounting in all to 
 ten thousand men ; and even for these, the jeal- 
 ousy of the nobility Avould only permit them to 
 vote the most scanty supplies, which required to 
 be renewed at each successive diet. In conse- 
 quence of this circumstance, the Poles never 
 had an army on which they could rely, worthy 
 either of the name or the strength of the Repub- 
 lic. Their forces were composed of 
 five parts : the national troops, or a 
 small body of regular soldiers paid 
 and equipped by the Republic ; the pospolite, or 
 general assembly of all the free citizens on horse- 
 back ; the armed valets, whose rapine in general 
 did more harm than their courage did service; 
 the artilleiy, which was generally in the most 
 wretched condition ; and the mercenaries, com- 
 posed chiefly of Germans, whose services would 
 have been of gi-eat importance had their fidelity 
 been secured by regularity of pay. The whole 
 body of the pospolite, the volunteers, the valds 
 d'armde, and a large portion of the mercenaries 
 and national troops, served on horseback. The 
 heavy cavalry, in particular, constituted the 
 strength of the annies ; there were to be found 
 united, riches, splendour, and number. They 
 were divided into cuirassiers and hussars; the 
 former clothed in steel, man and horse bearing 
 casque and cuirass, lance and sabre, bows and 
 •carbines ; the latter defended- only by a twisted 
 hauberk, which descended from the head over 
 the shoulders and breast, and armed with a sabre 
 and pistol. Both were distinguished by the 
 splendour of their dress and equipage, and the 
 number and costly array of their mounted ser- 
 vants, accoutred in the most bizarre manner, 
 with huge black plumes, and skins of bears and 
 other wild beasts. It was the boast of this bod}', 
 that they were composed of men, all measured, 
 as they expressed it, by the same standard ; that 
 is, equally enjoying the rights to obey only their 
 God and their swords, and equally destined, per- 
 haps, to step one day into the throne of the Piasts 
 and the Jagellons ; and that, if the heaven itself 
 were to fall, they would support it on the point 
 of their lances. The hussars and cuirassiers 
 w-ere called Towarzirz, that is, companions: 
 
 * Riilh., i., 26, 27. 
 Vol. I.— Y y 
 
 Salv., :., 115. 
 
 they called each other by that name, and they 
 were designated in the same way by the sover- 
 eign, whose chief boast would be Primus inter 
 pares, the first among equals.* 
 
 But all these forces were, in general, in the 
 most miserable slate of destitution. The regu- 
 lar army, alinost always without pay, was gen- 
 erally without discipline, and totally destitute of 
 every kind of equipment ; the castles and forti- 
 fied towns had no other defences but walls, which 
 age had almost everywhere reduced to ruin ; the 
 arsenals were in general empty; all those great 
 establishments, which in other states bespeak the 
 constant vigilance of government, were want- 
 ing. Poland had no other resource but those 
 armed confederations, which, nevertheless, fre- 
 quently saved the Republic in the midst of the 
 greatest perils ; and more than once, through the 
 unconquerable valour of the nobles, preserved 
 the liberties of Europe from the Ottoman power.t 
 
 The physical situation of the Poles was sin- 
 gularly ill calculated to arrest the Their Jon- and 
 course of these disorders. Placed despe>-atewars 
 on the frontiers of European civili- with the Asiat- 
 zation, removed from the sea or "^ tnbes. 
 any commercial intercourse with other states, 
 they had to maintain a constant and perilous 
 war with the hordes who threatened Christen- 
 dom from the deserts of Asia. Their history is 
 one uninterrupted series of desperate contests 
 with the Muscovites, the Tatars, and the Turks, 
 in the course of which, they were repeatedly 
 brought to the brink of ruin, and saved only by 
 those desperate efiorts which distinguished the 
 Polish history from that of all other states in 
 modern times. The frequency and murderous 
 nature of these conflicts blighted every attempt 
 at rural industry, and chained the nation, even 
 in recent times, to those irregular and warlike 
 habits, which had been abandoned centuries be- 
 fore in all the other monarchies of Europe. Re- 
 ligious fur}' added grievously to these disastrous 
 struggles, and the revolt of the Cossacks of the 
 Ukraine, consequent on the schism between the 
 Greek and the Catholic Church, brought the Re- 
 public to the verge of destruction, and finally led 
 to the incorporation of their vast territory with 
 the Muscovite dominion. t 
 
 Weakened in this manner in these contests 
 with their enemies, equally by their freedom as 
 their tyranny, knowing of liberty nothing but its 
 licentiousness, of govermnent but its weakness ; 
 inferior to all around them, not less in numbers 
 than in discipline, the Poles were the only war- 
 like nation in the world to whom victoiy never 
 brought either conquests or peace. Unceasing 
 combats with the Gennans, the Hungarians, the 
 Muscovites, the pirates of the North, all of whom 
 regarded the Republic as a common prey, fill 
 their annals. They successively saw Bohemia, 
 Mecklenbiu'g, Moravia, Brandenburg, Pomera- 
 nia, Silesia, the Ukraine, and Red Russia, melt 
 away from their dominion, without ever once 
 thinking of establishing such a steady govern- 
 ment as might secure the various parts of their 
 vast possessions. Incapable of foresight, they 
 saw their neighbours daily increasing in strength, 
 without making any effort to keep pace with 
 their progress. Blindly attached to their cus- 
 toms, they were destined to drink to the dregs the 
 bitter consequences of a pitiless aristocracy and 
 a senseless equality .§ 
 
 Salv., i., 125, 129. Rulh., i., 30, 33. t Rulh., i., 50. 
 Rulh., i., 36, 3S, 64. *) Salv., i., 74. 
 
354 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVII. 
 
 For centuries before their partition at the close 
 of the eighteenth century, tlie dis- 
 Their weakness ^j-acted State and experienced weak- 
 the fdea°of drs- 1'^^^'* of the Polish Republic had sug- 
 memberment to g'csted to the neighbouring powers 
 the adjuiiimg the project of dividing its territory, 
 sutes. Autnentic documents demonstrate 
 
 that this design was seriously entertained in the 
 time of Louis XIV., and postponed only in con- 
 sequence of the vast reputation and heroic charac- 
 ter of Jolin Sobieski, which prolonged the ex- 
 istence of the Republic for a hundred years, and 
 threw a ray of glory over its declining fortunes. 
 Of the powers whose unworthy alliance effected 
 the destruction of the oldest republic in the 
 world, all had arisen out of its ruins, or been 
 spared by its arms. Prussia, long a province of 
 Poland, had grown out of the spoils of its ancient 
 ruler; Austria owed to the intervention of a 
 Polish hero its deliverance from the sword of the 
 Mussulman ; and long before the French eagles 
 approached the Kremlin, a Polish army had con- 
 quered Moscow, and the conflagration of that 
 great capital was but the repetition of what, tive 
 centuries before, had been effected by the ven- 
 geance of the Polish nobility.*t 
 
 Nothing can so strongly demonstrate the won- 
 General ei- derful power of Democracy as a 
 ploitsofJohn spring, and its desolating efi'ects, 
 Sobieski. -when not compressed by a lirm regu- 
 lator, as the history of John Sobieski. The force 
 "which this illustrious champion of Christendom 
 could bring into the field to defend his country 
 from Mohammedan invasion seldom amounted 
 to fifteen thousand men ; and when, previous to 
 the battle of Kotzim, he tbund himself, by an ex- 
 traordinary efibrt, at the head of forty thousand, 
 of whom hardly one half were well disciplined, 
 the unusual spectacle inspired him with such 
 confidence, that he hesitated not to attack eighty 
 thousand Turkish veterans, strongly intrenched, 
 and gained the greatest victory which had been 
 achieved by the Christian arms since the battle 
 of Ascalon. The troops which he led to the 
 deliverance of Vienna were only eighteen thou- 
 sand native Poles, and the combined Christian 
 army only numbered seventy thousand combat- 
 ants ; yet with this force he routed 300,000 Turk- 
 ish soldiers, and broke the Mussulman power so 
 effectually, that for the first time for three hundred 
 years the crescent of Mohammed permanently re- 
 ceded, and from that period historians date the 
 decline of the Ottoman Empire. Yet, after these 
 glorious triumphs, the ancient divisions of the 
 Republic paralyzed its strength, the defence of 
 the frontiers was again intrusted to a few undis- 
 ciplined horsemen, and the Polish nation had the 
 disgrace of allowing its heroic king, the deliverer 
 of Christendom,! to be besieged for months, with 
 fifteen thousand men, by innumerable hordes of 
 
 * Salv., i., 136, and ii., 236. Rulh., i., 59, 60. 
 
 t This fearful catastrophe is thus described in the con- 
 temporary annalists : " What words can adequately paint 
 the deplorable state to which Moscow was thus reduced. 
 That populous capital, resplendent with nches and num- 
 bers, was annihilated in a single day. There remains only 
 smoking- ruins ; piles covered with ashes and drenched with 
 blood. You see nothing but corpses and churches sacked or 
 half devoured by the flames. The awful silence of death is 
 intciTupled only by the pitiable lamentations of unhappy 
 wretches covered with wounds, a prey to all the agonies of 
 prolonged torture." Is this the description of Moscow in 
 1382 or 1312, when sacked and destroyed by the Jagellons 
 or Napoleon ? Singular destiny of a capital, to have been 
 twice the victim of such a catastrophe. — See Karamsin, Hist, 
 de Russie, v., !()1. 
 
 t Salv., iii., CI, and ii., 137, 141, 372, 454. Rulh., i., 56. 
 
 barbarians, before the tardy pospolite would ad- 
 vance to his relief 
 
 Sobieski, worn out with his ineffectual en- 
 deavours to create a regular government, orestab- 
 li.sh a permanent force for the protection of Po- 
 land, clearly foresaw the future fate of the Re- 
 public. Before his accession to the throne, he 
 had united with the primate and sixteen hundred 
 of its principal citizens to overturn the phantom 
 of equality* with which they were perpetually 
 opposed, and, to use his own words, " Rescue 
 the Republic from the insane tyranny of a plebeian 
 noblesse." His reign was one incessant struggle 
 with the principles of anarchy which were im- 
 planted in his dominions, and he at length sunk 
 under the experienced impossibility of remedy- 
 ing them. The aged hero, when approaching 
 the grave, to which the ingratitude and dissen- 
 sions of his subjects accelerated his latter years, 
 expressed himself to the senate in these memora- 
 ble and prophetic terms : " He was well acquaint- 
 ed with the griefs of the soul who 
 declared that small distresses love " 'ficu'anon of 
 to declare themselves, but great are the partition of 
 silent. The world will be mute Poland from its 
 with amazement at the contempla- l^emocratic di- 
 tion of us and our councils. Nature 
 herself will be astonished ! that beneficent Parent 
 has gifted every living creature with the instinct 
 of self-preservation, and given the most incon- 
 siderable animals arms for their delence : we 
 alone in the universe turn ours against ourselves. 
 That instinct is taken from us, not by any resist- 
 less force, not by an inevitable destiny, but by p, 
 voluntary insanity, by our own passions, by the 
 desire of mutual destruction. Alas ! what will 
 one day be the mournful surprise of posterity to 
 find that, from the summit of glory, from the 
 period when the Polish name filled the universe, 
 our country has fallen into ruins, and fallen, alas ! 
 forever. I have been able to gain for you vic- 
 tories, but I feel myself unable to save you from 
 yourselves. Nothing remains to be done but to 
 place in the hands, not of destiny, for I am a 
 Christian, but of a powerful and beneficent Deity, 
 the fate of my beloved country. Believe me, the 
 eloquence of your tribunes, instead of being 
 turned against the throne, would be better directed 
 against those who, by their disorders, are bring- 
 ing down upon our country the cry of the prophet, 
 which I, alas ! hear too clearly rolling over our 
 heads, ' yet forty years, and Nineveh will be no 
 more.' "t 
 
 The anticipation of the hero was not exactly 
 accomplished: his own glories, de- -withhimthe 
 spite the insanity of his subjects, pro- Pohsh power 
 longed the existence of Poland for was extm- 
 nearly a hundred years. But sue- gu'^hed 
 ceeding events proved every day more clearly 
 the truth of his prediction. His posthumous 
 conquest of the frontier town of Kamieck from 
 the Turks was the last triumph of the Republic. 
 He was also its last national sovereign, and the 
 last who possessed any estimation in the world. 
 With him disappeared both its power and its as- 
 cendency among other nations. From that period 
 successive foreign armies invaded its provinces, 
 and invaded it never to retire. By turns the 
 Saxons, Swedes, Moscovites, Imperiali.sts, and 
 Prussians ruled its destinies; Poland was no 
 more ; according to his own prophecy, it descend- 
 ed into the tomb Avith the greatest of his sons.i 
 
 * Letter, Soliieski to Louis XIV., July 14, 1672. Rulh., 
 i., 53. t Salv., iii., 375, 377. i Salv., iii., 455. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 355 
 
 Never did a people exhibit a more extraordi- 
 Excessive ^^^'Y spectacle than the Poles after this 
 l/emocratic period. Two factions were forever 
 strife alter at war: both had to espouse and de- 
 liis death. |^j^j their interests an army; but it 
 ■was a foreign army, a conquering army, an army 
 conquering without a combat. The inferior 
 noblesse introduced the Saxons, the greater called 
 in the Swedes; from the day in which Sobieski 
 closed his eyes, strangers never ceased to reign 
 in Poland; its national forces were continually 
 diminishing, and at length totally disappeared. 
 The reason is, that a nation without subjects is 
 speedily exhausted ; the Republic at length, com- 
 posed only of 100,000 citizens, had no more blood 
 to shed even in civil war. No encounters there- 
 after tooli place but between the Swedish, Ger- 
 man, or Russian forces ; their struggles resem- 
 bled more the judicial combat of the feudal ages 
 than the contests of powerful nations. The fac- 
 tions of the Republic, united on one side round 
 the Swedish, on the other round the Saxon ban- 
 ners, exchanged notes and summonses like belli- 
 gerent powers. By degrees, blood ceased to flow ; 
 in these internal divisions, gold was found more 
 effectual than the sword ; and to the disgrace of 
 Poland, its later years sunk imder the debase- 
 ment of foreign corruption.* 
 
 Pursued to the grave by the phantom of equal- 
 Increasinn- ^^'> '-^^ dissensions of Poland be- 
 weakuess'and came more violent as it approached 
 anarchy of the its dissolution. The cxercise of the 
 Itepubhc. liberuni veto became more frequent 
 every year ; it was no longer produced by the 
 vehemence of domestic strife, but by the influence 
 of external corruption. That single word plun- 
 ged the Republic, as if by enchantment, into a 
 lethargic sleep, and every time it was pronoun- 
 ced, it fell for two years into a state of absolute 
 inanition. Faction even went so far as to dis- 
 .solve the diets in their first sittings, and render 
 their convocation a mere vain formality. All 
 the branches of the government immediately 
 ceased to be under any control; the treasury, 
 the army, the civil authority, released from all 
 control, fell into a state of anarchy. Nothing 
 similar to this ever occurred in any other people. 
 The legislative power succeeded in destroying 
 itself, and no other power ever ventured to sup- 
 ply its place. The executive, parcelled out into 
 many independent and hostile divisions, was in- 
 capable of effecting such a usurpation, and if it 
 had, the right of the nation to assemble in open 
 confederation would immediately have rendered 
 it nugatory.t 
 
 When the adjoining states of Russia and 
 "Which made Austria, therefore, effected the first 
 their j)artition partition of Poland in 1772, they did 
 111 1/72 easy, not require to conquer a kingdom, 
 but only to take each a share of a state which 
 had fallen to pieces. The election of Stanislaus 
 Poniatowski, in 1764, to the throne of Poland, 
 took place literally under the buckler ; but it was 
 tmder the buckler of the Moscovite, the Cossack, 
 and the Tatar, who overshadowed the plain of 
 Volo with their arms : last and fatal consequence 
 of centuries of anarchy ! In vain did the Poles, 
 taught at length by woful experience, attempt, 
 ty the advice of Czartoriski, to abandon the fatal 
 privilege of the liheritm veto; the despots of Rus- 
 sia and Prussia declared that they took the lib- 
 erties of Poland, and that important right in par- 
 ticular, under their peculiar protection, and per- 
 
 * Salv., iii., 479. Rulh., L, 62, 63, t Kulh., i., 63. 
 
 petuated a privilege which secured their con- 
 quest of the kingdom. The inferior noblesse had 
 the madness to invoke the aid of the Empress 
 Catharine to maintain their ancient privileges 
 against what they called the tyranny of the aris- 
 tocracy, and Poland, invaded "by the two greatest 
 monarchies of Europe, was deprived ol the aid 
 of the greater part of its own subjects. The 
 higher nobility, the clergy, the real patriots, made 
 generous efforts, but all in vain ; the insane peo- 
 ple refused to second them, and one half of Po- 
 land was lost in the struggle.* 
 
 The terrible lesson was not received in vain. 
 Taught by the dismemberment of when tool 
 their territory, what remained of Po- they abandon 
 land strove to amend their institu- their ruinous 
 tions ; the libcruvi veto was aban- Democratic 
 doned, and the nobles themselves, P'''^''l^=«s. 
 taking the lead in the work of reformation, made 
 a voluntary surrender of their privileges for the 
 public good. The example of the F'rench Revo- 
 lution had penetrated the wilds of Sarmatia, and 
 a new era seemed to open upon the world from 
 its example. On the 3d of May, 1791, a consti- 
 tution, founded upon the hereditary descent of 
 the throne, the abolition of the liberum veto, reli- 
 gious toleration, the emancipation of the bour- 
 geois, and the progressive enfranchisement of the 
 serfs, was proclaimed at WarsaAv, amid the 
 tears of joy of a people who hoped that they had 
 at last found a period to their long misfortunes.t 
 
 The Polish reform was so different from the 
 French, that it would seem as if it was expres.sly 
 set down by Providence to afford a contrast to 
 that bloody convulsion, and deprive the parti- 
 tionar}' powers of a shadow even of justice in the 
 mournful catastrophe which followed. " In con- 
 templating that change," says Mr. Burke, " hu- 
 manity has everything to rejoice and glory in, 
 nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to suffer. So 
 far as it has gone, it is probably the most pure 
 public good ever yet conferred on mankind. An- 
 archy and servitude were at once removed; a 
 throne strengthened for the protection of the peo- 
 ple, without trenching on their liberties; foreign 
 cabal abolished, by changing the crown from 
 elective to hereditary ; a reigning king, from an 
 heroic love to his country, exerted himself in 
 favour of a family of strangers as if it had been 
 his own. Ten millions of men were placed in 
 a way to be freed gradually, and therefore to 
 themselves safely, not from civil or political 
 chains, which, bad as they are, only fetter the 
 mind, but from substantial personal bondage. 
 Inhabitants of cities, before without privileges, 
 were placed in the consideration vrhich belongs 
 to that improved and connecting situation of 
 social life. One of the most numerous, proud, 
 and fierce bodies of nobility in the M'orld was 
 arranged only in the foremost rank of free citi- 
 zens. All, from the king to the labourer, were 
 improved in their condition ; everything was 
 kept in its place and order, but in that place and 
 order everything was bettered. Not one drop of 
 blood was spilled, no treachery, no outrage; no 
 slander, more cruel than the sword ; no studied 
 insults on religion, morals, or manners ; no spoil 
 or confiscation, no citizen beggared, none im- 
 prisoned, none exiled; but the whole was effected 
 with a policy, a discretion, a unanimity and 
 secrecy such as have never before been known 
 on any occasion."! 
 
 * Salv., iii., 498. t Salv., iii., 500. 
 
 t Burke, Appeal to Old Whigs, V/orks, vi., 244, 245. 
 
356 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVII. 
 
 But it was too late. The powers which en- 
 vironed Poland were too strong, the weakness 
 ■entailed on it by its long anarchy too great, to 
 admit of its being restored to the ranli of an inde- 
 pendent power. Like many men who discover 
 the error of tlieir ways when on the verge of the 
 grave, they had continued the passions of their 
 youth down to the period when amendment is 
 fruitless and repentance too late. Had they 
 abandoned their democratic contentions in the 
 days of Sobieski, the state might have recovered 
 its ascendency; in the days oi' Catharine it was 
 no longer practicable.* 
 
 The last struggles of the Poles, like all their 
 Commence- preceding ones, originated in tlieir 
 nient of their own divisions. The partisans of the 
 last struggle, ancient anarchy revolted against the 
 new and more stable constitution which they had 
 recently received ; they took up arms at Targo- 
 •wice, and invoked the aid of the empress to re- 
 store the disorder from which she had gained 
 ^. so much. A second dismemberment 
 1793 speedily took place, and in the disor- 
 
 dered state of the country, it was ef- 
 fected without opposition. Prussia and Russia 
 took upon themselves alone the execution of this 
 partition, and the combined troops were in the 
 iirst instance quietly cantoned in the provinces 
 ■which they had seized. The Russian general 
 Igelstroem was stationed at Warsaw, and occu- 
 
 f)ied all the inconsiderable portion of the Repub- 
 ic still left to Stanislaus. Soltikoif had under 
 his orders a powerful corps in Wolhinia and 
 Podolia. Suwarrow, with a considerable corps, 
 -was placed at Cherson, to overawe both the 
 Turks and the southern provinces, while a large 
 Prussian corps was ready to support Igelstroem, 
 and had already seized upon the northern parts 
 of the country. Thus Poland, distracted and 
 paralyzed, without fortified towns, mountains, or 
 defensible positions, was overran by the armies 
 of two of the most powerful military monarchies 
 in Europe. + 
 
 There is a certain degree of calamity which 
 Poles take u Overwhelms the courage ; but there 
 arm from de^ is another, which, by reducing men 
 spair, and to desperation, leads to the greatest 
 «leot Koscius- and most glorious enterprises. To 
 to as a leader, ^j^jg jg^jjgj, gj^jg jj^g p^jgg ^^,gj.g j^^^^ 
 
 reduced. Abandoned by all the world, distract- 
 ed with internal divisions, destitute alike of for- 
 tresses and resources, crushed in the grasp of 
 gigantic enemies, the patriots of that unhappy 
 country, consulting only their own courage, re- 
 solved to make a last effort to deliver it from its 
 enemies. In the midst of their internal distrac- 
 tions, and through all the prostration of their na- 
 tional strength, the Poles had never lost their in- 
 dividual courage, or the ennobling feelings of 
 civil independence. They were still the re- 
 doubtable hussars who broke the Mussulman 
 ranks under the walls of Vienna, and carried the 
 Polish eagles in liiumph to the towers of the 
 ICremlin, whose national cry had so often made 
 the Osmanlis tremble, and wlio had boasted, in 
 their hours of triumph, that if the heaven itself 
 ■were to fall, they vv-ould support it on the point 
 of their lances. A band of patriots at Warsaw 
 resolved at all hazards to attempt the restoration 
 of their independence, and they made choice of 
 Kosciusko, who was then at Leipsic, to direct 
 their efforts.! 
 
 * Salv.,iii.,501. 
 
 t .T.mi., vi., 257, 258. Salv., iii., 501. 
 
 T Salv., iii., 92. Jom., tI., 260. 
 
 This illustrious hero, who had received the 
 rudiments of military education in France, had 
 afterward served, not without glory, in the ranks 
 of independence in America. Uniting to Polish 
 enthusiasm French ability, the ardent friend of 
 liberty, and the enlightened advocate for order, 
 brave, loyal, and generous, he was in every way- 
 qualified to head the last struggle of the oldest 
 republic in existence for its national independ- 
 ence. But a nearer approach to the scene of 
 danger convinced him that the hour for action 
 had not yet aiTived. The passions, indeed, were 
 awakened, the national enthusiasm was full, but 
 the means of resistance were inconsiderable, and 
 the old divisions of the Republic were not so 
 healed as to afford the prospect of the whole na- 
 tional strength being exerted in its defence. But 
 the public indignation could brook no delay ; 
 several regiments stationed at Pultusk revolted, 
 and moved towards Gallicia ; and Kosciusko, 
 determined not to be absent in the hour of dan- 
 ger, hastened to Cracow, where, on the 3d of 
 March, he clo.sed the gates, and proclaimed the 
 insurrection.* 
 
 Having, by means of the regiments which had 
 revolted, andthejunctionof somebo- He defeats the 
 dies of armed peasants — imperfect- Russsians at 
 ly armed indeed, but full of enthusi- Raslowice. 
 asm — collected a force of five thousand men, Kos- 
 ciusko left Cracow, and boldly advanced into 
 
 the open country. He encountered , ., „ ,,„. 
 , -5 „ , -' ^, , T- . Apnl 8, 1 (94. 
 
 a body of tliree thousand Russians 
 
 at Raslowice, and after an obstinate engagement, 
 succeeded in routing it with great slaughter. 
 This action, inconsiderable in itself, had im- 
 portant consequences; the Polish peasants ex- 
 changed their scythes for the anns found on the 
 field of battle, and the insurrection, encouraged 
 by this first gleam of success, soon communi- 
 cated itself to the adjoining provinces. In vain 
 Stanislaus disavowed the acts of his subjects ; 
 the flame of independence spread with the ra- 
 pidity of lightning, and soon all the freemen in 
 Poland were in arms.t 
 
 Warsaw was the first point where the flame 
 broke out. The intelligence of the Warsaw is ta- 
 success at Raslowice was received ken by the m- 
 there on the I2th of April, and oc- surgents. 
 casioned the most violent agitation. For some 
 days afterward it was evident that an explosion 
 was at hand ; and at length, at daybreak on 
 the morning of the 17th, the iDrigade of ^ ^.^ j^ 
 Polish guards, under the direction of ' ^ ' 
 their officers, attacked the governor's house and 
 the arsenal, and was speedily joined by the popu- 
 lace. The Russian and Prussian troops in the 
 neighbourhood of the capital were about seven 
 thousand men ; and after a jprolonged and obsti- 
 nate contest in the streets for thirty-six hours, 
 they were driven across the Vistula with the loss 
 of above tlnee thousand men in killed and pris- 
 oners, and the flag of independence was hoisted 
 on the towers of Warsaw.: 
 
 One of the most embarrassing circumstances 
 in the situation of the Russians was Poies in the 
 the presence of above sixteen thou- Russian army 
 sand Poles in their ranks, who were disarmed, 
 known to sympathize strongly with these heroic 
 efforts of their fellow-citizens. Orders were im- 
 mediately despatched to Suwarrow to assemble 
 a corps, and disarm the Polish troops scattered 
 in Podolia, before they could unite in any com- 
 
 * .lorn., vi., 263. Tout., v., 88. 
 
 t .lorn., vi., 264, 265. Lac, xii., 269. 
 
 t Jom., vi., 26G, 269. Lac., xii., 27L Hard., i., 472. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 357 
 
 mon measures for their defence. By the energy 
 and rapidity of this great commander, the Poles 
 were disarmed I)rigade after brigade, and above 
 twelve lluiusand men reduced to a stale of inac- 
 tion without much dilhculty : a most important 
 operation, not only by destroying the nucleus of 
 a powerful army, "but stitiing the commencement 
 of the insurrection in Woihinia and Podolia. 
 How dilferent might have been the fate of Po- 
 land and Europe liad they been enabled to join 
 the ranks of their countrymen 1* 
 
 Kosciusko and his countrymen did everything 
 Great cxer- •'''^'^ Courage or energy could suggest 
 tions of Kosci- to put on Ibot a formidable force to 
 usko and his resist their adversaries ; a provision- 
 countrymen, j^j government was established, and 
 in a short time forty thousand men were raised. 
 But this force, though highly honourable to the 
 patriotism of the Poles, was inconsiderable when 
 compared with the vast armies which Prussia 
 and Prussia could advance for their subjugation. 
 Small as the army was, its maintenance was too 
 great an effort for the resources of the kingdom, 
 which, torn by intestine faction, without com- 
 merce, harbours, or manufactures, having no 
 national credit, and no industrious class of citi- 
 zens but the Jews, now felt the fatal effects of its 
 long career of anarchy. The population of the 
 countiy, composed entirely of unruly gentlemen 
 and ignorant serfs, was totally imable at that 
 time to furnish those numerous supplies of in- 
 telligent otticers which are requisite for the for- 
 mation of an efficient militar}'- force ; while the 
 nobility, however formidable on horseback in 
 tlie Hungarian or Turkish wars, were less to 
 be relied on in a contest with regular forces, 
 •where infantry and artillery constituted the great 
 strength of the army, and courage was unavail- 
 ing without the aid of science."!- 
 
 The central position of Poland, in the midst 
 Want of a *-'^ ^'^ enemies, would have aflbrded 
 large regular great military advantages, had they 
 force proved possessed a force capable of turning 
 fatal to him. £( jq account ; that is, if they had 
 had 150,000 regular troops, which the population 
 of the country could easily have maintained, and 
 a few well fortified towns to arrest the enemy in 
 one quarter, while the bulk of the national force 
 was precipitated upon them in another. The 
 glorious stand made by the nation in 1831, with 
 only thirty thousand regular troops at the com- 
 mencement of the insurrection, and no other for- 
 tifications than those of Warsaw and Modlin, 
 proves what immense advantages this central 
 position affords, and what opportunities it oflers 
 to militaiy genius like that of Skrynecki, to in- 
 flict the most severs wounds even on a superior 
 and well-conducted antagonist. But all these 
 advantages were wanting to Kosciusko ; and it 
 augments our admiration of his talent, and of 
 the heroism of his countiymen, that, with such 
 inconsiderable means, they made so honourable 
 a stand for their national independence. 
 
 Ko sooner was the King of Prussia informed 
 Russians of the Revolution at Warsaw, than 
 and Prus.sians he moved forward at the head of 
 move Hgamst thirty thousand men to besiege that 
 Warsaw. ^.j^^, . ^,j^jjg Suwarrow, with forty 
 thousand veterans, was preparing to enter the 
 southeastern parts of the kingdom. Aware of 
 the necessity of striking a blow before the en- 
 emy's forces were united, Kosciusko advanced 
 with twelve thousand men to attack the Russian 
 
 Jom., vi., 271. 
 
 t Jom., vi., 273. 
 
 General Denisofl'; but, upon approaching his 
 corps, he discovered that it had united to the ar- 
 my commanded by the king in person. Unable 
 to face such superior Ibrces, he immediately re- 
 tired, but was attacked next morning at daybreak 
 near Sckoczyre by the allies, and, after a gallant 
 resistance, his army was routed, and Cracow fell 
 into the hands of the conquerors. This check 
 was the more severely felt, as, about the same 
 time, General Zayonschuk was defeated at 
 Chelne, and obliged to recross the Vistula, leav- 
 ing the whole country on the right bank of that 
 river in the hands of the Russians.* 
 
 These disasters produced a great impression 
 at Warsaw; the people, as usual, ascribed them 
 to treachery, and insisted that the leaders should 
 be brought to punishment ; and, although the 
 chiefs escaped, several persons in an inferior 
 situation were arrested and thrown into prison. 
 Apprehensive of some subterfuge if the accused 
 were regularly brought to trial, the people as- 
 sembled in tumultuous bodies, forced the pris- 
 ons, erected scatiblds in the streets, and, after the 
 manner of the assassins of September 2, put 
 above twelve persons to death with their own 
 hands. These excesses penetrated with the most 
 profound grief the pure heart of Kosciusko; he 
 Hew to the capital, restored order, and delivered 
 over to punishment the authors of the revolt. 
 But the resources of the country were evidently 
 unequal to the struggle ; the paper money was at 
 a frightful discount; and the sacrifices required 
 of the nation were the more severely felt, that 
 now hardly a hope of ultimate success re- 
 mained. t 
 
 The combined Russian and Prussian armies, 
 about thirty-five thousand strong, now advanced 
 against the capital, where Kosciusko occupied 
 an intrenched camp, with twenty-five thousand 
 men. During the whole of July and August, the 
 besiegers were engaged in fruitless attempts to 
 drive the Poles into the city ; and at But are com- 
 length a great convoy, with artillery pelled to raisa 
 and stores for a regular siege, which ^^<^ sieg<=- 
 was ascending the Vistula, having been captured 
 by a gentleman named Minewsky, at the head 
 of a body of peasants, the King of Prussia raised 
 the siege, leaving a portion of his sick and stores 
 in the hands of the patriots.^ 
 
 After this success the Poles mustered nearly 
 eighty thousand men under arms; but they were 
 scattered over too extensive a line of country in 
 order to make head against their numerous ene- 
 mies ; a policy tempting by the prospect it holds 
 forth of exciting an extensive insurrection, but 
 ruinous in the end, by exposing the patriotic for- 
 ces to the risk of being beaten in detail. Scarce- 
 ly had the Poles recovered from their intoxica- 
 tion at the raising the siege of Warsaw, when 
 intelligence was received of the defeat of Siza- 
 kowslcy, Avho commanded a corps of ten g ,_ 
 thousand men beyond the Bug, by the "^ ' 
 Russian grand army under Suwarrow. This 
 celebrated general, to whom the prin- suwarrow de- 
 cipal conduct of the war was now foats one of 
 committed, followed up his success- '^^"" corps, 
 es with the utmost vigour. The retreating col- 
 umn was again assailed on the 19th by g .g 
 the victorious Russians, and, after a 
 glorious resistance, driven into the woods be- 
 tween Janow and Biala, with the loss of four 
 thousand men and twenty-eight pieces of cannon. 
 
 * .Tom., vi., 274, 270. Lac, xii., 272. 
 
 t Lac, xii., 272. Jom., vi., 279. 
 
 t Hard., i., 474, 4S0. Toul., v., 89. Jom., vi., 280, 281. 
 
358 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XV^II. 
 
 Scarce three thousand Poles, with Sizakowsky 
 at their head, escaped into Siedlce.* 
 
 Upon receivinij; the accounts of this disaster, 
 Kosciusko is Kosciusko resolved, by drawing to- 
 routed and gether all his detachments, to fall 
 "made prisoner upon Fersen before he joined Suwar- 
 at Maccowicc. j.^^ gjj^j j|^g other corps which were 
 advancing against the capital. With this view 
 he ordered Oieneral Poninsky to join him, and 
 inarched with all his disposable forces to attack 
 the Russian general, who was stationed at Mac- 
 cowice; but Fortune, on this occasion, cruelly 
 deceived the Poles. Arrived in presence of Fer- 
 sen, he found that Poninsky had not yet arrived ; 
 and the Russian commander, overjoyed at this 
 circumstance, resolved immediately to attack 
 him. In vain Kosciusko despatched courier af- 
 ter courier to Poninsky to advance to his relief 
 The first was intercepted by the Cossacks, and 
 the second did not arrive in time to enable him 
 to take a decisive part in the approaching com- 
 bat. Nevertheless, the Polish commander, aware 
 of the danger of retreating with inexperienced 
 troops in presence of a disciplined and superior 
 enemy, determined to give battle on the follow- 
 ing day, and drew up his little anny with as 
 much skill as the circumstances would admit.t 
 The forces on the opposite sides, in this ac- 
 Oct 4 1794 *'°"' ^'hich decided the fate of Po- 
 
 ■ ' ' ■ land, were nearly equal in point of 
 numbers, but the advantages of discipline and 
 equipment were decisively on the side of the 
 Russians. Kosciusko commanded about ten 
 thousand men, a great part of whom were re- 
 cently raised and imperfectly disciplined; while 
 Fersen was at the head of twelve thousand vet- 
 erans, including a most formidable body of cav- 
 alry. Nevertheless, the Poles, in the centre and 
 right wing, made a glorious defence; but the 
 left, which Poninsky should have supported, 
 having been overwhelmed by the cavalry under 
 Denisofl', the whole army was thrown into con- 
 fusion. Kosciusko, Sizakowsky, and other gal- 
 lant chiefs, in vain made the most heroic efforts 
 to rally the broken troops. They were wound- 
 ed, struck down, and made prisoners by the Cos- 
 sacks, who inundated the field of battle, while 
 the remains of the army, now reduced to seven 
 thousand five hundred men, fell back in confu- 
 sion towards Warsaw.! 
 
 After the fall of Kosciusko, who sustained in 
 Patriots shut his single person the fortunes of the 
 themselves up Republic, nothing but a series of 
 in Warsaw, disasters awaited the Poles. The 
 Austrians, taking advantage of the general con- 
 fusion, entered Gallicia, and occupied the palat- 
 inates of Lublin and Landomir; while Suwar- 
 row, pressing forward towards the capital, de- 
 feated Mokronowsky, who, at the head of twelve 
 thousand men, strove to retard the advance of 
 that redoubtable commander. In vain the Poles 
 made the utmost efforts ; they were routed with 
 the loss of four thousand men ; and the patriots, 
 though now despairing of success, resolved to 
 sell their lives dearly, and shut themselves up in 
 Warsaw, to aw'ait the approach of the con- 
 queror.§ 
 
 Suwarrow was soon at the gates of Praga, 
 Storming of '^^'here twenty-six thousand men and 
 Praga and one hundred pieces of cannon defend- 
 Warsaw by ed the bridge of the Vistula and the 
 Suwai-row. approach to the capital. To assault 
 
 •« .Tarn., vi., 283, 287. t .Tom., vi,, 290. 
 
 1 Toiil., v.. 89. I.ac, xii., 274. Jom., vi., 291. 
 i Join., vi., 292, 295. Toul., v., 89. 
 
 such a position with forces hardly superior was 
 evidently a hazardous enterprise ; but the ap- 
 proach of winter rendering it indispensable that, 
 if anything was done at all, it should be imme- 
 diately attempted, Suwarrow, who was habitua- 
 ted to successful assaults in the Turkish wars, 
 resolved to storm the city. On the 2d of No- 
 vember, the Russians made their appearance 
 before the glacis of Praga, and Suwarrow, hav- 
 ing, in great haste, completed three powerful 
 batteries, and battered the defences in breach 
 with an imposing celerity, made dispositions for 
 a general assault on the following day. The 
 conquerors of Ismail advanced to the attack in 
 the same order which they had adopted on that 
 memorable occasion. Seven colimms at 
 daybreak approached the ramparts, rap- "^^ ' 
 idly filled up the ditches with their fascines, 
 broke down the defences, and, pouring into the 
 intrenched camp, carried destruction into the 
 ranks of the Poles. In vain the defenders did 
 their utmost to resist the torrent. The wooden 
 houses of Praga speedily took fire, and, amid 
 the shouts of the victors and the cries of the in- 
 habitants, the Polish battalions were borne back- 
 ward to the edge of the Vistula. The multitude 
 of fugitives speedily broke down the bridges, and 
 the citizens of Warsaw beheld with unavailing 
 anguish their defenders on the other side perish- 
 ing in the flames or by the sword of the con- 
 querors. Ten thousand soldiers fell on the spot, 
 nine thousand were made prisoners, Atrociousmas- 
 and above twelve thousand citizens, sacre by the 
 of every age and se.x, were put to Russians, 
 the sword: a dreadful instance of carnage, 
 which has left a lasting stain on the name of 
 Suwarrow, and which Russia expiated in the 
 conflagration of Moscow.* 
 
 The tragedy was at an end ; V/arsaw capitu- 
 lated two days afterward ; the detached parties 
 of the patriots melted away, and Poland was no 
 more. On the 6th of November Suwarrow made 
 his triumphant entry into the blood.stained capi- 
 tal. King Stanislaus was sent into Russia, 
 where he ended his days in captivity, and the 
 final partition of the monarchy was effected. + 
 
 Such was the termination of the oldest repub- 
 lic in existence — such the first in- ^ 
 stance of the destruction of a mem- tion produced 
 ber of the European family by its by the fall of 
 ambitious rivals. As such, it excited Warsa%v in 
 a profound sensation in Europe ; the Europe, 
 folly of preceding ages, the irretrievable defects 
 of the Polish Constitution,- were forgotten; they 
 were remembered only as the bulwark of Chris- 
 tendom against the Ottomans; they appeared 
 only as the succouring angel under John So- 
 bieski. To behold a people so ancient, so gal- 
 lant, whose deeds were associated with such 
 heart-stirring recollections, fall a victim to im- 
 perial ingratitude and Moscovite ambition, was 
 a spectacle which naturally excited the utmost 
 indignation. The bloody march of the French 
 Revolution, the disasters consequent on domes- 
 tic dissension, were forgotten, and the Christian 
 world was penetrated with a grief akin to that felt 
 by all civilized nations at the fall of Jerusalem. 
 The poet has celebrated these events in the 
 immortal lines : 
 
 " Oh I bloodiest picture in the book of Time : 
 Sarmatia fell unwept, without a crime ; 
 Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe. 
 Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her wo ! 
 
 * Toul., v., 89, 90. Lac, xii., 275. Jom., vi., 297, 298. 
 t Jom., vi., 299. Toul., v., 91. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 359 
 
 Dropp'd from lipr nerveless frmsp the shatter'd spear, 
 Closed her bright eye, and curb'd her high career : 
 Hope lor a season bade the world farewoll, 
 And Freedom shriek'd as KosciuBko Cell 1" 
 
 But the truth of history must dispel the illu- 
 sion, and unfold in the fall of Po- 
 ti'm ""of'^emo- land the natural consequence of its 
 craticinadness national delinquencies. Sarmatia 
 and ojipres- neither fell unwept nor without a 
 *'°"- crime ; she fell the victim of her 
 
 own dissensions ; of the chimera of equality in- 
 sanely pursued, and the rigour of aristocracy 
 unceasingly maintained ; of extravagant jeal- 
 ousy of every superior, and merciless oppression 
 of every inferior rank. The eldest born of the 
 European family was the first to perish, because 
 she had thwarted all the ends of the social union; 
 because she united the turbulence of Democratic 
 to the exclusion of aristocratic societies ; be- 
 cause she had the vacillation of a republic with- 
 out its energy, and the oppression of a mon- 
 archy without its stability. Such a system nei- 
 ther could nor ought to be maintained. The in- 
 ternal feuds of Poland w^ere more fatal to hu- 
 man happiness than the despotism of Russia, 
 and the growth of improvement among its peo- 
 ple as slow as among the ryots of Hindostan. 
 
 In this respect the history of Muscovy affords 
 Strikiuo- con- ^ striking and instructive contrast 
 trast afforded to the Polish annals. Commen- 
 by the steady cing originally with a smaller terri- 
 growthofRus- t^j-y^ yg^ farther removed from the 
 '"^' light of civilization ; cut off, in a 
 
 manner from the intelligence of the globe ; deci- 
 dedly inferior in ils earlier contests, the growth 
 of Russia has been as steady as the decline of 
 Poland. The Polish Republic fell at length be- 
 neath a power whom it had repeatedly van- 
 quished ; and its name was erased from the list 
 of nations at the very time that its despotic rival 
 had attained the zenith of power and glory. 
 These facts throw a great and important light 
 on the causes of early civilization, and the form 
 of government adapted to a barbarous age. 
 There cannot, in such a state, be so great a mis- 
 fortune as a weak, there caimot be so great a 
 blessing as a powerful government. No oppres- 
 sion is so severe as that which is there inflict- 
 ed by the members of the same state on each 
 other ; no anarchy so irremediable as that which 
 arises from the violence of their own passions. 
 To restrain the fury and coerce the dissensions 
 of its subjects is the first duty of government in 
 such periods; in its inability to discharge this 
 duty is to be found the real cause of the weak- 
 ness of a Democratic, in the rude but eflcctive 
 performance of it, the true secret of the strength 
 of a despotic stale. 
 
 Such are the ennobling effects of the spirit of 
 Gallant spirit freedom, cven in its wildest fits, that 
 of the exiled the remnant of the Polish nation, 
 Polish bands, albeit bereft of a country by their 
 own insanity, have by their deeds commanded 
 the respect, and by their sorrows obtained the 
 sympathy of the world. The remains of Kosci- 
 usko's bands, disdaming to live under Musco- 
 vite oppression, have sought and found an asy- 
 lum in the armies of France ; they served with 
 distinction both in Italy and Spain,' and aAvaken- 
 ed by their bravery that sympathy which brought 
 the conqueror of Europe to the walls of the 
 Kremlin. Like the remains of a noble mind 
 borne dovcn by suffering, they have exhibited 
 flashes of greatness even in the extremity of dis- 
 aster ; and, w-hile wandering without a home, 
 
 from which their madness had banished them, 
 obtained a respect to which their conquerors 
 were strangers at the summit of their glory. 
 Such is the ctlect even of the misdirected .spirit 
 of freedom ; it dignifies and hallows all that it 
 encircles, and, even amid the ruins which it has 
 occasioned, exalts the human .soul ! 
 
 The history of England has illustrated the ben- 
 eficial effects which have resulted to ,- 
 
 1 » 1 • ... .. i- ■, Comparison 
 
 Its character and mstuutions irom the of Polish 
 Norman conquest, in the severe suf- "itli Eng- 
 fering which followed that great event, I'sh history, 
 in the anguish of generations, were laid the deep 
 and lasting foundations of English freedom. In 
 the checkered and disastrous history of Poland 
 may be traced the consequences of an opposite, 
 and, at first sight, more fortunate destiny : of na- 
 tional independence uninterruptedly maintained, 
 and purity of race unceasingly preserved. The 
 first, in the school of early adversity, were taught 
 the habits and learned the wisdom necessary for 
 the guidance of maturer years ; the second, like 
 the spoiled child, whose wishes had never beea 
 coerced nor passions restrained, at last acquired, 
 on the brink of the grave, prematurely induced 
 by excessive indulgence, that experience which 
 should have been gained in earlier years. It is 
 through this terrible, but necessary ordeal, that 
 Poland is now passing ; and the experience of 
 ages would indeed be lost, if we did not discern 
 in their present suffering the discipline necessary 
 for future happiness, and in the extremity of tem- 
 poraiy disaster, the severe school of ultimate im- 
 provement. 
 
 The partition of Poland, and scandalous con- 
 duct of the states who reaped the fruit of injus- 
 tice in its fall, has been the frequent subject of 
 just indignation and eloquent complaint from the 
 European historians ; but the connexion between 
 that calamitous event and the subsequent disas- 
 ters of the partitioning powers has not hitherto 
 met with due attention. Yet nothing can be 
 clearer than that it was this iniquitous measure 
 Avhich brought all the misfortunes which follow- 
 ed upon the European monarchies ; that it was 
 it which opened the gates of Germany to French 
 ambition, and brought Napoleon, with his terri- 
 ble legions, to Vienna, Berlin, and the Kremlin. 
 The more the campaigns of 1793 and 1794 are 
 studied, the more clearly does it appear that it 
 was the prospect of obtaining a share in the par- 
 tition of Poland which paralyzed the allied arms, 
 which intercepted and turned aside the legions 
 which might have overthrown the Jacobin rule, 
 and created that jealousy and division among 
 their rulers, which, more even than the energy 
 of the Republicans, contributed to their uniform 
 and astonishing success. Had the redoubtable 
 bands of Catharine been added to the armies of 
 Prussia in the plains of Champaigne in 1792, or 
 to those of Austria and England in the field of 
 Flanders in 1793, not a doubt can remain that 
 the Revolutionary party would have been over- 
 come, and a constitutional monarchy established 
 in France, with the entire concurrence of three 
 fourths of all the respectable classes in the king- 
 dom. Even in 1794, by a cordial co-operation 
 of the Prussian and Austrian forces after the fall 
 of Landrecv, the whole barrier erected by the ge- 
 nius of Vauban might have been captured, and 
 the Revolution, thrown back upon its own re- 
 sources, been permanently prevented from pro- 
 ving dangerous to the liberties of Europe. What, 
 then, paralyzed the allied armies in the midst of 
 such a career of success, and caused the cam> 
 
360 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XYIIL 
 
 paign to close under circumstances of such gen- 
 eral disaster 1 The partition of Poland, which 
 first retained the Pru.ssian battalions during the 
 crisis of the campaign in sullen inactivity on the 
 ilhine, and then led to the precipitate and indig- 
 nant abandonment of Flanders by the Austrian 
 forces. 
 
 The subsequent fate of the partitioning pow- 
 Subs ^^'^ ^^ ^ striking instance of that moral 
 
 puiMhment retribution, which, sooner or later, in 
 of the parti- nations as well as individuals, attends 
 tioaingpuw- a flagrant act of injustice. To effect 
 *"■ the destruction of Poland, Prussia 
 
 paralyzed her armies on the Rhine, and threw on 
 Austria and England the whole weight of the con- 
 test with Republican France. She thereby per- 
 mitted the growth of its military power, and the 
 battle of Jena, the treaty of Tilsit, and six years 
 of bondage, were the consequence. Suwarrow 
 entered Warsaw when its spires were yet gleam- 
 ing with the tires of Praga, and when the Vistu- 
 la i-an red with Polish blood, and before twenty 
 years had expired, a Polish army revenged on 
 
 the Moskwa that inhuman massacre, and the 
 sack of Warsaw was forgotten in the conflagra- 
 tion of Moscow. Austria withdrew from Flan- 
 ders to join in the deed of iniquity, and secure ia 
 Gallicia the fruits of injustice ; alid twice did the 
 French Guards, in consequence, pass in triumph 
 through the Avails of Vienna. 
 
 It was this scandalous spoliation, therefore^ 
 which opened the gates of Europe to French am- 
 bition; and when we recollect what unheard-of 
 disasters they brought on all the partitioning 
 powers, and, most of all, on Prussia, wliich first 
 gave the example of this interested defection 
 from the cause of general freedom, it is impossi- 
 ble not to perceive the silent but irresistible op- 
 eration of the moral laws to which the conduct 
 of nations is subjected, or to perceive in the un- 
 exampled calamities which for twenty years af- 
 terward desolated Europe, anything but the nat- 
 ural consequence and just punishment of the 
 greatest political crime wdiich had been commit- 
 ted since the ambition of the Romans subjugated 
 mankind. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1795. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Effects of the Successes of France in the preceding Cam- 
 paign. — Peace with Prussia. — State of the Empire. — 
 Treat}- of Alliance, Offensive and Defensive, between Hol- 
 land and Fiance. — Fresh Treaty between Austria and 
 England. — Efforts of England to maintain the War. — Her 
 Land and Sea Forces, and Supplies. — Treaty with Russia. 
 — Arguments in England against and for the War. — Great 
 Increase m the Patriotic Spirit of tiie People. — Exhausted 
 State of France. — Naval Operations in the Mediterranean. 
 — Combat of La Spezia.— War in the Mantime Alps. — Al- 
 lies at first successful. — Difficult Situation of the French. 
 
 ■ — Their Armies, strongly re-enforced, resume the Offen- 
 sive. — Battle of Loano. — Its decisive Consequences. — Tac- 
 tics by whicli it was gained by the Republicans. — War.m 
 Spain. — Indecisive Operations in Catalonia. — Great Suc- 
 cesses of the Republicans in Biscay. — Peace between 
 France and Spain. — Pacification of La Vendue. — Treaty 
 with the Insurgents. — Expedition to Quiberon. — Running 
 Sea-fight at Belleisle. — Landing of the Emigrants m Qui- 
 beron Bay. — Vigorous defensive .Measures of Iloche. — The 
 Invaders are blockaded. — Their desperate Situation. — Un- 
 fortunate Attempts at succour by the Chouan Chiefs. — 
 They are repulsed. — Storminsj of the Royalist lutreiich- 
 ments. — -They are driven into the Sea, or capitulate. — 
 Atrocious Cruelty of the Republicans. — Noble Conduct 
 and Death of the Royalist Prisoners. — Rapid Decline of 
 the Royalist Cause in the West of France. — War on the 
 Rhine. — Extreme Penury and Difficulties of the Republi- 
 cans on the Rhine. — State of contending Armies. — Early 
 Inactivity of the Allies. — Fall of Luxembourg. — Secret 
 Negotiations between Pichegi'U and the Allies. — Inactivi- 
 ty of the Auslrians on the Upper Rhine. — Republicans 
 cross that River. — Defensive Dispositions of the Austrians. 
 — Able and vigorous Measures of Oairfait. — He attacks 
 the Lines round Mayence. — Other Operations along the 
 River. — Republicans are driven from before Manheim, 
 which capitulates. — Wurmser drives Pichegru to the 
 Lines of the Queich. — Maritime Operations. — Results of 
 the Campaign. — Declining Affairs and exhausted State 
 of the Republicans. — Feeble Character of the War up to 
 this Period. — Great Results which might have followed a 
 ^^gorou3 Exertion of the Allied Strength, from the Lassi- 
 tude of the French. 
 
 The great successes which in every quarter 
 had signalized the conclusion of the campaign of 
 1794, led early in the following year to the disso- 
 lution of the confederacy against the French Re- 
 public. The conquest of Holland determined 
 the wavering policy of Prussia. Ear- 
 Jan. 2., I/9j. j^. ^^ January, conferences were pub- 
 licly opened at Bale, and before the end of the 
 
 month the preliminaries were signed. The pub- 
 lic articles of this treaty bound the King of Prus- 
 sia to live on friendly terms with the Repub- 
 lic, and not furnish succour to its enemies ; to 
 leave to France the undisturbed enjoyment of its 
 conquests on the left bank of the Rhine, leaving 
 the equivalent to be given to Prussia to ulterior 
 arrangement; while, on the other hand, the 
 French government engaged to withdraw its 
 troops from the Prussian possessions on the right 
 bank, and not treat as enemies the states of the 
 Empire in which Prussia took an interest.* 
 
 By the secret articles, " the King of Prussia 
 engaged not to imdertake any hostile enterprise 
 against Holland, or any country occupied by the 
 French troops ;" an indemnitj^ was stipulated for 
 Prussia, in the event of France extending her 
 frontiers to the Rhine : the Republic engaged not 
 to carry hostilities in the Empire beyond a fixed 
 line, and in case of the P^hine being permanently 
 fixed on as the boundary of France, and inclu- 
 ding the states of Deux Ponts, the Republic en- 
 gaged to undertake a debt of 1,500,000 rix-dollars, 
 due to Prussia by that potentale.t 
 
 There was, in truth, no present interest at vari- 
 ance between these powers, and the „„ 
 treaty contained little more of impor- su£.cesse°s of ^ 
 tance than a recognition of the Re- France mpre- 
 public by Frederic William ; but ceding cam- 
 there never was a more ultimately 1'^'="- Peace 
 . , , .• rriu" With Prussia, 
 
 rumous step taken by a nation. I he 
 
 conquest of Holland, which overturned the bal- 
 ance of power, and exposed Prussia uncovered 
 to the attacks of France, should have been the 
 signal for a sincere coalition, such as that which 
 had coerced the ambition of Louis XIV., and 
 subsequently overturned the power of Napoleon. 
 What a succession of disasters would such a de- 
 cided conduct in all probability have prevented; 
 what long and disastrous wars; what a prodi- 
 gious effusion of human blood ; what unheard-of 
 efforts did it require for Prussia to regain in 1813 
 the position which she occupied in 1795. But 
 
 Hard., iii., 144. 
 
 t Hard., iii., 144-146. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 361 
 
 these events were buried in the womb of Fate ; 
 no one then anticipated the coming di.sasters ; 
 and the Prussian ministers deemed themselves 
 Ibrtunate in escaping from a war, in which the 
 real interest of the monarcliy stemed to be at 
 stake. They concluded peace accordingly; they 
 let^t Austria to contend single-handed with the 
 power of France, and the battle of Jena and 
 treaty of Tilsit were the consequence.*! 
 
 The disunited and unwieldy mass of the Em- 
 State of the P^''^' without altogether discontinu- 
 Einpire. Oct., ing military operations, pursued 
 1T94. Dec. them in so languid a manner as to 
 25, 1794. |jg equivalent to a complete pacifica- 
 
 tion. Bavaria, the Elector of Mayence, and sev- 
 eral other powers, issued a declaration, that the 
 States of the Empire had not taken up arms but 
 for the protection of the states adjoining Alsace, 
 and that they had no inclination to interfere in 
 the internal affairs of France. Spain, exhausted 
 and dejected, awaited only the most favourable 
 opportunity of making a separate peace, and con- 
 cluding a "contest from wihich she had already 
 suffered so much; while Piedmont, crushed by 
 the weight of armaments beyond its strength, 
 which cost more than three times the subsidies 
 granted by England, equally desired a conclusion 
 to hostilities without venturing to express the 
 Treaty be- wish. The conquest of Holland re- 
 tween Hoi- Hcvcd the French government of all 
 land and anxiety in that quarter, by compelling 
 France. (i-,g Dutch to conclude an alliance, of- 
 fensive and defensive, with the Republic. The 
 principal conditions of that treaty were, that the 
 United Provinces ceded Venloo and Maestricht 
 to Belgium, and bound themselves to aid the 
 French with twelve ships of the line and eighteen 
 Irigates, and one half of the troops which they had 
 under arms.t 
 
 * Jom., vii., 6. Th., vii., 202. 
 
 t The British liistorian need not hesitate to express this 
 opinion, since it is not only agreeable to that of all the Ger- 
 man annalists, but expressly admitted by the able and candid 
 Prussian statesman, who concluded with Barthelemy, on the 
 part of the Directory, that unhappy pacification. "The 
 King of Prussia," says Prince Ilardenberg, "tired of war- 
 like operations, rudely awakened from his dreams on the 
 plains of Chanipaigne, and deeming a counter-revolution in 
 France impossible, said to his ministers, ' Arrange matters 
 as you like, provided you extricate me from the war with 
 France.' I5y signing the treaty of Bale, he abandoned the 
 house of Orange, sacrificed Holland, laid open the Empire 
 to French invasion, and prepared the ruin of the ancient 
 Germanic Constitution. Despising the lessons of histoiy, 
 that prince forgot that, no sooner was the independence of 
 Holland menaced in the end of the seventeenth century, 
 than a league of all the sovereigns of Europe was formed to 
 restrain the ambition of Louis XIV. ; while at this time, the 
 invasion of the same country, effected under the Republican 
 banners, ltd to a dissolution of the coalition of kings against 
 the French Revolution. From that moment every throne 
 was stripped of the magic halo wliich heretofore had sur- 
 rounded It. Accident merely prevented the treaty of B&le 
 from being followed by a general revolution in Europe. 
 
 " Had Frederic William been animated with the spirit of 
 Frederic the Great, he would liave negotiated with the olive 
 branch in one hand and the sword in the other, and sup- 
 porting Holland, he would even have included it in the line 
 of his military protection. By so doing, he would have risen 
 to the rank not only of the mediator, but the arbiter of Eu- 
 rope, and been enabled to aspire to the glorious mission of 
 balancing the dominion of the seas against Continental des- 
 potism. Whereas, the peace of B&Ie, concluded on naiTow 
 views, and without any regard to the common cause, destroy- 
 ed the personal character of Frederic William, and stripped 
 the Prussian monarchy of its glorious reputation. We may 
 add, that if, ten years afterward, Prussia was precipitated 
 into the abyss, it is to be imputed to its blind and obstinate 
 adherence to the system of neutrality, which commenced 
 ■with the treaty of Bale. No one felt this more deeply, or ex- 
 pressed it more loudly, than the Prussian diplomatist who 
 concluded that pacification." — Prince Hardenberg's Memoirs, 
 iii., 150, 151. i Jom., vii., 8, 16, 18. Th., vii., 203. 
 
 Vol. I.— Z 2 
 
 Thus the whole Vvciglit of the war fell on Aus- 
 tria and England. The former of these p ^^^ 
 powers had suffered too much by the tyTetweTn 
 loss of the Low Countries to permit her Austriaand 
 to think of peace, while the disasters l^"glaud. 
 she had experienced had not as yet been so great 
 as to compel her to renounce the hope of regain- 
 ing them. 
 
 Mr. Pitt, however, was indefatigable in his ef- 
 forts to revive the confederacy : and 
 he met with a worthy ally in Thugut, ^!-\,'^"'' ?°''^ 
 who directed the cabinet of Vienna. "">' i'^^. 
 On the 4th of May, 1795, a treaty, offensive and 
 defensive, was concluded between the two pow- 
 ers, by which Austria engaged to maintain 
 20<),000 men in the field during the approaching 
 campaign, and England to furnish a subsidy of 
 i;6,000,000 sterling. The utmost efforts were at 
 the same time made to re-enforce the imperial 
 armies on the Rhine.* 
 
 England made exertions for the prosecution of 
 the war more considerable than she £^,,^8 of 
 had yet put forth, and seemed sensible England to 
 that the national strength required to maintain 
 be more fully exerted now that the war "^'^ ■^^'^^■• 
 approached her own shores. Her naval force 
 was augmented to 100,000 seamen, and one hun- 
 dred and eight ships of the line put in commission, 
 and the land forces raised to 150,000 men. The 
 expenditure of the year, exclusive of the interest" 
 of the national debt, amounted to i:27,500,000, 
 of which .618,000,000 was raised by loan, and 
 i:3,500,000 by exchequer bills. To Land and sea 
 such an immense extent, thus early forces, and 
 in the contest, was the ruinous .sys- supplies. 
 tem of providing for the expenses of the year by 
 borrowing adopted by the British government. 
 New taxes to the amount of £1,000,000 were im- 
 posed, and, notwithstanding the most vehement 
 debates on the conduct of administration, and the 
 original expedience of the war, all parties in Par- 
 liament concurred in the necessit}-, now that we 
 were embarked in the contest, of prosecuting it 
 with vigour.t 
 
 On the 18th of Februaiy, an alliance, oflJensive 
 and defensive, was concluded between 
 Great Britain, Austria, and Russia. I'^^^^l ""''^ 
 This important event, the first step to- 
 wards the great and decisive share which that 
 power tiltimately took in the contest, was not, 
 however, at first productive of any results. The 
 Empress Catharine, whose attention was wholly- 
 engrossed in securing the immense territories 
 which had fallen to her by the partition of Poland, 
 merely sent a fleet of twelve ships of the line and 
 eight frigates to re-enforce Admiral Duncan, 
 who was cruizing in the North Seas, to blockade 
 the squadron recently acquired by France from 
 the Dutch Republic ; but neither had any oppor- 
 tm^ity to measure their strength with the enemy.i 
 
 A powerful and energetic party in England 
 .still declaimed against the war as un- Ar-ruments 
 just and unnecessary, and viewed with in England 
 secret complacency the triumphs of agamstwar. 
 the Republican forces. It was urged in Parlia- 
 ment that the Revolutionary government iu 
 France being now overturned, and one profess- 
 ing moderation installed in its stead, the great 
 object of the war was in fact at an end : that the 
 continued disasters of the allies proved the im- 
 possibility of forcing a government on France- 
 contrary to the inclination of its inhabitants: that 
 
 * Jom., vii., 15, 16. Pari. Hist., xxxii., 576. 
 t New Ann. Reg.^ 1795, p. 31, 33, 45, 49. 
 t Jom., vii., 11, 17. 
 
362 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIII. 
 
 the confederacy wa-s now in fact dissolved, and 
 the first opportunity should therefore be seized to 
 ■conclude a contest from whicli no rational hopes 
 of success any longer remained : that if we con- 
 tinued fighting till the Bourbons were restored, 
 it was impossible to sec any end to the contest, 
 or to the burden which would be imposed upon 
 England during its continuance: that nothing 
 but disaster had hitherto been experienced in the 
 struggle; and if that was the case formerly, 
 when all Europe was arrayed against the Repub- 
 lic, what might be now expected when England 
 and Austria alone were left to continue the strug- 
 gle,* and the French power extended from the 
 Pyrenees to the Texel 1 that every consideration 
 ot safety and expedience, therefore, recommend- 
 ed the speedy close of a contest, of doubtful pol- 
 icy in its commencement, and more than doubt- 
 ful justice in its principles. 
 
 Mr. Pitt replied, that the object of the war was 
 not to force the people of France to 
 Mr. Pitt's adopt any particular form of govern- 
 "'' ^' ment, but merely to secure their neigh- 
 bours from their aggression; and that, although 
 he much teared that no security could be found 
 for this till a monarchy was restored in that 
 country, yet that it was no part of the allied pol- 
 icy 10 couipel its adoption : that the government 
 of the French Republic was changed in form 
 only, and not in spirit, and was as formidable as 
 when the war was first provoked by the declama- 
 tions of the Girondists : that hostilities would 
 again be commenced as soon as the military 
 power of their enemies was dissolved, and that 
 the allies would then find it as difficult a matter 
 to reassemble their forces, as the French would 
 now find it to dissolve theirs : that it was highly 
 improbable that the Republican government 
 would be able to induce men accustomed to war 
 and rapine to return to the peaceful occupations 
 of life, and much more likely that they would 
 find it necessary to employ them in schemes of 
 ambition and plunder, to prevent them from turn- 
 ing their arms against domestic authorit}': that 
 war, however costly, at least gave to England se- 
 curity, and it would be highly impolitic to ex- 
 -change this for the peril necessarily consequent 
 upon a resumption of amicable relations with a 
 country in such a state of political contagion: 
 that peace would at once prove destructive to the 
 French West India islands, by delivering them 
 over to anarchy and Jacobinism, and from them 
 the tiame of servile revolt would speedily spread 
 to our own colonial possessions in that quarter: 
 that, notwithstanding the great successes of the 
 French on the Continent, the balance of conquest 
 in the contest with England was decidedly in fa- 
 vour of this countiy : that the losses of the Re- 
 publicans in wealth and resources had been 
 greater since the beginning of the war than those 
 of all the allies put together: that the forced re- 
 quisitions and assignats of the French, which 
 had hitherto maintained the contest, could not be 
 continued without the severities of the Reign of 
 Terror; and that now was the time, by vigorous- 
 ly continuing the contest, to compel the Directo- 
 ry to augment their redundant paper currency, 
 and thus^acceleratethe ruin which it was evident 
 such a system must sooner or later bring on the 
 financial resources of the country. t 
 
 The internal leeling of England, notwithstand- 
 
 * Mr. Fox and \Vill'erforce'.<; Speech. New Ann. Reg., 
 1795. 13, i4. Pari. Del-ates, xxxii., 231, 242. 
 
 t New Ann. Rej., 1795, p. 16, 17. Pari. Debates, xxxii., 
 242,251. 
 
 ing the continued ill success of its Great increase 
 
 arms, was daily becoming more mtiie patriot- 
 unanimous in favour of the war. ic spint of the 
 The atrocities of the Jacobins had ps^p'^- 
 moderated the ardour of many of the most en- 
 lightened of their early Iricnds, and confirmed the 
 hostility of almost all the opulent and inlluential 
 classes; the spectacle of the numerous and in- 
 teresting emigrant families who had been redu- 
 ced from the height of prosperity to utter desti- 
 tution awakened the compassion of the humane 
 over the whole country ; while the immense suc- 
 cesses of the R.epublicans, and, above all, the oc- 
 cupation of Holland, excited the hereditary and 
 ill-extinguished jealousy of the English people of 
 their ancient rivals. Although, therefore, the di- 
 vision of parties continued mo.st vehement, and 
 the suspension of the Habeas Coi"pus Act still 
 invested the government with extraordinary pow- 
 ers, yet the feeling of the country was gradually 
 becoming more united,* and its passions, like 
 those of a combatant who has been wounded in 
 the strife, were waxing warmer with all the blood 
 which it had lost. 
 
 In France, on the other hand, the exhaustion 
 consequent upon a state of extraordina- gxhaust- 
 ry and unparalleled exertion was rap- cd state of 
 idly beginning to display itself. The France, 
 system of the convention had consisted in spend- 
 ing the capital of the country by means of con- 
 fiscations, forced loans, and military requisitions, 
 and the issue of assignats, supported by the Reign 
 of Terror, had, beyond all former example, car- 
 ried their design into effect. But all such violent 
 means of obtaining supplies can, in their own 
 nature, only be temporary ; how great soever may 
 be the accumulated wealth of a state, it must in 
 time be exhausted, if not supplied by the con- 
 tinued rills of private industry. The Reign of 
 Terror, by stopping all the efibrts of individuals 
 to better their condition, and paralyzing the arms 
 of labour over the whole countr}', dried up the 
 sources of national wealth; even had the fall of 
 Robespierre not put a period to the violent means 
 adopted for rendering it available to the state, the 
 same result must soon have followed from the 
 cessation of all the sources of its supply.t 
 
 During the winter of 1794, the French govern- 
 ment made the greatest exertions to ^, , 
 
 ^ »i • ^ 1.1 .r * Naval opera- 
 
 put then- navy on a respectable loot- tions m the 
 ing, but all their efforts on that ele- Mediterrane- 
 ment led to nothing but disaster, a"- Combat 
 Early in March the Toulon fleet, "fLaSpezia. 
 consisting of thirteen ships of the line, put to sea, 
 with the design of expelling the English squad- 
 ron from the G ulf of Genoa, and landing an ex- 
 pedition in Corsica. Being ignorant of their in- 
 tention. Lord Hotham, who commanded the 
 English blockading fleet, was at Leghorn at the 
 time, and they succeeded in capturing the Ber- 
 wick, of seventy-four guns, in the Gulf of St. 
 Florent, which found itself surrounded by the 
 French fleet before its crew were aware it had 
 put to sea. But the British admiral was not 
 long in taking his revenge. On the 7th of March 
 he set sail from Leghorn with thirteen line-of- 
 battle ships, and on the I3th fell in with , ., 
 the French squadron of the same force. 
 By a skilful manoeuvre he succeeded in cutting 
 off two ships of the line, the Ca Ira and the Cen- 
 seur, which fell into the hands of the British; 
 and the remainder of the fleet, after a severe but 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1795, p. 34, 42. 
 
 t Mig., 11., 402. Th., vii.. 433. Join., vii., 56. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 363 
 
 partial action, was compelled to fall back to the 
 Isles (le Hyeres, and disembark the land troops 
 •which they had on board. By this vigorous 
 stroke the object of the expedition in the recovery 
 of Corsica was entirely frustrated ; and such was 
 the dismay with which tiie soldiers were inspired 
 from their suiTerings during its continuance, tliat 
 out of eighteen thousand men who were origi- 
 nally embarked, only ten thousand reached the 
 French army, then lying in the Mai-quisate of 
 Oneille.* 
 
 Meanwhile the courts of Vienna and of Turin 
 War ill the were making the mo.st vigorous ef- 
 Maritime forts for the prosecution of the war 
 -^ps- on the Piedmontese frontier. The 
 
 Austrians re-enforced the King of Sardinia with 
 fifteen thousand men, and the Piedmontese troops 
 raised the eliective force in the field to fifty thou- 
 sand men. The French troops on the same 
 frontier were in a still greater state of destitution 
 and misery than the army of the Rhine. From 
 the etiect of desertion and sickness, during the 
 severe winter of 1794, amid the inhospitable re- 
 gions of the Alps, the total effective forces on 
 that frontier did not exceed forty-five thousand. 
 They occupied the whole crest of the mountains, 
 from Vado to the Little St, Bernard, while eigh- 
 teen thousand of the allied forces were stationed 
 in front of Cairo, fifteen thousand near Ceva, 
 ten thousand in the valleys of Stura and Suza, 
 and six thousand on the lofty ridges which close 
 the upper extremity of the valley of the Aosta. 
 Generally speaking, the Republicans were perch- 
 ed on the summits of the mountains, while the 
 
 private credit for the supplies of the army, that 
 they were enabled either to procure provisions 
 for the troops, or inspire them with the resolu- 
 tion to defend the rugged and desolate ridge in 
 which the contest was carried on. Their situa- 
 tion was rendered the more desperate by an un- 
 .successful naval action between the British and 
 Toulon lleets in the Bay of Frejus, in the course 
 of which, the Alcide, of seventy-four guns, blew 
 up ; and the French squadron, severely shattered, 
 was compelled to take refuge in the harbour of 
 Toulon. Fortunately for the Republicans, di- 
 visions between the allied generals at this time 
 paralyzed their movements, and prevented them 
 from following up those advantages which their 
 recent successes and the open communication 
 with the English fleet seemed to alford.* 
 
 These disasters on the frontiers of Provence 
 induced the government to detach French aimieg 
 seven thousand men from the army strongly re-en- 
 of the Eastern Pyrenees, and ten forced, 
 thousand from the army of the Rhine, to re-en- 
 force the combatants on the Alps. Their arri- 
 val, towards the end of August, restored the su- 
 periority to the Republican side, while no corre- 
 sponding addition was made to the forces of the 
 allied generals : another proof, among the many 
 which these campaigns afforded, of the total 
 want of concert which prevailed between the al- 
 lies on the vast circle of operations from the 
 Rhine to the Mediterranean, and the inestimable 
 advantages which the French derived from the 
 unity of government and interior line of commu- 
 nication which they enjoyed. The consequences 
 
 Piedmontese forces occupied the narrow defiles soon proved ruinous to the allied armies.t 
 where they sunk down into the Italian plains.t | Kellerman, at liberty by this powerful re-en- 
 The campaign commenced by a well-concert- ! forcement to resume the offensive, 
 ed enterprise of the French on the Col 
 
 May 12 
 
 Dumont, near Mont Cenis, which the 
 
 Piedmontese occupied with a force of two thou- 
 sand men, from whence they were driven with 
 considerable loss. But shortly afterward, Kel- 
 lerman having been obliged to weaken his right 
 by large detachments, to suppress a revolt at 
 Toulon, the Imperialists resolved to take the 
 lead by offensive operations against the French 
 forces stationed in the Maritime Alps. For this 
 June 20 P^^'T^se a simultaneous attack was made 
 on the Republican posts at St. Giacomo, 
 Bardinetto, and Vado, which were all fortified. 
 , Though the French gained an ad- 
 
 sucJTessfui vantage at the Col di Tende, their 
 line was forced back after several 
 days' fighting. The Republicans were obliged 
 to evacuate all their positions in the Maritime 
 June 26 -^'P^- ^^^^ allied forces occupied Loa- 
 no, Finale, and Voltri, with all the maga- 
 zines and artillerj' which had been collected 
 
 and encouraged by the evident dis- ^ffei^^ye'^" 
 cord between the allied generals, 
 formed the design of separating the Sardinian 
 from the Austrian forces by a concentrated at- 
 tack upon the centre of their line, and compelling 
 the latter to give battle alone in the valley of 
 Loano. But before this plan could be carried 
 into efl'ect, the peace with Spain enabled the 
 government to detach to the support of the army 
 of Italy the ami}' of the Eastern Pyrenees, 
 wJiich arrived in the Maritime Alps before the 
 end of September, and the command of the whole 
 given to General Scherer, Kellerman being de- 
 tached to the command of the forces in Savoy. 
 This great addition rendered the Republicans 
 nearly double of the allied forces in that quarter; 
 while the courts of Turin and Vienna took no 
 steps to avert the storm preparing to burst upon 
 their heads. In truth, the Piedmontese govern- 
 ment, experiencing the fate of all weak states in 
 alliance with powerful ones, began to be as jeal- 
 
 there, and threatened the countrv' of Nice and ous of its friends as its enemies; while the im- 
 the territory of the Republic. Had the allied perial generals rendered it too e^'ident, by their 
 -generals pushed their advantages with vigour, manner and conduct, that they had no confidence 
 
 the whole right wing of the French army might 
 have been driven from the mountains, or de- 
 stroyed; for they could have collected tliirty 
 thousand fresh troops, flushed with victory, to 
 crush twenty thousand, harassed with fatigue, 
 destitute of shoes, and literally starving. Kel- 
 Difficult situ- lerman, with the a'id of his chief of 
 ation of the the staff, Berthier, exerted the utmost 
 French. degree of skill and ability to compen- 
 
 sate the inferiority of their force ; but it was with 
 the greatest difficulty, and only by pledging their 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1795, p. 138. Jom., vii., 72, 74 
 t Tout., v., 293. Jom., vii., 76, 78, 80. 
 
 either in the sincerity of the government or the 
 efficiency of their soldiers. Devins trusted for 
 his support, not to the strength of the mountains 
 which he occupied, but the co-operation of the 
 English fleet in the Bay of Genoa : a signal er- 
 ror, which soon led to "the most disastrous con- 
 sequences. t 
 
 The Austrian army, consisting of forty thou- 
 sand men, was po.sted in a strong 
 and fortified position, having its left n*"'""' ^^' 
 resting on the little seaport to-wn of 
 
 * Jom., vii., 98, 101 
 
 t Jom., vii., 280. 
 
 I Join., vii., 2S4, 293, 294, 297. 
 
 Toul., v., 293, 297, 300. 
 Toul., v., 301. 
 
364 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIIL 
 
 Loano, and its right extending to the summit of 
 the impending heights to tiie northward, from 
 whence it communicated by a chain of fortified 
 posts with the strong places of Ceva, Mondovi, 
 and Coni, held by the Piedmontese troops. Their 
 position was strong, but it was balanced by the 
 circumstance that, in case of disaster, the left 
 wing held no means of retreat. The Republi- 
 cans occupied a position in front of their oppo- 
 nents, their right resting on the little village of 
 Borghetto, on the seacoast, their left extending 
 to the Col di Tende and the summits of the 
 Maritime Alps. The army at first consisted 
 only of thirty-seven thousand men, but it was 
 raised by the successive arrival of the columns 
 from the Eastern Pyrenees, before the middle of 
 November, to sixty thousand men. Massena, 
 who had acquired a remarkable knowledge of 
 tire localities of that rugged district during the 
 preceding campaigns, and whose great military 
 abilities had already become conspicuous, was 
 intrusted with the command of the attack. Not- 
 withstanding the vast accession of force which 
 the Republicans had received, and the increased 
 activity which they had for some time evinced, 
 the Austrian commander was so little aware of 
 his danger, that he lay at La Pietra, detained by 
 an abscess in his mouth, while his officers were 
 chiefly assembled at Fcriole, when they were 
 roused from a ball by the sound of the French 
 cannon, at six o'clock on the morning of the 23d 
 of November.* 
 
 Schercr, the general-in-chief, commanded the 
 right wing, Augereau the centre, and Serrurier the 
 left. Massena's design was to force the Austrian 
 centre with an overwhelming force, and from 
 that vantage-ground to take the remainder of the 
 line in flank and rear. After haranguing his 
 troops, he led them to the assault. The Austrian 
 N 2"? 1795 centre, commanded by Argenteau, 
 ' ■ made an obstinate resistance at the 
 posts of Bardinetto and Melogno; but such was 
 the vehemence of the fresh columns which the 
 Republicans brought up to the assault, that they 
 were compelled at length to retire to a second 
 line on the right bank of the Bormida. Massena 
 soon forced that position also, and by so doing 
 got into the interior of the Austrian line, and was 
 able to take all their positions in rear. The 
 result of this first day's combat was, that the cen- 
 tre of the allies being forced, their left wing was 
 liable to be overwhelmed by the combined attacks 
 of the French centre and right wing.t 
 
 No sooner was the Austrian general made 
 Nov 24 ^^''^sible of this disaster, than he took the 
 most precipitate steps to draw back his 
 right wing. But he was not permitted to do this 
 without sustaining the 2;reatest losses. By break 
 of day Augereau was climbing the heights of the 
 Apennines, while his victorious battalions were 
 driving everything before them on their sides. In 
 conducting their retreat, the Imperialists did not 
 display the vigour or decision which could alone 
 save them in such perilous circumstances, and 
 which, on the preceding day, had extricated the 
 division commanded by Roccavina from equal 
 danger. The consequence was, that they were 
 beset on all sides in a ravine, which formed their 
 only line of retreat ; the head of the column, 
 seized with a panic, was driven back upon tlie 
 centre, and thrown into utter confusion ; and in 
 the midst of an unparalleled scene of carnage and 
 
 * Jom., Tii., 298, 309. Tout., v., 378, 379. 
 t Tout., v., 37a, 381. Jom., vii., 310-315. 
 
 Its decisive 
 consequences. 
 
 horror, forty-eight pieces of cannon and one 
 hundred caissons were abandoned. The other 
 column of the right wing only escaped by beta- 
 king themselves to almost inaccessible paths, and 
 abajidoning all their artillery, and at length, with 
 great ditficulty, efi'ected their retreat by the road 
 of the Corniche. Five thousand prisoners, eigh- 
 ty pieces of cannon, and an immense quantity of 
 ammunition and magazines, fell into the hand.s 
 of the victors ;* the total loss on the side of the 
 Austrians was not less than seven thousand, 
 while that of the French hardly amounted to one 
 thousand men. 
 
 This great victory, which terminated the cam- 
 paign of 1795 in the Alps, was of 
 decisive importance to the Republic. 
 It gave the French winter-quarters 
 at Loano, Savona, Vado, and other places on the 
 Italian side of the Apennines, and b)^ rendering 
 them masters of the valleys of the Orba, the 
 Bormida, and the Tanaro, aiibrded every facility, 
 at the commencement of the following campaign, 
 for achieving the great object of .separating the 
 Austrian from the Piedmontese troops. In Sa- 
 voy, the early fall of the snows precluded active 
 operations at that rigorous season ; but the French 
 continued to occupy their elevated position on 
 the summits of the ridge of Mont Genevrej 
 Mont Cenis, and the Little St. Bernard.t 
 
 This battle, the most decisive yet gained from 
 the commencement of the war by the Xactics bv ' 
 Republican forces, is well deserving which it was 
 of consideration. It was the first gained by tho 
 instance of the successful application l^f^pubhcans. 
 by the French troops of those principles of strat- 
 egy which were afterward carried to such per- 
 fection by Napoleon. It is the first victory in 
 which a decisive advantage was gained, where 
 the strength of the adverse army was at once 
 broken by the number of prisoners and artillery 
 which were taken. The same principles which 
 the English adopted under Rodney and Howe, 
 that of breaking the line, and falling with an 
 overwhelming force upon one wing, was here 
 caiTied into execution with decisive eflect. It is 
 worthy of observation, that this system was thus 
 practically accomplished, and fully understood^ 
 by Massena before Napoleon ever had the com- 
 mand of an army : another proof, among the 
 many which exist, that even the greatest geniu.s- 
 cannot, by more than a few years, anticipate the 
 lights of the age. Such a plan is the natural re- 
 sult of conscious prowess, and an experienced 
 superiority in combat, which leads the attacking 
 force to throw itself, without hesitation, into the 
 midst of the enemy's columns. It Avill never be 
 adopted but by the party by whom such a supe- 
 riority is felt ; it Avill never be successful buc 
 where such a superiority exists. 
 
 The war on the Spanish frontier, during this 
 campaign, was speedily brought to a war in Spain, 
 successful termination. In the West- indeci.sive op- 
 ern Pyrenees, the Republicans, du- erations in 
 ring the winter, had sustained the Catalonia, 
 greatest losses from sickness : no less than twelve 
 thousand men perished in the hospitals since the 
 troops went into their cantonments, and twenty- 
 five thousand were still sick ; onl}^ twenty-five 
 thousand, out of a nominal force of sixty thou- 
 sand, were in a condition to take the field, and 
 they, having long been reduced to half a ration a 
 day, looked more like spectres than men. It was 
 
 * Jom., Tii., 316-321. 
 t Jom., vii., 324. 
 
 Toul., v., 380-383. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 365 
 
 not till the beginning of June that the Republican 
 forces were so much strengthened, by re-enforce- 
 ments from the interior, as to be able to take the 
 jficld. The fall of Figueras and Rosas gave the 
 French a secure base for their operations in Cat- 
 alonia ; but the operations there, though upon the 
 whole successful, were not of any decisive im- 
 portance. The Spanish army in that quarter 
 was stationed on the river La Fluvia. Several 
 combats of inconsiderable importance took place, 
 the most remarkable of which was that of Bezalu, 
 where Augereau, with a small force, defeated all 
 the eflbrts of the Spanish army. The opposing 
 armies were still on the Fluvia, when the treaty 
 of peace between the two powers suspended all 
 fanner hostilities.* 
 
 It was in Biscay that the decisive action took 
 Great sue- pl^ce which hastened this important 
 cesses of the event. Twelve thousand men de- 
 Kepublicans tached from the army of La Vendee, 
 in Biscay, ^j^^j replaced in that quarter by the 
 troops who had been engaged in the reduction of 
 Luxembourg, at length put the French command- 
 er in a condition to take the field. Towards 
 , q. the end of June, the campaign commen- 
 ced by an unsuccessful attempt of the 
 French upon the corps commanded by Felan- 
 gieri ; but in the beginning of July, Moncey 
 forced the passage of the River Deva, and by a 
 vigorous attack with his centre, succeeded in di- 
 viding the Spanish army into two parts, and in- 
 terposing a hostile force between them. General 
 J . J. Crespo, who commanded the Spanish 
 ^ ^ ' left, was so vigorously pursued by the 
 Republicans, that he was compelled to abandon 
 both Bilboa and Vittoria, and found himself 
 driven to the frontiers of Old Castile, with a force 
 reduced by the sword and desertion to seven 
 thousand men. The left wing of the invading 
 army was not so successful ; and preparations 
 were making for the investment of Pampeluna, 
 when hostilities were terminated by the intelli- 
 gence of the treaty of Bale, concluded on the 12th 
 of July betv/een the hostile powers. t 
 
 By this treaty Spain recognised the French 
 Peace be- Republic, and ceded to France the 
 tween France Spanish half of the island of St. 
 and Spam. Domingo : an acquisition more em- 
 barrassing than valuable, in the state of anarchy 
 to which the precipitate measures for the eman- 
 cipation of the negroes "had reduced that once 
 flourishing colony. In return, the Republic re- 
 July 12 1795 linquished all its conquests in Eu- 
 "' ' ' rope, and the frontiers of the two 
 states were fixed as before the commencement 
 of hostilities. The principal advantage gained 
 to France by this treaty — and it proved, in the end, 
 a most important one — was the command which 
 it gave the government of two experienced and 
 courageous armies, who Avere forthwith trans- 
 ferred 10 the seat of war in the Alps, and laid the 
 foundation of the great achievements which in 
 the following campaign signalized the progress 
 of the army of Italy. 
 
 During the whole winter of 1704, the uncon- 
 Pacification querable Charette maintained, with 
 of La Yen- a few thousand men, the contest in 
 ^'^^^ La Vendee. The increase of the Re- 
 
 publican forces, the diminution of his own fol- 
 lowers, seemed only to augment the resources 
 of his courage. So highly was his perseverance 
 prized, that Suwarrow wrote with his own hand 
 
 * Jom., vii., 104, 110, 116. Tonl., v., 218, 221 
 t Toul., v., 220. Jom., vii., 118, 122, 125. 
 
 a letter expressive of his admiration; and all the 
 princes ot Europe looked to him as the only man 
 capable of restoring the royal cause. But after 
 the fall of Robespierre and the execution oi' Car- 
 rier, more moderate ideas began to prevail in the 
 French government, and the Committee of Pub- 
 lic Safety became weary of a contest apparent- 
 ly interminable, and which consumed in self- 
 destruction a large portion of the forces of the 
 Republic. At the suggestion of Carnot, they 
 published a proclamation, couched in terms of 
 reconciliation and amity; and this , .„ 
 having led to an address in similar ''"' ' 
 terms from the Royalist chiefs, conferences took 
 place between the contending parties, and a trea- 
 ty was concluded at La Jaunais for the final 
 pacification of the Avest of France.* 
 
 The principal conditions of this treaty were 
 the free and undisturbed exercise of 
 their religion to the inhabitants of Treaty with 
 the insurgent district; the estab- *''''"''"''^'"''- 
 Ifshment of a corjDs of two thousand territorial 
 guards, composed of the natives of the country, 
 and paid by government; the immediate pay- 
 ment of two millions of francs for the expenses 
 of the Avar ; various indemnities to the greatest 
 sufferers from its ravages ; the removal of the 
 sequestration laid on the emigrants, and all con- 
 demned by the ReA'olutionarj' Tribunal; the 
 tacit permission to the people to retain their 
 arms, and an exemption from every kind of tax, 
 levy, or requisition. On their side, the Royalists 
 engaged to submit to the laAvs of the Republic, 
 and, as soon as possible, surrender their artillery. 
 There Avere also secret articles, the exact nature 
 of Avhich has never been ascertained ; but Cha- 
 rette and the Royalist party have ahvays main- 
 tained that they contained an engagement on 
 the part of the convention, as soon as the state 
 of the public feeling would admit of it, to restore 
 the monarchy. This treaty, though not at the 
 time embraced by Stofiiet and the Chouans, was 
 shortly after acceded to by both the one and the 
 other.t 
 
 Nine days after the signature of this treaty, 
 Charette and his officers made a tri- . ^.^gg 1795 
 umphal entry into Nantes, amid the ^'^' ' ' • 
 acclamations of the inhabitants. Discharges of 
 artillery announced the passage of the Loire, the 
 scene of so many Republican murders by the 
 Royalist hero, who was mounted on a splendid 
 charger, dressed in blue, with the Royalist scarf 
 and a plume of white feathers on his head. Four 
 of his lieutenants rode by his side, arrayed in the 
 same manner, Avhich fonned a painful contrast 
 with the dre.ss of the commissioners of the con- 
 vention, distinguished chiefly by the red cap of 
 liberty.; 
 
 But, after the first tumults of public joy had 
 subsided, it became evident that the treaty was 
 a trace rather than a final pacification, and that 
 the seeds of inextinguishable discord subsisted 
 betAA-een the opposite parlies. The Royalists 
 and the Republicans lived exclusi\'ely with each 
 other: the officers of Charette appeared at the 
 theatre with the white cockade ; though he him- 
 self, Avho had so often rivalled Coligiiy in AA^ar, 
 surpassed him in prudence and caution during 
 peace. Carefully avoiding cA-ery menacing or 
 hostile expression, he Avas yet reserved and cir- 
 cumspect in his demeanour ; and it Avas eAident 
 to all, that, though anxio us to aA-oid an immedi- 
 
 * Lac, xii., 29S. Jom., vii., 26. 
 
 t Join.', vii., 26, 2T. 29. Lac, xii., 302. 
 
 I Lac, su., 303. Beauch., iii,, 142, 143. 
 
366 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIII. 
 
 ate rupture, he had no confidence in the continu- 
 ance of the accommodation. The members of 
 the Committee of Public Safety were impressed 
 with the same conviction. The answer they 
 made to their friends, wlien pressed on the sub- 
 ject of the treaty, was, -'We have little reliance 
 on the submission of Charette; but we are al- 
 ways gaining time, and preparing the means of 
 crushing him on the first symptoms of a revolt.* 
 In truth, the Republican pride had too good 
 reason to be mortified at this treaty. Conquer- 
 ors of all their other enemies, tliey were yet 
 seemingly humbled by their own subjects; and 
 the peasants of La Vendee had extorted terms 
 which the kings of Europe had in vain contend- 
 ed for. It is painful to think that the renewal 
 of hostilities in this district, and its tragic termi- 
 nation, was owing to the delusive hopes held out 
 by, and ill-judged assistance of Great Britain. 
 Induced by "the flattering accounts of the emi- 
 grants, the British government had 
 Expedition ^ ^„ j^ggj^ making great preparations 
 to Quiberou, ^ '^ j , ?, '^ . . t- 
 
 for a descent on the western coast oi 
 
 France, by a corps of those expatriated nobles, 
 whose fortunes had been rendered all but desper- 
 ate by the Revolution. Its success appeared to 
 them so certain, that all the terrors of the laws 
 against the emigrants could not prevent a large 
 force from being recruited among the emigrants 
 in England and Germany, and the prisoners of 
 war in the British prisons. They judged, per- 
 haps wisely, that as the expected movement was 
 to be wholly national, it would be inexpedient to 
 give the command of the expedition to a British 
 commander, or support it by any considerable 
 body of English troops. The forces embarked 
 consisted of six thousand emigrants in the pay 
 of England, a regiment of artillerymen from 
 Toulon, and they carried with them eighty pieces 
 of cannon, with all their equipages and arms, 
 and clothing for eighty thousand men. They 
 were divided into two divisions; the first com- 
 manded by Puisaye, whose representations had 
 been the origin of the plan, and the second by 
 the Count de Sombreuil. A third division of 
 English troops was destined to support the two 
 first, when they had made good their landing on 
 the French coast. The command of the whole 
 was given to the Coimt d'Artois, and great hopes 
 were entertained of its success, not so much from 
 the numerical amount of the forces on board, as 
 the illustrious names which the nobles bore, and 
 the expected co-operation of the Chouans and 
 Vendeans, who had engaged, on the first appear- 
 ance of a prince of the blood, to place eighty 
 thousand men at his disposal. t 
 
 The naval affairs of the French on the west- 
 Hunning ^rn coast had been so unfortunate as 
 sea-fight at to promise every facility to the inva- 
 Belleisle. (jing force. In winter, the Brest fleet, 
 in obedience to the positive orders of govern- 
 ment, put to sea, but its raw and inexperienced 
 crews were totally unable to face the tempests, 
 which kept even the hardy veterans of England 
 in their harbours. The squadron was dispersed 
 by a storm, five ships of the line were lost, and 
 the remainder so much damaged, that twelve 
 line-of-battle ships were alone able, in June, to 
 put to sea. This fleet, accompanied by thirteen 
 frigates, surprised the advanced guard of the 
 Channel fleet, under the command of Admiral 
 Cornwallis, near Belleisle, on the 7th of June, 
 
 * Lac, xii., 30-J. Bcauch.. iii.,241, 24S. 
 
 t Jom., vii., 135, 143. Beauch., iii., 419, 421. Th., vii., 
 
 4r)i. 
 
 but such was the skill and intrepidity of the 
 British admiral, that he succeeded in maintain- 
 ing a running fight the whole day, and at length 
 extricated his little squadron, without any loss, 
 from the fearful odds by which they were assail- 
 ed. Six days afterward, Lord Bridport, with 
 fourteen ships of the line and eight frigates, hove 
 in sight, and, after two days' manoeuvring, suc- 
 ceeded in compelling the enemy to engage. The 
 British admiral bore down in two columns on. 
 the hostile fleet, who, instead of awaiting the 
 contest, immediately fell into confusion, and 
 strained every nerve to escape. In the running 
 fight, three ships of the line were captured by the 
 English, and, if the wind had permitted all their 
 squadron to take part in the action, there can be 
 no doubt that the whole French fleet would have 
 been taken or destroyed. As it was, they were 
 so discomfited, that they crowded all sail till 
 they reached the harbour of L'Orient, and made 
 no attempt during the remainder of the season to 
 dispute with the British the empire of the seas.* 
 
 This brilliant engagement having removed 
 all obstacles to the expedition, the Laiulinf of the 
 three divisions of the emigrants set emigrants in 
 sail, and on the 27lh appeared in Quiijerou Bay 
 duiberon Bay. They immediately landed, to 
 the amount in all of about ten thousand men, 
 and made themselves masters of the Ibrt of Pen- 
 ihievre, which defends the entrance of the penin- 
 sula of the same name, and, encoiu-aged by this 
 success, disembarked all the immense stores and 
 train of artillery, which were intended to organ- 
 ize the whole Royalist forces of the west of 
 France. But dissensions immediately afterward 
 broke out between Puisaye and D'Hervilly, nei- 
 ther of whom was clearly invested with the su- 
 preme direction, the former having the command 
 of the emigrants, the latter of the British forces. 
 At the same time, a small force detached into 
 the interior having experienced a check, the 
 troops were withdrawn into the peninsula and 
 forts. The Chouans, indeed, flocked in great 
 numbers to the spot, and ten thousand of these 
 brave irregulars were armed and clothed from 
 the British fleet; but it was soon discovered that 
 their desultory mode of fighting was altogether 
 unsuited for co-operation with regular forces; 
 and, on the first occasion on which they encoun- 
 tered the Republicans, they dispersed, leaving 
 the emigrants exposed to the whole shock of the 
 enemy. This check was decisive of the fate of 
 the expedition ; the troops were all crowded into 
 the penin.sula, and lines hastily constructed to 
 defend its entrance : and it was determined to re- 
 main on the defensive ; a ruinous policy for an 
 invading force, and which can hardly fail of ex- 
 posing it to destruction.t 
 
 Meanwhile, an inconceivable degree of agita- 
 tion prevailed in the Morbihan and all along the 
 western coast of France. The appearance of a 
 few vessels in the Bay of duiberon before the 
 fleet arrived, filled the peasantrv' with the most 
 tumultuous joy; without the aid of couriers or 
 telegraphs, the intelligence spread in a few hours 
 through the whole province, and 500,000 individ- 
 uals, men, women, and children, spent the night 
 round their cottages, too anxious to sleep, and 
 listening to every breeze for farther information. 
 One of their chiefs, D'Allegre, embarked on 
 board a fishing vessel, and reached Lord Coni- 
 
 * Jom., vii., 147. Ann. Reg., 1795, p. 138. Beauch., 
 iii., 431,432. Th., vii., 457. 
 
 t Jom , vii., 153, 154. Ann. Reg., 1795, p. 71. Beauch., 
 lii., 453-455, 470. Th,,vii.,4C0. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 367 
 
 wallis's vessel, from whom he received a liberal 
 supply of powder, which was openly disembark- 
 ed on the coast. Instaniiy the whuie population 
 were at work; every hand was turned towards 
 the manufacture of the implements of war. The 
 lead wa.s stripped liom the roofs of the houses and 
 churches, and rapidly converted into balls ; the 
 women and children made caitridges;* not a 
 hand was idle ; universal joy prevailed ; the mo- 
 ment of deliverance appeared to be at hand. 
 
 The intelligence of the disembarcation of the 
 Vigorous Royalist forces excited the utmost sen- 
 measares sation through all France, and demon- 
 oflloche. stratedwhat might have been the results 
 if a powerful army, capable of arresting the Re- 
 publicans in the field, nad been thrown into the 
 western provinces while its numerous bands 
 w'ere organized in an eifective manner. Hoche 
 immediately took the most vigorous measures to 
 . face the danger ; his forces were so 
 
 are biock^^e'd. disposed as to overawe Brittany, and 
 stifle the symptoms of insurrection 
 "which manifested themselves in that extensive 
 district, while he him.self, having collected seven 
 thousand men, proceeded to the attack of the 
 'th I peninsula of duiberon. On the 7th of 
 ^^' Jul}', he advanced in close columns to 
 the lines, and, after a smart action, drove the 
 Royalists back in confusion to the intrenched 
 camp which they had formed near Fort Penthie- 
 vre. This disaster led to an open rupture be- 
 tween the emigrants and Chouan chiefs; mutu- 
 ally exasperated, they accused each other of the 
 bad success of the operations, and many thou- 
 sands of the latter disbanded, and sought to es- 
 cape from the peninsula.t 
 
 While vigour and resolution thus character- 
 ized all the operations of the Republicans, dis- 
 imion and misunderstanding paralyzed the im- 
 mense force which, under able and united man- 
 agement, might have been placed at the disposal 
 of the Royalists. The Royalist committee at 
 Paris, either ignorant of, or determined to coun- 
 teract the designs of Puisaye on the coast, sent 
 instructions to Charette and the Vendeans in 
 Lower Poitou to attempt no movement till the 
 fleet appeared on his own shores ; he, in conse- 
 quence, renewed his treaty with the convention, 
 at the very time when the expedition was appear- 
 ing off duiberon Bay, and refused to accept the 
 arms, ammunition, and money which Lord 
 Comwallis tendered to enable him to act with 
 effect. At the very time when ei^erything de- 
 pended upon unity of action and a vigorous dem- 
 onstration of strength in the outset, the Royalists 
 of Poitou, Anjou, Upper Brittany, and Maine 
 were kept in a state of inactivity by the Royal- 
 ist committee, while the emigrants and the peas- 
 ants of the Morbihan, not a tenth part of the real 
 force of the insurgents, sustained the whole 
 weight of the Republican power.t 
 
 The misery of the troops, cooped up in the 
 ,j^ . camp, soon became extreme. Eigh- 
 
 ate^situatlon!' ^°^^ thousand men found themselves 
 shut up in a corner of land, without 
 tents or lodgings of any sort to protect them from 
 the weather, and the want of provisions soon 
 rendered it absolutely necessary to discover some 
 means of enlarging ihe sphere of their operations. 
 In this extremity, Puisaye, whose courage rose 
 with the difficulties with which he was surround- 
 ed, resolved to make an effort to raise the block- 
 
 * Beaiich.,iii..423.424. 
 
 t T!i., vii , 466, 473. Jom., vii., 154. Beauch., iii.,44.'>, 
 646, 547. t Beauch., iii., 459-4C2. 
 
 ade. He was the more encouraged to make this 
 attempt from the arrival of the third division of 
 the expedition, under the Count de Sombreuil, 
 with the best regiments of the Royalists, 
 and bearing with him the commission to "'"'^ ^'• 
 himself as commander-in-chief of the whole allied 
 forces. For this purpose, lour thousand Chou- 
 ans, under the command of Tinteniac, were sent 
 by sea to the point of St. James, to attack the Re- 
 publican intrcnchments in rear, while Count 
 Vauban, with three thou.sand, was despatched to 
 Caruac, to combine with him in the same ob- 
 ject, and Puisaye, at the head of the main body, 
 assailed them in front.* 
 
 Notwithstanding the extensive line, embracing 
 twenty leagues, over which this at- ^nha . > at- 
 tack on the Republican intrench- t(.iiip'ts''at\uc- 
 ments was combined, it might have cour by the 
 been attended with success, had not Chouan chiefs. 
 Tinteniac, misled by orders received from the 
 Royal Committee at Paris, been induced, after 
 landing, to move to Elvin, where he indeed de- 
 stroyed a Republican detachment, but was pre- 
 vented from taking any part in the decisive ac- 
 tion which ensued in the Peninsula ; while Vau- 
 ban, repulsed at Carnac, was compelled to re- 
 embark his troops, and came back only in time 
 to witness the rout of the main body of the Roy- 
 alists. Meanwhile, Puisaye, ignorant of these 
 disasters, marched out of his camp at daybreak 
 on the iGth, at the head of four thousand 
 five hundred gallant men, and advanced '^"'^ '^' 
 towards the enemy. The Republicans fell back 
 at his approach to their intrcnchments, and a 
 distant discharge of musketry made the Royalists 
 believe that Tinteniac and Vauban had already 
 begun the attack in the rear, and that the decisive 
 moment was come. Full of joy and hope, Puisaye 
 gave the signal for the assault, and the emigrant 
 battalions advanced with the utmost intrepidity 
 to the foot of the redoubts ; but scarcely had they 
 reached them, when several masked batteries 
 opened a terrible fire of grape, a shower of mus- 
 ketry from above mowed down their ranks, 
 while the strength of the works in front rendered 
 any farther advance impossible. The expected 
 attack in the rear never appeared ; the Royalists 
 were exposed alone to the devastating fire of the 
 intrcnchments, and after sustaining it for some 
 time with firmness, Puisaye, seeing that the ex- 
 pected diversion had not taken place, gave the 
 signal for a retreat. It was soon converted into 
 a rout by the Republican cavalry, which issued 
 with fury out of their lines, and threw the re- 
 tiiing columns into disorder :t D'Hervilly was 
 killed, and the assailants driven back with .such 
 vehemence to the fort, that, but for the fire of the 
 English cruisers, they would have entered it pell- 
 mell with the fugitives. 
 
 This bloody repulse was a mortal stroke to 
 the Royalists. Tinteniac, returning from 
 his unfortunate digression to Elvin to- J^^Ji^^f 
 wards the scene of action on the follow- 
 ing day, was encountered and killed, after the 
 dispersion of his forces, by a light column of the 
 Republicans. On the .same day, Som- 
 breuil disembarked his forces, but they " ^ • 
 arrived in the fort only in time to share in the 
 massacre which was approaching. Hoche, re- 
 solved not to let the Royalists recover from their 
 consternation, determined to storm the fort by- 
 escalade, without going through a regular siege. 
 
 * Jom., vii., 157-160. Beauch., iii.. 47&-4S1. 
 t Th., vii., 481-485. Jom., vii., 157-159. Beauch., iil., 
 495-199. 
 
368 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIII. 
 
 g On the night of the 20th of July the Re- 
 y -0- publicans advanced in silence along the 
 shore, while the roar of the waves, occasioned by 
 a violent wind, prevented the sound of their fooi- 
 Stormino- of &teps froni being heard in the fort, 
 the Royalists' A division, under Menaye, threw 
 intrench ments. themselves into the sea, in order to 
 get round the rocks on which the redoubts were 
 erected, while Hoche himself advanced with the 
 main body to escalade the ramparts in front. 
 Menaye advanced in silence with the water up 
 to the shoulders of his grenadiers, and though 
 many were swallowed up by the waves, a sufh- 
 cient number got through the perilous pass to 
 ascend and mount the rockj- ascent of the Ibrt on 
 the side next the sea. Meanwhile the garrison, 
 confident in their numbers, were reposing in 
 fancied secimty, when the sentinels on the walls 
 discovered a long moving shadow at the foot of 
 the works. The alarm was instantly given ; the 
 cannon fii'ed on the living mass, and the soldiers 
 of Hoche, torn in pieces by the unexpected dis- 
 charge, were falling into confusion and preparing 
 to fly, when a loud shout from the other side an- 
 nouiiced the success of the escalading party im- 
 der Menaye, and the light of the cannons showed 
 them the tricolour flag flying on the highest part 
 of tlie fort. At this joyful sight the Republicans 
 returned with fury to the charge, the walls were 
 quickly scaled, and the Royalists driven from 
 their posts with such precipitation, that a large 
 park of artillery, placed in one of the most ad- 
 vanced quarters, was abandoned.* 
 
 Meanwhile, Puisaye and Vauban, v/ho were 
 Thev are awakened by the noise, made ineffec- 
 driYen into tual etibrts to rally the i'ugitives in the 
 the sea. and Peninsula. It was no longer possible ; 
 capitulate, terror had seized every heart ; emi- 
 grants, Chouans, men and women, rushed in 
 confusion towards the beach, while Hoche, vig- 
 orously following np his success, was di-iving 
 them before him at the point of the bayonet. 
 Eleven hundred brave men, the remains of the 
 emigrant legions, in vain fonned their ranks, and 
 demanded with loud cries to be led back to re- 
 gain the fort. Puisaye had gone on board the 
 English squadron, in order to put in safety his 
 correspondence, which would have compromised 
 almost the whole of Brittany, and the yoimg and 
 gallant Sombreuil could only draw up his little 
 corps on the last extremity of the sand, while the 
 surrounding waves w-ere filled with unfortunate 
 fugitives, striving, amid loud cries and showers 
 of balls, to gain the fishing barks which hovered 
 in the distance.t Many of these boats sunk from 
 the crowds which filled them, and seven hundred 
 persons lost their lives in that way. The English 
 fleet, from the violence of the tempest, was un- 
 able to approach the shore, and the remains of 
 the emigrants were supported only by the fire of 
 an English corvette, which swept the beach. At 
 length the Republicans, penetrated with admira- 
 tion for the noble conduct of their enemies, called 
 out to them to lay down their arms, and they 
 should be treated as prisoners of war ; and Som- 
 breuil, with generous devotion, stipulated that 
 the soldiers should be treated as prisoners of war, 
 and the emigrants allowed to embark, without 
 providing anytliing for his own personal safety. 
 The capitulation was agreed to by Humbert arid 
 the otficers present, though Hoche was not im- 
 plicated in it ; and upon its assurance, an officer 
 
 * Jom., vii., 162-166. Th., vii., 488^90. Lac, xii., 342, 
 343. Beauch., iii., 509, 517. 
 t Th., vii., 492. Lac, sii., 313. Puisaye, vi., 511. 
 
 was despatched thi-ough the surf, who, with 
 great difficulty, reached the corvette, and stopped 
 its destructive fire.*t The wretched fugitives, 
 numbers of whom were women, who had crowd- 
 ed round this la.st band of their defenders, now 
 rushed in despair into the waves, deeming in- 
 stant destruction preferable to the lingering tor- 
 ments awaiting them from their conquerors ; 
 from the beach the Republicans fired at their 
 heads, while many of the Royalist officers, in 
 despair, fell on their swords, and others had their 
 hands cut off in clinging to the boats which were 
 already loaded with I'ugitives. Though numbers 
 were drowned, yet many v/ere saved by the skill 
 and intrepidity of the boats of the British fleet, 
 who advanced to their assistance.: One of the 
 last boats which approached the British squadron 
 contained the Duke of Levis, severely wounded. 
 Such was the multitude which crowded the 
 shore, that the British boats were compelled to 
 keep off" for fear of being sunk by the numbers 
 who rushed into them. " Approach," exclaimed 
 the French to the boatmen; -'we ask you only 
 to take up our commander, who is bleeding to 
 death." The ensign-bearer of the regiment of 
 Hervilly added, " Only save my standard, and 
 I die content:" with heroic self-devotion, they 
 handed up their leader and standard, and return- 
 ed to the Republican fire, which speedily sent 
 them to the bottom. 
 
 Tallien, whom the convention had sent down 
 with full power, as commissioner of Atrocious cru- 
 government, to Q,uiberon Bay, made eity of the Re- 
 an atrocious use of this victory, and publicans, 
 stained with ineffaceable disgrace the glory of 
 his triumph over Robespierre. In defiance of 
 the verbal capitulation entered into with the 
 Royalists by Humbert and the officers engaged 
 in the combat, he caused the emigrant prisoners, 
 eight hundi'ed in number, to be conveyed to Au- 
 ray, where they were confmed in the churches, 
 which had been converted into temporary pris- 
 ons, while he himself repaired to Paris, where, 
 by a cruel report, he prevailed upon the govern- 
 ment to disregard the capitulation, and bathe 
 their hands in the blood of the noblest men in 
 France. "The emigrants," said he, "that vile 
 assemblage of ruffians, sustained by Pitt, those 
 execrable authors of all our disasters, have been 
 driven into the waves by the brave soldiers of 
 the Pcopublic ; but the waves have thrown them 
 back upon the sword of the law. In vain have 
 they sent forward some flags of truce to obtain 
 conditions: what legal bond can exist between 
 us and rebels, if it be not that of vengeance and 
 death V In pursuance of this advice, the con- 
 vention decreed that the prisoners should be put 
 to death, notwithstanding the etforts of the brave 
 Ploche, who exerted himself for the side of mercy.§ 
 
 ' Join., VII., 171. Lac, xii., 350. Beauch., iii., 509, 520, 
 521,522. 
 
 t Humbert advanced with the white flag, and said aloud, 
 so as to be heard by the whole line, " Lay down your arms ; 
 surrender ; tlie prisoners shall be spared.'' At the same 
 time, he asked a conference with the Royalist general. Som- 
 breuil advanced, and after a few minutes' conversation with 
 the Republican, ictumed to his own troops, and called out 
 aloud that he had agreed on a capitulation with the general 
 of the enemy. Many of his officers, more accustomed to the 
 treachery of the Republicans, refused to trust to their prom- 
 ises, and declared that they would rather fight it out to the 
 last. " What 1" said Sombreuil, "do you not believe the 
 word of a Frenchman ?"' " The faith of the Republicans," 
 said Lanlivy, " is so well known to me, that 1 will engage 
 we shall all be sacrificed." His prophecy proved too true. 
 
 t Lac, xii., 350. Jom., vii., 168, 169. Th., vii., 493. 
 Beauch., iii., 526,527. 
 
 t) Lac, xii., 355. Beauch., iii., 530. Jom., vii., 170. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 369 
 
 The unfortunate men -were .soon aware of the 
 Noble conduct ^^'^ which awaited them ; and theii- 
 and death of couduct in the last extremity reflect- 
 the Royalist ed as much honour on the Royalist, 
 pnsoners. ^s their murder did disgrace on the 
 Republican cause. The ministers of religion 
 penetrated into those asylums of approaching 
 death, and t!ie Christian faith supported the last 
 hours of their numerous inmates. An old priest, 
 <:overed with rags and iilth, one of the few who 
 had escaped the sword of the Republicans, con- 
 .veyed its consolations to the numerous captives ; 
 and tliey joined with him in the last olFices of re- 
 ligion. Their last prayers were for their king, 
 Iheir country, and the pardon of their enemies. 
 To the executioners they gave the garments 
 which were still at their disposal. Such was the 
 impression produced by the touching spectacle, 
 that even the Republican soldiers, who had been 
 brought up without any sort of religious impres- 
 sions, were moved to tears, and joined, uncover- 
 ed, in the ceremonies which they then, for the 
 first time in their lives, had v/itnessed.* 
 
 When brought before the military commis- 
 sion, Sombreuil disdained to make any appeal 
 in favour of himself; but asserted, in the most 
 .solemn terms, that the capitulation had guaran- 
 teed the lives of his followers, and that tlieir ex- 
 ecution was a crime which neither God nor man 
 would pardon. When led out to execution, he 
 refused to have his eyes bandaged ; and when 
 desired to kneel down to receive the fatal dis- 
 cliarge, replied, after a moment's reflection, " I 
 will do so; but I bend one knee to my God and 
 another to my sovereign." The other victims 
 who were led forth, insisted in such vehement 
 tenns on the capitulation, that the Republican 
 officers were obliged to give them a respite; but 
 the convention refused to listen to the dictates of 
 humanity, and they were all ordered for execii- 
 tion. Seven hundred and eleven perished with 
 a constancy worthy of a happier fate ; the re- 
 mainder were suflered to escape by the indul- 
 gence of the soldiers who were intrusted with 
 tneir massacre, and the humanity of the com- 
 missioner who succeeded Tallien in the com- 
 mand. These atrocious scenes took place in a 
 meadow near Aiuay, still held in the highest 
 veneration by the inhabitants, by whom it is 
 termed the field of martyrs. t 
 
 The broken remains of the Gluiberon expedi- 
 ■D. -,1 1 „i tion were landed in the Isle of Houat, 
 of the Royal- wherc they were soon alter jomed 
 ist cause in by an expedition of two thousand 
 the west of fj^rg hundred men from England, 
 "■ance. v.'hich took possession of the Isle 
 
 Dieu, and where the Count d'Artois assumed 
 the command. The insurgents of La Vendue, 
 tinder Charette, marched in three columns to the 
 Sables d'Olonne to join the expedition ; but so 
 rapid and decisive were the measures of Hoche, 
 that they were soon assailed by a superior force, 
 and compelled to seek safety by separating in 
 the forest of Aizenay. Several parlial insurrec- 
 tions at the same time broke out in Brittany; 
 but, from want of concert among the Royalist 
 chiefs, they came to nothing. Soon after, the 
 English expedition, not having met with the ex- 
 pected co-operation, abandoned Isle Dieu, which 
 was found to be totally unserviceable as a naval 
 station, and returned, with the Count d'Artois, 
 to Great Britain. From that moment the afiairs 
 
 * Lac, xii., 35(5. Beaiich., iii., 5-29, 530. 539. 
 t L:ic., xii., 356, 359. Beauch., iii., 532, 539. 
 ii.. 171. 
 Vol. I.— A .4 .i 
 
 Jom., 
 
 I of the Royalists rapidly declined in all the west- 
 ern provinces; the efforts of the Chouans and 
 Vendeans were confined to an inconsiderable 
 guerilla warfare ; and it was finally extinguish- 
 ed in the succeeding year by the great army and 
 able dispositions of Hoche, whom the Directory 
 invested, at the end of the campaign, with the 
 supreme command. It is painful to reflect how 
 difierent might have been the issue of the cam- 
 paign had Great Britain really put forth its 
 strength in the contest, and instead of landing a 
 few thousand men on a coast bristling with bay- 
 onets, sent thirty thousand men to make head 
 against the Republicans, till the Royalist forces 
 were so organized as to be able to take the field 
 with regular troops.* 
 
 The situation of the armies on the northern, 
 and eastern frontier remained the same 
 as at the conclusion of the last cam- ^'^''oii'he 
 paign; but their strength and efficiency 
 had singularly diminished during the severe win- 
 ter and spring which followed. Moreau had re- 
 ceived the command of the army of the north, 
 encamped in Holland ; Jourdan that of the Sam- 
 bre and Meuse, stationed on the Rhine, near Co- 
 logne ; Pichegru that of the anny of ilie Rhine, 
 cantoned from Mayence to Strasburg. But all 
 these forces were in a .state of ex- E^trem 
 treme penury, from the fall of the pa- ury and dfffi- 
 per money in which their pay was cuitics of the 
 received, "and totally destitute of the Republicans 
 equipments necessary for carrying °" ' "^ *' 
 on a campaign. They had neither caissons, nor 
 horses, nor magazines ; the soldiers were almost 
 naked, and the generals even frequently in Avanc 
 of the necessaries of life, from the failure of the 
 eight francs a month in silver, which formed the 
 inconsiderable, but necessary supplement to their 
 paper salaries. Those who were stationed in. 
 foreign countries contrived indeed, by contribu- 
 tions upon the vanquished, to supply the defi- 
 ciency of their nominal pay, and the luxury in 
 which they lived formed a strange and painful 
 contrast to the destitute situation of their brethren, 
 on the soil of the Republic. Jourdan had nei- 
 ther a bridge equipage to enable him to cross the 
 Rhine, nor a sufficiency of horses to move his 
 artillery and baggage ; Kleher, in front of Ma)"- 
 ence, had not a quarter of the artillery, or stores 
 necessary for the siege of the place. Disci- 
 pline had relaxed with the long-continued suf- 
 lerings of the soldiers, and the inactivity con- 
 sequent on such a state of destitution had con- 
 siderably diminished their military .spirit. Mul- 
 titudes had taken advantage of the relaxation of 
 authority following the fall of Robespierre to 
 desert and return to their homes; and the gov- 
 ernment, so for from being able to bring them 
 back to their colours, were not even able to le\y 
 conscripts in the interior to supply their place. 
 Numbers resorted to Paris, where the conven- 
 tion were happy to form them into battalions, for 
 their own protection against the fury of the Jaco- 
 bins. Soon the intelligence spread that the de- 
 serters were undisturbed in the interior; and this 
 extended the contagion to such a degree, that in. 
 a short time a fourth of the etTective force had 
 returned to their homes. The soldiers thought; 
 they had done enough for their country when they 
 had repelled the enemy from its frontiers, and ad- 
 vanced its standards to the Rhine; the generals, 
 doubtful of their authority, did not venture to take 
 
 * Be.iucti.,iii.,540, and iv.,29. 
 433. Join., vii,, 56, 240, 249. 
 
 Mig., ii., 402. Tb., rii.. 
 
370 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIII. 
 
 severe measures with the refractory; and those 
 ■who remained, discouraged by the lo.s.s of so great 
 a number of their comrades, felt that depression 
 which is the surest forerunner of defeat.* 
 
 The Austrians, on the other hand, having made 
 State of the the greatest etibrts during the wmter to 
 contending re-enforce their armies, and not hav- 
 aimies. ing, as yet, experienced any part of the 
 exhaustion which extraordinary exertion had 
 brought on the Republican forces, were in a 
 much better state, both in point of numbers, dis- 
 cipline, and equipment. Including the contin- 
 gents of Swabia and Bavaria, their forces on the 
 Rhine had been raised to 150,000 men; while 
 the French Ibrces on the same frontier, though 
 nominally amounting to 370,000 men, could only 
 muster 144,450 in the field.t But such was the 
 state of destitution of these forces, that the cavalry 
 was almost completely dismounted; and Jour- 
 dan could not move a few marches from his sup- 
 plies until he got twenty-five thousand horses 
 for the service of his artillery.^ 
 
 The Rhine, that majestic stream, so long the 
 boundary of the Roman Empire, separated the 
 contending armies from the Alps to the ocean. 
 The Imperialists alone had the advantage ari- 
 sing from the possession of Mayence. That bul- 
 wark of the Empire had been put into the best 
 possible state of defence, and gave the allies the 
 means of making an irruption with security upon 
 the left bank. Notwithstanding this 
 June 24, 1/95. gj.g^f advantage, such was the con- 
 sternation produced by their former reverses, that 
 Early inac- they remained inactive on the right 
 tivityofthe bank of the river till the end of June, 
 allies. when Marshal Bender, having ex- 
 
 hausted all his means of subsistence, and seeing 
 no hope of relief, was compelled to 
 ^^b°^^"^' surrender the important fortress of 
 em ourg. Luxembourg to the Republican gen- 
 erals.§ Ten thousand men, and an immense 
 train of artillery, on this occasion fell into the 
 hands of the victors. 
 
 While the Imperialists were thus allowing the 
 bulwark of the Lower Rhine to fall 
 tiatwans^be-"' JQ^o the hands of the enemy, the Prince 
 tweeu Pich- of Conde, on the Upper Rhine, was 
 egTu and the engaged in a negotiation, by which he 
 allies. hoped to procure the frontier fortress- 
 
 es of Alsace for the Bourbon princes. This 
 prince, whose little corps formed part of the left 
 wing of the Austrian army, was engaged in a 
 correspondence with the malecontents in Alsace; 
 and from them he learned that Pichegru was not 
 altogether inaccessible to negotiation. In fact, 
 this illustrious man was, on many accounts, dis- 
 
 * Mig., ii.. 402. Th., vii., 434. Jom., vii., 56, 5S. St. 
 Cyr, lii., 31, 34, 41, 50. 
 
 t The distribution of the Republican forces at the com- 
 mencement of the campaign was as follows in effective 
 troops, deducting the detachments and sick. 
 
 Active. 
 
 North 67,910 
 
 Sambre and Meusc 87,630 
 
 Rhine and Moselle 56.820 
 
 Alps 14.000 
 
 Italy 27.500 
 
 Eastern Pyrenees . 43.290 
 
 Western d'itto 33,780 
 
 West 42,000 
 
 Shores of Brittany. 51.000 
 
 Cherbourg 26,000 
 
 Garri3::ns. 
 29,000 
 66,000 
 96,800 
 4,800 
 24,000 
 4,000 
 5,000 
 
 449,930 229,600 
 
 i Jnm., vii., 33, 50. St. Cyr, iii., 35. 
 ? Th., vii., 435. .lom., vii., 61. 
 
 Nomin:il, icclu. 
 
 ding Garrisouti, 
 
 136,250 
 
 170,.f00 
 
 193,670 
 
 21,000 
 
 93,.S00 
 
 82,790 
 
 75,180 
 
 70,2('0 
 
 78,400 
 
 37,700 
 
 958,990* 
 
 * Jom., vii,, 56. 
 
 contented both with his own situation and that of 
 the country. Like Duniourier and La Fayette, 
 he had been horror-struck with the atrocities of the 
 convention, and saw no hope of permanent amend- 
 ment in the weak and disunited government which 
 had succeeded it ; while, at the same ti me, the state 
 of destitution to Avhich, in common with all the 
 army, he was reduced by the fall of the assignats, 
 in which their pay was received, rendered him 
 discontented with a government which made such 
 returns to great patriotic services. During all 
 the extremities of the Reign of Terror, Pichegru 
 and his arm)', instead of obeying the sanguinary 
 orders of the dictators, had done everything in 
 their power to furnish the means of escape to 
 their victims. He had nobly refused to execute 
 the inhuman decree which forbade the Repub- 
 lican soldiers to make prisoners of the English 
 troops. His soldiers, after the conquest of Hol- 
 land, had set a rare example of discipline ; and 
 the swa}'' he had acquired over them was such as 
 to prevent all the license and insubordination 
 which had followed the conquest of Flanders by 
 the forces of Dumourier. In these circumstan- 
 ces, nothing was more natural or more laudable 
 than that the same general who had secured the 
 independence of his country by his arms, should 
 strive to establish its internal prosperity by the 
 restoration of a constitutional throne ; and it is 
 certain that he engaged in a correspondence with 
 the Prince of Conde for the attainment of this 
 object. The Republican historians allege that 
 his fidelity was shaken b}^ ditierent motives ; that 
 his passion for pleasure was restrained by the 
 elusory nature of his pay, which, although nom- 
 inally four thousand trancs a month, was, in re- 
 ality, only one 'hundred francs, from the depre- 
 ciation of the assignats, and that he yielded to 
 the offer of a marshal's baton, the government of 
 Alsace, a pension of -200,000 francs, the chateau 
 and park of Chambold, and a million in silver. 
 No decisive evidence has yet been produced on 
 the subject; but it is certain that, after six months 
 consumed in mysterious communication, Piche- 
 gru broke off the negotiation, and prepared to- 
 obey the orders of the convention by commen- 
 cing the campaign.* 
 
 Wurmser, to whom the cabinet of Vienna had 
 intrusted the command of its forces inactivity of 
 on the Upper Rhine, remained till the the Austrians 
 beginning of September without ta- on the Upper 
 king any step. Mutually afraid, the ^'""6. 
 hostile armies occupied the opposite banks of 
 the Pchine without making any movement to dis- 
 quiet each other. His forces, including garri- 
 sons, amounted to eighty thousand men; while 
 those of Clairfait, including the same species of 
 force, were ninety-six thousand. The formida- 
 ble state of defence in which Mayence had been 
 placed, left no hope of reducing it without a reg- 
 ular siege; while a squadron of gunboats on the 
 Rhine gave the allies the command both of that 
 stream and of the numerous islands which lay on 
 its bosom.t 
 
 Jourdan, having at length procured the neces- 
 sary bridge equipage, prepared to R^p^y.cans 
 cross the Rhme m the begmning of cross that riv- 
 Septeinber. On the Gth of that month er. _ Sept. 6, 
 he effected the passage without any ^''*^- 
 serious opposition, at Eichelcamp, Neuwied, and 
 Dusseldorf, and compelled the garrison of the lat- 
 ter town to capitulate. After repulsing the Aus- 
 
 * Th., vii.. 441. Lac, xiii., 86. Jom., vii., 62, 07. St. 
 Cyr, iii., 69. 71,75. 
 t Jom., vii., 179. St. Cjt, iii., 96, 97. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 371 
 
 Irian corps in that vicinity, he advanced slowly 
 towards the Lalin, and established him- 
 Sept.ao. self on that stream a I'ortniijht afterward. 
 Meanwhile Pichegru, in obedience to the orders 
 of government, crossed the Upper Rhine at Man- 
 heim, and, by the terrors of a bombardment, com- 
 pelled that important city, one of the principal 
 bulwarks of Germany, to capitulate. This un- 
 expected event threatened to change the I'ortune 
 of the war; for Pichegru, now securely based on 
 tlie Rhine, seemed equally in a situation to com- 
 bine with Jourdan for a general attack on the al- 
 lied forces, or to direct his arms to the reduction 
 Defensive (lis- ofMayence. Alarmed by these suc- 
 positionsofthe cesses, the Austrian generals made 
 Austrians. the most piudent dispositions which 
 could have been adopted to arrest the enemy. 
 Clairfait, unable, after the loss of Man- 
 sept.22. j^pjij^^ j^ defend the line of the Lahn, 
 abandoned his position on that river, and fell 
 back behind the Mein ; while Jourdan, follow- 
 ing his opponent, and leaving a division before 
 Ehrenbreitslein, descended into the rich valley of 
 the Mein, and invested Mayence on the right 
 bank of the Rhine, at the same time that Piche- 
 gni was debouching from Manheim.* 
 
 In these critical circumstances, Clairfait dis- 
 Ablc and vi"-- plaved a degree of vigour and ability 
 orous nieas-" which led to the most important re- 
 ■nres of Clair- sults. Rc-enforced by fifteen thou- 
 ^^"- sand Hungarian recruits, that able 
 
 general deemed himself in a situation to resume 
 the offensive; and, accumulating his forces on 
 his own right, he succeeded, by a skilful march, 
 in turning the French left, and forcing them to 
 fall back into a situation where they had the en- 
 emy in their front, and the Rhine in their rear. 
 Jourdan was now in the most perilous position ; 
 his communications being threatened, his Hank 
 turned, and his rear resting on a great river, ex- 
 posed his army to destruction in the event of de- 
 feat. To avert the catastrophe of the French 
 army a century before at Turin, no other course 
 remained but to raise the siege of Mayence, and 
 fall with his whole forces on Clairfait, who was 
 now in communication with Wurmser, or to 
 abandon all his positions, and recross the Rhine. 
 The disorganized state of his army rendered the 
 latter project, afterward so ably practised by Na- 
 poleon before Mantua, impracticable, and there- 
 fore he commenced his retreat. It was conduct- 
 ed in the utmost confusion; cannon, men, and 
 horses arrived pell-mell at the bridges over the 
 Rhine, and hardly fifty men of any corps were to 
 be found together when they regained the right 
 bank. The loss in men was inconsiderable, but 
 the moral consequences of the retrograde move- 
 ment were equivalent to a severe defeat. Had 
 Clairfait been aware of the circumstance, a great 
 and decisive blow might have been struck ; for 
 General Marccau, to whom the blockade of Eh- 
 renbreitstein had been intrusted, having burned 
 his flotilla when he raised the siege, some of the 
 burning vessels were carried do-mi by the stream 
 to Neuwied, where they set fire to the bridge es- 
 tablished at that place, which was speedily con- 
 sumed. Kleber, with twentv-five thousand men, 
 who had not as yet repassed, was now in a des- 
 perate situation ; but, fortunately for him, the al- 
 lies were ignorant of the accident, and Clairfait 
 about the same time relinquished the pursuit, 
 and drew his forces towards Mayence,t where 
 
 * Jnm., vii., 19. Toul., v., 314. St. Cvr, iii., 105, 110. 
 t Tout., v., 314, 316. Jom., vii., 200, 202. St. Cyr, iij.. 
 150, 159, ISO, ia2. 
 
 he meditated operations, which soon produced 
 the most imjiortant results. 
 
 Suddenly abandoning the pursuit of the French 
 left wing, this intrepid general turned oct 29 Ho 
 by forced marches to Mayence, at the aitatks' ihe 
 head of a cho.sen corps, and at day- lines round 
 break on the following morning issu- Mayence. 
 ed out by several columns to attack the lines of 
 circumvallation, which were still in the hands of 
 the Republicans, on the left bank of the river. 
 These lines, whose remains still excite the ad- 
 miration of the traveller, were of immense ex- 
 tent, and required an army for their defence. 
 The French army had been engaged for a year 
 in their construction, and they were garrisoned 
 by thirty thousand men. The secret of the march 
 of the imperial army had been so well preserved, 
 that the besiegers were first apprized of their ar- 
 rival by the sight of the formidable columns 
 which advanced to .storm their intrenchments. 
 The Imperialists advanced in three columns, and 
 in admirable order, to the assault; and .such was 
 the consternation of the Republicans, that they 
 abandoned the first line almost without opposi- 
 tion. Such an event is generally decisive of the 
 result in the defence of intrenchments, because 
 the defenders are thunderstruck by seeing their 
 redoubts forced in any quarter, and, instead of 
 thinking of driving back the enemy, as in the 
 open field, betake themselves to a precipitate 
 flight. So it proved on the present occasion. 
 The measures of the Austrians were so well ta- 
 ken, that the French found themselves assailed 
 in all quarters at once ; they made, for some time, 
 an obstinate defence in the second line, but at 
 length, perceiving that they were turned by other 
 forces which had crossed below Mayence, they 
 fell into confusion, and fled in all directions. 
 Their loss in this brilliant afl^air was three thou- 
 sand men, and the whole artillerj', magazines, 
 and stores which they had collected with so much 
 care for the siege of the bulwark of Germany. 
 This attack on the part of Clairfait other oper- 
 was combined with other operations ations along 
 along the whole line, from Coblentz to tins river. 
 Manheim. On the same day on which it took 
 place, an island, which the Republicans had for- 
 tified, a league above Coblentz, was captured, 
 with two battalions which composed its garri- 
 son; and by this success, which rendered the 
 evacuation of the lete du jwnt of Neuwied una- 
 voidable, they were entirely driven below May- 
 ence to the left bank of the river. At the same 
 time, Wurmser attacked and carried the tile dio 
 pout erected by Pichegru on the Neckar; and 
 this success, coupled with the great blow struck 
 by Clairfait, compelled Pichegru to retire behind 
 the Pfrim, which was not accomplished ^^^ gj 
 without the utmost confusion. The small 
 number of troops which Clairfait had brought to 
 the left bank of the Rhine alone saved the Re- 
 publicans on this occasion from the greatest dis- 
 asters.* 
 
 Pichegru had left; a gaiTison ten thousand 
 strong in Manheim, and the position Republicans 
 which he had occupied enabled him are driven 
 to communicate with the place by his from before 
 right flank. Despairing of being able M="'he.m. 
 to eflect its reduction as long as this communi- 
 cation was preserved open, the Austrians ^^^ ^ 
 resolved to dislodge the French from their 
 position. For this purpose, Clairfait was re-en- 
 
 * Toul., v., 320, 322. Jom., vii., 252, 259. St. Cjr, iii., 
 200, 202. 
 
372 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XVIIL 
 
 forcedwilh twelve thousandmen from tlie army of 
 tlie Upper Rhine, and lie immediately made prep- 
 ... ,„ arations for an attack. It took place on the 
 ■ following day, and, after an obstinate re- 
 sistance, the Republicans were compelled to aban- 
 don the line of the Pfrim, and retire behind the 
 Elsbacli, leaving Manheim to its own resources.* 
 While these important events were going for- 
 ■ward on the Upper Rhine, Jourdan, with his de- 
 feated and discouraged force, was sutfering the 
 most cruel perplexity on the Lower. His army 
 •was with difficulty reorganized, and put in a 
 condition for active service ; and the Directory 
 having meanwhile succeeded to the helm of 
 affairs, Carnot transmitted to him the most press- 
 ing orders to advance to the succour of Man- 
 heim, which was now severely pressed by the 
 Austrians. At length, towards the end of No- 
 „ „„ vember, he put himself in motion at 
 " the head of forty thousand men, and ad- 
 vanced to the Nati'e, in the midst of the most 
 dreadful weather; but all his efforts were in 
 vain. The central position of Clairfait and 
 "Wurmser both covered the siege of Manheim, 
 and prevented the junction of the Republican 
 „ armies; the dehles by which a commu- 
 Nov. 2S. j^jp^fjQjj could have been maintained 
 ■were all in the hands of the Imperialists, and, 
 after several unsuccessful attacks, Jourdan was 
 
 obliged to fall back, leaving Manheim 
 Manheim j^ -^g ^-^^^ rj,^^^ important place, 
 capitulates. . , . r ■ Zx j 
 
 With a garrison oi nine thousand men, 
 
 capitulated at the same time to Wurmser.t 
 
 This important event was decisive of the fate 
 ,„ of the campaign. Wurmser, now 
 
 drives Piche- relieved from all apprehensions as 
 gru to the to his communications, brought his 
 Lncs of tlie ^vhole forces to the left bank of the 
 Quiech. Rhine, and drove back Pichegru to 
 the lines of the Ciuiech and the neighbourhood 
 of Landau ; while Clairfait pressed Jourdan so 
 severely, that he began to construct an intrench- 
 ed camp at Traerbach, with a view to secure 
 his passage over the Moselle. In this disas- 
 trous state, it was with the utmost joy that he 
 .p .- received a proposition from the Austri- 
 ^'^' ' ans, who, as well as their opponents, 
 •were exhausted with the fatigues of the cam- 
 paign, for a suspension of arms during the win- 
 ter,; in virtue of which, a line of demarcation 
 ■was drawn between the contending parties, and 
 both armies were put into winter-quarters on the 
 left bank of the Rhine. 
 
 The French marine were so completely bro- 
 ken by the disasters in the Mediterra- 
 nean and at L'Orient, that nothing 
 more of consequence took place at sea 
 during the remainder of the year. The English 
 availed themselves of their maritime supremacy 
 to make themselves masters of the important 
 station of the Cape of Good Hope, which sur- 
 rendered to Sir James Craig on the 16th of Sep- 
 tember. Unable to act in large squadrons, the 
 French con-fined themselves to mere predatoi->' 
 expeditions; and the vast extent of the English 
 commerce afforded them an ample field for this 
 species of warfare, from which, towards the 
 close of the year, they derived great success.! 
 
 By the result of this campaign the allies gained 
 considerable advantage. The career of French 
 
 Maritime 
 operations. 
 
 * Toul, v., 3-24. Th.. viii,95. St. Cvr, iii.. 210. 219. 
 
 t .lorn., vii.. 270, 27-2,274. Tout., v., 324. Th., viii., 115. 
 St. Cyr, iii.. 257. 
 
 } Jom.,vii.,276. Th., viii.. 130. Tonl., v., 323. St. CjT, 
 ti., 240. () Aua. Reg., 1795, p. 139. Joca., vii., 330. 
 
 conquest was checked, the Repub- 
 lican soldiers driven with disgrace faml^Tn ''" 
 behind the Rhine ; and while the '^ 
 
 imperial forces, so lately disheartened and de- 
 sponding, were pressing forward with the ener- 
 gy of conquest, their opponents, distracted and 
 disorderly, had lost all the spirit with which 
 they formerly were animated. The movements 
 of Clairfait and Wurmser proved that they had 
 profited by the example of their adversari&s ; 
 their tactics were no longer confined to a war of 
 posts, or the establishment of a cordon over an 
 extensive line of country, but showed that they 
 were aware of the value of an interior line of 
 operations, and of the importance of bringing an 
 overwhelming force to the decisive point. By 
 adopting these principles, they checked the ca- 
 reer of conquest, restored the spirit of their troops, 
 and not only counterbalanced the disadvantage 
 of inferior numbers, but inflicted severe losses 
 upon their adversaries. 
 
 This result was the natural efifect of the con- 
 tinuance of the contest. The ener- -n r ■ r 
 ... . ,, ^ . , Uecliniiie- af- 
 
 gy 01 a democracy is oiten lormida- fairs and ex- 
 bie during a period of popular ex- hausted state 
 citenient, and is capable of produ- "^ ^^^ Repub- 
 cing unparalleled exertions for a "^'^"^' 
 limited period ; but it rarely succeeds in main- 
 taing a lasting contest with a regular and or- 
 ganized government. The efforts of the popu- 
 lace resemble the spring of a wild beast ; if the 
 first burst fails, they rarely attempt a second. 
 During the invasions of 1793 and 1794, the 
 French nation were animated with an extraordi- 
 nai-y spirit, and urged to the defence of their 
 country by every motive which can sway a mul- 
 titude ; but their efforts, how great soever, ne- 
 cessarily and rapidly declined. During the con- 
 test they had exhausted the means of maintain- 
 ing a prolonged war ; the vehemence of their ex- 
 ertions, and the tyranny by which they were 
 called forth, rendering it impossible that they 
 could be continued. The nation, accordingly, 
 which had 1,200,000 men on foot during the in- 
 vasion of 1794, could not muster a third of the 
 number in the following campaign ; and the 
 victor of Fleurus, within a year after his tri- 
 umph, was compelled to yield to an inferior 
 enemy. 
 
 ; Nothing, also, is more remarkable, than the 
 comparatively bloodless character Feeble rharac- 
 of the war up to this period. The actor of the 
 battle of Jemappes, which gave ^var up to this 
 Flanders to Dumourier ; that of penod. 
 Nerwindi, which restored it to the Imperialists ; 
 that of Fleurus, which gave it back to the Re- 
 publicans, were all concluded at a cost of less 
 than five thousand men to the vanquished ; and 
 the loss sustained by the French at storming the 
 lines of Mayence, which decided the fate of the 
 German campaign, was only three thousand 
 men ; whereas the loss of the Austrians at 
 Aspcm was thirty thousand ; that of the Rus- 
 sians at Borodino, forty thousand ; that of the 
 allies at Waterloo, twenty thousand; and out of 
 seven thousand five hundred native English who 
 conquered at Albuera, hardly two thousand were 
 unwounded at the conclusion of the fight. So 
 much more desperately did the parties fight as 
 the contest advanced ; so much more vehement 
 were the passions excited in its latter stages ; 
 and so much more terrible was the struggle when 
 the Republicans, instead of the lukewarm sol- 
 diers of^ the south, met the sturdy inhabitants of 
 the north of Europe. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 373 
 
 Everj'thiiig, therefore, conspires to indicate, 
 Great r suits ^'^^'' ^^' ^ concentrated and vigorous 
 which "^nught etl'ort, alter the first burst ol' I'rench 
 have ibllowed patriotism Avas over, the objects of 
 a. vigorous ex- [he war niigtit have been achieved ; 
 ertionoftheal- n^t certainly tlie forcing of a hateful 
 lied strength. , •' ,-, i . .u 
 
 dynasty upon I- ranee, but the com- 
 pelling it to retire within those limits which are 
 consistent with the peace of Europe, and give up 
 its attempts to propagate its revolutionary prin- 
 ciples in other states. Had Pru.'^sia, instead of 
 weakly deserting the alliance in the beginning 
 of 1795, sent 10{),000 men to the Rhine to sup- 
 port the Austrian troops ; had Great Britain 
 raised 300,000 soldiers instead of 120,000, and 
 sent eighty thousand native English to Flanders 
 instead of five thousand emigrants to duiberon 
 Bay, no one can doubt that, in the state of ex- 
 haiistion in which France then was, the Republic 
 would have been compelled to abandon all its 
 conquests. The moment her armies were forced 
 back from foreign states, and thrown upon their 
 own resources ; the moment that war was pre- 
 vented from maintaining war, the weakness ari- 
 sing from her financial embarrassments and 
 blighted industry would have become apparent. 
 The great error of the allies, and, above all, of 
 England, at this period, was, that they did not 
 
 make sufficiently vigorous efforts at the com- 
 mencement; and thought it enough, in a stniggle 
 with the desperate energy of a revolutionary 
 state, to exert the moderate strength of an ordi- 
 nary contest. Nothing is so ill judged, in such 
 a situation, as the niggardly conduct which pro- 
 longs a war : by spending X.5O,00O,U0O more at 
 its commencement. Great Britain might have 
 saved je500,000,000 ; by sending an army worthy 
 of herself to the Continent in IT'J.'j, she might 
 have then achieved the triumph of 1815. 
 
 It was to this period of lassitude and financial 
 embarrassments, necessarily conse- prom the 
 quent upon a series of extraordinary lassitude of 
 revolutionary exertions, that Mr. Pitt ihe French, 
 always looked for the successful termination of 
 the war. Possibly, even with the slight efforts 
 which alone were then thought practicable by 
 this country, his expectations might have been 
 realized before many years had elapsed, if the 
 ordinary course of human affairs had continued. 
 But the hand of fate was on the curtain ; a new 
 era w^as about to open on human affairs, and a 
 resistless impulse to be given for a period to 
 French ambition, by the genius of that wonder- 
 ful man who has since chained the histor}' of 
 Europe to his own biography.* 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FRENCH REPUBLIC — FROM THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE TO THE ESTAELLSHMENT OF THE DIRECTORT. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 General Reaction against the Reign of Terror. — Universal 
 Transports at the Fall of Robespierre. — Gradual Fall of 
 the Committee of Pul)lic Safety, and Rise of the Thermi- 
 dorians. — Contests between the two Parties. — Rise of the 
 Jeunesse Dor^e. — Their Contests with the Jacobins. — 
 They close their Hall and destroy their Power. — Trial of 
 the Prisoners from Nantes. — Their Acquittal, and the 
 Trial of Carrier. — Dreadful Atrocities divulged during its 
 Progress.— He is condemned. — Return to Humanity in 
 the Convention. — Public Manners during this Period. — 
 Bals des Victimes. — Gradual Abolition of the Revolution- 
 ary Measures — Of the Law of the Maximum, and an Am- 
 nesty to the Children of Persons condemned during the 
 Revolution. — Impeachment of BiUaud Varennes and the 
 
 . Jacobin Leaders. Extreme Distress and Agitation in 
 Paris. — Revolt of the Populace. — Defeat of the Insurgents. 
 — Humanity of the Thermidorians after their Victory. — 
 Condemned Prisoners are transported to Ham. — And 
 thence to Cayenne. — Fresh Efforts of the Jacobins. — Ex- 
 cessive Misery at Paiis. — Great Insurrection in May. — 
 Convention Besieged. — Heroic Conduct of Boissy d'An- 
 glas. — They obtain the Mastery of the Convention, but 
 are at length defeated by the Committees and the Jeunesse 
 Dor6e. — Trial and Condemnation of Rome and the Jacobin 
 Remnant. — Condemnation of Feraud's Murderer. — Dis- 
 arming of the Faubourg .St. Antoine, and final Termina- 
 tion of the Rule of the Multitude. — Farther Progress of 
 humane Measures,and Abolition of the Revolutionary Tri- 
 bunal. — Formation of a new (Constitution. — General Aban- 
 donment of Democratic Principles from the Force of Ex- 
 perience. — Violent Reaction in tlie South of France.— 
 Generous Conduct of the DuTve of Orleans' Sons.— Death 
 and last Days of Louis XVII. in Prison. — Liberation of the 
 Duchess d'Angouleme. — Continued Captivity of Lafay- 
 ette.— General Interest in his behalf. — Completion of the 
 new Constitution.— The Constitution of the Directory. — 
 Elective Franchise confined to the Class of Proprietors. — 
 Vast Agitation in Paris and throughout France at these 
 Changes.— Coalition of the Royalists, and Sectiims of the 
 National Guard.— Vehement Royalist Declamations at the 
 Sections. — Extreme Agitation at Paris. — Clonvention throw 
 themselves on the Army. — Sections openly resolve to re- 
 volt.— Meeting of the Electors at the Theatre Francais. — 
 They resolve to fight.-^Measures of the Convention. — 
 Failure of Menou against the Insurgents. — Armed Force 
 of the Convention intrusted to Barras and Napoleon. — 
 His decisive Measures in seizing tlie Artillery.— Combat 
 lound the Tuileries.— Defeat of the Sections. — Establish- 
 
 ment of Military Despotism. — Humanity of the Conven- 
 tion after their Victoiy. — Election of the Council of An- 
 cients and Five Hundred. — Reflections on the History of 
 the Convention.— Slow Growth of all durable Human 
 Institutions. — General Reflections on the History of the 
 Revolution, and the Causes of its Disasters. 
 
 " It is a sad calamity," said Jeremy Taylor, 
 " to see a kingdom spoiled and a church afflict- 
 ed ; the priests slain with the sword, and the blood 
 of nobles mingled with cheaper sand ; religion 
 made a cause of trouble, and the best men most 
 cruelly persecuted ; government turned, and laws 
 ashamed; judges decreeing in fear and covetous- 
 ness, and the ministers of holy things setting 
 themselves again.st all that is sacred. And what 
 shall make recompense for this heap of sorrows 
 when God shall send such swords of fire 1 Even 
 the mercies of God, which shall then be made 
 public, when the people shall have suffered for 
 their sins. For I have known a luxuriant vine 
 swell into irregular twigs and bold excrescences, 
 and spend itself in leaves and little rings, and af- 
 ford Irat little clusters to the wine-press ; but 
 when the lord of the vine had caused the dressers 
 to cut the wilder plant, and make it bleed, it grew 
 temperate in its vain expense of useless leaves, 
 and knotted into fair and juicy bunches, and 
 made account of that loss of blood by the return 
 of fruit. It is thus of an alflicted kingdom cured 
 of its surfeits and punished for its sins : it bleeds 
 for its long riot, and is left ungoverned for its 
 disobedience, and chastised for its wantonness; 
 and when the sword hath let forth the corrupted 
 blood, and the fire hath purged the rest, then it 
 enters into the double joys of restitution, and 
 gives God thanks for his rod, and confesses the. 
 mercies of the Lord in making the smoke to be 
 changed into fire, and his anger into mercy. "t 
 
 * Scott's Napoleon, ii.. ad fin. 
 
 t Jeremy Taylor, vi., 182, Heber's edit. 
 
3V4 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX 
 
 Never were these traths more strongly exem- 
 plified than in France during the progress of the 
 llevolution. Each successive convulsion had 
 darkened the political atmosphere; anguish and 
 suflering incessantly increased ; virtue and reli- 
 gion seemed banished I'rom the earth ; relentless 
 cruelty reigned triumphant. The bright dawoi 
 of the morning, to which so many millions had 
 turned in thankfulness, was soon overcast, and 
 darkness deeper than midnight overspread the 
 •world. " But there is a point of depression in 
 human affairs," says Hume, " from which the 
 change is necessarily for the better." This 
 change is not owing to any oscillation between 
 good and evil in the transactions of the world, 
 but to the reaction which is always produced by 
 long-continued suffering. Wherever the ten- 
 dency of institutions is erroneous, an under cur- 
 rent begins to How, destined to correct their im- 
 perfections ; when they become destructive, it 
 overwhelms them. 
 
 The result of the conspiracy of Robespierre 
 General reac- ^nd the municipality proved that 
 tion ag-ainst this point had been reached under 
 the Reign of the Reign of Terror. On all former 
 Terror. occasions since the meeting of the 
 
 States-General, the parties which had revolted 
 against the constituted authorities had been vic- 
 torious ; on that it was vanquished. The com- 
 mittees of the assembly, the subsisting govern- 
 ment, crushed a conspiracy headed by the pow- 
 erful despot who wielded the revolutionary ener- 
 gy of France, and was supported by the terrible 
 force of the fau.xbourgs, which no former author- 
 ity had been able to withstand. This single cir- 
 cumstance demonstrated that the revolutionary 
 movement had reached its ascendant, and that 
 the opposite principles of order and justice were 
 beginning to resume their sway. From that mo- 
 ment the anarchy and passions of the people 
 subsided, the storins of the moral world began to 
 be stilled, through the receding darkness the an- 
 cient landmarks dimly appeared, and the sun of 
 heaven at length broke through the clouds 
 "which enveloped him. 
 
 " Defluit saxis agitatus humor ; 
 Concidunt venti, fugiuntque nubes ; 
 Et miuax nam sic volnere, ponto 
 Unda recumbit." 
 
 An interesting episode in the annals of the 
 Revolution occurred in the prisons during the 
 contest which preceded the fall of the tyrant. 
 From the agitation and cries in the streets, the 
 captives were aware that a popular movement 
 was impending, and a renewal of the massacres 
 of the 2d of September was anticipated from the 
 frantic multitude. Henriot had been heard in 
 the Place de Carrousel to pronounce the omin- 
 ous words, '• We must purge the prisons." The 
 sound of the generale and of the tocsin made 
 them imagine ihat their last hour had arrived, 
 and they embraced each other with tears, ex- 
 claiming, "We are all now eighty years of 
 age." After two hours of breathless anxiety, 
 they heard the decree of the convention cried 
 through the streets, which declared Robespierre 
 hors la loi, and by daybreak intelligence aiTived 
 that he was overthrown. The tran,sports which 
 ensued may be imagined ; ten thousand prison- 
 ers were relieved from the prospect of instant 
 death. In one chamber, a female prisoner, who 
 was to have been brought before the Revolution- 
 ary Tribunal that very day, was made acquaint- 
 ed wiih the intelligence by means of sig-ns from 
 a woman in the street, before she ventured to 
 
 give public demonstration of her joy, her name 
 t)ecaine afterward memorable : it was Josephine 
 Beauh.4rnois, future Empress of France.* 
 
 The transports were the same through all 
 France. The passengers precipitated them- 
 selves from the public conveyances, embraced the 
 by-standers, exclaiming, "My friends, rejoice; 
 Robespierre is no more !" Three hundred thou- 
 sand captives in the prisons were freed from the 
 terror of death ; five hundred thousand trembling 
 fugitives issued from their retreats, and embraced 
 each other with Irantic joy on the public road.t 
 An epitaph designed for his tomb expressed in 
 powerful language the public opinion on the 
 consequence of prolonging his life : 
 
 "Passant, ne pleure point son sort, 
 Car si vivait tu serais mort.'' 
 
 No words can convey an idea of the impres- 
 sion which the overthrow of Robes- Universal 
 pierre produced in Europe. The ar- transports 
 dent and enthusiastic in every countr}' which his 
 had hailed the beginning of the French i^all occa- 
 Revolution as the dawn of a brighter "'""'^ " 
 day in the political world, and in proportion to 
 the warmth of their hopes had been the griev- 
 ousness of their disappointment at the terrible 
 shades by which it was so early overcast. The 
 fall of the tyrant revived these hopes, and put 
 an end to these apprehensions ; the moral laws 
 of nature were felt to be still in operation; the 
 tyranny had only existed till it had purged the 
 world of a guilty race, and then it was itself de- 
 stro)''ed. The thoughtful admired the wisdom of 
 Providence which had made the wickedness of 
 men the instrument of their own destruction; 
 the pious beheld in their fall an immediate man- 
 ifestation of the Divine justice. 
 
 The revolution of the 9th Thermidor, how- 
 ever, was by no means, as is commonly suppo- 
 sed, the reaction of virtue against wickedness ; it 
 was the etfort of one set of assassins threatened 
 with death against another. The leaders of the 
 revolt in the convention which overthrew the 
 central government, Billaud Varennes, Collot 
 d'Herbois, Fouche, Amar, Barere, were in no 
 respect better, in some worse, than Robespierre 
 and St. Just. They conspired against him, not 
 because they hated his system, but because they 
 perceived it was about to descend upon them.- 
 selves. Little amelioration of the political sys- 
 tem was to be expected from their exertions. It 
 was public opinion, clearly and energetically ex- 
 pressed after the fall of the Committee of Public 
 Safety, which compelled them to revert to the 
 path of humanity. But this opinion was irre- 
 sistible : it forced itself upon persons the most ad- 
 verse to its principles, and finally occasioned the 
 destruction of the very men who, for their own 
 sakes, had brought about the first resistance to 
 the reign of blood. t 
 
 The convention had vanquished Robespierre 
 by means of a unanimous effort. Gradual faU 
 headed and directed by the commit- of the Com- 
 tees; but this revulsion of public miitee of Pub- 
 feeling proved too strong for the I'c Safety, 
 committees themselves. The charm of the de- 
 cemviral government was broken when its head 
 was destroyed. On the day after the fall of 
 Robespierre there were but two parlies in Paris, 
 that of the commitlees, who strove to maintain 
 the remnant of their power, and that of the liber- 
 
 * Memoires de Josephine, i., 327. Lac, xii., 124, 125. 
 Mig., li., 348-349. t Lac, xii., 126, 128. 
 
 t Hist, de la Coav., it., 215, 218. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 375 
 
 ators, who laboured to subvert thcin. The lat- 
 ter were I'roin the first distinguisiied by the name 
 of Tkcnnidorians, from tlie day on ^vhicli their 
 triumph was achieved. Taliien wa.s at their 
 head, and they soon numbered amon^r their sup- 
 porters all the generous youth of the metropo- 
 lis.* 
 
 The partv of the committees was paralyzed by 
 the fall of the municipality of Paris, sixty of the 
 most obnoxious members of which had been ex- 
 ecuted the day after the death of Robespierre. 
 Their influence consisted only in the possession 
 of the machinery of government, and in the vig- 
 our of some of their members, all of whom saw 
 no safety to themselves but in the maintenance 
 of the Revolutionary government. Billaud Va- 
 rcnnes, Collot d'Herbois, Barere, Vadier, Amar, 
 and Carnot, constituted a body, influenced by 
 the same principles, capable of maintaining 
 their authority in the most difficult circumstan- 
 ces; but after the counter-revolution of the 9th 
 Thermidor, the current of public opinion was 
 iiTesistible.t 
 
 The Thermidorians were composed of the 
 whole centre of the assembly, the 
 ^heWon^" remnant of the Royalists and the 
 party of Danton. Boissy d Anglas, 
 Sieyes, Cambaceres, Chenier, Thibaudeau, from 
 the moderate party, ranged themselves beside 
 Taliien, Freron, Legendre, Barras, Bourdon de 
 L'Oise, Rovere, and others, who had followed 
 the colours of Danton. Four of his party were 
 chosen to replace the executed members of the 
 Committee ol Public Safety, and soon succeed- 
 ed in moderating its sanguinary measures. But 
 great caution was necessary in eflecting the 
 change. The Jacobins were still powerful from 
 Iheir numbers, their discipline, and their con- 
 nexion with the affiliated societies throughout 
 France ; and their early support of the Revolution 
 identified them in the eyes of the populace with 
 its fortunes. Hence the Thermidorians did not 
 venture at first to measure their strength with 
 such antagonists; and four days after the death 
 of Robespierre, the sittings of their terrible club 
 ■were resumed. But the friends of clemency dai- 
 ly gained accessions of strength. The seventy- 
 three members of the assembly who had protest- 
 ed against the violence of the 31st of May, were 
 brought forth from prison, and joined their liber- 
 ators.: Such of the victims of that unhappy day 
 as were still alive were also restored to their 
 places in the assembly, and augmented the pha- 
 lanx of the friends of humanity. 
 
 The two parties were not long in measuring 
 Contests i)e- ^^^^"^ Strength after their common 
 tween the victorA'. Barere, on the part of the 
 two p;iriies. committee, proposed, on the 30th of 
 July 30. jyjj,^ ij^gj (ljg Revolutionai^^ Tribu- 
 nal should be continued, and that FouquierTin- 
 ville should continue to act as public accuser. 
 At his name a murmur of indignation arose in 
 the assembly, and Freron, taking advantage of 
 the general feeling, exclaimed, " I propose that 
 •we at length purge the earth of that monster, and 
 that Fouquier be sent to lick up in hell the blood 
 which he has shed." The proposal was carried 
 by acclamation. Barere endeavoured to main- 
 tain the tone of authority which he had so long 
 assumed, but it was too late. He was obliged 
 
 * Mig., ii., 318, 349. Th., vii., 3,4. Lac, .xii., 129. 
 
 + Ml-., ii., 349. Th.. vii., 14. Lac , xii., 128. Hist. 
 <Ie la Coiiv., IV., 224, 925. 
 
 t Mig., ii., 349, 330. Lac., sii., 129, J20. Th., vii., 
 16, 17. 
 
 to leave the tribune, and the defeat of the com- 
 mittee was apparent.* 
 
 The trial of this great criminal took place 
 with extraordinary formality, and in the most 
 public manner, beibre the Revolutionary Tribu- 
 nal. It developed all the injustice and oppres- 
 sion of that iniquitous court; the trial of sixty 
 or eighty prisoners in one sitting of three or lour 
 hours; the inhuman stopping of any defence, 
 and the atrocious celerity of the condemnations. 
 After a long process he was condemned, and 
 fourteen juiymen of the same tribunal along 
 Avith him. The indignation of the populace was 
 .strongly manifested when they were led out for 
 execution ; cries, groans, ancl applauses broke 
 from the crowd as they passed along. The som- 
 bre, severe air of Fouquier especially attracted 
 notice; he maintained an undaunted aspect, and 
 answered the reproaches of the people by ironi- 
 cal remarks on the dearth of provisions under 
 which the)' laboured. t 
 
 The next measures of the as.sembly were of a 
 humane tendency. The law of the 22d Prai- 
 rial against suspected persons was repealed ; and 
 though the Revolutionaiy Tribunal w-as con- 
 tinued, its forms were remodelled, and its ven- 
 geance directed in future chiefly against the au- 
 thors of the former calamities. The captives 
 were gradually liberated from confinement, and, 
 instead of the fatal chariots which formerly stood 
 at the gates of the prisons, crowds of joyous citi- 
 zens were seen receiving with transport their 
 parents or children, restored to their arms. 
 Agreeably to the advice of Danton and Camille 
 Desmoulins, the captives were not all dischar- 
 ged at once, but they were all at length restored 
 to their friends ; and at the end of two months, 
 out of ten thousand suspected persons, not one 
 remained in the prisons of Paris.j§ 
 
 The imprudent zeal of one of their party, how- 
 ever, soon convinced the Thermidorians how ne- 
 cessary it was to proceed with caution in the 
 counter-revolutionary measures. Without any 
 general concert with his friends, Lecointre de- 
 nounced Billaud, Collot, and Barere, from the 
 Committee of General Safetv, and Vadier, Amar, 
 and Vouland, from that of Public Satety, in the 
 National Assembly. This measure was prema- 
 ture; it alarmed the friends of the Revolution, 
 and was almost unanimously rejected. But for 
 the strong feeling against the former government 
 which existed in Paris, this defeat might have 
 been fatal to the friends of humanity, and re- 
 stored the Reign of Terror.ll 
 
 * Mig-., ii., 351. Lac, xii., 130. Th., vii., 3", 38. 
 
 t TouL, v., 232. 
 
 t Lac, xii., 131, 144, 145. Mig., ii., 351. Hist, de 1» 
 Conv., iv., 220, 231. 
 
 i) The efforts of the Jacobins to prevent the liberation of 
 the persons confined in prison in the departments, whom 
 they all designated as aristocrats, were veryg-reat ; but the 
 numerous and heart-rending details of the massacres which, 
 were transmitted to the convention from every part of the 
 countrv ovenvhelmed all their opposition. Among the rest, 
 one related by Merlin de Thionville excited particular at- 
 tention. It was an order signed by a man named Lefevre, 
 an adjutant-general, addressed to, and executed by, a Cap- 
 tain Mace, to drown at Paimbceuf forty-one persons ; of 
 whom one wa* an old blind man of 76 years of age ; twelve 
 women of different ages ; twelve girls below 20 years ; fif- 
 teen children, of whom ten were between 5 and 10 years of 
 age ; and five still at the lireast. The order was conceived 
 in these terms, and rigidly executed. " It is ordered to-Pe- 
 ter Mace, captain of the brig Destiny, to put ashore the 
 woman Bidet, and the remainder of the preceding list shall 
 be taken to the heights of Bhick Peter, and thrown into the 
 sea, as rebels to the law. That operation concluded, he 
 will return to his post."— Hist, de la Conv., iv., 242, 343. 
 
 y Lac, xii., 132. Mig., ii., 352. 
 
376 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX, 
 
 By the advice of Madame de Fontenai, the 
 Rise of tlie Courageous -aud eloquent friend of 
 Jeunesse Taliien, the Therniidorians called to 
 Doreo. their support the youth of the metrop- 
 olis ; men, at an as^e when generous leeling is 
 strong, and sellish considerations weak, and 
 whose minds, unwarped by the prejudices or 
 passions of former years, had expanded during 
 the worst horrors of "the Revolution. They soon 
 formed a powerful and intrepid body, ever ready 
 to combat the ellbrts of the Jacobins, and conhrm 
 the order which was beginning to prevail. Com- 
 posed of the most respectable ranks in Paris, 
 they almost all numbered a parent or relation 
 among the victims of the Revolution, and had 
 imbibed with their earliest breath the utmost 
 horror at its sanguinary excesses. To distin- 
 guish themselves from the populace, they wore 
 a particular dress, called the Costume a La Vlc- 
 iwie, consisting of a robe without a collar, ex- 
 pressive of their connexion with those who had 
 suffered by the guillotine. Instead of arms, they 
 bore short clubs, loaded with lead, and were 
 known by the name oi' JLa Jeunesse Doric. They 
 prevailed over the Jacobins at the Palais Royale, 
 where the}' had the support of the shopkeepers 
 of that opulent quarter, but wers worsted in the 
 gardens of the Tuileries, where the vicinity of 
 the club ol' their antagonists rendered their influ- 
 ence predominant. Their contests with the Dem- 
 ocrats were incessant ;* on the streets, in the 
 theatres, in the public walks, they were ever at 
 their posts, and contributed by their exertions, in 
 a most signal mannei', to confirm and direct the 
 public mind. In revolutions, the great body of 
 mankind are generally inert and passive ; the 
 lead generally falls into the hands of those who 
 have the boldness to take it. 
 
 These contests between the two parties at 
 length assumed the most important character. 
 The whole of Paris became one vast field of 
 battle, in which the friends of humanity and 
 the supporters of terror strove for the mastery 
 of the Republic. But public opinion pronoun- 
 ced itself daily more strongly in favour of the 
 Thermidorian party. Billaud Varennes declar- 
 ed in the popular societ}^ " The lion sleeps, 
 but his wakening will be terrible." This dec- 
 laration occasioned the greatest agitation in 
 Paris, and the cry was imiversal to assault the 
 club of the Jacobins. The National Guard of 
 the sections supported the troops of the Jeunesse 
 Doree, and their combined forces marched 
 against that ancient den of blood. After a short 
 struggle the doors were forced and the club dis- 
 persed. On the following day they proceeded to 
 lay their complaints before the convention, but 
 Rewbell, who drew up the report on their com- 
 plaints, pronounced their doom in the following 
 Theirrontests words : "Where was the Reign of 
 -with the Jac- Terror organized 1 At the club of 
 obins. tiie Jacobins. Where did it find its 
 
 supporters and satellites 1 Among the Jacobins. 
 Who are they who have covered France with 
 mourning, peopled its soil with Bastiles, and 
 rendered ihe Republican yoke so odious, that a 
 slave bent beneath his fetters would refuse to 
 live under it 1 The Jacobins. Who now re- 
 gret the hideous yoke from which we have so 
 recently escaped 1 The Jacobins. If you want 
 courage to pronounce on their fate at this mo- 
 ment, you have no longer a Republic, since you 
 
 * Lac. xii., 135, 147. Th., vii., 38, 39, 112, 113. Mig., 
 ii., 352, 356, 357. 
 
 have the Jacobins." The assembly r^^ ^j^^ 
 provisionally suspended their sit- their hall 
 tings ; but the club having resumed and destroy 
 the'^ir meetings on the following day, t^'eir power, 
 they were again assailed by the Troupe Doree, 
 with the powerful cry, •' Vive la con- „ „ _g. 
 ventioD ! a bas les Jacobins !" Aller "^^ " ' 
 an inerfectual struggle, they were finally disper- 
 sed, with every mark of ignominy and contempt, 
 and on the following day the commissioners of 
 the convention put a seal on their papers and. 
 terminated their existence.* 
 
 Thus fell the club of the Jacobins, the victim, 
 of the crimes it had sanctioned and the reactioa 
 it had produced. Within its walls all the great 
 changes of the Revolution had been prepared, and 
 ail its principal scenes rehearsed ; from its ener- 
 gy the triumph of the Democracy had sprmig,. 
 and from its atrocity its destruction arose. A 
 signal proof of the tendency of Revolutionary vi- 
 olence to precipitate its supporters into crime^ 
 and render them at last the victims of the atroci- 
 ty which they have committed. 
 
 Another event which contributed in the most 
 powerful manner to influence the Trial of the 
 public mind, was the trial of the pris- prisoners 
 oners from Nantes, who had been ^"rom Nantes, 
 brought up to Paris under the reign of Robes- 
 pierre. These captives, who were one hundred 
 and thirty in number when they left the banks 
 of the Loire, were reduced to ninety-four by the 
 barbarous treatment they experienced on the road. 
 Their trial was permitted to proceed by the Ther- 
 midorian party, in hopes that the detail of the 
 atrocities of the Jacobin leaders would increase 
 the horror which they had excited in the public 
 mind.f It proceeded slowly, and the series of 
 cruellies which it developed exceeded even what 
 the imagination of Dante had figured of the most 
 terrible. 
 
 The exposure of these and similar atrocities 
 could not fail in increasing the public Their acquit- 
 indignation against the society of the tal, and the 
 Jacobins, from whose emissaries they "■a' "f Car- 
 had all proceeded. The prisoners ''"''"• 
 were acquitted amid the acclamations of the peo- 
 ple ; and the public voice, wrought up to the 
 highest pitch b)' the recital of these atrocities, 
 loudly demanded the punishment of their authors., 
 Pressed by the force of public opinion, the con- 
 vention was obliged to authorize the accusation 
 of Carrier, the head of the Revolutionary Com- 
 mittee of Nantes, how unwilling soever they 
 might be to sanction a proceeding which they 
 were conscious might be di'awn into an example 
 fatal to many of themselves.! 
 
 The trial of this infamous man developed a 
 still more dreadful series of iniquities, ^ ^,r, 
 and contributed, perhaps, more than atrocities 
 any other circumstance, to confirm divulged in 
 the inclination of the public mind. ''^ progress. 
 One of the witnesses deponed " that he had ob- 
 tained a license to visit a chamber in the prisons 
 where three hundred infimts were confined ; he 
 found them groaning amid filth, and shivering 
 of cold ; on the following morning he returned, 
 but they were all gone ; they had been drowned 
 the preceding night in the Loire." Many thou- 
 sand persons, of both sexes and all ages, inclu- 
 ding an extraordinary number of children, per- 
 ished in this inhuman manner. Carrier did not 
 
 * Lac, xii., 116, 155. Mig., ii., 357, 359. Tout., v., 135,. 
 136. Th.. vii., 115, 116, 135, 151, 159, 164. 
 t Th., vii., 144. Toul . v., 101. 
 i Toai., v., 105, 114. Th., vii., 145, 146. 
 
1794.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 3TJ 
 
 deny these atrocities, but sought only to justify 
 himself by alleging the onlers of the Committee 
 of Public Safely at Paris, and the necessity uf ma- 
 king reprisals against the fanatical cruelly of the 
 insurgents of La Ventlcc. The inassacres of the 
 children, of the women, and the noyades of the 
 priests,* which could not be vindicaieil on that 
 ground, he alleged he had not commanded, al- 
 though he could not dfspute that he had permitted 
 them in a district where his authority was un- 
 bounded. 
 
 After a long trial, this infamous wretch was 
 condemned, and with him another mem- 
 Ile is con- ^^.j. ^f th;. Revolutionary Committee of 
 uemned. -^^^^^^^ -pj-^^ accjuittal of the others 
 excited the public indignation so strongly, that 
 the convention ordered that they should be ar- 
 rested anew, and the tribunal which had absolv- 
 ed them abolished.t 
 
 Yielding to the gi-owing influence of public 
 Return to hu- opinion, which daily pronounced it- 
 mauity in tlie self more Strongly in favour of hu- 
 convcntion. mane measures, the convention at 
 length revoked the decree which had expelled the 
 nobles and priests; and Cambaceres, 
 Dec. 8, 1/04. {j^j^.jjjor advantage of a moment of 
 enthusiasm, proposed a general amnesty for all 
 Revolutionary oliences other than those declared 
 capital by the criminal code. The proposition 
 ■was favourably received, and remitted to a com- 
 mittee. On the following day Tnllien proposed 
 the suppression of all the Revolutionary tribu- 
 nals ;J the Jacobins vehemently opposed the pro- 
 posal, and tlie assembly, fearful of precipitating 
 inatters by too hasty measures, contented them- 
 selves, for the present, with abridging their power. 
 
 The manners of the people during those day.s 
 Pnblic man- ot' reviving order exhibited an extra- 
 ners during ordinary mixture of Revolutionary 
 this period, recklessness with the reviving gayety 
 and elegance of the French character. The cap- 
 tives recently delivered from prison comprised 
 all the higher classes in Paris, and their habits 
 gave the tone to the general manners of the day. 
 Never was seen a more remarkable union than 
 their circles allbrded of grief and joy, of resent- 
 ment and forgetfulness, of prudence and reckless- 
 ness, of generous exaltation and blameable in- 
 difference. The first attempt made was to return 
 to elegance ■ any approach to luxuiy in the di- 
 lapidated state of their fortunes was out of the 
 question. The barbarous I'etaliation of severity 
 for cruelty, which produced such a frightful re- 
 action in the south of France, was unknown in 
 the metropolis; in the saloons of the Thermido- 
 xians, nothing but the most humane measures 
 were proposed or the most generous sentiments 
 uttered. Minds subdued by misfortune, and in- 
 fluenced by the approach of death with religious 
 feeling, breathed, on their first return into the 
 world, much of that benevolent and Christian 
 spirit which had been awakened in many cases 
 for the first lime in their minds.§ 
 
 The two centres of the society of Paris were 
 the Faubourg St. Germain and the quarter of 
 the Chaussec d'Antin ; the first comprising the 
 residence of the remains of the nobility, the last 
 of the bankers and mei'chants who had risen to 
 ■wealth during the recent troubles. Rigid econ- 
 omy prevailed in the former ; the pride of riches 
 and the passion for newly-acquired distinction 
 swayed the latter. At the theatres, at the public 
 
 » Tout., v., 129, 130. 
 t Lac, xii., 167, 168. 
 
 Th., vii., 169. 
 
 « Lac, xii., 172, 173. Th , vii., 218, 223 
 
 Vol. I.— B b b 
 
 I Tout., v., 143. 
 
 assemblies, everything breathed the recent deliv- 
 erance from death. No such thunders of apw 
 plause shook the opera as when the orchestra 
 struck up the favourite air of the Troupe Doroe 
 called Ic Riveil du Pcuple, which successfully 
 combated the revolutionary energy of the Mar~ 
 scilloise hymn. One of the most fash- 
 ionable and brilliant assemblies was ?r '** '^'^*' 
 11 I . T, ; I 1^- ,• .1 !• • Viciimes. 
 
 calleti Z/C But dcs V iclimcs, tlie conduion 
 
 of entrance to which was the loss of a near rela- 
 tion by the guillotine. Between the country 
 dances they said, "We tiance on the tombs;" 
 and a favourite dress for the hair was adopted,, 
 from the \vay in which it had been arranged 
 immediately before execution. The almanacs 
 most in request were called " Les Almanacs 
 des Prisons," in which the sublime resignation, 
 and courage of many of the captives were min- 
 gled with the ribald I y and indecency with whicli 
 others had endeavoured to dispel the gloom of 
 that sombre abode. But the Christian virtue of 
 charity was never more eminently conspicuous- 
 than among those who, recently delivered them- 
 selves from death, knew how to appreciate the 
 suflerings of their fellow-creatures.* 
 
 Meanwhile the convention gradually undid the 
 laws which had passed during the Gradual aboli- 
 Revolutionary government. The tiou of the 
 
 law of the maximum of prices, Revolutionary- 
 
 which had been introduced to lavour '"'^"sures. 
 the tumultuous inhabitants of towns at the ex- 
 pense of the industrious labourers of the country; 
 the prohibitions against Christian worship; the 
 statutes confiscating the property of the Gironde 
 party, condemned by the committees, were suc- 
 cessively repealed. This was followed by a gen- 
 eral measure, restoring to the families of all per- 
 sons condemned since the Revolution their jjrop- 
 erty, so I'ar as it had not been disposed of to others. 
 The Abbe Morellet published an eloquent appeal 
 to the public, entitled Le Cri dcs Amnesty to 
 Fairdilcs, and Legendre concluded children of those 
 a powerful speech in their favour exi-cutcd during 
 wilh these touching words : " If I ""^ Revolution, 
 possessed one acre belonging to these unfortunate 
 sufferers, never could I taste of repose. In the 
 evening, while walking in my solitary garden, I 
 would fancy I beheld in each rosebud the tears of 
 an orphan whom I had robbed of its inheritance." 
 The bust of Marat was soon after broken at the- 
 Theatre Feydeau by a band of the Troupe Doree, 
 and next day destroyed in all the public places. 
 His body, which had been buried with extraor- 
 dinary pomp in the Pantheon, was taken out and 
 thrown into a common sewer. About the same 
 time, the survivers of the twenty-two proscribed, 
 members of the Girondist party, who had been 
 in concealment since the revolt of the 31st of 
 May, were restored to their seats in the assem- 
 bly ; and the Thermidorian party saw itself 
 strengthened by the accession of Louvet, Isnard, 
 Lanjuinais, Henri Lariviere, and others, alike 
 estimable for their talents and their constancy 
 under adverse fortune.t 
 
 Strengthened by the accession of so many new- 
 members and the increasing force of i,„peachment 
 public opinion, Tallien and his of Billaud Va- 
 friends proceeded to the decisive reunesandthe 
 measure of impeaching Billaud Va- J:"^"bm lead- 
 refines, Collot d'Herbois, Barere, 
 and Vadier, the remaining heads of the Jacobins., 
 " You demand the restoration of Terror," said 
 
 * Lac, xii., 174, 176. Mig., ii., 356. 
 t Mir.. !i., 361, 363. Lac. xii., 177-179. Th., vii., 229;. 
 i 230. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 237, 245. 
 
378 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX. 
 
 Tallien: "Let us consider the means it employs 
 belbre we estimate its effects. A government 
 can never inspire terror but by menacing with 
 capital punishments : by menacing without in- 
 termission, without distinction, without investi- 
 gation, all who oppose it: by menacing without 
 proof, on mere suspicion, on no ground at all ; 
 by striking continually with relentless hand, in 
 order to inspire terror into all the world. You 
 must suspend over every action a punishment, 
 over every word a threat, over silence even a 
 suspicion : you must place under every step a 
 snare, in every family a traitor, in every tribu- 
 nal an assassin : you must put every citizen to 
 the torture, by the punishment of multitudes, and 
 subsequent massacre of the executioners, lest 
 they should become too powerful. Such is the 
 system of governing by terror: does it belong to 
 a free, humane, and regular government, or to 
 the worst species of tyranny"?" These eloquent 
 words produced a great impression:* the oppo- 
 sition against the Jacobins became so powerful, 
 both within and without the assembly, that a re- 
 turn to severe measures was impossible, and the 
 .government w-as swept along by tiie universal 
 passion for a humane administration. 
 
 This bold step, however, excited the most vi- 
 ^ , .-„, olent tumults among the Democratic 
 ' ' ■ party. Several causes at that pe- 
 riod contributed to inflame the public discontent. 
 The winter, which had set in with uncommon 
 severity, exposed many of the lower classes to 
 suffering; a .scarcity of provisions was, as usual, 
 ascribed by the multitude to the conduct of gov- 
 ernment, and the dreadful depreciation of the as- 
 signats threatened almost every individual in 
 the kingdom with ruin. Instruments of this 
 Extreme dis- dangerous description to the amount 
 tress and agi- of above eight milliards of francs, 
 tation. or ^400,000,000 sterling, had been 
 
 put into circulation by the Revolutionary gov- 
 ernment, and although their influence had been 
 prodigious at the moment in sustaining the cred- 
 it of the state, yet their nominal value soon gave 
 way, from the distrust of government, and the 
 immense quantity of confiscated property which 
 was, at the same time, brought to sale, and they 
 had now fallen to one fifteenth of the sum for 
 which they were i.ssued. " The worst rebell- 
 ions," says Lord Bacon, " are those which pro- 
 ceed from the stomach;" and of this truth Paris 
 soon furnished an example. The Jacobin lead- 
 ers, threatened with accusations, used their utmost 
 exertions to rouse the populace, and the discon- 
 tent arising from so much suffering made them 
 lend a willing ear to their seditious harangues. t 
 
 Carnot was not included in the Act of Accu- 
 sation; but he had the magnanimity to declare, 
 that, having acted with his colleagues for the 
 public good, he had no wish but to share their 
 fate. This generous proceeding embarrassed 
 the accusers; but, in order to avoid implicating 
 so illustrious a character in the impeacament, it 
 was resolved to limit it to some only of the 
 members of the committee, and Amar, Vouland, 
 and the painter David were excluded, the last 
 of whom had disgraced a fine genius by the most 
 savage revolutionary fanaticism.: 
 
 On the 1st of April a revolt was organized in 
 A.pril 1,1T95. t'lG fauxbourgs, to prevent the trial 
 JaevoU 'of the of Billaud Varennes, Collot d'Her- 
 populace. ho\^, Barere, and Vadier, which was 
 
 * IIist.de la Conv.. iv., 231. 
 
 t Mig.. li., 364, 365. Lac, x., 174-191. Th., vii.. 249, 
 ■250. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 232. t Lac, xii., 104. 
 
 about to commence two days after. The cry of 
 the insurgents was bread, and the Constitution of 
 1703, and the freedom of the patriots in confine- 
 ment. The universal suffering which had fol- 
 lowed the Democratic rule afforded the Jacobins 
 too powerful a lever to move the passions of the 
 peojile. " Since France had become Republi- 
 can," says the graphic annalist, himself a mem- 
 ber of the convention, and supporter of Robes- 
 pierre, "every species of evil had accumulated 
 upon its devoted head. Famine, a total cessa- 
 tion of commerce, civil war, attended by its usual 
 accompaniments, conflagration, robbery, pillage, 
 and murder: justice was interrupted, the sword 
 of the law wielded by iniquity: property spolia- 
 ted, confiscation rendered the order of the day, 
 the scaflbld permanently erected, calumnious de- 
 nunciations held ill the highest estimation. No- 
 thing was wanting to the general desolation: 
 virtue, merit of every sort, were persecuted with 
 unrelenting severity: debauchery encouraged, 
 arbitrary arrests universally established, the Rev- 
 olutionary armies ploughing through the state 
 like a devouring flame, hatred everywhere fo- 
 mented, hatred and disunion brought into the 
 bosom of domestic families. Never had a coun- 
 try descended so low ; never had a people been 
 overwhelmed by a similar chaos of crimes and 
 abominations."* Instigated by such sulferLngs, 
 a formidable band soon surrounded the assem- 
 bly. Speedily they forced their way in; di'unk- 
 en women, abandoned prostitutes, formed the re- 
 volting advanced guard : but speedily a more for- 
 midable band of petitioners, with pikes in their 
 hands, filled every vacant space. Having pene- 
 trated to the bar, they commenced the most sedi- 
 tious harangues; and, ascending the benches of 
 the members, seated themselves with the deputies 
 of the Mountain. Ever}'thing annoimced the ap- 
 proach of a crisis; the jacobins were recovering 
 their former audacity, and the majority of the 
 assembly, labouring luider severe apprehension, 
 were on the point of withdrawing, when, fortu- 
 nately, a large body of the Troupe Doree, who 
 had assembled at the sound of the tocsin, entered 
 the hall, under the command of Pichegru, chant- 
 ing in loud strains the " Reveil du 
 Peuple." The insurgents knew their ,^^|f;l'e„t?^ 
 masters ; and that formidable body, ° 
 
 belbre whom the strength of the monarchy had 
 so often trembled, yielded to the courage of a 
 few thousand undisciplined young men. The 
 crowd, lately so clamorous, gradually withdrew 
 from the bar, and in a short time the accu,sed 
 members were left alone to the vengeance of the 
 assembly, to answer Ibr a revolt which they had 
 so evidently excited. t 
 
 The Thermidorians made a humane use of 
 their victory. They were fearful of Humrinity of 
 making too large chasms in the ranks the Thermi- 
 of the allies, by whose assistance dorians after 
 they had so recently been delivered ^'"^" ^'"°'7- 
 from the tyranny of Robespierre; and they just- 
 ly feared a reaction in the public mind if they 
 put themselves in practice, on their first triumph, 
 the bloody maxims which they had so severely 
 condemned in their adversaries. By a concert 
 with the leaders of the Girondists, Billaud Va- 
 rennes, Collot d'Herbois, and Barere were con- 
 demned to the limited punishment of transporta- 
 tion; and seventeen members of the Mountain, 
 who had seemed most favourable to the revolt,; 
 
 » Hist, de U Conv., ii., 215. 216. 
 
 t Lac., xii., 198. Mi?., ii., 365. Hist.de la Conv., iv., 295- 
 305. t Mig., ii., 367. Tlu, vii.. 290-300. Lac, xii., 195, 19J. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 379 
 
 ^ , , were put under arrest, and the next 
 
 Condemned , r . i . -u i t ,<■ 
 
 prisuuers iirc day conducted to the chateau ol 
 truiisix.iiedto Ham. The persons thus put in 
 liaiu. confinement comprised Cambon, Ru- 
 
 amps, Thuriot, Amar, and the whole strength of 
 tlie Jacobin partv. 
 
 The translerence of the condemned deputies 
 to the chateau of Ham was not accomplished 
 without some ditiiculty. They were once res- 
 cued by the insurgent populace; but Pichegru 
 having arrived at the head of three hundred of 
 the Troupe Doree, tlie mob was dis])ersed, and 
 the prisoners again seized and conducted to tlie 
 place of their confinement. Nothing is more in- 
 structive in the history of the French Revolution 
 than the important consequences which, in all its 
 stages, attended the eflbrls even of the smallest 
 body, acting energetically in the cause of order.* 
 
 The fate of these Revolutionary leaders was 
 
 commensurate to their crimes in 
 
 And thence to j^ j ^^ ^^^^^^^i they were con- 
 
 C;i venue, , J, ... i ■ i 
 
 veyed. Their lives, which were in 
 the first instance threatened by the burning cli- 
 mate of Cayenne, were saved by the generous 
 kincbiess of the Sisters of Charity, who, in the 
 hospital on that distant shore, continued to prac- 
 tise towards the most depraved of mankind the 
 sublime principle of forgiveness of injuries. 
 CoUot d'Herbois, shortly after his recovery, en- 
 deavoured to engage the slaves in a revolt ; be- 
 ing defeated in the attempt, he was confined in 
 the fort of Siminari, where he died of a bottle 
 of spirits, which he swallowed in a moment of 
 despair.t Billaud Varcnnes survived long the 
 other companions of his exile : his hardened 
 mind prevented him from feeling the pangs of 
 remorse, and his favourite occupation was teach- 
 ing a parrot which he had tamed the jargon and 
 indecencies of the Revolutionar}' language. Ba- 
 rere had nearly died shortly after his banish- 
 ment, of a loathsome malady which he had con- 
 tracted at Rochefort ; but he survived both that 
 disease and the burning climate of Siminari, 
 and was restored to France by Napoleon in 
 1800; and before the expir}' of his exile, Billaud 
 Varennes beheld the arrival, in the hut next his 
 own, of the illustrious Pichegru, whose vigour 
 had been so instrumental in conducting liim into 
 exi]e.;§ 
 
 The Jacobins were broken, but not subdued. 
 ■Renewed ef- By the fall of Robespierre, and the 
 forts of the execution of his associates in the mu- 
 Jacobins. nicipality, they had lost the com- 
 mune; the closing of their place of debates had 
 deprived them of their centre of operations ; by 
 the exile of so many members of the assembly, 
 they were bereaved of their ablest leaders. Still 
 there remained to them the forces of the faux- 
 bourgs; the inhabitants of which retained their 
 arms, which they had received in an early period 
 
 * Lac., xii., 200. Tout., v., 213. 
 
 t Lac, xii., 201. X Lac., xii., 202. 
 
 <t Barcre was employed in oli.scure situations by Napole- 
 on, and was alive at Brussels, where he was living in great 
 poverty, in 1831. It was one of his favourite positions at 
 that time, "that the world could never be civilized till the 
 punishment of death was utterly abolished, and that no hu- 
 man being- had a right to take away the life of another." 
 This was the man who said, in 1793," " The tree of Liberty 
 cannot flourish if it is not ^^ itered by the blood of a king, 
 and il n'y a que les mcrts qui ne revient pas." So com- 
 pletely docs a revolution unhinge the human mind, that no 
 reliance can be placed, in its vicissitudes, on anything but 
 •the sense of duty which religion inspires. Before the Rev- 
 olution he was the Marquis de Veiussac, with an ample for- 
 tune.— See Sir Aithur Brooke Faulkner's Travels in Ger- 
 anany, i., 260-263. 
 
 of the Revolutionary troubles, while their needy 
 circumstances, and exa.speration at the high 
 price of provisions, rendered them ready for the 
 most desperate enterprises. The failure of their 
 revolt on the 1st of April did not discourage their 
 leaders ; they saw in it only a proof of the neces- 
 sity of making a greater effort with more formi- 
 dable forces. A general insurrection of the faux- 
 bourgs was agreed on for the 20th of May ; above 
 thirty thousand men, armed with pikes, were 
 then to march against the convention : a greater 
 force than that which had proved victorious on 
 man}' former occasions, and never before had 
 they been animated by so ferocious a spirit. 
 Their rallying ciy was " Bread, and the Consti- 
 tution of 1793."* 
 
 The succeeding night (May 19) was one of 
 the most frightful which occurred during ., .„ 
 the whole course of the Revolution. ^^ 
 From sunset Paris was the theatre of unceasing 
 perturbation : seditious groups were formed on 
 the quays, in the squares, on the boulevards : a 
 crowd of noisy, discontented persons traversed 
 every quarter, calling on the discontented, the 
 famishing, the desperate to revolt : bands of 
 women went from door to door, knocking aloud, 
 raising alarming cries in the streets, and deplo- 
 ring the death of the good Robc$]rien-e, whom the 
 aristocrats had put to death, and calling on the 
 people to rise against their ojipressors, march 
 straight to the Tuileries, and instal the true Re- 
 publicans in power. The gen^rale and the toc- 
 sin sounded at the same time : to their incessant 
 clang were soon joined hideous cries, fierce vo- 
 ciferations, mingled with the occasional dis- 
 charge of muskets and pistols ; while the can- 
 non of government sounded at intervals ; and 
 the deep bell, placed lately on the summit of the 
 great pavilion of the Tuileries, by its loud and 
 measured toll called the National Guard to the 
 defence of the convention.t 
 
 Hesitation a]ipeared on the following morning 
 of Older : the Jacobins were already in arms ; 
 immense assemblages appeared round the Pan- 
 theon, in the place of the Bastile. in that of Notre 
 Dame, in the Place de Gr^ve, in the Place Roy- 
 al. The whole city was in agitation : vast bod- 
 ies of insurgents by daybreak suiTOunded the 
 assembly, and by ten o'clock every avenue to it 
 was choked with a forest of pikes. | 
 
 The insurgents had adopted the most energet- 
 ic measures to restore the democratic order of 
 things. In the name of the " Insurgent people, 
 who had risen to obtain bread and resume their 
 rights," they established a provisional commit- 
 tee, which immediately abolished the Revolu- 
 tionary government, proclaimed the Democratic 
 Constitution of 179.'5; the dismissal of the mem- 
 bers of admini.stration, and their arrest ; the lib- 
 eration of the patriots in confinement ; the im- 
 mediate convocation of the primary assemblies; 
 the suspension of all authority not emanating 
 from the people. They resolved to create a new 
 municipality to serve as a centre of operations, 
 to seize the telegraph, the barriers, the cannon of 
 alarm, and the tocsin; and to invite all the forces, 
 both regular and irregular, to join the banners 
 of the people, and march against the assembly.§ 
 
 The misery at Paris at this time, in conse- 
 quence of tlie famine M'hich the 
 Reign of Terror had brought upon f^y^^at P™" 
 France, and t he general f^iilure of 
 
 * lac, xii., 218. Th, vii., 3S1, 382. Mig., ii., 367. 
 
 t Hist.delaC»nv.,iv., 310, 311. t lb., iv., 311, 312. 
 
 fl Mig., ii., 368, 389. Th., vii., 3Si. 
 
380 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX. 
 
 agricultural exertion, in consequence of the for- 
 ced requisitions and the law of the maximuiii, 
 had now risen to the very highest pitch. A con- 
 temporary Republican writer gives the follow- 
 ing energetic picture of the public sutfering : 
 " The convention had lost all its popularity, be- 
 cause it had evinced so little disposition to re- 
 lieve the sufferings of the people, which had now 
 become absolutely intolerable. The anarchists, 
 the enemies of order, profited by this ferment, 
 and did their utmost to augment it, because that 
 class reap no harvest but in the fields of misery. 
 France, exhausted by every species of suffering, 
 had lost even the power of uttering a complaint ; 
 and we had all arrived at such a point of depres- 
 sion, that death, if unattended by pain, would 
 have been wished for even by the youngest hu- 
 man being, because it offered the prospect of re- 
 pose, and every one panted for that blessing at 
 any price. But it was ordained that many days, 
 months, and years should still continue in that 
 state of horrible agitation, the true foretaste of 
 the torments of hell."* 
 
 The mobs which had, for some weeks prece- 
 ding, assembled in the streets on ac- 
 SnTM'ay. couiu of the high price of pro vis- 
 ions and universal suflermg, pre- 
 vented tlie convention from being aware of the 
 approach of a great popular movement, or of 
 the magnitude of the danger which threatened 
 them. No sooner, however, were they informed 
 M 20 o^^^i on the morning of the revolt, by the 
 
 ^^ ' committees of government, than they 
 took the most prompt measures to maintain their 
 authority. They instantly declared their sittings 
 permanent, voted all assemblages of the people 
 seditious, named commanders of the armed force, 
 and summoned the National Guard of the sec- 
 tions by the sound of the tocsin to their defence. 
 But these measures promised only tardy relief, 
 while tlie danger was instant and imminent. 
 Scarcely were the decrees of the convention 
 passed, when a furious multitude broke into the 
 hall, crying aloud for bread and the Constitution 
 of 1793. The president Vernier behaved with 
 a dignity befitting his situation. " Your cries," 
 he said, "will not alter one iota of our measures; 
 they will not hasten by one second the arrival 
 of provisions — they will only retard them." A 
 violent tumult drowned his voice ; the insur- 
 gents broke open the inner doors with hatchets, 
 and instantly a vociferous multitude filled the 
 whole of the room. A severe struggle ensued 
 between the National Guard, intrusted with the 
 defence of the assembly, and the furious rabble. 
 Convention be- Vernier was torn from the chair:_it 
 sieged. Hero- was immediately occupied by Bois- 
 ic conduct of sj^ d'Anglas, who, through the whole 
 Boissy d'.A.n- ^f th^t perilous day, evinced the 
 ^ '^' most heroic firmness of mind. Fe- 
 
 raud, with generous devotion, interposed his 
 body to receive the blows destined for the presi- 
 dent, he was mortally wounded, dragged out by 
 the populace, and beheaded in the lobby. They 
 instantly placed his head on a pike, and with 
 savage cries re-entered the hall, bearing aloft in 
 triumph the bloody trophy of their violence. 
 Almost all the deputies fled in consternation ; 
 none remained excepting the friends of the re- 
 volt and Boissy d'Anglas, who, with Roman con- 
 stancy, filled tire chair, and, regardless of all the 
 threats of the multitude, unceasingly protested, 
 in the name of the convention, against the vio- 
 
 * Duchess d'Ab., i., 296. 
 
 lence with which they were assailed. They 
 presented to him the lifeless head of Feraud : 
 he turned aside with emotion I'rom the horrid 
 spectacle ; they again presented it, and he bow- 
 ed with reverence before the remains of fidelity 
 and devotion. He was at length torn from his 
 chair by the efforts of his friends, and the insur- 
 gents, overawed by the grandeur of his conduct^ 
 permitted him to retire without molestation. 
 The armals of Rome afford nothing more sub- 
 lime.* 
 
 Being now undisputed masters of the conven- 
 tion, the insurgents, with the aid of They obtain the 
 their associates in the asserablj', mastery of the 
 proceeded without delay to assume legislature ; 
 the government. Amid the gloom of twilight they 
 named a president, got possession of all the bu- 
 reaux, and, in the midst of deafening applause, 
 passed a series of resolutions declaratory of their 
 intentions. The most important of these Avere the 
 restoration of the Jacobin Club, the re-establish- 
 ment of the Democratic Constitution, the recall 
 of the exiled members, the dismissal of all the 
 existing members of the government. A provis- 
 ional government and a commander of the armed 
 force were named, and everything seemed to in- 
 dicate a complete revolution. t 
 
 But, though the assembly was dissolved, the 
 committees still existed, and their firm- 
 ness saved France. All the efforts of jei'ilt^de-* 
 the insurgents to force their place of f,.ated by 
 meeting were defeated by the vigour thecommit- 
 of a few companies of National Guard, |^^^ and the 
 and a determined band of the Troupe ^™"^^ ' 
 Dorie, who guarded the avenues to that 
 last a.sylum of order and humanity. As night 
 approached, many of the mob retired to their 
 homes, and the forces of the sections began to 
 assemble in strength round the committees. En- 
 couraged by the strength of their defenders, they 
 even returned to the seat of government, and there 
 ventured on an open attack on the insurgents : 
 the sections advanced with fixed bayonets, the 
 pikemen of the fauxbourgs stood their ground, 
 and a bloody strife ensued in the hall and on the 
 benches of the convention. The opposing cries, 
 Vive les Jacobins, Vive la Convention, resound- 
 ed from the opposite sides of the room, and suc- 
 cess was for a few minutes doubtful. At length 
 the insurgents were forced back, and a frightful 
 mass of men and women, half of whom were in- 
 toxicated, were Ibrced out of the hall. At elevea 
 o'clock Legendre made a sail}', and speedily 
 routed the surrounding multitude ; they made a 
 resistance as pusillanimous as their conduct had 
 been violent ; and the members who had fled re- 
 sumed at midnight their places in the convention. 
 All that had been done by the rebel authority was 
 immediately annulled ; eight-and-twenty mem- 
 bers who had supported their proceedings were 
 put under arrest, and at five in the morning they 
 were already five leagues from Paris.; 
 
 Such was the termination of this memorable 
 revolt, which obtained the name of the insurrec- 
 tion of the 1st Prairial. On no former occasion^ 
 had the people evinced such exasperation, or a 
 spectacle so terrible been exhibited in the legis- 
 lature. If cannon were not planted in batter)-- 
 against the convention, as on the 3 1st of May, 
 
 * Mig., ii., 370. Lac, xii., 221, 223. Th., vii., 386, 39U 
 Hist, de la Conv.. iv., 320, 331. 
 
 + Mig.. ii., 370. Lac, xii., 223. Th., vii., 302-301. 
 Hist, de la Conv., iv.. 336, 337. 
 
 t Mig., ii., 371. Lac, xii., 223. Th., vii., 395, 398^ 
 Hist, de la Conv., iv., 339, 344. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 381 
 
 yet the scenes in the interior of its hall were 
 more bloody and appalling, and the victory of 
 the populace for the lime not less complete. The 
 ■want of design and decision on the part of the 
 insurgents alone made them lose tlie victory 
 after they had gained it, and saved France from 
 a return to the Keign of Blood.* 
 
 But the fauxbourgs, though defeated, were 
 not subdued. On the following day they ad- 
 vanced in still greater force against the conven- 
 tion, and had already pointed their cannon against 
 the place of their deliberation. The conduct of 
 the president Legendre on this trying occasion 
 was in the highest degree admirable. The sound 
 of the approach of the cannon made several 
 members start from their seats and run towards 
 the door. "Representatives!" cried he, " remain 
 at your posts; be steady. Nature has destined 
 us all to death ; a little sooner or later is of little 
 moment, hut an instant's vacillation would ruin 
 you forever." Awed by these words, they re- 
 sumed their seats, and awaited in silence the 
 enemies who surrounded the hall. Their de- 
 fenders, however, soon arrived ; the Jeunesse 
 Doree appeared in strength : arms Avere distribu- 
 ted to thirty thousand men ; the cavaliy appeared 
 in imposing numbers; the sections Lepelletier 
 and La Buttemoulins ranged themselves round 
 the convention; cannon were planted, and pla- 
 toons ready to discharge on both sides. Intimi- 
 dated by a resistance they had not expected, the 
 chiefs of the insurgents paused ; and the assem- 
 bly, taking advantage of their hesitation, entered 
 into a negotiation with their leaders, who pre- 
 vailed on the people to retire, after receiving the 
 assurance that the supply of provisions for the 
 capital should be attended to, and the laws of the 
 Constitution of 1793 enforced. The result of that 
 day demonstrated that the physical force of the 
 populace, however foraiidable, being deprived 
 of the guidance of leaders of ability, could not 
 contend with the permanent influence of the gov- 
 «rnment.t 
 
 Instructed by so many disasters, and such nar- 
 _, . , , row escapes from utter ruin, the con- 
 tleranatioii of vention resolved on the most decisive 
 JRomcandthe measures. Six of the most obnox- 
 Jacobin rem- ious members of the Mountain were 
 sant- delivered over to a military commis- 
 
 sion, by whom they were condemned. Three 
 of them, Rome, Goujon, and Du Q,uesnoy, stab- 
 bed themselves at the bar on receiving 
 June 1/. sgutejice, and expired in presence of the 
 judges; the other three were only mortally wound- 
 ed, and were led, still bleeding, to the scaffold. 
 They all died with a stoical iirmness, so often 
 displayed during tho.se days of anarchy, the vic- 
 tims of political, worse than any religious fanat- 
 icism.: 
 
 At length the period was arrived when the 
 Condemnation fauxbourgs, whose revolts had so 
 of Feraud's often proved fatal to the tranquillity 
 murderer. of France, were to be finally sub- 
 dued. The murderer of the deputy Feraud had 
 been discovered, and condemned by a military 
 commission. When the day of his punishment 
 approached, the convention, to prevent another 
 revolt, ordered the disarming of the fauxbourgs. 
 A band of the most intrepid of the Troupe Doree 
 imprudently advanced into that thickly peopled 
 quarter, and, after seizing some amis, found thcm- 
 
 * Th., vii., 402. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 343, 344. 
 t Mig., ii., 372. Hist, de la Conv., iv.. 349, 350. 
 i Lac, xii., 230. Mig., ii., 373. Th., vii., 407, 408. 
 Hist, de la Conv., iv., 351. 
 
 selves surrounded by its immense population. 
 They owed their safety to the humanity or pru- 
 dence of the leaders of the revolt, who hesitated 
 to imbrue their hands in the Ijlood of the best 
 families of Paris. But no sooner Disarming of 
 were they permitted to retire, than the Fauiiourg 
 the National Guard, thirty thousand '^t- Antome ; 
 strong, supported by four thousand troops of the 
 line, surrounded the Revolutionary quarter; the 
 avenues leading to it were planted with cannon, 
 and mortars disposed on conspicuous situations, 
 to terrify them into submission. Alarmed at the 
 prospect of a bombardment, by which their prop- 
 erty would have been endangered, the master 
 manufacturers and chiefs of the revolt had a con- 
 ference, at which it was resolved to make an un- 
 conditional surrender. They submitted without 
 limitation to the terms of the assembly; their 
 cannon v/ere taken from them, the cannoniers 
 disbanded; the Revolutionary committees sup- 
 pressed ; the Constitution of 1793 abolished, and 
 the formidable pikes, which, since the 14th of 
 July, 179S, had so often struck terror into Paris, 
 finally given up. Shortly after, the military 
 force was taken from the populace. The Na- 
 tional Guards were organized on a new footing; 
 the workmen, the i^alets, the indigent citizens 
 were excluded from its ranks, and its new mem- 
 bers, regularly organized by battalions and bri- 
 gades, were subjected to the orders of the Mili- 
 tary- Committee. At the same time, in accord- 
 ance to an earnest petition from the few remain- 
 ing Catholics, they were permitted to make use 
 of the churches, on condition of maintaining 
 them at their own expense.* 
 
 Thus terminated the reign of the multitude, 
 six years after it had been first And termination 
 established, by the storming of the of the rule of the 
 Bastile. From the period of their multitude, 
 being disarmed, the populace took no farther 
 share in the changes ot government; 24th m^ 
 they were brought about solely by the ^-g^^ '^^' 
 middling classes and the army. The 
 Revolution, considered as a movement of the 
 people, was thereafter at an end ; the subsequent 
 struggles were merely the contests of other powers 
 for the throne which they had made vacant. 
 
 The gradual relaxation of the extraordinary 
 rigour of government erected by the convention, 
 presents an interesting epoch in the history of 
 the Revolution. 
 
 After the overthrow of Robespierre, the con- 
 vention endeavoured to retrace their Measures of 
 steps towards the natural order of the convention 
 society; hut they experienced the after the fall of 
 utmost difficulty in the attempt. To Kt>bespierre. 
 go on with the marmitm, forced requisitions, and 
 general distribution of food was impossible ; but 
 how to relax these extreme measures was the 
 question, when the general industry of the coun- 
 try was so grievously reduced, and the usual 
 supplies so much straitened, both by the ab.strac- 
 tion of agricultural labourers, the terror of the 
 requisitions, and the forced sales at a nominal 
 and ruinous price. The first step towards a re- 
 turn to the natural stale was an augmentation of 
 the price fixed as a maximum by two thirds, and 
 a limitation of the right of making forced requi- 
 sitions. But these oppressive exactions were, in 
 fact, abandoned by the reaction in the public 
 feeling and the cessation of terror alter the fall 
 
 * Mi"., ii., 373. Th., vii., 410, 420. Lac, xii., 227. 
 Toul., v., 200, 20L Hist, dc la Conv., iv., 351, 352. 
 
38i2 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX. 
 
 of the dictatorial government. Tlie assignats | duce any impression on such immense posses 
 
 gomg on continually declining, the aversion ol 
 all the industrial classes to the VMximum was 
 constantly increasing, because the losses they 
 sustained through the lorccd sales were thereby 
 daily augmented, and the persons intrusted with 
 the administration of the laws, being of a more 
 moderate and humane cast, were averse to have 
 recourse to the sanguinary measures which were 
 still placed at their disposal. Thus there was 
 everywhere in France a general endeavour to 
 elude the maximum, and the newly-constituted 
 authorities winked at frauds which they felt to 
 be the necessar}' consequence of so unjust a law. 
 No one, during the Reign of Terror, ventured 
 openly to resist regulations which rendered the 
 industrial and commercial classes tributaiy to 
 the soldiers and the multitude ; but when the 
 danger of the guillotine was at an end, the reac- 
 tion against it was irresistible.* 
 
 Many months had not elapsed after the 0th 
 Reaction Theniiidor before the total aboli- 
 
 against the vi- tion of the viaxivium and forced re- 
 oleutmensures quisitions was demanded in the as- 
 
 Ten-or^'^'^ "' '^'^'"^'y- PubHc feeling revolted 
 against their continuance, and they 
 were abolished almost by acclamation. The 
 powers of the Commission of Subsistence and 
 Provisions were greatly circumscribed ; the right 
 of making forced requisitions continued only for 
 a month, and its army of ten thousand employes 
 restricted to a few hundred. At the same time, 
 the free circulation of gold and silver, which had 
 been arrested by the Revolutionary government, 
 was again permitted.t 
 
 The inextricable question of the assignats 
 next occupied the attention of the assembly ; for 
 the suffering produced by their depreciation had 
 become absolutely intolerable to a large portion 
 of the people. Being still a legal tender at par, 
 all those who had money to receive lost eleven 
 twelfths of their property. The salaries of the 
 public functionaries, and the payments to the 
 public creditors, were, to a certain degree, aug- 
 mented, but by no means in proportion to the de- 
 preciation of the paper. But this was a trilling 
 remedy ; the great evil still remained unmitiga- 
 ted in all payments between man and man over 
 the whole countiy.; 
 
 The only way of withdrawing the assignats 
 Inextricable ^^ovo. circulation, and, in conse- 
 difficulty in quence enhancing their value, was 
 contiactmg by the sale of the national domains, 
 the assignats. ^hcn, according to the theoiy of 
 their formation, they should be retired by gov- 
 ernment and destroyed. But how were purchas- 
 ers to be found 1 That was the eternal question 
 which constantly recurred, and never could be 
 answered. The same national convulsion which 
 had confiscated two thirds of the land of France 
 belonging to the emigrants, the clergy, and the 
 crown domains, had destroyed almost all the 
 capital which could be employed in its pur- 
 chase. Sales to any considerable extent were 
 thus totally out of the question, the more espe- 
 cially as the estates thus brought all at once to 
 sale consisted in great part of sumptuous pala- 
 ces, woods, parks, and other domains, in circum- 
 stances, of all others, the worst adapted for a di- 
 vision among the industrial classes. It was not 
 a few capitals of shopkeepers and farmers which 
 had escaped the general wreck, that could pro- 
 
 ' Mig., ii.. 402. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 257, 258. Th., 
 ii., Cfi, 139, 221, 225. t Th., vii., 236, 238. 
 
 t Th.,vii.,240. 
 
 sions. The difficulty, in truth, was inextricable ; 
 no sales to any extent went on ; the assignats 
 were continually increasing vtith the vast expen- 
 diture of government, and at length it was got 
 over, as will appear in the sequel, by forced 
 means, and the proclamation of a national bank- 
 ruptcy of the very worst kind.* 
 
 But the attention of the convention was soon 
 drawn to evils of a still more press- 
 ing kind. The abolition of the raax- ^u^'^.^'^r' 
 imuni and of the Ibrced requisitions from theaboii- 
 had deprived government of its vio- tion of the for- 
 lent means of feeding the citizens, ^^'^ renuisi- 
 while, in consequence of the shock "°"^' 
 which these t3-rannical proceedings had given to 
 industry, the usual sources of supply were almost 
 dried up. The consequence was a most sevej-e 
 scarcity of every kind of provisions, which went 
 on increasing during the whole of the winter of 
 1794-5, and at length, in March, 1795, reached 
 the most alarming height. To the natural evils- 
 of famine were superadded the horrors of a win- 
 ter of uncommon severity, such as had not been 
 experienced in Europe for a hundred years. 
 The roads, covered with ice, were impassable 
 for carriages ; the canals were frozen up ; and 
 the means of subsistence to the metropolis seem- 
 ed to be totally exhausted. In this extremity, 
 every family endeavoured to lay in stores for "a 
 few days, and the ffw convoys which approach- 
 ed Paris were besieged by crowds of famishing 
 citizens, who proceeded twenty and thirty miles 
 to anticipate the ordinary supplies. Nothing re- 
 mained but for government, who still adliered, 
 though with weakened powers, to the system of 
 distributing food to the people, to diminish the 
 rations daily issued out; and on the report of 
 Boissy d'Anglas, the quantity served out from 
 the public magazines was diminished to one 
 half, or a pound of bread a day for each person 
 above the working-classes, and a pound and a 
 half to those actually engaged in labour. At 
 this rate, there was distributed to the 636,000 in- 
 habitants of the capital eighteen hundred and 
 ninety seven sacks of Hour. But small as this 
 quantity was, it was soon found necessary to re- 
 duce it still farther ; and at length, for several 
 weeks, each citizen received only I,il-o Miserable fare- 
 ounces of black and coar.se bread a and sufferings 
 day. Small as this pittance was, it "'' 'li« people, 
 could be obtained only by obtaining tickets from 
 the committees of government, and after waiting 
 at the doors of the bakers from eleven at night 
 till seven in the morning, during the rigour of 
 an arctic winter. The citizens of Paris were 
 for months reduced to the horrors of a besieged 
 town ; numbers perished of famine, and many 
 owed their existence to the kindness of some 
 friend in the country, and the introduction of the 
 potato, t which already began to assuage this 
 artificial, as it has so ollen since done the most 
 severe natural scarcities. 
 
 The abolition of the vuiximu7ri, of the requisi- 
 tions, and of all the forced methods Enormous d»- 
 of procuring supplies, produced, as preciation iu' 
 might have been anticipated, a most tlie value of 
 violent reaction on the price of eve- ^^^ assignats. 
 ry article of consumption, and, by consequence, 
 on the value of the assignats. Foreign commerce 
 having begun to revive with the cessation of the 
 Reign of Terror, sales being no longer forced. 
 
 " Th., vii. ,241,242. 
 t Th., vii., 246, 252. 
 
 Mig., ii., 403. 
 Lac.jXii., 191, 193. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 383 
 
 the assi<j;nat was brought into comparison with 
 tlie currency ol' other countries, and its enormou.< 
 inleriorily precipitated still I'arther its fall. The 
 ra})idity ol'its decline gave lise to numerous sj^ec- 
 iilaiiuns on tlie exchange ol" Paris; and the peo- 
 ple, in the midst of the horrors oi lamine, were 
 exasperated by the sight of fortunes made out of 
 the misery which they endured. Government, to 
 provide lor the necessities of the inhabitants, had 
 no other resource but to increase the issue of as- 
 sifjnats for the jiurchasc of provisions ; three mil- 
 liards more were issued for this necessary pur- 
 pose, anil the consequence was, that the paper 
 money fell almost to nothing. Bread was expo- 
 sed for sale at twenty-two Irancs the pound, and 
 what lormerlycost 100 francs was now raised to 
 AOOO. In the course of the year the depreciation 
 became such, that 28,000 francs in paper were 
 exchanged for a louis d'or, and a dinner for five 
 Pui)lic d(- or six persons cost 60,000 Irancs. A 
 spairmcyn- kind of despair seized every mind at 
 sequence, g^gl, prodigious and apparently inter- 
 minable losses, and it was the force of this feel- 
 ing Avhich produced the great revolts already 
 mentioned, which had so nearly proved fatal to 
 the Thermidorians, and restored the whole forced 
 system of the Reign of Terror.* 
 
 The overthrow of this insurrection led to sev- 
 eral laws which powerfully tended to 
 July n95 dii^^inish the destructive ascendency ol' 
 the people in the government. The 
 National Guards were reorganized on the footing 
 on which they had been before the 10th of Au- 
 gust; the labouring and poorer classes excluded, 
 and the service confined to the more substantial 
 citizens. At Paris this important force was pla- 
 ced under the orders of the Military Committee. 
 The government got quit at the same time of a 
 burdensome and ruinous custom, which the con- 
 vention had borrowed from the Athenian democ- 
 racy, of allowing every indigent citizen fifty sous 
 a day while they were engaged at their respective 
 sections : a direct premium on idleness, and a 
 constant inducement to the turbulent and restless 
 to assemble at these great centres of Democratic 
 power. The churches were restored to the anx- 
 ious wishes of the Catholics, on the condition 
 that they should maintain them themselves; the 
 first symptom of a return to religious feeling in 
 that infidel age.t 
 
 All the evils, the necessary result of an exces- 
 sive and forced paper circulation, went on in- 
 creasing after the government had returned to 
 moderate measures, were installed in power. 
 Subsistence was constantly wanting in the great 
 towns ; the treasury was empty of all but assig- 
 nats; the great bulk of the national domains re- 
 mained umold ; the transactions, debts, and prop- 
 Vain measures crties of individuals were involved 
 of the govorii- in inextricable confusiou. Sensible 
 mentto arrest of the necessity of doing something 
 le evi . ^^^ those who were paid in the gov- 
 
 ernment paper, the Directory adopted a scale by 
 \vhich_ the assignats were taken as worth a fifth 
 of their nominal value; but this was an incon- 
 siderable relief, as they had fallen to a hundred 
 nnd fifUcth part of the sum for which thev had 
 been originally issued. The consequence of this 
 excessive depreciation in a paper which was still 
 a legal lender was, that the whole debts of indi- 
 viduals were extinguished by a pavmenl worth 
 nothing; that the income of the fundholders was 
 
 * Th., vii., 376, SSI. I,!ic., xiii., 40. 
 t Th., VII., 41l>. 420. Lac., xiii., 43. 
 
 annihilated; and the state itself, compelled to re- 
 ceive its own paper in payment of the taxes, found 
 the treasury filled with a mass of steril assig- 
 nats. But tor the half of the land-tax, which was 
 received in kind, the government would have 
 been literally witiiout the means either of feed- 
 ing Paris or the armies.* 
 
 Hitherto the reaction had been in favour oi' 
 constitutional and moderate measures ; but the 
 last great victory over the Jacobins revived the 
 hopes of the Royalists. The emigrants and the 
 clergy had returned in great numbers since the 
 repeal of the severe laws passed against them du- 
 ring the Reign of Terror, and contributed power- 
 fully to incline the public mind to a moderate 
 and constitutional monarchy. The panlier pro"- 
 horror excited by the sanguinary re'ssofhuuiaue 
 proceedings of the Jacobins was so measures, 
 strong and universal, that the reaction naturally 
 was in favour of a Royalist government. The 
 recent successes of the Troupe Doree, who form- 
 ed the flower of the youth of Paris, had awaken- 
 ed in them a strong espirit de corps, and prepa- 
 red the great and inert body of the people to fol- 
 low a banner which had so uniformly led to vic- 
 tory.t 
 
 So strong was the feeling at that period from 
 recent and grievous experience of the dangers of 
 popular tumults, that after the disarming of the 
 fauxbourgs, several sections made a voluntary 
 surrender of their artillery to the government. 
 A large body of troops of the line were brought 
 to Paris, and encamped in the Plain of Sablons; 
 and the galleries of the assembly were closed ex- 
 cept to persons having tickets of admission. The 
 language of the deputations of the sections at the 
 bar of the convention became openly hostile to 
 the dominion of the people, and such as would, 
 a few months earlier, have been a sure passport 
 to the scaffold. " Experience," said the deputies 
 of the section Lepelletier, " has taught us that 
 the despotism of the people is as insupportable 
 as the tyranny of kings." The Rev- And abol.fon 
 olutionary Tribunal, at the same pe- of the Revohi- 
 riod, was abolished by a decree of tionary Tnbu- 
 the convention. A journal of the "^'- J""el7. 
 day observed, " Such was the tranquil and blood- 
 less end of the most atrocious institution, of 
 which, since the Council of Blood established by 
 the Duke of Alva in the Low Countries, the his- 
 tory of tribunals, instruments of injustice, ha.s 
 preserved the remembrance. "i 
 
 During this revolution of public opinion, the 
 convention were engaged in the Formation of 
 formation of a Constitution. It is anewCousti- 
 in the highest degree both curious tution. 
 and instructive to contemplate the altered doc- 
 trines which prevailed after the consequences of 
 popular government had been experienced, and 
 how generally men reverted to those principles 
 which, in the commencement of the Revolution, 
 were stigmatized as slavish and disgraceful. 
 Boissy d'Anglas was chosen to make a report 
 upon the form of the Constitution ; his memoir 
 contains much important truth, which preceding 
 events had forced upon the observation of man- 
 kind. " Hitherto," said he, " the efforts of France 
 have been solely directed to destroy ; at present, 
 when we are neither silenced by the oppre:sion. 
 of tyrants, nor intimidated by the cries of dema- 
 gogues, we must turn to our advantage the crimes 
 
 * Th., viii., 85, 86. Lac, xiii., 32. 
 
 t ms., ii., 28!. Th., viii., 1,9. 
 
 t Toul., v., 263, 270. Th., viii., 20, 21. 
 
384 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX. 
 
 of the monarchy, the errors of the assembly, the 
 horrors of the decemviral lyraiiny, tde calamities 
 of anarchy. Absolute equality is a chimera; 
 virtue, talents, physical or intellectual powers, 
 are not equally distributed by Nature. Property 
 alone attaches the citizen to his country ; all who 
 are to have any share in the legislature should 
 be possessed of some independent income. All 
 Frenchmen are citizens; but the state of domes- 
 tic service, pauperism, or the non-payment of 
 taxes, forbid the great majority from exercising 
 their rights. The executive government requires 
 a central position, a disposable force, a display 
 calculated to strike the vulgar. The people 
 should never be permitted to deliberate indiscrim- 
 inately on public affairs; a populace constantly 
 deliberating rapidly perishes by misery and dis- 
 order; the laws should never be submitted to the 
 consideration of the multitude." Such were the 
 principles ultimately adopted by the Revolution- 
 ary Assembly of France. In a few yeru's, cen- 
 turies of experience had been acquired.* 
 
 If such was the language of the convention, 
 
 ,, , , it may easily be conceived how 
 
 General aban- , ' •' ,• , ^, 
 
 •donmentofDe- Kiuch more powerlul was the reac- 
 Biocratic priii- tiou among the middling classes of 
 ciples from the the people. The National Guard, 
 force of expen- ^^,;^ j^e JeuiKssc Dordc of several 
 sections, were become openly Roy- 
 ■alists; they wore the green and black uniform 
 which distinguished the Chouans of the M^estern 
 provinces ; the Reveil du Peuple was beginning 
 to awaken the dormant, not extinguished, loyal- 
 ty of the French character. The name of Ter- 
 rorist had become the signal for proscriptions as 
 perilous in many places as that oi Aristocrat had 
 formerly been. 
 
 In the south especially, the reaction was terri- 
 ble. Bands, bearing the names of the " Compa- 
 nies of Jesus" and the "Companies of the Sun," 
 traversed the country, executing the most dread- 
 ful reprisals upon the Revolutionary party. At 
 Lyons, Aix, Tarascon, and Marseilles, they 
 massacred the prisonei's without either trial or 
 •discrimination ; the 2d of September was re- 
 newed with all its horrors in most of the prisonS 
 of the south of France. At Lyons, after the first 
 massacre of the Terrorists, they pursued the 
 wretches through the streets, and when any one 
 was seized, he was instantly thro-\vn into the 
 Rhone ; at Tarascon, the captives were cast 
 ■headlong from the top of a lolty rock into that 
 rapid stream. One prison at Lyons was set on 
 Violent re- ^""^ ^^ ^^^ infuriated mob, and the 
 action in unhappy inmates all perished in the 
 the south flames. The people, exasperated Avith 
 
 of France, j^jg jjiog^i ^^,]^jpi^ j^^^l ^^^^ ^-^^^ ^^ ^^^ 
 
 Revolutionar}^ partyi were insatiable in their 
 vengeance; they invoked the name of a parent, 
 brother, or sister when retaliating on their op- 
 pressors; and while committing murder them- 
 selves, exclaimed, with every stroke, '' Die, as- 
 sassins !'' History' must equally condemn such 
 horrors, by whomsoever committed ; but it must 
 reserve its severest censure for those by whom 
 they were first perpetrated. t 
 
 Many innocent persons perished, as in all 
 popular tumults, during those bloody days. The 
 two sons of the Duke of Orleans, the Duke de 
 Montpensier, and the Count Beaujolais, were 
 confined in the fort of St. John at Marseilles, 
 where they had been forgot during the Reign of 
 
 * Tout., v., 272, 273. 
 
 t Lac., xii., 210. Mig-., ii., 382. Freron, 9-32, ' 
 
 Terror. On the Cth of June, a terrible noise 
 round the fort announced the approach of the 
 frantic nmltitude. The cries of the victims in 
 the adjoining cells too soon informed them of 
 the danger which they ran ; Royalists and Jaco- 
 bins were indiscriminately massacred by the 
 bloody assassins. Isnard and Car- Generous con- 
 droi at length put a stop to the mas- auct of the 
 sacres, but not before eighty per- young Duke of 
 sons had been murdered. The for- Or'^^n^' sons. 
 mer, though he strove to moderate the savage 
 measures of the Royalists, increased their fuiy 
 by the fearful energy of his language. '-We 
 want arms," said the young men who were 
 marching against t!ie Jacobins of Toulon. 
 " Take," said he, " the bones of youi" fathers to 
 march against their murderers."* 
 
 The fate of these young princes was in the 
 highest degree interesting. Some months after- 
 ward they Ibrmed a plan of escape ; but the Duke 
 de Montpensier, in descending the wall of the 
 fort, broke his leg, was seized, and reconducted 
 to prison. He consoled himself for his failure 
 by the thoughts that his brother had succeeded, 
 when he beheld him re-enter the ceD, and fall 
 upon his neck. Escaped from danger, and on 
 the point of embarking on board a vessel des- 
 tined for America, he had heard of the misfor- 
 fortune of his brother, and. unable to endure 
 freedom without him, he had returned to prison 
 to share his fate. They were both subsequently 
 liberated, and reached America ; but they soon 
 died, the victim.s of a long and severe captivity 
 of four years. t 
 
 During the predominance of these principles, 
 upward of eighty Jacobins were denounced in 
 the convention, and escaped execution only by 
 secreting themselves in different parts of France. 
 The only secure asylum which they found was 
 in the houses of the Royalists, whom, during the 
 days of their power, they had saved from the 
 scaffold. Not one was betrayed by those to 
 whom they fled. So predominant was the influ- 
 ence of the Girondists, that Louvet obtained a 
 decree, ordering an expiatory fete for the victims 
 of the 31 st of May. None of the Thermidorians 
 ventured to resist the proposal, though many 
 among them had contributed in no inconsidera- 
 ble degree to their fate.: 
 
 About the same time, the infant King of 
 France, Louis XVII., expired. The , g j_gj 
 9th Thennidor came too late to save ' 
 
 the life of this unfortunate prince. His cniel 
 jailer, Simon, was indeed beheaded, and a less 
 cniel tyrant substituted in his place ; but the 
 temper of the times would not at first admit of 
 any decided measures of indulgence in favour of 
 the heir to the throne. The barbarous treatment; 
 he had experienced from Simon peath and last 
 had alienated his reason, but not days of Louis 
 extinguished his feelings of grati- XVIL in pns- 
 tude. On one occasion, that inhu- ""• 
 man wretch had seized him by the hair, and 
 threatened to dash his head against the wall ; the 
 surgeon, Naulin, interfered to prevent him, and 
 the unhappy child next day presented him with 
 two pears, which had been given him for his 
 supper the preceding evening, lamenting, at the 
 same time, that he had no other means of testify- 
 ing his gi-atitude. Simon and Hebert had put 
 him to the torture, to extract from him an avowal 
 of crimes connected with his mother which he 
 was too young to understand; after that cruel 
 
 Lac, xii., 212. t H)., xii., 216. t lb., xii., 231. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 385 
 
 <lay, he almost always preserved silence, lest his 
 words should prove fatal to some of iiis rela- 
 tions. 'I'hij resolution, and the closeness ol his 
 conJinemenI, soon preyed upon his health. In 
 February, 17i)j, he was seized with a levei-, and 
 visited by three members of the C'onimiltee of 
 General Safety : they found him sitting at a ta- 
 ble making castles of card.s. They addressed to 
 liim the words of kindness, but couUl not obtain 
 any answer. In May, the state of his health 
 became so alarming, that the celebrated surgeon 
 Dessault was directed by the convention to visit 
 }um ; his generous attentions assuaged the suf- 
 ferings of his latter days, but could not prolong 
 Ids life.* 
 
 The public sympathy was so strongly excited 
 Liberation of ^Y '•''''^ event, that it induced the as- 
 tlie Ductless sembly to consent to the freedom of 
 d'Angou- the remaining child of Louis XVI. 
 leme. Q^ jl^g l^jl^ of j^ne jhg Duchess 
 
 d'Angoulome was liberated from the Temple, 
 and exchanged for the four commissioners of 
 the convention whom Dumourier had delivered 
 up to the Austrians.t 
 
 The fate of La Fayette, Latour Maubourg, and 
 ContinueJ Other eminent men, who were detained 
 captivity of in the Austrian prisons since their 
 Xa Faycttf . defection Irom the armies of France, 
 at this time excited the most ardent sympathy 
 both in France and England. They had been 
 rigorously guarded since their captivity in the 
 fortress of Olmutz; and the humane in every 
 part of the world beheld with regret men who had 
 voluntarily delivered themselves up to avoid the 
 excesses of a sanguinary faction, treated with 
 more severity than prisoners of war. Mr. Fox 
 in vain endeavoured to induce the British gov- 
 ernment to interl'ere in their behalf: the reply of 
 Mr. Pitt in the House of Commons equalled the 
 speech of his eloquent rival. His wife and 
 daughters, finding all attempts at his deliverance 
 ineffectual, generously resolved to share his cap- 
 fjeiierul in- 'ivity; and they remained in confine- 
 terestinliis mcnt M'ith him at Olmutz till the vic- 
 behalf. tories of Napoleon in 1790 compelled 
 the Austrian government to consent to their lib- 
 eration. His confinement, however tedious, was 
 f)robably the means of saving his life; it is hard- 
 y possible that in France he could have survived 
 the Reign of Terror, or escaped the multitude to 
 "which he had long been the object of execration. i 
 Meanwhile, the convention proceeded rapidly 
 Completion with the formation of the new Con- 
 of the new stitution. This was the third which 
 Constitution, had been imposed upon the French 
 people during the space of a few years : a suffi- 
 cient proof of the danger of incautiously over- 
 turning long-established institutions. The Con- 
 stitution of 179.5 was very different from those 
 "which had preceded it, and gave striking proof of 
 the altered condition of the public mind on the 
 state of political affairs. Experience had now 
 taught all classes that the chimera of perfect 
 equality could not be attained; that the mass of 
 the people are unfit for the exercise of political 
 rights; that the contests of factions terminate, if 
 the people are victorious, in the supremacy of the 
 most depraved. The constitution which was 
 framed under the influence of these sentiments 
 differed widely from the Democratic institu- 
 tions of 179.3. The ruinous error was now 
 acknowledged of uniting the whole legislative 
 
 * Lac, xii. S^O. 374. 
 t Lac, X.. 38fi. 3S7. 
 
 Vol. I.— C c c 
 
 t Lac, xii., 333. 
 
 powers in one as.sembly, and enacting the most 
 important laws without the intervention of any 
 time to deliberate on their tendency, or recover 
 from the excitement under whicti tliey may have 
 originated. The legislative power, therefore, 
 was divided into two councils, that of the i-Vye 
 Hundred, and that of the Ancients. The C'ouncil 
 of Five Hundred was intrusted with the sole 
 power of originating laws; that of the Ancients 
 with the power of passing or rejecting them ; 
 and to ensure the prudent discharge of tiiis duty, 
 no person could be a member of it till he had 
 reached the age of forty years. No bill could 
 pass till after it had been tlu"ee times read, with 
 an interval between each reading of at least five 
 days.* 
 
 The executive power, instead of being vested, 
 as heretofore, in two committees, was The consti- 
 lodged in the hands of five directors, tutionoftho 
 nominated by the Council of Five l>irectory. 
 Hundred, approved by that of the Ancients. 
 They were liable to be impeached lor their mis- 
 conduct by the councils. Each individual was, 
 by rotation, to be president during three months ; 
 and every year a fifth new director was to be 
 chosen, in lieu of one who was bound to retire. 
 The Directory thus constituted ha<l the entire 
 disposal of the army and finances, the appoint- 
 ment of all public functionaries, and the manage- 
 ment of all public negotiations. They were 
 lodged, during the period of their official duty, in 
 the Palace of the Luxemboitrg, and attended by 
 a guard of honour."!" 
 
 The privilege of electing members for the legis- 
 lature was taken away from the great Elective fian- 
 body of the people, and confined to chise confined 
 the colleges of delegates. Their to propnctors. 
 meetings were called the Prinuiry Assemblies; 
 and in order to ensure the influence of the mid- 
 dling ranks, the persons elected by the primary 
 assemblies were themselves the electors of the 
 members of the legislature. All popular socie- 
 ties were interdicted, and the press declared ab- 
 solutely free. I 
 
 It is of importance to recollect that this Con- 
 stitution, so cautiously framed to exclude the 
 direct influence of the people, and curb the ex- 
 cesses of popular licentiousness, "was the volun- 
 tary work of the very convention which had 
 come into power under the Deinocratic Constitu- 
 tion of 1793, and immediately after the 10th of 
 August ; which had voted the death of the king, 
 the imprisonment of the Girondists, and the exe- 
 cution of Danton ; which had supported the 
 bloody cxces.ses of the decemvirs, and survived 
 the horrors of the reign of Robespierre. Let it 
 no longer be said, therefore, that the evils of 
 popular rule are imaginary dangers, contradicted 
 by the experience of mankind ; the checks thus 
 imposed upon the power of the people were the 
 work of their own delegates, chosen by universal 
 suffrage during a period of unexampled public 
 excitation, whose proceedings had been marked 
 by a more violent love of freedom than any that 
 ever existed from the beginning of the world. 
 Nothing can speak so strongly in favour of the 
 necessity of controlling the people, as the work 
 of the representatives whom the}' had themselves 
 chosen to confirm their power. 
 
 The formation of this Constitution, and its 
 discussion in the assemblies of the people, to 
 which it was submitted for consideration, excited 
 
 * Mi<'., ii., SS'>. Tout., v., 404. Tli., tiii., 13. 
 
 t Ml-., ii., 386, 387. Tou!., v., 39'J. Th., viii., 13, 14. 
 
 t Mis., ii., 3S5. Th., viii., 14, 15. 
 
386 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX. 
 
 ^ ^ .. the most violent affitation through- 
 Groat agita- ^ „ T-> -^ 1.1 
 tion iu I'uris o\it France. Pans, as usual, tuok 
 and through- the leail. Its lorty-eighl sections 
 out Franca ai -^yej-;. incessantly assembled, and tlie 
 these chuaigcs. ^^^^^^^ eHervcscence resembled that 
 of 1789. This was brought to its height by a de- 
 cree of the assembly, declaring that Ituo thirds of 
 the present convention should fona a part of the 
 new legislature, and that the electors sliould only 
 fill up the remaining part. 'I'he citizens beheld 
 ■with horror so large a proportion of a body, 
 ■whose proceedings had deluged France with 
 blood, still destined to reign over them. To ac- 
 cept the Constitution and reject this decree 
 seemed the only way of getting free from their 
 domination. The Thermidorian party had been 
 entirely excluded from the committee oi Eleven, 
 to whom the formation of the new Constitution 
 was intrusted, and, in revenge, they joined the 
 assemblies of those who sought to counteract 
 their ambition. The focus of the effervescence 
 •was the section Lepelletier, formerly known by 
 the name of that of the Fillcs de St. Thomas, the 
 richest and rao.st powerful in Paris, which, 
 through all the changes of the Revolution, had 
 steadily adhered to Royalist principles.* 
 
 The Royalist committees of Paris, of which 
 Coalition of Le Maitre was the known agent. 
 Royalists with finding matters brought to this cri- 
 sectionsof Na- sis. Coalesced with the journals and 
 tional Guard, the leaders of the sections. They 
 openly accused the convention of attempting to 
 perpetuate their power, and of aiming at usurp- 
 ing the sovereignty of the people. The orators 
 of the sections said at the bar of the assembly, 
 " Deserve our choice — do not seek to command 
 it ; you have exercised an authority without 
 bounds; you have united in yourselves all the 
 powers, those of making laws, of revising them, 
 of changing them, of executing them. Recollect 
 how fatal military despotism was to the Roman 
 Republic." The press of Paris teemed with 
 pamphlets inveighing against the ambitious 
 views of the legislature, and the eflbrts of the 
 sections were incessant to defeat their projects. 
 The agitation of 1789 was renewed, but it was 
 all now on the other side; the object now was, 
 not to restrain the tyranny of the court, but re- 
 press the ambition of the delegates of the people.t 
 
 " Will the convention," said the Royalist ora- 
 Vehemp.nt '^^^i " never be satisfied 1 'is a reign 
 Royalist dec- of three years, fraught with more 
 tarnations at crimes than the whole annals of 
 the se.aious. twenty other nations, not suflicient 
 for those who rose into power under the auspices 
 of the lOth of August and the 2d of September ] 
 Is that power fit to repose under the shadow of 
 the laws which has only lived in tempests 1 Let 
 tis not be deceived by the 9th Thermidor; the 
 Bay of Q-uiberon, where Tallien bore so con- 
 spicuous a part, may show us that the thirst for 
 blood is not extinguished even among those vv"ho 
 overtlirew Robespierre. The convention has 
 done nothing but destroy ; shall we now intrust 
 it vv-ith the woi'k of conservation 1 What reli- 
 ance can be placed on the monstrous coalition 
 betv/een the proscribers and the proscribed ? Ir- 
 reconcilable enemies to each other, they have 
 only entered into this semblance of alliance in 
 order to resist those who hate them — that is ev- 
 eiy man in France. It is we ourselves who have 
 
 * Tout., v., 327, vi28, 330. Th., ml, 16-19. Mig., ii., 3S8, 
 389. Lac., xii., 402,403. 
 
 t La*;., xii., 404. Toul., v., 331, 333. Th., viii., 20, 22, 
 23. Miff., II., 3S9. 
 
 forced upon them those acts of tardy humanity, 
 on which they now rely as a veil to their mon- 
 strous proceedings. But for our warm repre- 
 sentations, the members hors La loi would still 
 have been wandering in exile, the seventy-three 
 deputies still languishing in prison. Who but; 
 ourselves formed the faithful guard who saved 
 them from the terrible fauxliourgs, to whom they 
 had basely yielded their best members on the 
 Jilst of May '] They now call upon us to select 
 among its ranks those who should continue mem- 
 bers, and form the two thirds of the new assem- 
 bly. Can two thirds of the convention be Ibund, 
 who are not stained with blood 1 Can we ever 
 forget that many of its basest acts passed unani~ 
 Tiwusly, and that a majority of three hundred and 
 sixty-one pas.sed a vote which will be an eternal 
 subject of mourning to France 1 Shall we admit 
 a majority of regicides into the new assembly, 
 intrust our liberty to cowards, our fortunes to the 
 authors of so many acts of rapine, our lives to 
 murderers 1 The convention is only strong be- 
 cause it mixes up its crimes with the glories of 
 our armies ; let us sepai'ate them ; let us leave 
 the convention its sins, and our soldiers their 
 triumphs, and the world will speedily do justice 
 to both."* 
 
 Such discourses, incessantly repeated from the 
 tribunes of forty-eight sections, vio- 
 lently shook the public mind in the Extreme agita- 
 
 ■ : ^ ,r, ■ ^ ^ ,1. .^ tioii at raris. 
 
 capital. To give greater publicity 
 
 to their sentiments, the orators repeated the same 
 sentiments in addresses at the bar of the assem- 
 bly, which were immediately circulated with ra- 
 pidity through the departments. The efl'erves- 
 cence in the south was at its height ; many im- 
 portant cities and departments seemed already 
 disposed to imitate the sections of the metropolis. 
 The cities of Dreus and Chartres warmly second- 
 ed their wishes ; the sections of Orleans sent the 
 Ibllowing message : " Primary assemblies of 
 Paris, Orleans is at your side, it advances on 
 the same line ; let your cry be resistance to op- 
 pression, hatred to usurpers, and we will second 
 you."t 
 
 The National Guard of Paris shared in the 
 general excitation. The troops of the Jcuncsse 
 Doric had inspired its members with part of their 
 own exultation of feeling, and diminished much 
 of their wonted timidity. Resistance to the tyrant 
 was openlj' spoken of; the convention compared 
 to the Long Parliament, which shed the blood of 
 Charles I. ; and the assistance of a Monk ardent- 
 ly looked for to consummate the Avork of restora- 
 tion.! 
 
 Surrounded by so many dangers, the conven- 
 tion did not abate of its former ener- convention 
 gy. They had lost the Jacobins by throw Uiem- 
 their proscriptions, the Royalists by selves on the 
 their ambition. What remained 1 army. 
 The army; and this terrible engine they resolved 
 to employ, as the only means of establishing their 
 power. They lost no time in submitting the- 
 Constitution to the soldiers, and by them it was 
 unanimously adopted. Military men, accustom- 
 ed to obey, and to take the lead from others, usual- 
 ly, except in periods of uncommon excitement, 
 adopt any constitution which is recommended to 
 them by their officers. A body of five thousand 
 regular troops were assembled in the neighbour- 
 hood of Paris, and their adhesion eagerl)' an- 
 nounced to the citizens. The convention called 
 
 * Lar,., xii., 406, 409. t Lac, xii., 44. 
 
 t Lac., xii., 414. Th., viii., 22, 23. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 387 
 
 to their support the Pi-nstorian Guards; they lit- 
 tle thought how sooa they were to receive from 
 them a master.* 
 
 It soon appeared that not only the armies, hut 
 Sectionsopen- a large majority of the departments 
 ly resolve to had accepted tlie Con.stitution. 1 he 
 revolt. inhabitants of Paris, however, ac- 
 
 customed to take the lead in all public measures, 
 were not discouraged; the section Lcpelletier 
 unanimously passed a resolution, " 'I'hat the 
 powers of every constituted authority ceased in 
 presence of the assembled people; and a provis- 
 ional government, under the name of a Central 
 Committee, was established under the auspices 
 of its leaders. A majority of the sections adopt- 
 ed their resolution, which was immediately an- 
 nulled by the convention, and their decree was, 
 in its turn, reversed by the assemblies ol the 
 electors. The contest now became open be- 
 tween the sections and the legislature; the form- 
 er separated the Constitution from the decrees, 
 ordaining the re-election of two thirds of the okl 
 assembly ; they accepted the former, and reject- 
 ed the latter.t 
 
 On the 3d of October (11th Vendemiaire) it 
 Meetino-of ' ^^s resolved by the sections, that the 
 the electors electors chosen by the people should 
 atihcThua- be assembled at the Theatre Fran- 
 treFran^ais. ^g^jg^ under protection of the National 
 Guard ; and on the 3d they were conducted there 
 by an anned force of chasseurs and grenadiers. 
 The dangers of an insurrection against a govern- 
 ment having at its command the military force 
 of France, was apparent ; but the enthusiasm- of 
 the moment overbalanced all other considera- 
 tions. On the one side it was urged, "Are we 
 about to consecrate, by our example, that odious 
 principle of insurrections which so many bloody 
 days have rendered odious 1 Our enemies alone 
 are skilled in revolt; the art of exciting them is 
 tmknowTi to us. The multitude is indifferent to 
 our cause; deprived of their aid, how can we 
 face the government 1 If they join our ranks, 
 how shall we restrain their sanguinary excess- 
 es 1 Should we prove victorious, what dynasty 
 shall we establish'] what chiefs can we present 
 to the armies 1 Is there not too much reason to 
 fear that success would only revive divisions, 
 now happily forgotten, and give our enemies the 
 means of profiting by our discord 1" But to this 
 it was replied, "Honour forbids us to recede; 
 duty calls upon us to restore freedom to our coun- 
 tr}', his throne to our monarch. We may now, 
 by seizing the decisive moment, accomplish that 
 which former patriots sought in vain to achieve. 
 The 9th Thermidor only destroyed a tyrant ; 
 now tyranny itself is to be overthrown. If our 
 names are now obscure, they will no longer re- 
 main so; we shall acquire a glory, of which even 
 the brave Vendeans shall be envious. Let us 
 dare : that is the watchword in Revolutions ; 
 may it for once be employed on the side of order 
 and freedom. The convention will never for- 
 give our outrages; the revolutionary tyranny, 
 curbed for more than a year by our exertions, 
 will ri.se up with renewed vigour for our destruc- 
 tion, if we do not anticipate its vengeance by de- 
 livering ourselves." Moved by these considera- 
 tions, the sections tmanimously resolved upon 
 resistance.: 
 
 The National Guard amounted to above thir- 
 
 * Lac, xii., 414, 415. Th., viii., 35, 38. U\g., li., 390. 
 t Mi?., ii , ZOO. 391. Lac. xii., 415, Th., vm., 2G, 29, 
 30. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 36S, 3C9 
 i Lac., xii., 391, 415, 416. 
 
 ty thousand men, but it v.'a.s totally 
 destitute of artillery ; the sections They resolve 
 having, in the belief that they were '" ° 
 no farliier required, delivered up the pieces with 
 which they had been furnished in 17b9, upt n the 
 final disarming of the insurgent fauxbturgs. 
 Their want was now severely felt, as the con- 
 vention had fifty pieces at their command, whose 
 terrible etucacy had been abundantly proved on 
 the 10th of August; and the cannoniers who 
 were to serve them were the same who had bro- 
 ken the lines of Prince Cobourg. The National 
 Guard hoped, by a rapid advance, to capture this 
 forijgidable train of artillery, and then the victory 
 was secure.* 
 
 The leaders of the convention, on their side, 
 were not idle. In the evening of the Measures of 
 3d of October (lllh Vendemiaire) the convention, 
 a decree was passed, ordering the 
 immediate dissolution of the electoral bodies in 
 Paris, and imbodying into a regiment ^^.^ ^ 1795 
 fifteen hundred of the Jacobins, many ■ > ' ■ 
 of whom were liberated from tiie prisons for that 
 especial purpose. These measures brought; 
 matters to a crisis between the sections and the 
 government. This decree was openly resisted, 
 and the National Guard having a.ssembled in 
 force to protect the electors at the Theatre Fran- 
 gais, the convention ordered the military to dis- 
 possess them. General Menou was appointed 
 commander of the armed force, and he advanced 
 with the troops of the line to surround the Con- 
 vent des Filles de St. Thomas, the centre of the 
 insurrection, where the section Lepelletier was 
 assembled.t 
 
 Menou, however, had not the decision requi- . 
 site for success in civil contests. In- y^ilure of 
 stead of attacking the insurgents, he Menou 
 entered into a negotiation with them, against the 
 and retired in the evening without hav- lusurgents. 
 ing efiected anything. His failure gave all the 
 advantages of a victory to the sections, and the 
 National Guard nmstered in greater strength 
 than ever, and resolved to attack the convention 
 at its place of assembly on the following day. 
 Informed of this failure, and the dangerous fer- 
 mentation which it had produced at ^^med force 
 Paris, the convention, at eleven at oftheconven- 
 night, dismissed General Menou, tion intrusted 
 and gave the command of the armed !;" Carfa" and 
 force, with unlimited powers, to ^ ^^° ^°°" 
 General Barras. He immediately demanded 
 the assistance, as second in command, of a 
 young ofiicer of artillery who had distinguished 
 himself at the siege of Toulon and the war in 
 the Maritime Alps, Napoleon Bonaparte.t 
 
 This young ofiicer was immediately intro- 
 duced to the committee. His manner jjj^ decisive 
 was timid and embarrassed; the ca- measures in 
 reer of public lile was as yet new, seizing the , 
 but his clear and distinct opinions, artillery, 
 the energy- and force of his language, already in- 
 dicated the powers of his mind. By his advice 
 the powerful train of artillery in the plains of 
 vSablons, consisting of fifty pieces, was immedi- 
 ately brought by a lieutenant, afterward well 
 knoum in military annals, named Murat, to the 
 capital, and disposed in such a position as to 
 command all the avenues to the convention. 
 Early on the following morning the neighbour- 
 hood of the Tuileries resembled a great intrench- 
 ed camn. The line of defence extended from 
 
 * Lnc, xii., 419. 
 
 t Mig., 11., 391. Lac, xii., 421. Th., viii., 35, 36. 
 
 I Mig., 11., 392. Lac, xii., 421,434. Th., viii., 37-39. 
 
388 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XIX. 
 
 the Pont Neuf along the quays of the river to the 
 Pont Louis XV. ; the Place de Carrousel and 
 the Louvre were lilled with camion, and the en- 
 trance of all the streets which open into the Rue 
 St. Honore were strongly guarded. In this po- 
 sition the commanders of llie convention awaited 
 the attack of the insurgents. Napoleon was in- 
 defatigable in his exertions to insjiire the troops 
 with contidence : he visited every post, inspected 
 every battery, and spoke to the men with that 
 decision and confidence wliich is so often the 
 prelude to victory.* 
 
 The action was soon commenced ; above thir- 
 Comijat. 0' tliousand men, under Generals Dani- 
 roumlihc can and Duhoux, surrounded the little 
 Tuilents. aniiy of six thousand, who, with this 
 powerful artillery, defended the seat of the legis- 
 lature. The firing began in the Rue St. Honore 
 at half past four; the grenadiers placed on the 
 Church of St. Roche opened a fire of musketry 
 on the cannoniers of the convention, who replied 
 by a discharge of grapeshot, which swept de- 
 struction through the serried ranks of the Nation- 
 al Guard which occupied the Rue St. Honore. 
 Though the insurgents fought with the most de- 
 termined bravery, and the fire from the Church 
 of St. Roche was well sustained, nothing could 
 resist the murderous grapeshot of the regular 
 soldiers. Many of the cannoniers fell at their 
 guns, but the fire of their pieces was not dimin- 
 ished. In a few minutes the Rue St. 
 ■"^'''^^onsT^ ''^^ Honore was deserted, and the flying 
 sec lunt,. columns carried confusion into the 
 
 ranks of the reserve, who were formed near the 
 Church of the Filles de St. Thomas. General 
 Danican galloped ofl^ at the first discharge, and 
 never appeared again during the day. Mean- 
 while, the Pont Neuf was carried by the insur- 
 gents, and a new column, ten thou.sand strong, 
 advanced along the opposite quay to the Tuiler- 
 ies to attack the Pont Royal ; Napoleon allowed 
 them to advance within twenty yards of his bat- 
 teries, and then opened his fire; the insurgents 
 stood three discharges without flinching; but not 
 having resolution enough to rush upon the can- 
 non, they were ultimately diiven back in disor- 
 der, and by seven o'clock the victory of the con- 
 vention was complete at all points. At nine, 
 the troops of the line carried the posts of the Na- 
 tional Guard in the Palais Royal, and on the 
 following morning the section Lepelletier was 
 disarmed, and the insurgents everywhere sub- 
 mitted.t 
 
 Such was the result of the last insurrection 
 E Wish °^ ^^^^ people in the French Revolu- 
 me^t ofmil. ^ion ; all the subsequent changes were 
 itarydes- elfected by the government or the ar- 
 potisin. mies without their interference. The 
 insurgents were not the rabble or the assassins 
 who had so long stained its history with blood ; 
 they were the ilower of the citizens of Paris, 
 comprising all that the Revolution had left that 
 was generous, or elevated, or noble in the capi- 
 tal. They were overthrown, not by the superior 
 numbers or courage of their adversaries, but by 
 the terrible effect of their artillery, by tlie power 
 of military discipline, and the genius of that 
 youthful conqueror, before whom all the amiies 
 of Europe were destined to fall. The moral 
 strength of the nation was all on their side ; but 
 in revolutions, it i^ seldom that moral strength 
 
 * Mig.. ii., 393. Nap., ii., 267, and iii., 70, 74. Th., viii., 
 40, 41, 42. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 383. 
 
 + Mi-., ii., 394 395. Lac, xii.. 4-ifi, 441. Th., viii., 42, 
 
 proves ultimately victorious ; and the examples 
 of Cccsar and Cromwell are not required to show 
 that tiie natural termination of civil strife is mil- 
 itary despotism. 
 
 'I'he convention made a generous use of their 
 victory. The Girondists, who exer- Uun^a^jj 
 cised an almost unlimited sway over of the con- 
 its members, put in practice those vention after 
 maxims of clemency which they had then- victory, 
 so often recommended to others ; the officers 
 who had gained the victory felt a strong repug- 
 nance to their laurels being stained with the 
 blood of their fellow-citizens. Few executions 
 followed this decisive victory: M. Lafont, one 
 of the military chiefs of the revolt, obstinately 
 resisting the means of evasion which were sug- 
 gested to him by the court, was alone condemn- 
 ed, and died with a firmness worthy of the cause 
 for which he suffered. Most of the accused per- 
 sons were allowed time to escape, and sentence 
 of outlawry merely recorded against them ; many 
 returned shortly after to Paris, and resumed their 
 place in public aflairs. The clemency of Napo- 
 leon was early conspicuous: his counsels, after 
 the victory, were all on the side of mercy, and 
 his intercession saved General Menou from a 
 military commission.* 
 
 In the formation of the councils of Five Hun- 
 dred and of the Ancients, the con- Election of the 
 vention made no attempt to con- council of An- 
 strain the public wi-shes. The third cientsandFive 
 of the legislature who had been Hundred, 
 newly elected were almost all on the side of the 
 insurgents, and even contained several Royal- 
 ists ; and a proposal was, in consequence, made 
 by Tallien, that the election of that third should 
 be annulled, and another appeal made to the peo- 
 ple. Thibaudeau, with equal firmness and elo- 
 quence, resisted the propo.sal, which was rejected 
 by the assembly. They merely took the precau- 
 tion, to prevent a return lo royalty, to name for 
 the directors Ave persons who had voted lor the 
 death of the king, Lareveillere, Rewbell, Letour- 
 neur, Barras, and Carnot. Having thus settled 
 the new' government, they published a general 
 amnesty, changed the name of the Place de la 
 Revolution into that of Place de la Concorde, 
 and declared their sittings terminated. The last 
 days of an assembly stained with so much blood, 
 were gilded by an act of clemency of which 
 Thibaudeau justly said the annals of kings fur- 
 nished few examples.t 
 
 The convention sat for more than three years, 
 from the 2lst of September, 1791, to Reflections on 
 the 26th of October, 1795. During the history of 
 that long and terrible period, its pre- the convention, 
 cincts were rather the field on which faction 
 strove for ascendency, than the theatre on which 
 legislative Avisdom exerted its influence. All 
 the parties wliich divided France there endeav- 
 oured to establish their power, and all perished 
 in the attempt. The Girondists attempted it, and 
 perished ; the Mountain attempted it, and per- 
 ished ; the municipality attempted it, and perish- 
 ed ; Robespierre attempted it, and perished; the 
 Royalists attempted it, and perished. In revolu- 
 tions, it is easy to destroy: the difficulty is to 
 establish and secure. All the experience of 
 years of suffering, fraught with centuries of in- 
 struction; all the wisdom of age, all the talent 
 
 * Th., viii., 60. Lac, xii., 441. Mig., ji., 395. Hist, do 
 la Conv., iv., 387.390. 
 
 t Mi!?., ii., .^06. Lac, xii., 444. Thib., ii., 12, 13. Th., 
 
 50. Tout., v., 3t)6, 368. Nap., i., 70, 78. Bour., i., 'JO, 96. riii., C5, 67. Hist, de la Conv., iv., 389, 
 
1795] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 389 
 
 of youth, were unable to form one stal)le govern- 
 ment. A few years, otlen a lew months, were 
 sufficient to overturn the most apparently stable 
 institutions. A fabric seemingly framed for 
 eternal duration, disappeared almost before its 
 authors had consummated their work. The 
 gales of popular favour, ever fickle and change- 
 able, deserted each successive faction as they 
 rose into power; and the ardent part of the na- 
 tion, impatient of control, deemed any approach 
 to regular government insupportable tyranny.* 
 The lower classes, totally incapable of rational 
 thought, gave their support to the diflerent par- 
 ties only as long as they continued to inveigh 
 against their superiors; when they became those 
 superiors themselves, they passed over to their 
 enemies. 
 
 Human institutions are not like the palace of 
 Slow growth ^'^® architect, framed according to fix- 
 of all durable ed rules. Capable of erection in any 
 Imiiian lusti- situation, and certain in the effect to 
 tutions. |jg produced. They resemble rather 
 
 the trees of the forest, slow of growth, tardy of 
 development, readily susceptible of destraction. 
 An instant will destroy what it has taken centuries 
 to produce ; centuries must again elapse before 
 in the same situation a similar production can be 
 formed. Transplantation, difficult in the vege- 
 table, is impossible in the moral world ; the seed- 
 ling must be nourished in the soil, inured to the 
 climate, hardened by the winds. Many exam- 
 ples are to be found of institutions being sudden- 
 ly imposed upon a people ; none of those so form- 
 ed having any duration. To be adapted to their 
 character and habits, they must have grown with 
 their growth, and strengthened with their strength. 
 
 The progress of improvement is irresistible. 
 Feudal tyranny must give way in an age of in- 
 creasing opulence, and the human mind cannot 
 be forever enchained by the fetters of supersti- 
 tion. No elforts of power could have ■prevented 
 a change in the government of France ; but they 
 might have altered its character and spared its 
 horrors. Nature has ordained that mankind 
 should, when they are fit for it, be free, but she 
 has not ordained that they should reach this free- 
 dom steeped in blood. Although, therefore, the 
 overthrow of the despotic government and mod- 
 ification of the power of the privileged orders of 
 France was inevitable, yet the dreadful atroci- 
 ties with which their fall was attended might 
 have been averted by huinan wisdom. The life 
 of the monarch might have been saved ; the Con- 
 stitution might have been modified, without be- 
 ing subverted ; the aristocracy purified without 
 being destroyed. 
 
 Timely concession from the crown is the first 
 Reflections on circumstance which perhaps niight 
 the history of have altered the character of the 
 the Revolution, French Revolution. Had Louis, 
 and the causes jq fj^g commencement of the troub- 
 ot it.s disasters, i • i i j .1. » 1 
 
 les, yielded the great and reasona- 
 ble demands of the people ; had he granted them 
 equality of taxation, the power of voting subsi- 
 dies, freedom from arrest, and periodical Parlia- 
 ments, the agitation of the moment might have 
 been allayed, and an immediate collision between 
 the throne and the people prevented. At a sub- 
 sequent period, indeed, increasing demands, and 
 the want of more extended privileges, might have 
 arisen ; but these discontents, being turned into 
 a regular and legal channel, would probably have 
 Ibund vent without destroying the state. "When 
 
 * Mig., ii., 397. 
 
 the floods are out, safety is to be found only in 
 providing early and effectual means lor letting 
 off the superfluous waters, and, at the same time, 
 strengthening the barriers against their farther 
 encroachment. 
 
 But, although the gradual concession of pow- 
 er, and the redress of all real grievances before 
 the Revolution would have been not less politic 
 than just, nothing can be clearer than that the 
 sudden and vast accession of importance confer- 
 red by M. Neckar on the Tiers Etat, by the du- 
 plication of their numbers, was to the last degree 
 prejudicial, and was, in fact, the immediate 
 cause of the Revolution. Such a sudden addi- 
 tion, like the instantaneous emancipation of 
 slaves, cannot but prove destructive, not only to 
 the higher classes, but the lower. The powers 
 of freedom can only be borne by those who have 
 gradually become habituated to them ; those who 
 acquire them suddenly, by their intemperate use 
 speedily fall under a worse despotism than that 
 from which they revolted. By the consequences 
 of this sudden and uncalled-for innovation, the 
 Commons of France threw off' the beneficent 
 reign of a reforming monarch : thev fell under the 
 iron grasp of the Committee of Public Safety, 
 were constrained to tremble under the bloody- 
 sway of Robespierre, and fawn upon the military- 
 sceptre of Napoleon. 
 
 No lesson is more strongly impressed upon the 
 mind by the progress of the French Revolution 
 than the disastrous consequences which follow- 
 ed the desertion of their country by the higher 
 orders, and the wonderful effects which niight 
 have resulted from a determined resistance oa 
 their part to the first actual outrages by the peo- 
 ple. Nearly a hundred thousand emigrants base- 
 ly fled from their countr}', at a time when a few- 
 hundred resolute men might have saved the mon- 
 archy from destruction. La Fayette, with a few- 
 battalions of the National Guard, vanquished the 
 Jacobins in the Champs de Mars : had he march- 
 ed against their club, and been vigorously sup- 
 ported, the Reign of Terror would have beea 
 prevented. Five hundred horse would have en- 
 abled the Swiss Guard to have saved the throne 
 on the 10th of August, and subdue an insurrec- 
 tion which deluged the kingdom with blood. 
 Three thousand of the troops of the sections over- 
 threw Robespierre at the zenith of his power; a 
 body of undisciplined young men chased the Jac- 
 obins from the .streets, and rooted out their dea 
 of wickedness; Napoleon, with five thousand reg- 
 ular soldiers, vanquished the National Guard of 
 Paris, and crushed an insurrection headed by the 
 whole moral strength of France. These exam- 
 ples may convince us what can be accomplished 
 by a small body of resolute men in civil convul- 
 sions ; their physical power is almost irresistible ; 
 their moral influence commands success. One 
 tenth part of the emigrants who fled from France, 
 if properly headed and disciplined, would have 
 been sufficient to have curbed the fury of the 
 populace, crushed the ambition of the reckless, 
 and prevented the Reign of Terror.* 
 
 No doubt can now exist that the interference 
 of the allies augmented the horrors, and added to 
 the duration of the Revolution. All its blood- 
 iest excesses were committed during or after an 
 alarming, but unsuccessful invasion by 'the al- 
 lied forces. The massacres of September 2d 
 were perpetrated when the public mind was ex- 
 cited to the highest degree by the near approach 
 
 * Burke, vi., 237. 
 
390 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE 
 
 [Chap. XIX. 
 
 of the Duke of Brunswick ; and the worst days 
 of the gov-ernment of Robespierre were immedi- 
 ately alter the defection of Diimourier and the 
 battle of Nerwinde threatened the rule of llie Jac- 
 obins with destruction. Nothing but a sense of 
 public danger could have united the factions who 
 then strove with so much exasperation against 
 eacti other; the peril of France alone could liave 
 induced the people to submit to the sanguinarj' 
 rule which so long desolated its plains. The 
 Jacobins maintained their ascendency by con- 
 stantly representing their cause as that of na- 
 tional independence, by stigmatizing their ene- 
 mies as the enemies of the country; and the pa- 
 triots wept and suffered in silence, lest by resist- 
 ance they should weaken the state, and erase 
 France from the book of nations. 
 
 In combating a revolution, one of two courses 
 mu.st be followed ; either to advance vvuth vig- 
 our, and crush the hydra in its cradle, or to 
 leave the factions to contend with each other, 
 and trust fur safety to the reaction which crime 
 and sufiering necessarily ])roduce. The sup- 
 pression of the Spanish Revolution by the Duke 
 d'Angouleme in 18"23, is an example of the suc- 
 cess of the first system : the bloodless restora- 
 tion of the English monarchs in 1660, a proof 
 of the wisdom of the second. To adv^ance with 
 menaces arid recoil with shame ; to awaken re- 
 sistance and not extinguish opposition ; to threat- 
 en and not execute, is the most ruinous course 
 that can possibly be adopted. It is to unite fac- 
 tion by community of danger ; to convert revo- 
 lutionary-energy into military power; to strength- 
 en the hands of crime, by giving it the support 
 of virtue. Ignorance of the new element which 
 was acting in human affairs may extenuate the 
 fatal error committed by the European powers 
 in the first years of the Revolutionaiy war ; no 
 excuse will hereafter remain for a repetition of 
 the mistake. 
 
 But it is not with impunity that such sins as 
 disgraced the Revolution can be committed by 
 any people. The actors in the bloody tragedy 
 almost all destroyed each other ; their crimes 
 led to their natural and condign punishment, in 
 rendering them the first victims of the passions 
 which they had imchained. But a signal and 
 awful retribution was also due to the nation 
 which had sulfered these iniquities, which had 
 permitted such torrents of innocent blood to flow, 
 and spread the bitterness of domestic suflering 
 to such an unparalleled extent throughout the 
 land. These crimes were registered in the book 
 of fate ; the anguish they had brought on others 
 was speedily felt by themselves ; the tears they 
 had caused to floAV were washed out in the tor- 
 rents which fell from guilty eyes.* France was 
 decimated for her cruelty- ; for twenty years the 
 flower of her youth was marched away by a re- 
 
 * " There is in the misfortunes of France enough," says 
 Savarr, " to maie her sons shed tears of blood." — Savarv-, 
 IT., 382. 
 
 lentless power to the harvest of death ; the snows 
 of Russia revenged the guillotine of Paris. Al- 
 lured by the phantom of military glory, they fell 
 down and worshipped the power which was 
 consuming them ; they followed it to the verge 
 of destruction, till the mask of the spectre fell, 
 and the ghastly features of death appeared. 
 
 This dreadful punishment also was the im- 
 mediate eflect of the atrocities which it chastised. 
 In the absence of all the enjoyments of domes- 
 tic life, in the destniction of ever>' pacific em- 
 ployment, one only career, that of violence, re- 
 mained. From necessity as well as inclination, 
 everj' man took to arms ; the sufferings of the 
 state swelled the ranks on the frontier, and France 
 became a great mililaiy power, from the causes 
 which it was thought would have led to its de- 
 struction. The natural consequence of this 
 was the establishment of militaiy despotism, 
 and the prosecution of the insane career of con- 
 quest by a victorious chieftain. France only 
 awakened Irom her dream of ambition when her 
 youth was mowed down, her armies destroyed, 
 her conquests rifled, and her glory lost. Both 
 I the allied powers and the French people sufiered 
 I in these disastrous conflicts, because both de- 
 served to suffer ; the former for their ambitious 
 projects on the territor}- of ihe Republic, the latter 
 for their unparalleled cruelty. 
 
 Finally, the histoiy of those melancholy peri- 
 ods afibrds the strongest evidence of the inces- 
 sant operation of the principles destined for the 
 preservation of social happiness, even in the 
 darkest periods of human existence. Since the 
 fall of the Roman Empire, no such calamitous 
 era had arisen as that which immediately fol- 
 lowed the lOih of August ; none in whichinno- 
 cence so generally sufiered, and vice so long tri- 
 umphed ; in which impiety was so openly pro- 
 fessed, and profligacy so generally indulged ; in 
 which blood flowed in such ceaseless torrents, 
 and anguish imbittered such a multitude of 
 hearts. Yet, even in those disastrous times, the 
 benevolent laws of Nature were incessantly act- 
 ing; this anguish expiated the sins of former 
 times ; this blood lamed the fierceness of present 
 discord. In the stern school of adversity wis- 
 dom was learned, and error forgotten ; specula- 
 tion ceased to blind its votaries, and ambition to 
 mislead by the language of virtue. Years of 
 suffering conferred centuries of experience ; the 
 latest posterity' will, it is to be hoped, in that 
 country at least, reap the fruits of the Reign of 
 Terror. Like all human things, the government 
 of France may undergo changes in the lapse of 
 time ; different institutions may be required, and 
 new dynasties called to the throne ; but no 
 bloody convulsion similar to that which once 
 tore its bosom will again take place ; the higher 
 ranks will not a second time be massacred by the 
 lower; another French Revolution of the same 
 character as the last, and the age in which it oc- 
 curs must be ignorant of the first. 
 
179G.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 391 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1796 IN ITALY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 • Sirth and Parentage of Napoleon. — IIis Character, Resi- 
 dence, and Ilalnts when in (;orsK a. — Removed to the Mili- 
 tary School at Uneuiie. — His Cliaractcr there. — Is sent to 
 the Ecole Mililaiie at Paris. — Progress and Development 
 of his Character. — Enters the Army, and with his Regi- 
 ment espouses the Cause of the Revolution. — His first Ser- 
 vice in Corsica, and at the Siege of Toulon. — His tirst Ac- 
 quaintance with Junot.— Is attached to Dumeibion's Army 
 in the Maritime Alps. — Sent to Genoa, where he is ar- 
 rested and liberated. — Returns to Paris. — His destitute 
 condition there. — Receives the Command from the Direc- 
 tory on the 13th Vendeniiaire. — His Marriage with Jose- 
 phine. — Her History, and remarkable Adventure at the 
 Fall of Robespierre ; and Character. — He marries her, and 
 receives the Command of the Army of Italy. — Stale of the 
 Italian Military Force. — Calamities which the French In- 
 vasion brought on the peninsula. — State of the French 
 Army when Napoleon assumed the Command. — Character 
 of its Ofiicers. — Berlhier. — Massena. — Augereau. — Ser- 
 .rurier. — Amount of the Allied Forces. — Napoleon's first 
 Proclamation to his Soldiers. — His Plan of the Campaign. 
 — Battle of Montenotte. — Heroic Conduct of Colonel 
 Kampon. — Success of the French. — Action at MiUesimo, 
 and at Dego. — Bold Advance of Wukassowich to Dego, 
 ■which, at tirst successful, being unsupported, at length 
 fails. — Arrival of the Republicans on the Heights of 
 Monte Zemolo. — Actions of Serrurier with Colli. — Danger 
 of Napoleon. — Action at Mondovi. — Immense Advantages 
 gained to the French by these Operations. — Consterna- 
 tion of the Court of Tunn. — They resolve to submit to 
 France. — Armistice. — Its Conditions, followed by a Trea- 
 ty of Peace between France and Sardinia. — Its immense 
 Importance to Napoleon. — His triumjihant Proclamation 
 ■ to his Soldiers. — Into.xication at Paris on this Intelligence. 
 — Designs of Napoleon. — He crosses the Po, aud proceeds 
 against Beaulieu. — Action at Fombio. — Capitulation of the 
 Grand-duke of Parma. — Commencement of Napoleon's 
 System of levying Contribution of the Works of Art. — 
 Terrible Passage of the Bridge of Lodi. — Napoleon enters 
 Milan. — His Proclamation there to his Troops.— Enthu- 
 siasm e.xcited by these Successes among the Popular Party 
 in Italy. — Cruel dispelling of the Illusion by the French 
 Contributions. — War made to support War. — The Direc- 
 tory, jealous of his Power, orders Napoleon to proceed to 
 Rome. — He Refuses. — Alaiming Insurrection at Pavia. — 
 Storm and Sack of that City by the French Troops. — Na- 
 poleon enters Brescia and the A'enitian Territory. — De- 
 bates in the Venitian Senate on what should be done. — 
 They merely deprecate the Hostility of France. — Massena 
 enters Verona, and Napoleon is established on the Adige. — 
 Description and Blockade of .Mantua. — Napoleon resolves 
 to proceed against Florence and Rome before tlie Aus- 
 trian Succours arrive. — Castle of Milan taken. — Genoese 
 Fiefs subdued. — Enters Modena and Bologna. — Submis- 
 sion of tlie Pope. — Violation of the Neutral Territory of 
 Tuscany and Seizure of Leghorn. — Massacre of the Peas- 
 ants at Lugo. — Eftbrts of the Austrians for the Relief of 
 Mantua. — Advance of Wurmser through the Tyrol with 
 Thirty Thousand Men. — Description of the Theatre of 
 War. — Austrian Plan of Attack, and great Success in the 
 Outset. — E.xtreme Penl of Napoleon. — He raises the Siege 
 of Mantua. — Napoleon resumes the offensive, and stops 
 Quasdanowich. — Wurmser enters Mantua. — Battles of 
 LoaatQ and Castiglione. — Surrender of Four Thousand 
 Austrians to Napoleon's Staff and Twelve Hundred Men. 
 — Decisive Battle at Medula. — Retreat of the Austrians. 
 — Blockade of Mantua resumed. — Formation of the Polish 
 Legion. — Wurmser again advances, and the French issue 
 forlli to meet him.— Defeat of Davidovvich near Galliano. 
 — Napoleon advances against Wurmser. — Action near 
 Primo Lano in the Val Sugana. — Wurmser defeated near 
 Bassano by Massena, and throws himself into Mantua.— 
 Results of these Actions.— Vast Efforts of both Sides to re- 
 cruit their Forces.— Alvinzi again advances. — Defeat of 
 Vaubois by the Imperialists. — Napoleon ha.^tens in person 
 to the Plateau of Rivoli.— Returns to Caldiero, and is de- 
 feated there by Alvinzi.— His desperate Situation.- His 
 new Designs.— He moves down the Adige to turn the Posi- 
 tion of Caldiero by Areola — Dreadful Struggle there. — 
 Operations of Davidowich.— Result of these Actions.— Ex- 
 traordinary Joy at Paris. — Mission of Clarke to negotiate 
 lor Peace. — Thwarted by Napoleon. — Vast Efforts of the 
 
 Austrians.- They make a fourth Attempt to relieve Man- 
 tua. — Advance to Rivoli. — Decisive Victory of Napoleon. 
 — He hastens to the Lower Adige. — Operations of Proven 
 there, who is forcnl to surrender. — Results of these Bat- 
 tles.— Surrender of Mantua. — Napoleon marches towards 
 Rome. — Treaty of Tolentino between France and the 
 Pope. — Retrospect of the Campaign. — Extraordinary- 
 Composition of the Fiench Army. — Great Genius of Na- 
 poleon. — His System of War. — But it will nut succeed 
 against Troops equally brave and skilful. — Causes of tho 
 Disasters of the Austrians. — General Reflections on tho 
 Result of the Campaign. — Unconquerable Tenacity of tho 
 Austrians. 
 
 Napoleon Bonaparte was bom at Ajaccio, 
 in Corsica, on the 15th of Au°:u.st, 1769. The 
 Duke of Wellington was bom in the same 
 month. " Providence," said Louis XVIII., 
 " owed us that counterpoise."* 
 
 His family, though noble, had not been distin- 
 guished, and had suffered severely from Bj^tij ^nd 
 misfortune. He was too great a man family of 
 to attempt to derive distinction from Napoleon. 
 any adventitious advantages wh^ch did not really 
 belong to him, and could afibrd to discard all the 
 lustre of patrician descent. When the Emperor 
 of Austria endeavoured, after he became his son- 
 in-law, to trace his connexion with some of the 
 obscure dukes of Treviso, he answered that he 
 Avas the Rudolph of Hap.sburg of his family ; and 
 when the genealogists were engaged in deducing 
 his descent from an ancient line of Gothic prin- 
 ces, he cut short their labours by declaring that 
 his patent of nobility dated from the battle of 
 Montenotte.t 
 
 His mother, who was distinguished by great 
 beauty, and no common firmness and intrepidity 
 of mind, shared in the fatigues and dangers of her 
 husband during the civil di.ssensions which dis- 
 tracted the island at the time of his birth, and had 
 recently before been engaged in some expeditions 
 on horseback with him. His father died at the age 
 of thirty-eight, of a cancer in the stomach, a com- 
 plaint hereditary in his family, and which also 
 proved fatal to IS^apoleon himself; but the want 
 of paternal care was more than supplied by his 
 mother, to whose early education and solicitude 
 he, in after life, mainly ascribed his elevation.: 
 Though left a widow in the prime of life, his 
 mother had already bom thirteen children, of 
 whom live sons and three daughters survived 
 their father. She lived to see one of them wear- 
 ing the crown of Charlemagne, and another seat- 
 ed on the throne of Charles V.§ 
 
 On the day of his birth, being the festival of 
 the Assumption, she had been at church, and was 
 seized with her pains during high mass. She 
 was brought home hastily, and, as there was not 
 time to prepare a bed, laid upon a couch covered 
 with tapestry representing the heroes of the Iliad, 
 and there the future conqueror was brought into 
 the world. II 
 
 In the years of infancy he exhibited nothing re- 
 
 * Bour., i., 18. Scherer, 1. Las Cas., i., 137. 
 
 t Las Cas.. i., 108, 112. Bour., i.. 23. 
 
 t " My opinion," said Napoleon, " is, that the future good 
 or bad conduct of a child depends entirely on the mother." 
 — O'Meara, li., lUO. 
 
 I) Las Cas., i., 117, 119. 120. O'Meara, ii., 100. D'Abr., 
 iu, 376, 377. i D'Abr., ii., 377. Las Cas., i., 126. 
 
392 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 markable, excepting irritability and turbulence 
 of temper; but these qualities, as well as the de- 
 cision witii which they were accompanied, were 
 so powerful, that they gave him the entire com- 
 mand of his eldest brother Joseph, a boy of a 
 mild and unassuming character, who was con- 
 stantly beaten, pinched, or tormented by the fu- 
 ture ruler of tlie worhi. But even at that eaily 
 period it was observed that he never wept when 
 chastised; and on one occasion, when he was 
 only seven years of age, having been suspected 
 unjustly of a fault, and punished when innocent, 
 he endured the pain, and subsisted in disgrace 
 for three days on the coarsest food, rather than 
 betray his companion, who was really in fault. 
 Though his anger was violent, it was generally 
 of short endurance, and his smile, from the first, 
 Avas like a beam of the sun emerging from the 
 clouds. But, nevertheless, he gave no indica- 
 tions of extraordinary capacity at that early age ; 
 and his mother M"as frequently heard to declare, 
 that of all her children, he was the one v.hom she 
 would least have expected to have attained any 
 extraordinary eminence.* 
 
 The winter residence of his father was usual- 
 His character h' ^^ Ajaccio, the place of his birth, 
 residence, and where there is still preserved the 
 habits when model of a cannon, Aveighing about 
 lu Corsica. thirty pounds, the early plaything 
 of Napoleon. But in summer the family retired 
 to a dilapidated villa near the isle of Sanguini- 
 ere, once the residence of a relation of his moth- 
 er's, situated in a romantic spot on the sea- 
 shore. The house is approached by an avenue 
 overhung by the cactus and acacia, and other 
 shrubs which grow luxuriantly in a southern 
 climate. It has a garden and a lawn showing 
 vestiges of neglected beaut)-, and surrounded by 
 a shrubbery permitted to run to wilderness. 
 There, enclosed by the cactus, the clematis, and 
 the wild olive, is a singular and isolated granite 
 rock, beneath which the remains of a small sum- 
 aner-house are .still visible, the entrance to \^hich 
 is nearly closed by a luxuriant fig-tree. This 
 •was the favourite retreat of the young Napoleon, 
 who early showed a love of solitary meditation 
 during the periods when the vacations at school 
 permitted him to return home. We might sup- 
 pose that there were perhaps formed those vis- 
 ions of ambition and high resolves for which the 
 limits of the world were ere long felt to be insuf- 
 ficient, did we not know that childhood can hard- 
 ly anticipate the destiny of maturer years; and 
 that, in Cromwelfs words, a man never rises so 
 high as when he does not know where his course 
 is to terminate. + 
 
 At an early age he was sent to the militarj' 
 school of Brienne. His character 
 the"ma^tary there Underwent a rapid alteration, 
 school at Bri- He became thoughtful, studious, 
 enuo ; his contemplative, and diligent in the 
 extreme. His proficiency, especi- 
 ally in mathematics, was soon re- 
 markable; but the quickness of his temper, 
 though subdued, was not extinguished. On one 
 occasion, having been subjected to a degrading 
 punishment by his master, that of dining on his 
 knees at the gate of the refectory, the mortifica- 
 tion he experienced was so excessive that it pro- 
 duced a violent vomiting and a universal trem- 
 our of the nerves.l But in the games of his 
 companions he was inferior to none in spirit and 
 
 character 
 there. 
 
 * D'Abr., i., 49, 52, 54. Las Cas., i., 126. 
 + Penson, 4, 6. Scott, iii., 10. 
 t Las Cus., 1., 127. Bour., i., 22. 
 
 agility, and already began to evince, in a deci- 
 ded predilection for military pursuits, the native 
 bias of his mind. 
 
 During the winter of 17S3-4, .so remarkable 
 for its severity even in southern latitudes, the 
 amusements of the boys without doors were com- 
 pletely stopped. Napoleon proposed to his com- 
 panions to beguile the Meary hours by forming 
 iiitrenchments and bastions of snow, with para- 
 pels, ravelins, and horn- works. The little army 
 was divided into two parties, one of which was 
 intrusted with the attack, the other with the de- 
 fence of the works ; and the mimic war was con- 
 tinued for several weeks, during which fractures 
 and wounds were received on both sides. On 
 another occasion, the wife of the porter of the 
 school, well known to the boys lor the fruit 
 which she sold, having presented herself at the 
 door of their theatre to be allowed to see the 
 Death of Cccsar, which was to be played by the 
 youths, and been refused an entrance, the ser- 
 geant at the door, induced by the vehemence of 
 her manner, reported the matter to the young 
 Napoleon, Mho was the ofiicer in command on 
 the occasion. " Remove that woman, who 
 brings here the license of camps!" said the fu- 
 ture ruler of the Revolution.* 
 
 It was the fortune of the school at Brienne at 
 this time to possess among its scholars, besides 
 Napoleon, another boy, who rose to the highest 
 eminence in the Revolution, Pichegru, after- 
 ward conqueror of Holland. He was several 
 years older than Napoleon, and instructed him 
 in the elements of mathematics and the four 
 first rules of arithmetic. Pichegru early per- 
 ceived the firm character of his little Jiupil; and 
 when, many years afterward, he had embraced 
 the Royalist party, and it was proposed to hinx 
 to sound Napoleon, then in command of the ar- 
 my of Italy, he replied, " Don't waste time upon 
 him: I have known him I'rom his infancy; his 
 character is indexible ; he has taken his side, and 
 will never swerve from it." The fate of these 
 two illustrious men afterward rose in painful 
 contrast to each other: Pichegru was strangled 
 in a dungeon when Napoleon was ascending the 
 throne of France.t 
 
 The speculations of Napoleon at this time 
 were more devoted to political than miliiary sub- 
 jects. His habits were thoughtful and solitar_v; 
 and his conversation, even at that early age, 
 was so remarkable lor its reflection and energ}'-, 
 that it attracted the notice of the Abbe Raynal, 
 with whom he frequently lived in vacations, and 
 who discoursed with him on government, legis- 
 lation, and the relations of commerce. He was 
 distinguished by his Italian complexion, his 
 piercing look, and the decided style of his ex- 
 pression : a peculiarity which frequently led to 
 a vehemence of manner, which rendered him not 
 generally popular with his schoolfellows. The 
 moment their playtime arrived, he Hew to the 
 library of the school, where he read with avidit)"- 
 the historical works of the ancients, particularly 
 Polybius, Plutarch, and Arrian. His compan- 
 ions disliked him on account of his not joining 
 their games at these hours, and frequently ralli- 
 ed him on his name and Corsican birth. He 
 otlen said to Bourrienne, his earliest friend, with 
 much bitterness, "I hate these French: I will 
 do them all the mischief in my power." Not- 
 withstanding this, his animosity had nothing un- 
 
 ' Bour.. i., 25,28. 
 
 t Las Cas., 1., 128, 131. 
 
 O'Meara, i., 240. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 SG? 
 
 generous in it; and wlien lie was intrusted, in 
 liis turn, with the enlbrcing of any regulation 
 which was infringed, he prelerred going to pris- 
 on to infoniiing against the young delinquents.* 
 Though his progress at school was respecta- 
 ble, it was not remarkable ; and the notes trans- 
 mitted to guvernmenl in 178-1 exhibited many 
 other young men much more distinguished for 
 their early proliciencj' — a circumstance frequent- 
 ly observable in those who ultimately rise to 
 greatness. In the private instructions commu- 
 nicated to government by the masters of the 
 school, he was characterized as of a '■ domineer- 
 ing, imperious, and headstrong character."t 
 
 During the vacations of school, he returned, 
 in general, to Corsica, where he gave vent to the 
 ardour of his mind in traversing the mountains 
 and valleys of that romantic island, and listen- 
 ing to the tales of feudal strife and family re- 
 venge by which its inhabitants are so remarka- 
 bly distinguished. The celebrated Paoli, the 
 hero of Corsica, accompanied him in some of 
 these excursions, and explained to him on the 
 road the actions which he had fought, and the 
 positions which he had occupied during his 
 struggle for the independence of the island. The 
 energ3r and decision of his young companion at 
 this period made a great impression on that il- 
 lustrious man. " Oh, Napoleon !" said he, " you 
 do not resemble the moderns — you belong only to 
 the heroes of Plutarch."; 
 
 At the age of fourteen he was sent from the 
 Is sent to the school of Brienne to the Ecole Mil- 
 Ecole Mili- itaire at Paris for the completion 
 t.-iire at P.aiis. of his military studies. He had 
 Enters the ar- j^ot been long there when he was so 
 ™^' much struck with the luxurious 
 
 habits in which the young men were then 
 brought up, that he addressed an energetic me- 
 morial to the governor on the subject, strongly 
 "urging that, instead of having footmen and 
 grooms to wait upon their orders, they should be 
 taught to do everything for themselves, and in- 
 ured to the hardships and privations which await- 
 ed them in real warfare. In the year 1785, at 
 the age of sixteen, he received a commission in 
 a regiment of artillery, and was soon promoted 
 to the rank of first lieutenant in a- corps quarter- 
 ed at Valence. Shortly after, he gave a proof 
 of the varied subjects which occupied his mind 
 by writing a History of Corsica, and an Essay 
 for a prize, proposed by the Abbe Raynal, on 
 the " Institutions most likely to contribute to 
 Public Happiness." The prize was adjudged 
 to the young soldier. These productions, as 
 might have been expected, were distinguished 
 by the Revolutionary doctrines then generally 
 prevalent, and very dilierent from his maturer 
 speculations. The essay was recovered by Tal- 
 leyrand after Napoleon was on the throne, but 
 the moment the emperor saw it he tlirew it into 
 the tiames.§ 
 
 At this period Napoleon was generally dis- 
 J-. , liked bj' his companions : he was con- 
 
 ter there. '^" ^'dered as proud, haughty, and irasci- 
 ble ; but with the few whose conver- 
 sation he valued, and whose friendship he chose 
 to cultivate, he was even then a favourite, and 
 high expectations began to be formed of the fu- 
 ture eminence to which he might rise. His 
 
 * Bour., i., 27, S2, 33, 35. Las Cas , i., 136. D'Abr., i., 
 111. t Bour.,i., 37, 3S. 
 
 t I.ns Cas., i., 136 ; ii.. 348. 
 
 I) O'Meara, ii., I6S, 169. Las Cas., i., 43, 136, 141. 
 Eour., i., 44. D'Abr., i., 76. 
 
 Vol. I.— U d d 
 
 powers of reasoning were already remarkable; 
 his expressions lucid and energetic ; his knowl- 
 edge and information inmiense, considering his 
 years, and the opportunities of study which he 
 had enjoyed. Logical accuracy was the greatest; 
 characteristic of his mind; and his subsequent 
 compositions have abundantly proved, that if he 
 had not become the first conqueror, he would 
 have been one of the greatest writers, as he as- 
 suredly was one ot the profoundest thinkers of 
 modem times.* 
 
 His figure, always diminutive, was at that pe- 
 riod thin and meager in the highest degree ; a 
 circumstance which rendered his appearance 
 somewhat ridiculous when he first assumed the 
 military dress. Mademoiselle Permon, after- 
 ward Duchess of Abrantes, one of his earliest 
 lemale acquaintances, and who afterward be- 
 came one of the most brilliant wits of the im- 
 perial court, mentions that he came to their 
 house on the day on which he first put on his 
 unilbrm, in the highest spirits, as is usual with. 
 j'oung men on such an occasion ; but her sister,, 
 two years younger than herself, who had just left 
 her boarding-school, was so struck with his com- 
 ical appearance, in the enormous boots which, 
 were at tliat period worn by the artillery, that 
 she immediately burst into an immoderate fit of 
 laughter, saying he resembled nothing so much, 
 as Puss jji Boots. The stroke told; the libel was 
 too true not to be felt; but Napoleon soon recov- 
 ered his good-humour, and a few days afterward 
 presenteil her with an elegantly bound copy of 
 Puss in Boots, as a proof that lie retained no 
 rancour for her raillery. t 
 
 When the Revolution broke out, he adhered, 
 like almost all the voung officers of „ 
 
 , , , " 1 ^ 1 .1 He espouses, 
 
 a subaltern rank, to the popular side, ^uh his regi- 
 and continued a warm patriot during ment, the ° 
 the whole time of the Constituent cause of the 
 Assembly. But on the appointment ""^liit'oii- 
 of the Legislative Assembly, he has himself de- 
 clared that his sentiments underwent a rapid 
 change ; and he soon imbibed, under the Reign 
 of Terror, that profound hatred of the Jacobins, 
 which his subsequent life so strongly evinced, 
 and which he never, even for the purposes of 
 ambition, made anj^ attempts to disguise. It 
 was his fortune to witness both the mob which 
 inundated the Tuileries on the '20th of June, and 
 that which overturned the throne on the 10th of 
 August; and on both he strongly expressed his 
 sense of the ruinous consequences likely to arise 
 from the want of resolution in the government. 
 No man knew better the con.sequences of yield- 
 ing to popular clamour, or how rapidly it is 
 checked by proper firmness in the depositaries of 
 power : from the weakness shown on the 20th of 
 June, he predicted the disastrous effects which 
 so speedily followed on the next great revolt of 
 the populace. When he saw the monarch, in 
 obedience to the rabble, put on the red cap, his 
 indignation knew no bounds. " How on earth," 
 he exclaimed, " could they let those wretches en- 
 ter the palace ! They should have cut down four 
 or five hundred with grapeshot, and the rest 
 would speedily have taken to flight."; 
 
 The first military exploit of Napoleon was in 
 his native country. Tlie disturbances ujs first 
 in Corsica having led the Revolutionary service ia 
 forces into that island, he was despatch- Corsica, 
 ed from Bastia, in the spring of 1793, to surprise- 
 
 * D'Al)!-., i., HI. Las Cas., i., 140, 141. 
 
 t D'Abr.,!., 113. 
 
 t Bour., i., 49. Las Cas., i., 146. 
 
394 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 his native city of Ajaccio, and succeeded in ma- 
 king liimseU' master of a tower called the Tone 
 di Oapitello, in its vicinity, ■vvhere he was shortly 
 afterward besieged, and compelled to evacuate 
 it.* His talents, and the high character which 
 he had received Irom the masters of the military 
 academy, soon, however, led to a more important 
 And at employment. At the siege of Toulon, 
 the siege the command of the artillery, after the 
 of Toulon, operations had advanced a considerable 
 length, was intrusted to his direction, and he soon 
 communicated a new impulse to the hitherto 
 languishing progress of the siege. By his advice, 
 the attack was changed from the body of the 
 place to the forts on the Hauteur de Grasse, and 
 on the Mountain of Faron, which proved so suc- 
 cessful, that the siege, which before his arrival 
 ■was on the point of being abandoned in de- 
 spair, was speedily crowned with complete sue- 
 First acquaint- cess. During this operation he was 
 ance with Ju- first Struck by the firmness and intre- 
 not and Duroc pidity of a young corporal of artil- 
 lery, whom he immediately recommended for 
 promotion. Having occasion to send a de- 
 spatch from the trenches, he called for some per- 
 son who could write, that he might dictate the 
 order. A young soldier stepped from the ranks, 
 and resting the paper on the brea.stwork, began 
 to write as he dictated, when a shot from the 
 enemy's batteries struck the ground close to him, 
 and covered the paper with earth. " Thank 
 you," said the soldier ; " we shall have no occa- 
 sion for sand on this page." Napoleon asked 
 Mm Avhat he could do for him. "Eveiything," 
 replied the young private, blushing with emotion, 
 and touching his left shoulder with his hand; 
 " you can turn this worsted into an epaulet." 
 A few days after. Napoleon sent for the same 
 soldier to order him to reconnoitre in the enemy's 
 trenches, and recommended that he should dis- 
 guise himself, for fear of his being discovered. 
 "Never," replied he. " Do you take me for a 
 Bpyl I will go in my uniform, though I should 
 never return." And, in effect, he set out instant- 
 ly, dressed as he was, and had the good fortune 
 to return unhurt. Napoleon immediately rec- 
 ommended him for promotion, and never lost 
 eight of his courageous secretary. He was Ju- 
 NOT, afterward Marshal of France and Duke of 
 Abrantes.tt 
 
 On another occasion, an artilleryman having 
 been shot while loading a gun, he took up the 
 dead man's ramrod, and with his own hands 
 served the piece for a considerable time. He 
 tirst took notice, at the same siege, of another 
 young soldier named Duroc, whom he never 
 afterward lost sight of, made Marshal of the Pal- 
 ace, and ever treated with the most unlimited 
 confidence, till he was killed by his side on the 
 field of Bautzen. Duroc loved Napoleon for 
 himself, and possessed, perhaps, a larger share 
 of his confidence than any of his other generals; 
 and none knew so well, in after years, how to let 
 the first ebullition of the imperial wrath escape 
 
 ■" Benson, 4. Scott, iii., 21. 
 
 t Duchess d'Abr., ii., 191. Las Cas., i., 166. Nap., i., 
 10, 13. 
 
 4 So strongly did N.ipoleon's character impress Junot at 
 that time, that he quitted his reg'iment to devote himself to 
 his fortunes as aid-de-camp, and wrote to his father in 1794. 
 jn answer to his Inquiries, what .sort of a youns; man he was 
 to whom he had attached himself, " He is one of those 
 men of whom Nature is sparing, and whom she does not 
 throw upon the earth but with centuries between them.'"- 
 
 D'Abr., ii., 193. Las Cas., i., ISj. 
 
 without producing fatal efiects, and allowing the 
 better judgment of his sovereign to resume its 
 sway in cooler moments.* 
 
 The reputation which Napoleon acquired from 
 the successful issue of this siege was very great. 
 All the generals, representatives, and soldiers, 
 who had heard the advice which lie gave at the 
 councils three months belbre the capture of the 
 town, and witnessed his activity at the works, 
 anticipated a future career of glory to the young 
 officer. Dugommier wrote to the Committee 
 of Public Safety in these words: " Reward and 
 promote that young man; for, if you are un- 
 grateful towards him, he will raise himself 
 alone."t 
 
 This success procured for Napoleon the com- 
 mand of the artillerv of the anuv of , ,. , ^ 
 
 T. 1 1 • .1 ' • c iV-r>< 's attached 
 
 Italy durmg the campaign ot 1794. lo Dumer- 
 Dumerbion, who was advanced in bion's army 
 years, submitted all the operations to '" "'•= Ma-n- 
 a council of younger officers, among ""'" ■^P*" 
 whom Napoleon and Massena soon acquired a 
 decided lead ; and the former, from the Ibrce of 
 superior talents, gradually came to direct the 
 whole operations of the campaign; and it was 
 his ability which procured for the French armies 
 the capture of Saorgia, the Col di Tende, and all 
 the higher chain of the Maritime Alps. These 
 successes awakened in his ardent mind those 
 lofty visions of ambition which he was so soon 
 destined to realize; one night in June, 1794, he 
 spent on the summit of the Col di Tende, Irom 
 whence, at simrise, he beheld with delight the 
 blue plains of Italy, already to his prophetic eye 
 the theatre of glorious achievement.: 
 
 In July, 1794, Napoleon was sent by the com- 
 
 missioners of the convention to Ge- 
 
 Sent to Genoa, 
 
 noa upon a secret mission, in which and there ar- 
 he was connected with Robespierre's rested and lib- 
 brother, then intrusted with the su- united, 
 preme command at Toulon. This mission saved 
 his life ; the younger Robespierre, for whom, at 
 that period, he had conceived the highest admi- 
 ration, earnestly entreated Napoleon to accom- 
 pany him to Paris, whither he was returning to 
 support his brother ; but he was inflexible in his 
 refusal. Had he yielded, he would infallibly 
 have .shared the fate of both, and the destinies 
 of Europe would have been changed. As it 
 was, he was exposed, from his connexion with 
 these leaders, to no inconsiderable dangers even 
 on his Italian mission. Within a month after, 
 he was, in consequence of the fall of Robespierre, 
 arrested by the new commissioners, whom the 
 Thermidorian party sent out to the aiTuy of Italy, 
 and made a narrow escape with his life. He 
 addressed, in consequence, an ener- 
 getic remonstrance to the commis- jtqI"^' 
 sioners, remarkable for the strong 
 sense, condensed thought, and powerful expres- 
 sion which it contains; while his friend Junot 
 was so penetrated with grief at his misfortune, 
 that he wrote to the commissioners, 
 protesting his innocence, and implo- "^"^ 
 ring to be allowed to share his captivity. It was 
 attended with complete success ; a fortnight af- 
 terward he was provisionall}' set at Returns to Pa- 
 liberty, and immediately returned to ns. 
 Paris. He was there offered a com- ^>;p'- 15. 
 mand in La Vendee ; and having declined it, he 
 was deprived of his rank as a general officer, 
 and reduced to private life.§ 
 
 * Las Cas., ii., 156, 157. Scott, iii., 35. 
 
 t Nap., III., 15. t lb., iii., 26, 34. 
 
 ^ Eour., i.,60,61,69,70. Las Cas., 107. D'Abr., ii., I'J-I. 
 
1706.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE, 
 
 395 
 
 The period which now intervened from the 
 dismissal of Napoleon to the attack of the sec- 
 lions on the convention in October, 179'), he has 
 himself described as the happiest in his life.* 
 Living almost without money, on the bounty of 
 his Iriends, in coffee-houses and theatres, his ar- 
 dent imagination dwelt incessantly on the fu- 
 ture; and visions floated across his mind, linj^etl 
 with those bright colours in which the eye of 
 youthful genius arrays the path of lile : a stri- 
 king proof of the dependance of happiness on the 
 mind itself, and the slight influence which even 
 the greatest external success has in replenishing 
 the secret fountains from which the joys or sor- 
 rows of existence are drawn. During these days 
 of visionary romance, he dwelt with peculiar 
 pleasure on his favourite idea of repairing to 
 Constantinople, and offering his services to the 
 Grand Signior, under the impression that things 
 ■were too stable in the Western world, and that it 
 was in the East alone that those great revolu- 
 tions were to be eftected which at once immor- 
 talize the names of their authors. He even went 
 so far as to prepare, and address to the French 
 government a memorial, in which he oflered, 
 with a few officers who were willing to follow 
 3iis fortunes, to go to Turkey, to organize its 
 forces against Russia ; a proposal wliich, if ac- 
 ceded to, would probably have changed the fate 
 of the world. This impression nev^er I'orsook 
 him through life ; it was, perhaps, the secret 
 motive of the expedition to Moscow; and even 
 after all the glories of his subsequent career, he 
 looked back with regret to these early visions ;t 
 and when speaking of Sir Sidney Smith and 
 the check at Acre, repeatedly said, " That man 
 made me miss my destiny." 
 
 So low, however, were the fortunes of the fu- 
 His desti- ^ui'e emperor fallen at that period, that 
 tute condi- he was frequently indebted to his 
 tion tliere. friends for a meal, which he could not 
 aflbrd to purchase himself His brother Lucien 
 and he brought the black bread received in their 
 rations to Madame Bourrienne, and received in 
 exchange loaves of white flour, which she had 
 clandestinely, and at the hazard of her life, re- 
 ceived during the law of the maximum from a 
 neighbouring confectioner. At this period she 
 lodged in a new house in the Rue des Marais. 
 Napoleon was very anxious to hire, with the as- 
 sistance of his uncle, afterward Cardinal Fesch, 
 the one opposite. " With that house," said he, 
 "the society of yourself, a few friends, and a 
 ■cabriolet, I should be the happiest of men."j§ 
 
 * O'Meara, ii., 155. 
 
 t O'Meara, ii., 155. Las Cas., i., 172. Bour., i , 72, 76. 
 
 t Bour., i., 76, 81, 86. 
 
 I) In those days Napoleon wore the gray greatcoat, wliich 
 has since become more celebrated than the white plume of 
 Henry IV. ; he had no gloves, for, as he said himself, they 
 "Were a useless expense ; his boots, ill made, were seldom 
 1)lackened ; his yellow visage, meager countenance, and se- 
 vere physiognomy, gave as little indication of his future ap- 
 pearance as his fortunes did of his future destiny. Salicetti 
 had been the author of his arrest. " He did me all the mis- 
 chief in his power," said Napoleon ; " but mi/ i-(ar would not 
 permit him to prevail."* So early had the idea of a brilliant 
 destiny taken possession of his mind. He afterward made a 
 generous return to his enemy : Salicetti was ordered to be 
 arrested by the convention after the condemnation of Home, 
 the chief of the conspirators, and he was concealed in the 
 house of the mother of the future Duchess of Abrantes. 
 Napoleon learned the secretin consequence of a love intrigue 
 between his valet and their maid ; but he concealed his 
 knowledge, facilitated his escape, and sent a letter to his 
 enemy on the roail, informing him of the return he had made 
 Hot his malevolence.! • 
 
 * S'Abr,, i,, 2m, 256. 
 
 I lb., 351. 
 
 But another destiny awaited the young soldier. 
 The approaching conflict of the conveniion with 
 the seciion.s was the first circumstance which 
 raised him from the obscurity into which he had 
 recently fallen. His great abilities being known 
 to several persons of influence in government, he 
 was, on the first appearance of llie approaching 
 struggle, taken into the confidence of the admin- 
 istration, and had lieen consulted by them for 
 some month.s before the contest began. When 
 the attack by Menou on the section Le Pelletier 
 failed, Napoleon was .sent for. He p . 
 found the convention in the utmost command from 
 agitation ; and measures of accom- the Directory 
 modation with the insurgents were "" 'he I3th 
 already talked of, when his firmness Vendemiaue. 
 and decision saved the government. He paint- 
 ed in such vivid colours the extreme peril of 
 sharing tlie supreme authority between the mili- 
 tary commander and three commissioners of the 
 convention, that the Committee of Public Safety 
 agreed to appoint Bai-ras commander-in-chief, 
 and Napoleon second in command. No sooner 
 was this done than he despatched at midnight a 
 chief of squadron, named Murat,* v.-ith tlu-ee 
 hundred horse, to seize the park of artillery lying 
 at Sablons. I3e arrived a few minutes before 
 the troops of the sections, who came to obtain 
 them for the insurgents, and by this decisive 
 step put at the disposal of government those 
 formidable batteries, which next dav spread, 
 death through the ranks of the National Guard, 
 and at one blow extinguished the revolt. Bar- 
 ras declared in his report that it was to Napo- 
 leon's skilful disposition of the posts round the 
 Tuileries that the success of the day was owing; 
 but he himself never ceased to lament that his 
 first success in separate command should have 
 been gained in civil dissension, and often said, 
 in after times, that he would give many years of 
 his life to tear that page from his history.t; 
 
 The next event in Napoleon's career vv-as not 
 less important on liis ultimate fortunes. On oc- 
 
 * " Murat," said Napoleon, " was a most singular char- 
 acter. He loved, I may rather say, adored me ; with me he 
 was my right arm, as without me he was nothing. Order 
 Murat to attack and destroy four or five thousand men in 
 such a direction, it was done in a moment ; leave him to 
 himself, he was an imbecih without judgment. In battle he 
 was perhaps the bravest man in the world : his boiling cour- 
 age carried him into the midst of the enemy, covered with 
 plumes and glittering with gold ; how he escaped was a 
 miracle, for, from being so distinguished a mark, every one 
 fired at him. The Cossacks admired him on account of his 
 excessive bravery. Every day Murat was engaged in single 
 combat with some of them, and returned with his satire 
 dripping with the blood of those he had slain. He was a 
 Paladin in the field, but in the cabinet destitute of either 
 decision or judgment." — O'Meara, li., 96. 
 
 t Bour., i., 90, 96. Nap., iii., 67, 74. 
 
 X Though not gifted with the powers of popular oratory, 
 Napoleon was not destitute of that ready talent which 
 catches the idea most likely to divert the populace, and fre- 
 quently disarms them even in the moment of tlicir greatest 
 initation. When in command at Paris, after the suppres- 
 sion of this revolt, he was frequently broujht in collision, 
 with the people in a state of the utmost excitement: and 
 on these occasions his presence of miiid was as conspicuous 
 as his humanity was admirable. Above a hundred families, 
 during the dreadful famine which followed the suppression, 
 of the revolt of the sections in the winter of 1795-6, were 
 saved from death by his beneficence.* On one occasion, he 
 was trying to appease a mob in a state of extreme irritation, 
 when a fat woman, bursting from the throng, exclaimed, 
 " These wearers of epaulets, provided they fill their own 
 skms, care not though the poor die of famine." " My good 
 woman," said Napoleon, who at that time was rxceedinglj 
 thin, "look at me, and say which of us has fed the best." 
 This at once turned the laugh on his side, and he continued 
 his route without interruption. t 
 
 * D'Abr., ii., iS. 
 
 t Lu Cu., iL, 173. 
 
396 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 His mar- casioTi of tlic s;eneral disarming of the 
 riajje with inhabitants, alter the overthrow of the 
 Joscpluue. sections, a boy of ten years of age came 
 to request from Napoleon, as general of the interi- 
 or, that his father's sword, which had been deliver- 
 ed up, should be restored to him. His name was 
 Eugene Beauharnois ; and Napoleon was so 
 much struck by his appearance, that he was in- 
 duced not only to comply with the request, but 
 to visit his mother, Josephine Beauharnois. Her 
 husband had been one of the most elegant dan- 
 cers of his day, and from that quality was ire- 
 quently honoured with the hand of Marie An- 
 toinette at the court balls. Napoleon, whose in- 
 clination already began to revert to the manners 
 of the old rigimc, used to look around if the win- 
 dows were closed, and say, " Now let us talk of 
 the old court; let us m^ke a tour to Versailles." 
 From thence arose the intimacy which led to his 
 marriage with that lady, and ultimately placed 
 her on the throne of France.* 
 
 Her history had been very remarkable. She 
 H h' tor ^'^^ '^*^™ ^"^ ^^^ West Indies; and it 
 and remaTka- had early been prophesied by an old 
 ble adventure negress, that she should lose her first 
 at the fall of husband, be extremely unfortunate, 
 Robespierre. ^^^ ^j^^^ ^^^ should afterward be 
 gi'eater than a queen.t Tliis prophecy, the au- 
 thenticity of which is placed beyond a doubt, 
 was fulfilled in the most singular manner. Her 
 first husband, Alexander Beauharnois, a general 
 in the army on the Rhine, had been guillotined 
 during the Reign of Terror ; and she herself, who 
 was also imprisoned at the same time, was only 
 saved from impending death by the fall of Robes- 
 pierre. So strongly was the prophecy impressed 
 on her mind, that, while lying in the dungeons 
 of the Conciergerie, expecting every hour to he 
 summoned to the Revolutionary Tribunal, she 
 mentioned it to her fellow-prisoners, and to 
 am.use them, named some of them as ladies of 
 the bedchamber : a jest which she afterwai'd lived 
 to realize to one of their number.;§ 
 
 * LasCas..i., 173; ii., 190, 191. D'Abr., iii., 314. Nap., 
 i., 72. Scott, iii., 60. 
 
 t The author heard this prophecy, longf before Napoleon's 
 elevation to the throne, from the late Countess of Bath and 
 the Countess of Ancram, who were educated in tlie same 
 convent with Josephine, and had repeatedly heard her men- 
 tion the circumstance in early youth. 
 
 X Mem. de Josephine, par Mad. Crevier, i., 251, 252, 253. 
 Scott, lii., 82, note. 
 
 ^ Josephine herself narrated this extraordinary passage 
 in her life in the following terms : 
 
 " One morning the jailer entered the chamber where I 
 slept with the Duchess d'Aiguillon and two other ladies, and 
 told me he was goiu? to take my mattress to give it to an- 
 other prisoner. ' Why,' said Madame d'Aisuillon, eagerly, 
 ' will not Madame de Beauharnois obtain a better one V 'No, 
 DO,' replied he, with a fiendish smile, ' she will have no need 
 of one ; for she is about to be led to the Conciergerie, and 
 thence to the guillotine.' 
 
 "At these words my companions in misfortune uttered 
 piercing shrieks. I consoled them as well as I could, and 
 at length, worn out with their eternal lamentations, I told 
 them that their grief was utterly unreasonable ; that not 
 only I should not die, but live to he Queen of France. ' Why, 
 then, do ynu not name your maids of honour?' said Madame 
 d'Aiguillon, irritated at such expressions at such a moment. 
 ' Very true,' said 1 ; ' I did not think of that : well, my dear, 
 I make you one of them.' Upon this the tears of these la- 
 dies fell apace, for they never doubted I was mad. But the 
 truth was, I was not gifted with any oTtraordiuary courage, 
 but internally persuaded of the truth of the oracle. 
 
 " Madame d'Aiguillon soon after became unwell, and 1 
 drew her towards the window, which I opened, to admit 
 through the bars a little fresh air ; I there perceived a poor 
 woman who knew us, and who was making a number of 
 signs, which I at first could not understand. She constantly 
 held up her gown {robe) ; and seeing that she had some ob- 
 ject in view, I called out ' roic,' to which she answered ' yes.' 
 She then hfted up a stone and put it in her lap, which she 
 
 Josephine posses,sed all the qualities fitted to 
 excite admiration ; graceful in her 
 manners, aflectionate in her dispo- ■"" '=''='™'"- 
 sition, elegant in her appearance, she was qual- 
 ified both to awaken the love and form the hap- 
 piness of the young general, whose fate was now 
 united with her own. Her influence in subse- 
 quent times, when placed on the throne, was 
 never exerted but for the purposes of humanitj'-- 
 and if her extravagance sometimes amounted to 
 a fault, it was redeemed by the readiness with 
 which she gave ear to the tale of suliering. Na- 
 poleon himself said, after he had tasted of all the 
 greatness of the world, that the chief happiness 
 he had Imown in life had flowed from her aflec- 
 tion.*t 
 
 In the first instance, however, motives of am- 
 bition combined with a softer feeling 
 to fix Napoleon's choice; Madame imd^r'eceives' 
 Beauharnois had formed an intimacy the command 
 in prison with Madame Fontenoy, of the army 
 the eloquent and beautiful friend of °^ ^^^h- 
 Tallien : and she was an acknowledged favour- 
 ite of Barras, at that period the leading character 
 of the Directory ; though, with his usual volatil- 
 ity, he was not sorx}' of an opportunity of estab- 
 lishing her in marriage with the young general ;J 
 and his influence, after the fall of Robespierre, 
 promised to be of essential importance to the ri- 
 sing officer. He married her on the 9lh of 
 March, 1796; he himself being in the twenty- 
 sixth, and she in the twenty-eighth year of her 
 age. At the same time, he laid before the Direc- 
 tory a plan for the Italian campaign, so remark- 
 able for its originality and genius as to attract 
 the especial notice of the illustrious Camot, then 
 minister at war. The imited influence of these 
 two directors, and the magnitude of the obliga- 
 tion which Napoleon had conferred upon them, 
 prevailed. With Josephine he received the com- 
 mand of the Italian armies ; and twelve da5's 
 after set out for the Alps, taking with him two 
 thousand louis-d'or for the use of the army, the 
 whole specie which the treasurj' could furnish- 
 The instructions of the Director}' were, to do all 
 in his power to revolutionize Piedmont, and so 
 intimidate the other Italian powers ; to violate 
 the neutrality of Genoa ; seize the forts of Savo- 
 na ; compel the senate to furnish him with pecu- 
 niar}' supplies, and suiTender the keys of Gavi, 
 a fortress perched on a rocky height, command- 
 ing the pass of the Bocchetta. In case of refu- 
 sal, he was directed to carr}' it by assault. His 
 powers were limited to militar}' operations, and 
 the Director}' reserved to themselves the exclu- 
 sive power of concluding treaties of peace or 
 truce: a limitation which was speedily disre- 
 
 lifted up a second time ; I called out ' pierre,' upon which 
 she evinced the greatest joy at perceiving that her signs 
 were understood. Joining, then, the stone to her robe, she 
 eagerly imitated the motion of cutting off the neck, and im- 
 mediately began to dance, and evince the most extravagant 
 joy. This singular pantomime awakened in our minds a 
 vague hope that possibly Roliespierre might be no more. 
 
 " At this moment, when we were floating between hope 
 and fear, we heard a great noise in the corridor, and the 
 terrible voice of our jailer, who said to his dog. giving him^ 
 at the same time, a kick, ' Get on, you cursed Robespierre.' 
 That coarse phrase at once taught us that we had nothing' 
 to fear, and that France was saved." — Mem. de Josephine, 
 i. 252 253. 
 '* Hour., i., 101 ; viii., 372. Scott, iii., 83. 
 t " Josephine," said Napoleon, " was grace personified. 
 Everything she did was with a grace and delicacy peculiar 
 to herself. I never saw her act inelegantly the whole time 
 we lived together. Her toilet was a perfect arsenal ; and 
 she effectually defended herself against the assauIt.<of time."' 
 — O'Meara, "ii., 101. t Hard., in., 301. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 397 
 
 gardcd by the enterprising genius of the young 
 conqueror.* 
 
 At this period the military forces of the Italian 
 states amounted to one hundred and sixty thou- 
 sand men under arms, which could with case 
 have raised, fiom a population of nineteen mill- 
 ions, three hundred thousand. But, with the ex- 
 ception of the Piedmontese troops, this military 
 array was of no real use : except when led on by 
 French officers, the soldiers of the other Italian 
 states have never been able to bear the sight of 
 the French or Austrian bayonets."t 
 
 Bitterly did Italy suffer lor this decay in her 
 _ , . national spirit, and extinction of her 
 which"the military courage. With the French 
 French inva- invasion commenced a long period 
 sion brought of suffering : tyranny under the name 
 on Italy. ^j- j j^gj-ty . rapine under the name of 
 generosity ; excitement among the poor, spolia- 
 tion among the rich ; clamour in public against 
 the nobility, and adulation of them in private ; 
 use made of the lovers of freedom by those who 
 despised them; and revolt against tyranny by 
 those who aimed only at being tyrants; general 
 praise of liberty in words, and universal extinc- 
 tion of it in action; the stripping of churches; 
 the robbery of hospitals ; the levelling of the pal- 
 aces of the great, and the destruction of the cot- 
 tages of the poor; all that military licen.se has 
 of most terrible, all that despotic authority has 
 of most oppressive. Then did her people feel 
 that neither riches of soil nor glories of recollec- 
 tion, neither a southern sun nor the perfection 
 of art, can save a nation from destruction if it 
 has lost the vigour to inherit or the courage to 
 defend them.: 
 
 When Napoleon assumed the command of the 
 
 o. » r.». army in the end of March, he found 
 state of the -' ,, . ... ' . , , 
 
 French army eveiythmg in the most miserable 
 when Napo- State. The efficient force under 
 leon took the arms and ready lor offensive opera- 
 M°rSi"'i'79?'' tions did not exceed forty-two thou- 
 ' ' sand men; but it was continually 
 re-enforced by troops from the depots in the inte- 
 rior after Napoleon's successes commenced; so 
 that, notwithstanding the losses of the campaign, 
 it was maintained throughout at that amount. 
 The artillery did not exceed sixty pieces, and 
 the cavalry was almost dismounted ; but the gar- 
 risons in the rear, amounting to eight thousand 
 men, could I'urnish supplies when the war was 
 removed from the I'rontier, and the arsenals of 
 Nice and Antibes were well provided with artil- 
 ler}^ For a very long period the soldiers of all 
 ranks had suffered tlie extremity of want. Perch- 
 ed on the inhospitable summits of the Apennines, 
 they had enjoyed neither tents nor shelter; mag- 
 azines they had none; the troops had, for a long 
 time, been placed on half a ration a day, and 
 even this scanty supply was for the most part 
 procured by marauding expeditions of the sol- 
 diers into the neighbouring valleys. The ofli- 
 cers,_from the effect of the depreciation of paper, 
 had for years received only eight francs a month 
 of pay;' and the staff was' entirely on foot. On 
 one occasion, the Directory had awarded a grat- 
 ification of three louis d'ofto each general of di- 
 vision; and the future marshals and princes of 
 the Empire subsisted for long on the humble 
 present. But, considered with reterence to their 
 skill and warlike qualities, the army presented 
 a very different aspe'ct, and were, beyond all ques- 
 
 * Hard., iii.. 302, 303. Las Cas.. i., 173. Bonr.. j., 103. 
 Scott, ill.. 83. 84. t Th., viii., 220. Nan., ni., 129, 130. 
 t Bot., i., 293. 
 
 tion, the most efficient one which the Republic 
 possessed. Composed, for the most part, of 
 young soldiers, whom the great levies of 1793 
 had brought into the field, they had been inured 
 to hardship and privations during the subsequent 
 campaigns in the Pyrenees and Maritime Alps: 
 a species of warfare which, by leading detached 
 parties continually into dillicult and perilous sit- 
 uations, is singularly calculated to strengthen 
 the frame and augment the intelligence of the 
 soldier. '• Poverty," says Napoleon, " priva- 
 tions, misery, are the school of good soldiers." 
 Its spirit had been greatly elevated by the suc- 
 cessful result of the battle of Loano ; and its 
 chiefs, Massena, Augereau, Serrurier, and Ber- 
 thier, had already become distinguished, and, 
 like stars in the firmament on the approach of 
 twilight, began to give token of their future 
 light.* 
 
 Berthier, above Ibrty years of age, son of a 
 geographical artist, was chief of the character of 
 stafi' a situation which he continued its officers: 
 to hold in all the campaigns of Na- Berthier. 
 poleon down to the battle of Waterloo. Active, 
 indefatigable alike on horseback and in the cab- 
 inet, he was admirably qualified to discharge the 
 duties of that important situation, without being 
 possessed of the originality and decision requi- 
 site for a commander-in-chief He was periect- 
 ly master of the geography of every country 
 which the army was to enter, understood thor- 
 oughly the use of maps, and could calculate, 
 with admirable precision, the time requisite for 
 the different corps to arrive at the ground as- 
 signed to them, as well as direct, in a lucid man- 
 ner, the course they were to pursue.t 
 
 Massena, a native of Nice, was a lieutenant 
 in the regiment of Roval Italians when 
 the Revolution broke but, but rose rap- ™=''**'^"*- 
 idly to the rank of general of division. Gifted 
 by nature with a robust frame, indefatigable in 
 exertion, unconquerable in resolution, he was to 
 be seen night and day on horseback, among the 
 rocks and the mountains. Decided, brave, and 
 intrepid, full of ambition, his leading character- 
 istic was obstinacy: a quality which, according 
 as it is right or wrong directed, leads to the 
 greatest successes or the most ruinous disasters, 
 tlis conversation gave few indications of ge- 
 nius; but at the first cannon-shot his mental en- 
 ergy redoubled, and when surrounded by danger, 
 his thoughts were clear and forcible. In the 
 mid.st of the dying and the dead, of balls sweep- 
 ing away those who encircled him, Massena 
 was himself, and gave his orders with the great- 
 est coolness and precision. Even after defeat, 
 he recommenced the struggle as if he had come 
 oft' victorious, and by these means saved the 
 Republic at the battle of Zurich. But these 
 great qualities were disfigured by as great vices. 
 He was rajiacious, sordid, and avaricious; sha- 
 red the profits of the contractors and commissa- 
 ries, and never could keep himself clear from 
 acts of peculation.; 
 
 Augereau, bom in the Faubourg St. Marceau, 
 shared in the opinions of the Democrat- 
 ic quarter from which he sprung. He 
 had served with distinction both in La Vendee 
 and the Pyrenees. With little education, hardly 
 any knowledge, no reach of mind, he was yet 
 beloved by the solliers, from the order and disci- 
 pline which he always enforced. His attacks 
 
 * N'ap., iii.. I3.i, ]36. 151. Jom., viii., 57. 59. Hard., 
 iii., 303. Th., viii., 2'jn, 221. t Nap., iii., 165. 
 
 t Nap., ii;., IS". O'.Meara, i., 239. 
 
398 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 ■were conducted with conrage and regularity, and 
 he led his columns with invincible resolution 
 during the fire ; but he had not the moral firm- 
 ness requisite lor lasting success, and was fre- 
 quently thrown into unreasonable dejection short- 
 ly after liis greatest triumphs. His political 
 opinions led him to sympathize with the extreme 
 Republicans ; but no man was less fitted by na- 
 ture either to understand or shine in the civil 
 contests in which he was always so desirous to 
 engage.* 
 
 Serrurier, bom in the department of the Aisne, 
 was a major at the commencement of 
 errurier. ^^^ Revolution, and incurred many 
 dangers in its early wars, from the suspicion of 
 a secret leaning to the aristocracy, under which 
 he laboured. He was brave in person, finn in 
 conduct, and severe in discipline; but, though 
 he gained the battle of Mondovi and took Man- 
 tua, he was not, in general, fortunate in his op- 
 erations, and became a marshal of France with 
 less military glory than any of his other illustri- 
 ous compeers.t 
 
 On the other hand, the allies had above fifty 
 thousand men and 200 pieces of can- 
 
 aut^d forces. ^^^' ^^^'^"1^ ^^'^ Sardinian army, of 
 twenty-four thousand, guarded the 
 avenues of Dauphine and Savoy, and was oppo- 
 sed to the anny of Kellerman of nearly equal 
 strength. Their forces were thus distributed: 
 Beaulieu, a veteran of seventy-five, with thirty 
 thousand combatants, entirely Austrians, and 
 140 pieces of cannon, was on the extreme right 
 of the French, and in communication with the 
 English fleet; while Colli, with tVN-enty thousand 
 men and sixty pieces, was in a line with him to 
 the north, and co\'ered Ceva and Coni.: Gen- 
 erall}' speaking, the French occupied the crest 
 of the mountains, while the allies were stationed 
 in the valleys leading into the Italian plains. 
 Napoleon arrived at Is ice on the 27th of March 
 
 Napoleon's 
 
 and soon gave indications of the 
 
 first proclama- great designs which he was medita- 
 tion to his sol- ting, by the following striking proc- 
 diers. lamation to his troops: '-Soldiers! 
 
 3'ou are almost naked, half starved : the govern- 
 ment owes you much, and can give you nothing. 
 Your patience, your courage in the midst of 
 these rocks are admirable, but they reflect no 
 splendour on your arms. I am about to con- 
 duct you into the most fertile plains on the earth. 
 Fertile provinces, opulent cities, will soon be in 
 your power : there you will find rich harvests, 
 honour, and glory. Soldiers of Italy, will you 
 fail in courage T'§ 
 The plan of the young general was to pene- 
 frate into Piedmont by the Col de 
 ?Jl%,^nJ^ Cadibone. the lowest part of the 
 
 the campaign. ., ,.,,.., _,' ^ -. 
 
 ndge which dundes France irom It- 
 aly, and separate the Austrian from the Pied- 
 montese armies, by pressing with the weight of 
 his forces on the weak cordon which united 
 lliem. For this purpose, it was necessary that 
 the bulk of the troops should assemble on the ex- 
 treme right : a delicate and perilous operation in 
 presence of a superior enemy, but which w-as 
 rendered comparatively safe by the snow which 
 encumbered the lofty ridges that separated the 
 two armies. Early in April, the whole French 
 columns were in motion tow^ards Genoa, while 
 the French minister demanded from the senate 
 of that city leave to pass the Bocchetta and the 
 
 Battle of 
 Montenotte. 
 
 * Nap., iii.,]88. t Ibid., 190. 
 
 t Th.. viii.. 2-23. Jom., viii., 57. Nap., iii.. 134, 136. 
 Hard., iii., 304, 305. * Nap., iii., 136. 
 
 keys of Gavi, that being the chief route from the 
 maritime coasts to the interior of Piedmont. At 
 the same time, Beaulieu, in obedience to the di- 
 rections of the Aulic Council, was, on his side, 
 resuming the ofl^ensive, and directing his col- 
 umns also towards his own left at Genoa, with a, 
 view to establish a connexion with that impor- 
 tant city and the English fleet. He left his right 
 wing at Dego, pushed his centre, under D'Argen- 
 teau, to the ridge of Montenotte, and himself 
 advanced with his left, by Bocchetta and Genoa, 
 towards Voltii, along the seacoast.* 
 
 The two annies, respectively defiling towards 
 the seacoast through the higher Alps, 
 came into contact at Montenotte : the 
 Austrian general having advanced his 
 centre to that place, in order to cut asunder the 
 French force, by falling on its left flank, and in- 
 tercept, by occupying Savona, the road by the 
 Cornice, which they were pursuing, from Prov- 
 ence to Genoa. The Imperialists, ten thousand 
 strong, encountered at Montenotte only Colonel 
 Rampon, at the head of twelve hundred men, 
 whom they forced to retire to the Monte Prato 
 and the old redoubt of Monte Legino ; but this 
 brave officer, feeling the vital importance of this 
 post to the whole army, which, if lost, would 
 have been cut in two, defended the fort with he- 
 roic courage, repeatedly repulsed the impetuous 
 attacks of the Austrians, and, in the midst of the 
 fire, made his soldiers swear to conquer or die. 
 With great difficulty he maintained his ground 
 till nightfall, and by this heroism saved the 
 French army. The brave Roccavina, who com- 
 manded the Imperialists, was severely wounded 
 in the last assault, and forced to be removed to 
 Montenotte. Before retiring, he strenuously ur- 
 ged his successor, D'Argenteau, to renew the at- 
 tack diuing the night, and gain possession of the 
 fort before the distant aid of the Republicans 
 could advance to its relief; but this advice that 
 officer, not equally penetrated with the value of 
 time and the vital importance of that position,t 
 declined to follow. If he had adopted it, and 
 succeeded, the fate of the campaign and of the 
 world might have been changed. 
 
 When this attack was going forward, Napo- 
 leon was at Savona ; but no sooner 
 did he receive intelligence of it than fhe*^rreiich 
 he resolved to envelop the Austrian 
 force, which had thus pushed into the centre 
 of his line of march. With this view, having 
 stationed Cervoni to make head against Beau- 
 lieu in front of Voltri, he himself set out after 
 sunset from Savona with the divisions of Mas- 
 sena and Serrurier, and, having crossed , . ,„ 
 I the ridge of Cadibone, occupied the ^'^' 
 heights in rear of Montenotte. The night wa.s 
 dark and tempestuous, which entirely concealed 
 their movements from the Austrians. At day- 
 I break the latter found themselves surrounded on 
 i all sides. La Harpe and Rampon attacked them 
 I in front, while iVIassena and Joubert pressed 
 ; their rear ; they resisted long and bravely, but 
 I were at length broken by superior force, and 
 completely routed, with the loss of five pieces 
 of cannon, two thousand prisoners, and above 
 one thousand killed and wounded. This great 
 success paralyzed the movements of Beaulieu, 
 who had advanced unopposed beyond Voltri ; he 
 hastened back with the bulk of his forces to 
 
 * Jom., Tiii., 64. Nap., iii., 138. Th., viii., 138, S24. 
 Hard., iii., 307. 
 
 t .Inm.. viii., 60. Th.. Tiii., 226. Bot., i., 306. Hard, 
 ui., 311, 312. Nap., iii., 139. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 399 
 
 Millesimo, but such ^ras the circuit they were 
 obliged to take, tJiat it was two days before he 
 anived at that place to support the ruined centre 
 of his line.* 
 
 This victory, by opening to the French the 
 plains of Pietiinont, and piercing the centre of 
 the allies, completely separated the Austrian and 
 Sardinian armies ; the former concentrated at 
 Dego to cover tlie road to Milan, and the latter 
 around Millesimo, to protect the entrance into 
 Piedmont. iNapoleon, in possession of a cen- 
 tral position, resolved to attack them both at 
 once, although, by drawing together their detach- 
 2nents from all quarters, they had more than re- 
 paired the losses of Montenotte. On the I3th, 
 
 Augereau, on the left, assailed the for- 
 MUlerinu.. ^^^ "^ MiUesimo, where the Piedmont- 
 
 ese were posted, while the divisions of 
 Massena and La Hai"pe descended the valley 
 and moved towards Dego. With such fury was 
 the attack on the Piedraontese conducted, that 
 the passes were forced, and General Provera, 
 "who commanded, was driven, with two thousand 
 men, into the ruins of the old castle of Cossaria. 
 He was immediately assaulted there by superior 
 forces ; but the Piedmontese, skilled in mountain 
 Avarfare, poured down upon their adversaries 
 such a shower of stones and rocks, that whole 
 companies were swept away at once, and Jou- 
 bert, who was in front, animating the soldiers, 
 was severely -wounded. After many ineffectual 
 efforts, the Pk,epublicans desisted on the approach 
 of night, and intrenched themselves at the foot 
 of the eminence on which the castle was situa- 
 ted, to prev^ent the escape of the garrison. The 
 April 14 following day was decisive; Colli and 
 the Pieclmontese on the left made repeat- 
 ed efforts to disengage Provera, but their exer- 
 tions were in vain ; and, after seeing all their 
 columns repulsed, that brave officer, destitute of 
 provisions and water, was compelled to lay down 
 his arms, with fifteen hundred men. Mean- 
 Avhile. Napoleon himself, with the divisions of 
 Massena and La Harpe, attacked 
 ego. jjjjj carried Dego after an obstinate 
 resistance, while Joubert made himself master 
 of the heights of Biestro. The retreat of the 
 Austrians was obstructed by tlie artillery, which 
 blocked up the road in the defile of Spegno, and 
 the soldiers had no other resource but to disperse 
 and seek their safety on the mountains. Thir- 
 teen pieces of artillery and three thousand pris- 
 oners fell into the hands of the victors. No 
 .sooner was this success achieved, than the inde- 
 fatigable conqueror moved forward the division 
 of Augereau, now disengaged by the surrender 
 of Provera, to the important heights of Monte 
 Zemolo, the occupation of which completed tlie 
 separation of the Austrian and Piedmontese ar- 
 mies. Beaulieu retired to Acqui, on the road to 
 Milan, and Colli towards Ceva, to cover Turin.t 
 Meanwhile the brave Wukassowich, at the 
 Bold advance head of six thousand Austrian gren- 
 of Wukasso- adiers, made a movement vrhich, if 
 ''"'^^ '° ^"^s"- supported, might have completely 
 re-established the affairs of\he allies. Separated 
 from the body of the imperial forces, he advan- 
 ced to Dego, with the intention of forming a 
 junction with D'Argenteau, who he imagined 
 still occupied that place. Great was his sur- 
 prise when he found it in the hands of the ene- 
 my; but instantly taking his resolution, like a 
 
 * Nap., hi., 141. Th.. vr.i., 227. Jom., Tiii., 70, 73. 
 t Nai).,iii, 143, 144. Th., vm.,229,230. Hard., iu., 312, 
 315. 
 
 brave man. he attacked and carried the place, 
 making prisoners six hundred French, and re- 
 gaining all the artillery lost on the preceding 
 day. But this success not being supported by 
 the other divisions of the Austrian arujy, which 
 were in full retreat, only led to the destruction 
 of the brave men who had achieved it. Napo- 
 leon instantly returned to the spot, and commen- 
 ced a vigorous attack with superior -y^rj^j^.^ ^^ ^^^^^ 
 Ibrces. They were received with successful, be- 
 such gallantry by the Austrians, ingunsui.port- 
 that the Republican columns were e*^' "' length 
 in the first instance repulsed in dis- "' *■■ 
 order, and the general-in-chief hastened to the 
 spot to restore the combat ; but at length General 
 Lanusse, putting his hat on the point of his 
 sword, led them back to the charge and carried 
 the place, with the loss of fifteen hundred men 
 to the Imperialists, who escaped with difficulty 
 by the road to Acqui, after abandoning all the 
 artillery they had retaken. In this action Napo- 
 leon was particularly struck by the gallantry of 
 a young chief of battalion, whom he made a 
 colonel on the spot, and who continued ever afler 
 the companion of his glory. His name was 
 Lannes, afterward Duke of Montebello, and 
 one of the most heroic marshals of the Empire. ♦t 
 
 After the battle of Dego, La Harpe's division 
 was placed to keep the shattered re- ^f^ival of the 
 mains of Beaulieu's forces in check. Republicans 
 while the weight of the army was onthehe%ht» 
 moved against the Sardinian troops. °^ Monte Ze- 
 Augereau drove the Piedmontese 
 from the heights of Monte Zemolo, and soon af- 
 ter the main body of the army arrived upon the 
 sam.e ridge. From thence the eye could discov- 
 er the immense and fertile plains of Piedmont. 
 The Po, the Tanaro, the Stura, and a multitude 
 of smaller streams, were descried in the distance, 
 while a glittering girdle of snow and ice, of a 
 prodigious elevation, surrounded from afar the 
 promised land. It was a sublime spectacle 
 when the troops arrived on this elevated point, 
 and the soldiers, exhausted with fatigue, and 
 overwhelmed with the grandeur of the sight, 
 pauzed and gazed on the plains beneath. These 
 gigantic barriers, apparently the limits of the 
 world, which nature had rendered so formidable, 
 and on which art had lavished its treasures, had 
 fallen as if by enchantment. " Hannibal," said 
 Napoleon, fixing his eyes on the mountains, 
 " has forced the Alps, but we have turned them." 
 Soon after the troops descended the ridge, passed 
 the Tanaro, and found themselves in the Italian 
 plains.! 
 
 Serrurier was now detached b}' the bridge of 
 St. Michael to turn the right of Colli, w-ho occu- 
 pied the intrenched camp of Geva, while Mas- 
 sena passed the Tanaro to turn his left. The 
 Piedmontese, who were about eight thousand 
 strong, defended the camp in the first instance 
 with success ; but, finding their communications 
 on the point of being lost, they retired in the 
 night, and took a position behind the deep and 
 
 * Jom., viii., 85. Nap., iii., 145. 
 
 + " The talent of Lannes," said Napoleon, " was equal to 
 his bravery. He was at once the Roland of the army and u 
 giant in capacity.* He had ^eat experience in war, had 
 l)een in fifty-four'pitched battles, and three hundred combats. 
 He was cool in the midst of fire, and possessed a clear, pen- 
 etrating eye, ready to take advantage of any opportunity 
 which might present itself. Violent and hasty in his tem- 
 per, sometimes even in my presence, he was yet ardently 
 attached to me. As a general, he was greatly superior to 
 Moreau or Soult."— O'Meaka, i.. 239. 
 
 t Nap., iii.. 147. Th.. yiii., 233. 
 
 * Ut Cas., ii., 374. D'Abr., Ti., 326, 
 
400 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 rapid torrent of the Cursaglia. There they were 
 i9th April assailed, on the Ibllowing day, by Ser- 
 Aetiousuf rurier, who I'orced the bridge of St. 
 Serrurier ]\Iichael; while Joubert, who had wa- 
 ■withCuUi. (jg^ through the torrent farther up, in 
 vain endeavoured to induce his followers to pass, 
 and was obliged, after incurring ttie greatest 
 risks, to retire. Relieved now from all anxiety 
 about his Hank, Colli fell, with all his forces, on 
 Serrurier, and, after a severe action, drove him 
 back again over the bridge, with the loss of six 
 hundred men.* 
 
 This check exposed Napoleon to imminent 
 danger. Colli occupied a strong posi- 
 Daagcr of jj^j^ gj Mondovi in his front, while 
 Kapoieon. j3gjj^^ijg^_ ^^.jtl^ an army still formida- 
 ble, was in his rear, and might easily resume 
 •offensive operations. A council of war was 
 held in the night, at which it was unanimously 
 resolved, notwithstanding the fatigue of the 
 troops, to resume the attack on the following 
 day. All the dispositions, accordingly, were 
 made for a renewed assault on the bridge, with 
 increased forces; but, on arriving at the advan- 
 ced posts at daybreak, they found them abandon- 
 ed by the enemy, who had fought only in order 
 to gain time for the evacuation of the magazines 
 in his rear, and had retired in the night to Mon- 
 21st A ril '^°^'^- ^^ ^^'^^ overtaken, liowever, in 
 ""^ ' his retreat, near Mondovi, by the inde- 
 fatigable victor, who had seized a strong posi- 
 tion, where he hoped to arrest the enemy. The 
 Republicans immediately advanced to the as- 
 sault, and, though Sermrier was defeat- 
 Mondovr*^ ed in the centre by the brave grenadiers 
 of Dichat, yet that courageous general 
 having been struck dead by a cannon ball at the 
 moment when his troops, somewhat disordered 
 by success, were assailed in flank by superior 
 forces, the Piedmontese were thrown into con- 
 fusion, and Serrurier, resuming the oftensive, 
 attacked and carried the redoubt of Bicoque, the 
 principal defence of the position, and completed 
 the victory. Colli retired to Cherasco, with the 
 loss of two thousand men, eight cannon, and 
 eleven standards. Thither he was followed by 
 Napoleon, who occupied that town, which, 
 though fortiiied, and important by its position at 
 the confluence of the Stura and the Tanaro, was 
 not armed, and incapable of resistance ; and, by 
 so doing, not only acquired a firm looting in the 
 interior" of Piedmont, but made himself master 
 of extensive magazines.t 
 
 This important success speedily changed the 
 Imm"nso situation of the French army. Hav- 
 advantaoes i"? descended from the steril and in- 
 gained by hospitable summits of the Alps, they 
 the French found themselves, though still among 
 oVratmns ^^^ mountains, in communication with 
 the rich and fertile plains of Italy ; pro- 
 visions were obtained in abundance, and with 
 the introduction of regularity in the supplies, the 
 pillage and disorders consequent upon prior pri- 
 vations disappeared. The soldiers, animated 
 ■with success, speedily recovered from theii' fa- 
 tigues ; the stragglers, and those left behind in 
 the mountains, rejoined their colours; and the 
 bands of conscripts from the depots in the inte- 
 rior eagerly pressed forward to share in the glo- 
 ries and partake the spoils of the Italian army. 
 In a short time the Republicans, notwithstanding 
 all their losses, were as strong as at the com- 
 
 ♦ Th., viii., 2.S3. Jom., viii., 88, 91. Hard., iii., 319. 
 t Th., \'iii., 234. Kaji., iii., 150. Jom., yiii , 92, 95. 
 
 mencement of the campaign ; while the allies, 
 besides iiaving been driven Irom the ridge of the 
 Alps, the barrier of Piedmont, were weakened 
 by the loss of above twelve thousand men and 
 lorty pieces of cannon.* 
 
 I'he court of Turin was now in the utmost 
 consternation, and opinions were vio- Consternation 
 lenily divided as to the course which of tiie court 
 should be pursued. The ministers "^ Turin, 
 of Austria and England urged the king, who was 
 by no means deficient in firmness, to imitate the 
 glorious example of his ancestors, and abandon 
 his capital. But, as a preliminary to so decided 
 a step, they insisted that the Ibrtresses of Tortona, 
 Alexandria, and Valentia should be put into the 
 possession of the Austrians, in order to give 
 Beaulieu a solid footing on the Po ; and to this 
 sacrifice in favour of a rival power he could not 
 be brought to submit. At length the They resolve 
 Cardinal Costa persuaded him to to submit to 
 throw himself into the arms of the France. 
 French, and Colli was authorized to open nego- 
 tiations. This was one of the numerous instan- 
 ces in the history of Napoleon in which his 
 audacity not only extricated him from the most 
 perilous situations, but gave him the most splen- 
 did triumphs; for at this period, by his own ad- 
 mission, the French army was in very critical 
 circumstances. He had neither heavy cannon 
 nor a siege equipage to reduce Turin, Alexan- 
 dria, or the other numerous Ibrtresses of Pied- 
 mont, without the possession of which it would 
 have been extremely hazardous to have penetra- 
 ted farther into the country: the allied armies, 
 united, were still superior to the French, and 
 their cavalry, of such vital importance in the 
 plains, had not at all sulfered; while his own 
 troops, confounded at their own achievements, 
 and as yet unaccustomed to his rapid success, 
 were beginning to hesitate as to the expedience 
 of any farther advance. "The King of Sardinia," 
 says Napoleon, "had still a great number of 
 ibrtresses left, and in spite of the victories which 
 had been gained, the slightest check, one caprice 
 of fortune, would have undone ever}-thing."T 
 
 It was, therefore, with the most lively satisfac- 
 tion that Napoleon received the ad- 
 vances of the Sardinian government ; j'J^o'Jj'^iJ^,. 
 but he insisted that, as a preliminary 
 to any armistice, the fortresses of C'oni, Tortona, 
 and Alexandria should be put into his hands. 
 The Piedmontese commissioners were at first 
 disposed to resist this demand ; but Napoleon 
 sternly replied, " It is for me to impose condi- 
 tions — your ideas are absurd : listen to the laws 
 ■which I impose upon you, in the name of the 
 government of my country, and obc)^, or to-mor- 
 rov.- my batteries are erected, and Turin is in 
 flames." These words so intimidated the Pied- 
 montese, that they returned in consternation to 
 their capital, where ever}'- opposition speedily 
 gave way- After .some negotiation, the treaty 
 was concluded, the principal conditions of which 
 were, that the King of Sardinia shouM abandon 
 the alliance, and send an ambassador to Paris to 
 conclude a definitive peace; that in the mean 
 time Ceva, Coni, and Tortona, or, fail- 27thA ril 
 ing it, Alexandria, should be delivered ' ^" ' 
 up to the French anny, with all the artiller)^ and 
 magazines they contained ; that the victors should 
 continue to occupy all the positions which at 
 present were in their possession; that Valentia 
 
 * .Torn., viii., fi6. Nap., iii, 150. 
 
 t Nnp.. iii., 151, 152, 193. Hard., iii.. 323, 326. Jom., 
 viii., 96, 97. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 401 
 
 should be instantly ceded to the French in lieu 
 of the Neapolitans; that the militia should be 
 disbanded, and the regular troops dispersed in 
 the tbnilied places, so as to give no umbrage to 
 the French.* 
 The armistice was followed, a fortnight afler, 
 by the treaty of peace between the 
 May 15 1796. j^j ^f Sardinia and the Frencli 
 treaty of peace Ilepublic. by it his bardinian 
 between majesty linally renounced the coal- 
 
 France and jtion ; ceded to the Republic. Savoy, 
 ardinia. Nice, and the whole possessions of 
 Piedmont to the westward of the highest ridge 
 of the Alps (extending from Mount St. Ber- 
 nard by Mount Geneva to Roccabarbonas near 
 Genoa) ; and granted a liee passage through his 
 dominions to all the troops of the R.epublic. The 
 importance of this accommodation may be judged 
 by the letter of Napoleon to the Directory the day 
 the armistice was signed : '• Coni, Ceva, and 
 Alexandria.are in the hands of our army; if you 
 do not ratify the convention, I will keep these 
 fortresses, and march upon Turin. Meanwhile, 
 I shall march to-morrow against Beaulieu, and 
 drive him across the Po; I shall follow close at 
 Lis heels, overrun all Lombardy, and in a month 
 be in the Tyrol, join the army of the Rhine, and 
 -carry our united forces into Bavaria. That de- 
 sign is worthy of you, of the army, and of the 
 destinies of France. If you continue your con- 
 fidence in me, I shall answer for the results, and 
 Italy is at your feet."t 
 
 This treaty was of more service to the French 
 its immense general than many victories. It gave 
 importance to him a firm footing in Piedmont; ar- 
 Napoleoa. tillery and stores for the siege of Tu- 
 rin, if the final conditions should not be agreed 
 to by the Directory ; stores and magazines in 
 abundance, and a direct communication with 
 Genoa and France for the future supplies of the 
 army. Napoleon, from the solid base of the 
 Piedmontese fortresses, was enabled to turn his 
 imdivided attention to the destruction of the Aus- 
 trians, and thus commence, with some security, 
 that great career of conquest which he already, 
 meditated in the imperial dominions. Never- 
 theless, a large proportion of his troops and offi- 
 cers openly condemned the conclusion of any 
 treaty of peace with a monarchical government, 
 and insisted that the opportunity should not have 
 been suffered to escape of establishing a revolu- 
 tionary government in the frontier state of Italy. 
 But Napoleon — whose head was too .strong to be 
 carried away by the fumes of Democracy, and 
 who already gave indications of that resolution 
 to detach himself from the cause of revolution by 
 which he was ever after so strongly distinguish- 
 ed — replied, that the first duty of the army was to 
 secure a firm base for I'uture operations; that it 
 was on the Adige that the French standard must 
 be established to protect Italy from the Imperial- 
 ists ; that it was impossible to advance thus far 
 without being secured in their rear ; that a revo- 
 lutionary government in Piedmont would require 
 constant assistance, scatter alarm through Italy, 
 and be a source of weakness rather than strength ; 
 whereas the Sardinian fortresses at once put the 
 Republicans in possession of the keys of the 
 Peninsula.: 
 
 At the same time, he despatched his aid-de- 
 camp, Murat, with the standards taken, to Paris, 
 
 * Nap., iii.. 155. Hard., iii.. 328. Jom.. viii., 93. 
 t Conesp. Secrete de Nap., 2Sth Aoril, 1796. Jom., viii 
 102. i Naj)., iii., 157, 161. Th., viii., 237. 
 
 Vol. I.— E e e 
 
 and addressed to his soldiers one of ujg triumph- 
 those exaggerated but eloquent proc- am procla- * 
 lamations, which contributed as much mation to tiis 
 as his victories, by captivating the soli^'efs. 
 minds of men, to his astonishing success. 
 "Soldiers! j'ou have gained, in fifteen days, six 
 victories, taken one-and-twenty standards, fifty- 
 five pieces of cannon, many strong places, and 
 con(juered the richest part of Piedmont ; you 
 have made fifteen thousand prisoners, killed or 
 wounded ten thousand men. Hitherto you have 
 fought on steril rocks, illustrious, indeed, by 
 your courage, but of no avail to your country; 
 now you rival, by your services, the armies of 
 the Rhine and the north. Destitute at first, you 
 have supplied everything. You have gained 
 battles without cannon; passed rivers without 
 bridges : made Ibrced marches without shoes ; 
 bivouacked without bread ! The phalanxes of 
 the Republic — the soldiers of liberty — were alone 
 capable of such sacrifices. But, soldiers, you 
 have done nothing while anything remains to do. 
 Neither Turin nor Milan is in your hands; the 
 ashes of the conqueror of Tarquin are still tram- 
 pled on by the assassins of Basseville ! I am told 
 that there are some among you whose courage 
 is giving way — who would rather return to the 
 summits of the Alps and the Apennines. No — I 
 cannot believe it. The conquerors of Monte- 
 notte, of Millesimo, of Dego.of Mondovi, burn to 
 carry still farther the glories of the French 
 name !"'* 
 
 When these successive victories, these stand- 
 ards, these proclamations, anived intoxication a: 
 day after day at Paris, the joy of the Paris on this 
 people knew no bounds. The first intelligence, 
 day the gates of the Alps were opened ; the next, 
 the Austrians were separated from the Pied- 
 montese ; the third, the Sardinian army was de- 
 stroyed and the fortresses surrendered. The ra- 
 pidity of the success, the number of the prison- 
 ers, exceeded all that had yet been witnessed. 
 Every one asked who was this yoimg conquer- 
 or whose fame had burst forth so suddenly, and 
 whose proclamations breathed the spirit of an- 
 cient glor}''! Three times the councils decreed 
 that the army of Italy had deserved well of their 
 country, and appointed a fete to Victory in hon- 
 our of the commencement of the campaign. t 
 
 Having secured his rear by this advantageous 
 treaty, Napoleon lost no time in pur- . 
 suing the discomfited remains of Beau- Napof^on. 
 lieu's army, which had retired behind 
 the Po in the hope of covering the Milanese ter- 
 ritor}\ The forces of the Austrians were plain- 
 ly now unequal to the struggle ; a mup de viain, 
 which Beaulieu attempted on the fortres.ses of 
 Alexandria, ToUona, and Valentia, failed, and 
 they were immediately after surrendered to the 
 Republicans ; while the army of Napoleon was 
 about to be united to the corps of Keller- 
 man, and the division of the Col di ^^' 
 Tende now rendered disposable by the conclu- 
 sion of the armistice, a re-enforcement of above 
 twenty thousand men. Napoleon, on his side, 
 indulged the most brilliant anticipations, and 
 confidently announced to the Directory that he 
 would cross the Po, expel the Austrians from 
 the Milanese ten-itory, traverse the mountains 
 of the Tyrol, unite with the anny of the Rhine, 
 and cany the war, by the valley of the Danube, 
 into the heart of the imperial dominions.:! 
 
 * Th.. viii., 240. t Th., viii., 241. Hard., iii., 338. 
 
 i .Tom., vui., 110, 112. Th., viii., 253. Hard., iii., .S37. 
 >i Napoleon wrote to the Directory at this period : " The. 
 
402 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 By inserting a clause in the treaty with the 
 King of Sardinia, that the French army was to 
 be at liberty to cross the Po at Valentia, he com- 
 pletely deceived the Austrians as to the place 
 where the passage was to be effected. The 
 ■whole attention of Ijeauiieu having been dra-mi 
 to that point, the Republican forces were rapidly 
 moved to Placentia, and began to cross the river 
 _ in boats at that place. Lannes was the 
 
 7th May. g^.^^ ^^^j^^ effected the passage, and the 
 other columns soon crossed with such rapidity 
 Crosses the ^'^^"^ ^ ^^'^'^ footing was established 
 Po, aud pro- on the opposite bank, and two days 
 ceeds against afterward Napoleon arrived with the 
 Beaubeu. ]^^i\^ of ^js forces, and established a 
 bridge. By this skilful march not only the Po 
 ■was passed, but the Ticino turned, as Placentia 
 is below its junction with the former river; so 
 that one great obstacle to the conquest of Lom- 
 bardy was already removed.* 
 
 Beaulieu was now considerably re-enforced, 
 and his forces amounted to thirty-six battalions 
 and forty-four squadrons, besides 120 pieces of 
 cannon, in all nearly forty thousand men. He 
 ■was at Pavia, busily engaged in erecting fortifi- 
 cations, when he received intelligence of the pas- 
 sage at Placentia. He immediately moved for- 
 "ward his advanced guard, consisting of three 
 thousand infantrj' and two thousand horse, under 
 General Liptay, to Fombio, a small town a short 
 distance from "the Republican posts. Napoleon, 
 "who feared that he might be strengthened in this 
 position, and was -well aware of the danger of 
 fighting a general battle with a great river in his 
 rear, lost no time in moving forward his forces 
 to dislodge him. D'AUemagne, at the 
 Fombio. ^' ^^3^ °^ ^^^ grenadiers, attacked on the 
 right ; Lanusse by the chaussee on the 
 centre; and Lannes on the left. After a vigor- 
 ous resistance, the Austrians were expelled from 
 the town with the loss of above a thousand men. 
 Liptay fell back to Pizzighitone.t Meanwhile, 
 Beaulieu was advancing with the bulk of his 
 forces, and the leading division of his army sur- 
 prised General La Harpe in the night, who was 
 killed while bravely fighting at the head of his 
 division, but not before the Austrians had been 
 compelled to retire. 
 
 The French troops having now entered upon 
 Capitulation f^e States of Parma, it was of impor- 
 of the Grand- tance to establish matters on a pacific 
 duke of Par- footing in their rear before pressing 
 ™^- forward to Milan. The grand-duke 
 
 had no military resources whatever ; the victor, 
 therefore, resolved to grant him terms upon the 
 surrender of what he had to give. He was obli- 
 ged to pay 2,000,000 of francs in silver, and to 
 furnish IGOO artillery-horses, of which the amiy 
 stood in great need, besides great supplies of 
 com and provisions. But on this occasion Na- 
 poleon commenced another species of military 
 
 King of Sardinia has surrendered at discretion, given up 
 three of his strongest fortresses, and theh-dlf of his domin- 
 ions. If you do not choose to accept his submission, but re- 
 solve to dethrone him, you must amuse him for a few weeks, 
 and give me warning ; I will get possession of Valentia, and 
 march upon Turin. On the other hand, I shall impose a 
 contribution of some millions on the Duke of Parma, detach 
 twelve thousand men to Rome as soon a.s I have beaten 
 Beaulieu and driven him across the Adise, and when I am 
 assured that you will conclude peace with the King of Sar- 
 dinia, and streng-then me by the army of Kellerman. As 
 to Genoa, by all means oblige it to pay fifteen millions." — 
 Secret Despatch to Directory, 29lh April, 1796. Carres. 
 Secrete de Napoleon, i., 103. 
 
 * Nap., iii., 165. Th., viii , 254, 257. Jom., viii., 116. 
 
 t Th., viii., 258. Nap , lii., 166. Jom., viii., 117. 
 
 contribution, which he has himself confessed was 
 unparalleled in modem warfare, that of exacting 
 from the vanquished the surrender of their most 
 precious works of art. Parma was compelled to 
 give up twenty of its principal paintings, among 
 which was the celebrated St. Jerome by Correg- 
 gio. The duke offered a million of francs as a 
 ransom for that inestimable work of art, which 
 many of his officers urged the French general to 
 accept, as of much more service to the army 
 than the painting; but Napoleon, whose mind 
 was fixed on greater things, replied, " The mill- 
 ion which he offers us Avould soon be spent ; but 
 the possession of such a chef cTanvre at Paris 
 will adom that capital for ages, and give birth to 
 similar exertions of genius."* 
 
 Thus commenced the system of seizing the 
 great works of art in the conquered 
 states, which the French generals ^^rofXpo- 
 afterward carried to such a height, leon's system 
 and which produced the noble gal- of levying coa- 
 leiy of the Louvre. The French tnbutions on, 
 have since had good reason to con- ^^^ ^""^ ^ ° 
 gratulate themselves that the allies 
 did not follow their bad example ; and that, oa 
 occasion of the second capture of Paris they had 
 the generosity to content themselves with enfor- 
 cing restitution of the abstracted spoils, without, 
 like them, compelling the surrender of those that 
 had been legitimately acquired. Certainly it is 
 impossible to condemn too strongly a use of the 
 powers of conquest which extends the ravages 
 of war into the peaceful domain of the fine aits; 
 which transplants the monuments of genius from 
 the regions where they have arisen and where 
 they can rightl)- be appreciated, to those where 
 they are exotics, and their value cannot be un- 
 derstood; which renders them, instead of being 
 the proud legacy of genius to its country, the 
 mere ensign of a victor's glory ; which exposes 
 them to be tossed about by the tide of conquest, 
 and subjected to irreparable injurj' in following 
 the fleeting career of success; and converts 
 ■works destined to elevate and captivate the hu- 
 man race, into the .■subject of angry contention 
 and the trophies of temporary subjugation. 
 
 On the lOth Napoleon marched towards Mi- 
 lan; but, before arriving at that city, he Terrible 
 required to cross the Adda. The bridge passage of 
 of LoDi over that river was held by a the bndge 
 strong rear-guard, consisting of twelve "^Lodi. 
 thousand Austrian infantry and four thousand 
 horse, while the remainder of their forces had 
 retired to Cassano and the neighbourhood of Mi- 
 lan. By a rapid advance, he hoped to cut off the 
 bulk of their troops from the hereditarj' states, 
 and make them prisoners; but, as there was not 
 a moment to be lost in achieving the movements 
 requisite to attain this object, he resolved to force 
 the bridge, and thus get into their rear. He him- 
 self arrived atLodi at the head of the grenadiers 
 of D'AUemagne, upon which the Austrians 
 withdrew from the town, and crossed the river, 
 drawing up their infantry, with twenty pieces of^ 
 cannon, at the farther extremity of the bridge, to 
 defend the passage. Napoleon immediately di- 
 rected Beaumont, with all the cavalry of the 
 army, to pass at a ford half a league farther up, 
 while he himself directed all the artillery which 
 had come up against the Austrian batter^', and 
 formed six thousand grenadiers in close column, 
 under cover of the houses at his o-wn end of the 
 bridge. No sooner did he perceive that the dis- 
 
 Nap., iii., 169. Th., viii., 255. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 408 
 
 charge of the Austrian artillery was beginning? 
 to slacken, from the efiectof the French tire, and 
 that the passage of the cavalry on their Hank had 
 commenced, than he addressed a few animating 
 words to his soldiers, and gave the signal to ad- 
 vance. The grenadiers rushed forward, through 
 a cloud of smoke, over the long and narrow deiile 
 of the bridge. The terrible storm of 
 lOihMay. grapeshot for a moment arrested their 
 progress; but, finding themselves supported by a 
 cloud of tirailleurs, who waded the stream below 
 the arches, and led on by their dauntless general, 
 they soon recovered, and, rushing forward with 
 resistless fur}^, carried the Austiian guns, and 
 drove back their infantry. Had the French cav- 
 alry been ready to profit by the confusion, the 
 whole corps of the Imperialists would have been 
 destroyed ; but, as it had not yet come up, their 
 numerous squadrons protected the retreat of the 
 infantr)', which retired with the loss of two thou- 
 sand men and twenty pieces of cannon. The 
 loss of the victors was at least as great. The 
 object of this bold measure was indeed lost, for 
 the Austrians, whom it had been intended to cut 
 off, had meanwhile gained the chaussee of Bres- 
 cia, and made good their retreat ;* but it contrib- 
 uted greatly to exalt the character and elevate the 
 courage of the Republican troops, by inspiring 
 them with the belief that nothing could resist 
 them ; and it made a deep impression on the 
 mind of Napoleon, who ever after styled it "the 
 terrible passage of the bridge of Lodi." 
 
 The victory at Lodi had an extraordinary ef- 
 fect on the French army. After each success, 
 the old soldiers, who had at first been somewhat 
 distrustful of their young commander, assembled, 
 and gave him a new step of promotion. He was 
 made a corporal at Lodi; and the surname of 
 "La Petit Caporal," thence acquired, was long 
 remembered in the army. When, in 1815, he 
 was met by the battalion sent against him from 
 the fortress of Grenoble, the soldiers, the moment 
 they saw him, exclaimed, "Long live our little 
 corporal! we will never oppose him." Nor did 
 this fearful passage produce a less powerful im- 
 pression on the mind of the general. " The 13th 
 Vendemiaire, and the victory of Montenotte," 
 said Napoleon, "did not induce me to believe 
 myself a superior character. It was after the 
 passage of Lodi that the idea shot across my 
 mind that I might become a decisive actor on 
 the political theatre. Then arose, for the first 
 time, the spark of great ambition. "t 
 After this disaster, Beaulieu retired behind the 
 Mincio, leaving Milan to its fate ; 
 Isapoleon en- j Pizzighitone, with its garrison 
 ters Milan. ^ ^ i i i • , , 
 
 01 five hundred men, capitulated. 
 
 Serrurier was placed at Cremona, from whence 
 he observed the garrison of Mantua, while Auge- 
 reau pushed on from Pizzighitone to Pavia. On 
 the 15th Napoleon made his triumphal entry into 
 Milan at the head of his troops, with all the pomp 
 of war, to the sound of military music, amid the 
 acclamations of an immense concourse of spec- 
 tators, and through the lines of the National 
 Guard, dressed in three colours, in honour of the 
 triumph of the tricolour flag.} 
 
 On this occasion the conqueror addressed to his 
 His proclama- Soldiers another of those heart-stir- 
 tion there to ring proclamations which so power- 
 his troops. fully contributed to electrify the ar- 
 
 * .Tom., viii.. 123, 126. Scolt. iii., 131. Bot., iii., 351. 
 Kap.. iii., 172-174. Th., viii., 260, 261. 
 t LasCas.,i.. 162, 162. 
 } Th., viii., 263. Nap., iii,, 176. Jom., Tiii., 127. 
 
 dent imagination of the Italians, and added so 
 much to (he inlluence of his victories. " Sol- 
 diers ! you have descended like a torrent from the 
 summit of the Apennines; you have overwhelm- 
 ed and dispersed everything which opposed your 
 progress. Piedmont, delivered from the tyranny 
 of Austria, has felt itself at liberty to indulge its 
 natural inclination for peace and for a French 
 alliance: Milan is in your hands; and tlie Re- 
 publican standards wave over the whole of Lom- 
 bardy. The dukes of Parma and Modena owe 
 their existence only to your generosity. The 
 army which menaced you with so much pride, 
 can now no longer find a barrier to protect itself 
 again.st your arms: the Po, the Ticino, the Adda, 
 have not been able to stop you a single day; these 
 boasted bulwarks of Italy have proved as nuga- 
 tory as the Alps. Such a career of success has 
 carried joy into the bosom of your country ; f^tes 
 in honour of your victories have been ordered 
 by the national representatives in all the com- 
 munes of the Republic ; there, your parents, your 
 wives, your sisters, your lovers, rejoice at your 
 success, and glory in their connexion with you. 
 Yes, soldiers, you have indeed done much ; but 
 much still remains to be done. Shall posterity 
 say that we knew how to conquer, but not hov;r 
 to improve victor}' 1 Shall we find a Capua ia 
 Lombardy 1 The hour of vengeance has stnick, 
 but the people of all nations may rest in peace ; 
 we are the friends of every people, and especial- 
 ly of the descendants of Brutus, Scipio, and the 
 other great men whom we have taken for exam- 
 ples. To restore the Capitol ; to replace there 
 the statues of the heroes who h;ive rendered it 
 immortal ; to rouse the Romans from centuries 
 of slaverv' — such will be the fruit of our victories: 
 they will form an era in history ; to 3'ou will be- 
 long the glory of having changed the face of the 
 most beautiful part of Europe. The French peo- 
 ple, free within and dreaded without, will give to 
 Europe a glorious peace, which will indemnify 
 her for all the sacrifices she has made for the last 
 six years. Then you will return to your homes, 
 and your fellow-citizens will say of each of you 
 in passing, ' He was a soldier in the army of 
 Italy!'"* 
 
 Great was the enthusiasm, tmbounded the joy, 
 which these unparalleled success- _ ., . 
 
 J , ^ . J ., J i/nttiusiasm ex- 
 
 es and eloquent words excited cited by these 
 among all that ardent and gener- successes among 
 
 OUS part of the Italian people who the Democratic 
 
 panted for civil liberty and nation- ^"^^' '° ''^'>'- 
 al independence. To them Napoleon appeared 
 as the destined regenerator of Italy, the hero who 
 was to achieve their liberation from transalpine 
 oppression, and bring back the glorious days of 
 Roman virtue. His burning words, his splendid 
 actions, the ancient cast of his thoughts, diffused 
 a universal enchantment. Even the coolest 
 heads began to turn at the brilliant career thus 
 begun by a general not yet six-and-twenty years 
 of age, and the boundless anticipations of future 
 triumph of which he spoke witli prophetic cer- 
 tainty. From every part of Italy the young and 
 the ardent flocked to Milan ; balls and festivities 
 gave token of the universal joy ; every word and 
 look of the conqueror was watched; the patriots 
 compared him to Scipio and Hannibal, and the 
 ladies on the popular side knew no bounds to 
 their adulation. + 
 
 But this illusion was of short duration, and It- 
 aly was soon destined to experience the bitter fafe 
 
 Nap., iii., 178. t Bot., i., 356-358. Th., viii., 265. 
 
404 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 ^ 1 J „' and crael degradation of every people 
 
 ling of the ii- who look lor their deliverance to lor- 
 lusTon by the eign assi-stance. In the midst of the 
 French coa- general joy, a contribution of iwen- 
 tnbutions. jy millions of francs, or i;800,000 
 sterling, struck Milan with astonishment, and 
 wounded the Italians in their tenderest part — their 
 ilomestic and economical arrangements. So 
 enormous a contribution upon a single city seem- 
 ed scarcely possible to be realized ; but the sword 
 of the A'ictor olfered no alternative. Great re- 
 <juisitions were at the same time made of horses 
 for the artillery and cavalrj- in all the Milanese 
 territoiy; and provisions were amassed on all 
 sides at the expense of the inhabitants, for which 
 they received nothing, or Republican paper of no 
 value. Kor did the Duke of Modena 
 ^^' escape more easily. He was compel- 
 led to purchase peace by a contribution of ten 
 .millions of francs in money, or stores for the 
 army, and. to submit to the exaction of twenty 
 paintings from his gallery for the Republican 
 jnuseuiu. Liberated Italy was treated with more 
 .severity than is generally the lot of conquered 
 slates.* 
 Thus commenced the system of " making war 
 support war,'' which contributed so 
 sup'^Jrt'war'' ™"ch to the early success of the Re- 
 publican arms, which compensated 
 for all tlie penur}'- and exhaustion of the Repub- 
 lican territory, which raised to the clouds the 
 glor}' of the Empire, and occasioned with cer- 
 tainty its ultimate destruction. France, abound- 
 ing with men destitute of resources — incapable 
 of supporting war, from the entire stoppage of 
 domestic industry, but teeming with a restless 
 and indigent population — fovvnd in this system 
 the means of advancement and opulence. While 
 the other annies of the Republic were suflering 
 under the horrors of penun,-, and could hardly 
 find food for their support or clothes for their 
 covering, the army of Italy was rolling in opu- 
 lence, and the spoils of vanquished states gave 
 them every enjojonent of life. From that time 
 there w^as no want of soldiers to follow the ca- 
 reer of the conqueror ; the Alps were covered 
 with files of troops pressing forward to the thea- 
 tre of glorj', and all the chasms occasioned by 
 the relentless system of war which he followed 
 were filled up by the multitudes whom the illu- 
 sion of victory brought to his standard.t 
 
 But the Republican soldiers were far from an- 
 ticipating the terrible reverses to which this sys- 
 tem of spoliation was ultimately to lead, or that 
 France was destined to groan under exactions 
 as severe as those she now so liberally inflicted 
 upon others. Clothed, fed, and lodged at the ex- 
 pense of the Milanese, the soldiers pursued with 
 thoughtless eagerness the career of glory which 
 was stretched before them. The artiller}% the 
 cavalry, were soon in the finest condition, and 
 hospitals established for fifteen thousand sick in 
 the different towns in the conquered territorj', for 
 to that immense number had the rapidity of" the 
 inarches and the multiplicity of the combats 
 swelled the ho.spital train. Ha%-ing amply pro- 
 vided for his own army, Napoleon despatched 
 several millions by the route of Genoa for the 
 service of the Directory, and one million over 
 the Alps to Moreau, to relieve the pressing wants 
 of the army of the tipper Rhine.t 
 
 These great successes already began to inspire 
 
 * Th., viii., 265. .Tom., viii., 130. Nap., iii., 183. 
 
 t Th., vjij., 137,265,266. 
 
 i Th., viii., 260. Nap., Cor. Conf., i., 159. 
 
 the French government with jealousy of their 
 lieutenant, and they, in consequence, transmitted 
 an order by which Kellerman, with twenty thou- 
 sand men, was to command on the left bank of 
 the Po, and cover the siege of Mantua, while 
 Napoleon, with the remainder of the forces, was 
 to march upon Rome and Naples. 
 But he was too proud to submit to /eaTous '7^1^' 
 any division of his authority, and power, orders 
 too sagacious not to see that by Napoleon to 
 thus separating the forces, and march to Rome : 
 leaving only a small army in the 
 north of Italy, the Austrians would speedily re- 
 gain their lost ground, drive their inconsiderable 
 opponents over the Alps, and cut off, without the 
 possibility of escape, the corps in the south of 
 the Peninsula. He therefore at once resigned 
 his command, accompanying it with the observa- 
 tion that one bad general is better than two good 
 ones. The Directoiy, however, unable to dis- 
 pense with the senices of their youthful oflicer, 
 immediately reinstated him, and abandoned their 
 project, which was, indeed, in itself so absurd as 
 would have thrown great doubts on the military 
 capacity of Carnot, the minister at war, if it had 
 not, in reality, been suggested by the wish to ex- 
 tinguish the rising ambition of Napoleon. *t 
 
 In less than ten days after the occupation of 
 Milan, national guards in the Republican inter- 
 est were organized in the whole of Lomhardy ; 
 revolutionaiy authorities were everywhere es- 
 tablished, and the country rendered subservient 
 to the militarj'^ power of France. The garrison 
 of two thousand men, which Beaulieu had left 
 
 ' Th., Tiii., 269. Nap., iii., 184. Jom., viii., 133. 
 
 ■f Napoleon on this occasion wrote to Camot : " Kellennan 
 •would command the army as well as I ; for no one is more 
 couvinced than I am of the courage and audacity of the sol- 
 diere ; but to unite us together would ruin everything. I 
 will not serve with a man who considers himself the first gen- 
 eral in Europe ; and it is better to have one bad general than 
 two good ones. War is, like government, decided m a great 
 degree by tact." To the Directory he observed, " It is in the 
 highest degree impolitic to divide into two the array of Italy, 
 and not less adverse to the interests of the Republic to place 
 at its head two different generals. The expedition to Leg- 
 horn, Rome, and Naples is a very inconsiderable matter, 
 and should be made by divisions in echellon, ready, at a mo- 
 ment's warning, to wheel about and face the Austrians on 
 the Adige. To perform it with success, both armies must 
 be under the command of one general. I have hitherto con- 
 ducted the campaign without consulting any one ; the re- 
 sult would have been verj- different if I had been oliliged to 
 reconcile my views with those of another. If you impose 
 upon me vexations of every descnption ; if I must refer all 
 my steps to the commissaries of government ; if they are au- 
 thorized to change my movements, to send away my troops, 
 expect no farther success. If you weaken your resources by 
 dividing your forces ; if you disturb in Italy the unity of mil- 
 itary thought, I say it with grief, you will lose the finest op- 
 portunity that ever occuiTed of giving laws to that fine pen- 
 insula. In the position of the affairs of the Republic, it is 
 indispensable that you possess a general who enjoys your 
 confidence ; if I do not do so, I sh.all not complain, and shall 
 do my utmost to manifest my zeal m the service which you 
 intrust to me. Every one has his own method of carrying 
 on war; Kellerman has more experience, and may do it 
 better than I ; but together we would do nothing but mis- 
 chief. Your resolution ou this matter is of more imiwrtance 
 than the fifteen thousand men whom the emperor has just 
 sent to Beaulieu."* But Napoleon did not intrust thjs im- 
 portant matter merely to these arguments, strong as they 
 were. Mnrat, who was still at Paris, received instructions 
 to inform Barras that a million of francs were deposited at 
 Genoa for his private use ; and the influence of Josephine was 
 employedboth with him and Camot to prevent the threatened 
 division, and the result was that it was abandoned. " The 
 Directory," said Camot, " has maturely considered j-our ar- 
 guments ; and the confidence which they have in your talents 
 and Republican zeal have decided the matter in your favour. 
 Kellerman will remain at Chamberry, and you may ad- 
 journ the expedition to Rome as long as you please." — Har- 
 BEMBERG, iii., 49, 351. 
 
 * Corresp. Secrete Nap., i., 160, 162, 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 405 
 
 in the citadel of Milan, was closely invested, and 
 25th M ^^'^ headquarters moved to Lodi. But 
 "^^ an event liere occurred which threaten- 
 ed great danger to the French army, and was 
 only averted by the decision and severity of their 
 chief.* 
 
 Opinions were much divided in Italy, as in 
 Alarmin" in- ^'^ States undergoing the crisis of a 
 surreciion at revolution, ou the changes which 
 Pavia. were going forward. The lower 
 
 classes in the towns had been moved by the 
 equality which the French everywhere proclaim- 
 ed ; but the peasantry' in the country, less liable 
 to the contagion of new principles, and more un- 
 der the inlluence of the nobility and priests, were 
 still firmly attached to the ancient regime, with 
 which the Austrian authority was now identi- 
 lied. When men's minds were in this divided 
 state, the prodigious contributions levied upon 
 Milan, and the vast requisitions of provisions 
 and horses which had been made for the use of 
 the army, inflamed the rural population to the 
 highest degree. The people of Lombardy did 
 not consider themselves as conquered, nor ex- 
 pect to be treated as such : they had welcom- 
 ed the French as deliverers, and now they found 
 a severer yoke fastened about their necks than 
 that from which they had just escaped. Roused 
 to indignation by such treatment, a general in- 
 surrection was rapidly organized over the whole 
 of that beautiful district. An attack, in concert 
 with a sortie from the garrison of the castle, was 
 made on Milan ; and though it failed, the insur- 
 gents were more successful at Pavia, where the 
 people rose against the garrison, forced it to ca- 
 pitulate, admitted eight thousand armed peasants 
 within their walls, and closed their gates against 
 the French troops.t 
 
 The danger was imminent ; the tocsin sound- 
 Storm aud ^'■^ i" ^^^ '^^^ parishes ; the least ret- 
 sack of that rograde movement would have aug- 
 oity by the mented the evil, and compelled the 
 French troops, retreat of the army, whose advanced 
 posts were already on the Oglio. In these cir- 
 cumstances, prudence prescribed temerity; and 
 Napoleon advanced in person to crush the insur- 
 gents. Their vanguard, posted at Brescia, was 
 routed by Lannes ; the village burned, and a 
 hundred of the peasants killed ; but this severe 
 example having failed in producing intimida- 
 tion, he marched himself next day to the walls 
 of Pavia, with si.x pieces of light artillery. The 
 grenadiers rushed forward to the gates, which 
 they broke open with hatchets ; while the artil- 
 lery cleared the ramparts, tiie victorious troops 
 rushed into the town, which the peasants precip- 
 itately abandoned to its fate. Napoleon, wishing 
 to terrify the insurgents, ordered the magistrates 
 and leaders of the revolt to be shot, and the city 
 to be delivered up to plimder, while the unhappy 
 peasants, pursued into the plain by the French 
 dragoons, were cut down in great numbers. 
 The pillage continued the whole day, and that 
 opulent and flourishing town underwent all the 
 horrors of war; but the terrible example crushed 
 the insurrection over the whole of Lombardy, 
 where hostages were taken from the principal 
 families, and despatched into France; 
 
 In this act was displayed another feature of 
 Napoleon's character, who, without being unne- 
 cessarily cruel, never hesitated to adopt the most 
 
 * Nap., iii., 191. Th., viii., 272. 
 
 t Th., viii., 972, 27.S. Nap., iii., 195. Jom., viii., 136. 
 t Th .viii., 275. Nap., iii., 194. Jom., viii., 138. Bot., 
 i., 390, 394. 
 
 sanguinary measures when requisite for his own 
 purpo.ses. Pillage and rapine, indeed, invariably 
 follow the capture of a town carried by assault, 
 and it is impossible to prevent it; but Napoleoa 
 in this instance authorized it by a general order, 
 and shot the leading persons of the city in cold 
 blood. It is in vain to appeal to the usages of 
 war for a vindication of such cruelty; the words 
 of Napoleon himself furnish his own condemna- 
 tion: " It is the flrst duty," said the emperor, in 
 his proclamation to the peasantry of France' in 
 February, 1814, "of every citizen to take up 
 arras in defence of his country. Let the peas- 
 antry everywhere organize themselves in bands, 
 with such weapons as they can find ; let them 
 fall upon the flanks and rear of the invaders; 
 and let a consuming fire envelop the presump- 
 tuous host which has dared to violate the terri- 
 tory of the great nation."* 
 
 Having by this severity stifled the spirit of in- 
 surrection in his rear. Napoleon con- „j^ qg ^ __ 
 tinued his march, and on the 28th potfon enters* 
 entered the great city of Brescia, sit- Brescia and 
 uated on the neutral territory of ^^^ Venitiau 
 Venice. Meanwhile, Beaulieu ex- '^'^"""■y- 
 perienced the usual fate of a retiring army, that 
 of being weakened by the garrisons necessary 
 for the fortified places which it leaves uncovered 
 in its retreat. He threw twenty battalions of 
 his best troops into Mantua, and took up a de- 
 fensive position along the line of the Mtncio. 
 There he was assailed on the following 
 day by Napoleon, who, after forcing a ^^" 
 
 bridge in front of his position, attacked his rear- 
 guard at Vallegio with all his cavalry, and made 
 prisoners, in spite of the bravest efforts of the 
 Austrian horse, twelve hundred men and five 
 pieces of cannon. + 
 
 When the French army entered the Venitiau 
 territory, and it had become evident Debates in tha 
 that the flames of war were ap- Venitian seu- 
 proaching its capital, it was warmly ate on what 
 discussed in the Venitian senate s'l^uW I'e done, 
 what course the Republic should pursue in the 
 perilous circumstances that had occurred. Pes- 
 chiera had been occupied by the Austrians, but, 
 being abandoned by them, was instantly seized 
 by the French, who insisted that, though a Ve- 
 nitian fortress, yet, having been seized by one 
 of the belligerent powers, it had now become the 
 fair conquest of the other; and, at the same 
 time. Napoleon threatened the Republic with all 
 the vengeance of France if the Count de Lille, 
 afterward Louis XVIII., who had long resided 
 at Verona, was not immediately compelled to 
 leave their territories. The Republican forces, 
 under Massena, were advancing towards Vero- 
 na, and it was necessary to take a decided line. 
 On the one hand it was urged that France had 
 now proclaimed principles subversive of all reg- 
 ular governments, and in an especial manner 
 inimical to the aristocracy of Venice ; that cer- 
 tain ruin, either from foreign violence or domes- 
 tic revolution, was to be expected from their suc- 
 cess ; that the haughtj' tone even now assumed 
 by the conqueror already showed that he looked 
 upon all the continental possessions of the Re- 
 public as his own, and was only waiting for an 
 opportunity to seize them for the French nation ; 
 and, therefore, that the sole course left was to 
 throw themselves into the arms of Austria, the 
 natural ally of all regular governments. On the 
 
 * Proclamation, Feb. 28, 1814. Baron Fain. Camp. 1814, 
 142. t Nap., iii., 202. Jom., viii., 139, 142. 
 
406 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 other it -n-as contended, that they must beware i 
 lest they mistook a temporaiy irruption of the 
 French lor a permanent settlement; that Italy 
 had in every age been the tomb of the Frencii 
 armies; that the forces of the present invader, 
 now successful soever they had hitherto been, 
 were unequal to a permanent occupation of the 
 peninsula, and would, in the end, yield to the 
 persevering efforts of the Germans ; that Austria, 
 therefore, the natural enemy of Venice, and the 
 power which coveted, would, in the end, attempt 
 to seize its territorial possessions ; that their for- 
 ces were now expelled from Lombardy, and 
 could not resume the oflensive for two month.s, 
 a period which would sutfice to the French gen- 
 eral to destroy the Republic ; that interest, there- 
 fore, equally with prudence, prescribed that they 
 should attach themselves to the cause of France ; 
 obtain thereby a barrier against the ambition of 
 their powerful neighbour, and receive, in recom- 
 pense for their services, part of the Italian do- 
 minions of the Austrian Empire : that, in so 
 doing, they must, it is true, to a certain degree, 
 modil'y their form of government ; but that was 
 no more than the spirit of the age required, and 
 was absolutely indispensable to secure the do- 
 minion of their continental possessions. A 
 third party, few in numbers but resolute in pur- 
 pose, contended that the only safe course was 
 that of an armed neutrality ; that the forces of 
 the Republic should be instantly raised to fifty 
 thousand men, and either of the belligerent pow- 
 ers which should violate their territory threaten- 
 ed with the whole vengeance of the Republic* 
 
 Had the Venitians possessed the firmness of 
 They merely ^^^ Roman senate, they would have 
 deprecate the adopted the first course; had they 
 hostility of been inspired by the spirit of the 
 France. Athenian Democracy, they would 
 have followed the second; had they been ani- 
 mated by the courage of the Swiss confederacy, 
 they would have taken the third. In either case, 
 the Republic might have been saved; for it is 
 impossible to consider the long and equal strug- 
 gle which ensued round Mantua, between France 
 and Austria, without being convinced that a con- 
 siderable body, even of Italian troops, might have 
 then cast the balance. They had three millions 
 of souls ; their army could easily be raised to 
 fifty thousand men ; thirteen regiments of Sclavo- 
 nians in their service were good troops; theirfleet 
 ruled the Adriatic. But Venice was worn out 
 and corrupted ; its nobles, drowned in pleasure, 
 were destitute of energy ; its peasantry, inured to 
 peace, were unequal to war; its defence, trusted 
 merely to mercenary troops, rested on a tottering 
 foundation. They adopted, in consequence, the 
 most timid course, which, in presence of danger, 
 is generally the most perilous : they made no 
 warlike preparations, but merely sent commis- 
 sioners to the French general to deprecate his 
 hostility, and endeavour to secure his good-will.t 
 The consequence was, what might have been an- 
 ticipated from conduct so unworthy of the ancient 
 fame of the Republic : the commissioners were 
 disregarded ; the war was carried on in the Veni- 
 tian territories, and at its close the Republic was 
 swept from the book of nations.! 
 
 * Bot., j., 403, 405, 408, 409. Th., viii., 276, 279. 
 
 t Bot.. i., 408, 413. Nap., iii., 204, 205. Th., viii., 278, 
 280. Hard., iii., 357. 
 
 t In adopting this course, Napoleon exceeded the instruc- 
 tions of his g-oveniraent ; and, indeed, on him alone appears 
 to rest the atrocious perfidy and dissimulation exercised in 
 the sequel towards that Republic. The directions of the 
 Directory were as follows : '• Venice should be treated as a 
 
 Massena entered the magnificent city of Vero- 
 na, the frontier city of the Venitian 
 dominions, situated on the Adige, MaTsen'a en-" 
 and a military position of the highest lers Verona, 
 importance lor future operations, in andNapoieoa 
 the beginning of June. Its position '^ established 
 at the entrance of the great valley of "" '*"' ^'^'^®- 
 the Adige, and on the high-road from the Tyrol 
 into Lombardy, rendered it the advanced post of 
 the French army in covering the siege ol Man- 
 tua. He occupied, at the same time, Porto Leg- 
 nago, a fortified town on the Adige, and which, 
 along with Verona, strengthened, that stream, 
 whose short and rapid course from the Alps to 
 the Po formed the best militarj' frontier of Italy. 
 There Napoleon received the commissioners of 
 Venice, who vainly came to deprecate the vic- 
 tor's wrath, and induce him to retire from the ter- 
 ritories of the Republic. With such terror did 
 his menaces inspire them, that the Venitian goT- 
 emment concluded a treaty, by which 
 they agreed to furnish supplies of ev- "^* > ' °' 
 ery soit for the army, and secretly pay for them ; 
 and the commissioners, overawed by the com- 
 manding air and stern menaces of Napoleon, 
 wrote to the senate, " This young man will one 
 day have an important influence on the destinies 
 of his country."* 
 
 Napoleon was now firmly established on the 
 line of the Adige, the possession of Description 
 which he always deemed of so much and blockade 
 importance, and to the neglect of of Mantua, 
 which he ascribed all the diasters of the succeed- 
 ing campaigns of the French in Italy. Nothing 
 remained but to make himself master of Man- 
 tua ; and the immense efibrts made by both par- 
 ties for that place, prove the vast importance of 
 fortresses in modern war. Placed in the middle 
 of unhealthy marshes, which are traversed only 
 by five cliaussees; strong in its situation, as well 
 as the fortifications which surround it, this town 
 is truly the bulwark of Austria and Italy, with- 
 out the possession of which the conquest of Lom- 
 bardy must be deemed insecure, and that of the 
 hereditary states cannot be attempted. The en- 
 trance of two only of the chaussees which ap- 
 proached it were defended by fortifications at 
 that time; so that, by placing troops at these 
 points, and drawing a cordon romid the others, 
 it was an easy matter to blockade the place, even 
 with an inferior force. Serrurier sat 
 down before it in the middle of June, 
 
 14th June. 
 
 nevtral, but not a friendly power; it has done nothing to 
 merit the latter character."* But to the Venitian commis- 
 sioners Napoleon, from the first, used the most insulting and 
 rigorous language. " Venice," said he, " by daring to give 
 an asylum to the Count de Lille, a pretender to the throne 
 of France, has declared war against the Republic. 1 know 
 not why I should not reduce Verona to ashes — a town which 
 had the presumption to esteem itself the capital of France. "t 
 He declared to them that he would carry that threat into 
 e.xecution that very night, if an immediate surrender did not 
 take place. The perfidy of his views against Venice, even 
 at this early period, was fully evinced in his secret despatch 
 to the Directory on the 7th of June. " If your object," said 
 he, " is to extract five or six millions out of Venice, I have 
 secured for you a pretence for a rupture. You may demand 
 it as an indemnity for the combat of Borghetto, which I was 
 obliged to sustain to take Peschiera. If you have more de- 
 cided views, we must take care not to let that subject of dis- 
 cord drop ; tell me what you wish, and be assured I will 
 seize the most fitting opportunity of carrying it into execu- 
 tion, according to circumstances, for we must take care not 
 to have all the world on our hands at oncp."| The truth of 
 the affair of Peschiera is, that the Venitians were cruelly 
 deceived by the Austrians, who demanded a passage for fifty 
 men, and then seized the town. 
 
 ' Th., viii., 288, 289. Hard., iii., 364. Nap., iii., 205. 
 
 * Corresp. Secrete, 7tli of May, 1796. 
 t Corresp. Secrele de N»p., i., 232. 
 
 tHiird., iii., 361. 
 
1796] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 407 
 
 with ten thousand men; and with this inconsid- 
 erable force, skilllilly disposed at the entrance of 
 the highways which crossed the lake, and round 
 its shores, he contrived to keep in check a gar- 
 rison of lourteen thousand men, of whom more 
 than a third encumbered the hospitals of the 
 place.* 
 
 As the siege of this important fortress requi- 
 red a considerable time, Napoleon had leisure 
 to deliberate concerning the ulterior measures 
 which he should pursue. An army of forty-five 
 thousand men, which had so rapidly overrun the 
 north of Italy, could not venture to penetrate into 
 the Tyrol and Germany, the mountains of which 
 were occupied by Beaulieu's forces, aided by a 
 warlike peasantry, and, at the same time, carry 
 on the blockade of Mantua, for which at least 
 fifteen thousand men would be required. More- 
 over, the southern powers of Italy were not yet 
 subdued ; and, though little formidable in a mil- 
 itary point of view, they might prove highly 
 dangerous to the blockading force, if the bulk 
 of tfie Republican troops were engaged in the 
 defiles of the Tyrol, while the French armies on 
 the Rhine were not yet in a condition to give 
 them any assistance. Influenced by these con- 
 siderations, Napoleon resolved to take advan- 
 tage of the pause in military operations, which 
 the blockade of Mantua and retreat of Beaulieu 
 afibrded, to clear the enemies in his rear, and es- 
 tablish the French influence to the south of the 
 Apennines. t 
 
 The King of Naples, alarmed at the retreat 
 of the German troops, and fearful of having the 
 whole forces of the Republic upon his own 
 hands, upon the first appearance of their ad- 
 , , vance to the .south, solicited an armistice, 
 ■ which the French commander readily 
 granted, and which was followed by the .seces- 
 sion of the Neapolitan cavalrj', two thousand 
 lour hundred strong, from the imperial army. 
 Kapoleon re- Encouraged by this defection, Napo- 
 solves to pro- leon resolved instantly to proceed 
 ceed agiiusi against the ecclesiastical and Tus- 
 Florence aiid ^ states, in order to extinguish 
 Home lietore , , .,.' , . , i -i i 
 
 the Austrian the hostility, wluch was daily be- 
 succours ar- coming more inveterate, to the south 
 «ve- of the Apennines. In truth, the fer- 
 
 ment was extreme in all the cities of Lombardy, 
 and every hour rendered more marked the sep 
 aration betAveen the aristocratical and Democrat- 
 ical parties. The ardent spirits in Milan, Bo- 
 logna, Brescia, Parma, and all the great towns 
 of that fertile district, were in full revolutionary 
 action, and a large proportion of their citizens 
 seemed resolved to llirow off" the patrician influ- 
 ence under which they had so long existed, and 
 •establish republics on the model of the great 
 transalpine state. Wakened by these appearan- 
 ces to a sense of the danger which threatened 
 them, the aristocratic party were everywhere 
 strengthening themselves : the nobles in the Ge- 
 noese fiefs were collecting forces ; the English 
 had made themselves masters of Leghorn ; and 
 the Roman pontiff was threatening to exert his 
 feeble strength. Napoleon knew that Wurmser, 
 "who had been detached from the army of the 
 Upper Rhinc^, with thirty thousand men, to re- 
 store affairs in Italy, could not be at Verona be- 
 fore the middle of July, and before then there 
 appeared time to subdue the states of central It- 
 aly and secure the rear of his army.T 
 
 * Th., Till., 290. Nap., ni., 158, 205, 209. 
 
 t Nap., iii., 2t)9. Jom., viii., 146. 
 
 t Nap., ill., 213. Bot., i., 414, 430. Th., yiii., 293, 294. 
 
 Having lefi; fifteen thousand men before Man- 
 tua, and twenty thousand on the Adige, to cover 
 its blockade, the French general set out 
 himself, with the division of Augereau, ^"'^''^^■ 
 to cross the Apennines. He relumed, in the 
 first instance to Milan, opened the trenches be- 
 fore its castle, and pressed the siege, n ,^ <• »t 
 
 ' , .^ ^ J , ?',' tastle of Mi- 
 
 so as to compel its surrender, which lan taken. Ge- 
 took place shortly afler. From noese fiefs sub- 
 thence he proceeded against the Ge- '^"'^^• 
 noese fiefs. Lannes, with twelve hundred men 
 stormed Arquata, the chief seat of hostilitie.'^; 
 burned the village; shot the principal inhabi- 
 tants ; and, by these severe measures, so intimi- 
 dated the senate of Genoa, that they implicitly 
 submitted to the conqueror, .sent off' the Austrian 
 minister, and agreed to the occupation of all the 
 military posts in their territory by the French 
 troops. From thence Napoleon moved toward.s 
 the Apennines, entered Modena, Enters Mode- 
 where he was received with every na and Bolop- 
 deinonstration of joy ; and, on the "^■ 
 road to Bologna, made himself master of the 
 foit of Urbino, Avith sixty pieces of heavy artil- 
 lery, which proved a most seasonable supply for 
 the siege of Maritua. His appearance at Bolog- 
 na was the signal for universal intoxication. 
 The people at once revolted against the papal 
 authority, while Napoleon encouraged . .g 
 the propagation of every principle which 
 was calculated to dismember the ecclesiastical 
 territories. The Italian troops were pursued to 
 Ferrara, which the Republicans entered without 
 opposition, and made themselves masters of its 
 arsenal, containing 114 pieces of artillery; 
 while General Vaubois crossed the Apennines, 
 and, avoiding Florence, directed his steps to- 
 wards Rome.* 
 
 At the intelligence of his approach, the coun- 
 cil of the Vatican was thrown into .iune24. Sub- 
 the utmost alarm. Azara, minister mission of the 
 of Spain, was despatched immedi- i'"P<'- 
 ately with offers of submis.sion, and arrived at 
 Bologna to lay the tiara at the feet of the Repub- 
 lican general. The terms of an armistice were 
 soon agieed on : it was stipulated that Bologna 
 and Ferrara should remain in the possession of 
 the French troops ; that the pope should pay 
 twenty millions of francs, furnish great contri- 
 butions of stores and provisions, t and give up a 
 hundred of the finest works of art to the French 
 commissioners. In virtue of that humiliating 
 treaty, all the great monuments of genius which 
 adorned the Eternal City, were soon after trans- 
 ported to the museum at Paris.: 
 
 *• Jom., Tiii., 151,152. Bot., i., 416. Th., viii., 298, 299. 
 Nap.. 111., 214. t Nap., iii., 219. 
 
 + Genoa at the same period occupied the rapacious eyes 
 of the French general. "You may dictate laws to Genoa 
 as soon as you please," were his expressions, in his instruc- 
 tions to Faypoult, the French envoy there. And to j^,, g_ 
 the Directory he wrote, " All our affairs in Italy are 
 now closed, excepting Venice and Genoa. As to Venice, 
 the moment for action has not yet arrived ; we must first 
 beat Wurmser and take Mantua. But the moment has ar- 
 rived for Genoa; I am about to break ground for the ten 
 millions. I think, besides, with the minister Faypoult, that 
 we must expel a dozen of families from the government of 
 that city, and oblige the senate to repeal a decree which 
 banished two families favourable to France." And ^, ^^ 
 to Faypoult, Napoleon prescribed his course of per- 
 fidious dissimulation in these words : " I have not yet seen 
 M. Catanio, the Genoese deputy ; but / shall neglect nothing 
 which may throw them off their guard. The Directory has 
 ordered me to exact the ten millions, hut interdicted all po- 
 litical operations. Omit nothing which may set the senate 
 asleep; and amuse them with hopes till the moment of wa- 
 kenin? has arnved."* The moment of wakening thus con- 
 
 ' CoDtideDt. Despatch, July 14, 1796. Corresp. Cocf., i., 330, 334. 
 
408 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 Having arranged this important treaty, Napo- 
 leon, without delay, crossed the Apen- 
 
 ""^ ■ nines, and found the division of Vaubois 
 at Pistoia. P^rom that point he detached Murat, 
 who suddenly descended upon Leghorn, and 
 -^ seized the effects of a large portion of 
 
 the neutral ^^'^ English merchants, which were 
 territory of sold in open violation of all the usages 
 Tuscany, of war, which hitherto had respected 
 ^f I ^th"^" private property at land, and from 
 eg om. jj^^j^ ^^jg j^^ realized twelve millions 
 of francs for the use of the army. What ren- 
 dered this ou trage more flagrant was, that it was 
 committed in the territories of a neutral power, 
 the Grand-duke of Tuscany, and from wliom 
 he himself at the -tinle was getting the most splen- 
 did reception at Florence.* Thus early did Na- 
 poleon evince that unconquerable hatred of Eng- 
 lish commerce, and that determination to violate 
 the usages of war for its destruction, by which 
 J e was afterward so strongly actuated, and which 
 had so powerful a share in contributing to his 
 downfall. t 
 
 After a short stay at Florence, Napoleon re- 
 Massacre of turned to Bologna, where Augereau 
 the peasants took a severe vengeance on the in- 
 atLugo. habitants of the village of Lugo, 
 ■which had taken up arms against the Republi- 
 cans, and killed and wounded some soldiers in a 
 detachment sent for its reduction. The village 
 was carried by assault, burned to ashes, and the 
 unfortunate peasants, to the number of one thou- 
 sand, put, with merciless severity, to the sword. 
 This terrible example having struck terror into 
 all the inhabitants of that part of Italy, he return- 
 ed to the vicinity of Mantua to superintend the 
 operations of the siege, which Serrurier was 
 now about to undertake in good earnest, with 
 the battering train taken at the castles of Milan, 
 TJrbino, and Ferrara, but for the relief of which 
 place Austria was making the most vigorous 
 exeriions.t 
 
 The resolution of Napoleon to stir up a quar- 
 rel with Venice was more and more clearly 
 evinced, as matters approached a crisis in the 
 north of Italy. On the 25th of July he had a 
 long and confidential conversation with Pesaro, 
 the commissioner of that republic ; and such 
 "was the vehemence of his language, the ex- 
 aggeration of his complaints, and the sternness 
 of his manner, that he forthwith wrote to the 
 senate of St. Mark that war appeared inevitable. 
 It was in vain that Pesaro represented " that 
 ever since the entrance of the French into Italy, 
 his government had made it their study to antici- 
 pate all the wishes of the general- in-chief; that, 
 if it had not done more, it was solely from ina- 
 bility, and a desire not to embroil themselves 
 ■with the Imperialists, who never ceased to re- 
 proach them with their partiality to France; 
 that the senate would do everything in its power 
 to restrain the public effervescence ; and that the 
 
 templated by Napoleon was an internal revolution which 
 was not yet fully prepared. 
 
 ' Th., viii., 301. Bnt., i., 436. Nap., iii., 222. 
 
 t The rapine and pillage of tlie French authonties, con- 
 sequent on this irruption into Tuscany, knew no bounds. 
 " If our administrative conduct," said Napoleon to the Di- 
 rectory, '■ was detestable at Leghorn, our political conduct 
 towards Tuscany has been no better." — Secret Correspond, 
 of Napoleon, llth July, 1796. His views extended even far- 
 ther ; for, on the 25th, he wrote to the Directory, " Reports 
 are in circulation that the emperor is dying ; the Grand- 
 duke of Tuscany, the heir to the throne, will instantly set 
 out for Vienna. We must anticipate him, by taking milita- 
 ry possession of the whole of Tuscany." — Secret Despatch, 
 25th July. ; Bot., i., 420. Nap., iii., 225. 
 
 armaments, so much complained of, were di- 
 rected as much against the English and Russians 
 as the French."* The delermination of Napo- 
 leon in regard to the Venitian Republic is reveal- 
 ed in his secret despatches at this period to the 
 Directory: " I have seized," said he, " the citadel 
 of Verona, and armed it with the Venitian can- 
 non, and summoned the senate to dissolve its 
 armaments. Venice has already furnished three 
 millions for the service of the army; but, ia 
 order to extract more out of it, I have found my- 
 self under the necessity of assuming a menacing- 
 tone towards their commissaries, of exaggerating 
 the assa.ssinations committed against our troops, 
 of complaining bitterly of their armaments ; and 
 by these means I compel them, to appease my 
 wrath, to furnish whatever I desire. That is the 
 only way to deal with such persons. There is 
 not, on the face of the earth, a more perfidious 
 or cowardlj' government. I will force them to 
 provide supplies for the army till the fall of 
 Mantua, and then announce that they must far- 
 ther make good the contributions fixed in your 
 instructions. "t 
 
 No sooner had they received intelligence of 
 the defeat of Beaulieu, and the re- Efforts of th& 
 treat of his forces into the Tyrol, than Austrians for 
 the Aulic Council resolved upon the the relief of 
 most energetic measures to repair '^'antua. 
 the disaster. The army of Beaulieu retired to 
 Roveredo, where they threw up intrenchments 
 to cover their position, while eight thousand 
 Tyrolese occupied the crests of the mountains 
 which separated the valley of the Adige from 
 the Lake of Guarda. Meanwhile ^j^ance of 
 Marshal Wurmser was detached from Wurmser 
 the Upper Rhine with thirty thousand through the 
 men, to assume the chief command of ^5^"' '•"'^^ 
 the army destined for the relief of ^"'""" "'^°- 
 Mantua; which, by that great re-enforcement, 
 and numerous detachments di'awn from the in- 
 terior, was raised to sixty thousand efiective 
 troops. These great preparations, which Mere 
 magnified by report, and had roused the aristo- 
 cratic part}' throughout Italy to great exertions, 
 filled Napoleon with the most lively apprehen- 
 sions. To oppose them he had only fifty-five 
 thousand men, of whom fifteen thousand were 
 engaged in the siege of Mantua, ten thousand in 
 keeping up his communication and maintaining 
 garrisons in the conquered territory, so that not 
 above thirty thousand could be relied on for 
 operations in the field. He had incessantly 
 urged the Directory to send him re-enforce- 
 ments; but, although eight thousand men from 
 the army of Kellerman had joined his stand- 
 ard, and numerous re-enfbrcements from the 
 depots in the interior, they were barely adequate 
 to repair the losses arising from that wasteful, 
 campaign.: 
 
 Nothing but the greatest ability on the part of 
 the general, and courage among the soldiers, 
 could have compensated for this inferiority in- 
 numbers; but the genius of Napoleon, and the 
 confidence arising from a series of victories, 
 proved adequate to the task.§ His success was 
 mainlv owing to the vicious plan of attack 
 adopted by the Austrians, which, like all the 
 others framed by the Aulic Council, was ex- 
 
 * Letter of Lallemand to Napoleon, 26th of July, 1T96. 
 Corresp. Confid. de Nap. Hard., iii., 424. 
 
 t ."secret Despatch of Napoleon, July 22, 1796. Corresp., 
 i., .S27. 
 
 1 Jom., viii., 302, 303. Nap., iii., 231, 232. Th., viii., 360. 
 
 >) Jom., iii., 305. 
 
179C.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 409 
 
 posed to defeat from the division of their for- 
 ces. 
 
 The waters which descend from the southern 
 Description of ridges of the Tyrol unite into two 
 the theatre of streams, flowing nearly parallel to 
 ■^'"■- each other, and issuing in the same 
 
 latitude into the plain of Lombardy, the Mincio, 
 and the Adige. The first forms, in its course, 
 tlie noble sheet of water called tlie Lake of 
 Guarda, flows through the plain immortalized 
 by the genius of Virgil, swells into the lakes 
 which surround Mantua, and afterward dis- 
 charges itself into the Po. The latter, after de- 
 scending from the snowy ridges of the higher 
 Alps, flows in an open valley to a narrow and 
 precipitous pass above Verona, next emerges 
 into the open country, winds in a deep and rocky 
 bed to Legnago, after which it spreads into vast 
 marshes, and is lost in the dikes and inundations 
 of Lombardy. Three roads present themselves 
 to an enemy proposing to issue froin the Tyrol 
 to the Italian plains : the first, turning sharp to 
 the left at Roveredo, traverses the romantic de- 
 files of the Val Sugana, and emerges into the 
 open country at Bassano. The second passes 
 by the upper end of the Lake of Guarda, and 
 comes>lov/n by its western shore to Salo and 
 Brescia; while the third descends the left bank 
 of the Adige, and after traversing the gloomy 
 pass of Galliano and Chiusa, reaches the town 
 of Verona. Tlie space between the Adige and 
 the Lake of Guarda, though only three leagues 
 broad, is filled by the Montebaldo, whose preci- 
 pices restrain the river on the one hand and the 
 lake on the other. In this narrow and rocky 
 space a road descends between the Adige and 
 the lake from Roveredo to the plain.* It follows 
 the right bank of the stream as far as Osteria 
 della Dugana, when, meeting impracticable pre- 
 cipices, it turns to the right, and ascends the 
 plateau of Rivoli. 
 
 The entrance of all these passes was occupied 
 by the French troops. Sauret, with only four 
 thousand five hundred men, was posted at Salo, 
 to guard the western side of the Lake of Guarda, 
 as the road there was not inaccessible to artiller)^ 
 Massena, with fifteen thousand, guarded the great 
 road on the Adige, and occupied the plateau of 
 Rivoli ; while Despinois, with five thousand, was 
 in the environs of Verona ; and Augereau, with 
 eight thousand in reserve, at Legnago. Napo- 
 leon himself, with two thousand horse, took post 
 at Castelnuovo, in order to be equally near any 
 of the points that might be menaced.! 
 
 Wurmser's plan was to make demonstrations 
 only against Verona and the left of 
 of^atVackf ^" ^^^^ Adige, and to bring down the 
 bulk of his forces by the Montebaldo 
 and the valley of Salo, on the opposite sides of 
 the Lake of "Guarda. For this purpose he de- 
 tached Ciuasdanovich, with twenty thousand 
 men, to go round the upper end of the lake, and 
 descend the opposite banks of the Adige ; the one 
 division was destined to force Corona and the 
 plateau of Rivoli, while the other was to debouch 
 upon Verona, The whole columns were in mo- 
 tion by the end of July; rumour had magnified 
 their numbers ; and the partisans of Austria and 
 of the aristocratic system were already breaking 
 out into exultation, and anticipating the speedy 
 verification of the proverb, that Italy was the 
 tomb of the French.: 
 
 * Th., viii., Ui, 364. Jum., viii., 305. 
 
 t Th., viii., 4. Nap., jij., 235. 
 
 t Th., viii., 364, 365. Nap., lii., 233. 
 
 Vol. I. — F f f 
 
 In truth, the circumstances of the Republicans 
 were all but desperate. On the 29th of j^, 39 
 July, the imperial outposts attacked the And great 
 French at all points, and everywhere success in 
 with success. Massena, vigorously as- "le outset, 
 saulted at three in the morning by superior forces 
 was driven from the intrenchments of Corona' 
 and retired with loss to Rivoli, from whence he 
 was glad to escape towards Castelnuovo, upon, 
 finding that the column which followed the lefl 
 bank of the Adige was getting in his rear. At 
 the same time, the Imperialists drove in the Re- 
 publican posts on the great road, forced the pass 
 of Chiusa, and appeared before Verona; while,, 
 on the other side of the Lake of Guarda, Lusignan 
 attacked and carried the town of Salo, and thus 
 cut off the principal line of retreat towards 
 France.* 
 
 In this extremity Napoleon, for the first time 
 in the whole campaign, called a council of war. 
 All the officers, with the exception of Augereau, 
 recommended a retreat behind the Po ; but that 
 intrepid chief resolutely held out for battle. The 
 generals were dismissed without the commander- 
 in-chief having signified his own opinion ; but in 
 the course of the night he formed a resolution, 
 which not only extricated him from his periloui^v 
 situation, but has immortalized his name in the 
 annals of war.t 
 
 The Austrians, fifty thousand strong, were de- 
 scending the opposite banks of the 
 Lake ot^ Guarda, and it was evident Extreme penl 
 that if they succeeded m enclosmg 
 the French army near Mantua, they would infal- 
 libly crush it by their great superiority of force. 
 But in so doing they exposed themselves to be at- 
 tacked and beaten by superior forces in detail, if 
 the siege of that place were rapidly raised, and 
 the bulk of the French army borne first on the one 
 invading column and then on the other. Napo- 
 leon resolved on this sacrifice. Orders jje raises 
 were immediately despatched to Serru- the siege of 
 rier to raise the siege of Mantua ; the Mantua, 
 division of Augereau was moved from Legnago 
 across the Mincio, and the French anny, with 
 the exception of Massena, concentrated at the 
 lower extremity of the Lake of Guarda, to fall, in. 
 the first instance, upon the corps of GLuasdano- 
 vich, which already threatened his communica- 
 tion with Milan. These orders were promptly 
 obeyed. During the night of the 3l.st 
 of July, the .siege of Mantau was raised, ^'^' ■'"''^' 
 the cannon spiked, and the stores thrown into the 
 lake, while Napoleon himself, with the greater 
 part of his army, crossed the Mincio at Pe.schiera, 
 and prepared to fall on the Austrian forces on 
 the western shore of the Lake of Guarda. There 
 was not a moment to lose; in a few hours the 
 allied columns would be in communication, and 
 the French compelled to fight greatly superior 
 forces in a single field.t 
 
 No sooner had Napoleon arrived with his re- 
 enforcements, than he sent forward 
 Augereau to clear the road to Milan, Napd"e^on*'re- 
 and ordered Sauret to retake Salo. suipes the of- 
 Both expeditions were completely fensive, and 
 successful ; Brescia was regained, arrests Qnas- 
 and the Austrians driven out of ''''"°^'"=''- 
 Salo. Meanwhile, Napoleon himself, with the 
 brigade of D'Allemagne, advanced to Lonato, 
 and after a violent struggle, drove the Impe- 
 
 * Th., viii., SCO, 367. Jom., viii., 312, 313. 
 t Th., viii., 367. 
 
 t Nap., iii., 239, 239. Th., viii., 369. Jom., viii., 316. 
 Hard., lii., 430. 
 
410 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 rialists out of that place, with the loss of five 
 hundred prisoners. In these actions, Q.uasdano- 
 vich lost lew men, but they arrested his progress, 
 and, astonished at finding himself assailed by 
 imposing masses, in a quarter where he expected 
 to find only the rear ol the enemy, he fell back 
 towards the mountains, to await intelligence of 
 the operations of (he main body under Wurmser.* 
 
 Meanwhile that brave commander, having 
 August 1. dislodged Massena from his position, 
 Wurmser en- advanced to iVIantua, where he made 
 ters Mantua, his triumphal entry on the 1st of Au- 
 gust. The sudden raising of the siege, the aban- 
 donment of the equipage, the destruction of works 
 ■which it had cost the Republicans so long to 
 construct, all conspired to increase his satisfac- 
 tion at this event, and promised an easy conquest 
 over the retiring remains of the enemy. But, on 
 the very night of his arrival, he received intelli- 
 gence of the check of Cluasdanovich and the 
 capture of Brescia. Immediately he advanced 
 his columns across the Mincio and moved upon 
 Castiglione, with the design of enveloping the 
 French army with all his forces, while Cluas- 
 danovich resumed the otfensive and retook the 
 town of Salo.t 
 
 The crisis was now approaching : the Austrian 
 armies were not only in communication, but al- 
 most united, while the Republicans, with inferior 
 forces, lay between them. Napoleon immedi- 
 ately drew back the divisions of Massena and 
 Augereau, above twenty thousand strong, and 
 caused his whole army to face about : what had 
 been the rear became the advanced guard. He 
 put forth more than his wonted activity and ra- 
 
 Eidity of movement. Incessantly on horseback 
 imself, he cau.sed the soldiers, who had marched 
 all night, to fight all day. Having, by this rapid 
 countennarch, accumulated the bulk of his forces 
 opposite to Wurmser, he resolved to deliver him- 
 self from that formidable adversary by an imme- 
 diate attack. It was full time. The Austrians 
 had discovered a passage over the Mincio, and 
 driven the French from Castiglione, where they 
 had already begun to intrench themselves.: 
 
 On the third of August Napoleon advanced, 
 Sd Au<»ust. "^^^ twenty-five thousand men, upon 
 Battles of LoNATO, while Augereau moved to- 
 Lonato and wards Castiglione. The first attack 
 Castiglione. ^f ^j^e Republicans was unsuccessful ; 
 their light troops were thrown into confusion; 
 General Pegion, with three pieces of artillery, 
 captured by the enemy, and Lonato taken. Up- 
 on this, the French general put himself at the 
 head of his soldiers, and formed the centre into 
 one formidable mass, while the Imperialists were 
 extending themselves towards Salo, in the double 
 view of enveloping the French, and opening a 
 communication with Cluasdanovich, whose ar- 
 tillery was already heard in that direction. Na- 
 poleon immediately perceived the error of his 
 adversary, and made a desperate charge, with a 
 column of infantry supported by cavalry, upon 
 his centre, which, being weakened for the exten- 
 sion of the wings, speedily gave way. Lonato 
 was retalcen by assault, and the Austrian army 
 cut asunder. One part of it elTected its retreat 
 under Bayalitch to the Mincio, but the other, 
 which was moving towards Salo, finding itself 
 irrecoverably separated from the main body of 
 the army, endeavoured to effect a junction with 
 auasdanovich at Salo; but Guyeux, with a di- 
 
 * Jam., viii., 316. Nap., lii., 238. 
 
 t Th., viii., 371. Jom., viii., 318. Hard., iii., 432, 433. 
 
 t Nap., lii., 241. Th., viii., 372. 
 
 vision of French, already occupied that place; 
 and the fugitive Austrians, pressed between the 
 dragoons of Junot, who assailed their rear, and 
 the infantry at Salo, wlio stopped their advance, 
 disbanded, and suflered a loss of three thousand 
 prisoners and twenty pieces of cannon.* 
 
 While the Austrians were experiencing the.se 
 disasters at Lonato, Augereau, on the right, had 
 maintained an obstinate engagement at Castig- 
 lione. In that quarter the Republicans were the 
 assailants;, and the French general had main- 
 tained the combat all day with great resolution 
 against superior forces, when Napoleon, having 
 defeated the centre of the enemy, ha.stened to his 
 support. After a furious combat, Augereau 
 succeeded in carrying the town, and the Austri- 
 ans retired towards Mantua, with the loss of one 
 thousand killed and wounded, besides as many 
 prisoners.t They had not proceeded far, when 
 they met the re-enforcements which WUnnser 
 was bringing up from that place for their relief. 
 
 As it was evident that the Austrian veteran 
 was still disposed to contend for the empire of 
 Italy in a pitched battle, Napoleon deemed it in- 
 dispensable to clear his rear of Cluasdanovich 
 before engaging in it. On the following day he 
 employed himself in collecting and organizing 
 his Ibrces at Lonato, with a view to the decisive 
 conllict ; while, by moving two divisions against 
 Cluasdanovich, whose troops were now exhau.st- 
 ed by fatigue, he compelled him to remount the 
 Val Sabbia towards Riva. A singular event at 
 this time took place, highly characteristic both 
 of the extraordinarily intersected situation of the 
 two armies, and of the presence of mind and 
 good fortune of Napoleon. He had arrived at 
 Lonato to expedite the movement surrender of 
 of his forces in the opposite direc- 4000 Austrians 
 tions where their enemies were to to Napoleon's 
 be found ; and, from the dispersion ^'^'^ ^'"^ ^^^ 
 which he had directed, only twelve ™'^°' 
 hundred men remained at headquarters. Before 
 he had been long there he was summoned to 
 surrender by a corps of four thousand Austri- 
 ans, who had already occupied all the avenues 
 by which retreat was possible. They consisted 
 of a part of the troops of Bayalitch, which, hav- 
 ing been defeated in its endeavours to effect a 
 junction with Glua.sdanovich, was now, in des- 
 peration, endeavouring to regain the remainder 
 of the army on the Mincio. Napoleon made his 
 numerous staff mount on horseback ; and, hav- 
 ing ordered the officer bearing the flag of truce 
 to be brought before him, directed the bandage 
 to be taken from his eyes, and immediately told 
 the astonished Austrian that he was in the mid- 
 dle of the French army, and in presence of its 
 general-in-chief, and that, unless they laid down 
 their arms in ten minutes, he would put them all 
 to the sword. The officer, deceived by the 
 splendid cwtese by which he was surrounded, 
 returned to his division, and recommended a 
 surrender; and the troops, cut oft' from their 
 companions, and exhausted by fatigue and dis- 
 aster, laid down their arms. When they entered 
 the town, they had the mortification of discover- 
 ing not only that they had capitulated to a third 
 of their numbers, but missed the opportunity of 
 making prisoner the conqueror who had filled 
 the world with his renown. t 
 
 On the following day both parties prepared for 
 
 * Th., viii., 373, 374. Nap., iii., 242. Jom., viii., 320. 
 t Th., viii., 374. Nap., in., 242. 
 
 t Nap., ill., 243, 245. Th., vui., 375. Jom., Tiii., 326, 
 327. Bot., 1., 453. 
 
1T96.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 411 
 
 a decisive enslavement. The Imperialists under 
 Wurm.ser were twenty-five thousand strong, tlie 
 corps of Qua.sdanovich, and that which blocka- 
 ded Peschiera, being detached, and unable to 
 take any part in the battle; the French about 
 twenty-three thousand. Both parties were drawn 
 up in the plain at right angles to the mountains, 
 on which each rested a wing; the French right 
 was uncovered, while the Imperialists' left was 
 supported by the mill of Medola. Augereau 
 commanded the centre, Massena the left, Verdier 
 the right ; but the principal hopes of Napoleon 
 were rested on the division of Serrurier, which 
 had orders to march all night, and fall, when the 
 action was fully engaged, on the rear of the ene- 
 . mv. The soldiers on both sides were 
 August 0. exhausted with fatigue, but all felt that 
 on the result of tiiis contest depended the fate of 
 Italy.* 
 
 Wurmser fell into the same error as Bayalitch 
 had done in the preceding engagement, that of 
 extending his right along the heights, in order to 
 open a communication with Gluasdanovich, who 
 ■was within hearing of his artillery. To favour 
 this movement, Napoleon drew back his left, 
 while at the same time he accumulated his for- 
 ces against the Austrians' right; Marmont, with 
 a powerful battery of heavy artillery, thundered 
 against the post of Medola, which 
 Decisive bat- Verdier, with three battaUons of 
 
 tie at Medola. ,.' ,., . , « . ^i 
 
 grenadiers, speedily carried. At the 
 same time. General Fiorilla, who commanded 
 the division of Serrurier, drawn off' from Man- 
 tua, came up in the rear of the Austrians, and 
 completed their confusion by a vigorous attack, 
 which had wellnigh carried off' Wurmser him- 
 self. Seeing the decisive moment arrived, Na- 
 poleon ordered a general charge by all his for- 
 ces ; and the Austrians, pressed in front by Au- 
 gereau and Massena, threatened in rear by Fio- 
 rilla, and turned on their left by Verdier, fell 
 back at all points. The excessive fatigue of the 
 Republican troops prevented their pursuing the 
 broken enemy far, who fell back behind the 
 Mincio, with the loss of two thousand killed and 
 wounded, one thousand prisoners, and twenty 
 pieces of cannon. t 
 
 This action, the importance of which is not 
 to be estimated by the number of troops engaged, 
 was decisive of the fate of Italy. With a view 
 to prevent Wurmser from reassembling his scat- 
 tered forces. Napoleon, on the following day, 
 . _, g sent Massena to raise the siege of Pes- 
 
 ^^ ■ chiera, and, after an obstinate engage- 
 ment, he succeeded in routing the Austrian di- 
 vision before that place, with the loss of ten pie- 
 ces of cannon and five hundred prisoners. In 
 this action a young colonel particularly distin- 
 guished himself, named Suchkt, afterward Duke 
 of Albufera. At the same time Napoleon ad- 
 vanced to Verona, which the Austrians aban- 
 . ... doned on his approach, and Massena, 
 
 August 11. r. 1- 1 . 1 • ■ u- J 
 
 after some slight .skirmishing, resumed 
 his old positions at Rivoli and Montebaldo; 
 while Wurmser, having revictualled Mantua, 
 and raised its garrison to fifteen thousand men, 
 composed chiefly of fresh troops, resumed his 
 former station at Roveredo, and in the fastnesses 
 of the Tyrol.! 
 
 By this expedition Wurmser had relieved 
 Mantua, and supplied it with a garrison of fresh 
 tDDops ; but he had lost nearly twenty thousand 
 
 * .Tom , viii., 32S. Th., viii., 378, 379. 
 
 + Nap., iii., 246. Th., viii., 379. Joni.. viii., 331. 
 
 t Nap. iii., 247, 248. Jom., viii., 333, 335. 
 
 men and sixty pieces of cannon ; and the spirit 
 of his soldiers was, by fatigue, defeat, and disas- 
 ter, completely broken. The great successes 
 which attended the French arms are mainly to 
 be ascribed to the extraordinary vigour, activity, 
 and talent displayed by their general-in-chief. 
 The Austrian plan of attack was founded on an 
 undue confidence in their own powers; they 
 thought the main body under Wurmser would 
 be able to defeat the French army, and raise the 
 siege of Mantua, while the detachment under 
 Q,uasdanovich would cut off" their retreat : and 
 it must be admitted in favour of this plan, that 
 it was on the point of being attended with com- 
 plete success, and against a general and troops 
 of less resolution, unquestionably would have 
 been so. When opposed, however, causes of the 
 to the vigour and activity of Napo- success of the 
 leon, it offered the fairest opportunity French. ■ 
 for decisive defeat. The two corps of the Impe- 
 rialists could communicate only by Roveredo and 
 the upper end of the Lake of Guarda, a circuit; 
 of above sixty miles, while the French, occupy- 
 ing a central station between them, at its south- 
 ern extremity, were enabled, by a great exertion of 
 activity, to bring a superior force first against the 
 one, and then against the other. Their successes, 
 however, were dearly purchased ; above seven 
 thousand men had been killed and wounded; 
 Wurmser carried with him three thousand pris- 
 oners into the Tyrol ; and the whole siege equi- 
 page of Mantua had fallen into the hands of the 
 enemy.* 
 
 The Democratic party in all the Italian towns 
 were thrown into transports of joy at this suc- 
 cess ; and the rejoicings among them at Milan, 
 Bologna, and Modena were proportioned to the 
 terror with which they had formerly been inspi- 
 red. But Napoleon, judging more accurately of 
 his position, and seeing the siege of Mantua was 
 to be commenced anew, while Wurmser, with 
 forty thousand men, was still on the watch in the 
 Tyrol, deemed prudence and precaution more 
 than ever necessary. He did not attempt, there- 
 fore, to collect a second battering train for the 
 siege of that fortress, but contented himself with 
 a simple blockade, in maintaining which during 
 the autumnal months, his troops became ex- 
 tremely sickly, from the pestilential atmosphere 
 of its marshes. To the powers in the southern 
 parts of the Peninsula who had, during the tem- 
 porary success of the Austrians, giv- 5,^^^^^^ „(. 
 en indication 01 hostile designs, he Mantua resu- 
 wrote in the most menacing strain; med. Forma- 
 Ihe King of Naplfes was threatened tionofthePo- 
 with an attack from seventy thou- ^^'^ '^^"'"' 
 sand French if he violated the armistice; the 
 papal legate obtained pardon for a revolt at Fer- 
 rara only by the most abject submissions ; the 
 Venitians were informed that he was aware of 
 their armaments, though he still kept up negotia- 
 tions, and continued lo live at their expen.se; 
 while the King of Piedmont received commands 
 to complete the destruction of the guerilla parties 
 which infested the mountainous parts of his do- 
 minions. To the Milanese, on the other hand, 
 who had remained faithful to France during its 
 transient reverses, he wrote in the most flattering 
 terms, and gave them leave to raise troops for 
 their common defence against Lhe imperial for- 
 ces. The mo.st ardent of the youth of Lombardy 
 were speedily enrolled under their banners; but 
 a more efficient force was formed out of the 
 
 * Nap., iii., 248, 250. Th., riu., 381. 
 
412 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 Poles, who, since the last partition of their un- 
 happy country,* had wandered without a home 
 through Europe, and now flocked in such num- 
 bers to the Italian standard as to lay the founda- 
 tion ol'the Polish legion, which afterward became 
 so renowned in the imperial wars. 
 
 The troops on both sides remained in a state 
 of repose for thi-ee weeks after this terrible strug- 
 gle, during which Wurmser was assiduously 
 employed in reorganizing and recruiting his for- 
 ces, while Napoleon received considerable re-en- 
 forcements from the army of Kellemian and 
 the interior of France. The numbers on both 
 sides were, at the end of August, nearly equal ; 
 Wurmser's forces having been raised to nearly 
 fifty thousand men by additions from the heredita- 
 ry states, and Napoleon's to the same amount 
 b}'^ the junction of part of Kellerman's forces.t 
 Untaught by former disasters, of the imprudence 
 of forming jplans at a distance for the regulation 
 Wurmser °^ ''^^^^ annies, the Aulic Council 
 again advan- again framed and transmitted to 
 ces, and the Wurmser a plan for the expulsion 
 French issue ^f the French from the line of the 
 forth to meet ^^jj^g According to this design, 
 he was to leave twenty thousand 
 men, under Davidowich, to guard Roveredo and 
 the valley of the Adige, and descend himself, 
 with thirty thousand, by the gorges of the Brenta 
 to Bassano, and so reach the plains of Padua. 
 Thus, notwithstanding their Ibnner disasters, 
 they were about again to commit the same error, 
 of dividing their force into tw"o columns, while 
 Napoleon occupied a central position equidistant 
 from both ;i with this difference, that, instead of 
 a lake, they had now a mass of impassable 
 mountains between them. 
 
 Napoleon, at the same time, resolved to re- 
 sume the offensive, in order to prevent any de- 
 tachments from the imperial army into Bavaria, 
 where the Archduke Charles was now severely 
 pressed by Moreau. The two annies broke up 
 at the same time, Wurmser descending the 
 Brenta, and Napoleon ascending the Adige. 
 Foreseeing the possibility of a descent upon 
 Mantua during his absence, the French general 
 left Kilmaine, with three thousand men, to occu- 
 py Legnago and Verona, while ten thousand 
 still maintained the blockade of Mantua, and he 
 himself, with thirty thousand, ascended the T}'- 
 rol by the two roads on the banks of the Adige, 
 and that on the western side of the Lake of 
 Guarda.§ 
 
 The French were the first to commence opera- 
 3d Sept ^io^s. Early in September, Vaubois, 
 with the division of^ Sauret, ascended 
 the lake, and, after several combats, reached Tor- 
 tola, at its upper extremity. On the same day. 
 Napoleon, with the divisions of Massena and 
 Augereau, arrived in front of the advanced posts 
 of the Austrians at Seiravale, on the Adige, and 
 4th Sc t '^^ ^^^ following day attacked their posi- 
 tion. The Imperialists stood finn; but 
 Napoleon sent a cloud of light troops on the 
 heights on either side of their columns, and, the 
 moment they began to waver, he made so vigor- 
 ous a charge along the chaussee with the hus- 
 sars, that the Austrians were driven back in con- 
 
 * Nap., iu.. 251, 253. Th., viii., 382, 384. Bot., i., 454. 
 Hard., 111., 346. 
 
 t The sick and wounded in the Freucli army at this pe- 
 riod were no less than fifteen thousand. Confidential De- 
 spatch, 25?A j4u£r- — Corresp., Conf., i., 441. 
 
 t Th., viii., 393, 394. Nap., iii., 256. 
 
 « Th., viii., 394. Bot., i., 460. Nap., iii., 256. 
 
 fusion, and the Republicans entered Roveredo 
 pell-mell with the fugitives.* 
 
 Davidowich rallied his broken divisions in the 
 defile of Galliano, a foimidable pass on the banks 
 of the Adige, formed where the precipices of the 
 Alps approach so closely to the river that there 
 is only the breadth of four hundred toises left be- 
 tween them. An old castle, which the Austrians 
 had strengthened and mounted M-ith cannon, was 
 placed at the edge of the precipice, and a ruined, 
 wall stretched across the gorge, from the foot of 
 the rocks to the margin of the stream. Napo- 
 leon threw his light troops on the Defeat of Da- 
 mountains upon his own right, pla- vidowich near 
 ced a battery which commanded CaUiano. 
 the Austrian cannon, and forming a close col- 
 umn of ten battalions, precipitated them along 
 the high road upon the enemy. Nothing could 
 withstand their impetuosity, the Imperialists 
 were routed ; horse, foot, and cannon i-ushed ia 
 confusion through the narrow defile in their rear; 
 and the Republican cavalrj', charging furiously 
 along the chaussee, drove them, in the utmost 
 disorder, towards Trent. Seven hundred prison- 
 ers, and fifteen pieces of cannon fell into the 
 hands of the victors ; and on the Ibllow- ^^^ ^ 
 ing day Napoleon entered that city, the 
 capital of the Italian Tyrol, while the discomfit- 
 ed remains of Davidowich's corps retired behind 
 the Lavis.t 
 
 The intelligence of this disaster, so far from 
 stopping, only accelerated the march Napoleon ad- 
 of Wurmser through the defiles of vances against 
 the Brenta. He now imagined that Wurmser. 
 Napoleon intended to penetrate by Brixen and the 
 Brenner into Gennany, in order to co-operate with 
 Moreau in the plains of Bavaria, and the Aus- 
 trian veteran immediately conceived the bold de- 
 sign of hastening with his whole disposable force 
 down the Val Sugana into the plain of Bassano, 
 turning rapidly to the right, seizing upon Vero- 
 na, and both raising the siege of Mantua and 
 preventing the return of Napoleon into Italy. 
 The French general, who, by treachery at the 
 Austrian headquarters, was uniformly put in 
 possession of his adversar}''s plans belbre they 
 could 1)6 put into execution, immediately per- 
 ceived the danger which would result from this 
 measure on the part of the enemy, and resolved 
 to oppose it by another, equally bold, on his own 
 side. This was to leave the division of Vaubois 
 alone in the Tyrol to make head against David- 
 owich, and descend himself, with twenty-four 
 thousand men, the defdes of the Brenta, and at- 
 tack Wurmser before he had got round to Vero- 
 na. In doing this, he ran the risk, it is true, of 
 being himself shut up in the terrible defiles of 
 the Val Sugana, surrounded by precipices and 
 peaks of a stupendous elevation, between Wurm- 
 ser in front and Davidowich in rear ; but he 
 trusted to the resolution of his troop.s to over- 
 come every obstacle, and hoped, by driving his 
 antagonist back on the Adige, to compel his 
 whole force to lay down their arms.j 
 
 At break of day on the Gth, the French troops 
 were in motion, and they reached Action near 
 Borgo di Val Sugana at night, after PrimoKino, 
 having marched ten leagues. On the '^ ^^" ^^ 
 following morning they continued ^"?'*"'''- 
 their march, and at the entrance of the narrow 
 defiles came up with the Austrian rear-guard, 
 strongly posted near Primolano. Napoleon putt 
 
 * Th., Till., 396. Nap., lii., 259. 
 
 + Nap., iii., 258, 260. Th., viii.. 397, 398. 
 
 i Th., viii., 399. Nap., iii., 262. Hard., iii., 448. 
 
1796] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 413 
 
 in practice the same manoeuvre which had suc- 
 ceeded so well at Calliano, covering the mount- 
 ains on either side with his tirailleurs, and form- 
 ing a close column of infantry to attack tiie pass 
 along the high road. Nothing could resist the 
 impetuosity of the French troops. The Austri- 
 ans, who were greatly inferior in number, being 
 only the rear-guard of the main force, were rout- 
 ed with the loss of two thousand prisoners and 
 nine pieces of cannon. The fugitives were pur- 
 sued as far as Cremona, where headquarters 
 ■were established. Napoleon, in his eagerness 
 to pursue the enemy, outrode all his suite, and 
 passed the night alone, wrapped in his cloak, on 
 the ground, in the midst of a regiment of infan- 
 iry who bivouacked round the town. A private 
 soldier shared with him his rations, and remind- 
 ed him of it, after he became emperor, in the 
 camp at Boulogne.* 
 
 On the same day in which this action took 
 place in the gorges of the Val Sugana, the ad- 
 vanced guard of Wurmser, under Mazaros, had 
 reached to Verona, and was already skirmishing 
 ■with the posts of the Republicans on the fortifi- 
 cations which had been erected round that city, 
 when they were recalled to make head against 
 the terrible enemy which assailed their rear. 
 Wurmser Wurmser collected all his forces at 
 defeated near Bassano to endeavour to bar the 
 Bassano by passages and throw the French back 
 Massena. jj^f^ .Jjg defiles ; the heavy infantry 
 and artillery were placed on a strong position in 
 front of the town and round its mouldering tow- 
 ers, while six battalions of light troops occupied 
 the opening of the valley into the plain. These 
 "were speedily overthrown, and the divisions of 
 Massena and Augereau, emerging from the de- 
 files, found themselves in presence of a brilliant 
 force of twenty thousand men, with a powerful 
 artillery, drawn up in battle array. But the 
 Austrians, discouraged by repeated defeats, made 
 but a feeble resistance. Massena speedily rout- 
 ed them on the right, while Augereau broke them 
 on the left : the fugitives rushed in confusion into 
 the town, where they were speedily followed by 
 the victorious troops, who made four thousand 
 prisoners, and captured thirty pieces of cannon, 
 besides almost all the baggage, pontoons, and 
 ammunition of the army.t 
 
 During the confusion of this defeat, the Aus- 
 trians got themselves separated from each other ; 
 Cluasdanovich, with three thousand men, was 
 thrown back towards Friuli, while Wurmser, 
 He tlirows with sixteen thousand, took the road 
 himself into to Mantua. The situation of the vet- 
 Mantua, eran marshal was all but desperate : 
 Massena was pressing his rear, while Porto 
 Legnago and Verona were both in the hands of 
 the enemy, and the loss of all his pontoons at 
 Bassano rendered it impossible to pass the Adige 
 but at one or other of these places. Fortunately 
 for him, the battalion which occupied Porto Leg- 
 nago had been M-ithdrawn to Verona during tJie 
 attack on that place, and the one destined to re- 
 place it had not yet arrived. By a rapid march 
 he reached that town before the Republicans, and 
 thus got his troops across the Adige. Napoleon, 
 following his prey with breathless anxiety, no 
 sooner discovered that the passage at Legnago 
 was secured, than he pushed Massena across the 
 river to Cerra, in order to cut him from the road 
 to Mantua. But the Austrians fought with the 
 
 courage of despair, and their cavalry, five thou- 
 sand strong, who were unbroken, and whose 
 spirit had not suflered by disaster, proved irre- 
 sistible to their enemies. Napoleon himself, 
 who had come up during the ensa£rement, had 
 great difficulty in saving himself "by'fiight; and 
 Wurmser, who arrived a few minutes after, 
 deemed himself so secure of his antagonist that 
 he recommended to his dragoons to take him 
 alive. Having missed so brilliant a stroke, the 
 old marshal continued his march, passed the 
 Molenilla, cut to pieces a body of eight hundred 
 infantry which endeavoured to inteiTupt his prog- 
 ress, and entered Mantua in a species of triumph, 
 which threw a ray of glory over his long series 
 of disasters.* 
 
 Encouraged by these successes, he still en- 
 deavoured to keep the field with twen- 
 ty thousand infantry and five thou- ^^^ ^^P'* 
 sand horse, and soon after his cuirassiers de- 
 stroyed a regiment of light infantiy at Due 
 Castelli. But this was the termination of his 
 transient gleam of prosperity. Napoleon brought 
 up the greater part of his forces, and soon after 
 Augereau stormed Porto Legnago, and made 
 prisoners a thousand men and fifteen pieces of 
 cannon : a stroke wliich, by depriving Wm-mser 
 of the means of passing the Adige, threw him 
 back on Mantua. On the 19th he was attacked 
 by the divisions of Augereau and Massena with 
 an equal force. The Austrian cavalrj' at first 
 drove back Augereau, and the battle seemed for 
 a time doubtful ; but a vigorous charge of Mas- 
 sena in the centre restored affairs, and Wurmser 
 was at length driven back into Mantua with the 
 loss of three thousand men and twenty pieces of 
 cannon. Two days afterward he threw a bridge 
 over the Po and attacked Governolo, one of the 
 fortresses erected by the French at the conclu- 
 sion of the dikes, with the design of cutting hi.s 
 way through to the Adige ; but he v/as repulsed 
 with the loss of six hundred men and four pieces 
 of cannon; and in the beginning of October 
 Kilmaine resumed his old lines round the town, 
 and the Austrians were shut in on every side 
 within its walls. Wurmser killed the horses of 
 his numerous and splendid cavaliT, salted their 
 carcasses, and made evev}' preparation for a 
 vigorous defence, while Napoleon despatched 
 his aid-de-camp Marmont, afterward Duke of 
 Ragusa, with the standards taken in the.se glori- 
 ous actions, to lay at the feet of the French gov- 
 ernraent.t 
 
 By the result of these conflicts the Austrian 
 army in the field was reduced from 
 fifty thousand to fifleen thousand ^l^^^. 
 men, oi whom twelve thousand, tm- 
 der Davidowich, had taken refuge in the defiles 
 leading to Mount Bremer, while three thousand, 
 under Cluasdanovich, were in the mountains of 
 Friuli. Wunnser, it is true, had brought six- 
 teen thousand into Mantua ; but this force, accu- 
 mulated in a besieged and unhealtliy town, wa.s 
 of no real service during the remainder of the 
 campaign, and rather, by increasing the. number 
 of useless mouths within the place, accelerated 
 the period of its ultimate surrender. Before the 
 end of October ten thousand of the garrison were 
 in the hospitals, so that the besieged were un- 
 able either to make any u.se of their superflu- 
 ous numbers, or get quit of the imsennceable 
 persons who consumed their scanty provisions. 
 
 * Bnt., i., 464. Nap., iii., 263, 2S1. Th., viii , 400 
 
 t Th., Tiii., 401, 402. Nap., iii., 265, 266. Bot., i., 465. 
 
 * Th., viii., 404. Nap., iii., 270. Bot., i., 465. Hard., 
 i., 447, 449. 
 t Nap., iii., 273. Bot., i., 472, 473. Th., viii., 405. 
 
414 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 But these successes, great as they were, had not 
 been purchased without a very heavy loss to the 
 French army, who, in these rapid actions, were 
 ■weakened by above fifteen thousand men, in 
 killed, wounded, and prisoners.* 
 
 Both parties remained in inactivity for a con- 
 Vait efforts siderablc time after these exhausting 
 on both sides elforts, during which the Austrians 
 to recruit were energetically employed in re- 
 their forces, pairing their losses, and the Republi- 
 cans in drawing forces from the other side of the 
 Alps. They took advantage of the delay to or- 
 ganize Revolutionary powers throughout all the 
 north of Italy. Bologna and Ferrara were united 
 under a provisional government; Republican 
 lorces and Jacobin clubs established, and all the 
 machinery of Democracy put in full operation ; 
 Modena was revolutionized, the old government 
 replaced by a popular assembly, and French 
 troops admitted within its walls; while legions 
 of National Guards were organized throughout 
 the whole of Lombardy.t 
 
 But more efficient auxiliaries were approach- 
 ing. Twelve battalions from the army of La 
 Vendee, besides the remainder of the forces of 
 Kellerman, joyfully crossed the Alps, happy to 
 exchange the scene of utter penury and inglori- 
 ous warfare for the luxurious quarters and shi- 
 ning achievements of the Italian army. In the 
 end of October, Alvinzi, who had assumed the 
 command of the army in Friuli, had assembled 
 forty thousand men under his standards, Avhile 
 the corps of Davidowichwas raised, by the junc- 
 tion of a large force of T)Tolese militia, a force 
 admirably adapted for mountain warfare, to eigh- 
 teen thousand men. To oppose this mass of as- 
 sailants. Napoleon had twelve thousand men un- 
 der Vaubois, on the Lavis, in front of Trent; 
 twenty thousand on the Brenta and the Adige ob- 
 serving Alvinzi, and ten thousand guarding the 
 lines round Mantua. The disproportion, there- 
 by J fore, was very great in every quarter, and 
 Napoleon, justly alarmed at his situation, 
 and chagrined at the Director}' for not putting a 
 larger force at his disposal, wrote to the govern- 
 ment that he was about to lose the whole of his 
 Italian conquests.j§ 
 
 The Austrian preparations being completed, 
 Alvinzi, on the 1st of November, threw two 
 bridges over the Piave, and advanced against 
 
 * Hard., iii., 450. Nap., iii., 273. Jom., ix., 126. Th., 
 iii.,406. -t Jom., ix., 133, 145. 
 
 i Th.,Tiii.,448,449. .Tom., ix., 158. Nap., iii., 345, 346. 
 
 <l Napoleon's letter was in these terms ; " Mantua cannot 
 be reduced before the mi'klle of February ; you 
 Oct. 8th, 1/96. .^^jjj perceive from that how critical our situation 
 is; and our political system is, if possible, still worse. Peace 
 ■with Naples is indispensable ; an alliance with Genoa and 
 Turin necessary. Lose no time in taking the people of Lom- 
 Ijardy, Modena, Bolog^na, and Ferrara under your protection, 
 and, above all, send re-enforcements. The emperor has 
 thrice re-formed his army since the commencement of the 
 campai^. Everything is going wrong in Italy ; the pres- 
 tige of our forces is dissipated ; the enemy now count our 
 ranks. It is indispensable that you take into your instant 
 consideration the critical situation of the Italian army, and 
 forthwith secure it friends both among kings and people. 
 The influence of Rome is incalculable ; you did wrong in 
 breaking with that power ; 1 would have temporized with it, 
 as we have done with Venice and Genoa. Whenever the 
 general in Italy is not the centre of negotiation as well as 
 military operations, the greatest risks will be incurred. You 
 may ascribe this language to ambition ; but I am satiated 
 with honours, and my health is so broken that 1 must implore 
 you to give me a successor. I can no longer sit on horse- 
 back ; my courage alone is unshaken. Everything u,as 
 ready for the explosion at Genoa, but Faypoult thought it 
 expedient to delay. We must concihate Genoa till the new 
 order of things is more firmly established." — Confident, Dee- 
 patches, Oct. 8, 1796, ii., 92, 93. 
 
 Massena, whose headquarters were Not.6. ai- 
 at Bassano. At the approach of the vinzi again 
 Imperialists in such superior force, advances, 
 the French fell back to Vicenza, and Napoleon 
 hastened, with the division of Augereau and the 
 reserve, to their support. On the 6th a general 
 battle took place. Massena overthrew the Aus- 
 trian left, commanded by Provera and Liptay, 
 and drove them with loss over the Brenta; while 
 Napoleon himself defeated the right under Q,uas- 
 danovich, and would have carried the town of 
 Bassano, which the Imperialists occupied in 
 force, had not Hohenzollern, who advanced at 
 the head of the Austrian reserve, made good the 
 place till nightfall. But early on the following 
 morning the general received intelligence from 
 Vaubois, in the Tyrol, which not only interrupt- 
 ed his career of success, but rendered an imme- 
 diate retreat on the part of the whole Republican 
 army unavoidable.* 
 
 In obedience to the orders he had received, 
 that general, on the same day on ^^^ j p^. 
 which the Austrians crossed the feat of Vau- 
 Piave, commenced an attack on their bois by the 
 position on the Lavis ; but he was Imperialists, 
 not only received with the utmost intrepidity, but 
 driven back in disorder through the town of Trent, 
 to the defile of Galliano, with the loss of four 
 thousand men. There he made a stand; but 
 Davidowich, having caused a large part of his 
 forces to cross the right bank of the Adige, passed 
 that post, and was moving rapidly down on Mon- 
 tebaldo and Rivoli, so as to threaten his commu- 
 nications with Verona and the remainder of the 
 army. Nothing was left for Vaubois but to re- 
 tire in haste towards Verona,+ which was seri- 
 ously menaced by the increasing forces of the 
 Tyrolese army, while their progress on the Mon- 
 tebaldo could only be arrested by bringing up 
 Joubert in the utmost haste from the lines of 
 Mantua. 
 
 No sooner was this disastrous intelligence re- 
 ceived by Napoleon, than he drew M^poieonhas- 
 back his whole force through Vi- tens m person 
 cenza to Verona, while Alvinzi, to the plateau 
 who was himself preparing to re- ofRi^oh. 
 tire, after his check on the preceding day, im- 
 mediately resumed the offensive. Napoleon in 
 person proceeded, with such troops as he could 
 collect, in the utmost haste to the Montebaldo, 
 where he found the division of Vaubois all as- 
 sembled on the plateau of Rivoli, and so much 
 re-enforced as to be able to withstand an attack. 
 He here deemed it necessary to make a severe 
 example of the regiments whose panic had so 
 nearly proved fatal to the army. Collecting the 
 troops into a circle, he addressed them with a 
 severe tone, in these words: " Soldiers, I am 
 displeased with you. You have evinced neither 
 discipline, nor valour, nor constancy. You hare 
 allowed yourselves to be chased from positions 
 where a handful of resolute men might have ar- 
 rested an army. Soldiers of the 39th and 8.5th, 
 you are no longer French soldiers. Chief of the 
 staff, cause it to be written on their standards, 
 TJic7i are ow hngcr of flu: army of Italy." These 
 teiTible words, pronounced with a menacing 
 voice, filled these brave regiments with conster- 
 nation. The laws of discipline could not restrain 
 the sounds of grief which burst from their ranks. 
 They broke their array, and, crowding round the 
 genera], entreated that he would lead them into 
 
 ' Nap., iii., 437. Th., viii., 543. 
 
 t Nap., iii., 348. 349. Th., vui., 453, 455. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 415 
 
 action, and give them an opportunity of showing 
 ■whether they were not of the army of Italy. Na- 
 poleon consoled them by some kind expressions,* 
 and, feigning to yield to their prayers, promised 
 to suspend the order, and a few days after they 
 behaved with uncommon gallantry, and regained 
 their place in his esteem. 
 
 Notwithstanding his check on the Brenta, the 
 -n . . operationsofAlvinzi had hitherto been 
 
 Keturns to c ii .un-t 
 
 Caidiero, crowned With the most brilliant suc- 
 and IS there cess. He had regained possession of 
 defeated, jj^e whole of the Italian Tyrol, and of 
 all the plain of Italy between that river and the 
 Adige. But the most ditiicult part still remained, 
 ■which was, to pass the latter stream in the face 
 of the enemy, and effect a junction with the right 
 ■wing under Davidowich, which had achieved 
 such important advantages. He followed the 
 retiring columns of the Republicans, who took a 
 position on the heights of Caidiero, determined 
 to defend the road to Verona to the very utter- 
 most. Napoleon arrived there from the Monte- 
 baldo on the evening of the 10th, and resolved to 
 Nov 11 s-^l^^ck Alvinzi on the following day, who 
 had occupied a strong position directly in 
 front, his left resting on the marshes of Areola, 
 and his right on the heights of Caldiero and the 
 village of Colognola. Massena was directed to 
 attack the right, which appeared the most acces- 
 sible, and his advanced guard succeeded in as- 
 cending an eminence surmounted by a mill, 
 which the Austrian general had neglected to oc- 
 cupy; but the Imperialists, returning in force, 
 regained the post and made the brigade prisoners. 
 The action continued the remainder of the day 
 along the whole line, without decisive success to 
 either party; but the rain, which fell in torrents, 
 and the mud which clogged their wheels, pre- 
 vented the French artillery from being brought 
 up to meet the lire of the Austrian cannon, 
 which, in position, thundered with terrible effect 
 upon the Republican columns. t Wearied and 
 dispirited, they drew back at night, yielding, for 
 the first time in the campaign, the victory in a 
 pitched battle to their enemies. 
 
 The situation of Napoleon was now, to all ap- 
 pearance, utterly desperate. He had lost four 
 thousand men under Vaubois, three thousand 
 in the recent actions with Alvinzi; his troops, 
 dispirited with these disasters, had lost much of 
 their confidence and courage, and a depressing 
 feeling of the great strength of the enemy had 
 gained every breast. The army, it was true, 
 had still the advantage of a central position at 
 Verona, in the midst of their enemies ; but they 
 could resume the offensive in no direction with 
 any appearance of success. In the north, they 
 were arrested by the defiles of the Tyrol ; in the 
 east, by the position of Caidiero, known by re- 
 cent experience to be impregnable ; in the south, 
 the blockading force was hardly able to make 
 head against the frequent sorties of the garrison 
 of Mantua. The peril of their situation rapidly 
 gained the minds of the French soldiers, more 
 capable than any others in Europe of judging of 
 the probable course of events, and extremely sus- 
 ceptible of strong impressions ; and it required 
 all the art of the general, aided by the eloquence 
 of his lieutenants, to hinder them from sinking 
 under their misfortunes. Napoleon wrote in the 
 most desponding terms to the Directory, but in 
 public he assumed the appearance of confidence ; 
 and the wounded in the city, hearing of the peril 
 
 of the army, began to issue, with their wounds 
 yet unstanched, from the hospitals. *t 
 
 But the genius of Napoleon did not desert him 
 in this eventful crisis. Without com- 
 municating his design to any one, he or- ^'^ °^*' 
 dered the whole army to be under arms '^^'^'^" 
 at nightfall on the 14th of Novenrber, and they 
 began their march in three columns, crossed the 
 Adige, and took the road to Milan. The hour 
 of departure, the route, the imiversal ignorance 
 in regard to their destination, aU inspired the be- 
 lief that they were about to retreat, and relin- 
 quish to their insulting rivals the plains of Italy. 
 Breathless with anxiety, the troops defiled through 
 the gates of Verona ; not a word was spoken in 
 the ranks ; grief filled every heart ; in the dark 
 columns, the measured tread of marching mea 
 alone was heard, when suddenly the order was 
 given to turn rapidly to the left, and all the corps, 
 descending the course of the Adige, arrived be- 
 fore daybreak at Ronco. There they found a 
 bridge of boats prepared, and the whole army 
 was rapidly passed to the other side, and found 
 itself in an immense sea of morasses. A gen- 
 eral feeling of joy was immediately diffused over 
 the army: the soldiers now perceived that the 
 contest for Italy was not abandoned, and passing 
 quickly from one extreme to another, prepared 
 with alacrity to follow the footsteps of their lead- 
 er, without any regard to the fearful odds to 
 which they were exposed. j 
 
 Having perceived, during the former action ai 
 Caidiero, that the position was too ^^ ^ovesdown 
 strong to be carried by an attack the Adige, to 
 in front. Napoleon had resolved to turn the posi- 
 assail it in flank, by the village of ^'O" of C^iidiero 
 Areola, and for that purpose placed ^ '^^ *" 
 his army in the midst of the morasses, which 
 
 * Nap., iii., 353. Th., viii., 455. 
 t Nap., iii., 353. Th., yiii., 457. 
 
 * Th., viii., 458, 460. Nap., iii., 356, 357. 
 t The gloomy anticipations of Napoleon at this period are 
 strongly depicted in the following interesting secret despatch^ 
 to the Directory : " If the events I have to recount are not 
 propitious, you will not ascribe it to the army ; its inferi- 
 ority, and the exhaustion of its brave men, give me every 
 reason to fear for it. Perhaps we are on the eve of losing- 
 Italy. None of the promised succours have arrived ; they 
 are all arrested at Lyons or .Marseilles. The activity of our 
 government at the commencement of the war can alone give 
 you an idea of the energy of the court of Vienna ; hardly a 
 day elapses that they do not receive five thousand men, and 
 for two months I have only been joined by a single battalion. 
 I do my duty ; the army does its part ; my soul is lacerated^ 
 but my conscience is at ease. I never received a fourth 
 part of the succours which the minister of war announces in 
 his despatches. 
 
 " To-day I shall allow the troops to repose, but to-morrow 
 we shall renew our operations. I despair of preventing the 
 raising the blockade of Mantua ; should thatdisaster arrive^ 
 we shall soon be liehind the Adda, if not over the Alps. The 
 wounded are few, but they are the elite of the army. Our 
 best otficers are struck down ; the army of Italy, reduced to 
 a handful of heroes, is exhausted. The heroes of Lodi, of 
 Millesimo, of Castiglione, of Bassano, are dead or in hos- 
 pital ; there remains only their reputation, and the pride 
 they have given to the soldiers. Joubert, Lanusse, Victor, 
 Murat, Chariot, are wounded ; we are abandoned in the ex- 
 tremity of Italy. 
 
 " I have lost few soldiers, but those who have fallen are 
 the flower of the army, whom it is impossible to replace. 
 Such as remain have devoted themselves to death. Perhaps 
 the hour of the brave Augereau, of the intrepid Massena, of 
 Berthier.is about to strike ; what then will become of these 
 brave soldiers? This consideration renders mc circumspect ; 
 I know not how to brave death, when it would so certainly 
 be the ruin of those who have so long been the object of my 
 solicitude. 
 
 " In a few days we shall make a last effort ; shonld for- 
 tune prove favourable, we shall take Mantua, and with it 
 Italy. Had I received the 83d, three thousand five hundred 
 strong, 1 would have answered for everything ; in a few- 
 days forty thousand men will perhaps not give me the same 
 security."— Con^enfia/ Despatch, Nov. 14 ; ii. 246-251. 
 1 tTh., viii., 461. Nap., iii., 357. 
 
416 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 stretched from thence to the banks of the Po. 
 He thought with reason that, on the narrow- 
 causeways which traversed these marshes, the 
 superiority of numbers on the part of the enemy 
 would be unavailing; everything would come 
 to depend on the resolution of the heads of col- 
 umns ; and he hoped that the courage of his sol- 
 diers, restored by being thus brought to combat 
 on equal terms with the enemy, and animated 
 by this novel species of warfare, would prevail 
 over the discipline and tenacity of the Germans. 
 The position which he had chosen was singular- 
 ly well adapted for the purpose in view. Three 
 chaussees branch off from Ronco ; one, following 
 the left bank of the Adige, remounts that river to 
 Verona ; one in the centre leads straight to Ar- 
 eola, by a stone bridge over the little stream of 
 the Alpon; the third, on the right, follows the 
 descending course of the Adige to Albano. 
 Tliree columns were moved forward on these 
 chaussees; that on the left was destined to ap- 
 proach Verona, and observe that town, so as to 
 secure it from any sudden attack of the enemy ; 
 that in the centre, to attack the flank of their po- 
 sition by the village of Areola; that on the right, 
 to cut off their letreat.* 
 
 At daybreak on the 15th, Massena advanced 
 IsthN V °^ ^'^"^ chaussee as far as a .small 
 °'^' eminence, which brought him in sight 
 of the steejiles of Verona, and removed all anxi- 
 ■n jf 1 ^^y ^^ ^'^^'^ tliiarl-er. Augereau, with 
 ?y^f";f"„ the division in the centre, pushed, 
 tions there. . , , . • ^ ' ^ ^ 
 
 Without bemg perceived, as lar as 
 the bridge of Areola ; but his advanced guard 
 was there met by three battalions of Croats, -who 
 kept up so heavy a fire on the head of the col- 
 umn, that, notwithstanding the greatest exertions 
 on the part of the soldiers, they were driven back. 
 In vain Augereau himself hastened to the spot, 
 and led them back to the charge ; the fire at the 
 bridge was so violent, that he was overthrown, 
 and compelled to halt the column. Meanwhile, 
 Alvinzi, whose attention was fixed on Verona, 
 where he imagined the bulk of the enemy's for- 
 ces to be, was confounded in the morning at 
 hearing a violent fire in the marshes. At first 
 he imagined that it was merely a few light 
 troops, but soon intelligence arrived from all 
 quarters that the enemy were advancing in force 
 on all the dikes, and threatened the flank and 
 rear of his position. He immediately despatch- 
 ed two divisions along the chaussees by which 
 the enemy was approaching; that commanded 
 by Mitrouski advanced to defend the village 
 of Areola, while that under Provera marched 
 again.st the division of Massena. The latter 
 column soon commenced an attack on their an- 
 tagonists, but they were unable to withstand the 
 impetuous shock of Massena's grenadiers, and 
 were driven back with heavy loss. Mitrouski, 
 at the same time, passed through Areola, crossed 
 the bridge, and attacked the corps of Augereau ; 
 but they also were repulsed, and followed to the 
 bridge by the victorious French. There com- 
 menced a desperate struggle ; the Republican 
 column advanced with the utmost intrepidity, 
 but they were received with so tremendous a fire 
 from the artillery in front, and a line of infantry 
 stationed along the banks of the Alpon in flank, 
 that they staggered and fell back. Napoleon, 
 deeming the possession of Areola indispensable, 
 not only to his future operations, but to the 
 safety of his own anny, put himself, with his 
 generals, at the head of the column, seized a 
 
 t Nap., ill., 358, 360. Th., viii., 462, 463. 
 
 standard, advanced without shrinking through a 
 tempest of shot, and planted it on the middle of 
 the bridge ; but the fire there became so violent 
 that his grenadiers hesitated, and, seizing the 
 general in their arms, bore him back amid a 
 cloud of smoke, the dead, and the dying. The 
 Austrians instantly rushed over the bridge, and 
 pushed the crowd of fugitives into the marsh, 
 where Napoleon lay up to the middle in water, 
 while the enemy's soldiers for a minute sur- 
 rounded him on all sides. The French grena- 
 diers soon perceived that their commander was 
 left behind; the cry ran through their ranks, 
 " Forward to save the general !" and, returning 
 to the charge, they drove back the Austrians, 
 and extricated Napoleon from his perilous situ- 
 ation. During this terrible strife Lannes re- 
 ceived three wounds. His aid-de-camp, Meuron, 
 was killed by his side, when covering his gener- 
 al with his body, and almost all his personal 
 stafl' were badly wounded.* 
 
 Meanwhile Guieux, who commanded the col- 
 umn which had been directed against Albaredo, 
 had arrived at that place, and was directly in 
 rear of the village of Areola: but it was too late. 
 During the desperate stand there made by the 
 Austrians, Alvinzi had gained time to draw off' 
 his baggage and artillery, arid it was no longer 
 possible to take the enemy in rear. Towards 
 evening the Austrians abandoned Areola, and 
 drew up their army, facing the marshes, at the 
 foot of the heights of Caldiero.t 
 
 During the night. Napoleon, on his side, drew 
 back his forces to the right bank of the .- , j^ ^ 
 Adige, leaving only an advanced guard 
 on the left bank ; while the Austrians reoccu- 
 pied the village of Areola, and all the ground 
 which had been so vehemently disputed on the 
 preceding day. They even advanced, in the 
 confidence of victory, along the dikes, to within 
 six hundred yards of the village of Ronco ; but 
 when they were thus far engaged in the defiles, 
 the French attacked them with the bayonet, and 
 drove back their columns, after an obstinate en- 
 gagement, to the vicinity of Areola. The battle 
 continued the whole day, Avith various success, 
 and at nightfall both parties retired, the Austri- 
 ans over the Alpon, the Republicans across the 
 Adige.; 
 
 During the Mhole of these eventful days, big 
 with the'fate of Italy and the world, the conduct 
 of the Au.strian generals was timid, and unwor- 
 thy of the brave troops whom they commanded. 
 Davidowich, while the contest was raging on 
 the Lower Adige, remained in total inacfivity on 
 the upper part of that stream; while Alvinzi, 
 fettered by secret instructions from the Aulic 
 Council to attempt nothing hazardous. End rather 
 keep on the defensive, in order to lacilitate the 
 hidden negotiations which were going forAvard 
 or about to commence, repeatedly halted in the 
 career of success, and lost the fairest opportuni- 
 ties of crushing his adversaiy. Napoleon, aware, 
 from the treachery which constantly prevailed at 
 the imperial headquarters, of these secret i estric- 
 tions, augmented the irresolution of the com- 
 mander-in-chief by privately despatching intelli- 
 gence from Verona to lum of the approaching 
 mission of Clarke to conduct negotiations for 
 peace, of the conferences opened at Paris with 
 England, and the probability of an in:mediate 
 accommodation. Alvinzi rejected the proposal 
 
 * Nap., iii., 361, 363. Th., viii., 463, 467. O'Meara, i., 
 216. nnd li., 226. t Nap., iii., 364. Th., T,ij., 4t7. 
 
 t Nap., iii., 366, 367. Tli., vui., 458. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 417 
 
 for an armistice which he made, but suspended 
 his movements to join Davidowich, and paraly- 
 zed every successful operation for fear of inju- 
 ring the negotiations. To sucli a length did this 
 timidity proceed, that when, alter the repulse of 
 the French from Areola, his bravest ofhcers be- 
 sought him instantly to form a junction with 
 Davidowich, and terminate the war by a general 
 attack on Verona, instead of tullowing tlie heroic 
 advice, he retired towards Vicenza.* 
 
 Again the sun rose on the dreadful scene of 
 carnage, and both parties advanced, with 
 Nov. 17. (liminiahed numbers but undecaying fu- 
 ry, to the struggle which was to decide the fate 
 of Ital)'. They met in the middle of the dikes, 
 and fought M-ith the utmost animosity. The 
 French column in the centre was routed, and 
 driven back so far, that the Austrian balls fell 
 upon the bridge of Ronco, where the action was 
 restored by a regiment which Najjoleon had pla- 
 ced in ambuscade among the willows on the side 
 of the road, and which attacked the victorious 
 column in tiank, when disordered by success, 
 Avith such vigour, that they were almost all driv- 
 en into the marshes. Massena, on his dike, ex- 
 perienced similar vicissitudes, and was only en- 
 abled to keep his ground by placing himself at 
 the head of the column, and leading the soldiers 
 on with his hat on the point of his sword. To- 
 wards noon, however. Napoleon, perceiving that 
 the enemy were exhausted with fatigue, while 
 his own soldiers were comparatively fresh, deem- 
 ed the moment for decisive success arrived, and 
 ordered a general charge of all his forces along 
 both chaussees ; and, having cleared them of the 
 enemy, formed his troops in order of battle at 
 their extremity, on the linn ground, having the 
 right towards "Porto Legnago, and the left at Ar- 
 eola. By the orders of Napoleon, the garrison 
 of that place issued forth with four pieces ot can- 
 non, so as to take the enemy in rear ; while a 
 body of trumpeters was sent, under cover of the 
 willows, to their extreme left Hank, with orders 
 to sound a charge as soon as the action was fully 
 engaged along the whole line. These measures 
 were completely successful. The Au.strian com- 
 mander, while bravely resisting in front, hearing 
 a cannonade in his rear, and the trumpets of a 
 whole division of cavalry in his Hank, ordered a 
 retreat, and, after a desperate struggle of three 
 days' duration, yielded the victory to his ene- 
 mies. Alvinzi had stationed eight thousand men 
 m echellon along his line of retreat, so that he 
 was enabled to retire in good order, and with very 
 little farther loss.t 
 
 It was so apparent to all the Austrian anny 
 that this last retreat was the result of a secret un- 
 derstanding with the French general, and with a 
 view to the negotiation which was now depend- 
 ing, that they openly and loudly expressed their 
 indignation. One colonel broke his sword in pie- 
 ces, and declared he would no longer serve un- 
 der a commander whose conduct brought dis- 
 grace on his troops. Certain it is that Alvinzi, 
 during this dreadful strife at Areola, had neither 
 evinced the capacity nor the spirit of a general 
 ■worthy to combat with Napoleon ; not that he 
 was, in reality, deficient in either, bin that the 
 ruinous feUers of the Aulic Council paralyzed all 
 his movements ; and the dread of hazarding any- 
 thing on the eve of a negotiation made him throw 
 away every chance of success.: 
 
 * Hard., iv., 67, 75. 
 
 t Nap., lii., 363, 369. Th., viii., 470, 472. Jom., ix., 
 172, 192. t Hurd.,iv., 71,77. 
 
 Vol. I.— G g a 
 
 While this desperate struggle was going for- 
 ward in the marshes of Areola, Da- 
 vidowich, who had opened the cam- Savldowi'ch ^ 
 paign with such brilliant success, ''^' "^"^ 
 was far frour following up his advantages with 
 the vigour which might have been expected. He 
 merely advanced with his forces to the 
 neighbourhood of Verona on the 18th, ^"^^ ^®* 
 following Vaubois, who abandoned the position.? 
 of Corona and Rivoli on his approach ; whereas, 
 had he pressed iiim hard on the preceding days, 
 Napoleon would have been compelled to cross 
 the Adige, and raise the siege of Mantua. With- 
 out losing an instant, the l-'rench general return- 
 ed with a large part of his forces through Vero- 
 na, and compelled Davidowich to retire into the 
 Tyrol, while the French resumed their old posi- 
 tions at Corona and Rivoli ; and Augereau drove 
 them from Dolce, with the loss of one thousand 
 prisoners and nine pieces of cannon. The in- 
 habitants of that town were lost in astonishment 
 when they beheld the anny which had left their 
 walls by the gate of Milan three days before, re- 
 turn in triumph, after so terrible a combat, by 
 the gate of Venice; and, without halting, pass 
 tlirough the town to make head against the fresh 
 enemies who approached from the Tyrol.* 
 
 Alvinzi, when Napoleon was absent in pur- 
 suit of Davidowich, advanced towards Verona, 
 now chiefly occupied by invalids and wounded 
 men. and a universal joy pervaded the army when 
 the order to march in that direction was given; 
 but his old irresolution soon returned; the in- 
 structions of the Aulic Council prevailed over 
 his belter genius, and the final order to retire to 
 Vicenza again spread grief and despair among 
 his heroic foUowers.t 
 
 The results of the battle of Areola, how glori- 
 ous soever to the French arms, were 
 by no means so decisive as those of these actions, 
 the previous victories gained in the 
 campaign. The actions had been most obsti- 
 nately contested; and though the Imperialists ul- 
 timately retired, and Mantua was unrelieved, yet 
 the victors were nearly as much weakened as the 
 vanquished. The loss of the French in all, in- 
 cluding the actions with Davidowich, was fif- 
 teen thousand men, while that of the Austrians 
 did not exceed eighteen thousand. During the 
 confusion consequent on such desperate engage- 
 ments, the garrison of Mantua made frequent 
 sorties ; and Wurmser availed himself with such 
 skill of^the temporary interniption of the block- 
 ade, that considerable convoys of provisions were 
 introduced into the place, and, by putting the gar- 
 rison on half rations, and calculating on the great 
 mortality among the troops, which daily dimin- 
 ished their number, he still held out hopes that 
 he could maintain his position till a fourth efibrt 
 was made for his relief.: 
 
 The intelligence of these hard-fought victories 
 excited the most enthusiastic trans- 
 ports throughout all France. The ^ * at pari^"^^ 
 battle of Areola especially, with its 
 desperate chances and perilous passages, was 
 the object of luiiversal admiration. The people 
 were neverweary of celebrating the genius which 
 had selected, amid the dikes of Ronco, a field of 
 battle where numbers were unavailing and cour- 
 age irresistible ; and the heroic intrepidity which 
 made the soldier forget the general, and recalled 
 the exploits of the knights of romance. Every- 
 
 * Nap., iii., 371. Th., viii., 472. + Hard., iv., 75. 
 
 t Jom., ix., 231. Nap., ill., 371, 372. Th., viii.. 472,473. 
 
418 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 where medals were exliibited of the young gen- 
 eral on the bridge of Areola, with the standard 
 in his hand, in the midst of the fire and smoke. 
 The councils decreed that the army of Italy had 
 deserved well of their country, and that the stand- 
 ards which Napoleon and Augereau had borne 
 on that memorable occasion should be given to 
 them, to be preserved as precious trophies in their 
 families.* 
 
 Nor were the Austrians less distinguished by 
 
 r patriotic feeling. While the tri- 
 
 Tast efforts of , ^ ^f ^^^ Archduke Charles on 
 
 the Austrians. , '^t^ , , , j r~. 
 
 the Danube had saved Germany, 
 and raised to the highest pitch the ardour of the 
 people, the reverses in Italy came to damp the 
 general joy, and renew, in a quarter where it 
 "was least expected, the peril of the monarchy. 
 With unconquerable resolution they prepared to 
 face the danger ; the affectionate ardour of the 
 hereditary states showed itself in the moment of 
 alarm ; the people everywhere flew to arms ; nu- 
 merous regiments of volunteers were formed to 
 repair the chasms in the regular forces ; Vienna 
 alone raised four regiments, which received 
 standards embroidered by the hand of the em- 
 press; and before the end of tlie year, a fourth 
 army was formed in the mountains of Friuli 
 and TjTol, nowise inferior either in numbers or 
 resolution to those which had wasted under the 
 sword of Napoleon. t 
 
 After the battle of Areola, the negotiation, the 
 .|^. . (. commencement of which had been 
 Clarke" to ne- attended with such fatal effects to 
 gotiate for the imperial fortunes during the ac- 
 peace, which tion, was Continued with the great- 
 Na^o7mi""'^ est activity between the headquar- 
 apo eon. ^^^^ ^j, ^^^ ^^^ armies. General 
 
 Clarke, the Republican envoy, arrived at the 
 headquarters ol Napoleon, and it was at first 
 proposed to conclude an armistice of three 
 months in order to facilitate the negotiations; 
 but this the French general, who saw the com- 
 mand of Italy on the point of slipping from his 
 grasp, and was well aware that the fate of the 
 \var depended on Mantua, resolutely opposed.j 
 Clarke, however, continued to argue in favour 
 of the armistice, and produced the instructions 
 of his government, which were precise on that 
 point ; but Napoleon, secure of the support of 
 Barras, at once let him know that he was re- 
 solved not to share his authority with any one. 
 " If you come here to obey me," said he, " I will 
 always see you with pleasure ; if not, the sooner 
 you return to those who sent you, the better."§ 
 Clarke felt he was mastered; he did not answer 
 a word ; from that moment the negotiation fell 
 entirely into the hands of Napoleon, and came 
 to nothing. So completely, indeed, did the Re- 
 publican envoy fall imder the government of the 
 young general, that he himself wrote to the Di- 
 rector}', " It is indispensable that the general-in- 
 
 * Th., viii., 473. 
 
 t Tout., Ti., 142. Jom., ix., 267. Hard., iv., 152. 
 
 t " Masters of Mantua," said he, " the enemy will be too 
 lappy to leave us the line of the Rhine. But if an armi- 
 stice is concluded, we must al)andon that fortress till May, 
 and then find it completely provisioned, so that its fall can- 
 not be reckoned on before the unhealthy months of autumn. 
 "W'e will lose the money (30.000,000) we expect from Rome, 
 which cannot be influenced hut by the fall of Mantua ; and 
 the emperor beintj nearer the scene of action, will recruit 
 his army much more effectually than we can, and in the 
 opening of the campaign we shall be inferior to the enemy. 
 Fifteen days' repose is of essential senice to the army of 
 Italy ; three months would ruin it. To conclude an armi- 
 stice just now is to cut ourselves out of ail chance of success 
 — in a word, everyt.hin? depends on the fall of Mantua." — 
 Corresp. Confid., ii., 425. <) Hard., iv., 133, 134. 
 
 chief should conduct all the diplomatic opera- 
 tions in Italy;"* and thenceforth his attention 
 was almost entirely confined to arresting the 
 scandalous depredations of the civil and military- 
 authorities, both on the Italian States and the 
 funds of the Republic: an employment which 
 soon absorbed all his time, and was attended 
 with as little success as those of Napoleon him- 
 self had been. The conferences which were 
 opened at Vicenza in December were broken 
 up on the 3d of January without having led to 
 any result, and both parties prepared to try once 
 more the fate of arms.t 
 
 For two months after the battle of Areola, and 
 during this negotiation, both parties remained ia 
 a state of inactivity, and great efforts were made 
 on either side to recruit the armies for the final 
 contest which was approaching. Napoleon re- 
 ceived great re-enforcements ; numbers of the 
 sick were discharged from the hospitals, and re- 
 joined their ranks on the approach of the cold 
 weather, and ten thousand men flocked to his 
 standards from the interior ; so that, by the be- 
 ginning of January, 1797, he had forty-six thou- 
 sand men under arms. Ten thousand blockaded 
 Mantua, and the remainder of the army was ou 
 the line of the Adige, from the edge of "the Po to 
 the rocks of Montebaldo.I 
 
 It was high time that the Imperialists should 
 advance to the relief of this fortress, which was 
 now reduced to the last extremity from want of 
 provisions. At a council of war held in the end 
 of December, it was decided that it was indis- 
 pensable that instant intelligence should be sent 
 to Alvinzi of their desperate situation. The 
 English officer attached to the garrison volun- 
 teered to peribrm in person the perilous mission, 
 which he executed with equal courage and ad- 
 dress. He set out, disguised as a peasant, from 
 Mantua, on the 29th of December, at nightfall, 
 in the midst of a deep fall of snow, eluded the 
 vigilance of the French patrols, and after sur- 
 mounting a thousand hardships and dangers, ar- 
 rived at the headquarters of Alvinzi, at Bassa- 
 no, on the 4th of January, the day after the con- 
 ferences at Vicenza were broken up. Great 
 destinies awaited this enterprising officer.§ He 
 was Colonel Graham, afterward victor at Barros- 
 sa, and the first British general who planted the 
 English standard on the soil of France. 
 
 The Austrian plan of attack on this occasion 
 was materially different from what xhey make a 
 it had formerly been. Adhering fourth effort to 
 still to their favourite system of di- relieve Mantua, 
 viding their forces, and being masters of the 
 course of the Brenta from Bassano to Roveredo, 
 they transferred the bulk of their troops to the 
 Upper Adige, where Alvinzi himself took the 
 command of thirty-five thousand men. A sub- 
 ordinate force of fifteen thousand was destined 
 to advance by the plain of Padua to Mantua, 
 with a view to raise the siege, extricate Wurm- 
 ser, and push on to the Ecclesiastical States, 
 where the pope had recently been making great 
 preparations, and from whose levies it was hoped 
 the numerous staff and dismounted dragoons of 
 the veteran marshal would form an efficient 
 force. This project had eveiy appearance of 
 success ; but, unfortunately, it became loiown to 
 the French general, from the despatches which 
 announced it to Wurmser falling into his handa 
 
 * Report, Dec, 179fi, by Clarke, Confid. Corresp. 
 
 t Hard., iv., lae, 146, 149. 
 
 } Jom., IX., 262. Th , viii., 507. 
 
 « Hard., IV.. 153, 154. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 419 
 
 as the messenger who bore them was on the 
 point of clearing the last lines of the blockade 
 of Mantua.* 
 
 On the 12th of January, 1797, the advanced 
 Jan 12 1797. guard of Alvinzi attacked the Re- 
 Theyadva'ace publican posts on the Montebaldo, 
 to Rivoii. and forced them back to the plateau 
 of Ri\'oli; while, on the same day, the troops in 
 the plain pushed forward, drove in all the French 
 videttcs towards Porto Legnago, and maintained 
 a desultory fire along the whole line of the Lower 
 Adige. For some time Napoleon was uncer- 
 tain on which side the principal attack would be 
 made ; but soon the alarming accounts of the 
 great display of force on the upper part of the 
 river, and the secret intelligence which he re- 
 ceived from treachery at the Austrian head- 
 quarters, left no doubt that the enemy's principal 
 forces were accumulated near Rivoii; and, ac- 
 cordingly, he set out with the whole centre of his 
 army to support Joubert, who was there strug- 
 J 14 179' Sliig "^vi^h immensely superior for- 
 ' ■ ces. He arrived at two in the morn- 
 ing on the plateau of Rivoli ; the weather was 
 clear and beautiful ; an unclouded moon silver- 
 ed the lir-clad precipices of the mountains ; but 
 the horizon to the northward was illuminated by 
 the fires of innumerable bivouacs, and from the 
 neighbouring heights his experienced eye could 
 discover the lights of nearly forty thousand men. 
 This great force was divided into five columns, 
 which filled the whole space between the Adige 
 and the Lake of Guarda: the principal one, 
 under Cluasdanovich, composed of all the ar- 
 tillery, cavalry, and a strong body of grena- 
 diers, followed the high road on the right, and 
 was destined to ascend the plateau by the zigzag 
 and steep ascent which led to its summit. Three 
 other corps of infantry received orders to climb 
 the amphitheatre of mountains which surround- 
 ed it in front, and, when the action was engaged 
 on the high road, descend upon the French 
 army; while a fifth, under Lusignan, was di- 
 rected to wind round the base of the plateau, 
 gain the high road in their rear, and cut oft' their 
 retreat to Verona. The plan was ably conceiv- 
 ed, and had nearly succeeded :t with a general 
 of inferior ability to Napoleon, and troops of 
 less resolution than his anny, it unquestionably 
 Avould have done so. 
 
 To oppose this great force Napoleon had only 
 thirty thousand men, but he had the advantage 
 of being in position on a plain, elevated among 
 the mountains, while his adversaries mu.st ne- 
 cessarily be fatigued in endeavouring to reach 
 it ; and he had sixty pieces of cannon, and a nu- 
 merous body of cavalry, in excellent condition. 
 He immediately perceived that it was necessary, 
 at all hazards, to keep his ground on the plateau; 
 and, by so doing, he hoped to prevent the junc- 
 tion of the enemy's masses, and overthrow them 
 separately. Before daybreak he moved forward 
 the tirailleurs of Joubert to drive back the ad- 
 vanced posts of the Imperialists, who had already 
 ascended to the plateau, and by the light of the 
 moon arranged his whole force with admirable 
 precision on its summit.; 
 
 The action began at nine o'clock, by the Aus- 
 trian columns, which descended 
 tleof r"vo1. ' ^™'^ ^'^^ semicircular heights of the 
 Montebaldo, attacking the French 
 left. After a desperate resistance, the regiments 
 
 * Nap., iii., 40S, 409. 
 
 t Th., viii., 513. Nap., iii., 414. Jom., ix., 275. 
 
 t Th., Till., 514. Nap., lii., 414. Jom., ix., 276. 
 
 Stationed there were broken, and fled in disorder; 
 upon which Napoleon galloped to the village of 
 Rivoii, where the division of Massena, which 
 had marched all night, was reposing from its fa- 
 tigues, led it to the front, and, by a vigorous 
 charge, restored the combat in that quarter. 
 This check, however, had forced Jouljert on the 
 right to give ground ; the divisions in front pressed 
 down upon the plateau, while at the same instant 
 the head of the column of the imperial grenadiers 
 appeared at the top of the zigzag windings of the 
 high road, having, by incredible efforts of valour, 
 forced that perilous ascent, and their cavalry and 
 artillery began to debouch upon the level sur- 
 face at its summit. Meanwhile, the division of 
 Lusignan, which had wound unperceived round 
 the flanks of the Republicans, appeared directly 
 in their rear, and the imperial soldiers, deeming 
 the destruction of the French army certain, gave 
 loud cheers on all sides, which re-echoed from 
 the surrounding cliffs, and clapped their hands 
 as they successively took up their ground. The 
 Republicans, attacked in front, flank, and rear at 
 the same time, saw their retreat cut off, and no 
 resource from the bayonets of the Austrians but 
 in the precipices of the Alps.* 
 ■ At this perilous moment, the presence of mind 
 of Napoleon did not forsake him. He instantly, 
 in order to gain time, sent a flag of truce to Al- 
 vinzi, proposing a suspension of arras for half an 
 hour, as he had some propositions to make iu 
 consequence of the arrival of a courier with de- 
 spatches from Paris. The Austricfn general, 
 ever impressed with the idea that military were 
 to be subordinate to diplomatic operations, fell 
 into tlie snare ; the suspension, at the critical 
 moment, was agreed to ; and the march of the 
 Austrians was suspended at the very moment 
 when the soldiers, with loud shouts, were ex- 
 claiming, "We have them! we have them!" Ju- 
 not repaired to the Austrian headquarters, from 
 whence, after a conference of an hour, he return- 
 ed, as might have been expected, without having 
 come to any accommodation; but, meanwhile, the 
 critical period had passed ; Napoleon had gained 
 time to face the danger, and made the movements 
 requisite to repel these numerous attacks. Jou- 
 bert, with the light infantry, was ordered to face 
 about on the extreme right to oppose Cluasdano- 
 vich, while Leclerc and Lasalle, with the light 
 cavalry and flying artillery, flew to the menaced 
 point ; and a regiment of infantry was directed 
 to the heights of Tiffaro, to make head against 
 the corps of Lusignan. Far from being discon- 
 certed by the appearance of the troops in his rear, 
 he exclaimed, pointing to them, " These are al- 
 ready our prisoners;" and the confident tone in 
 which he spoke soon communicated itself to the 
 soldiers, who repeated the cheering expression. 
 The head of Cluasdanovich's division, which had 
 so bravely won the ascent, received in front by a 
 terrible fire of grapeshot, charged on one flank 
 by Lasalle's horse, and exposed on the other to a 
 close discharge of musketry from Joubert, broke 
 and staggered backward down the steep. The 
 fugitives, rushing headlong through the column 
 which was toiling up, soon threw the whole into 
 inextricable confusion ; horse, foot, and cannon 
 struggled together, under a plunging fire from the 
 French batteries, which blew up some ammuni- 
 tion-wagons, and produced a scene of frightful 
 disorder. No sooner was the plateau delivered 
 from this flank attack, than Napoleon accumu- 
 
 Nap., iii., 410. Th., viii., 516. Jom., viii., 279. 
 
420 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 lated his forces on the troops which had descend- 
 ed from the semicircle of the Montebaldo, and 
 that gallant band, destitute of artiller)', and de- 
 prived now of the expected aid from the corps in 
 flank, soon gave way, and fled in confusion to 
 the mountains, where great numbers were made 
 prisoners.* 
 
 During these decisive successes, the division 
 Decisive vie- of Lusignan had gained ground on 
 tory of Na- the troops opposed to it, and came to 
 poleon. tiie heights in rear of the army in 
 
 time to witness the destruction of the three divis- 
 ions in the mountains. From that moment they 
 foresaw their own fate. The victorious troops 
 were speedily directed against this brave divis- 
 ion, now insulated from all support, and depress- 
 ed by the ruin which it had witnessed in the other 
 parts of the army. For some time they stood 
 firm ; but the fire of fifteen pieces of heavy artil- 
 lery, to which they had nothing to oppose, at 
 length compelled them to retreat; and, before 
 they had receded far, they met the division of 
 Ney, the reserve of Massena, which was ap- 
 proaching. Such was the consternation produ- 
 ced by this unexpected apparition, that the whole 
 division laid down its arms; while GLuasdano- 
 vich, now left to his own resources, retired up 
 the valley of the Adige, and the broken remains 
 of the centre divisions sought refuge behind the 
 rocky stream of the Tasso.t 
 
 Not content with these splendid triumphs, Na- 
 He hastens poleon, on the veiy night in which they 
 to the Low-* were gained, flew to the assistance of 
 cr Adige. the troops on the Lower Adige, with 
 part of the division of Massena, which had 
 marched all the preceding night, and fought on 
 the following day. It was full time that he should 
 do so, for on the very day on which the battle of 
 E.ivoli was fought, Provera had forced the pas- 
 sage of the Adige at Anghiari, and marched be- 
 tween Augereau and the blockading force by 
 Sanguenetto to the neighbourhood of Mantua, 
 of which he threatened to raise the siege on the 
 following morning. Augereau, it is true, had 
 collected his forces, attacked the rear-guard of 
 the Austrians during their march, and taken fif- 
 teen hundred prisoners and fourteen pieces of 
 caimon ; but still the danger was imminent that 
 the main body of Provera's forces would gain the 
 fort of St. George, and put the blockading force 
 between two fires. Fully aware of the danger,: 
 Napoleon marched all night and the whole of the 
 following day, and arrived in the evening in the 
 neighbourhood of Mantua. 
 
 Meanwhile the hussars of Hohenzollern pre- 
 sented themselves, at sunrise on the 15th, 
 at the gate of St. George, and being 
 dressed in white cloaks, were nearly mistaken 
 for a regiment of French, and admitted within 
 the walls. But the error having been discovered 
 by an old sergeant who was cutting wood near 
 the gate, the drawbridge was suddenly drawn up, 
 and the alarm communicated to the garrison. 
 Hohenzollern advanced at the gallop, but before 
 he could get in the gates were closed, and a dis- 
 charge of grapeshot repulsed the assailants. All 
 that day the garrison imder Miollis combated 
 on the ramparts, and gave time for the succours 
 Operations of f^om Rivoli to arrive. Provera sent 
 Provera there, a bark across the lake to warn 
 
 ■who is forced Wurmser of his approach, and con- 
 to surrender, cert a general attack, on the next 
 
 15th Jan. 
 
 day, upon the blockading force ; and in pursu- 
 ance of the summons, the brave veteran pre- 
 sented himself at the trenches on the following 
 morning with a large part of the garrison. But the 
 arrival of Napoleon not only frustrated 
 all these preparations, but proved fatal ■'^°" 
 to Provera's division. During the night he 
 pushed forward four regiments, which he had 
 brought with him, between the tort of Favourite 
 and St. George, so as to prevent Wurmser from 
 eflfecting a junction with the Austrians, who ap- 
 proached to raise the siege, and strengthened 
 Serrurier at the fonner point, in order to enable 
 him to repel any attack I'rom the garrison. At 
 daybreak the battle commenced at all points. 
 Wurmser, after an obstinate conflict, was thrown 
 back into the fortress; while Provera, surround- 
 ed by superior forces, and tracked in all his 
 doublings, like a furious stag by ruthless hunt- 
 ers,* was compelled to lay down his arms, with 
 six thousand men. In this engagement the 57th 
 regiment acquired the surname of the TciriMc, 
 from the fury with which it threw itself on the 
 Austrian line. It was commanded by Victor, 
 afterward Duke of Belluno. 
 
 Thus, in three davs, by his admirable disposi- 
 tions and the extraordinary activity 
 of his troop.s, did Napoleon not only ft^^.fbl.^L. 
 deieat two Austrian armies ol much 
 greater force, taken together, than his own, but 
 took from them eighteen thousand prisoners, 
 twenty-four standards, and sixty pieces of cannon. 
 Such was the loss of the enemy besides in killed 
 and wounded, that the Austrians were totally dis- 
 abled from keeping the field, and the French left 
 in undisputed possession of the whole peninsula. 
 History has few examples to exhibit of success- 
 es so decisive, achieved by forces so inconsider- 
 able. +j 
 
 This was the last effort of which Austria was 
 capable, and the immediate consequence of its 
 defeat the complete subjugation of the peninsula. 
 The remains of Alvinzi's corps retired in oppo- 
 site directions, one part towards Trent, and 
 another towards Bassano. Napoleon, whose 
 genius never appeared so strongly as in pursu- 
 ing the remains of a beaten army, followed them 
 up without intermission. Laudohn, who had 
 taken post at Roveredo with eight thoixsand men, 
 in order to defend as long as possible the valley 
 of the Upper Adige, was driven by Joubert suc- 
 cessively from that towm and Trent, with the loss 
 of five hundred prisoners, while Massena, by a 
 rapid march over the mountains, made himself 
 master of Primolano, descended into the gorges 
 of the Val Sugana, turned the position of Bassa- 
 no, and drove the Austrians, with the loss of a 
 
 * Jom., viii., 282, 2S3. Th., viii., 518. Nap., iii., 416. 
 
 + Th., viii., 518, 519. Jom., viii., 283, 284. Nap., lii., 
 
 417. X Jom., viii., 290. Th., viii., 520. 
 
 * Th., viii., 521. Nap., iii., 421. Jom., viii., 290, 293. 
 
 t Jom., viii., 294. Nap., iii., 422. 
 
 t In their report on these disasters, the Aulic Council 
 generously threw no blame on Alvinzi, but openly avowed 
 the treachery at their headquarters, which made all their 
 designs known before they were carried into execution. 
 " The chief fatality," said they, " consisted in this, that our 
 designs were constantly made known to the enemy before 
 tliey were acted upon. Treachery rendered abortive the 
 combinations of Marshal Wurmser for the relief of Mantua : 
 treachery plunged Alvinzi into all his misfortunes. Gen- 
 eral Bonaparte himself says in his report, that from different 
 sources he had become acquainted with the designs of tho 
 enemy before their execution ; and on the last occasion, it 
 was only on the 4thof January that Alvinzi received his in- 
 structions for the attack, and on the 2d of January it was 
 published by Bonaparte in the Gazette of Milan." Alvinzi, 
 notwithstanding his disasters, was continued in favour; but 
 Provera was exiled to his estates in Carinthia, upon tho 
 ground that he had transgressed his orders in advancing 
 against Mantua before he had received intelligence of the 
 progress of Alvinzi. — Hardekbebg, iv., 164, 167. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 421 
 
 thousand prisoners, through Treviso to the oppo- 
 site bank ul' the Tagliainento, where Alvinzi at 
 length, by the valley of the Drave, reunited the 
 remnant of his scattered lorces.* 
 
 Notwithstanding these disasters, the public 
 spirit of the Austrian monarchy remained un- 
 subdued, and the cabinet of Vienna continued 
 nnshaken in its resolution to prosecute the war 
 Avith vigour. On the other hand, the Directory 
 were so much impressed with the imuiinent risk 
 which the Italian array had run botii at Areola 
 and Rivoli, and the evident peril to the Republic 
 from the rising fame and domineering character 
 of Napoleon, that they were very desirous of 
 peace, and aulliorized Clarke to sign it, on con- 
 dition that Belgium and the frontier of the Rhine 
 were given to France, an indemnity secured to 
 the stadtholder in Germany, and all its posses- 
 sions restored to Austria in Italy. But Napoleon 
 again resolutely opposed these instructions, and 
 would not permit Clarke to open the proposed 
 negotiations. " Before Mantua falls," said lie, 
 '• every negotiation is premature, and Mantua 
 will be in our hands in tifteendays. These con- 
 ditions will never meet with my approbation. 
 The Republic is entitled, besides the frontier of 
 the Rhine, to insist for the establishment of a 
 state in Italy which may secure the French in- 
 lluence there, and retain in its subjection Genoa, 
 Sardinia, and the pope. Without that, Venice, 
 enlightened at last as to its real dangers, will 
 unite with the emperor, and restrain the growth 
 of Democratic principles in its Italian posses- 
 sions." The inlluence of Napoleon again pre- 
 vailed ; the proposed negotiation never was 
 opened, and Clarke remained at Milan, occupied 
 with his subordinate duty of investigating the 
 rapacity of the commissaries of the army.t 
 
 Mantua did not long hold out after the de- 
 struction of the last armv destined 
 Surrender of ^-yj, j^^ ^.^^^^f- rj,^^ j^^j^^ ^f jj^ 
 Mantua. . . i , . 
 
 numerous garrison was in the hospi- 
 tal; they had consumed all their horses, and the 
 troops, placed for months on half rations, had 
 nearly exhausted all their provisions. In this 
 extremity, Wunnser proposed to Serrurier to 
 capitulate : the French commander stated that 
 he could give no definitive answer till the arrival 
 of the general-in-chief. Napoleon, in conse- 
 quence, hastened to Roverbella, where he found 
 Klenau, the Austrian aid-de-camp, expatiating 
 on the powerful means of resistance which 
 Wurmser enjoyed, and the great stores of pro- 
 visions which still remained in the magazines. 
 Wrapped in his cloak near the fire, he overheard 
 the conversation without taking any part in it, 
 or making himself known ; when it was conclu- 
 ded, he approached the table, took up the pen, 
 and wrote on the mai"gin his answer to all the 
 propositions of Wurmser. and, when it was fin- 
 ished, said to Klenau, " If Wurmser had only 
 provisions for eighteen or twenty days, and he 
 spoke of surrendering, he would have merited no 
 favourable terms ; but I respect the age, the val- 
 our, and the misfortunes of the marshal ; here 
 are the conditions which I offer him, if he sur- 
 render to-morrow ; should he delay a fortnight, a 
 month, or two months, he shall have the same 
 conditions ; he may wait till he has consumed 
 his last morsel of bread. I am now about to 
 cross the Po to march upon Rome : return and 
 communicate my intentions to your general." 
 
 * Jom., viii., 302, 30i. Nap., iii., 421, 422. 
 + Hard., iv., 170, 174. 
 
 The aid-de-camp, who now perceived that he was 
 in presence of Napoleon, was penetrated with 
 gratitude for the generosity of the conqueror; 
 and, finding that it was useless longer to dissem- 
 ble, confessed that they had only provisions left 
 for three days. The terms of capitulation were 
 immediately agreed on; Napoleon set out him- 
 self to Florence to conduct the expedition against 
 Rome, and Serrurier had the honour of seeing 
 the marshal, with all his staff, defile before liim. 
 Napoleon had too much grandeur of mind to in- 
 sult the vanquished veteran by his own presence 
 on the occasion; his delicacy was observed by 
 all Europe; and, like the statues of Brutus and 
 Cassius at the funeral of Junia, was the more 
 present to the mind because he was withdrawn 
 from the sight.* 
 
 By this capitulation, Wurm.ser was allowed 
 to retire to Austria with all his staff and five 
 hundred men; the remainder of the garrison, 
 which, including the sick, was still eighteen 
 thousand strong, surrendered their arms, and., 
 were conveyed to Trieste to be exchanged. Fif- 
 ty standards, a bridge equipage, and above five 
 hundred pieces of artillery, comprising all those 
 captured at the raising of the fu'st siege, fell into 
 the hands of the conqueror.t 
 
 Having achieved this great conquest, Napole- 
 on directed his arms against Rome. Napoleon 
 The power which had vanquished, after marches 
 so desperate a .struggle, the strength of towards 
 Austria, was not long of crushing the R"""*^- 
 feeble forces of the Church. During the strife 
 on the Adige, the pope had refused to ratify the 
 treaty of Bologna, and had openly engaged iu 
 hostile measures at the conclusion of the cam- 
 paign, in conjunction with the forces of Austria. 
 The French troops, in consequence, crossed the 
 Apennines; and, during the march, Wurmser 
 had an opportunity of returning the generous 
 conduct of his adversary, by putting him on his 
 guard against a conspiracy which had beea 
 formed against his life, and which was the 
 means of causing it to be frustrated. The papal 
 troops were routed on the banks of the Senio : 
 like the other Italian armies, they fled on the 
 first onset, and Junot, after two hours' hard ri- 
 ding, found it impossible to make up with their 
 cavalry. Ancona was speedily taken, with twelve 
 hundred men and one hundred and twenty pieces 
 of carmon, while a small column on the other 
 side of the Apennines pushed as far as Foligno, 
 and threatened Rome itself. Nothing remained 
 to the Vatican but submission ; and peace was 
 concluded at Tolentino on the 19th of February, 
 on terms the most humiliating to ^eh 19 Trea- 
 the Holy See. The pope engaged ty of Tolentin9 
 
 to close his ports against the allies, between France 
 
 to cede Avignon and the Venaisin =»"'^ '■^^ ?"?■=• 
 to France ; to abandon Bologna, Ferrara, and 
 the whole of Romagna to its allies in the Milan- 
 ese ; to admit a garrison of French troops into 
 Ancona till the conclusion of a general peace; 
 and to pay a contribution of thirty millions of 
 francs to the victorious Republic. Besides this, 
 he was obliged to surrender a hundred of his 
 principal works of art to the French commis- 
 sioners: the trophies of ancient and modem ge- 
 nius were seized on with merciless rapacity; 
 and, in a short time, the noblest specimens of 
 the fine arts which existed in the world, the 
 ApoUo Belvidere, the Laocoon, the Transfigura- 
 
 * Nap., iii., 423, 425. Th., viii., 523, 524. O'Meara, i., 
 126. t Nap., iii., 425. Jom., viii., 305. 
 
422 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XX. 
 
 lion of Raphael, the Madonna del Foligno, and 
 the St. Jerome of Domenichino, were placed on 
 the banks of the Seine. *t 
 
 Such was the campaign of 1796: glorious to 
 
 the French arms, memorable in the 
 
 Retrospect of j^jstoj-y of the world. Certainly on 
 
 the campaign. ,. -' • i_ j „„„ „ 
 
 no former occasion had successes so 
 
 great been achieved in so short a time, or powers 
 so vast been vanquished by forces so inconsid- 
 erable. From maintaining a painful contest on 
 the mountain ridges of their own frontier, from 
 defending the Var and the Maritime Alps, the 
 Republicans found themselves transported to the 
 Tyrol and the Tagliamento, threatening the he- 
 reditary states of Austria, and subduing the whole 
 southern powers of Italy. An army which never 
 mustered fifty thousand men in the field, though 
 maintained by successive re-enforcements nearly 
 at that amount, had not only broken through the 
 barrier of the Alps, subdued Piedmont, conquer- 
 ed Lombardy, humbled the whole Italian states, 
 but defeated, and almost destroyed, four powerful 
 armies which Austria raised to defend her pos- 
 sessions, and wrenched the keys of Mantua from 
 her grasp, under the eyes of the greatest array of 
 armed men she had ever sent into the field. Suc- 
 cesses so immense, gained against forces so vast 
 and efforts so indefatigable, may almost be pro- 
 nounced unparalleled in the annals of war.: 
 
 But, although its victories in the field had been 
 so brilliant, the internal situation of the Repub- 
 lic was in the highest degree discouraging ; and 
 it was more than doubtful whether it could con- 
 tinue for any length of time even so glorious a 
 contest. Its condition is clearly depicted in a se- 
 cret report, presented, by order of the Directory, 
 on the 20th of December, 1796, by General 
 Clarke to Napoleon : " The lassitude of war is 
 experienced in all parts of the Republic. The 
 people ardently desire peace ; their murmurs 
 are loud that it is not already concluded. The 
 legislature desires it, commands it, no matter at 
 what price ; and its continued refusal to furnish 
 the Directory the necessary funds to carry on the 
 
 * Jom., Tiii., 312, 313. Nap., iii., 425. O'Mca., ii., 127. 
 
 t This treaty was concluded by the French under the 
 idea that it would eventually prove fatal to the Holy See. 
 Napoleon proposed to overturn at once the papal govern- 
 ment: "Can we not," said he, "unite Modena, Ferrara, 
 and Romagna, and so form a powerful republic ? May we 
 not give Rome to the King of Spain on condition that he 
 recognises the new Republic ? I will give peace to the 
 pope on condition that he gives us 3,000,000 of the treasure 
 at Loretto, and pays the 15,000,000 which remain for the 
 armistice. Rome cannot long exist, deprived of its richest 
 possessions; a revolution will speedily break out there."* 
 On their side, the Directory wrote as follows to Napoleon : 
 " Your habits of reflection, general, must have taught you 
 that the Roman Catholic religion is the irreconcilable ene- 
 my of the Republic. The Directory, therefore, invite you 
 to do everything in your power to destroy the papal govern- 
 ment, without in any degree compromising the fate of your 
 army, either by subjecting Rome to another power, or, what 
 would be better still, by establishing in its interior such a 
 government as may render the rule of the priests odious and 
 contemptible : secure the grand object, that the pope and the 
 cardinals shall lose all hope of remaining at Rome, and may 
 be compelled to seek an asylum in some foreign state, where 
 they may be entirely stripped of temporal power." — Corres. 
 Conf. de Napoleon, ii., 349. Hard., iv., 181, 182. 
 
 t In his confidential despatch to the Directory of the 28th 
 of December, 1796, Napoleon states the force with which he 
 commenced the campaign at thirty-eight thousand five hun- 
 dred men, the subsequent re-enforcements at twelve thou- 
 sand six hundred, and the losses by death and incurable 
 wounds at seven thousand. There can be no doubt that he 
 enormously diminished his losses and re-enforcements ; for 
 the Directory maintained that he had received re-enforce- 
 ments to the amount of fifty-seven thousand men, — Corres. 
 Conf.,n., 312. 
 
 : Corres. Secrete de Nap., ii.,, 543. Hard,, ir,, 131. 
 
 contest is the best proof of that fact. The finances 
 are ruined ; agriculture in vain demands the arms 
 which are required for cultivation. The war is be- 
 come so imiversal as to threaten to overturn the 
 Republic ; all parties, worn out with anxiety, de- 
 sire the termination of the Revolution. Should 
 our internal misery continue, the people, exhaust- 
 ed by suffering, having found none of the benefits 
 which they expected, will establish a new order 
 of things, which will, in its turn, generate fresh 
 revolutions, and we shall imdergo, for twenty or 
 thirty years, all the agonies consequent on such 
 convulsions."* 
 
 Much of Napoleon's success was no doubt 
 owing to the admirable character. Extraordinary 
 unwearied energy, and indomitable composition of 
 courage of the troops which compo- the French 
 sed the French army. The world ^^'^^y- 
 had never seen an array framed of such materi- 
 als. The terrible whirlwind which had over- 
 thro\vn the fabric of society in France, the patri- 
 otic spirit which had brought its whole popula- 
 tion into the field, the grinding misery which had 
 forced all its activity into war, had formed a 
 union of intelligence, skill, and ability among 
 the private soldiers such as had never before 
 been wimessed in modem warfare. The mid- 
 dling — even the higher ranks, were to be seen 
 with a musket on their shoulders ; the great lev- 
 ies of 1793 had spared neither high nor low; 
 tlie career of glor}' and ambition could be enter- 
 ed only through the humble portals of the bivou- 
 ack. Hence it was that the spirit which anima- 
 ted them was so fervent, and their intelligence 
 so remarkable, that the humblest grenadiers an- 
 ticipated all the designs of their commanders, 
 and knew of themselves, in every situation of 
 danger and difficulty, Avhat should be done. 
 When Napoleon spoke to them, in his procla- 
 mations, of Brutus, Scipio, and Tarquin, he was 
 addressing men whose hearts thrilled at the rec- 
 ollections which these names awaken ; and when 
 he led them into action, after a night-march often 
 leagues, he commanded those who felt as thor- 
 oughly as himself the inestimable importance 
 of time in war. With truth might Napoleon 
 say that his soldiers had surpassed the far-famed. 
 celerity of Caesar's legions.t 
 
 But much as was owing to the troops who 
 obeyed, still more was to be ascribed q^^^j »enius 
 to the general who commanded in of Napoleon, 
 this memorable campaign. In this His system of 
 struggle is to be seen the commence- ''^■"■ 
 ment of the new system of tactics which Napo- 
 leon brought to such perfection ; that of accu- 
 mulating forces in a central situation ; striking 
 with the whole mass the detached wings of the 
 enemy, separating them from each other, and 
 compensating by rapidity of movement for in- 
 feriority of numbers. All his triumphs were 
 achieved by the steady and skilful application of 
 this principle. At Montenotte he broke into the 
 centre of the Austro-Sardinian anny when it 
 was executing a difficult movement through the 
 mountains, separated the Piedmontese from the 
 Imperialists, accumulated an overwhelming force 
 against the latter at Dego, and routed the former 
 when detached from their allies at Mondovi. 
 When Wurmser approached Verona, with his 
 army divided into parts, separated from each 
 other by a lake. Napoleon was on the brink of 
 ruin ; but he retrieved his affairs by sacrificing 
 
 * Report by Clarke. Corresp. Conf. de Nap., ii,, 426, 
 t Th., viii., 522. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 423 
 
 the siege of Mantua, and falling, with superior 
 numbers, first on Ciuasdanovicli at Lonato, and 
 then on Wurmser at Castiglione. When the 
 second irruption of the Germans took place, and 
 Wurmser still continued the system of dividing 
 his troops, it was by a skilful use of his central 
 position that Napoleon defeated these efforts ; 
 lirst assailing with a superior force the subsidia- 
 ry body at liovoredo, and then pursuing, with 
 the rapidity of lightning, the main body of the 
 invaders through the gorges of the Brenta. 
 When Alvinzi assumed the command, and Vau- 
 bois was routed in the Tyrol, the afl'airs of the 
 French were all but desperate ; but the central 
 positions and rapid movements of Napoleon 
 again restored the balance ; checking, in the first 
 instance, the advance of Davidowich on the 
 plateau of Rivoli, and next engaging in a mor- 
 tal strife with Alvinzi in the marshes of Areola. 
 When Austria made her final eflbrt, and Alvin- 
 zi surrounded Joubert at Rivoli, it was only by 
 the most rapid movements and almost incredible 
 activity that the double attack was defeated, the 
 same troops crushing the main body of the Aus- 
 trians on the steeps of the Montebaldo, who af- 
 terward surrounded Provera on the Lake of Man- 
 tua. The same system was afterward pursued 
 with the greatest success by Wellington in Por- 
 tugal, and Napoleon himself at Dresden, and in 
 the plains of Champagne. 
 
 But towards the success of such a system of 
 But it will operations it is indispensable that 
 not succeed the troops who undertake it should 
 against tru.ips be superior in bodily activity and 
 *^i"^''y^''^^^ moral courage to their adversaries, 
 *^ ^ ' " ■ and that the general-in-chief can se- 
 curely leave a slender force to cope with the enemy 
 in one quarter, while he is accumulating his mass- 
 es to overwhelm them in another. Unless this 
 is the case, the commander who throws himself, 
 at the head of an inconsiderable bod}^, into the 
 midst of the enemy, will be certain of meeting 
 instead of inflicting disaster. Without such a 
 degree of courage and activity as enables him to 
 calculate with certainty upon hours, and some- 
 times minutes, it is impossible to expect success 
 from such a hazardous system. Of this a signal 
 proof occurred iu Bohemia in 1813, when the 
 French, encouraged by their great triumph be- 
 fore Dresden, threw themselves inconsiderately 
 into the midst of the allies in the mountains of 
 Toplitz ; but, meeting there with the undaunted 
 Russian and Prussian forces, they experienced 
 the most dreadful reverses, and in a few days 
 lost the whole fruit of a mighty victory. 
 
 The disasters of the Austrians were mainly 
 Causes of the Owing to the injudicious system 
 disasters of which they so perseveringly adopt- 
 the Austrians. ed, of dividing their force into sep- 
 arate bodies, and commencing an attack, at the 
 same time, at stations so far distant that the at- 
 tacking columns could render little assistance to 
 ieach other. This system may succeed very 
 well against ordinary troops or timorous gener- 
 als, who, the moment they hear of their flank be- 
 ing turned or their communications menaced, 
 lay down their arms or fall back ; but against 
 intrepid soldiers and a resolute commander, who 
 turn fiercely on every side, and bring a prepon- 
 derating mass first against one as'sailant and 
 then another, it is almost sure of leading to dis- 
 asiers. The Aulic Council were not to blame 
 for adopting this system, in the first instance, 
 against the French armies, because it might 
 have been expected to succeed against ordinar}- 
 
 troops, and had done so in many previous in- 
 stances, but they were inexcusable for continu- 
 ing it so long after the character of the.opponents 
 with whom they had to deal had so fully dis- 
 played itself. The system of concentric attacks 
 rarely succeeds against an able and determined 
 enemy, because the chances which the force ia 
 the centre has of beating first one column and 
 then another are so considerable. When it does, 
 it is only when the different masses of the at- 
 tacking party, as at Leipsic and Dresden, are so 
 immense, that each can stand a separate encoun- 
 ter lor itself, or can fall back in the event of be- 
 ing outnumbered, without seriously endangering, 
 by such a retreat, the safety of the other assailing 
 columns. 
 
 The Italian campaign demonstrates, in the 
 most signal manner, the vast impor- General re- 
 tance of fortresses in war, and the flections on 
 vital consequence of such a barrier "'<^ campaign, 
 to arrest the course of military conquest. The 
 surrender of the fortresses ofConi, Alexandria, 
 and Tortona, by giving the French a secure base 
 for their operations, speedily made them masters 
 of the whole of Lombardy, while the single for- 
 tress of Mantua arrested their victorious arms 
 for six months, and gave time to Austria to col- 
 lect no less than four powerful armies for its de- 
 liverance. No man understood this better than 
 Napoleon; and, accordingly, without troublirig 
 himself with the projects so earnestly pressed 
 upon him of revolutionizing Piedmont, he grasp- 
 ed the fortresses, and thereby laid the foundation 
 for all his subsequent conquests. Without the 
 surrender of the Piedmontese citadels, he would 
 not have been able to push his advantages in It- 
 aly beyond the Po ; but for the bastions of Man- 
 tua, he might have carried them, as in the suc- 
 ceeding campaign, to the Danube. 
 
 It is melancholy to reflect on the degraded 
 state of the Italian powers during this terrible 
 struggle. An invasion which brought on all her 
 people unheard-of calamities, which overspread 
 her plains with bloodshed, and exposed her cit- 
 ies to rapine, was unable to excite the spirit of 
 her pacific inhabitants ; and neither of the con- 
 tending powers deemed it worth their while to 
 bestow a serious thought on the dispositions or 
 assistance of the twenty millions of men who 
 were to be the reward of the strife. The coun- 
 try of Ctesar and Scipio, of Cato and Brutus, 
 beheld in silent dismay the protracted contest of 
 two provinces of its ancient empire, and prepa- 
 red to bow the neck in abject submission to 
 either of its former vassals which might prove 
 victorious in the strife. A division of the French 
 army was sufficient to disperse the levies of the 
 Roman people. Such is the consequence of po- 
 litical divisions and long-continued prosperity, 
 even in the richest and most favoured countries, 
 and of that fatal policy which withers the spii'its 
 of men, by habituating them to degrading occu- 
 pations, and renders them incapable of asserting 
 their national independence, by destroying the 
 warlike spirit by which alone it can be perma- 
 nently secured. 
 
 Finally, this campaign evinced, in the most 
 signal manner, the persevering char- Unconquera- 
 acter and patriotic spirit of the Aus- ble tenacity of 
 trian people, and the prodigious ef- '»"= Austrians. 
 forts of which its monarchy is capable when 
 roused by real danger to vigorous exertion. It 
 is impossible to contemplate, without admira- 
 tion, the vast armies which they successively 
 sent into the field, and the unconquerable cour- 
 
424 
 
 age with which they returned to a contest where 
 so many thousands of their countrymen had per- 
 ished befpre them. Had they been guided by 
 greater or opposed by less ability, they unques- 
 tionably would have been successl'ul ; and even 
 against soldiers of the Italian army and the genius 
 of Napoleon, the scales of fortune repeatedl)' hung 
 equal. A nation, capable of such sacrifices, 
 can hardly ever be permanently subdued ; a gov- 
 ernment, actuated by such steady principles, 
 
 HIvSTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXL 
 
 must ultimately be triumphant. Such, accord- 
 ingly, has been the case in the present instance : 
 aristoci'atic firmness in the end asserted its wont- 
 ed superiority over Democratic vigour; the 
 dreams of Republican equality have been forgot- 
 ten, but the Austrian government remains un- 
 changed; the French eagles have retired over 
 the Alps, and Italy, the theatre of so much 
 bloodshed, has finally remained to the success- 
 ors of the Csesars. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF 1796 IN GERMANY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Great Difficulties of the French Government at the Com- 
 mencement of this Year. — But her Foreign Relations had 
 signally improved. — Triple Alliance of Austria, Russia, 
 and England. — Painful Division of Opinion in England 
 on the War. — Violence of the Parties m the close of 1795. 
 — Attack on the King when going to Parliament. — Argu- 
 ments of the Opposition on the War. — Answer of the Gov- 
 ernment. — Real Objects in view by the different Parties. 
 — Supplies voted by Parliament. — Bills against Public 
 Meetings. — Arguments against and for them.— They pass 
 into Laws. — Reflections on these Statutes.— Proposals for 
 Peace by the British Government, which are rejected by 
 the Directory. — Operations of Hoche in La Vendee. — Pre- 
 vious Successes of Charette and StofHet during the Win- 
 ter. — Death of Stofflet. — Heroic Conduct of Charette. — 
 But he is at length taken and shot. — His Death and Char- 
 acter. — Fine Observations of Napoleon upon him. — Ter- 
 mination of the War in La Vendie. — Preparations of the 
 Austrians. — Archduke Charles put at the Head ofthe Aj-- 
 my in Germany. — Forces ofthe contending Parties on the 
 Rhine. — Designs of the Aulic Council. — Plan ofthe Re- 
 publicans. — They cross the Lower Rhine, and gain some 
 Success, but are driven back across that River by the 
 Archduke. — Operations of Moreau on the Upper Rhine. — 
 His Origin and Character. — Organization of his Aniiy. — 
 Passage of the Rhine liy Moreau. — Admirable Skill shown 
 in that Operation. — Cautious Movements of Moreau. — He 
 advances towards the Black Forest. — The Archduke hast- 
 ens to the Scene of Danger. — Indecisive Action on the 
 Rhine. — The French gain Success on the Impenal Right. 
 — The Archduke resolves to retreat into Bavaria. — Opera- 
 tions on the Lower Rhine. — Erroneous Plan of the Cam- 
 paign by the Directory. — Admirable Plan of the Archduke 
 to counteract it. — He retires through the Black Forest. — 
 Indecisive Action at Neresheini. — Operations of Jourdan. 
 — He advances into Franconia. — The Archduke joins 
 Wartensleben, and falls with their united Force on jour- 
 dan, who is defeated at Amberg. — He is again routed 
 near Wurtzburg. — Great Effects of this Victory. — Contin- 
 ued and Disastrous Retreat of Jourdan. — Archduke again 
 defeats him, and drives him across the Rhine. — Severe 
 Struggle of Latour with Moreau on the Danulie. — Arch- 
 duke threatens Moreau's Retreat at Kehl. — Moreau re- 
 solves to retreat, which he does in the most firm and 
 methodical Manner. — Defeats Latour at Biberach, and 
 retires leisurely tlirough the Black Forest. — Battle of 
 Emmindiugen, between Moreau and the Archduke. — Re- 
 treat of Moreau. — Austrians refuse an Armistice on the 
 Rhine. — Long and bloody Siege of Kehl. — Fall of the 
 Tfite-du-pont at Huningen. — Reflections on this Cam- 
 paign. — Prodigious Contributions levied by the Republi- 
 cans in Germany. — Disgust consequently excited there. — 
 Noble and patriotic Spirit of the Austrian People. — New 
 Convention between France and Prussia. — Deplorable 
 State ofthe French Marine. — Successes of the Enghsh in 
 the East and West Indies. — Capture of Ceylon. — General 
 Joy which these Conquests diffuse in England. — Contin- 
 ued deplorable State of St. Domingo. — Treaty of Alliance 
 between France and Spain. — Overtures for a General 
 Peace made by Great Britain, which proves unsuccessful. 
 — Alarniiug State of Ireland. — Designs of the Directory 
 and Hoche against that Country. — The Expedition sets 
 sail. — It is dispersed by Tempests, and regains Brest. — 
 Reflections on the failure of this Expedition.— Death of 
 the Empress Catharine. — Her Character.— Retirement of 
 Washington from Public Life. — His perfect Character, 
 and admirable Valedictory Address to his Countrymen. 
 
 When the Directory were called, by the sup- 
 pression of the insurrection of the sections, and 
 
 the establishment of the new Con- 
 stitution, to the helm of the state, [[pg''^/}^e'^"^* 
 they found the Republic in a very piench gov- 
 critical situation, and its affairs ex- eminent at th» 
 temally and internally involved in commence- 
 almost insurmountable dithculties. ™^^^°' "^ '^'* 
 The finances were in a state of in- ^^ 
 creasing and inextricable confusion; the assig- 
 nats, which had for long constituted the sole re- 
 source of government, had fallen almost to noth- 
 ing; ten thousand francs in paper were hardly 
 worth twenty francs in specie, and the unbound- 
 ed fall of that paper seemed to render the estab- 
 lishment of any other circulating medium of the 
 same description impossible. The taxes for 
 many years back had been so ill paid, that Ra- 
 mel, the minister of finance, estitnated the ar- 
 rears in his department at fifteen hundred millions 
 in specie, or above i;GO,000,000 sterling. The ar- 
 mies, destitute of pay, ill equipped, worse clothed, 
 were discontented, and the recent disasters on 
 the Rhine had completely broken the susceptible 
 spirit of the French soldiers. The artillery and 
 cavalry were without horses; the infantry, de- 
 pressed by suffering and dejected by defeat, were 
 deserting in great numbers, and seeking a refuge 
 in their homes from the toils and the miseries of 
 war. The contest in La Vendee was still un- 
 extinguished; the Republican armies had been 
 driven with disgrace behind the Rhine, and the 
 troops in the Maritime Alps, worn out with pri- 
 vations, could not be relied on with certainty 
 for offensive operations.* 
 
 But, on the other hand, the external relations 
 of the Republic had eminently im- ^^ ^^^^ ^^j.. 
 proi'ed, and the vast exertions of cign relations 
 1794, even though succeeded by the had greatly 
 lassitude and weakness of 1795, had improved, 
 produced a most important effect on the relative 
 situation of the belligerent powers. Spain, de- 
 feated and humiliated, had sued for peace ; and 
 the treaty of Bale, by liberating the armies of the 
 eastern and western Pyrenees, had both enabled 
 the French government to re-enforce the armies 
 of La Vendue, and to afford means to the young 
 conqueror of the sections of carrying the Re- 
 publican standards into the plains of Lombardy. 
 Prussia had retired without either honour or ad- 
 vantage from the struggle; the Low Countries 
 were not only subdued, but their resources turn- 
 ed against the allied powers ; and the whole 
 weight of the contest on the Rhine, it was plain, 
 must now fall on the Austrian monarchy. Eng- 
 land, baffled and disgraced on the Continent, was 
 not likely to take any effective part in military 
 
 * Jom., viii., 22. Toul., vi., 9. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 425 
 
 warfare, and there seemed little doubt that the 
 power which had recently defeated all the coa- 
 lesced armies of Europe would be able to sub- 
 due the brave but now unaided forces of the Im- 
 perialists. 
 
 Aware of the coming danger, Mr. Pitt had, in 
 <; 2' r95 ^^^^ September preceding, concluded 
 Trmif aJli- ^ triple alliance between Great Brit- 
 ance of Eng- ian, Austria, and Russia: but the 
 land, Russia, forces of Russia were too far distant, 
 ;md Austria. ^^^ ^^le danger to its possessions too 
 remote, to permit any material aid to be early 
 acquired from its immense resources. It was 
 not till a later period, and till the fire had con- 
 sumed its own vitals, that the might of this gi- 
 gantic power was eflectually roused, and the le- 
 gions of the North brought to reassert their 
 wonted superiority over the forces of Southern 
 Europe.* 
 
 The condition of England, in the close of 1795 
 Painful divis- and the beginning of 1796, was near- 
 ioii of opinion ly as distracted, so far as opinion 
 in England on went, as that of France. The con- 
 the war. tinued disasters of the war, the pres.s- 
 
 ureof newand increasing taxation, the apparent 
 hopelessness of continuing the struggle with a 
 military power whom all the armies of Europe 
 had proved unable to subdue, not only gave 
 new strength and vigour to the Whig party, who 
 had all along opposed hostilities, but induced 
 many thoughtful men, who had concurred at first 
 in the necessity of combating the Revolutionary 
 mania, to hesitate as to any farther continuance 
 of the contest. So violent had party spirit be- 
 come, and so completely had it usurped the place 
 of patriotism or reason, that many of the popular 
 leaders had come to wish anxiously for the tri- 
 umph of their enemies. It was no longer a sim- 
 ple disapprobation of the war which they felt, 
 taut a fervent desire that it might terminate to 
 the disadvantage of their country, and that the 
 Republican might triumph over the British 
 arms. They thought that there was no chance 
 of Parliamentary refonn being carried, or any 
 considerable addition to Democratic poAver ac- 
 quired, unless the ministrj' was dispossessed ; and 
 to accomplish this object, they hesitated not to 
 betray their wish for the success of this inveterate 
 enemy of their country'. These animosities pro- 
 duced their usual effect of rendering the mod- 
 erate or rational equally odious to both parties : 
 whoever deplored the war was reputed a foe to 
 his countiy;t whoever pronounced it necessary 
 was deemed a conspirator against its liberty, and 
 an abettor of arbitrary power. 
 
 These ill-humours, which were afloat during 
 Violence of ^^e whole of the summer of 1795, broke 
 the parties out into acts of Open violence in the 
 in the close autumn of that year. The as.sociat ions 
 of 1795. fQj. jjjg purpose of obtaining Parlia- 
 mentary reform increased in boldness and activ- 
 ity : among them were many emissaries of the 
 French government, and numbers of natives of 
 this country, who had thrown off all connexion 
 with it in their hearts, and were become its most 
 violent and rancorous enemies. They deluded 
 immen.se bodies of men by the seducing language 
 of freedom which they used, and the alluring 
 prospect of peace which they held forth ; and, un- 
 der the banner of reform, succeeded in assem- 
 bling, in every quarter, all that ambition had 
 which was reckless, with all that indigence could 
 
 * Jom., viii., 4. Ann. Reg., 1796, 1798. 
 t Ann. Reg., 1795-6-7. 
 
 Vol. I.— H h h 
 
 collect which was desperate. These causes of 
 discontent were increased by the high price of 
 provisions, the natural consequence of the in- 
 crea.sed consumption and enlarged circulating 
 medium required in the war, but which the low- 
 er orders, under the instigation of their dema- 
 gogues, ascribed entirely to the ministry, and the 
 crusade which they had undertaken against the 
 liberties of mankind.* 
 
 On occasion of the king's going to Parliament^ 
 at its opening, on the 29th of Octo- ^^^3^1. 1^ 
 ber, 1795, these discontents broke out king when go- 
 into open outrages of the most dis- ing to Parlia- 
 graceful kind. The royal carriage ™'*"'- 
 was surrounded by an immense crowd of turbu- 
 lent persons, loudly demanding peace and the 
 dismissal of Mr. Pitt. One of the windows was 
 broken by a Stone, or bullet from an air-gun- 
 showers of stones were thrown at the state coach, 
 both going and returning from Parliament ; and 
 the monarch naiTowly escaped the furj' of the 
 populace in his way from St. James's Palace to 
 Buckingham House. These outrages, however, 
 tended only to strengthen the hands of govern- 
 ment, by demonstrating to all reasonable men to 
 what excesses the populace would speedily be 
 driven, if not restrained by a firm hand, and how 
 thin was the partition which separated this coun- 
 try from the horrors of the French Revolution. 
 
 In debating on the address, Mr. Fox main- 
 tained that the representations of Arguments of 
 ministers were flattering and delu- the opposition 
 sive; that £100,000,000 had already on the war. 
 been added to the national debt, and £4,000,000 
 a year to the permanent taxes ; that the coalition, 
 had been everywhere defeated, and the French 
 were preparing to invade Italy with a powerful 
 army ; that the example of America proved how 
 fallacious was the hope, that a nation resolved 
 to be free could be reduced to extremity by the 
 mere failure of pecuniaiy resources ; that the al- 
 leged danger of concluding peace with a revolu- 
 tionary power had been surmounted by the des- 
 potic governments of Spain and Prussia, and if 
 so, what peril could arise from it to the constitu- 
 tional monarchy of England 1 that we had, in 
 truth, no allies, but a mere set of mercenary as- 
 sociates, who would leave our interests the mo- 
 ment that it suited their own convenience; and 
 that the severe scarcity, which now desolated all 
 Europe seemed to be the consequence of the ob- 
 stacles to cultivation which the ravages of war 
 occasioned, and could not be expected to termi- 
 nate while they continued.t 
 
 On the other hand, it was urged by Mr. Pitt, 
 that every consideration, both of jus- 
 tice and policy, called upon us for a go"ve7nment. 
 vigorous prosecution of the contest ; 
 that notwithstanding his successes in the field, 
 the enemy now began to feel his debility, and 
 had, in consequence, evinced a disposition to ac- 
 commodate, which he had never before done; 
 that the French paper was now at little more 
 than a hundredth part of its nominal value ; and 
 though the enormous sum of X750,000,000 worth 
 of assignats had been created, this quantity was 
 hourly on the increase. That it was incredible 
 that a nation reduced to such straits could long- 
 support a contest with the formidable enemies 
 who were preparing to assail it by land and sea ; 
 and that the system of maintaining war by the 
 heinous method of confiscations and a forced pa- 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1796, 1797. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1796, 12. Pari. Hist., izxii., 1012, 1016. 
 
426 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXI. 
 
 per currency, however successful for the time, 
 must lead in the end to ruin. That the num- 
 bers of the French armies, and the desperate 
 spirit by which they were animated, arose from 
 the misery of the country, the stagnation of in- 
 dustry, and the impossibility of finding subsist- 
 ence in pacific employments ; but that this sys- 
 tem, however successful when a war of inva- 
 sion and plunder was carried on, could not be 
 maintained for any length of time when the 
 French armies were repelled to their own fron- 
 tiers, and compelled to subsist on their own re- 
 sources. That now, therefore, was the time, 
 when the enemy's breath was so evidently fail- 
 ing, to press him hard on every side, and reduce 
 him to such a peace as might protect Europe from 
 Gallic aggression, and England firom Republi- 
 can innovation.* 
 
 Such were the arguments urged in public, both 
 in the House of Lords and Commons, on the pol- 
 icy of continuing the war; and both houses, by 
 a great majority, supported the administration ; 
 the numbers being in the lower house 240 to 59. 
 But the real motives which influenced both sides 
 were materially different. It was a domestic 
 war wliich was really waged ; it was the contest 
 between Aristocratic ascendency and Democratic 
 ambition which, at bottom, divided the country, 
 Real objects ^^'^ excited the fierce and implacable 
 in view by passions by which all classes were ac- 
 fnediflerent tuated. The popular party perceived 
 parties. t]j^f jj^gj^ chance of success was alto- 
 gether nugatory while the firm hand which now 
 held the reins continued at the head of affairs, 
 and that, while the national spirit was excited by 
 the war with France, tlie ascendency of the Con- 
 servative party might be looked upon as certain ; 
 while the adherents to ancient institutions felt 
 that the continuance of the contest at any price 
 was preferable to the flood of Democracy with 
 which they would be deluged at its close, and 
 that, till the excitement created by the French 
 Revolution had subsided, no passion but that for 
 war could be relied on to counteract its effects. 
 Thus, though the ground on which the parties 
 engaged was the expedience of continuing the 
 strife, the object which both parties had really 
 in view was the form of domestic government, 
 and the passions which actuated them, in truth, 
 the same as those which distracted France and 
 agitated Europe. 
 
 To enable government to carry on the war, 
 Supplies vo- Parliament voted supplies to the 
 ted by Par- amount of i;27,500,000, exclusive of 
 liiimeut. the interest of the debt; and in this 
 was included the enormous sum of £18,000,000 
 contracted by loan, the annual charge of which 
 was i;i, 100,000, which was provided for by a con- 
 siderable addition to the assessed taxes. But 
 the total expenditure of the year amounted to 
 £37,500,000, and the remainder was raised, in 
 spring, 1796, by exchequer bills and annuities, 
 to the amount of £13,500,000, which made the 
 total loan of that year £31,500,000. Mr. Pitt 
 stated it as a most remarkable circumstance, that 
 in the fourth year of so expensive a war, this 
 large loan was obtained at so low a rate as four 
 and a half per cent.; and, without doubt, it was 
 a signal proof of the profusion of capital and con- 
 fidence in government which prevailed in Brit- 
 ain. But he forgot the ruinous terms on which 
 the loan was contracted for future years; that a 
 iDond of £100 was given for every £60 advanced. 
 
 Ann. Reg., 1796, 12. Pari. Ilist., xxxii., 1030, 1048. 
 
 and posterity saddled with the payment of an im- 
 mense debt which the nation had never received. 
 This observation, how obvious soever, was not 
 then perceived by the ablest persons even of 
 practical habits; no one looked forward to the 
 repayment of the debt, and the nation reposed in 
 fancied security on the moderate annual charge 
 which the loan imposed on the country.* 
 
 Another matter of the highest importance gave 
 rise to the most vehement debates both Bills against 
 in the legislature and the country : public meet- 
 this was the bills which government '"ss- 
 brought forward for additional security to the 
 king's person, and the prevention of seditious 
 meetings. t No measure had been brought for- 
 ward by government since the Revolution which 
 excited such vehement opposition, both in the 
 legislature and the country, as these celebrated 
 statutes, which were stigmatized by the popular 
 party as the Pitt and Grenville acts, in order that 
 they might forever be held in execration by the 
 country. By the latter it was required that no- 
 tice should be given to the magistrate of any 
 public meeting to be held on political subjects ; 
 he was authorized to be present, and empov/ered 
 to seize those guilty of sedition on the spot ; and 
 a second offence against the act was punishable 
 with transportation. On the part of the opposi- 
 tion it was urged, that meetings held Arguments 
 under such restrictions, and with the against and 
 dread of imprisonment hanging over for these 
 the head of the speakers for any word statutes, 
 which might escape from them in the heat of 
 debate, could never be considered as the free and 
 unbiased meetings of Englishmen ; that so vio- 
 lent an infringement had never been attempted 
 on the liberties of the people since the days of the 
 Tudors; that if the times were so far changed 
 that Englishmen could no longer meet and de- 
 liberate on public affairs without endangering 
 the state, it would be better at once to surrender 
 their liberties, as in Denmark, into the hands of 
 a despotic sovereign ; that it was evident, how- 
 ever, that there really was no such danger as was 
 apprehended, but the alarm for it was only a pre- 
 tence to justify the adoption of arbitrary meas- 
 ures ; that it was in vain to appeal to the exam- 
 ple of France, as vindicating the necessity of 
 such rigorous enactments ; everybody knew that 
 the revolution in that country was not owing to 
 Jacobin clubs or the meetings of the people, but 
 to the corruptions of the court and the vices of 
 the political system; and if this bill should pass, 
 the people of this country, rendered desperate by 
 the imposition of similar fetters, would, without 
 all doubt, break, in their own defence, into simi- 
 lar excesses.: 
 
 On the other hand, it was argued by the ad- 
 ministration that it was necessary to consider 
 the bill attentively before representing it in such 
 odious colours; that it imposed restrictions only 
 on public assemblies, and left unfettered the 
 press, the great palladium of liberty in everj' 
 representative monarchy; that public meetings 
 required to be narrowly watched in turbulent 
 times, because it was in such great assemblages 
 that the passions took fire, and men were precip- 
 itated, by mutual applause, into violent measures; 
 that the great danger of such meetings was, that 
 only one side was heard, and extravagant senti- 
 ments were always those which gained most ap- 
 plause; that the object of the meetinsrs against 
 
 * Ann. Re?.. 1T9S, 53, fi4. App., 108. 
 
 t 36 Geo. III., c 18 and 36. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1796, 22, 27. Pari. Hist., xixiii., 24, 37. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 427 
 
 •which these enactments were levelled was no- 
 torious, being nothing less than the overthrow of 
 the monarchy, and the formation of a Republican 
 Constitution similar to that established with such 
 disastnjus effects in France ; that the proposed 
 enactments were certainly a novelty in this coun- 
 try, but so also was the Democratic spirit against 
 which it was levelled, and extraordinary times 
 required extraordinary remedies ; and that no 
 danger was to be apprehended to public freedom 
 as long as the press was unfettered, and juries 
 regarded with so much jealousy, as they now did, 
 all the measures which emanated from the au- 
 thority of government. The bill pas.s- 
 into^laws! ^^ ^^^ House of Commons by a majori- 
 ty of two hundred and fourteen to forty- 
 two, and the Hou.se of Lords by sLxty-six to 
 seven.* 
 
 So exasperated were the opposition Avith the 
 Opposition success of ministers on this occasion, 
 withdraw that Mr. Fox, and a large part of the 
 jn disgust, minority, withdrew altogether for a con- 
 siderable time from the house; a ruinous meas- 
 tu'e, dictated by spite and disappointment, and 
 which should never, on any similar occasion, be 
 repeated by true patriots. The bill was limited 
 in its duration to three years; and, after passing 
 both houses, received the royal assent.t 
 
 On coolly reviewing the subject of such vehe- 
 ment contention in the Parliament and the nation, 
 it is impossible to deny that it is beset with difh- 
 culties, and that nothing but the manifest dan- 
 ger of the times could have furnished an excuse 
 for so wide a deviation from the principles of 
 British freedom. At the same time, it is mani- 
 fest that the bills, limited as they were in their 
 duration, and partial in their operation, were not 
 calculated to produce the mischiefs which their 
 opponents so confidently predicted. The proof 
 of this is decisive: the bills were pa.s.sed, and the 
 liberties of England not only remained entire, but 
 have since that time continually gone on increas- 
 ing. In truth, the management of a country 
 ■which has become infected with the contagion of 
 Democratic ambition is one of the most difficult 
 matters in government, and of which the princi- 
 ples are only now beginning to be understood. 
 It is always to be recollected, that the fonnidable 
 thing in periods of agitation, and against which 
 governments are, in an especial manner, called 
 
 .„ , .. to oppose a barrier, is not the dis- 
 
 Kenections on ^.'Lt. ■ ■ t- i • 
 
 these statutes, content arismg from real grievance, 
 but the passion springing from pop- 
 ular ambition. The first, being founded in rea- 
 son and justice, is easily dealt with: it .subsides 
 with the removal of the cau.ses from which it 
 arose, and strong measures are never either re- 
 quired or justifiable for its suppression. The 
 second, being a vehement passion, arising from 
 no real evil, but awakened by the anticipation 
 of power, is insatiable; it increases with every 
 gratification it receives, and conducts the nation, 
 through blood and suffering, by a sure and rapid 
 process, to military despotism. The same dan- 
 ger to freedom is to be apprehended from the pre- 
 vention of the expression of real suffering, as 
 from the concession of fuel to Democratic ambi- 
 tion. Reform and redress are the remedies suit- 
 ed to the former; resistance and firmness the 
 regimen adapted to the latter. In considering, 
 therefore, whether the measures of Mr. Pitt at 
 that period were justifiable or not, the question 
 
 * Ann. Res-., 1796, 23, 32. Pari. Hist., .-cxxiii., 49, 62. 
 t Ana. Reg., 1796, 46. 
 
 is. Did the public discontents arise from the ex- 
 perience of real evils, or the contagion of Demo- 
 cratic ambition"? and when it is recollected from 
 what example, in the neighbouring kingdom, 
 these passions were exciteii, how much the liber- 
 ties of England have subsequently augmented, 
 and what a career of splendour and prosperity 
 has since been opened, it is evident that no ra- 
 tional doubt can be entertained on the subject. 
 And the event has proved that more danger to 
 freedom is to be apprehended from conce.ssioa 
 than resistance in such circumstances ; for Brit- 
 ish liberty has since that time steadily increased 
 under all the coercion applied by a firm govern- 
 ment to its exces.ses, while French enthusiasm 
 has led to no practical protection of the people ; 
 and the nation has perpetually laboured under a 
 succession of despots, in the vain endeavour to 
 establish a chimerical equality. 
 
 Previous to the opening of the campaign of 
 1796, the British government, in or- gth March 
 der to bring the French Directory to 1796. Pro'po- 
 the test, authorized their agent in ^^^'^ for peace 
 Switzerland, Mr. Wickham, to make ^^J^^ ^"'■'^}^ 
 advances to their minister on the wh^ichTare'ie- 
 subject of a general peace. The jected by the 
 Directory replied that they could Directory, 
 only treat on the footing of the Constitution ; in 
 other words, that they must insist on retaining 
 the Low Countries. This at once brought mat- 
 ters to an issue, for neither Austria nor England 
 was as yet sufficiently humbled to consent to 
 such terms. The declaration of this resolution, 
 however, on the part of the Directory, was of 
 great service to the English cabinet, by demon- 
 strating the impossibility of treating, without 
 abandoning all the objects of the war, and put- 
 ting France permanently in possession of a sa- 
 lient angle, from which it threatened the liberties 
 of all Europe, and wliich experience has proved 
 cannot be left in its hands without exposing 
 them to imminent hazard. Mr. Pitt accordingly 
 announced the resolution of the Di- 
 rector}- to the British Parliament, w',] '9 ''i" gg 
 and immediately obtained farther 
 supplies for carrying on the war : an additional 
 loan of i;7,500,000 was negotiated, upon as fa- 
 vourable terms as the former, and exchequer 
 bills to the amount of j;6,0()0,000 more put 
 at the disposal of government, out of which 
 X3,0()0,000 was granted to Austria.* 
 
 The first active operations of this memorable 
 year took place in La Vendee, where operations 
 the Republican general, Hoche, com- of Hoche m 
 manded an army of 100,000 men. ^'^ Vendee. 
 This vast force, the greatest which the Republic 
 had on foot, compo.sed of all the troops in the 
 west of P'rance, and those drawn from Biscay 
 and the western Pyrenees, was intrusted to a 
 general of twenty-seven years of age, whose ab- 
 solute power extended over all the insurgent 
 provinces. He was every way qualified for the 
 important but difficult duty with which he was 
 charged. Endowed by nature with a clear judg- 
 ment, an intrepid character, and an unconquera- 
 ble resolution ; firm, sagacious, and humane, he 
 was eminently fitted for that mixture of gentle- 
 ness and resolution which is necessary to heal 
 the wounds and subdue the passions of civil 
 war. This rare combination of civil and mili- 
 tarj- qualities might have rendered him a formi- 
 dable rival of Napoleon, and possibly endanger- 
 
 * Ann. Reg 
 Jam., viii., 8. 
 
 1796. App., 108. Th., viii., 200, 201. 
 
428 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXI. 
 
 ed the public peace, liad he not united to these 
 shining parts a patriotic heart, and a love of lib- 
 erty which rendered him superior to all tempta- 
 tion; and more likely, had he lived, to have Ibl- 
 lowed the example of Washington than the foot- 
 steps of CsDsar or Cromwell.* 
 
 Hoche's plan, which was approved of by the 
 Director}', was to reduce La Vendee, and all the 
 provinces to the south of the Loire, before ma- 
 king any attempt upon Brittany, or the depart- 
 ments to the north of that river. All the towns 
 in the insurgent district were declared in a state 
 of siege ; the Republican army was authorized 
 to maintain itself in the country where hostilities 
 were continued, and to levy the necessaiy requi- 
 sitions from the peasantry ; and the towns which 
 fell into the possession of the Republicans were 
 to be protected and provided for like captured 
 fortresses. Pardon was proclaimed to all the 
 chiefs who should lay down their arms, while 
 those who continued the contest were ordei'ed to 
 be .shot.t 
 
 During the absence of Hoche at Paris, in the 
 Successes of ^^V^^^ oi' winter, when aiTanging this 
 Cliarette and plan with the Directory, the Royal- 
 Stofflet during ist chiefs, in particular Charette and 
 the winter. StofBet, gained considerable suc- 
 cesses; the project of disarming the insurgent 
 provinces had made little progress : and the for- 
 mer of these chiefs, having broken through the 
 line, had appeared in the rear of the Republi- 
 cans. But the arrival of the general-in-chief re- 
 stored vigour and unanimity to their operations. 
 Charette was closely pursued by several col- 
 umns, under the command of General Travot; 
 while Stofflet, cut otf from all communication 
 Avith the other Royalists, was driven back upon 
 the shores of the ocean. As a last resource, 
 Charette collected all his forces, and attacked 
 his antagonist at the passage of La Vie. The 
 Royalists, seized with a sudden panic, did not 
 combat with their accustomed vigour ; their 
 ranks were speedily broken ; their artillerj-, am- 
 munition, and sacred standard, all fell into the 
 hands of the enemy ; Charette himself 
 defeated" '^ ^^'^^ ditficulty made his escape, with 
 forty or fifty followers ; and, wander- 
 ing through forests and marshes, owed his safety 
 to the incorruptible fidelity of the peasants of the 
 Marais. In vain he endeavoured to elude his 
 pursuers and join Stofflet ; that intrepid chief, 
 himself pressed by the forces of the Re- 
 Stofflet public, after escaping a thousand perils, 
 was betrayed by one of his followers at 
 the farm of Pegrimaud, where he was seized, 
 gagged, and conducted to Angers. He there 
 met death with the same resolution which had 
 distinguished his life.f 
 
 This great success was necessary to establish 
 the credit of the young general, who, accused 
 equally by both parties — by the Royalists of se- 
 verity, and by the Republicans of moderation — 
 was so beset with difficulties and so much dis- 
 gusted with his situation, that he formally de- 
 manded his dismissal from the command. But 
 Camot, aware of his abilities, instead of accept- 
 ing his resignation, confirmed him in his ap- 
 pointments; and as a mark of the esteem of 
 government, .sent him two fine horses ; a present 
 not only highly acceptable, but ab.solutely neces- 
 sary to the young general ; for though at the 
 head of one hundred thousand men, and master 
 
 * Th., viii., 206. 
 
 t Jom., viii., 36. Th., viii., 212. 
 
 t Th., viii., 207. 
 
 of a quarter of France, he was reduced to such 
 straits by the fall of the paper in which the 
 whole paj' of the army was received, that he 
 was absolutely without horses or equipage of 
 any kind, and was glad to supply his immediate 
 necessities by taking half a dozen bridles and 
 saddles, and a few bottles of rum, from the stores 
 left by the English in Gluiberon Bay.* 
 
 Charette was now the only remaining obstacle 
 to the entire subjugation of the coun- Heroic cou- 
 try ; for as long as he lived, it never duct of Cha- 
 could be considered as pacified. ''«"<'. 
 Anxious to get quit of so formidable an enemy 
 on any terms, the Directory ofl^ered him a safe 
 retreat into England, with his family and such of 
 his followers as he might select, and a million 
 of francs for his o\\ti maintenance. Charette 
 replied, "I am ready to die with arms in my 
 hands, but not to fly and abandon my compan- 
 ions in misfortune. All the vessels of the Re- 
 public would not be sufficient to tran.sport my 
 brave soldiers into England. Far from fearing 
 your menaces, I will myself come to seek you in 
 your own camp." The Royalist officers, who per- 
 ceived that farther resistance had become hope- 
 less, urged him to retire to Britain, and await a 
 more favourable opportunity of renewing the 
 contest at the head of the pririces and nobilitj'- of 
 France. "Gentlemen," said he, with a severe 
 air, " I am not here to judge of the orders which 
 my sovereign has given me : I know them ; 
 they are the same which I myself have solicited. 
 Preserve towards them the same fidelity which I 
 shall do; nothing shall shake me in the dis- 
 charge of my dut}'."t 
 
 This indomitable chief, however, could not 
 long withstand the immense bodies ug js at length 
 which were now directed against taken rrisoner, 
 him. His band was gradually re- a^it shot, 
 duced from seven hundi-ed to fitty, and at last, 
 ten followers. With this handful of heroes he 
 long kept at bay the Republican forces; but at 
 length, pursued on every side, and tracked out 
 like a wild beast by bloodhounds, he was seized, 
 after a furious combat, and conducted, bleeding- 
 and mutilated, but unsubdued, to the Republican 
 headquarters. 
 
 General Travot, with the consideration due to 
 illustrious misfortune, treated him with respect 
 and kindness, but could not avert his fate. He 
 M-as conducted to Angers, where he was far from 
 experiencing from others the generous treatment 
 of this brave Republican general. Maltreated 
 by the brutal .soldiery; conducted along, yet drip- 
 ping with blood from his wounds, before the pop- 
 ulace of the town ; weakened by loss of blood, he 
 had need of all his fortitude of mind to sustain 
 his courage; but even in this extremity his firm- 
 ness never deserted him. On the 27th of March 
 he was removed from the prison of Angers to 
 that of Nantes. He entered into the latter town, 
 preceded by a numerous escort, closely guarded 
 by gendarmes and generals glittering in gold and 
 plumes, himself on foot, with his clothes torn and 
 bloody, pale and extenuated, yet more an object 
 of interest than all the splendid throng by whom 
 he was surrounded. Such was his exhaustion 
 from loss of blood, that the imdaunted chief faint- 
 ed on leaving the Quarter of Commerce ; but no 
 sooner was his strength revived by a glass of 
 water, than he marched on, enduring for two 
 hours, with heroic constancy, the abuse and im- 
 precations of the populace. He was immedi- 
 
 * Th., Tiu., 214. 
 
 t Lac., xiii., "3, 7&. 
 
179C.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 429 
 
 ately conducted to the Military Commission. His 
 examination lasted two hours ; but his answers 
 were all cleai", consistent, and dignified; openly 
 avowing his Royalist principles, and resolution 
 to maimain them to the last. Upon hearing the 
 sentence of death, he calmly asked for the suc- 
 cours of religion, which were granted him, and 
 slept peaceably the night before his execution.* 
 On the following morning he was brought out 
 to tlie scaffold. I'he rolling of drums, the as- 
 sembly of all the troops and National Guard, a 
 countless multitude of spectators, announced the 
 great event which was approaching. At length 
 the hero appeared, descended with a firm step the 
 stairs of the prison, and walked to the Place des 
 Agriculteurs,t where the execution was to take 
 place. A breathless silence prevailed. Cha- 
 rette advanced to the appointed place, bared his 
 breast, took his yet bloody arm out of the scarf, 
 and, without permitting his eyes to be bandaged, 
 himself gave the command, uttering, with his 
 last breath, the words " Vive le Roi!" 
 
 Thus perished Charette, the last and most in- 
 domitable of the Vendean chiefs, 
 character ^""^ Though the early massacres which 
 stained the Royalist cause at Mache- 
 coult were perpetrated without his orders, yet 
 he had not the romantic generosity or humane 
 turn of mind which formed the glorious charac- 
 teristics of Lescure, Larochejaquelein, and Bon- 
 champs. His mind, cast in a rougher mould, 
 was steeped in deeper colour's ; and in the later 
 stages of the contest, he executed, without scru- 
 ple, all the .severities which the terrible war in 
 which he was engaged called forth on both sides. 
 If his jealousy of others was sometimes injuri- 
 ous to the Royalist cause, his unconquerable 
 firmness prolonged it after every other chance of 
 success was hopeless ; his single arm supported 
 the struggle when the bravest of his followers 
 •were sinking in despair; and he has left behind 
 him the glorious reputation of being alike invin- 
 cible in resolution, inexhaustible in resources, 
 and unsubdued in disaster.}! 
 
 The death of Charette temiinated the war in 
 Termination the west of France, and gave more 
 of the war in joy to the Republicans than the most 
 La Vendee, brilliant victory over the Austrians. 
 The vast army of Hoche, spread over the whole 
 country from the Loire to the British Channel, 
 gradually pressed upon the insurgent provinces, 
 and drove the peasantry back towards the shores 
 
 * Beau.,iv., 201,202. 
 
 t Beau., 201, 202. Lac, xiii., 78, 79. Jom., viii., 39. 
 Th., viii., 216. 
 
 t Th., via., 217. Lac, xiii., 79. Beau., iv., 203. 
 
 ^ The character of this illustrious chief cannot be better 
 given than in the words of Napoleon : " Cliaret- 
 ^o"'"? n"*' ^^'" ^^'^ '"""' " ^^*^ ^ great character ; the true 
 Icon on him. ^^^ of that interesting period of our Revolution, 
 which, if it presents great misfortunes, has at 
 least not injured our glory. He left on me the impression 
 of real grandeur of miud ; the traces of no common energy 
 and audacity, the sparks of genius, are apparent in his ac- 
 tions." Las Casas recounted an anecdote of him when in 
 command of a small vessel early in life. Though regarded 
 as a person of mere ordinary capacity, he on one occasion 
 gave proof of the native energy of his mind. While still a 
 youth, he sailed from Brest in his cutter, which, having 
 lost its mast, was exposed to the most imminent danger ; the 
 sailors, on their knees, were praying to the Virgin, and to- 
 tally incapable of making any exertion, till Charette, by 
 killing one, succeeded in bringing the others to a sense of 
 their duty, and thereby saved the vessel. " There," said 
 Napoleon, " the true character always appears m great cir- 
 cumstances ; that was a spark which spoke the future hero 
 of La Vendee. We must not always judge of a character 
 from present appearances ; there are slumberers whose rous- 
 ing is terrible. Kleber was one of them ; but his waken- 
 ing was that of the lion." — Las Casas, vii., 104, 105. 
 
 of the ocean. The policy pursued by the Re- 
 publican general on this occasion was a model 
 of wisdom : he took the utmost pains to concili- 
 ate the parish priests, who had so powerful an 
 influence over the minds of the people ; and as 
 his columns advanced, seized the cattle and grain 
 of the peasantry, leaving at their dwellings a no- 
 tice that they would be restored to them when 
 they gave up their weapons, but not till then. 
 The consequence was, that the poor people, 
 threatened with famine if these their only re- 
 sources were withheld, were compelled univer- 
 sally to surrender their arms. The army, advan- 
 cing slowly, completed in this way the disarming 
 of the peasantry as they proceeded, and left no- 
 thing in their rear from which danger was to be 
 apprehended. At length they reached the ocean ; 
 and though the most resolute of the insurgent 
 bands fought with the courage of despair when 
 they found themselves driven back to the sea- 
 coast, yet the great work was at length accom- 
 plished, the country universally disarmed, and 
 the soldiers put into cantonments in the conquer- 
 ed district. The people, weary of a contest from 
 which no hope could now be entertained, at length 
 everywhere surrendered their arms and resumed 
 their pacific occupations ; the Republicans can- 
 toned in the villages lived on terms of friendship 
 with their former enemies, mutual exasperation 
 subsided, the clergy communicated openly with 
 a leader who had first treated them with sinceri- 
 ty and kindness, and before the end of the sum- 
 mer, Hoche, instead of requiring new troops, was 
 able to send great re-enforcements to the Direc- 
 tory for the support of tlie ai'mies on the Rhine 
 and in Italy.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the cabinet of Vienna, encour- 
 aged by the brilliant achievements Preparations 
 of CLairfait at the conclusion of the "f the Austri- 
 
 last campaign, and aware, from the ""f ^^,^'^\ 
 
 ^.. - ' f- T-ii 1 -i! ii duke Cliarles 
 
 incorporation of Flanders with the put at the head 
 French Republic, that no aceom- of the army m 
 modation was to be hoped for, was Germany, 
 making the utmost efforts to prosecute the war 
 with efiect. A new levy of twent)'-five thousand 
 men took place in the hereditary states ; the regi- 
 ments were universally rai.sed to their full com- 
 plement ; and every effort was made to turn to 
 advantage the military spirit and numerous pop- 
 ulation of the newly-acquired province of Galli- 
 cia. Clairfait, the conqueror of the lines of 
 Mayence, made a triumphal entry into Vienna 
 with unprecedented splendour ; but the Aulic 
 Council rewarded his achievements by the ap- 
 pointment of the Archduke Charles tothe com- 
 mand of the armies on the R,hine; a step which, 
 however ill-deserved by his gallant predecessor, 
 was soon justified by the great military abilities 
 of the young prince. + 
 
 The character of this illustrious chief cannot 
 be better given than in the words of his great an- 
 tagonist. " Prince Charles," said Napoleon, " is 
 a man whose conduct can never attract blame. 
 His soul belongs to the heroic age, but his heart 
 to that of gold. More than all, he is a good man, 
 and that includes eveiytliing when said of a 
 prince."j 
 
 The forces of the contending parties on the 
 Rhine were nearly equal ; but the Fo^es of the 
 Imperialists had a great superiority contending 
 in the number and quality of their parties on the 
 cavalry. On the Upper Rhine, Mo- ^^""'• 
 
 * Th., viii., 218. Jom., viii., 41, 49. 
 
 t Jom., viij., 5L Th., viii., 307. t D'Abr., it., 384. 
 
430 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXL 
 
 reau commanded 71,000 infantry and 6500 cav- 
 alry; while Wurmser, who was opposed to him, 
 was at the head of 02,000 foot and 22,000 horse ; 
 but, before the campaign was far advanced, 
 30,000 men were detached from this army to re- 
 enforce the broken troops of Beaulieu in Italy. 
 On the Lov/er Rhine, the archduke was at the 
 head of 71,000 infantry and 21,000 cavalry; 
 while the army of the Sambre andMeuse, under 
 Jourdan, numbered 03,000 of the former arm, 
 and 11,000 of the latter. The disproportion be- 
 tween the numerical strength on the opposite 
 sides, therefore, was not considerable ; but the 
 superiority of the Germans in the number and 
 quality of their cavalry gave them a great ad- 
 vantage in an open country, both in profiting by 
 success and arresting disaster. But, on the other 
 hand, the French were in possession of the for- 
 tresses of Luxembourg, Thionville, Metz, and 
 Sarre Louis, which rendered the centre of their 
 position almost unassailable ; their right was cov- 
 ered by Huningen, New Brisach, and the for- 
 tresses of Alsace, and their lett by Maestricht, 
 Juliers, and the iron barrier of the Netherlands, 
 while the Austrians had no fortiiied point what- 
 ever to support either of their M'ings. This 
 want, in a war of invasion, is of incalculable im- 
 portance ;* and the event soon proved that the 
 fortresses of the Rhine are as valuable as abase 
 for offensive, as a barrier to support defensive 
 operations. 
 
 The plan of the Aulic Council was, in the 
 .„, ^ , north to force the passage of the Mo- 
 AuTnans ^^lle, cariy the war into Flanders, 
 and rescue that flourishing province 
 from the grasp of the Republicans ; and for this 
 purpose they had brought the greater mass of 
 their forces to the Lower Rhine. On the upper, 
 they proposed to lay siege to Landau, and, hav- 
 ing driven the Republicans over the mountains 
 on the west of the valley of the Rhine, blockade 
 Strasburg. But for some reason which has nev- 
 er been divulged, they remained in a state of in- 
 activity untilthe end of May, while Beaulieu, 
 with fifty thousand men, was striving in vain to 
 resist the torrent of Napoleon's conquests in Lom- 
 bardy. The consequences of this delay proved 
 fatal to the whole campaign. Hardly was the ar- 
 mistice denounced in the end of May, 
 May 31, 1/96. ^^.j^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ arrived to Wurm- 
 ser to detach twenty-five thousand of his best 
 troops by the Tyrolese Alps into Italy ; a de- 
 duction which, by necessarily reducing the Im- 
 perialists on the Upper Rhine to the defensive, 
 rendered it hardly possible for the archduke to 
 push forward the other army towards the Mo- 
 selle. There still remained, however, one hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand Imperialists on the fron- 
 tiers of Germany, including above forty thou- 
 sand superb cavalry; a force which, if earlier 
 brought into action, and placed under one leader, 
 might have changed the fate of the war. The 
 French inferiority in horse was compensated by 
 a superiority of twenty thousand foot-soldiers. 
 The Austrians had the immense advantage of 
 possessing two fortified places, Mayence and 
 Manheim, on the Rhine, which gave them the 
 means of debouching wdth equal facility on ei- 
 ther side of that stream,t while the Republicans 
 only held a tetc-du-pont at Dusseldorf, so far re- 
 moved to the north as to be of little service in 
 commencing operations. 
 
 The events of this struggle demonstrate, in the 
 
 * Archduke Ch., ii., 10, 12. Jom., viii., 170. Th., viii., 
 206, 307. t Archduke Charleg, ii., 201. 
 
 most Striking manner, the great importance of 
 early success in war, and by what a necessary 
 chain of consequences an inconsiderable advan- 
 tage at first often determines the fate of a cam- 
 paign. A single victory gained by the Au.^tri- 
 ans on the Sarre or the Moselle would have 
 compelled the French armies to dissolve them- 
 selves in order to garrison the frontier towns ; 
 and the Directory, to defend its own territories, 
 would have been obliged to aiTest the career of 
 Napoleon in the Italian plains, while, by taking 
 the initiative, and carrying the war into Germa- 
 ny, they were enabled to leave their fortresses 
 defenceless, and swell, by their garrisons, the 
 invading force which soon proved so perilous 
 to the Austrian monarchy.* 
 
 The plan of the Republicans was to move for- 
 ward the army of the Sambre and 
 Meuse by Dusseldorf, to the right ^^^Z'^L. 
 bank of the Rhine, in order to threat- 
 en the communication of the archduke with 
 Germany, induce him to recross it, and facili- 
 tate the passage of the upper part of the stream 
 by Moreau. In conformity with this design, 
 Kleber, on the 30th of May, crossed the Rhine 
 at Dusseldorf, and, with twenty-five thousand 
 men, began to press the Austrians on the Sieg, 
 where the archduke had only twenty thousand, 
 the great bulk of his army, sixty thousand 
 strong, being on the right bank in front of May- 
 ence. The Republicans succeeded in defeating 
 the advanced posts of the Imperial- j^^^g 4 .pj^^^ 
 ists, crossed the Sieg, turned the po- cross the Low- 
 sition of Ukerath, and drove them er Rlnne, and 
 back to Altenkirchen. There the ^^l^^""'"^"""' 
 Austrians stood firm, and a severe 
 action took place. General Ney, with a body 
 of light troops, turned their left, and threatened 
 their communications, while Kleber, having ad- 
 vanced through the hills of Weyersbusch, as- 
 sailed their I'ront, and Soult menaced their re- 
 sene at Kropach. The result of these move- 
 ments was, that the Austrians were driven be- 
 hind the Lahn at Limburg, with the loss of fif- 
 teen hundred prisoners and twelve pieces of can- 
 non.t 
 
 This victory- produced the desired effect, by 
 drawing the archduke, with the xheyaredriv- 
 greater part of his forces, across the en back across 
 Rhine to succour the menaced the Rhine by 
 points. On the lOth he passed that the archduke, 
 river with thirty-two battalions and eight}- squad- 
 rons, arrived in the neighbourhood of Limburg 
 four days after, and moved, with forty-five thou- 
 sand infantry and eighteen thousand cavalry, 
 against the Republicans on the German side. 
 Jourdan, upon this, leaving Marceau, with twen- 
 ty thousand men near Mayence, crossed the 
 Rhine at Neuwied, with the bulk of his forces, 
 to support Kleber. His intention was to cover 
 the investment of Ehrenbreilstein, and for this 
 purpose cross the Lahn and attack Wartensle- 
 ben, who commanded the advanced guard of the 
 Imperialists; but the archduke, resolv- ^^^^ j^^^ 
 ed to take the initiative, anticipated 
 him by a day, and commenced an attack with all 
 his forces. The position of the Republicans was 
 in the highest degree critical, as they were com- 
 pelled to fight with the Rhine on their right flank, 
 and between them and France, which would 
 have exposed them to utter ruin in case of a 
 serious reverse. The archduke judiciously 
 
 * Jom., Tiii., 173. 
 
 t Jom., viii., 182, and Pieces Just., No. 12. Th., viu., 
 308. Ney, i., 155, 177. Arch. CU., ii.; 64, 74. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 431 
 
 brought the mass of his forces against the French 
 left, and, having overwhehned it, Jourdan was 
 compelled to draw back all his troops, to avoid 
 being driven into the river, and completely de- 
 stroyed amid its precipitous banks. He accord- 
 ingly retired to Neuwied, and recrossed the 
 Rliine, while Kleber received orders to retire to 
 Dusseldorf, and regain the left bank. Kray pur- 
 sued him with the right wing of the Austrians, 
 and a bloody and furious action ensued at Uke- 
 rath, which at length terminated to the disad- 
 vantage of the French, in consequence of the 
 impetuous charges of the imperial cavalry. 
 Kleber indignantly continued his retreat, and re- 
 gained the intrenched camp around the letc-dv^ 
 font at Dusseldorf* 
 
 Meanwhile the army on the Upper Rhine, under 
 Operations of ^^^ Command of MoREAU, had com- 
 Moreau on the mcnccd ofleusive operations. This 
 Upper Rhine, great general, bom in 17G3, at Mor- 
 His origin and j^ix in Brittany, had been originally 
 character. ^^.^^ ^^ ^j^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ during the pub- 
 lic dangers of 1793, having been called to the 
 profession of arms, he rapidly rose to the rank of 
 general of division. His talents, his virtues, and 
 his misfortunes have secured him a distinguished 
 place in the page of history. Gifted with rare 
 sagacity, an imperturbable coolness in presence 
 of danger, and a rapid coup d'ail in the field of 
 battle, he was eminently qualified for military 
 success ; but his modesty, moral indecision, and 
 retiring habits rendered him unfit to cope in po- 
 litical life with the energy and ambition of Na- 
 poleon. He was, accordingly, illustrious as a 
 general, but imfortunate as a statesman; a sin- 
 cere Republican, he disdained to accept elevation 
 at the expense of the public freedom; and, after 
 vanquishing the Imperialists at Hohenlinden, 
 sunk before the audacity and fortune of his 
 younger and less scrupulous rival.t 
 
 On arriving at the command, after the dismiss- 
 Q . al of Pichegru, he applied himself 
 
 o/Ms'army! assiduously, with the aid of Regnier, 
 to reorganize and restore the army, 
 ■whose spirit the disasters of the preceding cam- 
 paign had considerably weakened. The French 
 centre, thirty thousand strong, cantoned at the 
 foot of the Vosges Mountains, was placed under 
 the orders of De.saix ;{ the left wing, under St. 
 Cyr, had its headquarters at Deuxponts ; while 
 the right, under Moreau in person, occupied 
 Strasburg and Huningen. The Austrians, in 
 like manner, were in three divisions; the right 
 wing, twenty-two thousand strong, was encamped 
 in the neighbourhood of Kayserslautern, and 
 communicated with the Archduke Charles; the 
 centre, under the orders of Starray, amounting to 
 twenty-three thousand infantry and nine thousand 
 horse, was at Muschbach and Manheim, while 
 the left wing, comprehending twenty-four thou- 
 
 Jom., viii., 185, 194. Th, 
 
 viu., 
 Arch. Ch., 
 
 * Arch. Ch., ii., 74,92 
 309. Nev, 180, 197. 
 
 t Th., viii., 307, 310. Jem., viii., 169, 195 
 ii., 19. 
 
 X " Of all the generals I ever had under me," said Napo- 
 leon, " Desaix and Kleber possessed the greatest talents, 
 especially DesaLx, as Kleber only loved war as it was the 
 means of procuring him riches and jileasures, whereas De- 
 saix loved glory for itself, and despised everything else. 
 Desaix was wholly wrapped up in war and glory. To him 
 riches and pleasures were valueless, nor did he give them a 
 moment's thought. He despised comfort and convenience ; 
 ■wrapped m a cloak, he threwhimself under a gun, and slept 
 as Contentedly as in a palace. Upright and honest m all his 
 proceedings, he was called by the Arabs the Just Sultan. 
 Kleber and Desaix were an irreparable loss to the French 
 army."— O'Meara, i., 237, 838, 
 
 sand infantry and .seven thousand cavalry, ex- 
 tended along the course of the Rhine Irom Phil- 
 ipsburg to Bikle. Thus, notwithstanding all their 
 rnistbrtunes, the Imperialists still adhered to the 
 ruinous system of extending their forces; a plan 
 of operations destined to bring about all but the 
 ruin of the monarchy.* 
 
 Moreau resolved to pass the Rhine at Stras- 
 burg, as that powerful Ibrtress was an passage of 
 excellent point of departure, while the the Rhine 
 numerous wooded islands which there by Moreai. 
 interrupted the course of the river afforded every 
 facility for the concealment of the project. The 
 fortress of Kehl, on the opposite shore, beyig 
 negligently guarded, lay open to surprise, and, 
 once secured, promised the means of a safe pa.s- 
 sage to the whole army. The Austrians on the 
 Upper Rhine were, from the very beginning of 
 the campaign, reduced to the defensive, in conse- 
 quence of the large detachment made under 
 Wurmser to the Tyrol ; while the invasion of 
 Germany by the army of Jourdan spread the 
 belief that it was in that quarter that the serious 
 attack of the Republicans was to be made. To 
 mislead the Imperialists still farther from his 
 real design, Moreau made a general attack on 
 their intrenchments at Manheim, which had the 
 effect of inducing them to withdraw the greater 
 part of their forces to the right bank, leaving only 
 fifteen battalions to guard the tele-du-pont on the 
 French side. Meanwhile, Wurmser having de- 
 parted at the head of twenty -eight thousand choice 
 troops for Italy, the command of both armies 
 devolved on the archduke. Moreau deemed this 
 juncture favourable for the execution of his de- 
 sign upon Kehl, and accordingly, on „„ . 
 the evening of the 23d, the gates of Stras- •^"°*- 
 burg were suddenly closed, all intercourse with, 
 the German shore was rigidly prohibited, and 
 columns of troops marched in all directions to- 
 wards the point of embarcation.t 
 
 The points selected for this hazardous opera- 
 tion were Gambsheim and Kehl. Admirable 
 Twelve thousand men were collected skill shown in 
 at the first point, and sixteen thou- ^te passage, 
 sand at the second, both detachments being imder 
 the orders of Desaix, while the forces of the Im- 
 perialists were so scattered, that they could not 
 assemble above seventeen thousand men in forty- 
 eight hours in any quarter that might be mena- 
 ced. At midnight the troops defiled in difierent 
 columns and profound silence towards the sta- 
 tions of embarcation, while false attacks, at- 
 tended with much noise and con.stant discharges 
 of artillery, were made at other places, to distract 
 the attention of the enemy. At half past one De- 
 saix gave the signal for departure ; two thousand 
 five hundred men embarked in silence, and row- 
 ed across the arm of the Rhine to the island of 
 Ehslar Rhin, which was occupied by the Impe- 
 rialists. They fell, without firing a shot, with 
 so much impetuosity upon their videttes, that the 
 Germans fled in disorder to the right bank, with- 
 out thinking of cutting the bridges of boats which 
 connected the island with the shore. Thither 
 they were speedily followed by the Republicans, 
 who, although unsupported by cavalry or artil- 
 lery, ventured to advance into the plain, and ap- 
 proach the ramparts of Kehl. With heroic reso- 
 lution, but the most prudent in such circumstan- 
 ces, the commander sent back the boats instantly 
 to the French side, to bring over re-enforcementa, 
 
 * Arch. Ch., ii., 24. Jom., viii., 196, 197. St. Cyr, iii., 
 33, 37. t Th., viii., 310, 31}. Jom., viii., 199, 205. 
 
432 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXL 
 
 leaving this little band alone and unsupported, in 
 the midst of the enemy's army. Their advanced 
 guard was speedily assailed by the Swabian con- 
 tingent, greatly superior in numbers, which were 
 encamped in that neighbourhood ; but they were 
 repulsed by the steadiness of the French infantry, 
 supported by two pieces of artillery, which they 
 had captured on first landing on the shore. Be- 
 fore six o'clock in the morning a 
 Which proves j^g^, detachment of equal strength 
 successful. . . „ . T. •! . u 
 
 arrived, a flymg bridge was estab- 
 lished between the island and the left bank, and 
 the Republicans found themselves in such 
 strength, that they advanced to the attack of the 
 intrenchments of Kehl, which were carried at 
 the point of the bayonet, the troops of Swabia, 
 intrusted %vith the defence, flying with such pre- 
 cipitation that they lost thirteen pieces of cannon 
 and seven hundred men.* On the following day, 
 a bridge of boats was established between Stras- 
 burg and Kehl, and the whole army passed over 
 in safety. 
 
 Such was the passage of the Rhine at Kehl, 
 ■which at the time was celebrated as an exploit 
 of the most glorious character. Without doubt, 
 the secrecy, rapidit}% and decision with which it 
 was caiTied into efiect, merit the highest eulogi- 
 um. But the weakness and dispersion of the 
 enemy's forces rendered it an enterprise of com- 
 paratively little hazard ; and it was greatly infe- 
 rior, both in point of difficulty and danger, to the 
 passage of the same river in the following cam- 
 paign at Dursheim, or the passages of the Dan- 
 ube at Wagram, and of the Berezina at Stu- 
 denki by Napoleon.t 
 
 Moreau had now the fairest opportunity of 
 Cautious destroying the Austrian army on the 
 movements Upper Rhine b)' a series of diverging 
 of Moreau. attacks similar" to those by which Ka- 
 poleon had discomfited the army of Beaulieu in 
 Piedmont. He had eflected a passage, with a 
 superior force, into the centre of the enemy's 
 line ; and by rapid movements, might have stiiick 
 right and left as weighty blows as that great cap- 
 tain dealt out at Dego and Montenotte. But the 
 French general, however consummate a com- 
 mander, had not the fire or energy by which his 
 3''ounger rival was actuated, and tntsted for suc- 
 cess rather to skilful combinations or methodical 
 arrangements, than those master-strokes which 
 are attended with peril, but frequently domineer 
 over fortune by the intensity of the passions 
 ■which they awaken among mankind.: 
 
 Having at length collected all his divisions on 
 He advances the right bank, Moreau, at the end 
 towarits the of Juue, advanced to the foot of the 
 Black Forest, mountains of the Black Forest, at 
 the head of seventy-one thousand men. This 
 celebrated chain forms a mass of rocky hills 
 covered with fir, separating the valley of the 
 Rhine from that of the Neckar. The Swabian 
 contingent, ten thousand strong, was already 
 posted at Renchen, once so famous in the wars 
 of Turenne, occupying the entrance of the de- 
 files which lead through the mountains. They 
 were there attacked by the Republicans, and 
 driven from their position with the loss of ten 
 pieces of cannon and eight hundred men.§ 
 
 Meanwhile the Imperialists were collecting 
 
 * Th.,viii.. 312. Jom., viii.,209, 211. St. Cyr, iii., 33. 
 46. Arch. Ch., ii., 109. 110. 
 
 t .Tom., viii.. 211. Th., viii., 313. 
 
 t St. Cyr. ill.. 54, 55. Th., viii., 314. Jom., viii., 212. 
 Arch. Ch., ii., 121. 
 
 Ij Jom., viii., 218. Th., viii., 315. Arch. Ch., ii., 116. 
 
 their scattered forces with the utmost Archduke 
 haste, to make head against the fonni- hastens to 
 dable enemy who had thus burst into the the scene 
 centre of their line. The Archduke "f danger. 
 Charles had no sooner received the intelligence 
 than he resolved to hasten in person to arrest the 
 advance of an army threatening to fall upon his 
 line of communications, and possibly get the 
 start of him on the Danube. I'or this purpose 
 he set off on the 2Gth, with twenty-four battalions 
 and thirty -nine squadrons, from the banks of the 
 Lahn, and advanced by forced marches towards 
 the Black Forest, while the scattered divisions 
 of Wurmser's army were converging towards 
 the menaced point.* 
 
 Moreau's plan was to descend the valley of 
 the Rhine with his centre and left wing, under 
 the command of Desaix and St. Cyr, while his 
 right, under Ferino, attacked and carried the de- 
 files of the Black Forest, and pushed to the banks 
 of the Neckar. The Austrians on the Upper 
 Rhine and the Murg were about forty-eight 
 thousand strong, while the archduke Avas hast- 
 ening with hall' that number to their support. 
 Previous to advancing to the northward, Moreau 
 detached some brigades from his centre to clear 
 the right flank of the army, and drive the enemy 
 from the heights of the Black Forest, which was 
 successfully accomplished. MeauAvhile the left 
 wing continuing to descend the valley of the Dan- 
 ube, through a broken countiy intersected with 
 woods and ravines, approached the indecisive 
 corps of Latour, who defended the actions on 
 banks of the Murg with twenty-se^-en ^^<^ Murg. 
 thousand men. He was attacked there by the 
 centre of the Republicans with nearly the same 
 force, the left, under St. Cyr, not having yet ar- 
 rived, and after an indecisive engagement, the 
 Austrians retired in the best order, covered by 
 their numerous cavalr\', lea\ing to their antago- 
 nists no other advantage but the possession of 
 the field of battle. Important re-enforcements 
 speedily came up on both sides ; the archduke 
 arrived with tv.-enty-four thousand men to the 
 support of the Imperialists, while Moreau coun- 
 terbalanced the acquisition by bringing up St. 
 Cyr, with liis whole left wing, to his aid. The 
 forces on the two sides were now nearly equal, 
 amounting on either to about fifty thousand men; 
 and their situation was nearly the same, both be- 
 ing at right angles to the Rhine, and extending 
 from that .stream, through a marshy and wooded 
 plain, to the mountains of the Black Forest.t 
 
 The archduke, who felt the value of time, and 
 was apprehensive of being speedily -j^g French 
 recalled to the defence of the Lower gam success 
 Rhine, resolved to commence the at- nn tlie impe- 
 tack, and in order to render his nu- ^"*' "°*^'^ 
 merous cavalr}' of service, to engage as much 
 as possible in 'the plain. For this purpose he 
 advanced the Saxons on his left to turn the 
 French right in the mountains, and threaten- 
 ed their rear, strengthened the plateau of Roth- 
 en.sol, where his lell centre rested, advanced his 
 centre to Malsch, and arranged his fonuidable 
 cavalr>', supported by ten battalions, so as to 
 press the left of the Republicans in the plain of 
 the Rhine. His attack was fixed for the 10th of 
 July, but Moreau, who deemed it hazardous to 
 remain on the defensive, anticipated him j^^, g 
 by a general attack on the preceding day. 
 Wisely judging th at it was of importance to 
 
 * Arch. Ch.jii.. 125. St. Cvr, iii., 50,71. Jom., viii., 218. 
 t Th., viii., 318. Arch. Ch., ii., 134, 138. Jom., riii., 
 220, 225. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 433 
 
 avoid the plain, where the numerous cavalry of 
 the Auslrians promised to be of such advantage, 
 he entirely drew back his own left, and directed 
 the weight of his force by his right against the 
 Austrian position in the mountains. St. Cyr, 
 ■who conmiandcd the Republicans in that quar- 
 ter, was charged with the assault of the pla- 
 teau of Rothensol, an elevated plain in the 
 midst of the rocky ridges of the Black Forest, 
 the approaches to which were entangled with 
 shrubs, scaurs, and underwood, and which was 
 occupied by six Austrian battalions. These 
 brave troops repulsed successive attacks of the 
 French columns; but having, on the defeat of 
 the last, pursued the assailants into the rugged 
 and woody ground on the declivity of the heights, 
 their ranks became broken, and St. Cyr, return- 
 ing to the charge, routed the Imperialists, carried 
 the position, and drov^e back their left towards 
 Pforzheim. Meanwhile Desaix, with the French 
 centre, commenced a furious attack on the vil- 
 lage of Malsch, which, after being taken and re- 
 taken several times, finally remained in the 
 power of the Auslrians. Their numerous cav- 
 alry now deployed in the plain ; but the French 
 kept cautiously under cover of the woods and 
 thickets with which the country abounded ; and 
 the Austrians, notwithstanding their great supe- 
 riority in horse, were unable to obtain any far- 
 ther success than repulsing the attacks on their 
 centre and right, towards the banks of the Rhine.* 
 The relative situation of the contending par- 
 
 The archduke ti^S was now Very singular. Mo- 
 resolves to re- reau had dislodged the Imperialists 
 treat. from the moimtains, and by throw- 
 
 ing fora-ard his right, he had it in his power to 
 cut them off from the line of communication with 
 the hereditary states, and menace their retreat to 
 the valley of the Danube. On the other hand, by 
 so doing, he was himself exposed to the danger 
 of being separated from his base in the valley of 
 the Rhine, seeing Desaix crushed by the victori- 
 ous centre and numerous cavalry of the Aus- 
 trians, and St. Cyr isolated and endangered in 
 the mountains. A general of Napoleon's reso- 
 lution and ability would possibly have derived 
 from this combination of circumstances the 
 means of achieving the most splendid success- 
 es ; but the archduke was prevented from fol- 
 lowing so energetic a course by the critical cir- 
 cumstances of the Au.strian dominions, which 
 lay exposed and unprotected to the attacks of the 
 enemy, and the perilous situation in which he 
 might be placed in case of disaster, with a hos- 
 tile army on one side, and a great river lined with 
 enemy's fortresses on the other. For these rea- 
 sons he resolved to forego the splendid to pursue 
 the prudent course ; to retire from the frontier to 
 the interior of Germany, and to regain, by the 
 valleys of the Maine and the Neckar, the plain 
 of the Danube, which river, supported by the 
 fortresses of Ulm and Ratisbon, was the true 
 frontier of Austria, and brought him as much 
 nearer his own as it withdrew the enem)' from 
 their resources. With this view he retired, by a 
 forced march, in the evening, to Pforzheim, with- 
 out being disquieted in his movement ; and, after 
 throwing garri.sons into Philipsburg and Man- 
 heim, prepared to abandon the valley of the 
 Rhine, and retreat by the Neckar into the Bava- 
 rian plains.t 
 
 * Th., viii., 320. Jom., viii., 227, 233. Arch. Ch., li., 
 138, 149. St. Cyr, iii., 68, 69. 
 
 t Arch. Ch., h., 148, 149. Jom., viii., 234. Th., viii., 
 322. 326. St. Cyr, ii., 54, 59. 
 
 Vol. I.— 1 1 1 
 
 Agreeably to this plan, the Imperialists broke 
 up on the I4th from Ploizheim, and 
 retired slowly and in the best onler j^'?, '•'' ^"' 
 towards Stutgardt and the right bank 
 of the Neckar. By so doing they drew nearer 
 to the army of Wartensleben, and gained the 
 great object of obtaining a central and interior 
 line of communication, from which the arch- 
 duke soon derived the most brilliant advantages. 
 Meanwhile Moreau advanced his right centre 
 under St. Cyr, through the mountains to Pforz- 
 heim, while the right v/ing, under Ferino, spread 
 itself through the Black Forest to the frontiers of 
 Switzerland. The result was, that by 
 themiddleof July, the Republican army '' " ^' 
 covered a space fifty leagues broad, from Stut- 
 gardt to the Lake of Constance.* 
 
 Meanwhile important operations had taken 
 place on the Lower Rhine. No sooner Operations 
 was Jourdan informed of the passage oiuheLow- 
 of the Rhine at Kehl, and the depart- erRhme. 
 ure of the archduke to re-enforce the army of 
 Wurmser, than he hastened to recross 
 the same river at Dus.seldorf and Neu- '^""'y- 
 wied, advancing, as he had always before done, 
 towards the Lahn, with a view to debouch into 
 the valley of the Maine. The Imperialists, un- 
 der Wartensleben, now consisted of only twent}'- 
 flve thousand infantry and eleven thousand cav- 
 alry, a force totally inadequate to make head 
 against the Republicans, who amounted, even. 
 after the necessary deductions to blockade May- 
 ence, Cassel, and Ehrenbreitstein, to fifty thou- 
 sand men. At the period of the passage of the 
 river, the Austrian army was scattered over a long 
 line, and might have been easily beaten in detail 
 by an enterprising enemy ; but Jourdan allowed 
 tliem to concentrate their troops behind the Lahn, 
 without deriving any advantage irom his supe- 
 riority of force. After some inconsid- 
 erable skirmishing, the Republicans i^th July, 
 crossed that river, and the Austrians having 
 stood firm in the position of Friedberg, a partial 
 action ensued, which terminated to the disadvan- 
 tage of the latter, who, alter a vigorous resistance, 
 finding their right flank turned by Lefebvre, re- 
 treated with the loss of two pieces of cannon and 
 twelve hundred men. After this success Jour- 
 dan advanced to the banks of the Maine, and by 
 a bombardment of two days compelled his ad- 
 versaries to evacuate the great city of Frankfort, 
 and retire altogether to the right bank of that riv- 
 er. The Austrians now drew all their disposa- 
 ble troops out of the fortress of Mayence, and 
 raised their force under Wartensleben to thirty 
 thousand infantry and fifteen thousand cavalry, 
 while Jourdan's army on the right bank of the 
 Maine was swelled by the addition of some of 
 the blockading corps to forty-six thousand of the 
 former arm and eight thousand of the latter.t 
 
 The Directory, in prescribing the conduct of 
 the campaign to the generals, were con- Erroneous 
 slantly influenced by the desire to turn piauofthe 
 at once both flanks of the enemy : an cumpai^ 
 injudicious design, which, by giving an ^y the Di- 
 eccentric direction to their forces, and ^'^'^ °'^' 
 preventing them from communicating with or as- 
 sisting each other, led to all the disasters which 
 signalized the conclusion of the campaign; while 
 the archduke, by giving a concentric direction to 
 his forces in their retreat, and ultimately arriving 
 at a point where he could fall, with an over- 
 
 ♦ Jom., viii., 237. Arch. Ch., ii., IT.i. 
 t Til., viii., 323. Jom., viii., 264, 278. Arch. Ch., ii., 
 ISO, 175. St. Cyr, iii., 89, 92. 
 
434 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXL 
 
 ■whelming force, on either adversary, ably pre- 
 pared all the triumphs which ell'aced its early 
 disasters. In conformity with these diflerent 
 plans — while Moreau was extending his right 
 wing to tlie foot of the Alps, pressing through the 
 dehles of the Albis and the Black Forest into the 
 valley of the Danube, and Jourdan was slowly 
 advancing up the shores of tlie Alaine towards 
 Bohemia — the archduke regained the right bank 
 of the Neckar, and Wartensleben the left bank of 
 the Maine; movements which, by bringing them 
 into close proximity with each other, rendered 
 mia vailing all the superiority of their enemies. 
 In truth, nothing but tne able direction of the re- 
 treating, and injudicious dispersion of the advan- 
 cing, force could have enabled the Imperialists 
 at all to make head against their enemies; for, in- 
 dependent of the deduction of twenty-eight thou- 
 sand men despatched under Wurmser into Italy, 
 the Auslrians were weakened by thirty thousand 
 men. whom the archduke was obliged to leave in 
 the different garrisons on the Rhine ; so that the 
 force under his immediate command consisted 
 only of forty thousand infantry and eighteen 
 thousand cavalry, while Moreau was at the head 
 of sixty-five thousand of the former force and 
 six thousand of the latter. But the 
 ef th"Hrchiuke admirable plan of operations which 
 to counteract that able general sketched out at 
 it. He retires Piorzheim, " to retreat slowly, and 
 through the disputing everv' inch of ground, 
 Black Forest, ^j^j^qu^ hazarding a general en- 
 gagement, until the two retiring armies were so 
 near, that he could fall with a superior force upon 
 one or other of his adversaries," ultimately ren- 
 dered abortive all this great superiority, and 
 brought back the French forces with disgrace 
 and disaster to the Rhine.* 
 
 Having assembled all his parks of artillery, 
 J ] ., and thrown provisions into the fortress- 
 
 ^ ■ es, which were to be left to their own re- 
 sources during his .short slay at Pforzheim, the 
 1- • «<; V, archduke commenced his retreat, 
 arlh July.' during which his force was still 
 farther weakened by the withdraw- 
 ing of the Saxon and Swabian contingents, 
 amounting to ten thousand men, the government 
 of whose states, alanned by the advance of the 
 Republicans, now hastened" to make their separ- 
 ate submissions to the conquerors. By the 25th 
 of July the Austrian forces were concentrated 
 on the right bank of the Neckar, between Cron- 
 stadt and Esslingen. They were attacked on 
 the following morning by Moreau, with his 
 whole centre and left wing, and after an obsti- 
 nate engagement, both parties remained on the 
 field of battle. Next day the Imperialists retired 
 in two columns, under the archduke and Hotze, 
 through the mountains of Alb, which separate 
 the valley of the Neckar from that of the Dan- 
 ube. The one followed the valley of the Rems 
 and the route of Schorndorf, the other the valley 
 of the Filz. Their united force did not now ex- 
 ceed twenty-five thousand infantrj'and ten thou- 
 sand cavalry. Moreau followed them nearly in 
 a parallel march, and on the 23d debouched into 
 the plains near the sources of the Danube and 
 the upper extremity of the valley of Rems.t 
 
 The archduke took a position at the top of the 
 long ridge of Boeminkirch, with the desiirn of 
 falling upon the heads of the enemy's columns 
 
 * Arch. Ch.,ii., 176, 179. Jom., viii., 282, 2S3. St. Cyr, 
 iil., 93, 100. 
 
 t Jom., viii., 233,241. Archduke Ch., iii., 191, 215. St. 
 Cyr, iii., 105, 113. 
 
 as they issued from the valleys into the plain, 
 and to gain time for the evacuation of the mag- 
 azines of Ulm, and the formidable nature of his 
 position compelled Moreau to halt for several' 
 (lays to concentrate his forces. Six days after- 
 ward he resumed his retreat, which was contin- 
 ued with uncommon firmness, and in the best 
 order, till he reached the Danube, where he pre-- 
 pared to resume the offensive. He there found 
 himself in communication with his lel1; wing, 
 under Froelich, which had retired through the 
 Black Forest, and amounted to fourteen thou- 
 sand infantrj' and four thousand cavalry, while 
 the corresponding wing of the Republicans, under 
 Ferino, approached Moreau, and raised his force 
 to fifty-eight thousand infantry and seven thou- 
 sand horse. He advanced in order of battle to 
 Neresheim, but the left wing, under indecisive ac- 
 Frcelich, did not arrive in time to tiun at Nere- 
 take any part in the action which sheim. 
 there ensued. His design in so doing was to 
 gain time for the evacuation of his magazines at 
 Ulm, and be enabled to continue his retreat with 
 more leisure towards Wartensleben, who was 
 now falling back towards the Naab; but as he 
 gave battle with his rear to the river, he ran the 
 risk of total destruction in case of defeat. By a 
 rapid movement, he succeeded in forcing back 
 and turning the right wing of Moreau, and, 
 pressing forward with his left wing, got into his 
 rear, and caused such an alann that all the- 
 parks of ammunition retreated in haste from the 
 field of battle. But the centre, under 
 St. Cyr, stood firm; and the Austrian ^"°"^' "• 
 force being disseminated into several columns, 
 over a space of ten leagues, the archduke was 
 unable to take advantage from his success so 
 as to gain a decisive victor}\ Meanwhile Mo- 
 reau, nowise intimidated by the defeat of his 
 right wing or the alarm in his rear, strengthened 
 his centre by his reserve, and vigorously re- 
 pulsed all the attacks of the enemy; and at two 
 o'clock in the afternoon the firing ceased at all- 
 points, without any decisive success having been 
 gained by either party, both of whom had to la- 
 ment a loss of three thousand men.* 
 
 On the day following the Imperialists recross- 
 ed the Danube without being disquieted by the 
 enemy, and broke dowm all the bridges over that 
 river as far as Donawerth. Meanwhile Froelich 
 retreated through the Black Forest, followed by 
 Ferino, between whose forces several bloody but 
 indecisive actions took placet But more im- 
 portant events were now approaching, and those 
 decisive strokes about to be struck which saved 
 Germany, and detennined the fate of the cam- 
 paign. 
 
 Jourdan, after having remained a few days at 
 Frankfort, and levied a heavy con- operations of 
 tribution on that flourishing city, jourdan. He 
 prepared to resume his march, in advances mto 
 order to co-operate with Moreau in Fr^iiconia. 
 the advance into the Empire. He commenced 
 his march with forty-seven thousand 
 men up the valley of the Maine, on J;',^ """^ ^^''^ 
 the great road to Wurlzburg, while 
 Wartensleben retired, with a force somewhat in- 
 ferior, through the forest of Spessart to the neigh- 
 bourhood of that town. Wurlzburg soon after 
 surrendered to the invaders, and the latter gen- 
 eral retired successively to Zeil, Bamberg, and 
 Forcheim, when a sharp action ensued between 
 
 * Th., viii., 387. Arch. Ch., ii., 218, 279. Jom., viii., 
 220, 255. St. Cyr, iii., 144, 174. 
 t Jom., viii., 359, 360. Arch. Ch., ii., 281. 
 
179G.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 435 
 
 the cavalry of the two armies, in which 
 Augusts, jj^^ French honuurably resisted a su- 
 perior force. From thence he continued his re- 
 treat towards the Naab; and, alter bloody ac- 
 tions at Neukirchen, yulzbach. and 
 I6[h'.lugJs' Wolfering, in which no decisive 
 success Wets obtained by either par- 
 ty, crossed that river, and put a final period to 
 his retrograde movement on the ISth 
 ug'"i>i • of August. The converging direction 
 of the retiring columns of the Austrian armies 
 might have apprized so experienced an officer as 
 Jourdan of ilie object of the archduke, and the 
 danger which he ran by continuing any farther 
 his advance ; but he did not conceive himself at 
 liberty to deviate from the orders of the Directo- 
 ry; and, instead of interposing between their ap- 
 proaching armies, continued his eccentric move- 
 ment to turn their outermost fiank.* 
 
 The time had now arrived when the archduke 
 deemed it safe to put in practice his long-rnetii- 
 tated movement for the relief of Warteasleben. 
 t 16 ^^ ^^^ middle of August he set out 
 °^"^ ■ from the environs of Neuburg, on tlie 
 Danube, with twenty-eight thousand men, and 
 moved northward towards the Naab, leaving 
 General Latour with thirty-five thousand to 
 make head, during his absence, against Moreau. 
 He arrived on that river ou the 20th, and orders 
 were immediately given for attacking the enemy. 
 The archduke By the junction of the corps under 
 joins Wartens- the archduke with that uiicjer War- 
 leben. tensleben, their united force was 
 
 raised to sixty-three thousand men, while the 
 troops of Jourdan's army opposed to them did not 
 exceed, after the losses it had sustained, above 
 forty-five thousand. Thus this young prince 
 had solved the most difficult and important prob- 
 lem in war, that of accumulating, with forces 
 upon the whole inferior, a decided superiority at 
 the decisive point. + 
 
 Bernadotte, who commanded the advanced 
 guard of Jourdan's army, which had crossed the 
 ridge of hills which forms the northern boundaiy 
 of the valley of the Danube, had taken post at 
 
 Au 22 1'^''°^"n- ^^ '^^''^^ '^'^^'"^ attacked by the 
 "^' ■ archduke, and, after an obstinate resist- 
 ance, driven back into the mountains he had re- 
 cently passed, which separate the valley of the 
 Maine from that of the Danube; while Hotze, 
 who came up towards the close of the action, 
 pursued his discomfited troops to the gates of 
 Neumark. Early on the following morning the 
 Austrians resumed the pursuit, and drove the 
 Republicans from that town, so far back that 
 they found themselves on the flank of 
 Jourdan's army on the Naab, which was 
 no sooner informed of these disasters than it re- 
 tired to Amberg. Leaving Hotze to pursue the 
 remains of Bernadotte's army towards Altdorf, 
 Au^ 24 ^^^ archduke turned with the bulk of 
 ''■ ■ his forces upon Jjurdan; and having put 
 himself in communication with Wartensleben, 
 concerted with him a general attack upon the 
 main body of the Republicans at Amberg. The 
 Austrians, under the archduke, advanced in three 
 columns; and when the soldiers perceived, far 
 distant on the horizon to the northward, the fire 
 AVhoisdefeat- ^^ Wartensleben's lines, the impor- 
 ed at Amberg. ^^^'^'^ of whose co-operation the 
 whole army understood, opening on 
 the enemy's flank, nothing could restrain their 
 impetuosity, and louii shouts announced ihe arri- 
 
 Au?. 23. 
 
 * Arch. Ch.| 
 dan, 50, 89. 
 
 1., 260, 2ti5. Jjm., viii. 
 t Arch. Ch., iii., 2, 23. 
 
 2S3. 301. Jour- 
 Jom., II., 11, 12. 
 
 val of the long-wished-for moment of victory. 
 Tiie French made but a feeble resistance; as- 
 sailed at once in front and flank, they lell back to 
 the plateau in the rear of their position, and owed 
 their safely to the firmness wiili whicli Ney sus- 
 tained the attacks of the enemy with the rear- 
 guard.* 
 
 The situation of Jourdan was now in the high- 
 est degree critical. By this success at D;iii..errus 
 Amberg, the archduke had got upon sit'uauon of 
 his direct road to Nuremburg, through J""'d;iu. 
 which his retreat necessarily lay, and he was in 
 consequence, compelled to lall back through the 
 mountains which separate the Naab from the 
 Maine by crossroads, with all his baggage and 
 parks of artillery. During this critical opera- 
 lion, the firmness and discipline of the French 
 troops alone saved them from the greatest disas- 
 ters. Ney, with the rear-guard, continued to 
 make head against the numerous cavalry of the 
 enemy, and after a painful passage of six days, 
 during which they were pressed with the utmost 
 vigour, and incurred great dangers, they at length 
 extricated themselves from the mountains, and 
 reached Schweinfurt on the Maine, in the deep- 
 est dejection, at the end of August. 
 Hotze passed that river on the 1st of !Sep- ^"P'" ^• 
 tember, and soon after, his advanced guard made 
 itself master of Wurtzburg, while the archduke 
 conducted the bulk of his i'orces to the right bank 
 of the river. Jourdan, deeming an action indis- 
 pensable in order to obtain some respite for his 
 retreating columns, prepared himself for a gen- 
 eral attack on his pursuers, at the same time that 
 the archduke was collecting his forces for an ac- 
 tion on his own part. The courage and vivacity 
 of the Republican soldiers appeared again when 
 they faced the enemy, and they prepared with the 
 utmost alacrity to occupy all the positions which, 
 were deemed necessary before commencing the 
 battle. On the 2d of September both parties were 
 engaged in completing this preparation, and on 
 the third the engagement took placet 
 
 The French army was drawn up on the right 
 bank of the Maine, from Wurtzburg He is agam 
 to Schweinfurt, partly on a series of routed near 
 heights which formed the northern Wurtzlarg. 
 barrier of the valley, and partly on the plains 
 which extended from their foot to the shores of 
 the river. Jourdan imagined that he had only 
 to contend with a part of the Austrian force, and 
 that the archduke had returned in person to make 
 head against the Republicans on the Danube; 
 but instead of that, he had rapidly brought his 
 columns to the right bank, ancf was prepared to 
 combat his antagonist with superior forces. A 
 thick fog, which concealed the armies from each 
 other, favoured the motions of the Imperialists, 
 and when the sun broke through the clouds at 
 eleven o'clock, it glittered on the numerous 
 squadrons of the Austrians, drawn up in double 
 lines on the meadows adjoining the river. The 
 action commenced by Kray attacking the left 
 flank of the French, while Lichtenstein spread 
 himself out in the plain, followed by Wartens- 
 leben, who threw himself, at the head of the cav- 
 alry, into the river, and followed close after the 
 infantry, who had defiled along the bridge. The 
 French general, Greuier, who was stationed at 
 the menaced point, made a vigorous resistance 
 with the Republican cavalry and light infantry; 
 
 * Arch. Ch., li., 26, 43. 
 110. 
 
 t Th., Tiii., 390, 408. Arch. Ch., iii., 43, 106. 
 130, 146. Ney, i., 20S, 239. Jom., ix., 19. 
 
 Jom., ix., 16, 17. Jourdaii, 90, 
 Jourdan, 
 
436 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXI. 
 
 but the reserve of the Austrian cuirassiers hav- 
 ing been brought up, Jourdan was obliged to sup- 
 port tlie line by his reserve of cavalry ; and a 
 desperate charge of horse took place, in which 
 the Imperialists were at first repulsed, but the re- 
 serve of the Austrian cuirassiers having assail- 
 ed the Republican squadrons when disordered 
 by success, they were broken, thrown into con- 
 fusion, and driven behind the lines of their in- 
 fantry. Meanwhile the grenadiers of Wemeck, 
 united to the corps under Starray, routed the 
 French centre, and Kray drove the divisions of 
 Grenier entirely off the field into the wood of 
 Grarachatz. Victory declared for the Imperial- 
 ists at all points ; and Jourdan esteemed himself 
 fortunate in being able to reach the forests which 
 stretched from Gramchatz to Arnheim, without 
 being broken by the redoubtable Austrian squad- 
 rons.* 
 
 Such was the battle of Wurtzburg, which de- 
 
 liVered Germany and determined the 
 ^ftSs^to'y. fate Of the campaign. The trophies 
 
 of the victors were bj' no means com- 
 mensurate to these momentous results, amount- 
 ing only to seven pieces of cannon and a few 
 prisoners. But it produced a most important ef- 
 fect upon the spirit of the two amiies, elevating 
 the imperial as much as it depressed the Repub- 
 lican threes, and procuring for the archduke the 
 possession of the direct line of communication 
 from the Maine to the Rhine. Disastrous as it 
 ■was in its con.sequences, the battle itself was 
 highly honourable to the defeated army ; for they 
 had to contend, with thirty thousand men of all 
 arms, against thirty-one thousand infantry and 
 thirteen thousand splendid cavalry.t 
 
 After this disaster, Jourdan had no alternative 
 but to retire behind the Lahn, a position in which 
 he might rally round his standards the force un- 
 der Marceau, which blockaded Mayence, and 
 the re-enforcements which were expected from 
 Continued and ^he north. In doing this, however, 
 disastrous le- he was Obliged to retreat through 
 treat of Jour- the mountains of Fulda, the roads 
 '^*''- of which are as bad as the country 
 
 is rugged and inhospitable. At the same time, 
 Marceau received orders to raise the blockade of 
 Mayence, and make all haste to join the Repub- 
 lican commander-in-chief behind the Lahn. 
 The archduke, nothing intimidated by the men- 
 acing advance of Moreau into Bavaria, wisely 
 resolved to pursue his beaten enemy to the Rhine ; 
 but, instead of following him through the defiles 
 of the mountains, where a resolute rear-guard 
 might have arrested an army, he determined to 
 advance straight to the Lahn by the great road 
 to AschatTenburg. The losses sustained by the 
 Republicans in their retreat were very great. 
 The citadel of Wurtzburg soon surrendered with 
 eight hundred men ; 123 pieces of cannon, taken 
 by them during their advance, were abandoned 
 at Schweinfurt; sixty pieces, and an immense 
 quantity of ammunition, at Freudenberg ; and 
 eighty-three pieces at Hushing. The peasants, 
 supported by the Austrian light troops, who were 
 detached in pursuit of the enemy, fell upon the 
 flanks and rear of the retreating anny, and cut 
 off vast numbers of the stragglers who issued 
 from their ranks.ll 
 
 * Jom.. ijc., 36. Arch. Ch.,iii., 99, 116. Th., viii., 409, 
 410. Jourdan, 160, 1T2. Ney, i.. 216. 
 
 t Arch. Ch., iii., 116. 117. Jom., ix., 36,37. 
 
 t Arrh. Ch., lii., 128, 130. Hard., iii., 467,- 468. Jom., 
 ii., 37. 38. Jimvdan, 187. 
 
 6 The French themselves admit that it was the hatred 
 
 The Republicans reached the Lahn in the 
 most disorganized and miserable state on the Dth 
 of September, and four days afterward they were 
 joined by the blockading force from Mayence, 
 under Marceau, fifteen thousand strong, and a 
 division of ten thousand from the army of the 
 north, which in some degree restored the balance 
 of the two armies. The young prince, having 
 concentrated his forces at Aschafien- ,g,. g 
 burg, resolved to attack them in this "'' ' 
 
 position, and drive them behind the Rhine. The 
 action took place on the I6th. The * , , j^ 
 Austrians advanced in three columns, j^ defeats 
 amounting to thirty-eight thousand them, and 
 infantry and twelve thousand caval- drives them 
 rv, havins: received some re-enforce- J.'V'''*^ '^** 
 ments from the garrison ot Mayence. 
 Under cover of a powerful fire of artillery, they 
 forced the bridges of the Lahn after an obstinate 
 engagement, made themselves masters of Lim- 
 burg and Dielz, notwithstanding the utmost ef- 
 forts of heroism on the part of General Marceau, 
 and defeated the enemy at all points. During 
 the night, the Republicans beat a retreat, under 
 cover of a thick log, which long concealed their 
 movements from the Imperialists ; and when it 
 cleared away on the following morning, they 
 found all their positions abandoned. The pur- 
 suit was continued with the utmo.st vigour du- 
 ring the two following days, and on the 19th a 
 serious engagement took place with ihe rear- 
 guard at Altenkirchen, where General Marceau 
 was severely wounded, and fell into the hands 
 of the Imperialists. The archduke, who admi- 
 red his great military qualities, paid him the 
 most unremitting attention, but in spite of all his 
 cai'e, he died a few days after, and was buried 
 with military honours amid the tears of his gen- 
 erous enemies.* 
 
 Such w^as the demoralized and disjointed state 
 of the Republican army, that, notwithstanding 
 the great re-enforcements which they had re- 
 ceived, they were totally unable to make head 
 against the enemy. They re-crossed gothScpt 
 the Rhine on the 20th, at Bonn and Neu- 
 wied, and were reduced to a state of total inac- 
 tivity for the remainder of the campaign, having 
 lost not less than twenty thousand men since 
 they left the frontiers of Bohemia, by the sword, 
 sickness, and desertion.t 
 
 While the Austrian prince was pursuing this 
 splendid career of victory on the severe strug- 
 banks of the Maine, the corps left gie of Latour 
 under the command of Latour to ^^'th Moreau 
 oppose Moreau, which did not ex- on the Danube- 
 ceed thirty- four thousand men of every arm, even 
 including the detachment of Froelich, was sus- 
 taining an unequal conflict on the banks of the 
 DanulDe. Had the French general, the moment 
 that he received intelligence of the departure of 
 the archduke, followed him with the bulk of his 
 forces, the Imperialists, placed between two fires, 
 would have been exposed to imminent danger, 
 and the very catastrophe which they were most 
 anxious to avert, viz., the junction of the Repub- 
 
 inspired by their exactions which occasioned this popular 
 exasperation ajainst them. "The animosity of the Ger- 
 mans," said Carnot, in his confidential letter announcing 
 these disasters to Napoleon, " and the unhappy consequen- 
 ces which have flowed from it, are a fresh and painful warn- 
 ing to us how speedily the relaxation of discipline liecomes 
 fatal to an armv."*— Letter Confid. of the 20th of September. 
 
 * Jom., ix., 40, 166. Th , viii.,4i0. Arch., Ch., iii., 149, 
 173. Jourdan, 189, 210. Noy, i.. 228, 229. 
 
 t Joni.,ix.,45. Ar. Ch., Ill , 178, 180. Jourdan, 212, 220. 
 
 CoDiid. Corresp., iii., 147. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 437 
 
 lican armies in the centre of Germany, been ren- 
 dered inevitable. Fortunately lor the Austrian.s, 
 instead of adopting so decisive a course, he re- 
 solved to advance into Bavaria, hoping thereby 
 to effect a diversion in favour of his colleague : 
 a fatal resolution, which, though in some degree 
 justilied by the order of the Directory to detach 
 fifteen thousand men at the same time into the 
 Tyrol, utterly ruined the campaign, by increas- 
 ing the great distance which already separated 
 the Republican armies. After remaining sever- 
 al days in a state of inactivity, he collected an 
 imposing body, fifty-three thousand men, on the 
 24th A ' banks of the Lech, and forced the fords 
 ^' of that river on the very day of the bat- 
 tle of Amberg. Latour, who had extended his 
 small army too much, in his anxiety to cover a 
 26th -v &i'6'it extent of country, found his rear- 
 * "^' guard assailed at Friedberg, and defeat- 
 ed, with the loss of seventeen hundred men and 
 fouiteen pieces of cannon. After this disaster 
 he retreated behind the Iser, in the direction of 
 Landshut ; his centre fell back to the neighbour- 
 hood of Munich, while the left wing stretched to 
 the foot of the mountains of Tyrol. Moreau 
 continued for three weeks occupied in inconsid- 
 erable movements in Bavaria, during which a 
 severe combat took place at Langenberg, be- 
 tween four thousand Austrian horse and De- 
 saix's division, in which, after the French troops 
 had been at first broken, they ultimately suc- 
 ceeded, by heroic efforts, in repulsing the enemy. 
 The archduke was nothing moved by these dis- 
 asters, but resolutely continued his pursuit of 
 Jourdan. "Let Moreau advance to Vienna," 
 said he, on parting with Latour; " it is of no mo- 
 ment, provided 1 beat Jourdan." Memorable 
 words ! indicating at once the firmness of a great 
 man, and the just eye of a consummate general.* 
 This resolute conduct had the desired effect. 
 13th Sept -^^'^^ '^s battle of Wurtzburg, the arch- 
 duke detached Murferd with a small 
 division to join the garrison of Manheim, and 
 Archduke Combine an attack on the ttte-du-pont 
 threatens at Kehl. The French were driven 
 his retreat into the works, which were assaulted 
 at Keiil. .^yjfjj great bravery by the Imperialists ; 
 and though the attack was repulsed, it spread 
 great consternation through the French army, 
 who saw how nearly they had lost their prin- 
 cipal communication with their own country. 
 Moreau, who began to be apprehensive that he 
 might be involved in disaster if he advanced far- 
 ther into Germany, proceeded with great circum- 
 24th Sent H""^ction, and arrived on the Iser on the 
 24th of September. Being there in- 
 fonued of the disasters of Jourdan, and that a 
 part of Latour's corps, under Nauendorf, was 
 advancing rapidly upon Ulm to turn his left 
 flank, he halted his army, and next day began 
 his retreat.t 
 
 Moreau's situation was now in the highest 
 Moreau re- degree critical. Advanced into the 
 solves tu re- heart of Bavaria, with the defiles of the 
 treat. Black Forest in his rear, at the di.s- 
 
 tance of 200 miles from the Rhine, with Latour, 
 with forty thousand men, pressing the one Hank, 
 and the archdulce and Nauendorf, with twenty- 
 five thousand, ready to fall on the other, he might 
 anticipate even greater disasters than Jourdan 
 before he regained the frontiers of the Republic. 
 
 * .rniii., iv., 63, 65. Arch. Ch., iii., 186, 208. St. Cvr. 
 
 iii., 22-2, 258. •' ' 
 
 t Ai(h., Ch., iii., 52, 59. Jom., ix., 50, 56. St. Cvr. 
 
 ui., 188, 222. ' ' 
 
 I But, on the other hand, he was at the head of a 
 superb army of seventy thousand men, whose 
 courage had not been weakened by any disaster 
 and who pos.se.ssed the most unlimited confidence 
 both in their own strength and the resources of 
 their commander. There was no force in Ger- 
 many capable of arresting so great a mass. It 
 is not with detached columns or by menacing 
 communications that the retreat of such a body 
 is to be prevented.*- 
 
 Fully appreciating these great advantages, and 
 aware that nothing is so likely to ^, , , 
 produce disaster in a retreat as any inthemostfi^rm 
 symptoms ol apprehension of it in ami methodical 
 the general, he resolved to continue maimer, 
 his retrograde movements with the utmost reg- 
 ularity, and to dispute every inch of ground with 
 the enemy when they threatened to press upon 
 his forces. The Austrian armies likely to as- 
 sail him were as follows; Nauendorf, with 9500 
 men, was on the Danube, ready to turn his left 
 dank; Latour, with 24,000, in Bavaria, directly 
 in his rear ; Fradich, with 14,000, on the Upper 
 Iller and in Tyrol; while the archduke, with 
 1G,000 or 18,000, might be expected to abandon 
 the Lahn, and hasten to the scene of dei-'sive op- 
 erations on the Upper Rhine. It was by main- 
 taining a firm front, and keeping his forces to- 
 gether in masses, that the junction or co-opera- 
 tion of these considerable forces would alone be 
 prevented.t 
 
 Aware that the archduke might probably block 
 up the line of retreat by the Neckar, Moreau re- 
 tired by the valley of the Danube and the Black 
 Forest. Resting one of his wings on that stream, 
 he sent forward his parks, his baggage, and his 
 ammunition, before the army, and covering his 
 retreat by a powerful rear-guard, succeeded both 
 in repulsing all the attacks of the enemy, and in 
 enabling the body of his army to continue their 
 march without tatigue or interruption. Want 
 of concert in the Austrian generals at first emi- 
 nently favoured his movements. Having retired 
 behind the Lake of Federsee, he found that Latour 
 was isolated from Nauendorf, who was consid- 
 erably in advance on the Danube, and the oppor- 
 tunity therefore appeared favourable for striking 
 with superior forces a blow upon his weakened 
 adversary. This was the more necessary, as he 
 was approaching the entrance of the defiles of the 
 Black Forest, which were occupied by the ene- 
 my, and it was of the last importance that his 
 movement should not be impeded in traversing 
 those long and diliicult passages. Turning, 
 therefore, fiercely upon his pursu- Oct. 2. And 
 ers, he assailed Latour near Biber- defeats Latour 
 ach. The Austrian general, believ- ^' Biberach. , 
 ing that a part only of the enemy's force was in 
 the front, gave battle in a strong position, exten ' 
 ing along a series of wooded heights, lined by i> 
 formidable artille^5^ The action was for a long 
 time fiercely contested, but at length the superior 
 forces and able manoeuvres of the Republicans 
 prevailed. J Desaix broke their right, M'hile St. 
 Cyr turned their left, and a complete victory 
 crowned the efforts of the French, which cost the 
 Austrians four thousand prisoners and eighteen 
 pieces of cannon. 
 
 After this decisive blow, Moreau proceeded 
 leisurely towards the Black Forest, directing his 
 
 * Th., viii., 412. 
 
 t Jom., ii., 65. St. Cyr, iii., 240, 258. Arch. Ch., iii., 
 213 242. 
 
 ;'jom., ix., 71. Arch. Ch., iii., 216, 230. Th., viii., 414. 
 St. Cyr, ill., 259, 310. 
 
438 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXI. 
 
 Retires lei- ^'^P^ towards the Valley of Hell, in 
 surely through hopes of being able to debouch by 
 the Black For- Fribuig, before the archduke arri- 
 *•'*'■ ved to interrupt his progress. He 
 
 had already passed the separation of the road by 
 the Neckar, and Nauendorf occupied that which 
 passes by the Valley of Kinzig. He therefore 
 directed his centre towards the entrance of the 
 Valley of Hell, under the command of St. Cyr, 
 while he stationed Desaix and Ferino on the right 
 and left, to protect the motions of the principal 
 body. The Austrian detachments in the mount- 
 ains were too weak to oppose any effectual re- 
 sistance to the passage of the French army. St. 
 Cyr speedily dissipated the clouds of light troops 
 which infested the pine-clad mountains of the 
 Valley of Hell, and Latour, rendered cautious 
 by disaster, without attempting to harass his re- 
 treat, moved by Homberg to unite himself to the 
 archduke. So ably were the measures of the 
 o 15 ^'"^'^'^^ general concerted, that he not 
 only passed the defiles without either 
 confusion or loss, but debouched into the valley 
 of the Rhine rather in the attitude of a conqueror 
 than that of a fugitive.* 
 
 Meanwhile the Archduke Charles being now 
 assured of the direction which Moreau had taken, 
 directed Latour and the detached parties to join 
 him by the valley of Kinzig, while Nauendorf 
 covered their movements by advancing between 
 them and the French columns. The greater part 
 _ of the Austrian forces were thus col- 
 
 lected in the valley of the Rhine in the 
 middle of October, and though still inferior to the 
 enemy, he resolved to lo.se no time in attacking, 
 and compelling them to recross that river. Mo- 
 Battle of Em- '"'^^U) on his part, was not le.ss de- 
 meu'iingen be- sirous of the combat, as he intended 
 tween Moreau to advance to Kehl, and either main- 
 duke**"^ ^"^'^' tain himself at the /ei;e-fj'M-;)o?inhere, 
 or cross leisurely over to Strasburg. 
 The action took place at Emraendingen, on the 
 slopes where the mountains melt into the plain, 
 and afforded an example of the truth of the mili- 
 tary principle, that in tactics, or the operations 
 of actual combat, the possession of the mount- 
 ains in general secures that of the valleys which 
 lie at their feet. Waldkirch was felt by both par- 
 ties to be the decisive point, from the command 
 which it gave over the neighbouring valleys, and, 
 accordingly, each general strove to reach it be- 
 fore his adversary; but the French, having the 
 advantage of better roads, were the first to ar- 
 Oct 19 ^'^'^' They were there attacked, how- 
 ever, by Nauendorf, who descended from 
 the heights of the Black Forest, and after a bloody 
 action, drove St. Cyr, who commanded the Re- 
 publicans, out of the town with severe loss. 
 Meanwhile the success of the Austrians was 
 not less decisive at other points; the Austrian 
 columns having at length surmounted the diffi- 
 culties of the roads, attacked and carried the vil- 
 lage of Matterdingen, while their centre drove 
 them back from Emraendingen, and at length 
 Moreau, defeated at all points, retired into the 
 forest of Nemburg, behind the Elz, with the loss 
 of two thousand raen.t 
 
 The archduke made preparations on the fol- 
 20ih Oct. lowing morning for re-establishing the 
 Retreat of bridges Over the Elz, and renewing the 
 Moreau. combat; hut Moreau retreated in the 
 night, and commenced the passage of the Rhine. 
 
 * Arch. Ch., ill .240. Jom.,ix..74. St. Cyr. iii., 311, 333. 
 ■t St. Cyr, iv., 10, 26. Arch. Ch., iii., 243, 260. Jom., ix., 
 78, 80. 
 
 Desaix pa.ssed that river at Old Brisach, while 
 the general-in-chief took post in the strong posi- 
 tion of Schliengen, determined to accept battle, 
 in order to gain time to defile in tranquillity by 
 the bridge of Huningen. The valley of the 
 Rhine is there cut at right angles by a barrier of 
 rocky eminences, which stretches from the mount- 
 ains of Hohenblau to the margin of the stream. 
 It was on this formidable rampart jj^^ ,^^ ^^^ , 
 that Moreau made his last stand, at Hohenblau ■ 
 his lell resting on the Rhine, his but is driven ' 
 centre on a pile of almost inaccessi- across the 
 ble rocks, his right on the cliffs of ^*"°^- 
 Sizenkirch. The archduke divided his anny into 
 four columns. The Prince of Conde, on the right, 
 drove in the Republican advanced posts, but 
 made no serious impression ; but Latour in the 
 centre, and Nauendorf on the left, gallantly 
 scaled the precipices, drove the Republican.s 
 from their positions, and chasing them from 
 height to height, from wood to wood, threw them, 
 before nightfall, into such confusion, that nothing 
 but the broken nature of the ground, which pre- 
 vented cavalry from acting, and a violent storm 
 which arose in the evening, saved them from a 
 complete overthrow. Moreau retreated during 
 the night, and on the following day commenced 
 the passage of the Rhine, which was eflected 
 without molestation from the Imperialists.* 
 
 Alter having thus effected the deliverance of 
 Germany from both its invaders, the archduke 
 proposed to the Aulic Council to detach a power- 
 ful re-enforcement by the Tyrol into Italy, in 
 order to strengthen the army of Alvinzi, and. 
 effect the liberation of Wurmser in Mantua: a 
 measure based on true militaiy principles, and 
 which, if adopted by the imperial government, 
 would probably have changed the fate of the 
 campaign. Moreau, on his side, pro- Austrians re- 
 posed an armistice to the Austrians, fuse anaruii- 
 on condition that the Rhine should stice oa the 
 separate the two armies, and the Re- I^*^'"^^- 
 publicans retain the tttes-du-pcmt of Huningen 
 and Kehl : a proposal which the archduke re- 
 ceived with secret satisfaction, as it promised him 
 the means of securely carrying into effect his 
 meditated designs for the deliverance of Italy. 
 But the Austrian government, intent upon the 
 expulsion of the French from Germany, and 
 deeming the forces put at the disposal of Alvinzi 
 adequate for the relief of Mantua, declined both 
 propositions, and sent positive orders for the im- 
 mediate attack of the fortified posts possessed by 
 the Republicans on the right bank of the Rhine.t 
 
 The conduct of the siege of Kehl, during the 
 depth of winter, and with an open j^o^o ^nd 
 communication between the besieged bhxidy siege 
 and the great army on the opposite of Kehl. 
 bank, presented obstacles of no ordinary kind; 
 but the perseverance and energy of the Austrians 
 ultimately triumphed over all obstacles. Thirty 
 thousand men, under the command of Desaix 
 and St. Cyr, were destined for the defence of the 
 works, while a powerful resen'e was stationed 
 in the islands of the Rhine ; and the troops en- 
 gaged in the defence were changed ever)' three 
 days, to prevent their being overwhelmed with 
 the fatigues of the service. Forty thousand Aus- 
 trians, under Latour, formed the besieging force, 
 while the remainder of the army was cantoned 
 in the valley of the Rhine. Though the fort was 
 invested on the 9th of October, no material prog- 
 
 * Jom., ii., 84, 89. Arch. Ch., iii., 272. 280. St. C>t, 
 iv., 27, 40. t Arch. Ch., ii., 290. Jom., ix., 238. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 439 
 
 ress was made in the siege, from the extreme 
 ditiicully of bringing up the battering train and 
 heavy stores, till the end of November. This 
 long delay gave lime to the indefatigable Desaix 
 to complete the works, which, when the Imperial- 
 ists first sat down before the place, were in a very 
 uniinished state. The trendies were opened on 
 the 21st of November; and about the 
 same time a grand sortie was attempted, 
 under the command of Moreau in person, to 
 destroy the works, and gain possession of the 
 Austrian park of artillery. Tnis attack was at 
 first successful : the Republicans carried the in- 
 trenchments of Sundheim, and had nearly pene- 
 trated to the magazines and parks ; but the arch- 
 duke and Latour having come up with re-en- 
 forcements to tlie menaced point, they were at 
 length repulsed, with severe loss, carrying with 
 them nine pieces of cannon, which they had 
 captured during the aflray. Moreau and Desaix 
 exposed themselves to the hottest of the fire, and 
 were both slightly wounded. After this repulse, 
 the labours of the siege were continued without 
 any other interruption than that arising from the 
 excessive severity of the weather, and the tor- 
 rents of rain which, for weeks together, filled the 
 trenches with water. On the night of January 
 1, the Imperialists carried by assault the first line 
 of intrenchments round the Republican camp, 
 and a few days afterward the second line was 
 also stormed, after a bloody resistance. Kehl was 
 now no longer defensible ; above 100,000 cannon- 
 balls and 25,000 bombs, projected from forty 
 batteries, had riddled all its defences. The Im- 
 perialists, masters of the intrenched camp, en- 
 veloped the fort on every side; and the Republi- 
 cans, after a glorious defence, which does hon- 
 our to the memory of Desaix and St. Cyr, evacu- 
 ated t!ie place by capitulation on the 9th of Jan- 
 
 ■ uary.* 
 
 During the siege of Kehl, the Imperialists re- 
 Fall of the t«£- mained in observation before the 
 
 . <iu-po?u at Hun- itie-dv^pont of Huningen ; but no 
 ^"sen- sooner were they at liberty, by the 
 
 surrender of the former place, than they prose- 
 cuted the siege of the latter with extraordinaiy 
 vigour. Ferino had been left with the right wing 
 of the French to superintend the defence of that 
 important post, but, notwithstanding all his exer- 
 tions, he was unable to retard their advances ; 
 the trenches were opened in form on the 25th of 
 January, and a sortie having been repulsed on 
 the night of the 31st, the place was evacuated by 
 capitulation on the 1st of February, and the vic- 
 tors found themselves masters only of a heap of 
 ruins.t 
 
 This last success terminated the campaign of 
 Reflections ^''^^ ^^ Germany ; the most remark- 
 on this cam- able, in a military point of view, which 
 paign. had occurred, with the exception of 
 
 that of Napoleon in the same year in Italy, since 
 the commencement of the war. The conquerors 
 in both triumphed, by the application of the same 
 principles, over superior forces, viz., the skil- 
 ful use of a central position and interior line of 
 communication, and the rapid accumulation of 
 superior forces against one of the assailing ar- 
 mies, at a time when it was so situated that it 
 could not receive any assistance from the other. 
 The movements of the archduke between the ar- 
 amies of Moreau and Jourdan, and the .skill with 
 
 I which, by bringing a preponderating force against 
 the decisive point, iie comjielied their vast ar- 
 , mies to undertake a disastrous retreat, are pre- 
 ; cfsely parallel to the blows .struck by iVapoleon 
 : from the interior line of the Adige on the con- 
 I verging forces of Cluasdanovich and Wurmser 
 i on the opposite sides of the Lake of Guarda, and 
 j of Alvinzi and Provera on the plateau of Ilivoli 
 I and the shores of the Mincio. The difference 
 I only lies in the superior energy and activity with 
 which the Republican general flew from one 
 menaced point to another, the accurate calcula- 
 tion of time on which he rested, and the greater 
 difficulties with which he had to struggle from 
 the closer proximity of the attacking lorces to 
 each other. 
 
 The results of this campaign proved the jus- 
 tice of the observation of Napoleon, that the de- 
 cisive blows were to be struck against Austria 
 in the valley of the Danube; and that Carnol's 
 plan of turning both flanks of the Imperialists at 
 once, along the vast line from the Maine to the 
 Alps, was essentially defective, and offered the 
 fairest opportunity to an enterprising general, 
 aware of the importance of time and rapid move- 
 ment in war, to fall with a preponderating force 
 first on the one and then on the other. If, in- 
 stead of dispersing the invading host into two 
 armies, separated from each other by above 100 
 miles, and acting without concert, he had united 
 them into one mass, or moved them, by conver- 
 ging lines, towards Uhn, the catastrophe of 1805 
 to Austria, at that place, or of Leipsic, in 1813, 
 to France, might have been anticipated with de- 
 cisive elTect upon the issue of the war. And, 
 after giving all due praise to the just views and 
 intrepid conduct of the Austrian hero, the deliv- 
 erer of Germany, it must be admitted that he did 
 not carry his enlightened principles into practice 
 with such vigour as might have been done ; and 
 that, had Napoleon been in his place on the iVIurg 
 and at Amberg, he would have struck as deci- 
 sive blows as at Rivoli and Castiglione.* 
 
 The unsuccessful irruption of the French into 
 Germany was attended with one im- p^dimous 
 portant consequence, from the effec- contributions 
 tual manner in which it withdrew the levied by the 
 veil from the eyes of the lower class- Republicans 
 es as to the real nature of Democrat- "' ^'"''"''"y- 
 ic ambition, and the consequences with which 
 it was attended to the inhabitants of the van- 
 quished states. The Republicans being destitute 
 of everj'thing, and in an especial manner denu- 
 ded of money when they crossed the Rhine, im- 
 mediately put in practice their established princi- 
 ple of making war support war, and oppressed 
 the vanquished people by the most enormous 
 contributions. The lesser German states only 
 purchased neutrality by the rao.st enonnous sac- 
 rifices.t The people contra.sted these Disgust which 
 cruel exactions with the seductive it excited in 
 promises of war to the palace and Germany, 
 peace to the cottage, and all learned at length, 
 
 * .Tom.. i.t., 215, 243. Arch. Ch., lii., 298, 310. St. Cyr, 
 jv., 86, 101, 120. 
 
 t .lom., LT., 221. Arch. Ch., iii., 315, 323. St. Cyr, iv., 
 
 vn, 138. 
 
 * Nap., ill., 314, 339. Th., viii., 419. Arch. Ch., iii., 
 313. 314. 
 
 t The Uuke of Wirtembuvg was assessed at 4,000.000 
 francs, or nearly £200.000 sterlin?; the circle of Swabia, 
 12,000,000. or nearly XfiOO.OOO. besides 8000 hoi-ses, 5000 
 o-xen, 150,000 quintals of corn, and 100,000 jiairs of shoes. 
 No less than 8,000,000, or X-IOO.OOO, was demanded from tho 
 circle of Franconia. besides 6000 lioi-ses ; and immense con- 
 tnbutions from Frankfort, Wurtzburg, Bamlierg-, Nurem- 
 bur», and all the towns through which they passed. These 
 enonnous exactions, which amounted in ail t> 2.').000.000 
 francs (£1,000,000). 1 2.000 horses, 12.000 oxon, 500 000 quin- 
 tals of wheat, and 200,000 pairs of shoes, excited a univer- 
 sal alarm. 
 
440 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXI. 
 
 from bitter experience, the melancholy truth, 
 that military violence, under whatever names it 
 may be veiled, is the same in all ages, and that 
 none are such inexorable tyrants to the poor as 
 those who have recently revolted against au- 
 thority in their own countr}^ Although, there- 
 fore, the terror of the Republican arms at first 
 superseded every other consideration, and de- 
 tached all the states whose territory had been 
 overrun from the Austrian alliance, yet this was 
 merely the eflect of necessity ; the hearts of the 
 people remained faithful to the cause of Germa- 
 ny, their exasperation broke out in unmeasured 
 acts of violence against the retreating forces of 
 Jourdan, and they looked only for the first op- 
 portunity to resume their ancient attachment to 
 the imperial standards.* 
 
 The same causes which thus weakened the pre- 
 
 Noble and pa- 
 
 dilection of the lower orders in Ger- 
 
 triotic spirit of many for French principles, opera- 
 the Austiiau ted most powerfully in rousing the 
 people. ancient and hereditary loyalty of the 
 
 Austrian people to their owTi sovereigns. When 
 the Republ»:?ans approached Bohemia, and had 
 wellnigh penetrated through Bavaria to the he- 
 reditary states, the emperor issued an animating 
 appeal to his subjects in the threatened provinces, 
 and, with the .spirit of Maria Theresa, called on 
 them to repel the renew^ed Gallic aggression. 
 Austria, in this trying emergency, relied on the 
 constant success which has so long attended its 
 house through all the vicissitudes of fortune, 
 and, unsubdued by defeat, maintained that un- 
 conquerable spirit which has always character- 
 ized its race, and so often is found to triumph 
 over the greatest reverses. The people nobly 
 answered the appeal. The peasants flew to arms ; 
 new levies were speedily raised ; contributions 
 of stores of ever}- kind were voted by the nobili- 
 ty ;t and from the first invasion of France may 
 be dated the growth of that patriotic spirit which 
 •was destined ultimately to rescue Germany from 
 foreign subjugation. 
 
 This )'ear witnessed the still closer contract- 
 New conven- ing of the unhappy bands which uni- 
 tion between ted Prussia to i''rance, and so long 
 France and perpetuated on the Continent the 
 Prussia. overwhelming influence of Gallic 
 
 power. Hardenberg and Haugwitz, who di- 
 rected the cabinet of Berlin, and who, notwith- 
 standing their differences on many other points, 
 were cordially united in all measures calculated 
 to augment the influence of Prussia in the north 
 of Germany, had laboured assiduously all the 
 summer to form a federal union for the pro- 
 tection of the .states in that portion of the Em- 
 pire, and they had .succeeded in obtaining a 
 convocation of the circle of Lower Saxony and 
 of Westphalia on the 20th of June, to arrange 
 the formation of a formidable army of observa- 
 tion, of which Pnissia was the head, to cause 
 their neutrality to be respected by the belligerent 
 powers. The French minister at Berlin, artful- 
 ly improving upon the terrors produced by Isa- 
 poleon's successes in Italy and Jourdan's irrup- 
 tion into Franconia, easily persuaded Haugwitz 
 that the period had now arrived when the inter- 
 ests of Prussia indispensably required the break- 
 ing up of the old Germanic Empire, and the rec- 
 ognition of the left bank of the Rhine to France; 
 and, in consequence, two conventions, one pub- 
 lic, the other secret, were signed at Berlin 
 ^"^- on the 5th of August. By the finst, which 
 
 * Ann. Re?., 1796, 135, 143. Hard., iii., 393. 
 t Ann., Reg. 1796, 134, 135. 
 
 alone at that time was published, the line of de- 
 marcation, beyond which hostilities were not to 
 pass, was extended, and made to run from We- 
 sel on the Rhine, following the frontiers of the 
 mountains of Thuringia, extending along the 
 North Sea, including the mouths of the Elbe, the 
 Weser, and the Ems, and so round by the Iron- 
 tiers of Holland to Wesel again. Beyond this, 
 in addition to the line already agreed to by the 
 treaty of Bale, the Directory agreed not to push 
 their military operations. JBy the second, which 
 was kept secret, Prussia recognised the exten- 
 sion of France to the Rhine, and the principle 
 that the dispossessed German princes were to be 
 indemnified at the expense of the ecclesiastical 
 princes of the Empire. The third article provi- 
 ded an indemnity to the Prince of Orange, now 
 evidently and apparently finally expelled from 
 his dominions ; and Prussia engaged to endeav- 
 our for this purpose to procure the seculariza- 
 tion of the bishoprics of Bamberg and Wurtz- 
 hurg. " Such was the secret convention," says 
 Hardenberg, " which in a manner put the cab- 
 inet of Berlin at the mercy of France in the 
 atiairs of Germany."* It may be added, such 
 was the commencement of that atrocious system 
 of indemnifying the greater powers at the ex- 
 pense of the lesser, and providing for the rapa- 
 city of temporal powers by the sacrifice of the 
 Church, which soon after not only shook to its 
 foundation the Constitution of the Germanic 
 Empire, but totally overturned the whole balance 
 of power and system of public rights in Europe. 
 
 While these important transactions M'ere in 
 progress in the heart of Europe, events of anoth- 
 er kind, but not less important in their future ef- 
 fects upon the fate of the war, were preparing 
 upon another element. ' 
 
 Three years of continued success had render- 
 ed the British flag omnipotent upon uaval opera- 
 the ocean. Britannia literally ruled tions of the 
 the waves; the French colonies sue- y^""- 
 cessively fell beneath her strokes; and her fleets,, 
 blockaded in their harbours, were equally una- 
 ble to protect the commerce of the Republic, or 
 acquire the experience requisite for maritime 
 success. The minister of the marine, Truguet, 
 in proposing a new system for the regulation of 
 the navy, gave a gloomy but faithful picture ot 
 its present condition. " The deplora- peplorable 
 ble state of our marine," said he, " is state of the 
 well known to our enemies, who in- French ma- 
 sult us in our very harbours. Our ""^• 
 fleets are humiliated, defeated, blockaded in their 
 ports, destitute of provisions and naval equip- 
 ments, torn by internal faction, weakened by 
 ignorance, ruined by desertion : such is the state 
 in which the men to whom you have intrusted 
 its direction have found the French marine."t 
 
 The ruin of the French mvy was not the con- 
 sequence merely of the superior skill and expe- 
 rience of the English sailors; it arose necessari- 
 ly from the confusion of finances, loss of colo- 
 liies, and failure of resources, which was the 
 result of the Revolutionary convulsion. Fleets 
 cannot be equipped without naval stores, nor 
 navigated but by a body of experienced seamen ; 
 it is impossible, therefore, to become a powerful 
 maritime state without a regular revenue and an 
 extensive commerce, both of which had disap- 
 peared during the distractions of the Revolution. 
 Severe internal distress, by filling the ranks of 
 the army, may form a formidable military pow- 
 
 Hard., iii., 374, 304, 398. 
 
 t Jom.,)x., 225. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 441 
 
 er, and destitute battalions may issue from a 
 revolutionary furnace to plunder and oppress 
 the adjoining states; but a similar system will 
 never equip a fleet, nor enable a revolutionary 
 to contend with a regular government on the 
 ocean. From the very elements by which the 
 contest was carried on, it was already evident 
 that, though France might defeat the land-forces 
 of Europe, England would acquire the dominion 
 of the waves. 
 
 The hostilities carried on by the naval and 
 J. military forces of Great Britain in 
 thT'^EngfisIi the West and East Indies were at- 
 in the West tended with the most decisive suc- 
 and East In- cess. The island of Grenada, which 
 '^"^^' had long been in a state of revolt, 
 
 yielded to the perseverance and ability of Gener- 
 al NicoLs : St. Lucie was reduced in May by 
 General Abercromby, and Essequibo and Deme- 
 rara by General White, while the French could 
 only set oil against these losses the destruction 
 of the merchandise and shipping at Newfound- 
 land by Admiral R,ichery. In the Indian seas, 
 the successes of the British were still more im- 
 portant. A Dutch squadron of three ships of the 
 line, three frigates, and many vessels of inferior 
 size, having on board two thousand land-troops, 
 destined to retake the Cape of Good Hope, was 
 . ^ 1796 captured by Admiral Elphinstone in 
 
 "■' ' ■ the Bay of Saldanha, while the Bata- 
 vian settlements of Ceylon, the Malaccas, and 
 Cochin, with the important harbour of Trin- 
 comalee, were, early in the year, taken posses- 
 sion of by the British forces.* 
 
 These important successes, particularly the 
 General ,oy ^^^'i"^,"?" 0^ the Cape, Ceylon, and 
 which these the Malaccas, ditiused the most gen- 
 successes dif- eral joy through the British nation, 
 fused mEng- jt was'justly observed that the for- 
 ■"^ ■ mer was a half-way-house to India, 
 
 and indispensable to the mighty empire which 
 we had acquired in the plains of Hindostan, 
 while the latter secured the emporium of the 
 China trade, and opened up the vast commerce 
 of the Indian Archipelago. The attention of the 
 people, by these great acquisitions, began to be 
 turned towards the probable result and final issue 
 of the war : they looked to the conquests of the 
 British at sea as likely to counterbalance the ac- 
 quisitions of the Republicans at land : they ob- 
 served that Rhodes long maintained a doubtful 
 contest with Rome after its land-forces had sub- 
 dued Spain, Carthage, and part of Gaul ; and 
 that in a similar contest Great Britain would 
 have incomparably greater chances of success 
 than the Grecian commonwealth, from the supe- 
 rior internal strength which the population of its 
 own islands afforded, and the far more extensive 
 commerce which enriched it from every quarter 
 of the globe. "Athens," said Xenophon, " would 
 have prevailed over Lacedasmon, if Attica had 
 been an island inaccessible save by water to the 
 land-forces of its opponent ;" and it was impossi- 
 ble not to see that nature had given that advan- 
 tage to the European which she had denied to 
 the Grecian maritime poAver. The formation of 
 a great colonial empire, embracing all the quar- 
 ters of the globe, held together and united by the 
 naval power of England, and enriching the parent 
 state by their commerce, and the market they 
 would open for its manufactures, began to en- 
 gage the thoughts not only of statesmen, but of 
 practical men, and the Cape and Ceylon to be 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1796, 194. Jom., ix., 240. 
 Vol. I. — K k k 
 
 spoken of as acquisitions which should never be 
 abandoned.* 
 
 St. Domingo still continued in the distracted 
 and unfortunate state into which it continued de- 
 had been thrown by the visionary pioruble state 
 dreams of the French Republicans, <>f St. Uomin- 
 and the frighful flames of a servile s°- 
 war which had been lighted up by their extrava- 
 gant philanthropists. All the efforts, both of the 
 French and English, to restore anything like 
 order to its furious and savage population, proved 
 unsuccessful. The latter had never been in suf- 
 ficient force to make any serious impression on 
 its numerous and frantic inhabitants ; and the 
 former were hardly able to retain a scanty foot- 
 ing in the northern part of the island, without 
 attempting to regain the splendid and prosperous 
 colony which they had lost. The blacks, taught 
 by experience, perfectly acquainted with the 
 country, and comparatively inaccessible to its 
 deadly climate, maintained a successful contest 
 with European forces, who melted away more 
 rapidly under its fatal evening gales than either 
 by the ravages of famine or the sword of the 
 enemy. Toussaint had already risen to emi- 
 nence in the command of the.se desultory forces, 
 and was taken into the French service with the 
 division he had organized,t in the vain attempt 
 to re-establish the sinking authority of the R,e- 
 publican commissioners. 
 
 Notwithstanding the disastrous state of her 
 principal colony, and the great losses rj-^g^f of alli- 
 which she had sustained in her mar- ance between 
 itime possessions, Great Britain France and 
 showed herself disposed during this Spain. 
 3'ear to make great sacrifices to France to obtain, 
 a general peace. In truth, notwithstanding her 
 naval successes, the situation of England, from 
 the disasters of her allies, had become sufficient- 
 ly alarming. Spain, detached by the treaty of 
 Bale from all connexion with the allies, had 
 lately fallen under the Republican influence, and. 
 given way to that jealousy of the British naval 
 power which is so easily excited among the Eu- 
 ropean states. The Directory, artfully impro- 
 ving these advantages, had fanned the Spanish 
 discontents into a flame, by holding out the hopes 
 of some acquisitions in Italy, won by the sword 
 of Napoleon, in case they joined the Republican 
 alliance. Influenced by these considerations, 
 the Spaniards fell into 'the snare, from which 
 they were destined in future to experience such, 
 disastrous effects, and on the 19th of igth Aug. 
 August concluded a treaty of alliance. At St. Ilde- 
 offensive and defensive, with France, fonso. 
 on the footing of the family compact. By this 
 treaty, the powers mutually guaranteed to each 
 other their dominions both in the Old and New- 
 World, and engaged to assist each other, in case 
 of attack, with twenty-four thousand land-troops, 
 thirty ships of the line, and six frigates. This 
 was followed, in the beginning of Octo- gj Oct. 
 ber, by a formal declaration of war on 
 the part of Spain against Great Britain.: Thus 
 England, which had commenced the war with, 
 so many confederates, saw herself not only de- 
 prived of all her maritime allies, but the whole 
 coasts of Europe, from the Texel to Gibraltar, 
 arraved in fierce hostility against her.§ 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1796, !y5. .Tom., ix., 241. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1796. 192, 19.3. Jom.. ix., 230, 240. 
 
 t Th., vin., 351 . 3.52. Ann. Reg.. 1797. 2. 
 
 <) Many grounds of complaint were assigned in the Span- 
 ish manifesto on this occasion ; but they met with q^, g j.jgg_ 
 a decisive refutation from the British cabinet, in ' ' 
 an able state paper, drawn by Mr. Canning. It was urged 
 
442 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXL 
 
 Impressed with these dangers, and desirous 
 Overture for a ^^^'^ ot' disarming the numerous and 
 general peace powerful party in Great ' Britain 
 made by Great who Contended against the war, as 
 Britam. ijQtfi unnecessary and impolitic, Mr. 
 
 by the Spanish court, that the conduct of the English during 
 the war, but especially at the siege of Toulon and in the 
 expedition of Toulon, had determined the cabinet of Madrid 
 to make peace with France as soon as it could be done with 
 safety to the monarchy ; that the bad faith of the English 
 government farther appeared in the treaty of the lOlh of 
 November, 1794, concluded, wuhout regard to the nghts of 
 Spain, with the United States ; m the injustice with which 
 they seized the St. Jago, at first taien by the French, but 
 afterward retaken by the English, which, by the subsisting 
 convention, ought to have been restored, and in the inter- 
 cepting of ammunition for the Spanish squadrons ; that the 
 crews of her ships had frequently landed on the coast of 
 Chill, and carried on a contraband trade, as well as recon- 
 noitred these valuable possessions, and had evinced a clear 
 intention of seizing part of the Spanish colonial territories, 
 by sending a considerable force to the Antilles and St. Do- 
 mingo, and her recent acquisition of the Dutch settlement 
 of Demerara ; that frequent insults and acts of violence had 
 been committed by the English cruisers upon Spanish ves- 
 sels in the Mediterranean ; that the Spanish territory had 
 been violated by descents of English ships on the coast of 
 Galicia and at Trinidad ; and, finally, that the majesty of 
 Spain had been insulted by the decrees of a court in Lon- 
 don, authorizing the arrest of its ambassador for a small 
 sum. " By all these insults," it concluded, " equally deep 
 and unparalleled, that nation has proved to the universe 
 that she recognises no other laws than the aggrandizement 
 of her commerce, and by her despotism, which has exhausted 
 our patience and moderation, has rendered a declaration of 
 war unavoidable."* 
 
 To this manifesto, the acrimonious style of which too 
 clearly betrayed the quarter from which it had proceeded, 
 it was replied by the British government, that " the unpro- 
 voked declaration of war on the part of Spain had at length 
 compelled the King of England to take measures to assert 
 the dignity of his crown ; that a simple reference to the 
 Spanish declaration, and a bare enumeration of the frivolous 
 charges which it contains, must be sufficient to satisfy every 
 reasonable and impartial person that no part of the conduct 
 of Great Britain towards Spain has afforded the smallest 
 ground of complaint. The acts of hostility attributed to 
 England consist either of matters perfectly innocent, or of 
 imputed opinions and intentions, of which no proof is ad- 
 duced nor effect alleged, or of complaints of the misconduct 
 of unauthonzed individuals, concerning which his majesty 
 has always professed his willingness to institute inquiry 
 and grant redress, where it was really due. The charge of 
 misconduct on the part of the British admiral at Toulon is 
 unprecedented and absurd, and this is j^erhaps the first in- 
 stance that has been imputed as a cnme to one of the com- 
 manding officers of two powers, acting in alliance, and ma- 
 king a common cause in war, that he did more than his pro- 
 portion of mischief to the common enemy. The treaty with 
 Amenca did nothing more than what every independent 
 power has a right to do, or than his Spanish majesty has 
 since that time himself done ; and inflicted no injury what- 
 ever on the subjects of that monarchy. The claims of all 
 parties in regard to the condemnation of the St. Jago, cap- 
 tured by his majesty's forces, were fully heard before the 
 only competent tribunal, and one whose impartiality is above 
 all suspicion. The alleged misconduct of some merchant 
 ■ships in landing their crews on the coasts of Chili and Peru 
 forms no legitioiate ground of complaint against the British 
 government ; and even if some irregularities had been com- 
 mitted, they might have been punished on the spot, or the 
 courts of London were always ready to receive and redress 
 complaints of that description. 
 
 " Id regard to the expedition to St. Domingo and Deme- 
 rara, with all the regard which he feels to the rights of neu- 
 tral powers, it is a new and unheard-of extension of neutral 
 rights which is to be restricted by no limits, and is to attach, 
 not to the territories of a neutral power itself, but to what- 
 ever may once have behmged to it, and to whatever may be 
 situated in its neighbourhood, though in the actual posses- 
 sion of an enemy. The complaint in regard to St. Domingo 
 is peculiarly unfortunate, as the cession of part of that isl- 
 and by the recent treaty from Spam to France is a breach 
 of that solemn treaty under which alone the crown of Spain 
 Jiolds any part of its American possessions. Such an act 
 would at once have justified any measures of retaliation on 
 the part of the British government ; but so earnest was their 
 desire to maintain peace, that they repeatedly endeavoured 
 to ascertain when the Spanish right to the ceded territory 
 wsis to terminate, m order that their efforts might be direct- 
 
 Pi It, in the close of this year, made overtures for 
 a general peace to the P'rench government. 
 Lord Malmesbur>' was despatched to Paris to 
 open the negotiations, but it is probable that no 
 great hopes of their success were entertained, as 
 nearly at the same time an alliance was conclu- 
 ded with Russia for the aid of sixty thousand 
 auxiliary troops to the Austrian forces.* The 
 British envoy arrived at Paris amid the accla- 
 mations of the inhabitants, and pro- 
 posals of peace were immediately ^..TeceE" 
 made by the English government. 
 These were, the recognition of the Republic by 
 the British government, and the restitution of all 
 the colonies to France and Holland which had 
 been conquered since the commencement of the 
 war. In return for the.se concessions, they insist- 
 ed that the French should restore the Low Coun- 
 tries to the emperor, Holland to the stadtholder, 
 and evacuate all their conquests in Italy, but they 
 were to retain Luxembourg, Namur, Nice, and 
 Savoy.t It was hardly to be expected that the Re- 
 publican government, engaged in so dazzling a 
 career of victory, and so entirely dependant on 
 popular favour, would consent to these terms, or 
 that they could have maintained their place at the 
 head of affairs if they had submitted to such rea- 
 sonable propositions, and, accordingly, after the 
 negotiations had been continued for two months, 
 they were abruptly broken off by the Directory, 
 ordering Lord Malmesbury to quit Paris in twen- 
 ty-four hours, and he immediately returned to 
 his own country.? But it must ever 
 be a matter of pride to the Briti.sh i^«<=- 2', I'SC- 
 historian, that the power which had been uni- 
 formly victorious on its own element should 
 have offered to treat on terms of equality with 
 that from which it had so little to dread, and that 
 England, to procure favourable terms for her al- 
 lies, was willing to have abandoned all her own 
 acquisitions. 
 
 While these negotiations were yet pending, a 
 mea.sure was undertaken by the French govern- 
 ment which placed England in the utmost peril, 
 and from which she was saved rather by the 
 winds of Heaven than any exertions of her own. 
 It was the extravagant expectations they had 
 
 * Ann. Reg., ixxviii., 19S. SUte Papers. 
 
 ed against the French alone. Some irregularities in the 
 course of so long and vast a contest may have been commit- 
 ted by the British cruisers in the exercise of the undoubted 
 right of search enjoyed by every belligerent state ; but to 
 the readiness of the British government to grant redress in 
 every case where an injury has been committed, even Spain 
 herself can bear testimony. The complaint regarding the 
 alleged decree against the Spanish ambassador is, if possi- 
 ble, still more fnvolous, that being nothing more than a sim- 
 ple citation to answer for a debt demanded, the mistaken 
 act of an individual who was immediately disavowed and 
 prosecuted by the government, and made repeated but vain 
 submissive applications to the Spanish ambass<ador for for- 
 giveness, such as in all former cases had been deemed satis- 
 factory. 
 
 " It will be plain to posterity, it is now notorious to Eu- 
 rope, that neither to the genuine wishes, nor even the mis- 
 taken policy of Spain, is lier present conduct to be attribu- 
 ted ; that not from enmity towards Great Britain, not from 
 any resentment of past or apprehension of future injuries, 
 but from a blind subservience to the views of his majesty's 
 enemies — from the dominion usurped over her councils and 
 actions by her new allies, she has been compelled to act in 
 a quarrel and for interests not her own; to take up arms 
 against one of those powers in whose cause she had profess- 
 ed to feel the strongest interest, and to menace with hostili- 
 ty another, against whom no cause of complaint is pretended 
 but an honourable adherence to its engagements." — Ann 
 Reg., 1796, 147. State Papers. 
 
 * Join., ix., 246. 
 
 t .lorn., ix., 246. Th., viii., 482. Ann. Reg., 1790, 190, 
 and State Papers, 147, 177. Hard., iv., 85. 86 
 
 t Jom., ix., 149. Ann. Reg., 1796, 191, and State Pa- 
 pers, 176, 177. Hard., iv., 106, 110. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 443 
 
 formed of success from this operation, which led 
 to the long delay and final rupture of the nego- 
 tiation.* 
 Ireland, long the victim of oppressive govern- 
 ment, and now of popular passion, 
 Alarmin? state .^^.^g ^^ jjjjg period in a state of un- 
 ** ""^ '"^ • usual excitation. The successful 
 issue of the French Revolution had stimulated 
 the numerous needy and ardent characters in that 
 distracted nation to project a similar revolt 
 against the authority of England, and above two 
 hundred thousand men, in all parts of the coun- 
 try, were engaged in a vast conspiracy for over- 
 turning the established government, and erecting 
 a republic, after the model of France, in its 
 stead. Overlooking the grinding misery which 
 the convulsions of the Republic had occasioned 
 to its inhabitants, without considering how an 
 insular power, detached from the continent, was 
 to maintain itself against the naval forces of Eng- 
 land, the patriots of Ireland rushed blindly into the 
 project, with that ardent but inconsiderate zeal 
 lor which the people of that generous country have 
 always been distinguished. The raalecontents 
 were enrolled under generals, colonels, and offi- 
 cers in all the coimties ; arms were secretly pro- 
 vided, and nothing was wanting but the arrival 
 of the French troops to proclaim the insurrection 
 in every part of the country. With such secre- 
 cy were the preparations made, that the British 
 government had but an imperfect account of their 
 danger, while the French Director}'', accurately 
 informed by their emissaries of what was going 
 forward, were fully prepared to turn it to the best 
 account.t; 
 
 * Hard., iv., 107. 
 
 t Hard., ii., 187, 189. Th., viii., 352, 486. Moore's Fitz- 
 gerald, 1., 275, 300. 
 
 t The intentions of tlie Irish Revolutionists, and the 
 length to which they had in secret carried their prepara- 
 tions for the formation of a Hibernian Republic, will be best 
 understood from the following- passages in a memorial pre- 
 sented by Wolfe Tone, one of their principal leaders, to the 
 French Directory. 
 
 "The Catholics of Ireland are 3,150,000, all trained from 
 their infancy in an hereditarj' hatred and alihorrence of the 
 English name. For these five yeare they have fixed their 
 eyes most earnestly on France, whom they look upon, with 
 great justice, as fighting their battles, as well as those of 
 all mankind who are oppressed. Of this class, I will stake 
 my head, there are 500,000 men who would fly to the stand- 
 ard of the Republic if they saw it once displayed in the 
 cause of liberty and their country. 
 
 "The Republic may also rely with confidence on the sup- 
 port of the Dissenters, actuated by reason and reflection, as 
 ■well as the Catholics, impelled by misery, and inflamed by 
 detestation of the English name. Inthe year 1791, the Dis- 
 senters of Belfast first formed the club of United Irishmen, 
 so called, because in that club, for the first time. Dissenters 
 and Catholics were seen together in harmony and union. 
 Corresp<jnding clubs were rapidly formed, the object of 
 •which was to subvert the tyranny of England, establish the in- 
 dependence of Ireland, and frame a free republic on the broad 
 basis of liberty and equality. These clubs were rapidly filled, 
 and extended, in June last, over two thirds of that province. 
 Their members are all bound by an oath of secrecy, and 
 could, I have not the smallest doubt, on a proper occasion, 
 raise the entire force of the province of Ulster, the most 
 populous, warlike, and best-informed inthe nation. 
 
 "The Catholics also have an organization, commencing 
 about the same time with the clubs last mentioned, but com- 
 posed of Catholics only. Until within these few months this 
 organization baffled the utmost vigilance of the Irish govern- 
 ment, un.successfully applied to discover its principles ; and 
 to this hour they are, I believe, unapprized of its extent. 
 The fact is, that in June last it embraced the whole peas- 
 antry of the provinces of Ulster, Leinster, and Connaught, 
 three fourths of the nation, and I have little doubt that it 
 has since extended into Munster. the remaining province. 
 These men. who are called defenders, arc completely organ- 
 ized on a military plan, divided according to their respective 
 districts, and olTicered by men chosen by themselves ; the 
 principle of their union is implicit obedience to the orders 
 of those whom they have elected as their generals, and whose ' 
 
 Hoche, at the head of a hundred thousand 
 men, on the shores of the ocean, in t^ c v. 
 
 r \r j> J Ti ■ "^^"", '■» Designs of the 
 
 La Vendee and Brittany, burned Directory and 
 with the desire to eclipse the great Hoche against 
 exploits of Napoleon and Moreau ^'"" '^"""try. 
 against the imi^erial forces. Ireland offered a 
 theatre worthy of his army and his reputation, 
 and by striking a decisive blow against the Eng- 
 lish power in that quarter, he had an opportunity 
 of crippling the ancient rival of France, and 
 achieving greater benefits for his country than 
 either the victory of Fleurus or the triumphs of 
 Rivoli. Truguet, the minister of marine, sec- 
 onded him warmly with all his influence, and by 
 their joint exertions an expedition was .shortly 
 prepared at Brest, more formidable than could 
 have been anticipated from the dilapidated state 
 of the French navy. It consisted of fifteen ships 
 of the line, on board of each of which were em- 
 barked six hundred soldiers, twelve frigates and 
 six corvettes, each carrying two hundred and 
 fifty men, and of transports and other vessels, 
 conveying in all twenty-five thousand land-forces. 
 This armament was to be joined by seven ships 
 of the line, under Richery, from the harbour of 
 Rochefort. The troops were the best in Hoche's 
 
 oliject is the emancipation of their country, the subversion 
 of English usurpation, and the bettering the ccmdili m of the 
 wretched peasantry of Ireland. The eyes of this whole 
 body, which may be said, almost without a figure, to be the 
 people of Ireland, are turned with the most anxious expec- 
 tation to France for zissistance and support. The oath of 
 their union recites 'that they will be faithful to the united 
 nations of France and Ireland,'' and several of them have al- 
 ready sealed it with their blood. I suppose there is no con- 
 spiracy, if a whole people can be said to conspire, wbich has 
 continued for so many years as this has dime, where the se- 
 cret has been so religiously kept, and where, in so vast a 
 number, bo few traitors are to be found. 
 
 "There is also a farther organization of the Catholics, 
 which IS called the General Committee, a representative 
 body chosen by the Catholics at large, which decides the 
 movements of the city of Dublin, and possesses a very great 
 influence on the minds of the Catholics throughout the na- 
 tion. I can add, from my personal knowledge, that a great 
 majority of the able and honest men who compose it are sin- 
 cere Republicans, warmly attached to the cause of France, 
 and as Irishmen and as Catholics, doubly bound to detest 
 the tyranny and domination of England,' which has often 
 deluged the country with their best blood. 
 
 "The militia are about eighteen thousand strong, as fine 
 men asany in Europe. Of these, sixteen thousand are (Cath- 
 olics, and of those a very great proportion are sworn de- 
 fenders. I have not a shadow of doubt that the militia 
 would, in cases of emergency, to a man, join the^r country- 
 men in throwing oflTthe yoke of England " — First Memorial 
 delivered to the French Directory, Feb., 1796, by Wolfe Tone. 
 —Wolfe Tone, ii., 187, 188, 191. 
 
 " It would be just as easy, in a month's time, to have an 
 army in Ireland of two hundred thousand men as ten 
 thousand. The peasantry would flock to the Republican 
 standard in such numbers as to embantiss the cenenil-in- 
 chief A proclamation should instantly be issueii, contain- 
 ing an invitation to the people to jnin the Republican stiiid- 
 ard, organize themselves, and form a National Convention 
 for the purpose of framing a government . and administering 
 the affairs of Ireland till it was put in activity. 
 
 " The first act of the convention thus constituted should 
 be to declare themselves the Representatives of the Irish 
 people, free and independent, and in that capacity tn form 
 an alliance, offensive and defensive, with the French Repub- 
 lic, stipulating that neither party should make peace with 
 England till the two republics were acknowledged. 
 
 " The convention .should next publish a proclamation, no- 
 tifying their independence and their alliance with the French 
 Republic, forbidding all adherence to the British government 
 under the penalty of high treason, ordering all tuxes and 
 contributions to be paid only to such perscms as shou'd be 
 appointed by the provisional government. Another to the 
 militia, recalling them to the standard of their co'intrv ; and 
 another to the Irishmen in the navy, recallin? them directly 
 from that service ; and this should he f .Unwed nv another, 
 confiscating every shilling of English properti/ in Ireland of 
 every species, movable or fixed, and apn'opriating if to the 
 national service." — Wolfe Tone, Seconil .Memorial ad- 
 dressed to the French, Directory, ii., 197, 201. 
 
444 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXI. 
 
 army ; the general-in-chief was sanguine of suc- 
 cess ; and sucli were the hopes entertained of 
 the result of the expedition, that the Directory 
 transmitted orders for it to sail several wrecks be- 
 fore Lord Malmesbury left Paris, and their ex- 
 pectations of its consequences were the principal 
 motive for breaking oli'tlie negotiation.* 
 
 To distract the attention of the enemy, the 
 most inconsistent accounts were spread of the 
 object of the expedition; sometimes that it was 
 destined for the West Indies ; at others, for the 
 shores of Portugal ; but, notwithstanding these 
 artifices, the British government readily discern- 
 ed where the blow was really intended to be 
 struck. Orders were transmitted to Ireland to 
 have the militia in readiness ; a vigilant watch 
 kept up on the coasts; and, in the event of a de- 
 scent being effected, all the cattle and provisions 
 driven into the interior; precautions which in 
 the end proved unnecessary, but were dictated 
 by a prudent foresight, and gave the French gov- 
 ernment an idea of the species of resistance 
 which they might expect in the event of such an 
 invasion being really effected. t 
 
 The expedition set sail in the middle of De- 
 The expedi- cember, two days before the negotia- 
 tion sets sail, tion was broken off at Paris ; but it 
 Dec. 15. encountered disasters from the very 
 moment of its leaving the harbour. A violent 
 tempest arose immediately after its departure; 
 and though the mist with which it was accom- 
 panied enabled the French admiral to elude the vi- 
 gilance of the British squadron, yet one ship of the 
 line struck on the rocks near the isle of Ushant and 
 perished ; several were damaged, and the fleet to- 
 tally dispersed. This tempestuous weather con- 
 tinued the whole time the fleet was at sea. Hoche 
 himself, who was on board a frigate, was separ- 
 ated from the remainder of his squadron ; and, 
 after a stormy passage, a part of the expedition 
 reached the point of rendezvous in Bantry Bay, 
 eight days after its departure from 
 December -4. ^^^ p^ench harbour. Admiral Bou- 
 vet, the second in command, resolved to land 
 the troops, although only eight ships of the line 
 It is dispersed ^^^ ^°"^^ °f '^^*^ transports were as- 
 l)y the tern- scmbled, having on board six thou- 
 pests, and re- sand land-forces ; but the violence 
 gains Brest, ^f j}^g tempest, and the prodigious 
 swell of the sea on that iron-bound coast, render- 
 ed that impossible, and the crew of a boat, which 
 was sent through the surf to reconnoitre, were 
 speedily made prisoners by the numerous bodies 
 of armed men who appeared on the coast to op- 
 pose a landing. Dispirited by such a succession 
 of disasters, unwilling to undertake the respon- 
 sibility of hazarding a part only of the land-for- 
 ces in the absence of the general-in-chief, and 
 apprehensive that provisions for the crews of the 
 vessels would fail from the long time that they 
 had been at sea, Bouvet resolved to make the 
 best of his way back to the French harbours. He 
 set sail accordingly, and had the good fortune to 
 reach Brest on the last day of Decem- 
 Deceraber 31. ^^^.^ whither he was soon followed by 
 the scattered divisions of his fleet, after two ships 
 of the line and three frigates had been lost; one 
 of the former by the violence of the elements, and 
 the other by the attacks of the English. Hoche 
 himself, after escaping a thousand perils, Avas 
 landed on the island of Pi.he ; and the Directory, 
 
 * Ann. Re?., 1796, 198. Th., viii., 353, 486,487. Jom., 
 ix., 250. Hard., iv., 107. 
 
 t Jom., IX.. 253. Th., viii., 485. Ann. Reg., 1706, 198, 
 199. 
 
 abandoning the expedition for the present, moved 
 the greater part of his forces to the Rhine, to 
 replace the losses of Jourdan's army, to the 
 command of which they destined that able gen- 
 eral.* 
 
 Such was the issue of this expedition, which 
 had so long kept Great Britain in Reflections ou 
 suspense, and revealed to its ene- the failure of 
 mies the vulnerable quarter in which this expedition, 
 it might be attacked with the greatest chance of 
 success. Its result was pregnant with important 
 instructions to the rulers of both coimtries. To 
 the French, as demonstrating the extraordinary 
 risks which attend a maritime expedition in 
 comparison with a land campaign; the small 
 number of forces which can be embarked on 
 board even a great fleet, and the unforeseen dis- 
 asters which frequently, on that element, defeat 
 the best concerted enterprises ; to the English, as 
 showing that the empire of the seas does not al- 
 ways afford security against invasion ; that in 
 the face of superior maritime forces, her posses- 
 sions were for sixteen days at the mercy of the 
 enemy, and that neither the skill of her sailors 
 nor the valour of her armies, but the fur}- of the 
 elements, saved Ihem from danger in the most 
 vulnerable part of their dominions. While these 
 considerations are fitted to abate the confidence 
 of invasion, they are calculated, at the same time, 
 to weaken an overweening confidence on naval 
 superiority, and to demonstrate that the only 
 base on which certain reliance can be placed, 
 even by an insular power, is a well-disciplined 
 army, and the patriotism of its own subjects. 
 
 It is a curious subject for speculation, what 
 might have been the result had Hoche succeeded 
 in landing with sixteen thousand of his best 
 troops on the Irish shores. To those who consid- 
 er, indeed, the patriotic spirit, indomitable val- 
 our, and persevering character of the English 
 people, and the complete command they had of 
 the sea, the final issue of such a contest cannot 
 appear doubtful; but it is equally evident that 
 the addition of such a force, and so able a com- 
 mander, to the numerous bodies of Irish male- 
 contents, would have engendered a dreadful do- 
 mestic war, and that the whole energies of the 
 Empire might for a very long period have been 
 employed in saving itself from dismemberment. 
 When it is considered, also, how widely the spirit 
 of discontent was diffused even through the popu- 
 lation of Great Britain at that period, in what a 
 formidable manner it soon after broke out in the 
 mutiny at the Nore, and what serious financial 
 embarrassments were already pressing upon the 
 treasury, and preparing the dreadful catastrophe 
 which led to the suspension of ca.sh payments in 
 the following spring, it must be admitted that the 
 nation then stood upon the edge of an abyss ; and 
 that, if ever Providence interferes in human af- 
 fairs otherwise than by the energy which it in- 
 fuses into the cause of justice, and the moral 
 laws to which the deeds of free agents are ren- 
 dered subservient, its protection never appeared 
 in so remarkable a manner to the British islands 
 since the winds dispersed the Spanish Armnda. 
 
 The close of this year was marked by the death 
 of the Empress Catharine, and the ac- ,q,j, ^f„^, 
 cession ot the Emperor Paul to the Death of the 
 Russian throne; an event of no small Empress 
 importance to the future fate of the Catharine. 
 war and destiny of the world. Shortly before her 
 
 * Ann. neg., 1796, 198. Th., viii., 489, 490. Jom., ii.,. 
 
179C.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 445 
 
 death, she had by art and flattery contrived to 
 add Courland to her immense dominions: she 
 had rCceniiy made herself mistress ol'Derbent in 
 Persia ; and the alliance with Great Britain and 
 Austria secured to her the concurrence of these 
 powers in her favourite project of dismembering 
 the Turkish dominions, and placing her young- 
 est son on the throne of Constantine. She thus 
 seemed to be fast approaching the grand object 
 of her ambition, and might have lived to see the 
 cross planted on the domes of St. Sophia, when 
 death interrupted all her schemes of ambition, in 
 the sL5Lt)'-seventh year of her age, and the thirty- 
 sixth of her reign. Her latest project was the 
 formation of a powerful confederacy for the de- 
 fence of Europe against the Fi'ench Republic ; 
 and she had given orders for the levy of 150,000 
 men, destined to take a part in the German cam- 
 
 f)aigns; a design which, if carried into eflect by 
 ler linn and intrepid hand, might have acceler- 
 ated by nearly twenty years the catastrophe which 
 closed the war.* 
 
 Few sovereigns will occupy a more conspicu- 
 „ , ous place in the page of history, or 
 
 have left in their conduct on the 
 throne a more exalted reputation. Prudent in 
 council and intrepid in conduct ; cautious in 
 forming resolutions, but vigorous in carrying 
 them into execution ; ambitious, but of great and 
 splendid objects only ; passionately fond of glon,', 
 without the alloy, at least in puijlic affairs, of 
 sordid or vulgar inclinations ; discerning in the 
 choice of her counsellors, and swayed in matters 
 of stale only by lofty intellects ; munificent in 
 public, liberal in private, firm in resolution, she 
 dignified a despotic throne by the magnanimity 
 and patriotism of a more virtuous age. But 
 these great qualities were counterbalanced by as 
 remarkable vices — and more truly, perhaps, of 
 her than of the virgin queen of England, it 
 might be said, in Burleigh's words, "that if to- 
 day she was more than man, to-morrow she 
 ■would be less than woman." Vehement, sensual, 
 and capricious in private life, she seemed, as a 
 woman, to live only for the gratification of her 
 passions ; tyrannical, overbearing, and some- 
 times cruel in her administration, she filled her 
 subjects with rmbounded awe for her authority. 
 In the lustre of her administration, however, the 
 career of her victories, and the rapid progress of 
 her subjects under so able a government, man- 
 kind overlooked her dissolute manners, the occa- 
 sional elevation of unworthy favourites, frequent 
 acts of tyranny, and the dark transaction which 
 signalized her accession to the throne ; they over- 
 looked the frailties of the woman in the dignity 
 of the princess ; and paid to the abilities and 
 splendour of the Semirarais of the North that in- 
 voluntary homage which commanding qualities 
 on the throne never fail to acquire, even M-hen 
 stained by irregularities in private life. 
 
 The end of the same year witnessed the resig- 
 Retirement of ^^^^^^ o^ ^^e presidency of the United 
 Washington States of America by General Wash- 
 from public ington, and his voluntary retirement 
 f '^^t hlr^c't"'^' ■''^'° private life. Modern history 
 and admirable ^^^ °o' SO spotless a character to 
 valedictory commemorate. Invincible in re.so- 
 address to his lution, firm in conduct, incorruptible 
 Se"f I7"l79'6 "^ i^fegrity, he brought to the helm 
 *P ■ '■ ' ■ of a victorious republic the simpli- 
 city and innocence of rural life ; he was forced 
 into greatness by circumstances, rather than led 
 
 Aon. Reg-., 1796, 200, 202. 
 
 into it by inclination, and prevailed over his 
 enemies rather by the wisdom of his designs and 
 the perseverance of his character, than any ex- 
 traordinary genius for the art of war. A soldier 
 from necessity and patriotism rather than dispo- 
 sition, he was the first to recommend a return to 
 pacific councils when the independence of his 
 country was secured, and bequeathed to his 
 countrymen an address, on leaving their govern- 
 ment, to which there is no composition of unin- 
 spired wisdom which can bear a comparison. ♦t 
 He Avas modest without diffidence; sensible to 
 the voice of fame without vanity; independent 
 and dignified without either asperity or pride. 
 He was a friend to liberty, but not licentiousness ; 
 not to the dreams of enthusiasts, but to tho.se 
 practical ideas which America had inherited from 
 her English descent, and which were opposed to 
 nothing so much as the extravagant love of 
 power in the French Democracy. Accordingly, 
 after having signalized his life by successful re- 
 sistance to English oppression, he closed it b}-- 
 the warmest advice to cultivate the friendship of 
 Great Britain ; and by his casting vote, shortly 
 before his resignation, ratified a treaty of friendly 
 and commercial intercourse between the mother- 
 country and its emancipated offspring. He was 
 a Cromwell without his ambition ; a Sylla with- 
 out his crimes : and, after having rai.sed his coun- 
 try, by his exertions, to the rank of an independ- 
 ent state, closed his career by a voluntary relin- 
 quishment of the power which a gratelul people 
 had bestowed. It is the highest glory of England 
 
 * See Aun. Reg., 1796. State Papers, 293. 
 
 t This great man observes, in that admirable composition : 
 " Towards the preservation of your government and the 
 permanence of your present happy state, it is requisite not 
 only that you discountenance irregular oppositions to its ac- 
 knowledged authority, but also that you resist with care the 
 spirit of innovation upon its principles, however specious 
 the pretexts. One method of assault may be to effect in the 
 forms of the Constitution alterations which will impair the 
 energy of the system, and thus to undermine what cannot 
 be directly overthrown. In all the changes to which you 
 maybe invited, remember that time and habit are at least as 
 necessary to fii the true character of governments as of 
 other human institutions ; that experiment is the surest 
 standard by which to test the real tendency of the existing 
 constitution of a country ; that facility in changes, upon the 
 mere credit of hypothesis and opinion, exposes to perpetual 
 change, from the endless variety of hypothesis and opinion ; 
 and remember especially, that for the efficient management 
 of your common interests, in a country so extensive as ours, 
 a government of as much vigour as is consistent with the 
 perfect security of liberty is indispensable. Liberty itself 
 will find in such a government, with powers properly dis- 
 tributed and adjusted, its surest guardian. It is, indeed, 
 little else than a name, where the government is too feeble 
 to withstand the enterprises of faction, to confine each mem- 
 ber of the society within the limits prescribed by the laws, 
 and to maintain all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of 
 the right af person and property. 
 
 " Let me now warn you, in the most solemn manner, 
 against the baneful effects of the spirit of party generally. 
 It is unfortunately inseparable from our nature, having its 
 roots in the strongest passions of the human mind. It ex- 
 ists under diifereut shapes in all governments, more or less 
 stifled, controlled, or oppressed, but in those of the popular 
 form it is seen in its greatest rankness, and it is truly their 
 worst enemy. The alternate dominion of one faction over 
 another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge natural to party 
 dissension, which in different ages and countries has perpe- 
 trated the most horrid enormities, is itself a most horrid des- 
 potism. But this leads at length to a more formal and per- 
 manent despotism. The disorders and miseries which re- 
 sult, gradually incline the minds of men to seek security 
 and repose in the absolute power of a single individual ; and 
 sooner or later, the chief of some prevailing faction, more 
 able or more fortunate than his competitors, turns this des- 
 potism to the purposes of his own elevation, on the ruins of 
 public liberty." What words, to be spoken by the founder 
 of the American Republic, the refuser of the American 
 crown, at a time when the career of Napoleon had hardly 
 commenced in Europe !— See Ann. Reg., xxiviii., 298 ; 
 State Papers. 
 
446 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIL 
 
 to have given birth, even amid transatlantic 
 wilds, to such a man ; and if she cannot number 
 him among those who have extended her prov- 
 inces ur augmented her dominions, she may at 
 least feel a legitimate pride in the victories which 
 he achieved, and the great qualities which he 
 exhibited, in the contest with herseli', and in- 
 dulge with satisfaction in the reflection that that 
 
 vast empire, which neither the ambition of Louis 
 XIV. nor the power of Napoleon could dis- 
 member, received its first rude shock from the 
 courage which she had communicated to her own 
 offspring ; and that, amid the convulsions and 
 revolutions of other states, real liberty has arisen 
 in that country alone, which inherited in its veins 
 the genuine principles of British ireedom. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 INTERNAL TRANSACTIONS AND NAVAL CAMPAIGN OF GREAT BRITAIN IN 1797. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Gloomy Aspect of Public Affairs in England in the Be^nning 
 of 1797. — Crisis of the Bank. — Important Order in Council 
 suspending Cash Payments. — Debates on the Subject in 
 Parliament. — Bill Perpetuating this Suspension brought 
 in and carried by Mr. Pitt; at first Temporary, then till 
 the Conclusiou of the War.— Immense Consequence of 
 this Change — Double Set of Causes which affect the 
 Value of Government Fafier. — Parliamentary Reform is 
 brought forward by Mr. Grey.— His Plan of Reform, and 
 Arguments in support of it. — Arguments on the other 
 side by Mr. Pitt. — It is rejected by Parliament. — Reflec- 
 tions on this Subject. — Arguments for and against a 
 Continuance of the War. — Supplies voted for the Year. — 
 Naval Preparations of France and Spain. — Mutiny in the 
 Fleet.— Origin of the Discontents in the Navy. — First 
 breaks out in the Channel Fleet. — Perfect Order main- 
 tained by the Insurgents. — The Demands of the Fleet are 
 granted by Government, and Lord Howe at length suc- 
 ceeds in Restoring Discipline. — Alarming Mutiny at the 
 Nore. — Dreadful Consternation in London. — Firmness of 
 the King and Government. — Noble Conduct of Parlia- 
 ment. — Bill against the Mutineers passes by a great Ma- 
 jority. — The Insurgents become divided. — Patriotic Con- 
 duct of the Channel Fleet. — The Mutineers at length 
 sul)mit. — Parker is tried and executed. — Admirable 
 Conduct of Mr. Pitt on the Occasion. — Glorious Firmness 
 of Admiral Duncan at this Crisis. — The Mutiny was to- 
 tally unconnected with France. — Battle of St. Vincent's. 
 — First Appearance of Nelson and Collingwood. — Great 
 Effect produced in Europe by this Victory. — Birth and 
 Parentage of Nelson. — His Character. — Battle of Camper- 
 down. — Immense Effect of this Victory. — Honours be- 
 stowed on Admiral Duncan and Sir John Jarvis. — Abor- 
 tive Descent in Pembroke Bay. — Capture of Trinidad. — 
 Death of Mr. Burke. — His Character. 
 
 Although the war had now continued four 
 years, and it was obvious to all the world that 
 England and France were the principals ia the 
 contest, yet these two states had not, as yet, come 
 into immediate and violent collision. Inferior 
 powers required to be struck dowm, weaker states 
 to be removed from the combat, before the lead- 
 ers of the fight dealt their blows at each other; 
 like the champions of chivaliy, who were sep- 
 arated in the commencement of the affray by 
 subordinate knights, and did not engage in mor- 
 tal conflict till the field was cleared of the dead 
 and the dying. 
 
 The period, however, was now approaching 
 when this could no longer continue, and the suc- 
 cesses of France had been such as to compel 
 Britain to fight, not merely for victory, but ex- 
 istence. All the allies with whom, and for 
 whose protection she had engaged in the con- 
 test, were either struggling in the extremity of 
 disaster, or openly arrayed under the banners of 
 her enemies. Austria, after a desperate and 
 heroic resistance in Italy, was preparing for the 
 defence of her last barriers in the passes of the 
 Alps. Holland was virtually incorporated with 
 the conquering Republic. Spain had recently 
 joined its forces; the whole Continent, from the 
 Texel to Gibraltar, was aiTayed against Great 
 Britain ; and all men were sensible that, in spite 
 of her maritime superiority, she had in the pre- 
 
 ceding winter narrowly escaped invasion in the 
 most vulnerable quarter, and owed to the winds 
 and the waves her exemption from the horrors 
 of civil war. 
 
 The aspect of public affairs in Britain had 
 never been so clouded since the com- 
 mencement of the war, nor, indeed, of pu™hc a^'^ 
 duringthewholeof the 19th century, fans in Eng- 
 as they were at the opening of the land in the be- 
 year 1797. The return of Lord fi'^^'"? °^ 
 Malmesbury from Paris had closed 
 every hope of terminating a contest, in which 
 the national burdens were daily increasing, while 
 the prospect of success was continually dimin- 
 ishing. Party spirit raged with uncommon vio- 
 lence in every part of the Empire. Insurrections 
 prevailed in many districts of Ireland, discon- 
 tents and suffering in all; commercial embar- 
 rassments were rapidly increasing, and the con- 
 tinued pressure on the bank threatened a total 
 dissolution of public credit. The consequence 
 of this accumulation of disasters was a rapid 
 fall of the public securities; the three per cents, 
 were sold as low as 51, having fallen to that from 
 98, at which they stood at the commencement of 
 the contest. Petitions for a change of ministers 
 and an alteration of government were presented 
 from almost every city of note in the Empire, and 
 that general distrust and depression prevailed, 
 which is at once the cause and effect of public 
 misfortune.* 
 
 The first of these disasters was one which, in 
 a despotic state, unacquainted with . 
 the unlimited confidence in govern- ^1,"^^^ "^ ^^^ 
 ment that, in a free state, results from 
 long-continued fidelity in the discharge of its en- 
 gagements, would have proved fatal to the credit 
 of government. For a long period the bank had 
 experienced a pressure for money, owing partly 
 to the demand for gold and silver, which result- 
 ed from the distresses of commerce, and partly 
 to the great drains upon the specie of the coun- 
 try, which the extensive loans to the imperial 
 government had occasioned. So early as Janu- 
 ary, 1795, the influence of these causes was so 
 severely felt, that the bank directors informed 
 the chancellor of the exchequer that it was their 
 wish that he would so arrange his finances as 
 not to depend on any farther a.ssistance from 
 them ; and during the whole of that and the fol- 
 lowing year, the peril of the continued advances 
 for the imperial loans was strongly and earnest- 
 ly represented to government. The pressure 
 arising from these causes, severely experienced 
 through the whole of 1796, was brought to a cri- 
 sis in the close of that year by the run upon the 
 countiy banks, which arose from the dread of 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1797, 148, 149. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 447 
 
 invasion, and the an.xiety of every naan to con- 
 vert his paper into cash in the troubled times 
 which seemed to be approaching. These banks, 
 as the only means of averting- bankruptcy, ap- 
 plied from all quarters to the Bank of England ; 
 the panic speedily gained the metropolis, and 
 such was the run upon that establishment, that 
 they were reduced to payment in sixpences, and 
 
 T . . were on the verge of insolvency, 
 Important or- , , . ° ., . •' ' 
 
 derm council when an order m council was mter- 
 suspendmg poscd for their relief, suspending all 
 cash pay- payments in cash until the sense of 
 ^"ljgy_ ^ ' Parliament could be taken upon the 
 best means of restoring the circula- 
 tion, and supporting the public and commercial 
 credit of the country.* 
 
 This great and momentous measure, fraught 
 Debates oa with such lasting and important con- 
 this subject in sequences to the prosperity and fab- 
 Parliameiit. j-jc of society in Great Britain, was 
 immediately made the subject of anxious and 
 vehement debate in both houses of Parliament. 
 On the one hand, it was urged that this suspen- 
 sion of credit was not owing to any temporary 
 disasters, but to deep, progressive, and accumu- 
 lating causes, which all thinking men had long 
 deplored, and which had grown to a head under 
 the unhappy confidence which the house had 
 repo.sed in the king's ministers ; that the real 
 cause of this calamity was to be found in the 
 excessive and extravagant expenditure in all de- 
 partments of government, and the enormous 
 loans to foreign states ; that the consequences 
 of this measure were certan, and might be seen 
 as in a mirror in the adjoining Republic of 
 France ; a constant fall in the value of bank- 
 notes, a rise in the price of all the articles of hu- 
 man consumption, augmented expenditure, and 
 a continuance of the frantic and costly expedi- 
 tions, from which both the national honour and 
 security had already so severely sutTered. On 
 the other hand, it was contended by the friends 
 of the administration that it never was the in- 
 tention of government to make bank-notes a le- 
 gal tender; that the measure adopted was not a 
 permanent regulation, but a temporary expedi- 
 ent, to enable the bank to gain time to meet the 
 heavy demands which unexpected circumstan- 
 ces had brought upon it ; that the bank was per- 
 fectly able ultimately to make good all its en- 
 gagements, and so the public had already be- 
 come convinced, in the short interval which had 
 elapsed since the order in council was issued; 
 that it was indispensable, however, that Parlia- 
 ment should be satisfied of this solvency, and 
 the necessity v/hich existed for the measure 
 which was adopted, and therefore that the matter 
 should be referred to a secret committee, to re- 
 port on the funds and engagements of the Bank 
 of England, and the measures to be taken for its 
 ultimate regulation.t 
 
 This measure having been carried by Mr. Pitt, 
 Bill perpetua ^ committee was appointed, which 
 tin^ this sus- reported shortly after that the funds 
 pension at first of the bank were jei7,597,000, while 
 temporary. jtg ^^^^^ ^^^^g ^^^^ £13,770,000, leav- 
 ing a balance of £3,800,000 in favour of the es- 
 tablishment ; but that it was necessary, for a 
 limited time, to suspend the cash payments. 
 Upon this, a bill for the restriction of payments 
 in specie was introduced, which provided that 
 bank-notes should be received as a legal tender 
 
 * Ann., Reg., 1797, 179, 180. 
 t Pari. Ilist., xxxiii., 294, 391. 
 
 by the collectors of taxes, and have the effect of 
 stopping the issuing of arrest on mesne process 
 for payment of debt between man and man. 
 The bill was limited in its operation to the 24th 
 of June ; but it was afterward renewed from time 
 to time, and in November, 1797, ai length tiU 
 continued till the conclusion of a thecouciusioa 
 general peace ;* and the obligation "f "»« war. 
 on the bank to pay in specie was never again 
 imposed till Mr. Peel's act in 1819. 
 
 Such was the commencement of the paper 
 system in Great Britain, which ul- immense con- 
 timately produced such astonishing sequences of 
 effects ; which enabled the Empire •■'"» change, 
 to carry on for so long a period so costly a war 
 and to maintain for years armaments greater than 
 had been raised by the Roman people in the ze- 
 nith of their power; which brought the struggle 
 at length to a triumphant issue, and arrayed all 
 the forces of eastern Europe, in English pay, 
 against France, on the banks of the Rhine. To 
 the same system must be ascribed ultimate ef- 
 fects as disastrous as the immediate were bene- 
 ficial and glorious ; the continued and progress- 
 ive rise of rents, and fall in the value of money ; 
 increased expenditure, the growth of sanguine 
 ideas and extravagant habits in all classes of 
 society: unbounded speculation, prodigious prof- 
 its, and frequent disasters among the commer- 
 cial rich : increased wages, general prosperity,^ 
 and occasional depression among the labouring 
 poor : a vacillation of prices, unparalleled in any 
 age of the world ; a creation of property in some, 
 and destruction of it in others, which equalled, in 
 its ultimate consequences, all but the disasters 
 of a revolution. 
 
 When government paper is made, either di- 
 rectly or by implication, a legal ten- p^^^i^ ^^^ „f 
 der m all the transactions oi life, causes which 
 two different causes may conspire affect the val- 
 to affect prices, tending to the same "^ "^ goveru- 
 effect, but in very different degrees. ""*"' P'*P®''" 
 The first is the general fall in the value of mon- 
 ey, and consequent rise in the price of every ar- 
 ticle of life, which results from the unrestrained 
 issue of paper ; and this effect takes place with- 
 out any distrust in government, from the mere 
 increase in the circulating medium, when com- 
 pared with the commodities in the general mar- 
 ket of the nation which it represents, or is des- 
 tined, in its transmission from hand to hand, to 
 purchase. This change of prices proceeds on the 
 same principles, and arises from the same causes 
 as the fall in the money-price of grain or cattle, 
 from an excess in the supply of these articles in 
 the market. The second is the far greater, and 
 sometimes unbounded depreciation, which arises 
 from distrust in the ultimate solvency of govern- 
 ment, or the means which the nation possesses 
 of making good its engagements. To this fall 
 no limits can be assigned, because government 
 may not be deemed capable of discharging a 
 hundredth part of its debts, whereas the varia- 
 tion of prices arising from the former seldom 
 exceeds a duplication of their wonted amount: 
 an effect, however, which is perfectly sufficient, 
 if continued for any considerable time, to make 
 one half of the property of the kingdom change 
 hands. 
 
 The tme test of the former effect is to be found 
 in a general rise in the prices of every commod- 
 ity, but without any difference between the mon- 
 
 ' Ann. Reg., 1797, 192, i 
 and 1028. 
 
 Pari. Hist., xxxiii., 294, 394, 
 
448 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXII. 
 
 ey-value when paid in specie and when paid in 
 paper; the mark of the latter is, not only a rise in 
 prices, even when paid in gold or silver, but an 
 extraordinary diflerence between prices when 
 discharged in a paper and a metallic currency. 
 Notwithstanding all that the spirit of party may 
 have alleged, there does not appear to have ever 
 been any traces of the latter etiect in this coun- 
 try, or that at any period a higher price was ex- 
 acted for articles when paid in bank-notes than 
 in gold ; whereas, in France, when the credit of 
 government was almost extinct, a dinner which, 
 when paid in gold, cost a louis,* could only be 
 discharged in assignats for twenty-eight thou- 
 isand francs. But the former consequences pre- 
 vailed long, and with the most wide-Spread ef- 
 fects, in this country. Ever}' article of life was 
 speedily doubled in price, and continued above 
 twent}' years at that high standard ; and, upon 
 the recurrence to a metallic currency in 1819, 
 the distress and suffering among the industrious 
 classes long exceeded anytliing ever before wit- 
 nessed in our history. 
 
 The opposition deemed this a favourable op- 
 Parliaraent- portunity to bring forward their la- 
 ary reform vourite project of Parliamentary re- 
 brought for- form ; as the disasters of the war, the 
 ward by Mr. suspension of cash payments by the 
 ^''^'' bank, the mutiny of the fleet, which 
 
 ■will be immediately noticed, and the failure of 
 the attempt to negotiate with France, had filled 
 all men's minds with consternation, and disposed 
 many true patriots to doubt the possibility of 
 continuing the present system. On the 26th of 
 His plan of re- J^^^.V, Ml"-, afterward Earl, Grey, 
 form, and arg-u- brought forward his promised mo- 
 ments in sup- tion for a change in the system of 
 port of It. representation, which is chiefly re- 
 
 markable as containing the outlines of that vast 
 scheme which con\'nlsed the nation when he 
 was at the head of affairs in 1831, and subse- 
 quently made so great a change on the British 
 Constitution. He proposed that the qualifica- 
 tion for county electors should remain as it was, 
 but that the members they returned should be 
 increased from 92 to 113; that the franchise 
 should be extended to copyholders, and lease- 
 holders holding leases for a certain duration; 
 and that the whole remainder of the members, 
 400 in number, should be returned by one de- 
 scription of persons alone, namely, household- 
 ers. He proposed farther, that the elections 
 should be taken over the whole kingdom at once, 
 and a large portion of the smaller boroughs be 
 disfranchised. By this scheme, he contended, 
 the landowners, the merchants, and all the re- 
 spectable classes of the community, would be 
 adequately represented ; and those only excluded 
 whom no man would wish to see retain their 
 place in the legislature, namely, the nominees 
 of great families, Avho obtained seats not for the 
 public good, but their private advantage. Mr. 
 Erskine, who .seconded the motion, farther ar- 
 gued, in an eloquent speech, that, from the grad- 
 tial and growing influence of the crowm, the 
 House of Commons had become perverted from 
 its original office, which was that of watching 
 with jealous care over the other branches of the 
 legislature, into the ready instrument of their 
 abuses and encroachments; that there was now 
 a deep and wide-spread spirit of disaffection 
 prevalent in the minds of the people, which ren- 
 dered it absolutely indispensable that their just 
 
 demands should be conceded in time ; that far- 
 ther resistance would drive them into Republi- 
 canism and revolution ; that the head of the gov- 
 ernment itself had once declared that no upright 
 or useful administration could exist while the 
 house was constituted as it then was ; that the 
 voice of complaint could not be silenced by a 
 sullen refusal to remedy the grievance, and, 
 though this road might be pursued for a season, 
 that the end of these things was death. " Give, 
 on the other hand,"' said he, "to the people the 
 blessings of the Constitution, and they will join 
 with ardour in its defence ; and the power of the 
 disaffected be permanently crippled, by severing 
 from them all the rational and virtuous of the 
 community." 
 
 On the other hand, it was contended by Mr. 
 Pitt that the real question was not Arguments 
 whether some alteration in the system against it by 
 of representation might not be attend- ^^^- P'"- 
 ed with advantage, but whether the degree of 
 benefit was worth the chance of the mischief it 
 might possibly, ur would probably induce. That 
 it was clearly not prudent to give an opening to 
 principles which would never be satisfied with 
 any concession, but would make every acquisi- 
 tion the means of demanding, with greater effect, 
 still more extensive acquisitions; that the for- 
 tress of the Constitution was now beleaguered 
 on all sides, and to suiTcnder the outworks 
 would only render it soon impossible to main- 
 tain the defence of the body of the place ; that he 
 had himself, at one period, been a reformer, and 
 he would have been so still, had men's minds 
 been in a calm and settled state, and had he 
 been secure that they would rest content with 
 the redress of real grievances; but, since the 
 commencement of the French Revolution, it was 
 too plain that this was very far indeed from be- 
 ing the case. That it was impossible to believe 
 that the men who remained unmoved by the dis- 
 mal spectacle which their principles had pro- 
 duced in a neighbouring state — who, on the con- 
 trary, ro.se and fell with the success or decline 
 of Jacobinism in every country of Europe — were 
 actuated by similar views with those who prose- 
 cuted the cause of reform as a practical advan- 
 tage, and maintained it on constitutional views; 
 and he could never give credit to the assertion, 
 that the temper of moderate refonners would in- 
 duce them to make common cause with the ir- 
 reconcilable enemies of the Constitution. That 
 reform was only a disguise assumed to conceal 
 the approaches of revolution ; and that rapine, 
 conflagration, and murder were the necessary 
 attendants on any innovation since the era of 
 the French Revolution, which had entirely al- 
 tered the grounds on which the question of re- 
 form was rested, and the class of men by whom 
 it was espoused. That these objections applied 
 to any alteration of the government in the pres- 
 ent heated state of men's minds ; but, in addition 
 to that, the specific plan now brought forAvard 
 was both highly exceptionable in the- u is rcject- 
 ory and unsupported by experience, ed by Par- 
 On a division, Mr. Grey's motion was lament, 
 lost by a majority of 258 against 93.* 
 
 In deciding on the difficult question of Parlia- 
 mentary reform, which has so long _, ^ 
 
 ,. ., / J .-ii J- •] Reflections on 
 
 divided, and still divides so many ^j^j^ subject, 
 able men in the country, one impor- 
 tant consideration, to be always kept in mind, is 
 
 Lac, xiii., 40. 
 
 * Pari. Hist., vol. xxxiii., 646, 734, May 26, 1797. Ann. 
 Reg., 1797, 253, 2ol. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 449 
 
 the double effect which any change in the consti- 
 tution of government must always produce, and 
 the opposite consequences with which, according 
 to the temper of the limes, it is likely to be fol- 
 lowed. • In so far as it remedies any experienced 
 grievance, or supplies a practical defect, or con- 
 cedes powers to the people essential to the pres- 
 ervation of freedom, it necessarily does good; 
 in so far as it excites Democratic ambition, con- 
 fers inordinate power, and awakens or fosters 
 passions inconsistent with public tranquillity, it 
 necessarily does mischief, and may lead to the 
 dissolution of society. The expedience of ma- 
 king any considerable change, therefore, depends 
 on the proportions in which these opposite ingre- 
 dients are mingled in the proposed measure, and 
 on the temper of the people among whom it is to 
 take place. If the real grievance is great, and 
 the public disposition unruffled, save by its con- 
 tinuance, unalloyed good may be expected from 
 its removal, and serious peril from a denial of 
 change; if the evil is inconsiderable or imagi- 
 nary, and the people in a state of excitement from 
 other causes, concession to their demands will 
 probably lead to nothing but increased confusion 
 and more extravagant expectations. Examples 
 exist on both sides of the rule : the gradual rel- 
 axation of the fetters of feudal tyranny, and the 
 emancipation of the boroughs, led to the glories 
 of European civilization; while the concession 
 of Charles I., extorted by the vehemence of the 
 Long Parliament, brought that unhappy monarch 
 to the block ; the submission of Louis to all the 
 demands of the States-General did not avert his 
 tragic fate ; and the granting of emancipation to 
 the fierce outcry of the Irish Catholics, instead of 
 peace and tranquillity, brought only increased 
 agitation and more vehement pa.ssions to the peo- 
 pled shores of the Emerald Isle. 
 
 Applying these principles to the question of 
 Parliamentary reform as it was then agitated, 
 there seems no doubt that the changes which 
 were so loudly demanded could not have re- 
 dressed any considerable real grievance, or re- 
 moved any prolilic source of discontent, because 
 they could not have diminished, in any great de- 
 gree, the public burdens without stopping the war; 
 and experience has proved in every age that the 
 most Democratic states, so far from being pacific, 
 are the most ambitious of military renown. 
 From a greater infusion of popular power into 
 the legislature, nothing but fiercer wars and ad- 
 ditional expenses could have been anticipated. 
 The concession, if granted, therefore, would 
 neither have been to impatience of suffering npr 
 to the necessities of freedom, but to the desire of 
 power in circumstances where it was not called 
 for ; and such a concession is only thro^ving fuel 
 on the flame. And the event has proved the 
 truth of these principles : reform was refused by 
 the Commons in 1797, and, so far from being 
 either enslaved or thrown into confusion, the na- 
 tion became daily freer and more united, and 
 soon entered on a splendid and unrivalled career 
 of glory; it was conceded by the Commons, in a 
 period of comparative tranquillity, in 1831, and a 
 century will not develop the ultimate effects of 
 the change, which, hitherto at least, has done 
 anything rather than augment the securities of 
 durable liberty. Still less was it called for as a 
 safeguard to real freedom, because, though it 
 was constantly refused for four-and-thirty years 
 afterv/ard, the power of the people steadily in- 
 creased during that period, and at length effected 
 a great Democratic alteration in the Constitution. 
 
 Vol. I.— L l l 
 
 The question of continuing the war again oc- 
 cupied a prominent place in the de- . 
 bates 01 the BrUish Parliament. On for and against 
 the side of the opposition, it was continuing the 
 contended that, after four years of w^''- 
 war, the addition of 200,000,000 to the national 
 debt, and 9,000,000 annually to the taxes, the na- 
 tion was farther than ever liom achieving the 
 objects for which it had been undertaken ; that 
 Holland and Flanders had successively yielded 
 to the arms of the Republic, which, like Antseus, 
 had risen stronger from every fall ; that all the 
 predictions of failure in its resources had only 
 been answered by increased conquests and more 
 splendid victories ; that the minister was not sin- 
 cere in his desire for a negotiation, or he would 
 have proposed very different terms from those 
 actually offered, and to which it was impossible 
 to expect that a victorious enemy would accede ; 
 that the real object, it was evident, was only to 
 gain time, to put France apparently in the wrong, 
 and throw upon its government the blame of 
 continuing hostilities,* which had been unfortu- 
 nately gained through the diplomatic skill evin- 
 ced by the British ministers in the course of a ne- 
 gotiation begun with the most hollow intentions. 
 
 Mr. Pitt lamented the sudden and unforeseen 
 stop put to the negotiations, by M'hich he had 
 fondly hoped that a termination would be put to 
 a contest into which we had been unwillingly 
 dragged. This failure was a subject of regret 
 and disappointment, but it was regret without 
 despondency, and disappointment without de- 
 spair. " We wish for peace," said he, " but on 
 such terms as will secure its real blessings, and. 
 not serve as a cover merely to secret preparations 
 for renewed hostilities ; we may expect to see, 
 as the result of the conduct we have pursued, 
 England united and France divided; we have 
 offered peace on the condition of giving up all our 
 conquests to obtain better terms for our allies; 
 but our offers have been rejected, our ambas- 
 sador insulted, and not even the semblance of 
 terms offered in return. In these circumstances, 
 then, are we to persevere in the war with a 
 spii'it and energy worthy of the English name, 
 or to prostrate ourselves at the feet of a haughty 
 and supercilious republic, to do what they re- 
 quire, and submit to all they shall impose 1 I 
 hope there is not a hand in his majesty's councils 
 which would sign the proposals, that there is not 
 a heart in the hotise that would sanction the 
 measure, nor an individual in the British do- 
 minions who would serve as cotu'ier on the 
 occasion. "t 
 
 Parliament having determined, by a great ma- 
 jority in both houses, to continue „ ,. , 
 ■li i ^ .,1 . i- Supplies voted 
 the contest with vigour, supplies f^r the year. 
 
 were voted proportioned to the mag- 
 nitude of the armaments which were required. 
 The sums for the expenses of the war, in two 
 successive budgets, amounted, exclusive of the 
 interest of the debt, to i:4''2,800,000. In this im- 
 mense aggregate were included two loans, one 
 of i:i8,000,060 and another of ill 6,000,000, be- 
 sides an imperial loan of j:2,500,000, guaranteed 
 by the British government. To defray the in- 
 terest of these loans, new taxes, to the amount 
 of £3,400,000, were imposed. The land-forces 
 voted for the year were 195,000 men, of whom 
 61,000 were in the British islands, and the re- 
 
 * Pari. Hist., vol. xxxii., 30th Dec, 1796. Ann. Reg., 
 1797. 132. 
 
 t Pari. Hist., vol. xxxii., 1796, Dec. 30. Ann. Reg., 
 1797, 153. 
 
450 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXII. 
 
 mainder in the colonial dependancies of the Em- 
 pire. The ships in commission were 124 of the 
 line, eighteen of filly guns, 180 frigates, and 184 
 sloops. This great force, however, being scat- 
 tered over the whole globe, could hardly be as- 
 sembled in considerable strength at any particu- 
 lar point ; and hence, notwithstanding the mag- 
 nitude of the British navy upon the whole, they 
 ■were generally inferior to their enemies in every 
 engagement.* 
 
 On the other hand, the naval forces of France 
 Maval prepara- and her allies had now become veiy 
 tions of France considerable. Nowise discouraged 
 and Spain. by the unfortunate issue of the pre- 
 vious attempt against Ireland, the indefatigable 
 Truguet was combining the means of bringing 
 an overwhelming force into the Channel. Twen- 
 ty-seven ships of the line were to proceed from 
 the Spanish shores, raise the blockade of all the 
 French harbours, and unite with the Dutch fleet 
 from the Texel in the Channel, where they ex- 
 pected to assemble sixty -five or seventy ships of 
 the line, a force much greater than any which 
 England could oppose to them in that quarter. 
 To frustrate these designs, she had only eighteen 
 ships of the line, under Lord Bridport, in the 
 Channel, fifteen under Admiral Jarvis, ofi' Co- 
 Tunna, and sixteen under Admiral Duncan, ofi" 
 the Texel, in all forty-nine : a force greatly in- 
 ferior to those of the enemy if they had been all 
 joined together, and sufficient to demonstrate by 
 what a slender thread the naval supremacy of 
 England was held, when the victories of France 
 enabled her to combine against these islands all 
 the maritime forces of Europe.f 
 
 But great as this peril was, it was rendered in- 
 comparably more alarming by a ca- 
 the'ileet'" ^^mity of a kind and in a quarter 
 where it was least expected. This 
 "was the famous mutiny in tlie fleet, which, at the 
 verj' time that the enemies of England were 
 most formidable, and her finances most embar- 
 rassed, threatened to deprive her of her most 
 trusty defenders, and brought the state to the very 
 verge of destruction.! 
 
 Unknown to government, or at least without 
 their having taken it into serious consideration, 
 a feeling of discontent had for a ver}' long period 
 prevailed in the British navy. This was, no 
 doubt, pailly broughi to maturity by the Demo- 
 cratic and turbulent spirit which had spread from 
 France through the adjoining states; but it had 
 its origin in a variety of real grievances which 
 existed, and must, if unredressed, have sooner or 
 later brought on an explosion. The sailors com- 
 Ori<nn of the plained with reason, that, while all 
 discontents in the articles of life had more than 
 the navy. doubled in price, their pay had not 
 been augmented since the reign of Charles II. ; 
 that prize-money was vmequally distributed, and 
 an undue proportion given to the ofilcers; that 
 discipline was maintained with excessive and 
 undue severity, and that the conduct of the offi- 
 cers towards the men was harsh and revolting. 
 These evils, long complained of, were rendered 
 more exasperating by the inflammatory acts of 
 a number of persons of superior station, whom 
 the general distress arising from commercial em- 
 barrassment had driven into the navy, and who 
 persuaded the sailors that, by acting unani- 
 mously and decidedly, they would speedily ob- 
 tain redress of their grievances. The influence 
 
 ♦ Ann. Reg., 1797, 12S, 132. Chron., 3. 
 t Ann. Re?., 1797, 94, 95. .lom., x., 195. 
 t Ibid. Join., X., 196, 197. 
 
 of these new entrants appeared in the secrecy 
 and ability with which the measures of the 
 malecontents were taken, and the general exten- 
 sion of the conspiracy, before its existence was 
 known to the oincers of the fleet.* 
 
 The prevalence of these discontents was made 
 known to Lord Howe and the Lords First breaks 
 of the Admiralty by a variet}' of o>it in the 
 anonymous communications du- t;*^'""!^! A*"®*' 
 ring the whole spring of 1797, but they met with 
 no attention ; and, upon inquiry at the captains 
 of vessels, they all declared that no mutinous dis- 
 position existed on board of their respective 
 ships. Meanwhile, however, a vast con.spira- 
 cy, unknown to them, was already organized, 
 which was brought to maturity on the returii 
 of the Channel fleet to port in the beginning of 
 April ; and on the signal being ma& 
 from the aueen Charlotte, by Lord ^thApn].. 
 Bridport, to weigh anchor, on the 15th of that 
 month, instead of obeying, its crew gave three 
 cheers, which were returned by every vessel in 
 the fleet, and the red flag of mutiny was hoisted 
 on eveiy ma.sthead.t 
 
 In this perilous crisis, the officers of the fleet 
 exerted themselves to the utmost to Perfect order 
 bring back their crews to a state of maintained 
 obedience, but all their efforts were by the insur-- 
 in vain. Meanwhile, the fleet be- 8^"'^. 
 ing completely in possession of the insurgents, 
 they used their power firmly, but with humanity 
 and moderation; order and discipline were uni- 
 versally observed ; tlie most scnipulous attention 
 was paid to the officers; those most obnoxious 
 were sent ashore without molestation ; delegates 
 were appointed from all the ships to meet in 
 Lord Howe's cabin, an oath to support the com- 
 mon cause administered to every man in the 
 fleet, and ropes reeved to the yardarm of every 
 vessel, as a signal of the punishment that would 
 be inflicted on those that betrayed it. Three- 
 days afterward, two petitions were for- 
 warded, one to the Admiralty, and one to P"" ' 
 the House of Commons, drawn up in the most 
 respectful and even touching terms, declaring 
 their unshaken loyalty to their king and countr}', 
 but detailing the grievances of which they com- 
 plained : that their pay had not been augmented 
 since the reign of Charles II., though every arti- 
 cle of life had advanced at least one third in val- 
 ue; that the pensions of Chelsea were £\Z^ 
 while those of Greenwich still remained at £l\ 
 that their allowance of provision was insuffi- 
 cient, and that the pay of wounded seamen was 
 not continued till they were cured or discharged.? 
 
 This unexpected mutiny produced the utmost 
 alarm both in the country and the -pj^^ demands- 
 government; and the Board of Ad- ofthefleetare 
 miralty was immediately transfer- granted by the 
 red to Portsmouth, to endeavour to go^'eriment. 
 appease it. Earl Spenser hastened to the spot, 
 and after some negotiation, the demands of the 
 fleet were acceded to by the Admiralty, it being- 
 agreed that the pay of able-bodied seamen should 
 be raised to a shilling a day; that of petty offi- 
 cers and ordinary seamen in the same propor- 
 tion, and the Greenwich pension augmented to 
 ten pounds. This, however, the seamen refused 
 to accept, unless it was ratified by royal procla- 
 mation and act of Parliament; the red 
 flag, which had been struck, wasrehoist- '"'"'^y- 
 ed, and the fleet, after subordination had been in 
 some degree restored, again broke out into open 
 
 ♦ Ann. Reg.. 1797. 207, 29S, 209. Jom., x., 202. 
 
 t Ann. Ueg., 208, 209. i Ibid., 1797, 299. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 451 
 
 mutiny. Government, upon this, sent down 
 Lord Howe to reassure tlie mutineers, and con- 
 vince them of tiie good faith with which they 
 were animated. The personal weight of this il- 
 lustrious man, the many years he had command- 
 ed the Channel fleet, the recollection of his glori- 
 A d L d °^^ victory at its head, all conspi- 
 
 Howeatlength red to induce the sailors to listen to 
 succeeds in le- his representations ; and, in conse- 
 storiug subor- quence of his assurance that gov- 
 dmatioa. ernment would faithfully keep its 
 
 promises, and grant an unlimited amnesty for the 
 past, the whole lieet returned to its duty, and a 
 few days afterward put to sea, amounting to 
 twenty-one ships of the line, to resume the block- 
 ade of Brest harbour.* 
 
 The bloodless termination of this revolt, and 
 Alarming the concession to the seamen of what all 
 mutiny at felt to be their just demands, diti'used a 
 the Nore. general joy throughout the nation ; but 
 this satisiaction was of short duration. On the 
 Ma 22 '^'^'^ '^^ May, the fleet at the Nore, forni- 
 
 *^ ■ ing part of Lord Duncan's squadron, 
 broke out into open mutiny, and on the 6lh of 
 J g June they were joined by all the vessels 
 of that fleet, from the blockading station 
 off the Texel, excepting his own line-ot-battle 
 ship and two frigates. These ships drew them- 
 selves up in order of battle across the Thames, 
 stopped all vessels going up or down the river, 
 appointed delegates and a provisional govern- 
 ment for the fleet, and compelled the ships, whose 
 crews M'ere thought to be wavering, to take their 
 station in the middle of the formidable array. 
 At the head of the insurrection was a man of 
 the name of Parker, a seaman on board the 
 Sandwich, who assumed the title of President 
 of the Floating Republic, and was distinguished 
 by undaimted resolution and no small siiare of 
 ability. Their demands related chiefly to the 
 unequal distribution of prize-money, which had 
 been overlooked by the Channel mutineers ;t 
 but they went so far in other respects, and were 
 couched in such a menacing strain, as to be 
 deemed totally inadmissible by government. 
 
 At the intelligence of this alarming insurrec- 
 Dreadful con- tion, the Utmost consternation seized 
 sternation m all classes in the nation. Every- 
 London. thing Seemed to be failing at once ; 
 
 their armies had been defeated, the bank had 
 su.spended payment, and now the fleet, the pride 
 ancl glory of England, seemed on the point of 
 deserting the national colours. The citizens of 
 London dreaded a stoppage of the colliers and 
 all the usual supplies of the metropolis ; the pub- 
 lic creditors apprehended the speedy dissolution 
 of government, and the cessation of their wont- 
 ed payments from the treasury. Despair seized 
 upon the firmest hearts ; and such was the gen- 
 eral panic, that the three per cents, were sold as 
 low as forty-five, after having been nearly one 
 hundred before the commencement of the war. 
 Never, during the whole contest, was the con- 
 sternation so great, and never was England pla- 
 ced so near the verge of destroction.l 
 
 Fortunately for Great Britain, and the cause 
 Firmness of of freedom throughout the world, a 
 the kin? and monarch was on the throne whose 
 government, firmness no danger could shake, and 
 a minister at the helm whose capacity was equal 
 to any emergency. Perceiving that'the success 
 of the mutineers in the Channel fleet had aug- 
 
 * Ann. Re?., 1797, 211. Jom., x., 203, 204. 
 + Ann. Re?., 1797. 214, 215. Jom., i., 205. 
 t Ann. Reg., 1797, 215, 217. 
 
 mented the audacity of the sailors, and given 
 rise to the present tbrmidable insurrection, and 
 conscious that the chief real grievances had 
 been redressed, government resolved to make a 
 stand, and adopted the most energetic measures 
 to face the danger. Ail the buoys at the mouth 
 of the Thames were removed ; Sheerness, which, 
 was menaced with a bombardment from the in- 
 surgent ships, was garrisoned with four thou- 
 sand men ; redhot balls were kept in constant 
 readiness ; the fort of Tilbury was armed with 
 100 pieces of heavy cannon ; and a chain of gun- 
 boats sunk to debar the access to the harbour. 
 These energetic measures restored the public 
 confidence ; the nation rallied round a monarch, 
 and an administration who were not wanting to 
 themselves in this extremity ; and all the armed 
 men, sailors, and merchants in London volun- 
 tarily took an oath to stand by their country in 
 this eventful crisis.* 
 
 The conduct of Parliament on this tr)'ing oc- 
 casion was worthy of its glorious ^, , 
 history. The revolt of the fleet was ^f P^^i^:" 'nt! 
 tormally commimicated to both 
 houses by the king on the 1st of Jime, and im- 
 mediately taken into consideration. The great- 
 er part of the opposition, and especially Mr. 
 Fox, at first held back, and seemed rather dispo- 
 sed to turn the public danger into the means of 
 overturning the administration ; but Mr. Sheri- 
 dan came nobly forward, and threw the weight 
 of his great name and thrilling eloquence into 
 the balance in favour of his country. " Shall 
 we yield," said he, " to mutinous sailors'? Nev- 
 er; for in one moment we should extinguish, 
 three centuries of glory."t Awakened by this 
 splendid example to more worthy feelings, the 
 opposition at length joined the administration, 
 and a bill for the suppression of the mutiny- 
 passed by a great majority through both hous- 
 es of Parliament. By this act it was Bill a°-ainst 
 declared death for any person to the mutineers 
 hold communication with the sail- passed by a 
 ors in mutiny after the revolt had gr<-at majority, 
 been declared by proclamation ; and all persons 
 who should endeavour to seduce either soldiers 
 or sailors from their duty were liable to the same 
 punishment. This bill was opposed by Sir 
 Francis Burdett and a few of the most violent 
 of the opposition, upon the ground tliat concili- 
 ation and concession were the only course whick 
 could ensure speedy submission. But Mr. Pitt's 
 reply — that the tender feelings of these brave but 
 misguided men were the sole avenue which re- 
 mained open to recall them to their duty, and 
 that a separation from their wives, their children, 
 and their country Avould probably induce the re- 
 turn to duty which could alone obtain a revival 
 of these aflections — was justly deemed conclu- 
 sive, and the bill accordingly passed.: 
 
 Meanwhile a negotiation was conducted by 
 the Admiralty, who repaired, on the first alarm, to 
 Sheerness, and received a deputation from the 
 mutineers ; but their demands were so unreason- 
 able, and urged in so threatening a manner, that 
 they had the appearance of having been brought 
 forward to exclude all accommodation, and jus- 
 tify, by their refusal, the immediate recurrence 
 to extreme measures. These parleys, however, 
 gave government time to sow dissen- xhe insur- 
 sion among the insurgents, by repre- gents are 
 senting the hopeless nature of the con- divided. 
 
 * Ann. Re?.. 1797, 216, 217. Jom.', x., 206. 
 
 t Pari. Delrates, xxxiii., 802, 803. 
 
 I Pari. Dub., xxxiii., 816, 817. Ann. Reg., 1797, 218, 219, 
 
452 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXII. 
 
 test with the whole nation in which they were 
 engaged, and the unreasonable nature of the de- 
 mands on which they insisted. By degrees they 
 became sensible that they had engaged in a des- 
 perate enterprise ; the whole sailors on board 
 Patriotic con- the Channel fleet gave a splendid 
 duct of the proof of genuine patriotism, by rep- 
 Channel fleet, robating their proceedings, and ear- 
 nestly imploring them to return to their duty. 
 Their remonstrance, coupled with the energetic 
 conduct of both Parliament and government, and 
 the generaldisapprobation of the nation, gradu- 
 ally checked the spirit of insubordination. On 
 the 9th of June two ships of the line slipped their 
 cables and abandoned the insurgents, amid a 
 heavy fire from the whole line ; on the I3th, 
 three other sail of the line and two frigates open- 
 ly left them, and took rel'uge under the cannon of 
 Sheemess ; on the following day, several others 
 followed their example ; and at length, on the 
 The mutineers ^^^^' '^'« "'^'^^^^ remaining ships 
 at length sub- Struck the red flag ot mutiny, and 
 mit. Parker is the communication between the 
 tried and exe- ocean and the metropolis was re- 
 ''"*^"- stored. Parker, the leader of the 
 
 insurrection, was seized on board his own ship, 
 and, after a solemn trial, condemned to death, 
 which he underwent with great firmness, ac- 
 knowledging the justice of his sentence, and ho- 
 ping only that mercy would be extended to his 
 associates. Several of the other leaders of the 
 revolt were found guilty and executed ; but some 
 escaped from on board the prison-ship and got 
 safe to Calais, and a large number, still under 
 sentence of death, were pardoned by royal proc- 
 lamation, after the glorious victory of Camper- 
 down.* 
 
 The suppression of this dangerous revolt with 
 . , . , , so little bloodshed, and the extrication 
 conduct of of the nation from the greatest peril in 
 Mr. Pitt on which it had been placed since the 
 this occa- Spanish Armada, is the most glorious 
 sion. event in the reign of George III. and 
 
 in the administration of Pitt.t The conduct 
 adopted towards the insurgents may be regarded 
 as a masterpiece of political wisdom ; and the 
 happiest example of that union of firmness and 
 hiimanity, of justice and concession, which can 
 alone bring a government safely through such a 
 crisis. By at once conceding all the just de- 
 mands of the Channel fleet, and proclaiming a 
 general pardon for a revolt which had too much 
 ground for its justification, they deprived the dis- 
 affected of all real causes of complaint, and de- 
 tached from their cause all the patriotic portion 
 of the navy, while, by resolutely withstanding 
 the audacious demands of the Nore mutineers, 
 they checked the spirit of Democracy which had 
 arisen out of those very concessions themselves. 
 For such is the singular combination of good 
 and bad principles in human nature, and such 
 the disposition of man, on the least opening being 
 aflxirded, to run riot, that not only do our virtues 
 border upon vices, but even from acts of justice 
 
 * Ann. Ree., 1797,216,217. .lorn., x., 207. 208. 
 
 ■f The mupnaiiiiiious conduct of the British government 
 on this occasion was fully appreciated on the Continent. 
 " Let us fiiriEre to ourselves," says Prince Ilardenberg-, 
 " Richard Parker, a common sailor, the leader of the revolt, 
 takina, at Sheerness, the title of Admiral of the Fleet, 
 and the fleet itself, consistins^ of seven sail of the line and 
 four frigates, assuming the title of the Floating Republic; 
 and, nevertheless, recollect that the Eualish, but recently 
 recovered from a financial crisis, remained undannted in 
 presence of such a revolt, and did not virithdiaw one vessel 
 from the blockade of Brest. Cadiz, or the Texel I It was the 
 firmness of ancient Rome." — Hard., iv., 432. 
 
 the most deplorable consequences frequently 
 flow ; and unless a due display of firmness ac- 
 company concessions, dictated by a spirit of hu- 
 manity, they 100 often are imputed to fear, and 
 increase the very turbulent spirit they were in- 
 tended to remove. 
 
 Admiral Duncan's conduct at this critical 
 juncture was above all praise. He Glorious firm- 
 was with his fleet, blockading the nessofAdmi- 
 Texel, when intelligence of the in- i-ai Duncan at 
 surrection was received, and imme- ""^ crisis, 
 diately four ships of the line deserted to the mu- 
 tineers, leaving him with an inferior force in 
 presence of the enemy. They were speedily fol- 
 lowed by several others ; and at length the admi- 
 ral, in his own ship, with two frigates, was left 
 alone on the station. In this extremity his firm- 
 ness did not forsake him : he called his crew on 
 deck, and addressed them in one of those speech- 
 es of touching and manly eloquence, so well 
 known in antiquity, which at once melts the hu- 
 man heart.* His crew was dissolved in tears, 
 and declared, in the most energetic manner, their 
 unshaken loyalty, and resolution to abide by him 
 in life or death. Encouraged by this heroic con- 
 duct, he declared his determination to maintain 
 the blockade, and, undismayed by the defection 
 of so large a part of his squadron, remained olT 
 the Texel with his little but faithful remnant. 
 By stationing one of the ships in the offing, and 
 frequently making signals, as if to the remainder 
 of the fleet, he succeeded in deceiving the Dutch 
 admiral, who imagined that the vessels in sight 
 were only the inshore squadron, and kept his 
 station until the remainder of his ships joined 
 him after the suppression of the insurrection.t 
 
 It was naturally imagined at the time that this 
 formidable mutiny was instigated by .j.},,, mutiny 
 the arts of the French government, was totally 
 But though they were naturally high- unconnected 
 ly elated at this unexpected piece of ^v"'-' France. 
 
 * " My Lads, — I once more call you together, with a sor- 
 rowful heart, from what I have lately seen of the disaffec- 
 tion of the fleets ; I call it disaffection, for they have no 
 grievances. To be deserted by my fleet in the face of the 
 enemy, is a disgrace which, 1 believe, never before happen- 
 ed to a Bntish admiral, nor could I have supposed it possi- 
 ble. My g^reatest comfort, under God, is, that 1 have been 
 supported by the officers, seamen, and marines of this ship, 
 for which, with a heart overflowing with gratitude, I request 
 you to accept my sincere thanks. I flatter myself much 
 good may result from your example, by bringing those de- 
 luded people to a sense of their duty, which they owe not 
 only to their king and country, but to themselves. 
 
 " The British navy has ever been the support of that 
 liberty which has been handed down to us from our ances- 
 tors, and which, I trust, we shall maintain to the latest pos- 
 terity ; and that can only be done by unanimity and obedi- 
 ence. The ship's company, and others, who have distin- 
 guished themselves by their loyalty and good order, deserve 
 to be, and doubtless will be, the favourites of a grateful na- 
 tion. They will also have from their inward feelings a 
 comfort which will be lasting, and not like the floating and 
 false confidence of those who have swerved from their duty. 
 
 " It has often been my pride with you to look into the 
 Texel. and see a foe which dre.aded coining out to meet us. 
 My pride is now humbled indeed ! my feelings cannot easily 
 be expressed. Our cup has overflowed, and made us wan- 
 ton. The all-wise Providence has given us this check as a 
 warning, and I hope we shall improve by it. On Him, then, 
 let us trust, where our only security is to be found. I find 
 there are many good men among us : for my own part, I 
 have had full confidence in all this ship, and once more beg 
 to express my approbation of your conduct. 
 
 " May God, who has thns far conducted you, continue to 
 do so ; and may the British navy, the glory and support of 
 OUT country, be restored to its wonted splendour, and be not 
 only the bulwark of Britain, but the terror of the world. 
 But this can only be effected by a strict adherence to our 
 duly and obedience ; and let us pray that the Almighty God 
 may keep us all in the right way of thinking. God bless 
 you all '"—Ann. Rr?., 1797. 214. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1797, 214. Jom., x., 2U. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 453 
 
 good fortune, and anxious to turn it to the best 
 advantage, and though the revolutionary spirit 
 ■which was abroad was unquestionably one cause 
 of the commotion, there is no reason to believe 
 that it arose trom the instigation of the Directory, 
 or was at all connected with any treasonable or 
 seditious projects. On the contrary, after the 
 minutest investigation, it appeared that the griev- 
 ances complained of were entirely of a domestic 
 character, that the hearts of the sailors were, 
 throughout, true to their country, and that, at 
 the very time vvdien they were blockading the 
 Thames in so menacing a manner, they would 
 have Ibught the French fleet with the same spirit 
 as was afterward evinced in the glorious vic- 
 tory of Camperdown.* 
 
 The ultimate consequences of this insurrec- 
 tion, as of most other popular commotions which 
 originate in real grievances, and are candidly 
 but firmly met by government, were highly bene- 
 ficial. The attention of the cabinet was forcibly 
 turned to the sources of discontent in the navy, 
 and from that to the corresponding causes and 
 grievances in the army, and the result was a se- 
 ries of changes which, in a very great degree, 
 improved the condition of officers and men in j 
 both services. The pay of the common soldiers 
 was raised to their present standard of a shilling i 
 a day,t and those admirable regulations were 
 soon after adopted in regard to pensions, prize- 
 money, and retired allowances, which have just- 
 ly endeared the memory of the Duke of York 
 and Lord Melville to the privates of the army 
 and navy. 
 
 But, whatever may have been the internal dis- 
 sensions of the British fleet, never 
 If v!aceut.^* did it appear more terrible and irre- 
 sistible to its foreign enemies than 
 during this eventful 5'ear. Early in February, 
 the Spanish fleet, consisting of twenty-seven 
 ships of the line and twelve fingates, put to sea, 
 •with the design of steering for Brest, raising the 
 blockade of that harbour, forming a junction with 
 the Dutch fleet, and clearing the Channel of the 
 British squadron. This design, the same as that 
 which Napoleon afterward adopted in 1805, was 
 defeated by one of the most memorable victories 
 ever recorded even in the splendid annals of the 
 English navy. Admiral Jarvis, who was sta- 
 tioned off the coast of Portugal, had, by the great- 
 est efforts, repaired various losses which his fleet 
 had sustained during the storms of winter, and 
 at this period lay in the Tagus with fifteen sail 
 of the line and six frigates. The moment he 
 heard of the enemy's having sailed, he instantly 
 put to sea, and was cruising off Cape St. Vin- 
 cent when he received intelligence of their ap- 
 proach, and immediately prepared for battle. 
 
 He drew up his fleet in two lines, and, bearing 
 down before the wind, succeeded in engaging the 
 enemy, who were very loo.sely scattered, and yet 
 straggling in disorderly array, in close combat, 
 before they had time to form in regular order of 
 battle. Passing boldly through the centre of 
 iheir fleet, the British admiral doubled with his 
 whole force upon nine of the Spanish ships, and 
 by a vigorous cannonade drove them to leeward, 
 so as to prevent their taking any part in the en- 
 gagement which followed. The Spanish admi- 
 ral, upon this, endeavoured to regain the lost part 
 of his fleet, and was wearing round the rear of 
 the British lines, when Commodore Nelson, who 
 
 * Ann. Reg , 1797, 219, 221. .lorn., x., 220. 
 t Ann. Re^., 1797, 222 ; and State Papers, 242. 
 
 wasm the sternmost ship, perceiving F,,,t3ppear- 
 his design, disregarded his orders, ence of Nel- 
 stood directly towards him, and pre- sou and Col- 
 cipitated himself into the very mid- '"'swoud. 
 die of the hostile squadron. Bravely seconded 
 by Captains Collingwood and Troubridge, he 
 ran his ship, the Captain, of seventy-four guns, 
 between two Spanish three-deckers, the Santissi- 
 ma Trinidada, of 136 guns, commanded by Ad- 
 miral Cordova, and the San Josef, of 112, and 
 succeeded, by a tremendous fire to the right and 
 left, in compelling the former to strike, although 
 it escaped in consequence of Nelson not being 
 able, in the confusion of so close a fight, to take 
 possession of his noble prize. The action, on 
 the part of these gallant men, continued for near- 
 ly an hour with the utmost fury against fearful 
 odds, which were more than compensated by the 
 skill of the British sailors and the rapidity of 
 their fire. Meanwhile Collingwood engaged 
 the Salvador del Mundo, of 112 guns ; the action 
 began when the two ships were not more than 
 fifty yards apart, but such was the tremendous 
 eflect of the Englishman's broadsides, that in a 
 quarter of an hour tlie Spanish three-decker 
 struck her colours, and her firing ceased; upon 
 Avhich, that noble officer, disdaining to take pos- 
 session of beaten enemies, and seeing his old 
 messmate. Nelson, ahead and hard pressed by 
 greatly superior forces, passed on, and the Sal- 
 vador, relieved from her antagonist, again hoist- 
 ed her colours and recommenced the action, but 
 was again compelled to strike, and finally ta- 
 ken possession of by one of the ships which fol- 
 lowed.* Collingwood immediately came along- 
 side the San Isidro, seventy-four, so close that a 
 man might leap from the one to the other, the two 
 vessels engaging thus at the muzzles of their 
 guns. The combat was not of long duration ; in. 
 ten minutes the Spaniard struck, and was taken 
 possession of by the Lively frigate, to whom the 
 admiral made signal to secure the prize. 
 
 Though Collingwood had thus already forced 
 two Spanish line-of-battle ships, one of which 
 was a three-decker, to strike to him, with seven- 
 ty-four guns only, yet he was not contented with 
 his achievement, but pushed on to relieve Nel- 
 son, who was now engaged with the San Nicho- 
 las and San Josef on one side, and the Santissi- 
 ma Trinidada, a huge four-decker of 136 guns, 
 on the other. So close did he approach the for- 
 mer of these vessels, that, to Use his own words, 
 you " could not put a bodkin between them," and 
 the shot from the English ship passed through 
 both the Spanish vessels, and actually struck 
 Nelson's balls from the other side. After a short 
 engagement, the Spaniard's fire ceased on that 
 quarter; and Collingwood, seeing Nelson's ship 
 effectually succoured, passed on, and engaged 
 the Santissima Trinidada, which already had 
 been assailed by several British ships in succes- 
 sion. No sooner was Nelson relieved by Col- 
 lingwood's fire, than, resuming his wonted ener- 
 gy, he boarded the San Nicholas, of seventy-four 
 guns, and speedily hoisted the British colours on 
 the poop ; and, finding that the prize was severe- 
 ly galled by a fire from the San Josef, of 112 
 guns, pushed on across it to its gigantic neigh- 
 bour, himself leading the way, and exclaiming, 
 "Westminster Abbey or victory!" Nothing 
 could resist such enthusiastic courage; the Span- 
 ish admiral speedily hauled down his colours, 
 
 * Nelson's Narrative. Collingwood, i., 53. CoUing- 
 wood's Mem., i., 47, 48. Brenton, i., 340, 341. Southey's 
 Nelson,!,, 170, 174. 
 
454 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXII. 
 
 presenting his sword to Nelson on his own quar- i armament by little more than half their number, 
 ter-deck,* while the English ship lay a perfect and the evident superiority of skill and seaman- 
 wreck beside its tv.o noble prizes. ship which it evinced in the British navy, filled 
 While Nelson andCollingwood were thus pre- all Europe with astonishment, and demonstrated 
 cipitating themselves, with unexampled hardi- on what doubtful grounds the Republicans rested 
 hood, into the centre of the enemy's squadron on their hopes ofsubduing this island. The deci.sive 
 the larboard, the other column of the fleet, head- | nature of the victory was speedily evinced by the 
 
 ed by Sir John Jarvis, in the Victor}', of 100 guns, 
 was also engaged in the most gallant and success- 
 ful manner; though, from being the one on the 
 starboard tack, by which the enemy's line was 
 pierced, they were the rear on the larboard, where 
 JVelson had begun his furious attack. The Vic- 
 tory, passing under the stem of the Salvador del 
 Mundo, followed by the Barfleur, Admiral Wald- 
 grave, poured the most destructive broadsides into 
 that huge three-decker; and, passing on, engaged 
 in succession the Santissima Trinidada, whose 
 tremendous fire from her four decks seemed to 
 threaten destruction to every lesser opponent 
 ■which approached her. At length, after having 
 been most gallantly fought by Jarvis and Coi- 
 lingwood, she struck to Captain, now Lord de 
 Saumarez, in the Orion ; but that intrepid officer, 
 being intent on still greater achievements, did not 
 heave-to in ordpr to take possession ; but, think- 
 ing it suflicient that she had hoisted the white 
 flag on her quarter, and the British union-jack 
 over it, passed it, leaving to the ship astern the 
 easy task of taking possession. Unfortunately, 
 in the smoke, this vessel did not perceive the to- 
 ken of surrender, but moved on ahead of the 
 Santissima Trinidada after the admiral, so that 
 the captured Spaniard was encouraged, though 
 dismantled, to try to get off, and ultimately ef- 
 ected her escape. The remainder of the Span- 
 ish fleet now rapidly closed in, and deprived Cap- 
 tain Saumarez of his magnificent prize :t but 
 the British squadron kept possession of the 
 San Josef and Salvador, each of 112 guns, and 
 the San Nicholas and San Isidro, of 74 each. 
 Towards evening the detached part of the Span- 
 ish fleet rejoined the main body, and thereby 
 formed a force still greatly superior to the Brit- 
 ish squadron ; yet such was the consternation pro- 
 duced by the losses they had experienced, and 
 the imposing aspect of the English fleet, that they 
 made no attempt to regain their lost vessels, but, 
 after a distant cannonade, retreated in the night 
 towards Cadiz, whither they v.-ere immediately 
 followed and blockaded by the victors. 
 
 This important victory, which delivered Eng- 
 land Irom all fears of invasion, by preventing 
 the threatened junction of the hostile fleets, was 
 achieved M-ith the loss of only three hundred men, 
 of whom nearly one half were on board Nelson's 
 ship, while above five hundred were lost on board 
 the Spanish ships which struck alone : a signal 
 proof^how much less bloody seafights are than 
 those between land-forces, and a striking exam- 
 ple of the great eflects which sometimes follow 
 an inconsiderable expenditure of human life on 
 that element, compared to the trifling results 
 which attend fields of carnage in military' war- 
 fare.! 
 
 Admiral Jarvis followed the beaten fleet to 
 Great effect Cadiz, whither they had retired in the 
 produced by deepest dejection, and with tarnished 
 this victory, honour. The deleat of so great an 
 
 * Nelson's Narrative. Collingwood, i.. 53. Colling-ivood, 
 i., 48, 49. Soulhev's Nelson, i., 170. James, ii., 46, 51. 
 
 t Jom., li., 48, 64. Ann. Ree., 1797, 94, 93. App. to 
 Chron., 74. Jonn., x., 198. Southey's Nelson, i., 170, 176. 
 James, ii., 46, 63. De Saiimarez's Life, i., 171, 175. Bren- 
 ton, i., 341, 342. X James, ii., 63. 
 
 bombardment of Cadiz on three differ- 
 ent occasions, under the direction of '^^ ^"®^- 
 Commodore Nelson ;♦ and although these attacks 
 were more insulting than hurtful to the Spanish 
 ships, yet they evinced the magnitude of the dis- 
 aster which they had sustained, and inflicted a 
 grievous wound on the pride of the Castilians. 
 
 Horatio Nelson, who bore so glorious a part 
 in these engagements, and was des- gj^h and 
 tined to leave a name immortal in parentage of 
 the rolls of fame, was born at Bimam Nelson. 
 Thorpe, in the county of Norfolk, on the 29th of 
 September, 1758. He early evinced so decided 
 a partiality for a sea life, that, though of a feeble 
 con.stitution, he was sent on shipboard at the 
 age of thirteen. Subsequently he went on a 
 voyage to the Greenland seas, and distinguished 
 himself as a subaltern in various actions during 
 the American war. Early in the Revolutionary 
 contest he was employed in the siege of Bastia, 
 in the island of Corsica, which he reduced: a 
 singular coincidence, that the greatest leaders 
 both at land and sea in that struggle should have 
 first signalized themselves on the same island. 
 After the battle of St. Vincent's and the bom- 
 bardment of Cadiz, he was sent on an expedition 
 against the island of Tenerifl'e; but though the 
 attack, conducted with his wonted courage and 
 skill, was at first successful, and the town for a 
 shoit time Avas in the hands of the assailants, 
 they were ultimately repulsed, with the loss of 
 seven hundred men and Nelson's right arm.t 
 
 Gifted by nature with undaunted courage, in- 
 domitable resolution, and imdecay- 
 ing energy. Nelson was also possess- character. 
 ed of the eagle glance, the quick determination, 
 and coolness in danger, which constitute the 
 rarest qualities of a consummate commander. 
 Generous, open-hearted, and enthusiastic, the 
 whole energies of his soul were concentrated in 
 the love of his countiy ; like the youth in Tacitus, 
 he loved danger itself, not the rewards of courage ; 
 and was incessantly consumed by that passion 
 for great achievements, that sacred fire, which is 
 the invariable characteristic of heroic minds. 
 His soul was constantly striving for great ex- 
 ploits ; generosity and magnanimity in danger 
 were so natural to him, that they arose unbidden 
 on ever}- occasion calculated to call them forth. 
 On one occasion, during a violent storm off" 
 Minorca, Nelson's ship was disabled, and Cap- 
 tain Ball took his vessel in tow. Nelson thought, 
 however, that Ball's ship would be lost if she 
 kept her hold, and deeming his own case des- 
 perate, he seized the speaking trumpet, and with 
 passionate threats ordered Ball to set him loose. 
 But Ball took his own trumpet, and in a solemn 
 voice replied, " I feel confident I can bring you 
 in safe : I therefore must not, and, by the help of 
 Almighty God, I will not leave you." What ho 
 promised he performed, and on arriving in har- 
 bour, Nel.son embraced him as his deliverer, and 
 commenced a friendship which continued for 
 life.t 
 
 His whole life was spent in the service of his 
 
 • Ann. Re?., 1797. 96. Jom., x., 200. 
 
 t Sonthey's Nelson, i.. 195. Ann. Reg., 1797, 98. 
 
 ? Coleridge's French Essay, iv., iii., 249. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 455 
 
 country; his prejudices, and he liad many, were 
 all owing to the excess of patriotic feeling; he 
 annihilated the French navy by fearles>ly fol- 
 lowing up the new system of tactics, plunging 
 headlong into the enemy's fleet, and doubling 
 upon a part of their line, in the same manner as 
 Napoleon practised in battles at land. The his- 
 tory of tiie world has seldom characters so illus- 
 trious to exhibit, and few achievements as mo- 
 mentous to commemorate. But it is to his pub- 
 lic conduct and genius afloat, only, that this trans- 
 cendent praise is due ; on shore he appears in a 
 less favourable light. Vain, undiscerning, im- 
 petuous, he was regardless of his domestic du- 
 ties ; an ardent lover, he was a faithless husband. 
 He was perpetually liable to the delusion of art, 
 and sometimes seduced by the fascination of 
 ■wickedness. These weaknesses, indeed, were 
 owing to the ardent temperament of his mind ; 
 they arose from passions nearly allied to virtue, 
 and to which heroic characters in all ages have, 
 in a peculiar manner, been subject. In one im- 
 happy instance, however, he was betrayed into 
 more serious delinquencies. If a veil could be 
 ■drawn over the transactions at Naples, history 
 would dwell upon him as a spotless hero ; but 
 justice requires that cruelty should never be palli- 
 ated, and the rival of Napoleon shielded from 
 none of the obloquy consequent on the fascina- 
 tion of female wickedness. 
 
 Sir John Jarvis, afterward created Earl St. Vin- 
 Character of cent, one of the greatest and most re- 
 Lord St. Via- nowned admirals that ever appeared 
 cent. jn the British nary, possessed quali- 
 
 ties which, if not so brilliant as those of his illus- 
 trious rival, were not less calculated for great and 
 glorious achievements. He early distinguished 
 himself in his profession, and was engaged with 
 Wolfe in the glorious operations which termina- 
 ted in the capture of Gluebee in the Seven Year's 
 "War. An action which he soon after fought with 
 the Foudroyant, of eighty-four guns, was one of 
 the most extraordinary displays of valour and 
 skill, even in that war so fertile in great exploits. 
 The mutiny which broke out with such violence 
 in the Channel fleet and at the Nore in 1797, had 
 also its ramifications in the fleet under his com- 
 mand, ofT the Spanish coast ; and by the mingled 
 firmness and clemency of his conduct, he suc- 
 ceeded in reducing the most mutinous vessels to 
 obedience with a singularly small effusion of 
 human blood. A severe disciplinarian, strict in 
 his own duties, rigorous in the exaction of them 
 from others, he yet secured the affections both 
 of his ofhcers and men by the impartiality of his 
 decisions, the energy of his conduct, and the per- 
 fect nautical skill which he was known to pos- 
 sess. It is doubtful if even Nelson would have 
 been equal to the extraordinary exertion of vig- 
 our and capacity with which, in a period of time 
 so short as to be deemed impossible by all but 
 himself, he succeeded in fitting out his squadron 
 from the Tagus in February, 1797, in sufficient 
 time to intercept and defeat the Spanish fleet. In 
 the high official duties as first lord of the Ad- 
 miralty, with which he was intrusted in 1802, 
 he exhibited a most praiseworthy zeal and anx- 
 iety for the detection of abuses, and he succeeded 
 dn rooting out many lucrative corruptions which 
 had fastened themselves upon that important 
 branch of the public service, although he yielded 
 with too much facility to that unhappv mania for 
 reducing our establishments, which invariably 
 seizes the English on the return of peace, and 
 has so often exposed to the utmost danger the I 
 
 naval supremacy of Great Britain. But in no- 
 thing, peihaps, was his energy and disinterested 
 character more clearly evinced than in his con- 
 duct in 1798, when he despatched Nelson to the 
 Mediterranean at the head of the best ships in his 
 own fieet, and furnished him with the means of 
 striking a blow destined to eclipse even his own 
 well-earned fame. But these two great men had 
 no jealousy of each other : their whole emulation 
 consisted in mutual eft'orts to serve their coun- 
 try, and none was more willing to concede the 
 highest meed of praise to each other. The mind 
 of the historian, as it has been well observed 
 " weary with recounting the deeds of human 
 baseness, and mortified with contemplating the 
 frailty of illustrious men, gathers a soothing re- 
 freshment from such scenes as these, where 
 kindred genius, exciting only mutual admiration 
 and honest rivalry, gives birth to no feeling of 
 jealousy or envy, and the character which stamps 
 real greatness is found in the genuine value of 
 the mass, as well as in the outward splendour 
 of the die ; the highest talents sustained by the 
 purest virtue ; the capacity of the statesman and 
 the valour of the hero outshone by the magnani- 
 mous heart which beats only to the measures of 
 generosity and justice."* 
 
 Differing in many essential particulars from 
 
 both of these illustrious men, Earl „^_ ,„ 
 
 H,- .. .. J- .• Of Earl Howe, 
 
 owe was one oi the most distm- 
 
 guished men which the English navy ever pro- 
 duced. Of him, perhaps, more truly than any 
 other of its illustrious chiefs may it be said, as 
 of the Chevalier Bayard, that he lived without 
 fear and without reproach. He had the enter- 
 prise and gallant bearing so general in all offi- 
 cers in the naval service of Great Britain; but 
 these qualities in him were combined with cool- 
 ness, firmness, and systematic arrangement, with 
 an habitual self-command and humanity to oth- 
 ers almost unrivalled in those intrusted with su- 
 preme command. In early life he contracted an 
 intimate friendship with General Wolfe, and 
 was employed with him in the expedition against 
 the Isle di'Aix, in Basque Roads, in 1757. 
 "Their friendship," says Walpole, '-was like 
 the union of cannon and gunpowder. Howe, 
 strong in mind, solid in judgment, firm of pur- 
 pose ; Wolfe, quick in conception, prompt in 
 execution, impetuous in action." His coolness 
 in danger may be judged of from one anecdote. 
 When in command of the Channel fleet, after a 
 dark and boisterous night, when the ships were 
 in considerable danger of running foul. Lord 
 Gardner, then third in command, a most intrepid 
 officer, next day went on board the Queen Char- 
 lotte, and inquired of Howe how he had slept, for 
 that he himself had not been able to get any rest 
 from anxiety of mind. Lord Howe replied that 
 he had slept perfectly well ; for, as he had taken 
 every possible precaution before it was dark for 
 the safety of the ship and crew, this conviction 
 set his mind perfectly at ease. In person he was 
 tall and well-proportioned, his countenance of a 
 serious cast and dark, but relaxing at times into 
 a sweet smile, which bespoke the mildness and 
 humanity of his disposition. No one ever con- 
 ducted the stern duties of war with more consid- 
 eration for the sufferings both of his own men 
 and his adversaries, or mingled its heroic courage 
 with a larger share of benevolent feeling. Dis- 
 interested in the extreme, his private charities 
 
 * Lord Brougham's Sketches of Public Characters, 2d 
 series. 
 
456 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXII. 
 
 were unbounded, and in 1798, when government 
 received voluntary gifts for the expenses of the 
 war, he sent his whole annual income, amount- 
 ing to eighteen hundred pounds, to the bank, as 
 his contribution. Such was his humanity and 
 consideration for the seamen under his com- 
 mand, that it was more by the attachment which 
 they bore to him than by any exertion of author- 
 ity, that he succeeded in suppressing, without ef- 
 fusion of blood, the formidable mutiny in the 
 Channel fleet. He was the first of the great 
 school of English admirals, and by his profound 
 nautical skill and long attention to the subject, 
 he first succeeded in reducing to practice that 
 admirable system of tactics to which the unex- 
 ampled triumphs of the war were afterward ow- 
 ing. A disinterested lover of his country, he 
 was entirely exempt from ambition of every 
 kind, and received the rewards with which his 
 sovereign loaded him with gratitude, but with- 
 out desire:* the only complaints he ever made 
 of government were for their neglect of the in- 
 ferior naval officers who had served in his naval 
 exploits. 
 
 The great victory of St. Vincent's entirely dis- 
 Great prepar- Concerted the well-conceived designs 
 ations of the of Truguet for the naval campaign ; 
 Dutch. but later in the season, another ef- 
 
 fort, with an inferior fleet, but more experienced 
 seamen, was made by the Dutch R.epublic. For 
 a veiy long period the naval preparations in 
 Holland had been most extraordinaiy, and far 
 surpassed anything attempted by the United 
 Provinces for above a centurj- past. The stop- 
 page of the commerce of the R^epublic had ena- 
 bled the government to man their vessels with a 
 choice selection both of officers and men ; and 
 from the well-known courage of the sailors, it 
 was anticipated that the contest with the English 
 fleet would be more obstinate and bloody than 
 any which had yet occurred from the commence- 
 ment of the war. De Winter, who commanded 
 the armament, was a stanch Republican, and a 
 man of tried courage and experience. Never- 
 theless, being encumbered with land-forces, des- 
 tined for the invasion of Ireland, he did not at- 
 tempt to leave the Texel till the beginning of 
 October, when the English fleet, having been 
 driven to Yarmouth Roads by stress of weather, 
 _ , ^ the Dutch government gave orders for 
 ' '^ ■ the troops to be disembarked, and the 
 fleet to set sail, and make the best of its way to 
 the harbour of Brest, in order to co-operate in 
 the long-projected expedition against that island, 
 now fermenting with discontent, and containing 
 at least two hundred thousand men organized 
 and ready for immediate rebellion. t 
 
 Admiral Duncan was no sooner apprized by 
 
 the signals of his cruisers that the 
 
 Cam * down Dutch fleet was at sea, than he weigh- 
 
 "" ' ed anchor with all imaginable haste, 
 
 and stretched across the German Ocean with so 
 much expedition, that he got near the hostile 
 squadron before it was out of sight of the shore 
 of Holland. The Dutch fleet consisted of fif- 
 teen ships of the line and eleven frigates ; the 
 English, of sixteen ships of the line and three 
 frigates. Duncan's first care was to station his 
 fleet in such a manner as to prevent the enemy 
 from returning to the Texel; and having done 
 this, he bore down upon his opponents, and hove 
 in sight of them on the following morning, 
 
 * Barrow's Life of Howe, cliap. xii., 432. 
 
 t Vict, et Conq., viii., 271, 274. Wolfe Tone, ii., 197, 201. 
 
 drawn up in order of battle, at the di.stance of 
 nine miles from the coa.st, between Camperdown 
 and Egmont. AVith the same instinctive genius 
 which afterward inspired a similar resolution to 
 Nelson at Aboukir, he gave the signal to break 
 the line, and get between the enemy and the 
 shore ; a movement which was immediately and 
 skilfully executed in two lines of attack, and 
 proved the principal cause of the glorious suc- 
 cess which followed, by preventing their with- 
 drawing into the shallows, out of the reach of the 
 British vessels, \vhich, for the most part, drew 
 more water than their antagonists. Admiral 
 Onslow first broke the line, and commenced a 
 close combat. As he approached the Dutch 
 line, his captain obsen-ed, the enemy were lying- 
 so close that they could not penetrate. " The 
 Monarch will make a passage," replied Onslow, 
 and held on undaunted. The Dutch ship oppo- 
 site gave way to let him pass, and he entered the 
 close-set line. In passing through, he poured 
 one broadside, with tremendous effect, into the 
 starboard ship's stern, and the other with not less 
 into the vice-admiral's bows, whom he imme- 
 diately lay alongside, and engaged at three yards' 
 distance. He was soon followed by Duncan 
 himself, at the head of the second line,* who 
 pierced the centre, and laid himself alongside of 
 De Winter's flag-ship, and shortly the action be- 
 came general, each English ship engaging its 
 adversary, but still between them and the lee- 
 shore. 
 
 De Winter, perceiving the design of the ene- 
 my, gave the signal for his fleet to unite in close 
 order; but from the thickness of the smoke, his 
 order was not generally perceived, and but par- 
 tially obeyed. Notwithstanding the utmo.st efiorts 
 of valour on the part of the Dutch, the superior- 
 ity of English skill and discipline soon appeared 
 in the engagement, yardarm to yardarm, which 
 followed. For three hours Admiral Duncan 
 and De Winter fought within pistol-shot ; but, by 
 degrees, the Dutchman's fire slackened ; his 
 masts fell one by one overboard, amid the loud 
 cheers of the British sailors; and at length he 
 struck his flag, after half his crew were killed or 
 wounded, and his ship incapable of making any 
 farther resistance. De Winter was the only man 
 on his quarter-deck who was not either killed or 
 wounded ; he lamented that, in the midst of the 
 carnage which literally floated the deck of his 
 noble ship, he alone should have been spared.t 
 The Dutch vice-admiral soon after struck to 
 Admiral Onslow, and by four o'clock, eight ships 
 of the line, two of fifty-six grms, and two frigates, 
 were in the hands of the victors. Twelve sail 
 of the line had struck their colours, but, owing to 
 the bad weather which succeeded, nine only were 
 secured.? No less .skilful than brave, Admiral 
 Duncan now gave the signal for the combat to 
 cease and the prizes to be secured, which was 
 done with no little difficulty, as, during the bat- 
 tle, both fleets had drifted Ijefore a tempestuous 
 wind to within five miles of the shore, and were 
 now lying in nine fathoms water. 
 
 * Lord Duncan's Acct., Ifith Oct., 1797. Ann. Reg., 1797, 
 100. Joni , X., 213, 214. Brenton. i. 347, 348. James, ii., 
 69, 70. Vict, et Conq., viii , 271. 275. 
 
 t De Winter and Admiral Duncan dined together in the 
 hitter's ship on the day of the battle, in the most friendly- 
 manner. In the evening they played a rublier at whist, and 
 De Winter was the loser ; npon which he good-humouredly 
 observed, it was rather hard to be beaten twice in one day 
 by the same opponent. — Bbenton, ut supra, and Personal 
 Knowledge. 
 
 i Ann. Reg., 1797, 100, 101. Jom., x., 213, 214. Toul., 
 vi., 242, 243. James, ii., 71, 73. Brenton, i., 348. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 457 
 
 It was owing to this circumstance alone that 
 any of the Dutch squadron escaped; but when 
 the EnglLsh withdrew into deeper water, Admiral 
 Story collected the scattered remains of his fleet, 
 and sought refuge in the Texel, while Duncan 
 returned" with his prizes to Yarmouth Roads. 
 The battle was seen distinctly from the shore, 
 where a vast multitude was assembled, who be- 
 held in silent despair the ruin of the armament 
 on which the national hopes had been so long 
 rested. Towards the conclusion of the action, 
 the Hercules, one of the Dutch ships, was found 
 to be on fire, but it was soon extinguished by the 
 coolness and presence of mind of the crew on 
 board the Triumph, to which she had struck. 
 During the two days of tempestuous weather 
 which ensued, two of the prizes mutinied against 
 the English guard on board, and escaped into the 
 Texel ; and the Delft, a seventy-four, went down 
 astern of the ship which had her in tow. But 
 eight line-of-battle ships and two of filly-six guns 
 were brought into Yarmouth Roads, amid the 
 cheers of innumerable spectators and the trans- 
 ports of a whole nation.* 
 
 This action was one of the most important 
 Immense ef- fought at sea during the Revolutionary 
 feels of this war, not only from the valour dis- 
 victory. played on both sides during the en- 
 
 was in its internal effects that the vast impor- 
 tance of this victory was chiefly made manliest. 
 Despondency was no longer feit ; the threatened 
 invasion of Ireland was laid aside ; Britaia 
 was secure. England now learned to regard 
 without dismay the victories of the French at 
 land, and, secure in her seagirt isle, to trust ia 
 those delenders 
 
 " Whose march is o'er the mountain wave 
 Whose home is on the deep." 
 
 The joy, accordingly, upon the intelligence of 
 this victory, was heartfelt and unexampled, from 
 the sovereign on the throne to the beggar in the 
 hovel. Bonfires and illuminations were univer- 
 sal ; the enthusiasm spread to every breast ; the 
 fire gained every heart, and amid the roar of ar- 
 tillery and the festive light of cities, faction dis- 
 appeared, and discontents sunk into neglect. 
 Numbers date from the rejoicings consequent 
 on this achievement their first acquaintance with 
 the events of life, among whom may be reckon- 
 ed the author, then residing under his paternal 
 roof in a remote parish of Shropshire, whose 
 earliest recollection is of the sheep-roasting and 
 rural festivities which took place on the joyful 
 intelligence being received in that secluded dis- 
 trict. 
 
 The national gratitude was liberally bestowed 
 
 gagement, but the important consequences with on the leaders in these glorious 
 
 which it was attended. The Dutch fought with 
 a courage worthy of the descendants of Van 
 Tromp and De Ruyter, as was evinced by the 
 loss on either part, which, in the British, was one 
 thousand and forty men, and iu the Batavian, one 
 thousand one hundred and sixty, besides the 
 crews of the prizes, who amounted to above six 
 thousand. The appearance of the British ships 
 at the close of the action was very diflerent from 
 what it usually is after naval engagements ; no 
 masts were down, little damage done to the sails 
 or rigging ; like their worthy adversaries, the 
 Dutch fired at the hull of their enemies, which 
 accounts for the great loss in killed and wounded 
 in this well-fought engagement.t The Dutch 
 "were all either dismasted, or so riddled with shot 
 as to be altogether unserviceable. On every 
 side, marks of a desperate conflict were visible. 
 But the contest was no longer equal ; England 
 had quadrupled in strength since the days of 
 Charles II., while the United Provinces had de- 
 clined both in vigour and resources. Britain 
 was now as equal to a contest with the united 
 navies of Europe, as she was then to a war with 
 the fleets of an inconsiderable republic. 
 
 But the effects of this victory, both upon the 
 security and the public spirit of Britain, were in 
 the highest degree important. Achieved, as it 
 had been, by the fleet which had recently struck 
 such terror into every class by the mutiny at the 
 Nore, and coming so soon after that formidable 
 event, it both elevated the national spirit by the 
 demonstration it aSorded how true the patriotism 
 of the seamen still was, and the deliverance from 
 the immediate peril of invasion which it effected, 
 A subscription was immediately entered into for 
 the widows and orphans of those who had fallen 
 in this battle, and it soon amounted to .e5'2,000. 
 The Northern courts, who.se conduct had been 
 dubious previous to this great event, were struck 
 with terror, and all thoughts of reviving the 
 principles of the armed neutrality were laid 
 aside. But great as were the external results, it 
 
 * Brent., i., 354-5. James. 
 
 t James, ii., 70, 71. Auu. Reg., 1797, 101. 
 
 achievements. Sir John Jai-vis re- fZ^JlnM- 
 ceivedthe title of Earl St. Vincent's; miralsDancaa 
 Admiral Duncan that of Viscount ^"^^ Sir John 
 Duncan of Camperdown, and Com- •^^''^'s- 
 modore Nelson that of Sir Horatio Nelson. 
 From these victories may be dated the com- 
 mencement of that concord among all classes, 
 and that resolute British spirit, which never af- 
 terward deserted this country. Her .subsequent 
 victories were for conquest, these were for ex- 
 istence ; from the deepest dejection and an un- 
 exampled accumulation of disasters, she arose 
 at once into security and renown ; the democrat- 
 ic spirit gradually subsided, from the excitation 
 of new passions and the force of more ennobling 
 recollections ; and the rising generation, who 
 began to mingle in public affairs, now sensibly 
 influenced national thought by the display of( 
 the patriotic spirit which had been nursed amid 
 the dangers and the glories of their infant years. 
 The remaining maritime operations of this 
 year are hardly deserving of notice. Abortive de- 
 A descent of fourteen hundred men, scent m Pcm- 
 chiefly composed of deserters and ^^°^^ ^'^y- 
 banditti, in the Bay of Pembroke, in February, 
 intended to distract the attention of the British 
 government from Ireland, the real point of at- 
 tack, met with the result which might have been 
 anticipated, by all the party being taken prison- 
 ers. Early in spring, an expedition, peb. 13. 
 under General Abercromby, captured Capture of 
 the island of Trinidad, with a garri- Tnmdad. 
 son of seventeen hundred men, and a ship of the 
 line in the harbour; but two months af'ter, the 
 same force failed in an attack on Porto Rico ; 
 notwithstanding which, however, the superiority 
 of the British over the navy of their combined 
 enemies was eminently conspicuous during the 
 whole year, both in the Atlantic and Indian 
 Oceans.* 
 
 It was just permitted to the illustrious states- 
 man, to whose genius and foresight the y, , ^ 
 development of the dauntless spirit Mr Burke 
 which led to these glorious conse- 
 
 * Ann. Keg., 1797, 93, 94. Jom., x., 218. 
 
458 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXII. 
 
 quences is mainly, under Providence, to be as- 
 cribed, to witness its results. Mr. Burke, whose 
 health had been irretrievably broken by the death 
 of his son, and who had long laboured under se- 
 vere and increasing: weakness, at length breathed 
 his last at his country .seat of Beaconsfield, on 
 the 9th of July, 1797. His counsels on English 
 politics during his la.st eventful moments were 
 of the same direct, lofty, and uncompromising 
 spirit which had made his voice soimd as the 
 Dote of a trumpet to the heart of England. His 
 last work, the Letters on a Regicide Peace, pub- 
 lished a few months belbre his death, is distin- 
 guished by the same fervent eloquence, profound 
 wisdom, and far-seeing sagacity, which charac- 
 terized his earlier productions on the French 
 Revolution. As his end approached, the vigour 
 of his spirit, if possible, increased; and his pro- 
 phetic eye anticipated, from the bed of death, 
 those glorious triumphs which were destined to 
 immortalize the close of the conflict. "Never," 
 exclaimed he, in his last hours, "never suc- 
 cumb. It is a struggle for your existence as a 
 nation. If you must die, die with the sword in 
 your hand. But I have no fears whatever for 
 the result. There is a salient living principle 
 of energy in the public mind of England, which 
 only requires proper direction to enable her to 
 withstand this or any other ferocious foe. Per- 
 severe, therefore, till this tyranny be overpast."* 
 Thus departed this life, if not in the maturity 
 jj. , of years, at least in the fulness of 
 
 arac er. gjQ,,y^ Edmund Burke. The history 
 of England, prodigal as it is of great men, has no 
 such philosophic statesman to boast; the annals 
 of Ireland, graced though they be with splendid 
 characters, have no such shining name to ex- 
 hibit. His was not the mere force of intellect, 
 the ardour of imagination, the richness of ge- 
 nius ; it was a combination of the three, un- 
 rivalled, perhaps, in any other age or country. 
 Endowed by nature with a powerful understand- 
 ing, an inventive fancy, a burning eloquence, 
 he exhibited the rare combination of these great 
 qualities with deep thought, patient investiga- 
 tion, boundless research. His speeches in Par- 
 liament were not so impressive as those of Mi- 
 •rabeau in the National Assembly, only because 
 they were more profound ; he did not address 
 himself with equal facility to the prevailing feel- 
 ing of the majority. He was ever in advance 
 of his age, and left' to posterity the difficult task 
 of reaching, through pain and suffering, the ele- 
 vation to which he was at once borne on the 
 wings of prophetic genius. Great, accordingly, 
 and deserved, as was his reputation in the age in 
 
 Regicide Peace, ad fin. 
 
 which he lived, it was not so great as it has since 
 become ; and strongly as subsequent times have 
 felt the truth of his principles, they are destined 
 to rise into still more general celebrity in the fu- 
 ture ages of mankind. 
 
 Like all men of a sound intellect, an ardent 
 disposition, and a feeling heart, Mr. Burke was 
 strongly attached to the principles of freedom; 
 and during the American war, when those prin- 
 ciples appeared to be endangered by the conduct 
 ol the English government, he stood forth as an. 
 uncompromising leader of the opposition in 
 Parliament. He was, from the outset, however, 
 the friend of freedom only in conjunction with 
 its indispensable allies, order and property; and 
 the severing of the United States from the Brit- 
 ish Empire, and the establishment of a pure Re- 
 public beyond the Atlantic, appears to have 
 given the first rude shock to his visions of the 
 elevation and improvement of the species, and 
 suggested the painful doubt whether the cause 
 of liberty might not, in the end, be more en- 
 dangered by the extravagance of its supporters 
 than by the efforts of its enemies. These doubts 
 were confirmed by the first aspect of the French 
 Revolution ; and while many of the greatest men 
 of his age were dazzled by the brightness of its 
 morning light, he at once discerned, amid the 
 deceitful blaze, the small black cloud which was 
 to cover the universe with darkness. With the 
 characteristic ardour of his disposition, he in- 
 stantly espoused the opposite side; and in the 
 prosecution of his efforts in defence of order, he 
 was led to profounder principles of political wis- 
 dom than any intellect, save that of Bacon, had 
 reached, and which are yet far in advance of the 
 general understanding of mankind. His was 
 not the instinctive horror at revolution which 
 arises from the possession of power, the preju- 
 dices of birth, or the selfishness of wealth ; on 
 the contrary, he brought to the consideration of 
 the great questions which then divided society, 
 prepossessions only on the other side, a heart 
 long warmed by the feelings of liberty, a dispo- 
 sition enthusiastic in its support, a lifetime spent 
 in its service. He was led to combat the princi- 
 ples of Jacobinism from an early and clear per- 
 ception of their consequences ; from foreseeing 
 that they would infallibly, if successful, destroy 
 the elements of freedom, and, in the end, leave 
 to society, bereft of all its bulwarks, only an old 
 age of slavery and decline. It was not as the 
 enemy, but the friend of liberty, that he was the 
 determined opponent of the Revolution ; and 
 such will ever be the foundation, in character, on 
 which the most resolute, because the most en- 
 lightened and the least selfish, resistance tc Dem- 
 ocratic ascendency will be founded. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 450 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OP 1797 — FALL OF VENICE. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Russia reredes from the contemplated Measures of Catha- 
 rine. — Plans of the Directory. — Bernadotte's and Delnias's 
 Divisions join Najjoleon. — Disposition of his Forces. — 
 Preparations of the Imperiabsts. — Great Spirit mthe He- 
 reditary States. — Napoleon anticipates the Arrival of the 
 Austrian Veterans. — Danger of that Plan. — Description 
 of the Theatre of War. — lis Roads and Rivers. — Napoleon 
 resolves to turn the Austrian Left. — His Proclamation to 
 his Soldiers. — Great Interest excited in Europe by the 
 approaching Contest. — Operations of Massena on the Left. 
 — Passage of the Isonzo by Bernadotte. — Massena makes 
 himself Master of (Jol-de-Tarwis. — Desperate Actions 
 there. — It is finally won by the Republicans. — Raylitch's 
 Division is surrounded and made Prisoners. — Napoleon 
 crosses the Ridge of the Alps. — Occupies Klagenfurth. — 
 Successful Operations of Joubert in the Tyrol. — Despe- 
 rate Action at the Pass of Clausen, which is at length 
 carried. — Joubert advances to Sterzing. — General Alarm 
 in the Tyrol. — He marches across to join Napoleon at 
 Klagenfurth. — Results of these Actions. — Perilous Condi- 
 tion, notwithstanding, of Napoleon. — He in Consequence 
 makes Proposals of Peace to the Archduke, and at the 
 same time severely presses the retreating Imperialists. — 
 They are defeated at the Gorge of Neumarkt. — Napoleon 
 pushes on to Judembourg, and the Archduke retires to- 
 wards Vienna. — Terror excited there by these Disasters. — 
 Preliminaries are agreed to at Leoben. — Disastrous State 
 of the French in Croatia and Tyrol. — Extreme Danger 
 of Napoleon. — C(mditious of ths Preliminaries. — Enor- 
 mous Injustice of this Treaty as far as regards Venice. — 
 State of Venice at this Period. — Its long-continued De- 
 cline. — Rapid Progress of Democratic Ideas in the Cities of 
 the Venitian Territory, which are secretly encouraged 
 by Napoleon. — Democratic Insurrection breaks out m the 
 Venitian Provinces, which soon spreads to all the chief 
 Towns. — Consternation at Venice. — The Senate send 
 Deputies to Napoleon. — His Duplicity, and refusal to act 
 against the Insurgents, or let the Veuitians do so. — Ve- 
 nitians at last resolve to crush the Insurrection. — Hos- 
 tilities break out between the two Parties. — The Coun- 
 ter-Insurrection spreads immensely. — Continued Inde- 
 cision of the Venitian Senate in regard to France. — Af- 
 fected Anger of Napoleon. — Massacre at Verona, which 
 is speedily suppressed by the French Troops. — Massacre 
 at Lido. — Efforts of the Venitian Senate to avert the 
 Storm. — Resources still at the Command of Venice. — 
 War declared by Napoleon against Venice. — Manifes- 
 toes on both Sides. — Universal Revolt of the Continental 
 Towns of the Venitian Territory. — Anarchy in Venice it- 
 self. — The Senate abdicate their Authority. — The Pop- 
 ulace still endeavour to resist the Subjugation of the 
 State ; but Venice falls. — Joy of the Democratic Party. 
 — Treaty of the 16th of May between Napoleon and Ven- 
 ice. — State of the Armies on the Rhine. — Passage of that 
 River at Diersheim, and Defeat of the Austrians. — Op- 
 erations cut short by the Armistice of Leoben. — Com- 
 niencement of Operations by Hoche on the Lower Rhine. 
 — Passage of that River forced at Neuwied. — Defeat of 
 the Austrians. — Hostilities stopped by the Armistice of 
 Leoben. — State of Prussia during this Year. — Its Policy. 
 — Death of the King. — His Character. — Accession of 
 Frederic William III. — His Character. — Early Measures 
 and Policy. — Retrospect of the astonishing Successes of 
 Kapoleon. — Commencement of the Negotiations at Udi- 
 Da in Italy. — Splendour of Napoleon's Court there. — 
 Revolution at Genoa brought about by the French. — The 
 Senate defeat the Insurgents. — The French then inter- 
 fere, and vigorously support the Democratic Party. — Sen- 
 ate upon this Submit. — Violent Passions of the People. — 
 Rural Insurrection breaks out, which is suppressed. — De- 
 plorable Humiliation of Piedmont. — Negotiations between 
 England and France opened at Lisle. — Moderation of 
 England. — They are broken off by the Vehemence and 
 Arrogance of France.— Progress of the Negotiations at 
 Udina. — Terms are at length agreed to.— Simulated Ar- 
 rogance and real Fears of Napoleon. — His Secret Motives 
 for signing this Treaty. — The Directory had forbid the spo- 
 liation of Venice. — Its Infamy rests exclusively on Napole- 
 on. — Terms of the Treaty of Campo Formio. — Its secret 
 Articles. — Horror excited at Venice by the Publication of 
 the Treaty. — Great Sensation excited by this Event in 
 Europe. — Infamous Conduct of Napoleon in this Transac- 
 
 tion. — Important Light which it throws upon his Char- 
 acter. — Atrocious Conduct of Austria. — Weakness of the 
 Venitian Aristocracy. — Insanity of the Democratic Party. 
 — Striking Contrast exhibited at the same Period by the 
 Nobility and People of England. 
 
 The year 1797 was far from realizing the 
 brilliant prospects which Mr. Pitt Russia recedes 
 had formed lor the campaign, and from the con- 
 which the recent alliance with the templated 
 Empres-s Catharine had rendered measures of 
 so likely to be fulfilled. The death '^^"'^""«- 
 of that great princes.s, who, alone with the Brit- 
 ish statesman, appreciated the full extent of the 
 danger, and the necessity of vigorous measures 
 to counteract it, dissolved all the projected ar- 
 maments. The Emperor Paul, who succeeded 
 her, countermanded the great levy of 150,000 
 men which she had ordered for the French war, 
 and so far from evincing any disposition to min- 
 gle in the contentions of Southern Europe, seem- 
 ed absorbed only in the domestic concerns of his 
 vast empire. Prussia was still neutral, and it 
 was ascertained that a considerable time must 
 elapse before the veterans of the archduke could 
 be drawn from the Upper Rhine to defend the 
 Alpine frontier of the hereditarj' states. Every- 
 thing, therefore, con.spired to indicate, that by an 
 early and vigorous effort, a fatal blow might be 
 struck at the heart of the Austrian power before 
 the resources ef the monarchy could be collected 
 to repel it.* 
 
 Aware of the necessity of commencing opera- 
 tions early in the spring, Napoleon 
 had, in the beginning of the preceding oir^cto^ '^^ 
 winter, urged the Directorj' to send "^'^ °'^' 
 him powerful re-enforcements, and put forth the 
 strength of the Republic in a quarter where the 
 barriers of the imperial dominions were already, 
 in a great measure, overcome. Everj-thing indi- 
 cated that that was the most vulnerable side on 
 which the enemy could be assailed, but the jeal- 
 ousy of the government prevented them from 
 placing the major part of their forces at the dis- 
 posal of so ambitious and enterprising a general 
 as the Italian conqueror. Obstinately adhering 
 to the plan of Carnot, which all the disasters of 
 the preceding campaign had not taught them to 
 distrust, they directed Hoche to send his forces to 
 the army of the Sambre and Meuse, of which he 
 received the command, while large re-enforce- 
 ments were also despatched to the army of the 
 Rhine ; the plan being to open the campaign 
 with two armies of eighty thousand each in Ger- 
 many, acting independent of each other, and on a 
 parallel and far distant line of operations. The 
 divisions of Bernadotte and Delmas, above* 
 twenty thousand strong, were sent from the 
 Rhine to strengthen the army of Italy. These 
 brave men crossed the Alps in the depth of win- 
 ter.t In ascending Mont Cenis, a violent .snow- 
 storm arose, and the guides recommended a halt ; 
 but the officers ordered the drums to beat and the 
 charge to sound, and they faced the tempest as 
 they would have rushed upon the enemy. 
 
 * Th., ix., 49. .Tom., x., 12. 
 
 t Jom., X., 20, 24. Th., ii., 49, 51. 
 
460 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIIL 
 
 The arrival of these troops raised the army 
 Beniadotte's immediately under the command oi" 
 and Deiiiias's Napoleon to sixty-one thousand 
 divisions jum men, independent of sixteen thou- 
 Napuleou. g^j-jjj ^,jjg were scattered from An- 
 cona to Milan, and employed in overawing the 
 rear and communications of the army. Four 
 divisions, destined for immediate operations, 
 were assembled in the Trevisane 
 Wsforclr March in the end of February, viz., 
 that of Massena at Bassano, Serru- 
 rier at Castelbranco, Augereau at Treviso, and 
 Bernadotte at Padua. Joubert, with his own 
 division, re-enforced by those of Delmas and 
 Baraguay D'Hilliers, was stationed in Tyrol, to 
 make head against the formidable forces which 
 the Imperialists were assembling in that warlike 
 province.* 
 
 Meanwhile the Austrian government had been 
 Preparations actively employed during the winter 
 of the Impe- in taking measures to repair the loss- 
 Tialists. es of the campaign, and make head 
 
 against the redoubtable enemy who threatened 
 them on the Carinthian frontiers. The great 
 successes of the archduke in Germany had fill- 
 ed them with the strongest hopes that the talents 
 and influence of that youthtul general would 
 succeed in stemming the torrent of invasion from 
 the Italian plains. As their veteran forces in 
 Italy had almost all perished in the disastrous 
 campaign of 1796, they resolved to bring thirty 
 thousand men, under the archduke in person, 
 from the Upper Rhine, to oppose Napoleon, 
 leaving only one corps there under Latour, and 
 another under Werneck on the lower part of the 
 river, to make head again.st the Republican ar- 
 mies. Fresh levies of men were made in Bohe- 
 mia, Illyria, and Galicia ; the contingents of 
 Tyrol were quadrupled ; and the Hungarian no- 
 bility, imitating the example of their ancestors 
 Nov 22 "^ ^^^ ^^^"^ °' Maria Theresa, voted 
 twenty thousand infantry and ten thou- 
 sand cavalry, besides immense stores of provis- 
 ions and forage for the ensuing campaign. 
 These forces, speedily raised, were animated 
 Great spirit in with that firm and persevering spirit 
 the hereditary which has always characterized the 
 states. Austrian nation ; the enthusiasm of 
 
 the people, awakened by the near approach of 
 danger, rose to the highest pitch ; and the re- 
 cruits, hastily moved forward, soon filled the 
 shattered battalions on the banks of the Taglia- 
 mento. But new levies, however brave, do not 
 at once form soldiers; the young recruits were 
 no match for the veterans of Napoleon ; and, by 
 an inexplicable tardiness, attended with the most 
 disastrous effects, the experienced soldiers from 
 the army of the Rhine were not brought up till 
 it was too late for them to be of any service in 
 the issue of the campaign.t 
 
 Anxious to strike a decisive blow before this 
 Napoleon an- P^at re-enforcemem arrived, Napo- 
 ticipates the leon Commenced operations on the 
 •arrival of the lOth of March, when the archduke 
 Austrian vet- ^^d only assembled thirty thousand 
 erans. ^^^ ^^^ ^-^^^ Tagliamento, and when 
 
 three weeks must yet elapse before the like num- 
 ber of veteran troops could even begin to arrive 
 from the Rhine. Nothing demonstrates more 
 clearly the vital importance of time in war: to 
 this fatal delay all the disasters of the campaign 
 were immediately owing. What could the 
 archduke do, with half the forces opposed to him. 
 
 Jom., X., 26. Th.. ix., 61. + Jom., i., 9, 27, 28. 
 
 in arresting the progress of the conqueror of It- 
 aly 1 The summits of the Alps were still re- 
 splendent with snow and ice, but this only in- 
 flamed the ambition of the youthful hero.* 
 
 In commencing operations thus early, howev- 
 er, the French general incurred a fear- 
 ful risk. The armies of the Repub- P^'^^Sf^of 
 
 ,. .u Til • • ^1. that plan. 
 
 lie on the Rhine were not m a condi- 
 tion to take the field for a month afterward, and. 
 Napoleon was about to precipitate himself into 
 the midst of the Austrian monarchy without 
 any other support than what he could derive 
 from his own forces. Had the archduke been 
 permitted to collect his army in the Tyrol in- 
 stead of Carinthia, there summoned to his stand- 
 ard the enthusia.stic peasantry of that province, 
 and fallen back, in case of need, on his re-en- 
 forcements coming up from the Rhine, he would 
 have covered Vienna ju.st as efiectually as on 
 the direct road, accelerated by three weeks the 
 junction with those forces, and probably totally 
 changed the fate of the campaign. But it is 
 hard to say whether the Aulic Council or the 
 Directory did most to ruin the designs of their 
 victorious generals ; for the former obliged the 
 archduke to assemble his anny on the Taglia- 
 mento instead of the Adige, while the latter re- 
 fused to ratify the treaty with the King of Sar- 
 dinia, by which Napoleon had calculated on a 
 subsidiary force of ten thousand men, to protect 
 the rear, and maintain the communications of 
 his army. To compensate this loss, he had la- 
 boured all the winter to conclude an alliance 
 with the Venitian Republic ; but its haughty, yet 
 timid aristocracy, worn out with the French ex- 
 actions, not only declined his overtures, but man- 
 ifested some symptoms of alienation from the 
 Republican interest, which obliged the French 
 general to leave a considerable force in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Verona, to overawe their vacillating^ 
 councils. Thus Napoleon was left alone to 
 hazard an irruption into the Austrian states, and 
 scale the Noric and Julian Alps with sixty thou- 
 sand men, leaving on his left the warlike province 
 of Tyrol, by which his communications with the 
 Adige might be cut off", and on his right Croa- 
 tia and the Venitian states ; the first of which 
 was warmly attached to the house of Austria, 
 while the last might be expected, on the least re- 
 verse, to join the same standard. t 
 
 Three great roads lead from Verona across 
 the Alps to Vienna : that of Tyrol, Description of 
 that of Carinthia, and that of Carni- the theatre of 
 ola. The first, following the line ^ar. 
 of the Adige by Bolzano and Brixen, crosses 
 the ridge of the Brenner into the valley of the 
 Inn, from whence it passes by Salzbourg into 
 that of the Danube, and descends to Vienna af- 
 ter passing the Ens. The second traverses the 
 Vicentine and Trevisane Marches, crosses the 
 Piave and the Tagliamento, surmounts the Alps 
 by the Col-de-Tarwis, descends into Carinthia, 
 crosses the Drave at Villach, and, by Klagen- 
 furth and the course of the Muer, mounts the 
 Simmering, from whence it descends into the 
 plain of Vienna. The third, by Carinthia, pass- 
 es the Isolizo at Gradisca, goes through Lay- 
 bach, crosses the Save and the Drave, enter.s 
 Styria, passes Gratz, the capital of that province, 
 and joins the immediately preceding road at 
 Bruck. Five lateral roads lead from 
 the chaussee of Tyrol to that of Carin- "^ '■°^^- 
 
 * Th., ix., 63, 65. Joni., x., 27. Nap., iv., 68. 
 t Jom., X., 28. Nap., iv,, 69, 73. Th., ix., 63 64. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 461 
 
 thia : the first, branchinpf oft" from Brixen, joins 
 the other at Villach ; the second, tVoiu Salz- 
 bourg, leads to Spilal ; the third, iroiu Lintz, 
 traverses a lolly ridge to Judernbourg; the I'uurth, 
 from Ens, crosses to Leoben ; the tillh, from Pol- 
 len to Bruck. Three crossroads unite the chaus- 
 see of Carinthia with that of Carniola : the lirst 
 branches oil' from Gonzia, and, following the 
 course of the Isonzo, joins, at Tarwis, the route 
 of Carinthia ;* the second connects Laybach and 
 Klagenfurth ; the third, setting out trom Mar- 
 burg, also terminates at Klagenfurth. 
 
 The rivers which descend from this chain of 
 mountains into the Adriatic Sea did 
 And rivers. ^^^ present any Ibrmidable obstacles. 
 The Piave and the Tagliamento were hardly 
 defensible ; and although the line of the Isonzo 
 was far stronger, yet it was susceptible of being 
 turned by the Col-de-Tarwis. By accumulating 
 the mass of his forces on his own left, and pene- 
 trating through the higher ridges. Napoleon per- 
 ceived that he would overcome all the obstacles 
 ■which nature had opposed to his advance, and 
 turn all the Austrian positions by the Alps which 
 Napoleon commanded them. He directed Mas- 
 resolves to sena, accordingly, to turn the right 
 turn the Aus- flank of the enemy with his powerful 
 tnaii right, division, while the three others at- 
 tacked them in front at the same time. Joubert, 
 •with seventeen thousand men, received ordei's to 
 force the passes of the Italian Tyrol, and drive 
 the enemy over the Brenner ; and Victor, who 
 was still on the Apennines, was destined to move 
 forward with his division, which successive ad- 
 ditions would raise to twenty thousand men, to 
 the Adige, to keep in check the Venitian levies, 
 and secure the communications of the army. 
 Thirty-live thousand of the Austrian forces, 
 imder the archduke in person, were assembled on 
 the left bank of the Tagliamento ; the remainder 
 of his anny, fifteen thousand strong, were in 
 Tyrol at Bolzano, while thirty thousand of his 
 best troops were only begirming their march from 
 the Upper Rhine.t 
 
 Napoleon moved his headquarters to Bassano 
 Napoleon's on the 9th of March, and addressed 
 proclamation the following order of the day to his 
 to his soldiers, army: "Soldiers! The fall of Man- 
 tua has terminated the war in Italy, which has 
 given you eternal titles to the gratitude of your 
 country. You have been victorious in fourteen 
 pitched battles and seventy combats ; you have 
 made 100, WIO prisoners, taken 500 pieces of field 
 artillery, ioOO of heavy calibre, and lour sets of 
 pontoons. The contributions you have levied 
 on the vanquished coimtries have clothed, fed, 
 and paid the army, and you have, besides, sent 
 30,000,000 of francs to the public treasury. You 
 have enriched the Museum of Paris with 300 
 chefs-d'a'Mvrc of art, the produce of thirty centu- 
 ries. You have conquered the finest countries in 
 Europe for the Republic ; the Transjiadane and 
 Cispadane Republics owe to you their freedom. 
 The French colours now fly for the first time on 
 the shores of the Adriatic, in front, and within 
 twenty-four hours sail of the country of Alexan- 
 der ! The kings of Sardinia, of Naples, the 
 jjope, the Duke of Parma, have been detached 
 from the coalition. You have chased the Eng- 
 lish from Leghorn, Genoa, Corsica; and now 
 still higher destinies await you : you will show 
 yourselves worthy of them ! Of all the enemies 
 
 * Nap., iv., 71, 72. Jom., x., 29, 30. Th., ix.. 64, 65. 
 t Jom., X., 33. Nap., iv., 72, 73. Th., ix., 67. 
 
 who were leagued against the Republic, the em- 
 jieror alone mainiams the contest; but he is 
 blindly led by that perfidious cabinet, which, a 
 stranger to the evils of war, smiles at the sufl'er- 
 ings of the Continent. Peace can no longer be 
 found but in the heart of the hereditary states : 
 in seeking it there, you will respect the religion, 
 the manners, the property of a brave people : you 
 will bring freedom to the valiant Hungarian 
 nation."* 
 
 The approaching contest between the Arch- 
 duke Charles and Napoleon excited ^ 
 the utmost interest throughout Eu- excited"in Eu- 
 rope, both from the magnitude of the rope by the 
 cause which they respectively bore "pproachmg 
 upon their swords, and the great '^""''-*^'- 
 deeds which, on diflerent theatres, they had sever- 
 ally achieved. The one appeared resplendent, 
 from the conquest of Italy ; the other illustrious, 
 from the deliverance of Germany: the age of 
 both was the same ; their courage equal, their 
 mutual respect reciprocal. But their dispositions 
 were extremely different, and the resources on 
 which thej- had to rely in the contest which was 
 approaching as various as the causes which they 
 supported. The one was audacious and impet- 
 uous, the other calm and judicious : the first 
 was at the head of troops hitherto unconquered, 
 the last of soldiers dispirited by disaster : the 
 former combated not with arms alone, but the 
 newly-roused passions; the latter with the weap- 
 ons only of the ancient faith : the Republican 
 army was the more numerous, the imperial 
 the more fully equipped : on the victory of Na- 
 poleon depended the maintenance of llie Repub- 
 lican sway in Italy; on the success of the arch- 
 duke, the existence of the empire of the Csesars 
 in Germany. On the other hand, the people of 
 the provinces around and behind the theatre of 
 war were attached to the Austrians, and hostile 
 to the French ; retreat, therefore, was the policy 
 of the former, impetuous advance of the latter; 
 victory by the one was to be won by rapidity of 
 attack, success could be hoped for by the other 
 only by protracting the contest. Great re-en- 
 forcements were hastening to the archduke from 
 the Rhine, the hereditary stales, and Hungary, 
 while his adversary could expect no assistance 
 beyond what he at first brought into action. 
 Success at first, therefore, seemed within the 
 grasp of Napoleon ; but if the contest could be 
 protracted, it might be expected to desert the Re- 
 publican for the imperial banners.t 
 
 On the 10th of March, all the columns of the 
 army were in motion, though the 
 weather was still rigorous, and snow xa^liaiuento.*' 
 to the depth of several feet encum- 
 bered the higher passes of the mountains. Mas- 
 sena's advanced guard first came into action: he 
 set out from Bassano, crossed the Piave in the 
 mountains, came up with the division of Lusig- 
 nan, which he defeated, Avith the loss of 500 pris- 
 oners, among whom was that general himself. 
 By pressing forward through the higher Alps, he 
 compelled the archduke, to avoid his right flank 
 being turned, to fall back from the Piave to the 
 Tagliamento, and concentrate his army behiad 
 the latter stream. On the 16th of ^^^^ March 
 March, at nine o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, the three divisions of the French army, des- 
 tined to act under Napoleon in person, were 
 drawn up in front of the Austrian force, on the 
 right bank of the Tagliamento. This stream, 
 
 * Nap., iv., 76. 
 
 t Bot., ii., 172, 173. 
 
462 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIIL 
 
 after descending from the mountains, separates 
 into several branciaes, all of which are ibrdable, 
 and covers the ground for a great extent between 
 them with stones and gravel. The imperial 
 squadrons, numerous and magnificently appoint- 
 ed, were drawn up on the opposite shore, ready 
 to fall on the French infantry the moment that 
 they crossed the stream ; and a vast array of ar- 
 tillery already scattered its balls among its nu- 
 merous branches. Napoleon, seeing the enemy so 
 well prepared, had recourse to a stratagem : he 
 ordered the troops to retire without the reach of 
 the enemy's fire, establish abivouack, and begin 
 to cook their victuals ; the archduke, conceiving 
 all chance of attack over for the day, withdrew 
 his forces into their camp in the rear. When all 
 was quiet, the signal v/as given by the French 
 general ; the soldiers ran to arms, and, fonning 
 with inconceivable rapidity, advanced quickly in 
 columns by echellon, flanking each other in the 
 finest order, and precipitated themselves into the 
 river. The precision, the beauty of the move- 
 ments, resembled the exercise of a field-day ; 
 never did an army advance upon the enemy in a 
 more majestic or imposing manner. The troops 
 vied with each other in the regularity and firm- 
 ness of their advance. " Soldiers of the Rhine," 
 exclaimed Bemadotte, " the army of Italy is 
 watching your conduct." The rival divisions 
 reached the stream at the same time, and, fear- 
 lessly plunging into the water, soon gained the 
 opposite shore. The Austrian cavalry, hasten- 
 ing to the spot, charged the French infantrv' on 
 the edge of the water, but it was too late ; they 
 were alread}^ established in battle array on the 
 left bank. Soon the firing became general along 
 the whole line ; but the archduke, seeing the pas- 
 sage achieved, his flank turned, and being un- 
 willing to engage in a decisive action before the 
 arrival of his divisions from the Rhine, ordered 
 a retreat; and the French light troops pursued 
 him four miles from the field of battle. In this 
 action the Imperialists lost six pieces of cannon 
 and 500 men ; and, what was of more importance, 
 the prestige of a first success. In truth, the 
 archduke never regained the confidence of his 
 soldiers in contending with the conqueror of 
 Italy.* 
 
 Meanwhile Massena, on the central road, had 
 Operations effected his passage at St. Daniel, 
 of Massena Soon after, he made himself master 
 on the left, of Osopo, the key of the chaussee of 
 the Ponteba, which was not occupied in force, 
 pushed on to the Venitian chiusa, a narrow 
 gorge rudely fortified, which he also carried, and 
 drove the Austrian division of Ocksay before 
 him to the ridge of Tarwis.t 
 
 The occupation of the Ponteba by Massena 
 prevented the archduke from continuing his re- 
 treat by the direct road to Carinthia ; he resolved, 
 therefore, to regain it by the crossroad which 
 follows the blue and glittering waters of the 
 Isonzo, because the Carinthian road, being the 
 most direct, was the one which Napoleon would 
 probably follow in his advance upon Vienna. 
 For this purpose, he despatched his parks of ar- 
 tillery and the division of Bayalitch by the Ison- 
 zo, towards Tarwas, while the remainder of his 
 
 i" -u IT u forces retired bv the Lower Isonzo. 
 J/th March, ^j^g ^^^ ^^jgj, jj^g ^^,,,p pj- (j^g -Yag^i. 
 
 amento, Napoleon occupied Palma Nuova, 
 where he found immense magazines, and soon 
 
 * N.ip., iv., 76, 79. Th., \x.. 67, 71. Jom., .t., 33. 
 t Th., ii., 72. Nap., iv., 79. 
 
 afl;er pushed on to Gradisca, situated on the 
 Lower Isonzo, and garrisoned by three thousand 
 men. Bemadotte's division arrived 
 first before the place, and instantly , March, 
 plunging into the torrent, which at that time was 
 uncommonly low, notwithstanding a shower of 
 balls from two thousand Croatians Passage of the 
 stationed on the opposite shore, sue- Isonzo by Ber- 
 ceeded in forcing the passage, from nadotte. 
 whence he rashly advanced to assault the place. 
 A terrible fire of grape and musketry, which swept 
 oif 500 men, speedily repulsed this attack ; but 
 while the Imperialists were congratulating them- 
 selves upon their success, the division of Ser- 
 rurier, which had crossed in another quarter, ap- 
 peared on the heights in the rear, upon which 
 they laid dowTi their arms, in number 2000, with 
 ten pieces of artillery and eight standards. This 
 success had most important consequences: the 
 division of Bemadotte marched upon and took 
 possession of Laybach, while a thousand horse 
 occupied Trieste, "the greatest harbour of the Aus- 
 trian monarchy ; and Serrurier ascended the 
 course of the Isonzo by Caporetto 
 and the Austrian chiusa, to regain at '*="^^. 
 Tarwis the route of Carinthia.* 
 
 Meanwhile Massena, pursuing the broken re- 
 mains of Ocksay's division, made „ 
 himself master of the important jJlriLl^^r 
 Ooi-de-larAvis, the cre.st oi the of the Col-de- 
 Alps, commanding both the valleys Tarwis on the 
 descending to Carinthia and Dal- ''^f'- Dc^peiate 
 matia. The archduke immediate- '""'°' '^""• 
 ly foresaw the danger which the division of Bay- 
 alitch would incur, pressed in rear by the victori- 
 ous troops which followed it up the' Isonzo, and 
 blocked up in front by the division of Massena, 
 at the upper end of the defile, on the ridge of 
 Tarwis. He resolved, therefore, at all hazards, 
 to retake that important station, and for this pur- 
 pose hastened in person to Klagenfurth, on the 
 northern .side of the great chain of the Alps, and 
 put himself at the head of a division of five 
 thousand grenadiers, who had arrived at thai: 
 place the day before from the P^hine, and with 
 these veteran troops advanced to retake the pas- 
 sage. He was at first successful, and, after a 
 sharp action, established himself on the summit 
 with the grenadiers and the division of Ocksay. 
 But Massena, who w-as well aware of the im- 
 portance of this post, upon the possession of 
 which the fate of the Austrian division coming 
 up the Isonzo and the issue of the campaign de- 
 pended, made the most vigorous efforts to regain 
 his ground. The troops on both sides fought 
 with the utmost resolution, and both command- 
 ers exposed their persons like the meanest of the 
 soldiers ; the cannon thundered above the clouds, 
 the cavalry charged on fields of ice, 
 the infantry struggled through drifts ^-^^ ""^^h. 
 of snow. At length the obstinate courage of 
 Massena prevailed over the perse- it is finaUy won 
 vering resolution of his adversan,', by the Republi- 
 and the archduke, after having ex- <=ans. 
 hausted his last reserve, was compelled to give 
 way, and yield the possession of the blood-stained 
 snows of Tarwis to the Republican soldiers.t 
 
 No sooner had the French general established 
 himselfon this important station, than he occupied 
 in force both the defiles leading to Villach, whith- 
 er the archduke had retired, and those descend- 
 ing to the Austrian chiusa, where Bayalitch's 
 
 * Nap., iv., 81, 83. Th., ix., 72, 73. Jom., i., 39, 41. 
 t Nap., iv., 80, 81. Th., ii., 74, 75. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 463 
 
 division was expected soon to appear. Mean- 
 while, that general, encumbered with artillery and 
 ammunition wagon.s, was slowly ascending the 
 vine-clad course of the Isonzo, and, having at 
 length passed the gates of the Austrian chiusa, 
 he deemed himself secure under the shelter of 
 that almost impregnable barrier. But nothing 
 could withstand the attack of the French. The 
 „ .. ,, fourth regiment, sumamed "the Im- 
 Soa'^issur-petuous," scaled, with infinite diffi- 
 ronnded and culty, the tock's which ovcrhung the 
 made prison- left of the position, while a column 
 ^^- of infantry assailed it in front, and 
 
 the Austrian detachment, finding itself thus turn- 
 ed, laid down its arms. No resource now re- 
 mained to Bayalitch ; shut up in a narrow val- 
 ley, between impassable mountains, he was 
 pressed in rear by the victorious troops of Ser- 
 rurier, and in front found his advance stopped 
 by the vanguard of Massena on the slopes of the 
 Tarwis. A number of Croatians escaped over 
 the mountains by throwing away their arms, but 
 the greater part of the division, consisting of the 
 general himself, 3500 men, twenty-five pieces of 
 cannon, and 400 artillery or baggage-wagons, 
 fell into the hands of the Republicans.* 
 
 Napoleon had now gained the crest of the 
 
 ■„ , Alps ; headquarters were success- 
 
 Napoleon cross- . K ' ? 1 . /~i 
 
 es the ridge of ivcly transtcrred to Caporetto, 
 the Alps. ° Oc- Tarwis, Villach, and Klagenfurth ; 
 cupies Kiageu- jhe army passed the Drave on the 
 ^"'■'^- bridge of Villach, which the Im- 
 
 perialists had not time to burn, and found itself 
 on the streams which descend to the Danube. 
 The Alps were passed; the scenery, the man- 
 ners, the houses, the cultivation, all bore the 
 character of Germany. The soldiers admired 
 the good-humour and honesty of the peasants, 
 the invariable characteristic of the Gothic race ; 
 the quantity of vegetables, of horses and chari- 
 ots, proved of the utmost service to the army. 
 Klagenfurth, surrounded by a ruined rampart, 
 was slightly defended : the French had no sooner 
 made themselves masters of that town, than they 
 restored the fortifications, and established maga- 
 zines of stores and provisions, while the whole 
 English merchandise found in Trieste was, ac- 
 cording to the usual custom of the Republicans, 
 confiscated for their use.t 
 
 While these important operations were going 
 forward in Carinthia, Joubert had gained de- 
 cisive successes in the Italian Tyrol. No soon- 
 er had the battle of the Tagliamento expelled the 
 Imperialists from Italy, than that general receiv- 
 ed orders to avail himself of his numerical su- 
 periority, and drive the Austrians over the Bren- 
 ner. He commenced the attack, accordingly, on 
 M h20 '^^ ^^^^ °^ March. The Imperialists 
 were in two divisions, one imder Ker- 
 pen, on the Lavis, in the valley of the Adige ; 
 the other, under Laudohn, in the mountains near 
 Neumarkt. The former, encamped on the pla- 
 Successfui ''2^^^ of Cembra, on the River Lavis, 
 operations of wcrc assailed by Joubert with su- 
 Joubsrt in the perior forces, and, after a short ac- 
 "^y™^- tion, driven back to Bolsano, with 
 
 the loss of two thousand five hundred prisoners 
 and seven pieces of cannon. The French, after 
 this success, separated into two divisions ; the 
 first, under Baraguay D'Hilliers, pursued the 
 broken remains of Kerpen's forces on the great 
 road to Bolsano, while the second, composed of 
 
 * Nap., iv., 8S, 84. Join., x., 46, 47. Th., ix., 75. 
 t Nup., iv., 84, 8b. 
 
 the elite of the troops, under Joubert in person, 
 advanced against Laudohn, who had come up to 
 Newinarkt, in the endeavour to re-establish his 
 communication with Kerpen. The Imperialists, 
 attacked by superior forces, were routed, witti 
 the loss of several pieces of cannon and a thou- 
 sand prisoners ; while, on the same day, the other 
 division of the army entered Bolsano without 
 opposition, and made itself master of all the 
 magazines it contained.* 
 
 Bolsano is situated at the junction of the val- 
 leys of the Adige and the Eisach. D^.p^^te ac- 
 To command both, Joubert lett Del- tion at the 
 mas, with five thousand men, in I'ass of ciaa- 
 that town, and himself advanced in ^^'^■ 
 person with the remainder of his forces up the 
 narrow and rocky defile which leads by the batdis 
 of the Eisach to Brixen. Kerpen awaited him 
 in the position of Clausen, a romantic and seem- 
 ingly impregnable pass, three miles above Bol- 
 sano, where the mountains approach each other 
 so closely as to leave only the bed of the stream 
 and the breadth of the road between their frown- 
 ing brows. An inaccessible precipice shuts in 
 the pass on the southern side, while on the north- 
 ern a succession of wooded and rocky peaks- 
 rises in wild variety from the raging torrent to 
 the naked clilfs, three thousand feet above. Ear- 
 ly in the morning the French presented y. ,^ 
 themselves at the jaws of this formida- 
 ble defile ; but the Austrian and Tyrolean marks- 
 men, perched on the cliffs and in the woods, kept 
 up so terrible a fire upon the road, that column 
 after column, which advanced to the attack, was 
 swept awa3^ For the whole day the action con- 
 tinued, without the Republicans gain- wiucb is at 
 ing any advantage ; but towards even- length car- 
 ing, their active light infantry sue- "^'^■ 
 ceeded in scaling the rocky heights on the right 
 of the Imperialists, and rolled down great blocks 
 of stone, which rendered the pass no longer tena- 
 ble.t Joubert, at the same time, charged rapidly 
 in front, at the head of two regiments formed iu 
 close column ; and the Austrians, unable to 
 withstand this combined effort, fell back towards 
 Brixen, which was soon after occupied by their 
 indefatigable pursuers. 
 
 The invasion of Tyrol, so far from daunting, 
 tended only to animate the spirit of the peasantry 
 in that populous and warlike district. Kerpen, 
 as he fell back, distributed numerous proclama- 
 tions, which soon brought crowds of expert and 
 dauntless marksmen to his standard ; and re-en- 
 forced by these, he took post at Mitten- jjj^j.p},2.? 
 wald, hoping to cover both the great 
 road over Mount Brenner, and the lateral one 
 which ascended the Pusterthal. But he was at- 
 tacked with such vigour by General Belliard, at 
 the head of the French infantry in close column, 
 that he was unable to maintain his ground, and, 
 driven from the castellated heights j^^^ert advan- 
 ot Sterzmg to take post on the sum- ces to Sterzing. 
 mit of theBrenner, the last barrier 
 of Innspruck, still covered with the snows of 
 winter. The alarm spread through 
 the whole of Tyrol; an attack on .^^^hTTyro™ 
 its capital was hourly expected ; and 
 it was thought the enemy intended to penetrate 
 across the valley of the Inn, and join the inva- 
 ding force on the Rhine.I 
 
 But Joubert, notwithstanding his successes, 
 was now in a dangerous position. The accounts 
 
 * Nap., IV., 89. Jom., x., 51 . 52. 
 t Jom., X., 53. Nap., iv., 89, 90. 
 t Jom., X., 54, 55. Nap., iv., 69, 90. Th., ii., 76. 
 
464 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIII. 
 
 he received from Bolsano depicted in glowing 
 colours the progress of the levy en masse; and 
 although he was at the head of twelve thousand 
 men, it was evidently highly dangerous either to 
 remain where he was, in the midst of a warlike 
 province in a state of insurrection, or advance 
 imsupported over the higher Alps into the valley 
 ^ J 4 of the Inn. There was no alterna- 
 
 He marches tive, therefore, but to retrace his 
 across to join Steps dowu the Adige, or join Na- 
 Napoleon at poleon by the crossroad from Brixen, 
 Klagenfurth. ^^^^^^^^1 the Pusterthal, to Klagen- 
 furth. He preferred the latter ; brought up 
 Delmas with his division from Bolsano, and 
 setting out in the beginning of April, joined the 
 main army in Carinthia with all his forces and 
 five thousand prisoners, leaving Serrurier to 
 make head as he best could against the formida- 
 ble force which Laudohn was organizing in the 
 valley of the Upper Adige.* 
 Thus, in twenty days after the campaign 
 opened, the army of the archduke 
 theleactfons. Mjas driven over the Julian Alps ; 
 the French occupied Carniola, Ca- 
 rinthia, Trieste, Fiume, and the Italian Tyrol; 
 ■and a formidable force of forty-five thousand 
 men, flushed with victorj'^, was on the northern 
 declivity of the Alps, within sixty leagues of Vi- 
 enna. On the other hand, the Austrians, dis- 
 pirited by disaster, and weakened by defeat, had 
 lost a fourth of their number in the different ac- 
 tions which had occurred, while the forces on 
 the Rhine were at so great a distance as to be 
 unable to take any part in the defence of the 
 capital.t 
 
 But, notwithstanding all this, the situation of 
 Perilous con- ^^^ Republican armies, in many re- 
 dition, not- spects, was highly perilous. An in- 
 withstanding, suiTection was breaking out in the 
 ofNapoleou. Venitian provinces, which it was 
 easy to see would ultimately involve that power 
 in hostilities with the French government ; Lau- 
 dohn was advancing by rapid strides in the val- 
 ley of the Adige, with no adequate force to check 
 his operations ; and the armies of the Rhine were 
 so far from being in a condition to afford any ef- 
 fectual assistance, that they had not 3'et crossed 
 that frontier river. The French army could not 
 descend unsupported into the valley of the Dan- 
 ube, for it had not cavalry sufficient to meet the 
 numerous and powerful squadrons of the Impe- 
 rialists ; and what were forty-five thousand men 
 in the heart of the Austrian Empire 1 These 
 considerations, which long had weighed with 
 Napoleon, became doubly cogent from a de- [ 
 spatch received on the 3lst of March, at Klagen- 
 furth, which aimovmced that Moreau's troops 
 could not enter iipon the campaign for want of 
 boats to cross the Rhine, and that the army of 
 Italy must reckon upon no support from the 
 other forces of the Republic. It is evident, not- 
 Avithstanding the extreme pecuniary distress of 
 the government, that there was something de- 
 signed in this dilator}^ conduct, which endanger- 
 ed the bravest army and all the conquests of the 
 Republic ; but they had already conceived that 
 jealousy of their victorious general which sub- 
 sequent events so fully justified, and apprehend- 
 ed less danger from a retreat before the imperial 
 forces, than a junction of their greatest armies 
 under such an aspiring leader. j 
 Deprived of all pros pect of that co-operation 
 
 * Jom., X Nap., iv., 90, 91. 
 t Join., X., 53 Nap., iv., 91. 
 t Nap., iv., 93, 94. Jom., x., 60, 61. Th., ii., 92. 
 
 on which he had relied in crossing „ 
 the Alps, Napoleon wisely deter- quence, mTkeJ 
 mined to forego all thoughts of die- proposals of 
 fating peace under the walls of Vi- pe="=e to the 
 enna, and contented himself with ^''■'^'^'^"''e- 
 making the most of his recent successes, by ob- 
 taining advantageous terms from the Austrian 
 government. A few hours, accordingly, after 
 receiving the despatch of the Directory, he ad- 
 dressed to the Archduke Charles one of those 
 memorable letters, which, almost as much as his 
 campaigns, bear the stamp of his powerful and 
 impassioned mind : " General-in-chief 
 — Brave soldiers make war and desire ^^'^'■'^° ^l. 
 peace. Has not this war already continued six 
 years 1 Have we not slain enough of our fel- 
 low-creatures, and inflicted a sufficiency of woes 
 on suffering humanity "? It demands repose on. 
 all sides. Europe, which took up arms against 
 the French Republic, has laid them aside. 
 Your nation alone remains, and yet blood is, 
 about to flow in as great profusion as ever. 
 This sixth campaign has commenced with sin- 
 ister omens ; but, whatever may be its issue, we 
 shall kill, on one side and the other, many thou- 
 sand men, and, nevertheless, at last come to an 
 accommodation ; for everything has a termina- 
 tion, even the passions of hatred. The Directo- 
 ry has already evinced to the imperial govern- 
 ment its anxious wish to put a period to hostili- 
 ties; the court of London alone broke ofi'the ne- 
 gotiation. But you, general-in-chief who, by 
 your birth, approach so near the throne, and are 
 above all the little passions which too often gov- 
 ern ministers and governments, are you resolved 
 to deserve the title of benefactor of humanity, 
 and of the real saviour of Germany 1 Do not 
 imagine, general, from this, that I conceive that 
 you are not in a situation to save it by force of 
 arms ; but even in such an event, Germany wiU 
 not be the less ravaged. As for myself, if the 
 overture which I have the honour to make shall 
 be the means of saving a single life, I shall be 
 more proud of the civic crown, which I shall be 
 conscious of having deserved, than of the mel- 
 ancholy glory attending militant success." The 
 archduke returned a polite and dignified answer 
 in these terms: "In the duty which is as- 
 signed to me, there is no power either to * ^'^' 
 scrutinize the causes, nor terminate the duration 
 of the war; and as I am not invested with any 
 powers in that respect, you will easily conceive 
 that I can enter into no negotiation without ex- 
 press authority from the imperial government." 
 It is remarkable how much more Napoleon, a 
 Republican general, here assumed the language 
 and exercised the power of an independent sov- 
 ereign than his illustrious opponent;* a signal 
 proof how early he contemplated that supreme 
 authority which his extraordinary abilities so 
 well qualified him to attain. 
 
 To support his negotiations, the French gen- 
 eral pressed the Imperialists with 
 all his might in their retreat. Early ^^The sa„t"'' 
 on the 1st of April Massena came time, severely 
 up with the Austrian rear-guard in presses the re- 
 advance of Freisach ; they were in- treating impe- 
 stantly attacked, routed, and driven "^ '^"^^^ 
 into the town pell-mell with the victors. Next 
 day. Napoleon, continuing his march, found 
 himself in presence of the archduke in person, 
 who had collected the greater part of his army, 
 re-enforced by four divisions recently arrived 
 
 * Nap., ir., 96, 97. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 465 
 
 from the Rhine, to defend the gorge of Neu- 
 markt. This terrific detile, which even a trav- 
 eller can hardly traverse without a feeling of 
 awe, olfered the strongest position to a retreating 
 army ; and its mouth, with all the villages in the 
 vicinity, was occupied in force by the Austrian 
 grenadiers. The French general collected his 
 forces; Massena was directed to assemble all 
 his division on the left of the chaussee ; the di- 
 vision of Guieux was placed on the heights on 
 the right, and Serrurier in reserve. At three in 
 the afternoon the attack commenced at all points; 
 the soldiers of the Rhine challenged the veterans 
 of the Italian army to equal the swiftness of 
 their advance, and the rival corps, eagerly 
 watching each other's steps, precipitated them- 
 selves with irresistible force upon the enemy. 
 They are de- ^'he Austriaus, after a short action, 
 feaied at the fell back in confusion, and the 
 gorge of Neu- archduke took advantage of the ap- 
 markt. pr jach of night to retire to Hund.s- 
 
 mark. In this aifair the Imperialists lost 1500 
 men, although the division of Massena was alone 
 seriously engaged. Napoleon instantly pushed 
 on to Schufling, a military post of great impor- 
 tance, as it was situated at the junction of the 
 crossroad from the Tyrol and the great chaussee 
 to Vienna, which was carried after a rude com- 
 bat ; and on the following day he de- 
 ^ spatched Guieux down the rugged defiles 
 of the Muer in pursuit of the column of Sporck, 
 which, after a sharp action with the French ad- 
 vanced guard, succeeded in joining the main 
 army of the Imperialists by the route of Rastadt. 
 
 Two days after, Napoleon pushed on 
 Napoleon j-q Judemberg, where headquarters 
 Judemberff," were established on the Gth of April, 
 and the arch- and then halted to collect his scatter- 
 duke retires ed forces, while the advanced guard 
 IZxl'.'^^ ^'" occupied the village of Leoben. The 
 
 ai'chduke now resolved to leave the 
 mountains, and concentrate all his divisions in 
 the neighbourhood of Vienna, where the whole 
 resources of the monarchy were to be collected, 
 and the last battle fought for the independence 
 of Germany.* 
 
 This rapid advance excited the utmost con- 
 Terror excited sternation at the Austrian capital, 
 by these dis- In vain the Aulic Council strove to 
 asters. gtem the torrent ; in vain the lower 
 
 orders surrounded the public otJices, and demand- 
 ed with loud cries to be enrolled for the defence 
 ■•^f the country; the government yielded to the 
 alarm, and terror froze every heart. The Dan- 
 ube was covered with boats, conveying the ar- 
 chives and most precious articles beyond the 
 reach of danger ; the young archduke and arch- 
 duchesses were sent to Hungary, among whom 
 "was Maria Louisa, then hardly six years of 
 age, who afterward became Empress of France. 
 The old fortifications of Vienna, which had with- 
 stood the arms of the Turks, but had since fallen 
 into decay, were hastily put into repair, and the 
 militia directed to the intrenched camp of Mari- 
 enhalf, to learn the art which might so soon be 
 required for the defence of the capital.t 
 
 The emperor, although endowed with more 
 than ordinary firmness of mind, at 
 ..th April, l^^-^^^^ yielded to the torrent. On the 
 7th of April, the archduke's chief of the staff, 
 Preliminaries Bellegarde, along with General 
 agreed to at Meerfield, presented himself at the 
 Leobeu. outposts, and a suspension of arms 
 
 * Nap., IV., 84, 100. Jom., x., 61, 65. Th., ix., 96, 97. 
 t Join., X., 64. Nap., iv., 92, 93. 
 
 Vol. I.— N n 
 
 was agreed on at Leoben for five days. All the 
 mountainous region, as far as the Simmring, 
 was to be occupied by the French troops, as 
 well as Gratz, the capital of Styria. On the 
 9th, the advanced posts established themselves 
 on that ridge, the last of the Alps before 
 they sink into the Austrian plain, from whence, 
 in a clear day, the steeples of the capital can be 
 discerned ; and on the same day headquarters 
 were established at Leoben to conduct the nego- 
 tiations. At the same time General Joubert arri- 
 rived in the valley of the Drave, and Kerpen, by 
 a circuitous route, joined the archduke. The 
 French army, which lately extended over the 
 whole Alps, from Brixen to Trieste, was concen- 
 trated in cantonments in a small space, ready to 
 debouch, in case of need, into the plain of Vienna.* 
 
 While these decisive events were occurring in 
 the Alps of Carinthia the prospects D,,^t,„„, 
 of the French m Tyrol, Croatia, and state of the 
 Friuli were rapidly changing for the French in 
 worse. An insurrection had taken Croatia and 
 place among the Croatians. Fiume ^™ ' 
 was wrested from the Republicans, and nothing 
 but the suspension of arms prevented 
 Trieste from falling into the hands of the ^^"^ ^^• 
 insurgents. Such was the panic they occa- 
 sioned, that the detached parties of the 
 French fled as far as Gorizia, on the P" " 
 Isonzo. Meanwhile, Laudohn, whose division 
 was raised to twelve thousand by the insurrec- 
 tion in the Tyrol, descended the Adige, driving 
 the inconsiderable division of Serrurier before 
 him., who was soon compelled to take refuge 
 within the walls of Verona. Thus, at the mo- 
 ment that the French centre, far advanced in the 
 mountains, was about to bear the whole weight 
 of the Austrian monarchy, its two wings were 
 exposed, and an insurrection in progress, which 
 threatened to cut off the remaining communica- 
 tions in its rear.t 
 
 The perilous situation of the French army 
 cannot be better represented than in the Extreme 
 words of Napoleon, in his despatch to danger of 
 the Directory, enclosing the prelimina- Napoleon, 
 ries of Leoben. " The court had evacuated Vi- 
 enna : the archduke and his army were falling 
 back on that of the Rhine ; the people of Hunga- 
 ry, and of all the hereditary states, were rising in 
 mass, and at this moment the heads of their col- 
 umns are on our flanks. The Rhine is not yet 
 passed by our soldiers ; the moment it is, the em- 
 peror will put himself at the head of his armies; 
 and although, if they stood their ground, I would, 
 without doubt, have beat them, yet they could 
 still have fallen back on the armies of the Rhine 
 and overwhelmed me. In such a case retreat 
 would have been difficult, and the loss of the ar- 
 my of Italy would have drawn after it that of the 
 Republic. Impressed with the.se ideas, I had 
 resolved to levy a contribution in the suburbs of 
 Vienna, and attempt nothing more. I have not 
 four thousand cavalry, and instead of the forty 
 thousand infantry I was to have received, I have 
 never got twenty. Had I insisted, in the com- 
 mencement of the campaign, upon entering Tu- 
 rin, I would never have crossed the Po ; had I 
 agreed to the project of going to Rome, I would 
 have lost the Milanese ■ had I persisted in ad- 
 vancing to Vienna, I would probably have ruin- 
 ed the Republic"; 
 
 When such was the views of the victorious 
 
 * .lorn., X., 67. Th., ix., 98. Nap., iv., 102, 103. 
 t Th., IX , 114. .Ii)in., x., 69. Nap., iv., 104. 
 t Jom., X., 462. Pieces Just. 
 
466 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIII. 
 
 party, the negotiation could not be long in com- 
 ing to a conclusion. Napoleon, though not lur- 
 ni-shed with any powers to that eifect Iroin the 
 Directory, took upon himself to act in the con- 
 ferences like an independent sovereign. The 
 Austrians attached great importance to the eti- 
 quette of the proceedings, and offered to recog- 
 nise the French Republic if they were allowed 
 the precedence ; but Napoleon ordered that arti- 
 cle to be withdrawn. " Efface that," said he : 
 "the Republic is like the sun, which shines with 
 its own light ; the blind alone cannot see it. In 
 truth," he adds, "such a condition was wor.se 
 than useless, because, if one day the French peo- 
 ple should wish to create a monarchy, the em- 
 peror might object that he had recognised "a Re- 
 public :" a striking proof how early the ambition 
 of the young general had been fixed upon the 
 throne.* 
 
 As the French plenipotentiaries had not arri- 
 r- ^,r.r.^r.r vcd , Napoleon, of his own auth'ori- 
 
 Conditions oi ' • ^i , ' t • ■ i 
 
 thepreliniina- ty. Signed the treaty. Its prmcipal 
 lies, 9ih of articles were, 1. The cession of 
 April, at Ju- Flanders to the Republic, and the 
 demberg. extension of its frontier to the Rhine, 
 on condition of a suitable indemnity being pro- 
 vided to the emperor in some other quarter. 
 2. The cession of Savoy to the same power, and 
 the extension of its territorj- to the summit of the 
 Piedmontese Alps. 3. The establishment of the 
 Cisalpine Republic, including Lombardy, with 
 the states of Modena, Cremona, and the Ber- 
 gamasque. 4. The Oglio was fixed on as 
 the boundary of the Austrian possessions in It- 
 aly. 5. The emperor was to receive, in return 
 for so many sacrifices, the ickole continental 
 states of Venice, including lUyria, Istria, Friuli, 
 and the Upper Italy as far as the Oglio. 6. Ven- 
 ice was to obtain, in return' for the loss of its 
 continental possessions, Romagna, Ferrara, and 
 Bologna,t which the French had wrested from 
 the pope. 7. The important fortresses of Man- 
 tua, Peschiera, Porto Legnago, and Palma-Nuo- 
 va, were to be restored to the emperor on the 
 conclusion of a general peace, with the city and 
 castles of Verona. 
 
 With truth does Napoleon confess that these 
 T, arrangements were made " in hatred 
 
 justice of this to Venice, t Thus did that daring 
 treaty as far leader and the Austrian govern- 
 as regards nient take upon themselves, without 
 \emce. any declaration of war or any actual 
 
 ho.stilities with "the Venitian government, to par- 
 tition out the territories of that neutral Republic, 
 for no other reason than because they lay con- 
 veniently for one of the contracting powers, and 
 afforded a plausible pretext for an enormous ac- 
 quisition of territoiy by the other. The page of 
 history, stained as it is -with acts of oppression 
 and violence, has nothing more iniquitous to pre- 
 sent. It is darker in atrocity tlian the partition 
 of Poland, and has only excited less indignation in 
 subsequent years because it was attended with 
 no heroism or dignity in the vanquished. It re- 
 veals the melancholy trath, that small states 
 have never so much reason to tremble for their 
 independence as when large ones in their neigh- 
 bourhood are arranging the terms of peace ; nor 
 is it ea.sy to say whether the injustice of thepro- 
 ceeding'is most apparent on the first statement 
 of the spoliation, or on a review of the previous 
 transactions which are referred to in its defence. 
 
 * Th., ix., 100. Nap., iv., 106. 
 
 t .Tom., X., 68, 69. Nap., iv., 106, 107. Th., ix., 104, 105. 
 
 t Nap., iv., 107. 
 
 Venice, the queen of the Adriatic, seated on 
 her throne of waters, had long sought to veil the 
 weakened strengtli and diminished courage of 
 age under a cautious and reserved neutrality. 
 The oldest state in existence, having survived 
 for nearly fourteen centuries, she had felt the 
 weakness and timidity of declining years before 
 any serious reverse had been sustained in her 
 fortunes, and was incapable of resisting the 
 slightest attack, while as yet her external aspect 
 exhibited no symptoms of decay. The travel- 
 ler, as he glided through the pala- state of Ven- 
 ces which still rose in undecaying ice at this pe- 
 beauty from the waters of the Adri- fiod. 
 atic, no longer wondered at the astonishment 
 with which the stern crusaders of the North ga- 
 zed at her marble piles, and felt the rapture of 
 the Roman emperor when he approached where 
 " Venice sat in state, throned on her hundred 
 isles ;" but in the weak and pusillanimous crowd 
 which he beheld on all sides, he looked in vain, 
 for the descendants of those brave men who leap- 
 ed from their galleys on the towers of Constanti- 
 nople, and stood forth as the bulwark of Chris- 
 tendom against the Ottoman power; and still 
 less, amid the misery and dejection with which 
 he was surrounded, could he go back in imagi- 
 nation to those days of liberty and valour, 
 
 " When Venice once was dear, 
 The pleasant place of .-lU Festivity : 
 The Revel of the Earth, the mask of Italy." 
 
 In truth, Venice exhibits one of the most curi- 
 ous and instractive instances which 
 
 is to be found in modem histoiy of J'^ ^"'i^'^T'^ 
 , , ,. _ . , -' tinued decline, 
 
 the decline of a state without any 
 
 rude external shock, from the mere force of in- 
 ternal corruption, and the long-continued direc- 
 tion of the passions to selfish objects. The 
 league of Cambray, indeed, had shaken its pow- 
 er; the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope had 
 diied up part of its resources, and the augmenta- 
 tion of the strength of the transalpine monar- 
 chies had diminished its relative importance ; but 
 still its wealth and population were such as to 
 entitle it to a respectable rank among the Euro- 
 pean states, and if directed by energy and cour- 
 age, would have given it a preponderating weight 
 in the issue of this campaign. But centuries of 
 peace had dissolved the courage of the high- 
 er orders; ages of corruption had extinguished 
 the patriotism of the people, and the continued 
 pursuits of selfish gratification had rendered all 
 classes incapable of the sacrifices which exer- 
 tions for their country required. The arsenals 
 were empty ; the fortifications decayed ; the fleet, 
 which once ruled the Adriatic, was rotting in 
 the Lagunce; and the army, which formerly 
 faced the banded strength of Europe in the 
 league of Cambray, was drawn entirely from 
 the semi-barbarous" provinces on the Turkish 
 frontier.* With such a population, nothing 
 grand or generous could be attempted ; but it 
 was hardly to be expected that the country of 
 Dandolo and Carmagnolo should yield without 
 a struggle, and the eldest born of the European 
 commonwealths sink unpitied into the grave 
 of nations. 
 
 The proximity of the Venitian continental 
 provinces to those which had re- p^pid progress 
 cently been revolutionized by the of Democratic 
 Picpublican arms, and the sojourn- ideas m the cit- 
 ing of the French armies among lesofthe Veni- 
 the ardent youth of its principal '"^ "" °'^^' 
 
 * Jom., I., 115. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 467 
 
 cities, naturally and inevitably led to the rap- 
 id propagation of Democratic princij/les among- 
 their inhabitants. This iool< place more partic- 
 ularly alter the victories of ilivoli and the tail of 
 Mantua had dispelled all dread of the return of 
 the Austrian forces. Everywhere Revolutiona- 
 ry clubs and committees were formed in the 
 towns, who corresponded with the Republican 
 authorities of Milan, and openly expressed 
 a wish to throw oft' the yoke of the Venitian oli- 
 garchy. During the whole winter of 1796, the 
 Democratic party in all the continental states of 
 Venice were in a state of unceasing agitation ; 
 and, although Napoleon was far from desirous 
 of involving his rear in hostilities when active- 
 ly engaged in the defiles of the Noric Alps, yet 
 he felt anxious to establish a paity able to coun- 
 teract the efforts of the Venitian government, 
 which already began to take umbrage at the men- 
 acing language and avowed sedition of their 
 ■Which are se- disaflected subjects. For this pur- 
 cretly cncour- pose, he secretly enjoined Captain 
 agedbyNapo- Landrieux, chief of' the statf to the 
 leon. cavalry, to correspond with the male- 
 
 contents, and give unity and effect to their oper- 
 ations; while, to preserve the appearance of 
 neutrality, he gave orders to General Kelmaine 
 to direct all the officers and soldiers under his 
 command to give neither counsel nor assistance 
 to the disaffected.* 
 
 Landrieux undertook a double part : while, on 
 the one hand, in obedience to Napoleon's com- 
 mands, and in conjunction with the ardent Dem- 
 ocrats of the Italian towns, he excited the people 
 to revolt, and organized the means of their resist- 
 ance, on the other he entered into a secret corre- 
 spondence with the Venitian government, and de- 
 spatched his agent, Stephani, to Ottolini, the 
 chief magistrate of Bergamo, to detail the nature 
 and extent of the conspiracy which was on foot, 
 and inform him that it went to separate entirely 
 its continental possessions from the Venitian 
 Republic.t By this double perfidy did this hyp- 
 ocritical chief of the staff" render inevitable a 
 rupture between France and Venice ; for while, 
 on the one hand, he excited the Democratic par- 
 ty against the government, on the other he gave 
 the government too good reason to adopt meas- 
 ures of coercion against the Democratic party 
 and their French allies.t 
 
 It is an easy matter to excite the passions of 
 Democracy, but it is rarely that the authors of 
 the flame can make it stop short at the point 
 which they desire. The vehement language 
 and enthusiastic conduct of the French soldiers 
 brought on an explosion in the Venitian territo- 
 ries sooner than was expedient for the interests 
 either of the general or the army. Napoleon's 
 constant object was, by the terror of an insurrec- 
 tion in their continental possessions, to induce 
 the government to unite cordially in a league 
 with France, and make the desired concessions 
 to the popular party ; but having failed in his en- 
 deavours, he marched for the Tagliamento, 
 leaving the seeds of an insurrection ready to ex- 
 plode in all the provinces in his rear. On the 
 morning of the 12lh of March, the revolt broke 
 
 * Corresp. Confid. de Nap., iv., 289. Jom., x., 120, 121. 
 Botta, ii., 189, 190, 191. Nap., iv., 129. 
 
 t " Landrieux," said Napoleon, in his secret despatch to 
 the Directory, "instigated the revolt in Bergamo and Bres- 
 cia, and was paid for it ; at the sanie time, he revealed the 
 plot to the Venitian government, and was paid for that also 
 by them." — Corresp. Confid., iv., 289. * Jom., x., 122. 
 
 t Des. Couf. de Nap., Coaf. Corr., iv., 289. Hard., it., Bott., ii., 192, 194. 
 226, 228. It Jom., x., 122, 123. 
 
 out at Bergamo, in consequence of Dnmnr-v^t 
 the arrest of the leaders of the insur- insurrection 
 rection ; the insurgents declared breaks out ia 
 openly that they were supported by '^•^ Venitiaa 
 the French, and despatched couriers '"■"^''"'^«^- 
 to Milan and the principal towns of Lombardy 
 to obtain succour, and besought the Republicaa 
 commander of the castle to support them with 
 his forces ; but he declined to interfere ostensibly 
 in their behalf, though he countenanced their 
 projected union with the Cisalpine Republic. 
 A provisional government was immediately es- 
 tablished, which instantfy announced to the Cis- 
 padane Republic that Bergamo had recovered its 
 liberty, and their desire to be united with that , 
 state, and concluded Avith these words : " Let us ' 
 live, let us fight, and, if necessary, die together ; 
 thus should all free people do: let us, then, for- 
 ever remain united— you, the French, and our- 
 selves."* 
 
 The example speedily spread to other towns. 
 Brescia, under the instig^ion of which soon 
 Landrieux, openly threw off^ its al- spreads to 
 legiance, and disarmed the Venitian all tlie chief 
 troops in presence of the French sol- t"'*^"^. 
 diers, who neither checked nor supported the in- 
 surrection. At Crema, the insurgents were in- 
 troduced into the gates by a body of French cav- 
 alry, and speedily overturned the Venitian au- 
 thorities, and proclaimed their union with the 
 Cispadane Republic.t 
 
 These alarming revolts excited the utmost con- 
 sternation at Venice ; and the senate, 
 not daring to act openly against in- ft^VeuicT'"'' 
 surgents who declared themselves 
 supported by the Republican commanders, wrote 
 to the Directory, and despatched Pesaro to the 
 headquarters of Napoleon, to complain of the 
 countenance given by his troops to the revolt of 
 their subjects. The Venitian depu- Venitians send 
 ties came up with the French gen- deputies to Na- 
 eral at Gorizia ; he feigned surprise poleon. His 
 at the intelligence, but endeavoured duplicity, 
 to take advantage of the terror of the Republic to 
 induce them to submit to increased exactions. 
 They represented that the French armies had oc- 
 cupied the principal fortresses and castles of the 
 Republic, and that, having thus obtained the 
 vantage-ground, they were bound either to take 
 some steps to show that they disapproved of the 
 revolt, which was organized in their name, or to 
 cede these places to the Republic, and permit 
 them to exert their own strength in restoring order 
 in their dominions. Napoleon positively declined 
 to do either of these things, but con- ^nd refusal to 
 stantly urged the deputies to throw act against the 
 themselves into the arms of France, insurgents, or 
 " That I should ann against our l<=t the Veni- 
 friends, against those who have re- *'^"* ° ^'*' 
 ceived us kindly, and wish to defend us, in fa- 
 vour of our enemies, against those who hate and 
 seek to ruin us, is impossible. Never will I 
 turn my arms against the principles of the Revo- 
 lution; to them I owe, in part, all my success. 
 But I offer you,, in perfect sincerity, my friend- 
 ship and my counsels : unite yourselves cordially 
 to France ; make the requisite changes in your 
 constitution ; and, without employing force with 
 the Italian people, I will induce them to yield to 
 order and peace." They passed from that to the 
 contributions for the use of the army. Hitherto 
 Venice had furnished supplies to the French ar- 
 
 ., i.\., 79, 80. Nap.. 
 Bott.,ii., 199,200. 
 
 iv., 130,131. 
 
468 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIII. 
 
 my, as she had previously done to the imperial. 
 The Venitian deputies insisted that Napoleon, 
 having now entered the hereditary states, should 
 cease to be any longer a burden on their resources. 
 This was far from being the French general's in- 
 tention, for he was desirous of levying no requi- 
 sitions on the Austrian territories, for fear of 
 rousing a national war among the inhabitants. 
 The commissaries, whom the Venitian govern- 
 ment had secretly commissioned to furnish sup- 
 plies to the French army, had ceased their con- 
 tributions, and they had, in consequence, com- 
 menced requisitions in the Venitian territories. 
 " That is a bad mode of proceeding," said Na- 
 poleon ; " it vexes the inhabitants, and opens the 
 door to innumerable abuses. Give me a million 
 a month as long as the campaign lasts ; the Re- 
 public Vv-ill account to you for it, and you will re- 
 ceive more than a million's worth in the cessa- 
 tion of pillage. You have nourished my ene- 
 mies, you must do the same to me." The envoys 
 answered that their treasury was exhausted. " If 
 you have no money," said he, " take it from the 
 Duke of Modena, or levy it on the property of 
 the Russians, Austrians, and English, which are 
 lying in your depots. But beware of proceeding 
 to hostilities. If, while I am engaged in a dis- 
 tant campaign, you light the flames of war in my 
 rear, you have sealed your own ruin. That 
 which might have been overlooked when I was 
 in Italy, becomes an unpardonable oflence when 
 1 am in Germany." Such was the violence with 
 ■which this haughty conqueror treated a nation 
 which was not only neutral, but had for nine 
 months furnished gratuitou.sly all the supplies 
 for his army; and such the degradation which 
 this ancient Republic prepared for itself, by the 
 timid policy which hoped to avoid danger by de- 
 clining to face it.* 
 
 The Venitian government at length saw that 
 Venitians at ^^^^ ^°^^^^ "^^ longer delay taking a 
 last resolve to decided part. A formidable insur- 
 act against the rectiou, Organized in the name and 
 insurgents. under the sanction of the Republi- 
 can authorities, was rapidly spreading in their 
 continental pos.sessions, great part of which had 
 already joined the Cisalpine Republic; and the 
 general-in-chief, instead of taking any steps to 
 quench the flame, had only demanded fresh con- 
 tributions from a state already exhausted by his 
 exactions. They resolved, therefore, by a large 
 majority, to act vigorously against the insur- 
 gents, but without venturing to engage in ho.s- 
 tilities with the French forces ; an ill-judged step, 
 the result of timidity and irresolution, which ex- 
 posed them to all the perils of war, without any 
 of its favourable chances; which irritated with- 
 out endangering the enemy, and allowed the 
 French general to select his own time for wreak- 
 ing out upon the state, alone and unbefriended, 
 the whole weight of Republican vengeance.t 
 
 The retreat of the French from the valley of 
 Hostilities ^''^ Adige, and the irruptions of the 
 break out be- Croatians into Friuli, encouraged 
 ixcPA-. tt' the Venitian government to corn- 
 two parties, ^nence hostilities on their refractory 
 subjects. But before that took place, tumults 
 and bloodshed had arisen spontaneously and 
 about the same time in many diff'erent parts of 
 the territory, in consequence of the furious pas- 
 sions which were ro'jsed by the collision of the 
 aristocracy on the one hand and the populace on 
 
 * Jom., X., 124, 125. Bott., ii.. 201. Th., ix., 85-8 
 Nap., IV., 87. t Bolt., li., 210, 211. Jom., x., 125. 
 
 the other. Matters also were precipitated by an 
 unwortliy fraud, perpetrated by the Republican 
 agents at Milan. This was the preparation and 
 publishing of an address, purporting to be from 
 Battaglia, governor of Verona, calling upon the 
 citizens faithful to Venice to rise in arms, to 
 murder the insurgents, and chase the French sol- 
 diers from the Venitian territory. This fabrica- 
 tion, which was written at Milan by a person in 
 the French interest, of the name of Salvador, 
 was extensively diffused by Landrieux, the secret 
 agent of the French general ; and though it bore 
 such absurdity on its face as might have detected 
 the forger}', yet, in the agitated state of the coun- 
 try, a spark was sufficient to fire the train ; and 
 hostilities, from the excited condition of men's 
 minds, would in all probability have been com- 
 menced, even without this unworthy device. 
 The mountaineers and the inhabitants of the Al- 
 pine valleys flew to arms, large bodies of the 
 peasantry collected together, and everything was 
 prepared for the irruption of a considerable force 
 into the plains of Brescia.* 
 
 The Democrats in Brescia, instigated by French 
 agents.t resolved instantly to com- t,, „ „„„ , 
 
 '^ ', .... ^ ^ -, -^ r 1 the counter 
 
 mence hostilUies. A body of twelve insuncciion 
 hundred men issued from their gates, spreads im 
 accompanied by four pieces of can- mensely 
 non, served by French gunners, to at- ^^ P" ' 
 tack Salo, a fortified town occupied by Veni- 
 tians, on the western bank of the Lake of Guarda. 
 The expedition reached the town, and was about 
 to take possession of it, when they were .sudden- 
 ly attacked and routed by a body of mountain- 
 eers, who made prisoners two hundred Poles, of 
 the legion of Dombrowski, and so completely 
 surprised the French that they narrowly escaped 
 the same fate. This success contributed im- 
 iTien.sely to excite the movements ; large bodies 
 of peasants issued from the valleys, and some 
 ten thousand armed men appeared before the 
 gates of Brescia. The inhabitants, how- 
 ever, prepared for their defence, and ' ''" " 
 soon a severe cannonade commenced on both 
 sides. General Ivilmaine, upon this, 
 collected a body of fifteen hundred men, *'"' "^P"'' 
 cliiefly Poles, under General Lahoz, attacked and 
 defeated the mountaineers, and drove them back 
 to their mountains ; they were soon after follow- 
 ed by the French flotilla and land-forces, and 
 Salo was taken and sacked.! 
 
 The intelligence of these events excited the ut<- 
 most indignation at Venice. The continued iu- 
 part taken by the French troops in decision of the 
 
 supporting the revolt could no long- senate in re- 
 
 er be concealed; and the advance g^rd to France, 
 of Laudohn, at the same time, in Tyrol, produced 
 such apparently well-founded hopes of the ap- 
 proaching downfall of the Republicans, that 
 nothing but the vicinity of Victor's corps pre- 
 vented the senate from openly declaring against 
 the French. The Austrian general spread, in the 
 vicinity of Verona, the most extravagant intelli- 
 gence ; that he was advancing at the head of sixty 
 thousand men; that Napoleon had been defeated 
 in the Noric Alps, and tliat the junction of the 
 corps in his rear would speedily compel him to 
 surrender. The.'-e reports excited the most vehe- 
 ment agitation at Verona, where the patrician 
 party, from their proximity to the revolutionary 
 cities, were in imminent danger, and a popular 
 insurrection might hourly be expected. The 
 
 * .lom , X., 126. Bott., ii., 211, 215. Th., ix., 116. 
 
 t Corresp. Confid de Niip., iv., 289. 
 
 t Jom., X., 126, 129. Bott., ii., 200. Th., ii., 90. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 469 
 
 Massacre at 
 "Verona. 
 
 government, however, deeming it too hazardous 
 to come to an open rupture witti the French, con- 
 tinued their temporizing policy ;* they even 
 agreed to give the million a month which the 
 Republican general demanded, and contented 
 them.selves with redoubling the vigilance of the 
 police, and arresting such of their own subjects 
 as were most suspected of seditious practices. 
 Meanwhile Napoleon, having received intelli- 
 gence of the steps which the Veni- 
 ofNapd^oif'^'^ '•^'^'^ government had adopted to 
 crush the insurrection in their do- 
 minions, and the check which the Republican 
 troops, in aiding them, had received at Salo, at- 
 fected the most violent indignation. Having al- 
 ready concluded his armistice at Leoben, and 
 agreed to abandon the whole continental posses- 
 sions of Venice to Austria, he foresaw in these 
 events the means of satisfying the avidity of the 
 Imperialists, and procuring advantageous terms 
 for the Republic, at the expense of the helpless 
 
 in.x, . , state of Venice. He therefore sent his 
 loth April. ., , T 1 -^i, 
 
 aid-de-camp, Junot, with a menacing 
 
 letter to the senate, in which he threatened them 
 with the whole weight of the Republican ven- 
 geance if they did not instantly liberate the Po- 
 lish and French prisoners, surrender to him the 
 authors of the hostilities, and disband all their 
 15th A 1 ^.rmaments. Junot was received by 
 ^" ' the senate, to whom he read the thun- 
 dering letter of Napoleon ; but they prevailed on 
 him to suspend his threats, and despatched two 
 senators to the Republican headquarters to en- 
 deavour to bring matters to an accommodation. t 
 But the very da_v after the deputies set out from 
 Venice for Leoben, an explosion took 
 place on the Adige, which gave the 
 French general too fair a pretext to 
 break ofi^ the negotiation. The levy en ?nasse of 
 the peasants, to the number of twenty thousand, I 
 had assembled in the neighbourhood of Verona; 
 three thousand Venitian troops had been sent 
 into that town by the senate, and the near approach 
 of the Austrians from the Tyrol promised etfec- 
 l~th A 1 ^^^^ support. The tocsin sounded, the 
 ^'^' ■ people flew to arms, and put to death 
 in cold blood four hundred wounded French in 
 the hospitals. Indignant at these atrocious cru- 
 elties. General Balland, who commanded the 
 French garrison in the forts, fired on the city 
 with redhot balls. Conflagrations soon broke 
 out in several quarters, and, although various at- 
 tempts at accommodation were made, they were 
 all rendered abortive by the furious passions of 
 the multitude. The cannonade continued on 
 both sides, the forts were closely invested, the 
 city in many parts was in flames, the French 
 already began to feel the pressure of hunger, and 
 the garrison of Fort Chiusa, which capitulated 
 from want of provisions, was inhumanly put to 
 death, to revenge the ravages of the bombard- 
 ment. j 
 
 But the hour of retribution was at hand, and a 
 IStli Anril terrible reverse awaited the sangui- 
 Which IS naiy excesses of the Venitian insur- 
 speedily sup- rection. The day after hostilities 
 pressed by the commenced, the intelligence of the 
 French troops, armistice was received, and the Au.s- 
 trian troops retired into the Tyrol; two days 
 after, the columns of General Chabran appeared 
 round the town and invested its walls; while, to 
 
 * Th., ix., 112. Nap., iv., 139. Bott., ii., 211. 
 t Bott., ii., 217, 218. Th., ix., 113. Jom., x,, 131. 
 t .Urn., X., 132, 135. Th., ix., 120. BaJland and Kil- 
 maiiie's Account. Confid. Corresp. de Na;f.* lii., 124, 107. 
 
 complete their misfortunes, on the 23d the ac- 
 counts of the signature of the preliminaries of 
 Leoben arrived. The multitude immediately 
 passed from the highest exaltation to the deepest 
 dejection ; and they now .sought only to deprecate 
 the wrath of the conqueror, to whom they had 
 given so much cause of hostility, yubmissioa 
 was immediately made ; the authors of 
 the cruelties shot ; a general disarming ^^"^' 
 
 eflectSd among the peasantry ; and a contribution 
 of 1,100,000 francs levied on the city. The 
 plains were speedily covered with French troops • 
 the united divisions of Victor and Kilmaine oc- 
 cupied successively Vicenza and Padua, and 
 soon the French standards were discovered from 
 the steeples of Venice on the shores of their 
 Lagunse.* 
 
 These excesses were the work of popular pas- 
 sion, equally sanguinary and inconstant, whea 
 not rightly directed, in all ages and countries; 
 but an event of the same kind stained the last 
 days of the Venitian government itself A. 
 French vessel of four guns approached „, , 
 the entrance of the harbour of Lido, in ^ 
 opposition to a rule of the Venitian senate, to 
 which all nations, not excepting the English 
 themselves, were in use to yield obedience. A 
 cannonade ensued between the batteries 
 on shore and the vessel, and the French ^^^ij"* 
 ship having been captured by the galleys 
 on the station, the captain and four of the crew 
 were massacred, and eleven wounded. Imme- 
 diately after, a decree of the senate publicly ap- 
 plauded this cruel and unnecessary act.t 
 
 These sanguinary proceedings sufficiently ver- 
 ify the old observation, that pusillanimity and 
 cruelty are allied to each other ; and that none are 
 so truly humane as the brave and the free. 
 They do not, in the slightest degree, palliate the 
 treachery of the French or the rapacity of the 
 Imperialists, the former of whom had instigated 
 the revolt of the Venitian Democrats, and signed 
 the partition of Venice Ijcforc either of these 
 events took place ;i but they go far to diminish 
 the regret which otherwise would be felt at the 
 success of unprincipled ambition, and the fall of 
 the oldest republic of the Christian world. 
 
 The Venitian senate, thunderstruck with the in- 
 telligence they had received, did their utmost to 
 appease the wrath of the victors. Their situation 
 
 * Nap., iv., 141. Jom., i., 140. Bott., ii., 232. Kil- 
 maine's Report. Conf. Corresp., iii., 155, 167. 
 
 t Bott., ii., 242, 243. .lorn., x., 139. 
 
 t The massacre at Verona took place on the 17th of April, 
 that at Lido on the 23d, while the preliminaries of Leoben, 
 which assigned the whole of the continental Venitian terri- 
 tories to Austria, were agreed to on tlie 9th, at Judemberg-, 
 while the formal treaty was drawn up on the 16th, and 
 signed on the 18th, in Carinthia, before even the first of 
 these events had occurred. Napoleon has given the clearest 
 proof of his sense of the unjustifiable nature of this aggres- 
 sion, by having, in his memoirs on this subject, entirely kepn 
 out of view the dates, and made it appear as if his menacing 
 letter by Junot to the senate was the consequence of the 
 massacre of April 17, at Verona, when, in fact, it wax dated 
 the 9th of April, at Judemberg, at a time when, su far from 
 the Venitian government having given any cause of com- 
 plaint to the French, they had only suffered aggressions at 
 their hands, in the assistance openly lent to the Democratic 
 rebels, and the attack by the Republican forces on Salo. 
 Conflicts, indeed, had taken place between the Venitiaa 
 insurgents, stimulated by the French, and the aristocratic 
 adherents ; but the government had committed no act of 
 hostility, the monthly supplies were in a course of regular 
 payment, and the French ambassador was still at Venice. — 
 See Napoleon, iv., 142. By not attending minutely to this 
 matter. Sir W. Scott has totally misrepresented the trans- 
 actions which led to the fall of Venice, and drawn them la 
 far too favourable colours for the hero whose life he has so 
 ably delineated.— See Scott's Napoleon, iii., 315, 316. 
 
470 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIII. 
 
 Efforts of the ^^^^ become to the last degree peril- 
 Venitian sen- ous ; for they were precipitated into 
 ate to avert hostilities with the victorious Repub- 
 the storm. jj^.^ ^^ tjjg yg,.y (jme when Austria, 
 discomfited, was retiring from the strife, and 
 ■when their own dominions had become a prey 
 to the most furious discord. The Democratic 
 party, following the French standards, had re- 
 volted at Vicenza, Treviso, Padua, and all^ the 
 continental cities, while a vehement faction in 
 the capital itself was threatening with overthrow 
 the constitution of the state. A deputation was 
 sent to Gratz to endeavour to pacify the conquer- 
 or, and another to Paris, with ample funds at the 
 command of both, to corrupt the sources of in- 
 fluence at these places. They succeeded, by the 
 distribution of a very large sum, in gaining over 
 the Directory ;♦ but all their efforts with Napo- 
 leon were fruitless. He was not only a charac- 
 ter totally inaccessible to that species of corrup- 
 tion, but was too deeply implicated in the parti- 
 tion of the Venitian territories, which he had 
 just signed, to forego so fortunate a pretext for 
 vindicating it as these excesses had atforded.t 
 
 Venice had still at its command most formi- 
 Eesources ^^^^^ means of defence, if the spirit 
 still at the of the inhabitants had been equal to 
 command of the emergency. They had within the 
 Venice. ^ity 8000 seamen and 14,000 regular 
 troops, 37 galleys and ItJO gunboats, carrying 
 800 cannon, for the defence ot the Lagunse ; and 
 all the approaches to the capital were command- 
 ed by powerful batteries. Provisions existed for 
 eight months ; fresh water for two ; the nearest 
 islands were beyond the reach of cannon-shot 
 from the shore, and, with the assistance of the 
 fleets of England, they might have bid defiance 
 to all the armies of France. j The circumstan- 
 ces of the Republic were not nearly so desperate 
 as they had been in fonner times, when they 
 extricated themselves with glory from their diffi- 
 culties ; when the league of Cambray had wrest- 
 ed from them all their territorial possessions, or 
 ■when the Genoese fleet had seized the gates of 
 the Lagunse, and blockaded their fleet at Mal- 
 mocco. But the men were no longer the same ; 
 the poison of Democracy had extinguished every 
 feeling of patriotism in the middling, the enjoy- 
 ments of luxury every desire for independence 
 among the senatorial classes ; ages of prosperity 
 had corrupted the sources of virtue, and the in- 
 sane passion for equality vainly rose like a pass- 
 ing meteor to iUuminate the ruins of a falling 
 state. 
 
 On the 3d of May Napoleon published from 
 "M 3 i"97 Pa^loaa-Nuova his declaration of war 
 W^ declared again.st Venice. He there com- 
 by Napoleon plained that the senate had taken ad- 
 against Yen- vantage of the holy week to organ- 
 ^'^*' ize a furious war against France ; 
 
 that vast bodies of peasantry were armed and 
 disciplined by troops sent out of the capital ; 
 that a crusade against the French was preached 
 in all the churches ; their detached bodies mur- 
 dered, and the sick in the hospitals massacred ; 
 the crew of a French galley slain under the eyes 
 of the senate, and the authors of the tragedy 
 publicly rewarded for the atrocious act. To this 
 manifesto the Venitians replied, that the massa- 
 cres complained of were not the work ofgovem- 
 
 * Two hundred thousand crowns, as a private bribe, were 
 placed at the disposal of Barras.— See Hardenberg, v., 19, 
 aiid Napoleon in O'Meara, ii., ITl. 
 
 t Nap., iv., 144. Jom., x., 142. Bot., ii., 223, 224. 
 
 t Th., IX., 128. 
 
 ment, but of individuals whom they 
 could not control ; that the popular ^"'"[^"^dlg 
 passions had been excited by the un- 
 governable insolence of the Republican sol- 
 diery, and of the Democratic party whom they 
 had roused to open rebellion; that the first act.s 
 of aggression were committed by the French 
 commanders, by publicly assisting the rebels in 
 various encounters with the Venitian forces, long 
 before the massacres complained of were com- 
 mitted ; and that the only fault which they had 
 really committed consisted in their not having 
 earlier divined the ambitious designs of the 
 French general, and joined all their forces to the 
 Austrian armies when combating for a cause 
 which must sooner or later be that of every inde- 
 pendent state.* 
 
 The French general was not long in following 
 up his menaces, and preparing the execution of 
 that unjustifiable partition which had been deci- 
 ded upon between him and the imperial cabinet. 
 The French troops, in pursuance of the treaty 
 of Leoben, rapidly evacuated Carinthia, and, re- 
 turning by forced marches on their steps, soon 
 appeared on the confines of the Lagunse, within 
 sight of the tower of St. Mark. As they advan- 
 ced, the Republic became a prey to the passions, 
 and torn by the factions which are the general 
 forerunners of national ntin. At the news of 
 the proclamation of war, all the towns of the 
 
 continental possessions of Venice re- ..^ . , 
 
 ,1 -^ ^ ^T_ ■» 1 T- Universal re- 
 
 volted agamst the capital. Every volt of all the 
 city proclaimed its independence, and continental 
 appointed a provisional government ; towns of the 
 Bergamo, Brescia, Padua, Vicenza, ^ko"ries" ^"' 
 Bassano, Udina, constituted so many 
 separate republics, who organized themselves 
 after the model of the French Republic, sup- 
 pressed the convents, and confiscated their prop- 
 erty, abolished all feudal rights, established na- 
 tional guards, and hoisted the tricolour flag.t 
 
 Meanwhile Venice, itself a prey to the most 
 vehement faction, was in a cruel state 
 of perplexity. The senators met at the J- ^ay. 
 doge's palace, and endeavoured, by un- 
 timely concessions, to satisfy the demands and 
 revive the patriotism of the popular party: a 
 vain expedient, founded upon utter ignorance of 
 Democratic ambition, which concessions, dicta- 
 ted by fear, can never satisfy, but which, in such 
 a successful course, rashes forward, like an in- 
 dividual plunged in the career of passion, upon 
 its own destruction. The patricians found them- 
 selves deprived of all the resources of govern- 
 ment ; a furious rabble filled the . 
 streets, demanding, with loud cries, vemce ftself. 
 the abdication of the senate, the im- 
 mediate admission of the French troops, and the 
 establishment of a government formed on a high- 
 ly Democratic basis ; a revolutionary committee, 
 formed of the most active of the middling or- 
 ders, was in open communication Avith the French 
 army, and rose in audacity with every conces- 
 sion' from the government: the sailors of the 
 fleet had manifested symptoms of insubordina- 
 tion ; and the fidelity of the Sclavonians, who 
 constitiued the strength of the garrison, could 
 not, it was ascertained, he relied on. These ele- 
 ments of anarchy, sufficient to have shaken the 
 courage of the Roman senate, were too power- 
 ful for the weak and vacillating councils of the 
 Venitian oligarchy. Yielding to the tempest 
 
 * Bot.\ii., 255. Nap., iv., 147, 149. 
 .t Nap., IV., 151. 152. Jom., x., 144. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 471 
 
 which they could not withstand, they assembled 
 M 1" The '" luounirul silence on the 12th of 
 sen^e'abUi- May, and, alter passing in review 
 cate their uu- ihe exhausted resources and distract- 
 thoriiy. ed State ol' tlie Republic, voted, amid 
 
 the tears of all friends to tlieir country, by a 
 majority of live hundred and twelve to fourteen 
 voices, the abdication of their authority. Shouts 
 from the giddy multitude rent the sky ; the tree 
 of Liberty was hoisted on the Place of St. Mark ; 
 the Democrats entered, amid bloodshed and plun- 
 der, upon the exercise of their newborn sover- 
 eignty ; and the Revolutionary party fondly ima- 
 gined they were launched into a boundless ca- 
 reer of glory. But the real patriots, the men of 
 sense and firmness, lamented the decision of the 
 senate, and, retiring in silence to their homes, 
 exclaimed, with tears, " Venice is no more ; St. 
 Mark has fallen."* 
 
 While the Revolutionists were thus bartering 
 their country for the vain chimera 
 still endeav-*' of Democratic equality, and the un- 
 our to resist worthy descendants of Dandolo and 
 the subjii?a- Morosini were surrendering without 
 sta"e°'^ '''^ ^ Struggle the glories and the inde- 
 pendence of a thousand years, more 
 generous .sentiments burst tbrth among the la- 
 bouring classes, often the last depositaries, in a 
 corrupted age, of public virtue. No sooner was 
 the mournful act communicated to the people, 
 than they flocked together from all quarters, and 
 with loud cries demanded the restoration of the 
 standard of St. Mark, and arms to combat for the 
 independence of their country. Several bloody 
 contests ensued between them and the Revolution- 
 
 ary party ; but the populace, however 
 faUs '^""^'' ardent, cannot maintain a contest for 
 
 any length of time when destitute of 
 leaders. The cannon of the Republicans dis- 
 persed the frantic assemblages; and, amid the 
 shouts of the insane Revolutionists, the French 
 troops were conducted by Venitian boats to the 
 Place of St. Mark, where a foreign standard had 
 not been seen for fifteen hundred years, but where 
 the colours of independence were never again 
 destined to wave.t 
 
 The French troops were not long in securing 
 Joy of the to themselves the spoils of their revo- 
 Democratic lutionary allies. The Golden Book, 
 party. i\^q record of the senators of Venice, 
 
 ■was burned at the foot of the tree of Liberty ; 
 and while the Democrats were exulting over the 
 destruction of this emblem of their ancient sub- 
 jection, their allies were depriving them of all 
 the means of future independence. The treasures 
 of the Republic were instantly seized by the 
 French generals ; but instead of the vast sums 
 they expected, 1,800,000 francs, belonging to the 
 Duke of Modena, were all that fell into their 
 hands. All that remained in the celebrated har- 
 bour of St. Mark's was made prize ; but such 
 was its dilapidated condition, that they with diffi- 
 culty fitted out two sixty-four-gun ships, and a 
 few frigates, out of the arsenal of the Giueen of the 
 Adriatic. The remainder of the fleet, consisting 
 of five sail of the line, six frigates, and eleven 
 galleys, were not in a condition to keep the sea, 
 and Admiral Brueys received orders from the 
 Directory to set sail to secure the fruit of Repub- 
 lican fraternization. In the middle of July he 
 
 * Solknwski's report to Napoleon. Conf. Corr., iii., 235, 
 241. Bott., ii.,2T3, 275. Th., iv., 138. 
 
 t Bott.. li.. 276, 278. Th.. ix., 138, 139. Jom., x., 
 150. Sulkowski's report to Napoleon. Confid. Corresp., in., 
 235,241. 
 
 arrived at Venice, where his fleet was paid, equip- 
 ped, and fed at the expense of the inlant Repub- 
 lic; a burden which began to ojien the eyes of 
 the Revolutionary party, when too late, to the 
 consequences of their conduct. The bitter fruits 
 of Republican alliance were still TieatyoflGta 
 more poignantly felt when the con- May betweea 
 ditions of the treaty of Milan, sign- Nai>oieon and 
 ed by Napoleon with the new gov- ^'^"'<'<'- 
 ernment of Venice, became known, which stipu- 
 lated the abolition of the aristocracy, the forma- 
 tion of a popular government, the introduction 
 of a division of French troops into the capital, a 
 contribution of tlii^ee millions in money, three 
 millions in naval stores, and the surrender of 
 three ships of the line and two frigates, with 
 many illustrious works of art.* Among the rest, 
 the famous horses brought in the car of victory 
 from Corinth to Rome, thence to Constantinople, 
 and thence to Venice, were carried olf in triumph 
 by the conquering Republic.t 
 
 While these memorable events were going 
 forward on the southern side of the state of the 
 Alps, the war languished on the Iron- armies on 
 tier of the Rhine. Latour command- '''^ Rhine. 
 ed the imperial army on the Upper Rhine; his 
 forces, after the departure of the veteran bands 
 under the archduke, did not exceed thirty-four 
 thousand infantry and six thousand horse, while 
 those under the orders of Werneck, in the Lower 
 Rhine, were about thirty thousand, and twenty 
 thousand were shut up within the fortresses oa 
 that stream. The French forces were much more 
 numerous ; the army of the Rhine and Moselle, 
 under Moreau, being sixty thousand strong, while 
 that of the Sambre and Meuse, cantoned between. 
 Dusseldorf and Coblentz, amounted to nearly 
 seventy thousand. The latter was under the 
 command of Hoche, whose vigour and abilities 
 gave every promise of success in the ensuing 
 campaign, while the possession of the tetes-diu- 
 pont at Dusseldorf and Neuwied afforded a fa- 
 cility for commencing operations which those on. 
 the upper branch of the river did not possess 
 since the loss of Kehl and the teLc-du-pcmt at 
 Huningen.t 
 
 The rapidity and energy with which Napoleon 
 commenced operations on the banks of the Tag- 
 liamento before the middle of March, inflamed 
 the rivalry of the generals on the Rhine, while 
 the interests of the Republic imperiously required 
 that the campaign should simultaneously be 
 commenced in both quarters, in order that the 
 army most advanced should not find itself en- 
 gaged alone with the strength of the Austrian 
 monarchy. Nevertheless, such was the exhaust- 
 ed state of the treasury, from the total ruin of 
 the paper system, and the dilapidation of the pub- 
 lic revenues during the convulsions of the Revo- 
 lution, that the Directory was unable to furnish 
 
 * Jom., X., 152. Bott., ii., 277, 279. Tli.. i.v.. 140_. See 
 the secret articles in Corresp. Confid. de Nap., ill., 178. 
 
 t The seizure of these horses was au act of pure robbery. 
 The Venitians, in the secret articles, agreed to surrender 
 "twenty pictures and five ,iundied manuscripts," but no 
 statues. Nevertheless, the French carried off tlie horses 
 from the Place of St. Mark, and put them on the tnum|)hal 
 arch in the Tuileries. In like manner, the secret articles 
 only bound the Venitians to furnish three millions' worth of 
 naval stores, but Napoleon ordered the French admiral, 
 Brueys, who was sent to superintend the spoliation, to cany 
 off the whoh stores to Toulon ; and the Directory wrote to 
 Berthier ui these terms: "Que toute rartillene, tons les 
 magasins, de g-uerre et de bouche, que se troiivait i Venise, 
 soient transportes a Corfou, Ancone, et Ferrare. ne iiianiere 
 que vous rendiez Venise sans une seule piice de canon."— 
 See Secret Corresp. de Napoleon, hi., 170, and iv., 427. 
 
 I Jom., X.. 71. Th., ix., 110. 
 
472 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chaf. XXIII. 
 
 Moreau with the equipage necessary for crossing 
 the Rhine, and he was obliged to go in person to 
 Paris, in the beginning of April, and pledge his 
 
 Erivate fortune to procure that necessarj- part of 
 is equipments.* At length, the obstacles hav- 
 ing been overcome, he returned to the Rhine, and 
 completed his preparations for crossing that 
 river. 
 
 The point selected for this important enterprise 
 Passage of was Diersheim ; the preparations of 
 that nver at the enemy in the neighbourhood of 
 Diersheim. Strasburg rendering hazardous any 
 attempt to cross near that town. Seventy barks 
 were collected in the 111, a small stream which 
 falls into the Rhine, aud directed to Diersheim 
 on the night of the 19th of April, while two false 
 attacks above and below that place were pre- 
 pared, to distract the attention of the enemy. 
 A 1 Delays unavoidable in the collection of 
 ^" ' the flotilla having retarded the embar- 
 cation of the advanced guard till six o'clock on 
 the following morning, it was evident that a sur- 
 prise was impossible, the Austrians having taken 
 the alann, and appearing in considerable force 
 on the opposite shore. The boats, however, 
 pulled gallantly across the stream till they came 
 within reach of the grapeshot from the enemy's 
 cannon, when the shower of balls forced them' to 
 take shelter behind an island, where they landed, 
 and made prisoners three hundred Croatians who 
 composed its garrison. From this they forded 
 the narrow branch of the Rhine which separates 
 the island from the German shore, and made 
 themselves masters of Diersheim. Towards noon 
 they were there attacked by the Austrians, who 
 had received a re-enforcement of four thousand 
 men from a neighbouring camp ; but the attack 
 was gallantly repulsed by Desaix and Davocst, 
 who there gave earnest of that cool intrepidity and 
 sagacious foresight by which his future career 
 was so eminently distinguished. During the 
 whole day, the Imperialists renewed their attacks 
 with great intrepidity, and, in the end, with twelve 
 thousand men ; but they were constantly repulsed 
 by the ob.stinate valour of the Republican infan- 
 21 t A 1 ^^-'' ^^ ^^^ following day, the attack 
 ^" ■ was renewed with increased forces, but 
 no better success ; and the bridge having, in the 
 mean time, been established, Moreau began to 
 debouch in great strength, upon which the Aus- 
 trians commenced their retreat, du- 
 ring which they sustained consider- 
 able loss from the Republican caval- 
 ry. Thus, by a bold and able exertion, -was the 
 passage of the Rhine secured, and all the fruits of 
 the bloody sieges of Kehl and Huningen lost to 
 the Imperialists. In these actions the loss of the 
 Austrians was 3000 prisoners and twenty pieces 
 of cannon, besides 2000 killed and wounded.t 
 When it is recollected that this passage was 
 gained, not by stratagem, but main force, in pres- 
 ence of a considerable part of the Austrian army, 
 and that it undid at once all the advantages 
 gained by them in the preceding winter, it must 
 ever be regarded as a glorious deed of arms, and 
 one of the most memorable militar}' achieve- 
 ments of the Revolutionary war. 
 
 Taught by the disasters of the preceding cam- 
 Operations Pai?n. Moreau resolved to push the 
 cut short tiy Corps of Starray with vigour, and pre- 
 the armistice vent that methodical retreat which 
 of Leoben. j^^^j proved SO beneficial to the Impe- 
 rialists in the previous year. For this purpose 
 
 And defeat of 
 the Austrians. 
 
 * Th., IX., no. Jom., X., 74. 
 t Jom., X., 77, 85. Th., ix., 111. 
 
 St. C>T, ir., 165, 183. 
 
 he pushed his advanced guard across the Ren- 
 chen the verj'^ day after the passage was com- 
 pleted ; and was in the high road to farther suc- 
 cesses, when he was interrupted by the intelli- 
 gence of the annistice of Leoben, which termi- 
 nated the campaign in that quarter.* 
 
 The campaign was in like manner cut short in 
 the midst of opening success on the Operations of 
 Lower Rhine. The army, put there Iloche on the 
 at the disposition of Hoche, was one Lower Rhine.. 
 of the most numerous and well appointed which, 
 the Republic ever sent into the field, and particu- 
 larly remarkable for the numbers and iine condi- 
 tion of the cavalrj' and artillery. Hoche resolved 
 to effect the passage, with the bulk of his forces, 
 from Neuwied, and to facilitate that purpose by 
 a simultaneous movement at Dusseldorf. The 
 Austrians were so far deceived by these move- 
 ments, that they advanced with the greater part; 
 of their forces to Altenkirchen, in order to stop 
 the progress of the troops from Dusseldorf, leav- 
 ing only a small body in front of Neuwied. No 
 sooner did he perceive they had fall- ig,)^ ^ ■, 
 en into the snare, than Hoche de- Passage of the 
 bouched rapidly from the tttc-du-pont Rhine forced 
 at that place at the head of thirty-six ^'^ Neuwied. : 
 thousand men. Kray commanded the Imperial- 
 ists in that quarter; and his position, blocking 
 up the roads leading from the bridge, was strong- 
 1}" fortified, and covered with powerful batteries. 
 The attack of the Republicans was impetuous; 
 but the resistance of the Imperialists, though 
 greatly inferior in number, was not less vigor- 
 ous, and no advantage was gained by the assail- 
 ants till the fortified village of Hulsendorf was 
 carried by a concentric attack from several of the 
 French masses, after which the other redoubts,, 
 taken in flank, were successively stormed, and 
 the Austrians driven hack, with the loss of five 
 thousand men in killed, wounded, and prisoners, 
 twenty-seven pieces of cannon, and sixty cais- 
 sons. At the same time, the left wing of the- 
 army crossed the Sieg, advanced to Ukerath and 
 Altenkirchen, which were abandoned as soon as 
 it was known that the bulk of the enemy's forces 
 was advancing from Neuwied, and on the fol- 
 lowing night they effected their junction with the 
 victors on the field of battle. + 
 
 After this disaster, Werneck retired to Neukir- 
 chen, and united the two divisions of .„ , .. 
 his army ; but, finding that he was un- ^" *' 
 
 able to make head against the immense forces of 
 his opponent, which were nearly double his 
 own, fell back behind the Lahn. Thither he 
 was immediately followed by the victorious gen- 
 eral ; and the Imperialists having continued their- 
 retreat towards the Maine, Hoche conceived the 
 design of cutting them off" before they crossed 
 that river. For this purpose, he pushed fonvard 
 his right wing, under Lefebvre, to Frankfort, 
 while the centre and left continued to press the 
 enemy on the high road, by which they continued 
 their "retreat. The advanced guard 2ist April, 
 of "Lefebvre was at the gates of that Hostilities' 
 opulent city, when hostilities were stopped by the 
 su.'ipended by the intelligence of the nrmistice of 
 preliminaries of Leoben, to the infi- i''=°"<="- 
 nite mortification of the French general, who saw 
 himself thus interrupted by his more fortunate 
 rival in a career of success, from which the most 
 glorious effects might have been anticipated to 
 the Republic! 
 
 * Jom., x.,86. TK,. ix., HI. St. Cvr, iv., 184, 190. 
 
 t Jom., X., 95, 96. Th., ix., 110. Ncy, i., 271, 276. 
 
 X Jom.. I., 96, 106. Th., ix., 110. y 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 473 
 
 Prussia, during this evenlful year, adhered 
 State of Prus- Steadily to the system ol' armed neu- 
 siaduringthis traiily, inclining rather to France, 
 year. Its pol- and supporting the protection of the 
 ''^y- associated states within the prescri- 
 
 bed line, which was begun by the treaty of Bale 
 in 1795, and consolidated by the convention of 
 Death of the ''i^ 5'^ of August, 1796. The health 
 kinj. Nov. of the king had for long been visibly 
 16, 1797. declining, and he at length expired 
 at Berlin on the Itith of November, having, as 
 his last act, bestowed the decoration of the order 
 of the Black Eagle on his favourite minister 
 Haugwilz.* 
 
 Though neither endowed with shining civil 
 
 ... , . nor remarkable military talents, few 
 Ills character. , , r ' i . 
 
 raonarchs have conferred greater 
 
 benefits on their country than this sovereign. t 
 Among the many and valuable territorial acqui- 
 sitions which he made is to be reckoned the im- 
 portant commercial city and fortress of Dantzig, 
 which commands the navigation of the Vistula, 
 and holds the keys of Poland. The army also, 
 during his reign, was increased by 25,000 men ; 
 and, like his great predecessor, he ever consider- 
 ed that ami as the main foundation of the public 
 strength. Much of this increase is doubtless to 
 be ascribed to a fortunate combination of extra- 
 neous things ; and it chiefly arose from the 
 monstrous partition of Poland. Yet something 
 also must be admitted to have arisen from the 
 wisdom of the cabinet, which skilfully turned 
 these circumstances to its own advantage, and 
 contrived to reap nothing but profit from a 
 stormy period, deeply checkered to other states 
 by disaster.; But in the close of his reign, the 
 national jealousy of Austria, and partiality for 
 France, were carried an unreasonable length ; 
 and in the unwise desertion of the cause of Eu- 
 rope by this important monarchy, is to be found 
 one of the principal causes of the disasters which 
 subsequently befell itself. 
 
 He was simple and unostentatious in his hab- 
 its; addicted to conviviality, but rather on ac- 
 count of the pleasures of the table than any ca- 
 pacity to appreciate the refinements of conversa- 
 tion ; good-humoured in general, but subject to 
 occasional and ungovernable fits of pa-ssion. 
 Hardly adequate to the consideration ol impor- 
 tant subjects of policy himself, he at least had 
 the sense to intrust the administration of public 
 affairs to able ministers. He was fond of mu- 
 sic, and distinguished by a marked predilection 
 for architecture, which caused his reign to be il- 
 lu.strated by the construction of several noble and 
 imposing edifices. But his facility and passions 
 led him into several irregularities in private life ; 
 and the court, during his latter years, was scan- 
 dalized by the great ascendency obtained by his 
 profuse and rapacious mistress, the Countess 
 Lichtenau, who was called to a severe account 
 for her malversations by his successor.§ 
 
 Very different was the character of the youth- 
 Accession of ful sovereign who now ascended the 
 
 Frederic Wil- throne — FrEDKRIC WlLLL-iM III., 
 
 ham in. His afterward called to such important 
 character. destinies on the theatre of Europe. 
 Bom on the 3d of August, 1770, he was twenty- 
 
 * Hard., v., 33. 
 
 t Dunn? his reign, the territory of the monarchy was 
 augmented hy 2200 square (German miles, and its popula- 
 tion by 2.500,000 souls. He received from his uncle, the 
 great Frederic, 3600 square miles, and 6.000.000 of inhabi- 
 tants : and left to his successor 5600 square miles, and 
 8,500.000 inhabitants. 
 
 i Hard., v., 33. I, Hard., t., 31, 37. 
 
 seven years of age when he succeeded to tho 
 crown ; and his character and habits already- 
 presaged the immortal glories of his reign. Se- 
 vere and regular in private life, he had lived 
 amid a dissolute court, a patternofeveiy domes- 
 tic virtue ; married early to a beautiful and high- 
 spirited princess, he bore to her that faithful at- 
 tachment which her captivating qualities were 
 so well fitted to excite, and wliich afterward at- 
 tracted the admiration, though they could not re- 
 lax the policy, or melt the sternness, or excite a 
 spark of chivalry in the cold and intellectual 
 breast of Napoleon.* He entertained a sincere 
 though undeserved distrust of his own capacity 
 in judging of state affairs, which at first threw 
 him, to an unreasonable degree, under the gov- 
 ernment of his ministers, but was gradually re- 
 moved during the difficulties and necessities of 
 the later periods of his reign. t 
 
 His first acts were in the highest degree popu- 
 lar. On the day of his accession. Early meas- 
 he wrote a circular to the constitu- uresandpoli- 
 ted authorities, inlbrming them that ""y- 
 he was aware of the abuses which had crept into 
 various branches of the public service, and was 
 resolved to rectify them ; and, at the same time, 
 gave an earnest of his sincerity by abolishing, 
 the monopoly of tobacco, which his father had. 
 re-established. The public indignation, rather 
 than his own wishes, rendered the trial of the 
 Countess Lichtenau unavoidably necessary : her 
 wealth was known to be enormous, and many of 
 the crown jewels were found in her possession. 
 She was obliged to surrender the greater part of 
 her ill-gotten treasures, and assigned a pension, 
 of 15,000 francs, the remainder of her great for- 
 tune being settled on the hospital of Berlin. At 
 the same time, the king, under the directions of 
 Hardenberg, declared, in a circular addressed to 
 all the states in the north of Germany, his reso- 
 lution to continue those measures for the secu- 
 rity of that part of the empire which his father 
 had commenced ; and in a holograph letter to- 
 the Directory, his wish to cultivate a good un- 
 derstanding with the French Republic, which, 
 ultimately led to such disastrous eflTects to Prus- 
 sia and Europe.; 
 
 In concluding the survey of these memorable 
 contests, it is impossible to refuse Retrospect of 
 to the genius of Napoleon that trib- the astomsh- 
 ute which is justly due to it, not mg successes, 
 only for the triumphs in Italy, but "<" Napoleon, 
 for those in Germany. When he began his im- 
 mortal campaign upon the summit of the Mari- 
 time Alps, the Imperialists, greatly superior to 
 their antagonists, were preparing to cross the 
 Rhine and carry the war into the territory' of the 
 Republic. It was his brilliant victories in Pied- 
 mont and Lombardy which compelled the Aulic 
 Council to detach Wurmscr, with thirty thou- 
 sand men, from the Upper Rhine to the valley of 
 the Adige, and thus not only reduced the Austri- 
 ans to the defensive in Germany, but enabled the 
 Republicans to caiTy the war into the centre of 
 that country. Subsequently, the desperate con- 
 flicts round the walls of Mantua drew off" the 
 whole resources of the Austrian monarchy into 
 that quarter, and the advance into the Alps of Ca- 
 rinthia compelled the draught of thirty thousand 
 of the best troops from Swabia to defend the he- 
 reditary states. Thus, with an army which,, 
 though frequently re-enforced, never at one time 
 
 * Napoleon in Las Casas, ii., 228. 
 t Hard.,v., 36, 43. 
 
 t Hard., v., 36. 
 
474 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIII. 
 
 amounted to sixty thousand men, he not only 
 vanquished six successive armies in Italy and 
 the Julian Alps, but drew upon himself great 
 part of the weight of the German war, and linal- 
 ly, without any other aid than that derived from 
 the valour of his own soldiers, carried hostilities 
 into the hereditary states, and dictated a glorious 
 peace within sight of the steeples of Vienna. 
 
 Meanwhile, Napoleon, sheathing for a time 
 Commence- ^is victorious sword, established 
 ment of nego- himself at the chateau of Montebel- 
 tiaiions at Udi- lo, near Milan; a beautiful sum- 
 na, near Mi- j^gj. residence, which overlooked 
 dour ofNapo- great part of the plain of Lombar- 
 leon's court dy. Negotiations for a final peace 
 there. were there immediately commen- 
 
 <:ed; before the end of May, the powers of 
 the plenipotentiaries had been verified, and the 
 work of treaties was in progress. There the 
 future Emperor of the West held his court in 
 more than regal splendour ; the ambassadors of 
 the Emperor of Germany, of the pope, of Genoa, 
 Venice, Naples, Piedmont, and the Swiss Repub- 
 lic, assembled to examine the claims of the sev- 
 eral states which were the subject of discussion ; 
 and there weightier matters were to be deter- 
 mined, and dearer interests were at stake, than 
 had ever been submitted to European diploma- 
 cy since the iron crown was placed on the brows 
 of Charlemagne. Josephine Bonaparte there re- 
 ceived the homage due to the transcendent glories 
 of her youthful husband; Pauline displayed those 
 brilliant charms which afterward shone with so 
 much lustre at the court of the Tuileries ; and 
 the ladies of Italy, captivated by the splendour 
 of the spectacle, hastened to swell the illustrious 
 train, and vied with each other for the admira- 
 tion of those warriors whose deeds had filled 
 the world with their renown. Already Napoleon 
 acted as a sovereign prince ; his power exceeded 
 that of any living monarch ; and he had entered 
 on that dazzling existence which afterward en- 
 tranced and subdued the world.* 
 
 The establishment of a republic on a Democrat- 
 Revolution at Jc basis on both sides of the Po, the 
 Genoa brought fermentation in the Venitian states, 
 about by the and the general belief of the irresisti- 
 French. Y)\e power of the French armies, soon 
 
 •excited an extraordinary^ degree of enthusiasm at 
 Genoa. The government there was vested in an 
 aristocracy, which, although less jealous and ex- 
 clusive than at Venice, w-as far more resolute and 
 determined. As in all other old popular constitu- 
 tions, the influence in the state had, in the prog- 
 ress of time, and from the gradual decay of pub- 
 lic spirit, become vested in an inconsiderable 
 number of families ; but the principle of gov- 
 ernment was by no means exclusive, and many 
 plebeians had recently been inscribed in the 
 Golden Book, who had raised themselves to a 
 rank worthy of that distinction. But these grad- 
 ual changes were far from being sufficient for 
 the fervent spirit of the age. The Democratic 
 party, under the secret influence of the French, 
 had long been in activity; and it was calculated 
 by the friends of revolution, that the resistance 
 of the aristocratic senators could not possibly be 
 prolonged beyond the end of Ausnst.t 
 
 A treaty had been concluded with the French 
 Directory by which Genoa purchased its neu- 
 trality by the payment of two millions of francs, 
 a loan to the same amount, and the recall of the 
 
 * Th., ix., 144, 145. Nap., iv,, 155. li.i'ir.. i . 2>>9. 
 t Sismondi,Rep. Ital. Jom., x., 160, 167 Th., in., 143. 
 Nap., iv., 160. 
 
 families exiled for their political opinions. But 
 the vehemence of the Revolutionaiy club, which 
 met at the house of an apothecary' of the name 
 of Morandi, soon insisted on far greater conces- 
 sions. Secretly stimulated by Napoleon and the 
 numerous agents of the French army,*+ they 
 openly announced the assistance and protection 
 of the Directory, and insisted for the immediate 
 formation of the Constitution on a new and high- 
 ly Democratic basis ; while the senate, irreso- 
 lute and divided, did not possess either the moral 
 energy or ph3'sical strength to combat the Ibrces 
 with which they were assailed. The arrest of 
 two of the popular party, who had proceeded to 
 acts of sedition, brought matters to a crisis, and 
 the intervention of the French minister. Fay- 
 poult, was sought to procure their liberation, and 
 prevent the efi'usion of blood. Instead of calm- 
 ing, he rather increased the efiervescence ; and 
 the consequence was, that on the fol- 
 lowing day a general insurrection took ^^ ' 
 place. The troops of the line wavered, the 
 burgher-guard could not be trusted, and the sen- 
 ators, reduced to their own resources, were pur- 
 sued and massacred, and at length took refuge 
 with the French minister, as the only means of 
 appeasing the tumult. Upon this, some of the 
 patrician families, finding themselves deserted 
 by their natural leaders, and seeing the dag- 
 ger at their throats, put themselves at the head 
 of their followers, with loud cries demanded 
 arms from the senate, and brought in their faith- 
 ful followers from the countr}', to endeavour to 
 stem the torrent. They soon prevail- The senate 
 ed over their Revolutionary antago- defeat the 
 nists. The posts which had been insurgents, 
 seized in the first bursts of the tumult were re- 
 gained, the club Morandi dispersed, the Genoese 
 colours again floated on the city, and 
 the tricolour flag, which the Democrats ^^ 
 had assumed, was torn doM-n from the walls. 
 The firmness of the aristocracy, supported by 
 the courage of the rural population, had prevail- 
 ed over the fumes of Democracy, and the inde- 
 pendence of Genoa, but for foreign interference, 
 was preserv'ed.j 
 
 But it was foreign to the system of Republican 
 ambition to allow the Revolutionary- 
 party to be subdued in any country jJe^fere 
 which the arms of France could 
 reach. In the course of these stniggles, some 
 Frenchmen and citizens of the Cisalpine Repub- 
 lic, who had taken an active part with the pop- 
 ular side, were wounded and made prisoners ; 
 and Napoleon instantly made this a j^„^ vi"»orous- 
 pretext for throwing the weight of u support the 
 his authority into the scale in favour Democratic 
 of the democracy. The French mln- ''^"y- 
 ister peremptorily demanded their instant lib- 
 eration ; and Napoleon sent his aid-de-camp, 
 Lavalette, to the city to compel the enlargement 
 of the prisoners, the disarming of the counter- 
 revolutionists, and the arrest of all the nobles 
 who had instigated any resistance to the inno- 
 
 * Bot., ii., 285. Jom., i., 167. Corresp. Secret de Nap., 
 iii., 170. 
 
 t '■ Genoa," said Napoleon, in his confidential despatch, 
 to the Directory on the 19th of May, 1797, " loudly demands 
 Democracy ; the senate has sent deputies lo me to sound 
 my intentions. It is more than probable that, in ten days, 
 the aristorrocy of Genoa vull underffo the fate of that of 
 Venice. Then would there be three Democratic republics 
 in the north of Italy, which may hereafter be united into 
 one.'*— Con/id. Despatch, 19th May, 1797— Con^i. Corresp., 
 iii., 170. 
 
 J Jom., X , 170. 174. Th., ix., 143, 144. Nap., iv., 160, 
 164 Bot., ii., 284, 292. 
 
nor.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 475 
 
 June 6. 
 
 vators. To support tlicse demands, the French 
 troops advanced to Tortona, while Admiral 
 Brueys, wiih two sail of the line and two frigates, 
 appeared in the bay. The Democratic party, en- 
 couraged by this powerful protection, now re.su- 
 med the a.^cendency. In vain the .senate endeav- 
 oured, by half measures, to preserve, in part, the 
 Constitution of their country ; they found that the 
 Revolutionists were insatiable, and the minister 
 of France demanded his passports if the whole 
 demands of the Republican general and his adhe- 
 rents in Genoa were not instantly conceded. Ter- 
 rified by the menaces of the populace 
 Senate upon ^ the"threats of their formidable al- 
 this submits. ,. , ^ , i ■ , , , 
 
 lies, the senators at length yielded to 
 
 necessity, and nominated a deputation, who were 
 empowered to submit, without reserve, to the de- 
 mands of the conqueror. They signed, 
 on the Gth of June, a convention at Mon- 
 tebello, which effected a revolution in the gov- 
 ernment, and put an end to the Constitution of 
 Doria. By this deed the supreme legislative 
 authority was vested in two councils : one of 
 three hundred, the other of one hundred and fifty 
 members, chosen by all the citizens ; the execu- 
 tive in a senate of twelve, elected by the coun- 
 cils.* 
 
 This prodigious change immediately excited 
 Violcntpas- the usual passions of Democracy. The 
 sions of the people assembled in menacing crowds, 
 people. burned the Golden Book, and destroy- 
 ed the statue of Andrea Doria, the restorer of 
 the freedom of Genoa, and greatest hero of its 
 history. This outrage to the memory of so il- 
 lustrious a man, while it proved how ignorant 
 the people were of the glory of their country, 
 and how unfit to be intrusted with its govern- 
 ment, greatly displeased Napoleon, who already 
 began to feel that hatred at Democratic princi- 
 
 Sles by which he was ever after so remarkably 
 istinguished.t Subsequently, the nobles and 
 priests, finding that they were excluded from all 
 share in the administration of affairs, according 
 to the mode of election which was adopted for 
 carrying the Constitution into effect, excited a re- 
 volt in the rural districts of the Republic. Many 
 parishes refused to adopt the new Constitution ; 
 Sept. 3. Rural ^^® tocsin was sounded in the val- 
 insurrection, leys, and ten thousand armed peas- 
 •which is sup- ants assaulted and carried the line 
 pressed. ^j^^j fortified heights which form the 
 
 exterior defence of Genoa. General Duphot, 
 however, who commanded the newly organ- 
 ized forces of the infant Republic, having as- 
 sembled three thousand regular troops, attacked 
 g - and defeated the insurgents ; movable 
 ^^ ■ ■ columns penetrated and exacted hostages 
 from the hostile valleys ; and the new Constitu- 
 tion was put in force in the territory of Genoa, 
 ■which thenceforward lost even the shadow of in- 
 dependence, and became a mere outwork of the 
 French Republic. t 
 
 The kingdom of Piedmont, during the course 
 Teplorable hu- of this summer, experienced the bit- 
 miliation of ter humiliations to which it was 
 Piedmont. subjected from the forced alliance 
 in which it was held by the conqueror of Italy. 
 The Directory, from ulterior views as to the 
 Ap'il 5 revolutionizing of these dominions, had 
 refused to ratify the treaty of alliance 
 which Napoleon had formed with its sovereign: 
 
 * Bot., ii., 290, 305. Jom., x.. 175, 180. Nap., iv., 164, 
 166. t Nap., iv., 169. 
 
 J Bott.,ii., 305, 320. Jom., x., 180, 183. Nap., iv., 169, 
 170. 
 
 its fortified places were either demolished or in 
 the hands of the French ; the feelings of the no- 
 bility and the rural population were outraged hy 
 the increasing vehemence of the popular party 
 in the towns; and the king, exhausted by hu- 
 miliation, was already beginning to look to Sar- 
 dinia as the only refuge for the crown, amid the 
 troubles by which it was surrounded.* 
 
 The British government made another attempt 
 this summer to open negotiations for 
 peace with the French Directorv. "'".'^ ■*■ V^' 
 
 I'l Ti T ji.li ■■' gotialions 1)6- 
 
 Larly in July, Lord Malmesbury Tween France 
 was sent to Lisle to renew the at- and England 
 tempts at pacification which had "pe'iedat 
 failed the year before at Paris; and 
 as the abandonment of the Low Countries by 
 Austria at Leoben had removed the principal 
 obstacle to an accommodation, .sanguine hopes 
 were entertained of success. The 
 moderation of the demands made by Moderation of 
 England on this occasion was such "^ ^° ' 
 as to call forth the commendations even of its 
 adversaries. They proposed to surrender all 
 their conquests, reserving only Trinidad from 
 the Spaniards, and the Cape of Good Hope, 
 with Ceylon and its dependancies, from the 
 Dutch. Such proposals, coming from a power 
 which had been uniformly victorious at sea, and 
 had wrested from its enemies almost all their 
 colonial possessions, were an unequivocal proof 
 of moderation, more especially when, by the 
 separate treaty which Austria had made for it- 
 self, they were relieved from the necessity of de- 
 manding any equivalent in their turn for their 
 Continental allies.t The French plenipotenti- 
 aries insisted that the Republic should be recog- 
 nised, and the title of King of France renounced 
 by the English monarch : a vain formality which 
 had been retained by them, since it was first as- 
 sumed by Edward IIL These obstacles would 
 probably have been overcome, and the negotia- 
 tions might have terminated in a general pacifi- 
 cation, had it not been for the revolution of the 
 18th Fructidor (4th of September), to be imme- 
 diately noticed, and the consequent accession of 
 violence and presumption which it brought to 
 the French government. Immediately after that 
 event, the former plenipotentiaries were recalled, 
 and replaced by Treillard and Bonnier, two fu- 
 rious Republicans, who, from the very outset, 
 assumed such a tone, that it was evident any 
 accommodation was out of the question. Their 
 first step was to demand from Lord Malmesbury 
 production of authority from the British govern- 
 ment to him to surrender all the conquests made 
 by Great Britain during the war, without any 
 equivalent, accompanied by an intimation that, 
 if this was not acceded to within 
 twenty-four hours, he must leave Broken off by 
 Lisle. This in.solent demand, which the vehe- 
 proved that the new Republican gov- mence and ar- 
 emment were as ignorant of the r.o'f^nce of 
 forms of diplomacy as of their situ- •''™"''^- 
 ation in the war with England, was received as 
 it deserved: Lord Malmesbury demanded his 
 passports, and returned to this island, "leaving 
 Europe," says Jomini, " convinced that, on this 
 occasion at least, the cabinet of St. James's had 
 evinced more moderation than a Directory whose 
 proceedings were worthy of the days of Robes- 
 pierre.": 
 
 * Nap., iv., 179. 189. Hot., ii., 322, 328. 
 + Ann. Reg.. 1798. p. 67. Jom., x., 191. 
 t Join., X., 24S. 249. Ann. Reg., 1798, 12. Pari, ffist., 
 xxjoii., 1U03, 1012. 
 
476 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXim 
 
 Meanwhile the negotiations for a final treaty 
 Procuress of ^^ Montebello slowly advanced to- 
 the°uesoti- wards their accomplishment. The 
 ations at cabinet of Vienna, aware of the reac- 
 UJma. (JQji which v.-as going for^vard in 
 France, and which was only prevented from 
 overturning the Revolutionary government hy 
 the events of the l8th Fructidor, tooli advantage 
 of eveiy circumstance to protract the confer- 
 ences, in the hopes of a more moderate party 
 obtaining the ascendant in that country, and 
 more reasonable terras of accommodation being 
 in consequence obtained. But when these hopes 
 ■were annihilated by the result of that disastrous 
 revolution, the negotiations proceeded with 
 greater rapidity, and the destruction of neigh- 
 bouring states was commenced without mercy 
 
 to the ultimatum of the Director}', and q t 17 
 the treaty of Campo Formio was signed 
 on the following day at five o'clock.* 
 
 But, though Napoleon assumed this arrogant 
 manner to the Austrian ambassa- simulated ar- 
 dors, he was very far indeed from logance aud 
 himself feeling any confidence in real tears of 
 the result of hostilities, if actually ^'^poleou. 
 resumed: and he had, on the contrary, the day 
 before, written to the Directory, that " the ene- 
 my had on the frontiers of Carinthia 90,000 in- 
 fantry and 10,000 horse, besides 18,000 Hunga- 
 rian volunteers, while he had only 48,000 infan- 
 try and 4000 cavalry ; and that, if they resumed 
 the ofiensive, everything would become doubt- 
 ful." " The war," he adds, " which was nation- 
 al and popular when the enemy was on our 
 
 The French had at first flattered the Venitian frontiers, is now foreign to the French people 
 
 commissioners that they should obtain Ferrara, 
 Romagna, and perhaps Ancona, as a compensa- 
 tion for the territories which were taken from 
 the state ; but ultimately they ceded these prov- 
 inces to the Cisalpine Republic. The Republi- 
 cans of Venice, in despair, endeavoured to effect 
 a junction with that infant state ; but this pro- 
 posal was instantly rejected. It became evident, 
 in the course of the negotiations, that the high 
 contracting parties had forgot their mutual ani- 
 mosities, and were occupied with no other object 
 but that of arranging their diflerences at the ex- 
 pense of their neighbours. Exchanges, or, rather, 
 spoliations of foreign territories, were proposed 
 ■without hesitation and accepted without com- 
 punction : provinces were offered and demanded, 
 to which the contracting parties had no sort of 
 right : the value of cessions alone was consider- 
 ed, not their legality.* 
 
 But, though France and Austria had no sort 
 of difficulty in agreeing upon the spoliation of 
 their neighbours, they found it not so easy a 
 matter to arrange the division of their respective 
 acquisitions in the plain of Lombardy. Man- 
 tua, justly regarded as the bulwark of Itah', was 
 the great sulsject of dispute ; the Republicans 
 contending for it as the frontier of the Cisalpine 
 Republic, the Imperialists as the bulwark of 
 their German pos.sessions. To support their 
 respective pretensions, great preparations were 
 made on both sides. Thirty regiments and 200 
 pieces of cannon reached the Isonzo from Vi- 
 enna, while the French added above fifteen 
 thousand men to their armies in Italy. At 
 Terms are at length Napoleon, irritated by the in- 
 length agreed terminable aspect of the negotia- 
 te, tions, declared that, if the uUima- 
 tum of the Director}^ was not signed in twelve 
 hours, he would denounce the truce to the Arch- 
 duke Charles. The period having expired, he 
 took a va-se of porcelain in his hands, which the 
 Austrian ambassador highly valued as the gift 
 of the Empress Catharine, and said, "The die 
 is then cast, the truce is broken, and war de- 
 clared : but mark my words ! before the end of 
 autumn I will break in pieces your monarchy, 
 as I now destroy this porcelain ;" and, with tha"t, 
 he dashed it in pieces on the ground. Bowing 
 then to the ministers, he retired, mounted his 
 carriage, and despatched, on the spot, a courier 
 to the archduke to announce that the negotiations 
 were broken off, and he would commence hos- 
 tilities in twenty-four hours. The Austrian 
 plenipotentiarv, thunderstruck, forthwith agreed 
 
 it has become a war of governments. In" the 
 end, we should be necessarily overthrown. "t 
 In truth, his resolution to sign the treaty was 
 accelerated from his having observed, when he 
 looked out from his windows on the I3th of Oc- 
 tober, the summits of the Alps covered with 
 snow: a symptom which too plainly told him 
 that the season for active operations that year 
 was drawing to a close, and he had no coufi- 
 dence in the ability of France to resume the con- 
 test on the following spring. He then shut him- 
 self up in his cabinet, and after reviewing his 
 forces, said, " Here are eighty thousand efiective 
 men, but I shall not have above sixty thousand 
 in the field. Even if I gain the victory, I shall 
 have twenty thousand killed and wounded; and 
 how, with "forty thousand, can I withstand the 
 whole forces of the Austrian monarchy, wh» 
 will advance to the relief of Vienna 1 The ar- 
 mies of the Rhine could not arrive to my suc- 
 cour before the middle of November, and before 
 that time arrives, the Alps will be impassable 
 from snow. It is all over ; I will sign the peace I 
 Vcnic£ shall pay t/ie c.rpenscs of ihc war, and the 
 extension of France to the Rhine, let the gov- 
 ernment and the lawyers say what they choose."; 
 But, in addition to these stale reasons, Napo- 
 leon had other secret motives for Napoleon's se- 
 agreeing to the spoliation of Ven- cret reasons 
 ice, and being desirous of coming to for signing 
 an accommodation with the Impe- *^'^ treaty, 
 rialists. Although Carnot and a majority of the 
 Director}- had at first approved of the destruction- 
 of that Republic, and given it a conditional sanc- 
 tion in the June preceding,§ yet, after the revo- 
 lution of the 18th Fructidor, they had cirecto- 
 come to the resolution of not acqui- ^.^ ^ad 'forbid 
 escing in that disgraceful seizure of the spolia- 
 an independent state, and had sent tion. Its in- 
 their ultimatum to Napoleon, enjoin- ^'JJJl.^^pTv^or" 
 ing him not to admit its surrender piapoleon. 
 to the emperor ; and declaring that, 
 rather than have any share in such a perfidious 
 act, they would see their armies driven over the 
 Alps, and all their Italian conquests wrested 
 from the Republic. II At the same time, they 
 had declared their intention, in the event of hos- 
 tilities being resumed, of sending commission- 
 ers to relieve Napoleon of his diplomatic cares, 
 and allow him to attend exclusively to his mili- 
 tary duties.1T Napoleon, whose jealousy of the 
 Rev'olutionary government, established at Paris 
 
 * Dani, Hist, de Venise, v., 428. 
 iy., 248. 
 
 Jem., IT., 248. Nap., 
 
 * Nap., iv., 264. Dam, v., 430, 432. 
 
 t Sec. Des.. 18th Sept. and 16th Oct., 1797, iv., 166, 212. 
 
 t Hour, i., 310. (I Conf. Cor., iv.,22». 
 
 n Conf. dr., iv., 233, 234. 
 
 TT Conf. Cor., iv., 233. Hard., iv., 587. 
 
179-] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUKOPE. 
 
 477 
 
 by the revolution of the 18th Fructidor, had been 
 much increased by the appointment ol' A ugereau 
 in the room of Hoche to the command of the ar- 
 my on the Rhine, was so mucli disgusted by 
 these restrictions on his authority, that he wrote 
 ^ _ to Paris on the 25th of September 
 Sept.-5, 1'9'- offering to resign the command.* 
 The Directory, on the 29th of September, re- 
 turned an answer, positively forbidding the ces- 
 sion of Venice to Austria;! upon which, Napo- 
 leon, seeing his authority slipping from his 
 hands, and a doubtful campaign about to begin, 
 without hesitation violated his instructions, and 
 signed the treaty fatal to Venice on the 18th of 
 October. The Avhole infamy, therefore, of that 
 proceeding rests on his head; the French Direc- 
 tory is entirely blameless, except in not having 
 had the courage to disown the treaty to which 
 his signature was affixed.: 
 
 By this treaty the emperor ceded to France, 
 Terms of the Flanders, and the line of the Rhine ; 
 treaty of Cam- hc agreed to the territory of the Re- 
 po Formio. public being extended to the sum- 
 mit of the Maritime Alps ; he consented to the 
 establishment of the Cisalpine Republic, com- 
 prehending Lombardy, the duchies of Reggio, 
 Modena, Mirandola, Bologna, Ferrara, Romag- 
 na, the Valteline, and the Venitian states as far 
 as the Adige, comprising the territorj- of Bergamo, 
 Brescia, Crema, and the Polesine.§ The Ionian 
 
 * " It is evident," said he, in that letter, " that the gov- 
 ernment is resolved to act to me as they did to Pichegru. I 
 beseech you, citizen, to appoint a successor to me, and ac- 
 cept my resignation. No power on earth shall make me 
 continue to serve a government -which has given me such a 
 scandalous proof of ingratitude, which I was far indeed 
 from expecting."* 
 
 t The resolution of the Directory, after the 18th Fructi- 
 dor, not to spoliate Venice, was repeatedly and strongly ex- 
 pressed. Barras wrote to Napoleon on the 8th of Septem- 
 ber : " Conclude a peace, but let it be an honourable one ; 
 let Mantua fall to the Cisalpine Republic, but Venice not go 
 to the emperor. That is the wish of the Directory, and of 
 all true Republicans, and what the glorj' of the Republic re- 
 <iuires."t Napoleon answered, on the IStli of September, 
 *• If your ultimatum is not to cede Venice to the emperor, I 
 much fear jieace will be impracticable, and yet Venice is the 
 city of Italy most worthy of freedom, and hostilities will be 
 lesuuied in the coui-se of October."t The Directory re- 
 plied, "The government now is desirous of tracing out to 
 you with precision its ultimatum. Austria has long desired 
 to swallow up Italy, and to acquire maritime power. It is 
 the interest of France to prevent both these designs. It is 
 evident that, if the emperor acquires Venice, with its terri- 
 torial possessions, he will secure an entrance into the whole 
 of Lombardy. We should be treating as if we liad been 
 conquered, independent of the disgrace of abandoning Ven- 
 ice, which you describe as worthy of being free. What 
 ^vould posterity say of us if we surrender that great city, 
 ■with its naval arsenals, to the emperor. Better a hundred 
 times restore to him Lombardy, than pay such a price for 
 it. Let us take the worst view of matters ; let us suppose, 
 ■what j-our genius and the valour of your army forbid us to 
 fear, that we are conquered and driven out of Italy. In 
 such a case, yielding only to force, our honour, at least, will 
 be safe ; we shall still have remained faithful to the true 
 interests of France, and not incurred the disgrace of a per- 
 fidy without excuse, as it will induce consequences more dis- 
 astrous than the most unfavourable results of war. We 
 feel the force of your objection, that you may not be able to 
 resist the forces of the emperor ; but consider that your ar- 
 jny would be still less so some months after the peace so 
 imprudently and shamefully signed. Then would Austria, 
 placed by our own hands in the centre of Italy, indeed take 
 •us at a disadvantage. The whole question comes to this ; 
 Shall we give up Italy to the Austnans ? The French gov- 
 ernment neither can or will do so ; it would, in preference, 
 incur all the hazards of war." — See ConM. Corresp. de 
 Napoleon, iv., 233, 235. 
 t Hard., iv., 529, 586, 890. 
 ^ Nap., iV., 265, 266. Dani, v., 432. 
 
 * Confid. ncspatch, 25th Sept., iv., 169. 
 t Barras, Secret Despatch, Sth Sept., 1797. 
 } Se«rel Despatch, 18lli Sept., iv., 161. 
 
 Islands, part of the Venitian territory, were ce- 
 ded to France, which acquired Mantua, on the 
 frontiers of the imperial states in Italy, and 
 Mayence, the bulwark of the Empire on the 
 Rhine. 
 
 On the other hand, the Republic ceded to the 
 emperor, in exchange for the states of Flanders, 
 Istria, Dalmatria, the Venitian isles in the Adri- 
 atic, the mouths of the Cattaro, the city of Ven- 
 ice, and its continental possessions as far as the 
 eastern shore of the Lake of Guarda, the line of 
 the Adige, and that of the Po. By this arrange- 
 ment, Verona, Peschiera, and Porto Legnago 
 fell into the hands of the Austrians, who lost in 
 Flanders and Lombardy provinces, rich indeed, 
 but distant, inhabited by 3,500,000 souls, and re- 
 ceived in the Venitian states a territory of equal 
 riches, with a great seaport, 3,400,000 souls, ly- 
 ing close to the hereditary states,* besides an ac- 
 quisition of nearly the same amount which they 
 had made during the war on the side of Poland. 
 The advantages of the treaty, therefore, how 
 great soever to the conquerors, were in some de- 
 gree also extended to the vanquished. 
 
 Besides these public, the treaty contained many 
 secret articles of nearly equal impor- 
 tance. The most material of these of SftTeaty." 
 regarded the cession of Salzburg, 
 with its romantic territory, to Austria, with the 
 important towns of Inviertil and Wasseburg on 
 the Inn, from Bavaria ; the free navigation of the 
 Rhine and the Meuse, the abandonnent of the 
 Frickthal by Austria to Switzerland, and the 
 providing equivalents to the dispossessed princes 
 on the left bank of the Rhine, on the right of that 
 river. But it was expressly provided that " no 
 acquisition should be proposed to the advantage 
 of Prussia.'^ For the arrangement of these com- 
 plicated objects, a convention was appointed, to 
 meet at Rastadt, to settle the affairs of the Empire. 
 Finally, it was agreed, " that if either of the con- 
 tracting powers should make acquisitions in 
 Germany, the other should receive equivalents 
 to the same amount. "t 
 
 Thus terminated the Italian campaigns of 
 Napoleon — the most memorable of his military 
 career, and which contributed so powerfully to 
 fix his destinies and immortalize his name. The 
 sufferings of Italy in these contests were extreme, 
 and deeply did its people rue the fatal precipi- 
 tance with which they had thrown themselves 
 into the arms of Republican ambition.: Its ter- 
 ritory was partitioned; its independence ruined; 
 its galleries pillaged ; the trophies of art had fol- 
 lowed the car of victory ; and the works of im- 
 mortal genius, which no wealth could purchase, 
 had been torn from their native seats, and vio- 
 lently transplanted into a foreign soil.§ 
 
 * Jom., X., 254, 256. Nap.,iv., 266. Daru. v., 432,4.33. 
 
 t Jom., X., 254, 255. Nap., iv., 266, 267. Hard., iv., 591. 
 
 t The enormous sum of 120,000,000 francs, or about 
 £5,000,000 sterling, was levied on its territory by the con- 
 queror, in specie, m little more than twelve months — a sum 
 equal to £12,000,000 in Great Britain ; and the total amount 
 extracted fronr the peninsula, in contributions and supplies, 
 during the two years the war lasted, was no less than 
 400,000,000 francs, or £16,000,000 sterling. This immense 
 burden fell almost exclusively on the states to the north of 
 the Tiber, whose Republican ardour had been most decided.* 
 
 ^ It is remarkable how strongly, even at this early period, 
 the mind of Napoleon was set upon two objects, which 
 formed such memorable features in his future life, the expe- 
 dition toEstypt, and interminable hostility to Great Butain. 
 
 " Why." said he, in his letter to the Directory of the 13th 
 of September, 1797, " do we not lay hold of Malta 7 Admiral 
 Brueys could easily make himself master of it : 400 knights, 
 
 t Join., Vie de Nap., i., 2jS. Nap., iv., 2S1. Hani., v., 11. 
 
478 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIII. 
 
 No words can paint the horror and consterna- 
 HorrorinVen- ^ion which the promulgation of this 
 ice at the pub- treaty excited in Venice. The Dem- 
 licationofihat ocralic part}', in particular, who 
 treaty. ]y^^i allied themselves with the 
 
 French, compelled tiie government to abdicate, 
 in order to make way for a Republican regime, 
 and received a French garrison within their 
 walls, broke out into the most vehement invec- 
 tives against their former allies, and discovered, 
 with tears of unavailing anguish, that those who 
 join a foreigner to efiect changes in the Constitu- 
 tion of their country hardly ever escape sacrifi- 
 cing its independence. But, whatever may have 
 been the unanimity of feeling which this union 
 of imperial rapacity with Republican treachery 
 awakened among the Venitians, it was too late ; 
 Avith their own hands they had brought the ser- 
 pent into their bosom, and they were doomed to 
 perish from theefiectsof their own revolutionary 
 passions. With speechless sorrow they beheld 
 the French, who occupied Venice, lower the 
 standard of St. Mark, demolish the Bucentaur, 
 pillage the arsenal, remove every vestige of in- 
 dependence, and take down the splendid bronze 
 horses, which for six hundred years had stood 
 over the portico of the Church of St. Mark, to 
 commemorate the capture of Constantinople by 
 J 18 r98 ^^'^ Venitian crusaders. When the 
 *"■ ' ' ■ last doge appeared before the Aus- 
 trian commissioner to take the oath of homage to 
 the einperor, his emotion was such that he fell 
 insensible to the ground ; honouring thus, by the 
 extremity of grief, the last act of national inde- 
 pendence.* Yet even in this catastrophe the 
 fury of party appeared manifest, and a large por- 
 tion of the people celebrated with transports of 
 joy the victory over the Democratic faction, 
 though it was obtained at the expense of the 
 existence of their country. 
 
 The fall of the oldest commonwealth in Eu- 
 Great sensa- ^°P^ excited a general feeling of com- 
 tion excited miseration throughout the civilized 
 by this event world. Many voices were raised, 
 in Europe, even in the legislative body of France, 
 against this flagrant violation of the law of na- 
 
 and, at the utmost, 500 men, compose the whole fran-ison of 
 La Valette. The inhabitants, who amount to 100,000, are 
 already well disposed towards us, for I have confiscated all 
 the possessions of the order in Italy, and they are dying of 
 famine. With Malta and Corfu, we should soon be masters 
 of the Mediterranean. 
 
 " Should we, on making peace with England, he com- 
 pelled to give up the Cape of Good Hope, it will be abso- 
 lutely necessary to take possession of Egypt. That countrj- 
 never belonged to any European power ; the Venitians even 
 there had only a precarious authority. We might embark 
 from hence with 25,000 men, escorted by eight or ten ships 
 of the line or frigates, and take possession of it. E?ypt does 
 not belong to the Grand Signior." — Letter Confld., 13th 
 Sept., 1797 — Corresp. Confid., iv., 175. 
 
 His inveterate hostility to England was equally early ami 
 strongly expressed. In enumerating the reasons which in- 
 duced him to sign the treaty of Campo Formio, he con- 
 cludes ; " Finally, we are still at war with England ; that 
 enemy is great enough, without adding another. The Aus- 
 trians are heavy and avaricious ; no people on earth are less 
 active or dangerous, with a view to our military affairs, than 
 they are ; the English, on the contrary, are generous, intri- 
 guing, enterprising. It is indispensable for our gimernment 
 to destroy the English monarchy, or it will infallibly he 
 overturned by the intrigues and the corruption of these ac- 
 tive islanders. The present moment offers to our hands a 
 noble enterprise. Let us concentrate all onr activity on the 
 marine, and destroy England; that done, Europe is at our 
 feet." — LetterConfid. to the Directory, dated Passeriano, 18th 
 October, 1797 — Confid. Corresp. de Napoleon, iv., 212. 
 
 In reality, it was his desire to acquire the harbour and 
 naval resources of Venice for his projected expedition 
 against Egypt and Great Brltam : that was one main induce- 
 ment with Napoleon to treat with such unexampled severity 
 that unhappy republic, * Daru, v., 442, 443. 
 
 tioDS. Independently of the feelings of jealou.sy, 
 which were naturally awakened by the aggran- 
 dizement of two belligerent powers at the expense 
 of a neutral state, it was impossible to contem- 
 plate, without emotion, the overthrow of that il- 
 lustrious Republic, which had contributed in so 
 powerful a manner to the return of civilization 
 in Europe. No modern state, from so feeble an 
 origin, had risen to such eminence ; nor with 
 such limited resources made so glorious a stand 
 against the tide of barbaric invasion. Without 
 inquiring what right either France or Austria 
 had to partition its territories, men contemplated 
 only its long existence, its illustrious deeds, its 
 constancy in misfortune ; they beheld its anni- 
 hilation with a mingled feeling of terror and pity, 
 and sympathized with the sufierings of a people, 
 who, after fourteen hundred years of independ- 
 ence, were doomed to pass irrevocably under a 
 stranger's yoke.* 
 
 In contemplating this memorable event, it is 
 difficult to say whether most indignation is to be 
 felt at the perfidy of France, the cupidity of Aus- 
 tria, the weakness of the Venitian aristocracy, 
 or the insanity of the Venitian people. 
 
 For the conduct of Napoleon no possible apol- 
 og}' can be found.t He first excited infamous con- 
 the revolutionary spirit to such a duct of Napo- 
 degree in all the Italian possessions leon in this 
 of the Republic, at the very time that transaction. 
 
 * Daru, v., 436, 437. 
 
 t The French entered the Venitian territory with the 
 declaration, "The French army, to follow the wreck of the 
 Austrian army, must pass over the Republic of Venice ; but 
 it will never forget that ancient friendship unites the two 
 Republics. Religion, government, customs, and property 
 will be respected. The general-in-chief engages the gov- 
 ernment to make known these sentiments to the people, in 
 order that confidence may cement that friendship which has 
 so long united the two nations."* On the 10th of March, 
 1797, after the Democratic revolt had broken out in Brescia, 
 Napoleon wrote to the Venitian governor of Verona : " I am 
 truly grieved at the disturbances which have occurred at 
 Verona, but trust that, through the wisdom of your meas- 
 ures, no blood will be shed. The senate of Venice need 
 be under no sort of disquietude, as they must be thoroughly 
 persuaded of the loyalty and good faith of the French gov- 
 ernment, and the desire which we have to live in good friend- 
 ship with your Republic."t On the 24th of March, 1797, 
 he wrote to the Directory, after giving an account of the 
 civil war in the Venitian states, " M. Pisaro, chief sage of 
 the Republic of Venice, has just been here, regarding the 
 events in Brescia and Bergamo, the people of which towns 
 have disanned the Venitian garrisons, and overturned their 
 authorities. I had need of all my prudence ; for jt is not 
 when we require the whole succours of Friuli, and of the 
 good-will of the Venitian government, to supply us with pro- 
 visions in the Alpine defiles, that it is expedient to come to 
 a rupture. I told Pisaro that the Directory would never 
 forget that the Republic of Venire xcas the ancient ally of 
 France, and that our desire was fixed to protect it to the ut- 
 most of our jKiwer. I only besought him to spare the effu- 
 sion of blood. We parted the best of friends. He appear- 
 ed perfectly satisfied with my reception. The great point 
 in all this affair is to gain time."i Ou the 5th of April he 
 wrote again to Pisaro : " The French Republic does not 
 pretend to interfere in the internal dissensions of Venice; 
 but the safety of the army requires that I should not over- 
 look any enterprises hostile to its interests."^ 
 
 Having thus, to the very last moment, kept tip the pre- 
 tended system of friendship for Venice, Napoleon no sooner 
 found himself relieved by the armistice of Leoben, on the 
 8th of April, from the weight of the Austrian war, than he 
 threw oflF the mask. On the day after the ar- ^p^uj, 1797. 
 mistice wa5 signed, he issued a proclamation to ' ' 
 
 the people of the continental possessions of Venice, in which 
 he said, " The government of Venice offers you no security 
 either for persons or property ; and it has, by indifference 
 to your fate, provoked the just indignation of the French 
 govei-nment. If the Venitians rule you by the right of con- 
 quest, I will free you ; if by usurpation, I will restore your 
 rights. "II And, having thus roused the whole population 
 of' the cities of Venitian terra firma to revolt, he next pro- 
 
 * Pari. Deh., 1 
 § lb., iii., 30. 
 
 T., 1338. 
 
 t Cor. Cnof.. i 
 i lb., iii., 37. 
 
 } Ib.,ii.,459. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 479 
 
 they were fed and clothed by the bounty of its 
 government, that disturbances became unavoid- 
 
 ceeded to haiid over all these towns to Austria, by the third 
 clause of the prehminaries of Leoben, which assigned to 
 the Emperor of Austria '" the whole Venitian territory situ- 
 ated between the Mtncio, the Po, and the Austrian slates.''' 
 
 Nor did the duplicity of NapoIf>on rest here. On the 16th 
 of May, he concluded the treaty with the Venitian Repub- 
 }ic, already mentioned, tlie first article of which was, 
 " There shall be henceforth peace and good understanding 
 between France and the Venitian Republic. "t" The object 
 of Napoleon in signing this treaty is unfolded in his secret 
 despatch to tlie Directory three days afterward. " You will 
 receive," says he, " herewith the treaty which I have con- 
 cluded with the Republic of Venice, in virtue of which, 
 General Baraguay d'lIiUiers, with 16,000 men, has taken 
 possession of the city. I have had several objects m view 
 m concluding this treaty. 1. To enter into the town with- 
 out dilDculi Y, and be in a situation to extract from it what- 
 ever we desire, under pretence of executing the secret arti- 
 cles. 2. To be in a situation, if the treaty with the emper- 
 or should not liually be ratified, to apply to our purposes all 
 the resources of the city. 3. To avoid every species of odi- 
 um in violating the preliminaries relative to the Venitian 
 territory, and, at the same time, to gain pretexts which 
 may facilitate their execution. 4. To calm all that may be 
 said in Europe, since it will appear that our occupation of 
 Venice is but a momentary operation, solicited by the Veni- 
 tians themselve.s. The pope is eighty-three, and alarming- 
 ly ill. The moment I heard of that, I pushed forward all the 
 Poles in the army to Bologna, from whence I shall advance 
 them to Ancona."4 His intentions towards Venice were 
 farther summed up in these words, in his despatch to the 
 Directory of the 25th of May : " Venice mast fall to those 
 to whom we give the Italian continent ; but, meanwhile, we 
 will take its vessels, strip its arsenals, destroy its bank, and 
 keep Corfu and Ancona."^ 
 
 Still keeping up the feigned appearance of protection to 
 Venice, Napoleon wrote to the municipality of that town on 
 the 26th of May : " The treaty concluded at Milan may, 
 in the mean time, be signed by the municipality, and the 
 secret articles by three members. In every circumstance I 
 shall do what lies in my power to give you proofs of my de- 
 sire to consolidate your liberties, and to see unhappy Italy 
 nt length assume the place to which it is entitled in the 
 theatre of the world, free and independent of all strangers. "i| 
 Soon after, he wrote to General Baraguay d'llilliers, June 
 23 : " You will, upon the receipt of this, present yourself 
 to the provisional government of Venice, and represent to 
 them that, in conformity to the principles which now unite 
 the Republic of France to that of Venice, and the immediate 
 protection which the Republic of France gives to that of Ven- 
 ice, it is indispensable that the maritime forces of the Re- 
 public be put on a respectable fwting. Under this pretext 
 you will take possession of everything ; taking care, at the 
 same time, to live in good intelligence with the Veiiitians, 
 and to engage in our service all the sailors of the Republic, 
 making use constantly of the Venitian name. In short, you 
 must manage so as to transport all the naval stores and ves- 
 sels in the harbour of Venice to Toulon. By a secret arti- 
 cle of the treaty, the Venitians are bound to furnish to the 
 French Republic three millions worth of stores for the ma- 
 rine of Toulon ; but my intention is to take possession, for 
 the French Republic, of all the Venitian vessels and all the 
 naval stores, for the use of Toulon. "IT 
 
 These orders were too faithfully executed ; and, when ev- 
 ery article of naval and military stores had been swept away 
 from Venice, Napoleon, without hesitation, assigned away 
 his Revolutionary allied Republic, which he had engaged to 
 defend, to the aristocratic power of Austria. The history 
 of the world contains no blacker page of perfidy and dis- 
 simulation. 
 
 It is in vain to allege that the spoliation of Venice was oc- 
 casioned and justified by their attack on the rear of the 
 French army at Verona. The whole continental posses- 
 sions of the Republic were assigned to Austria by Napo- 
 leon at Leoben, four days liefore that event took place, and 
 when nothing had occurred in the Venitian states but the 
 contests between the aristocratic and Democratic factions, 
 which had been stured up by the secret emissaries of Na- 
 poleon himself. 
 
 His conduct throughout this transaction appears to have 
 been governed by one principle, and that was, to secure 
 such pretexts for a rupture with Venice as might afford a 
 decent ground for making its territories the holocaust which 
 would, at any tiinfi, bribe Austria into a peace, and extri- 
 cate the French army from any peril into which it might 
 have fallen. Twice did the glittering prize answer this 
 purpose ; once, when it brought about the armistice of Leo 
 
 able, and then aided the rebels, and made the ef- 
 forts of the government to crush the insurrection 
 the pretext for declaring war against the state. 
 He then excited to the uttermost the Democratic 
 spirit in the capital, took advantage of it to para- 
 l)-ze the defences and overturn the government 
 of the country; established a new constitutioa 
 on a highly popular basis, and signed a treaty on 
 the 16th of May, at Milan, by which, on payment 
 of a heavy ransom; he agreed to maintain the in- 
 dependence of Venice under its new and Revo- 
 lutionary government. Having thus committed 
 all his supporters in the state irrevocably in the 
 cause of freedom, and got possession of the capi- 
 tal, as that of an allied and friendly power ; he 
 plundered it of everything valuable it possessed, 
 and then united with Austria in partitioning the 
 R.epublic,* took possession of one half of its ter- 
 ritories for France and the Cisalpine Republic, 
 and handed over the other half, with the capital 
 and its burning Democrats, to the most aristo- 
 cratic government in Europe. 
 
 These transactions throw as important a light 
 upon the moral as the intellectual character of 
 Napoleon. To find a parallel to the dissimula- 
 tion and rapacity by which his conduct to Ven- 
 ice was characterized, we must search the an- 
 nals of Italian treachery: the hi.story of the na- 
 
 * Cor. Conf.. iii.. 519. 
 
 t Conf. Des , iii 169 19lh May, 1797. 
 
 U lb., iii., 294. 
 
 t lb., iii., 176. 
 
 6 lb., ZSlh May, 1797. 
 
 « U)., iii., 305. 
 
 ben, and saved Napoleon from the ruin which otherwise 
 must have befallen him ; and again, at Canipo Formio, by 
 relieving him from a war to which he himself confesses his 
 forces were unequal. 
 
 When M. VfUetort, the secretary of the French legation 
 at Venice, remonstrated with Napoleon upon the abandon- 
 ment of that Republic, he replied, in words containing, it is 
 to be feared, too faithful a picture of the degradation of mod- 
 ern Italy. " The French Republic is bound by no treaty to 
 sacrifice our interests and advantages to those of Venice. 
 Never has France adopted the maxim of making war for- 
 other nations. I should like to see the principle of philoso- 
 phy or morality which should command us to sacrifice for- 
 ty thousand French, contrary alike to the declared wishes 
 of France and its obvious interests. I know well that it 
 costs nothing to a handful of declaimers, whom I cannot 
 better characterize than by calling them madmen, to rave 
 about the establishment of republics everywhere. I wislv 
 these gentlemen would make a winter campaign. Besides, 
 the Venitian nation no longer exists.* Divided into as many 
 separate interests as it contains cities, effeminated and cor- 
 rupted, not less cowardly than hypocritical, the people of 
 Italy, but especiaUy the Venitians, are totally unfit for free- 
 dom." 
 
 The same idea is expressed in a letter, about the same pe- 
 riod, to Talleyrand. " You little know the people of Italy ; 
 they are not worth the sacrifice of forty thousand French- 
 men. I see by your letters that you are constantly labour- 
 ing under a delusion. You suppose that liberty can do great 
 things to a base, cowardly, and superstitious people. You 
 wish me to perform miracles ; I have not the art of doing 
 so. Since coming into Italy, I have derived little, if any, 
 support from the love of the Italian people for liberty and 
 equality. I have not in my army a single Italian, except- 
 ing fifteen hundred rascals, swept from the streets of its 
 towns, who are good for nothing but pillage. Everything, 
 excepting what you must say in proclamations and public 
 speeches, is here mere romance." — Letter to Talleyrand^ 
 Passeriano, 17th Oct., ndl—Corresp. Confid., iv., 206. 
 
 It only remains to add to this painful narrative of Italian 
 duplicity, that, having no farther occasion for the services 
 of Landrieux, whom he had employed to stir up the revolt 
 in the Italian cities, and having discovered evidence that he 
 had been in correspondence with the Venitian government. 
 Napoleon himself denounced him to the Directory. Au- 
 thentic evidence had been discovered of the double part 
 which he acted in that disgraceful transaction by the 
 French commissioners, who examined the Venitian ar- 
 chives, and Napoleon, in consequence, on the 15th of No- 
 vember, wrote to the Directory, " Landrieux excited the re- 
 volt in Brescia and Bergamo, and was paid for it ; but, at 
 the same time, he privately informed the Venitian govern- 
 ment of what was going on, and was paid by them too. 
 Perhaps you will think it right to make an example of such 
 a rascal, and, at all events, not to employ him again. "'t 
 
 * Pari. Hist., xxxiv., 1338. 
 
 * Letter, 26th Oct., 1797, Conf. Cor., iv., 405. 
 t Utler, lath Nov., 1797, Coaf, Cor., iv., 2S9. 
 
480 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIIL 
 
 tions to the north of the Alps, abounding, as it 
 does, in deeds of atrocity, is stained by no similar 
 act of combined duplicity and violence. This 
 opens a new and hitherto unobserved feature in 
 his character, which is in the highest degree im- 
 portant. The French Republican writers uni- 
 formly represent his Italian campaigns as the 
 most pure and glorious period of his history, and 
 portray his character, at first almost perfect, as 
 gradually deteriorated by the ambition and pas- 
 isions consequent on the attainment of supreme 
 power. This was in some respects true, but in 
 ■others the reverse ; his character never again 
 appears so perfidious as during his earlier years ; 
 and, contrary to the usual case, it was in some 
 particulars improved by the possession of regal 
 power, and to the last moment of his life was 
 progressively throwing off many of the unworthy 
 qualities by which it was at first stained. Ex- 
 traordinary as this may appear, abundant evi- 
 dence of it will be found in the sequel of this 
 Avork. It was the same with Augustus, whose 
 €arly life, disgraced by the proscriptions and hor- 
 rors of the triumvirate, was almost overlooked in 
 the wisdom and beneficence of his imperial rule. 
 Nor is it diflicult to perceive in what principle 
 of our nature the foundation is laid for so singu- 
 lar an inversion of the causes which usually de- 
 base the human mind. It is the terrible effect of 
 revolution, as Madame de Stael has well obser\"ed, 
 10 obliterate altogether the ideas of right and 
 "wrong, and instead of the eternal distinctions of 
 morality and religion, to apply no other test in 
 general estimation to public actions but success.* 
 It was out of this corrupted atmosphere that the 
 inind of Napoleon, like that of Augustus, at first 
 arose, and it was then tainted by the revolution- 
 ar}' profligacy of tlie times ; but with the posses- 
 sion of supreme power he was called to nobler 
 employments, relieved from the necessity of com- 
 mitting iniquity for the sake of advancement, and 
 brought into contact Avith men professing and 
 acting on more elevated principles; and in the 
 discharge of such duties, he cast off many of the 
 stains of his early career. This observation is 
 no impeachment of the character of Napoleon ; 
 on the contrary, it is its best vindication. His 
 virtues and talents were his own; his vices, in 
 part at least, the fatal bequest of the Revolution. 
 The conduct of Austria, if less perfidious, w-as 
 not less a violation of ever}' principle 
 of public right. Venice, though long 
 wavering and irresolute, was at length 
 •committed in open hostilities with the French 
 Republic. She had secretly nourished the im- 
 perial as well as the Republican forces ; she had 
 given no cause of offence to the allied powers ; 
 she had been dragged — late, indeed, and unwil- 
 lingl}', but irrevocably — into a contest with the 
 Republican forces; and if she had committed any 
 fault, it was in favour of the cause in which 
 Austria was engaged. t Generosity, in such 
 circumstances, would have prompted a noble 
 power to throw the weight of its influence in fa- 
 vour of its unfortunate neighbour. Justice for- 
 bade that it should do anything to aggravate its 
 fate; but to share in its spoliation, to seize upon 
 its capital, and extinguish its existence, is an act 
 of rapacity for which no apology' can be offered, 
 and which must forever form a foul stain on the 
 Austrian annals. 
 
 Nor can the aristocracy of Venice be absolved 
 
 And of Aus- 
 tria. 
 
 * Rev. Franc., ii.. 264. 
 
 t Proclamatioa of the senate of Venice, April 12, 1T99. 
 
 from their full share of the blame con- Weakness of 
 sequent on the destruction of their the Vemtian 
 country. It was clearly pointed out aristocracy, 
 to them; and they might have known that the 
 contest in which Europe was engaged with 
 France was one of such a kind as to admit of 
 no neutrality or compromise ; that those who 
 were not with the Democratic party were against 
 them ; that their exclusive and ancient aristocra- 
 cy was, in an especial manner, the object of Re- 
 publican jealousy; and that, if they Were fortu- 
 nate enough to escape destruction at the hands 
 of the French armies, they certainly could not 
 hope to avoid it from their own revolutionary 
 subjects. Often, during the course of the strug- 
 gle, they held the balance of power in their 
 hands, and might have interposed \\ith decisive 
 effect in behalf' of the cause which was ultimate- 
 ly to be their o^wn. Had they put their armies 
 on a war footing, and joined the Au.strians when 
 the scales of war hung even at Castiglione, Ar- 
 eola, or Rivoli, they might have rolled back the 
 tide of revolutionary conquest, and secured to 
 themselves and their country an honoured and 
 independent existence. They did not do so ; 
 they pursued that timid policy which is ever the 
 most perilous in presence of danger ; they shrunk 
 from a contest which honour and duty alike re- 
 quired, and were, in consequence, assailed by 
 the revolutionary tempest when they had no 
 longer the power to resist it, and doomed to de- 
 struction amid the maledictions of their countr}-- 
 men and the contempt of their enemies. 
 
 Last in the catalogue of political delinquency, 
 the popular party are answerable for insanj^y of 
 the indulgence of that insane and un- the Demo- 
 patriotic .spirit of faction, which never cratic par- 
 fails, in the end, to bring ruin upon 'y- 
 those ^ ho indulge it. Following the phantom 
 of Democratic ambition; forgetting all the ties 
 of kindred and country in the pursuit of popular 
 exaltation, they leagued with the stranger against 
 their native land, and paralyzed the state in the 
 moment of its utmost peril, b}^ the fatal passions 
 which they introduced into its bosom. With 
 their own hands they tore down the venerable 
 ensign of St. Mark; with their ovm oars they 
 ferried the invaders across the Laguna?, which, 
 no enemy had passed for fourteen hundred 
 years;* with their own anus they subjugated 
 the senate of their country', and compelled, in the 
 last extremity, a perilous and disgraceful sub- 
 mission to the enemy. They received, in con- 
 sequence, the natural and appropriate reward of 
 such conduct, the contempt of their enemies, the 
 hatred of their friends; the robben,' of their tro- 
 phies, the partition of their territory, the extinc- 
 tion of their libeities, and the annihilation of 
 their country. 
 
 What a contrast to this timid and vacillating 
 conduct in the nilers, and these fla- strikin? con- 
 ffitious passions in the people of trast exhibit- 
 Venice, does the firmness of the cii at the same 
 British government, and the spirit rnb.ifty and 
 of the British people, aflord at this people of Eng- 
 juncture I They, too, were coun- land. 
 
 * The last occa-sion on which the Place of St. Mark had 
 seen the transalpine soldiers was when the French cru- 
 saders knelt to the Venitian peojjle to implore succour from 
 that opulent republic in the last crusade against the infi- 
 dels in the Holy Land. The unanimous shout of approba- 
 tion in the assembled multitude, " It is the will of God ! It 
 is the will of God I" led to that cordial union of these two 
 powers which overturned the throne of Constantinople. 
 '• Maximus," says Bacon, "innovator tempus."— See Gib- 
 bon, chap. Ix. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 481 
 
 selled to temporize in danger, or 3-ield to the 
 tempter; they, too, were shaken in credit, and 
 paralyzed by revolt; they, too, were assailed by 
 Democratic ambition, and urged to conciliate and 
 yield as tlie only means of salvation. The Ve- 
 niiian aristocracy did what the British aristocra- 
 cy was urged to do. They cautiously abstained 
 from hostilities with the revolutionary power ; 
 they did nothing to coerce the spirit of dlsaflec- 
 tion in their own dominions; they yielded, at 
 length, to the demands of the populace, and ad- 
 mitled a sudden and portentous change in the in- 
 ternal structure of the Constitution. Had the 
 British government done the same, they might 
 have expected similar results to those which 
 there took place ; to see the revolutionary spirit 
 acquire irresistible force, the means of national 
 
 resistance prostrated by the divisions of those 
 who should wield them, and the stale become an. 
 easy prey to the ambition of those neighbouring 
 powers Avho had fomented its passions to profit 
 by its weakness. From the glorious result -of 
 the firmness of the one, and the miserable con- 
 sequences of the pusillanimity of the other, a 
 memorable lesson may be learned both by rulers 
 and nations : that courage in danger is olten the 
 most prudent as well as the most honourable 
 course ; that periods of foreign peril are never 
 those in which considerable internal changes can 
 with safety be adopted ; and that, whatever may 
 be the defects of government, they are the worst 
 enemies of their country who league with foreigu 
 nations for their redress. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 INTERNAL, GOVERNMENT OP FRANCE, FROM THE ESTABLISHMENT OP THE DIRECTORY TO THE REVO- 
 LUTION OF 18lh FRUCTIDOR. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Retrospect of the previous Changes of the Revolution. — 
 Maximum of Freedom, with Minimum of Democracy, the 
 great Object of Civil Government. — Provision of Nature 
 against the Evil of Democratic Anarchy. — State of tlie 
 Pulilic Mind and Manners in France in the Beginning of 
 1796. — First Proceedings of the New Legislature. — Choice 
 of the Directory. — Barras, Rewbell, Lareveillere Lepau.\. 
 — Letourneur. — First Measure of the Directoiy. — Extreme 
 Difficulties of their Situation. — Liberation of the Duchess 
 d'Angouleme, who is exchanged for the Deputies deliver- 
 ed up by Duniourier.— ^Successful Efforts of the Directory 
 to restore Order in France ; but Irrelitjion continues tri- 
 umphant. — Theophilanthropists. — Singular Character, 
 Tenets, and Worship of this Sect. — Renewed Efforts of 
 tlie Jacobins. — Babceuf, his extreme Revolutionary Prin- 
 ciples ; but they fail now in rousing the People. — Re- 
 newed Efforts of the Revolutionists. — Plans of the Con- 
 spirators. — The Conspiracy is discovered, and Baboeiif ar- 
 rested. — His Partisans break out at Grenelle, hut are 
 defeated and executed. — Tnal of the Leaders previously 
 arrested. — Abortive Attempt of the Royalists. — Singular 
 Manners at this Peiiod in France ; but the Result of the 
 Elections is preparing a Catastrophe. — The Royalists pre- 
 vail in the New Elections. — Barlhelemy is chosen a Di- 
 rector in lieu of Letourneur, and joins Carnot. — Club of 
 ■Clichy, the great Centre of the Royalists. — Club of Salm, 
 of the Republicans. — General Reaction in favour of Roy- 
 alist Principles.— Measures of the Directory to avert the 
 Danger. — Camille Jourdan's Eftbrts in favour of Religion. 
 — General Return of the Emigrants and Clergy. — Great 
 Alarm of the Directory. — The Republican Majority of the 
 Directory resolve on decisive Measures. — They change all 
 the Ministers, and collect Troops round Pans. — .Measures 
 of Napoleon. — He resolves to support the Democratic 
 Party, and for that Purpose sends Lavallette to Paris in 
 Spring, 1797, and Augereau m July. — His Proclamation 
 to his Soldiers on 14th July. — The Army strongly support 
 the Directory. — Extravagant Addresses to them from the 
 Soldieis.^Strength of the opposite Party consisted only 
 in their Talents and Eloquence. — Their defensive Meas- 
 ures, but they decline to commence Hostilities. — Slender 
 Military Force at their Command. — Reorganization of 
 1he National Guard decreed by the Councils. — Violent 
 Measures of the Director}-. — They surround the Tuileries 
 ■with Troops, and the Guard there join Augereau. — Rev- 
 olution of 18th Fructidor. — Passive Submission of the 
 People. — .\ddress of the Directory to the Councils. — Ty- 
 rannical Measures of the Minority of the Councils. — Ex- 
 tinction of the Liberty of the Press. — Transportation of 
 the most illustrious Citizens of France.— Cruel Fate of 
 the Exiles.— Escape of Pichegru from Guiana.— Vigorous 
 and despotic Measures of the Directory.— This Revolution 
 liad been previously concerted with Napoleon ; but he is 
 disgusted with the severe Use they make of their Victory. 
 — This is the true Commencement of Military Despotism 
 in France. — ReHections on these Events. 
 
 The different eras of the Revolution which 
 have hitherto been traced, show the progress of 
 
 the principles of Democracy through Retrospect of 
 their natural stages of public trans- the previous 
 ports, moneyed insecurity, financial changes of the 
 embarrassment, arbitrary confisca- R<^™''i'ion- 
 cation, general distress, plebeian insurrection, 
 sanguinary oppression, civil warfare, and mili- 
 tary despotism. It remains to examine its prog- 
 ress during the receding tide ; to trace the de- 
 clining and enfeebled elibrts of Republican fury 
 during the period when its desolating effects had 
 become generally known, and the public strength, 
 refused to lend its aid to the ambition and the 
 illusions of individuals. During this period it is 
 evident that the chief desire of the human mind 
 is for repose; the contentions, the miseries of 
 former years I'ise up in fearful remembrance to 
 all classes of citizens ; the chimera of equality 
 can no longer seduce — the illusion of power no 
 longer mislead; and men, bitterly suffering under 
 the co2isequences of former error, eagerly range 
 themselves under any government which prom- 
 ises to save them from " the worst of tyrannies, 
 the tj-ranny of a multitude of tyrants."* 
 
 To effect the maximum of freedom, with the 
 minimum of Democracy, is the great 
 problem of civil government, just ^l^vith 
 as the chiei object oi war is to attain minimum of 
 the greatest possible national secu- Democracy, 
 rity, at the smallest expenditure of ^^^ sreat ob- 
 human life. The Democratic pas- ^Z[u^°^^"" 
 sion is frequently necessary to sus- 
 tain the conflicts of freedom, just as the military 
 spirit is often necessary to purclyise national inde- 
 pendence, and always essential to its security ; but 
 it is not a less evil in itself, if not kept under due 
 restraint, than the savage passion for the destruc- 
 tion of the species. When too vehemently ex- 
 cited, it often becotnes an evil incomparably 
 greater than the political grievances which awa- 
 kened its fury. Great national objects some- 
 times cannot be achieved without the excitation 
 of this passion, because it is desire, and not rea- 
 son, which ever governs the masses of mankind; 
 but when it becomes the ruling power, the last 
 extremities of suffering are at hand. Like all 
 other passions, however, whether in the individ- 
 ual or society, it cannot be indulged to excess 
 
 Aristotle. 
 
482 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIV. 
 
 -without inducing evils which speedily tenuinate 
 its ascendency, and punish tlie delinquencies to 
 which it has given rise. The Democratic pas- 
 sion is to nations what the desire of licentious 
 freedom is to the individual : it bears the same 
 relation to the principle of genuine liberty, as 
 the chastened attachment of marriage, which 
 " peoples heaven," does to the wild excesses of 
 lust, which finds inmates for hell. The fleeting 
 enjoyments of guilt are speedily lost in its lasting 
 pains ; the extravagance of Democratic ambition, 
 if it obtains unresisted sway, invariably termi- 
 nates, before the expiry of a few years, in uni- 
 versal suffering. 
 
 Nature never intended that the great body of 
 Provision of mankind should be immediately con- 
 nat'ilre against cemed in government, because their 
 the evil of intellects and information are un- 
 Democratic equal to, and their situation incon- 
 anarchy. ^j^j^^^j ^j(jj^ ^l^g f^sk. Useful and 
 
 necessary as a check upon the government of 
 others, they bring about the greatest calamities 
 when they become the governors themselves ; 
 respectable, virtuous, and useful when employed 
 in their proper .sphere, they become dangerous 
 and irrational when called to the exercise of du- 
 ties which do not belong to them. As political 
 passions cannot be indulged by a large portion 
 of mankind without destroying both their use- 
 fulness and their felicity, she has wisely provided 
 for their speedy and effectual extinction in the 
 necessary consequence of the eftects which they 
 produce. The insecurity, privations, and suffer- 
 ing which they induce, unavoidably lead to mili- 
 tary despotism. Some Democratic states, as 
 Milan, Florence, and Sienna, to terminate their 
 dissensions, have voluntarily submitted to the 
 yoke of a military leader ; others have fallen 
 under his dominion at the close of a sanguinary 
 period of domestic strife ; all have, in one way 
 or other, expelled the deadly venom from the 
 system; and to shun the horrors of anarchy, 
 shielded themselves under the lasting government 
 of the sword. 
 The illusions of Republicanism were now dis- 
 pelled in France; men had passed 
 publlclind through so many vicissitudes, and 
 and manners hved SO long in a lew yeavs, that all 
 in France in their pristine ideas were overturn- 
 the beginning gj_ -phe rule of the middling class 
 ^ ^'^^' and of the multitude had success- 
 
 ively passed like a rapid and bloody phantasma- 
 goria. The age was far removed from France 
 of the 14th of July, 1789, with its enthusiastic 
 feelings, its high resolves, its ardent aspirations, 
 its popular magistrates, and its buoyant popula- 
 tion; it was stHl farther removed from France 
 of the lOth of August, when a single class had 
 usurped the whole authority of the state, and 
 borne to the seat of government its vulgar man- 
 ners and sanguinary ideas — its distrust of all 
 above, and its severity to all beneath itself So- 
 ciety emerged, weakened and disjointed, from 
 the chaos of revolution; and in despair of effect- 
 ing any real amelioration in the social system, 
 all classes rushed with unbounded vehemence 
 into the enjoyments of private life. The elegan- 
 ces of opulence, long suspended, were resumed 
 with unprecedented alacrity ; balls, festivities, 
 and theatres frequented with more avidity than 
 in the most corrupted era of the monarchy ; it 
 seemed a? if the nation, long famished, was 
 quenchinff its thirst in the enjoyments of exist- 
 ence. Public affairs had an. air of tranquillity 
 which singularly contra.sted with the disasters of 
 
 former years : the emigrants returned in crowds, 
 with a confidence which afterward proved fatal 
 to them. All women were in transports at the 
 auspicious change. Horror at the Jacobins re- 
 stored the sway of the rich ; the recollection of 
 the clubs, the influence of the saloons; female 
 charms resumed their ascendency with the re- 
 turn of pacific ideas, and the passion for en- 
 joyment, freed from the dread of death and 
 the restraints of religion, was indulged without 
 control. Manners never were more corrupted 
 than under the rule of the Directory — luxury 
 never more prodigal — passion never more unre- 
 strained ; society resumed its wonted order, not 
 by repentance for crime, but a change of its di- 
 rection. This is the natural tennination of pop- 
 ular effervescence; the transition is easy fiom 
 the extravagance of Democracy to the corrup- 
 tions of sensualit}', because both proceed from 
 the indulgence of individual passion ; it is ex- 
 tremely difiicult from either to the love of genu- 
 ine freedom, because that implies a sacrifice of 
 both to patriotic feeling. The age of Nero soon, 
 succeeded the strife of Gracchus ; but ages re- 
 volved, and a different race of mankind was es- 
 tablished before that of Fabricius was restored.* 
 
 The deputies were regarded with the utmost 
 solicitude by all parties upon the pj^gt proceed- 
 completion of the elections. The ings of the le- 
 third part who were newly chosen, gislature. 
 according to the provision of the Constitution,, 
 represented with tolerable fidelity the opinions 
 and wishes of the people who had now become 
 influential in France. They consisted not of 
 those extraordinar}' and intrepid men who shine 
 in the outset of the Revolutionary tempest, but 
 of those more moderate characters who, in poli- 
 tics equally as the fine arts, succeed to the ve- 
 hemence of early passion ; who take warning by 
 past error, and are disposed only to turn the ex- 
 isting state of things to the best account for their 
 individual advantage. But their influence was 
 inconsiderable compared with that of the two 
 thirds who remained from the old assembly'', and 
 who, both from their habits of business and ac- 
 quired celebrity, continued to have the principal 
 direction of public affairs.t 
 
 The whole deputies having assembled, ac- 
 cording to the directions of the Con- 
 stitution, chose by ballot 250 of their Dire'aoS. 
 number, all above forty, and mar- 
 ried, to form the Council of the Ancients. They 
 afterward proceeded to the important task of 
 choosing the directors ; and after some hesitation, 
 the choice fell on Barras, Rewbell, Lareveillere 
 Lepaux, Letourneur, and Sieyes ; but upon the 
 last declining the proffered honour, Carnot was 
 chosen in his stead. These five individuals im- 
 mediately proceeded to the exercise of their new 
 sovereignty.! 
 
 Though placed at the head of so great a state, 
 the situation of the directors was at first sur- 
 rounded with diflrculties. When they took pos- 
 session of their apartments in the Luxembourg, 
 they found scarce any furniture in the rooms ;§ 
 a .single table, an inkstand and paper, and four 
 strawchairs, constituted the whole establishment 
 of those who were about to enter on the manage- 
 ment of the greatest republic in existence. The 
 incredible embarrassment of the finances, the 
 critical state of the armies, the increasing dis- 
 
 * Mif?net, ii., 401. Th., viii., 67, 75. D'Abr., il.,86, 94, 
 158, 164. t Th.. 76, 77. Mig., ii., 400. t Th.. viii., 78. 
 
 6 Bailleul. ii., 275, 281. Examen de Mad. de StaSl, sur 
 la R6v. Franc. Mign., i., 404. 
 
1795.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 483 
 
 contents of the people, did not deter them from 
 undertaking the discharge of their perilous du- 
 ties. They resolved unanimously that they 
 would make head against all the difficulties in 
 which the state was involved, or perish in the at- 
 tempt. 
 Barras was the one of the Director)' who was 
 most qualified by his character and 
 ch^^^t r previous services to take the lead in 
 tlie government. Naturally indolent, 
 haughty, and voluptuous ; accessible to corrup- 
 tion, profligate, and extravagant; ill qualified- 
 for the fatigues and the exertion of ordinary busi- 
 ness, he was yet possessed of the firmness, de- 
 cision, and audacity which fitted him to be a 
 leader of importance in perilous emergencies. 
 His lofty stature, commanding air, and insinua- 
 ting manners were calculated to impose upon 
 the vulgar, often ready to be governed in civil 
 dissensions as much by personal qualities as 
 mental superiority : while the eminent services 
 which he had rendered to the Thermidorian par- 
 ty on the fall of Robespierre, and his distin- 
 guished conduct and decisive success on the re- 
 volt of the sections, gave him considerable in- 
 fluence with more rational politicians. 
 Kewbea. Re^beii^ an Alsacian by birth, and a 
 lawyer by profession, was destitute of either 
 firmness or eloquence ; but he owed his eleva- 
 tion to his habits of business, his knowledge of 
 forms, and the pertinacity with which he repre- 
 sented the feelings of the multitude, often in the 
 close of revolutionary convulsions envious of 
 distinguished ability. Lareveillere 
 Lepa^ " Lepaux, a sincere Republican, who 
 had joined the Girondists on the day 
 of their fall, and preserved, under the proscrip- 
 tion of the Jacobins, the same principles which 
 he had embraced during their ascendency, was 
 blessed by nature with a mild and gentle dispo- 
 sition, which fitted him to be the ornament of 
 private society; but he was weak and irresolute 
 in public conduct, totally destitute of the quali- 
 ties requisite in a statesman, strongly tinged 
 with the irreligious fanaticism of the age, and 
 perpetually dreaming of establishing the author- 
 ity of natural religion on the ruins of the Chris- 
 tian faith. Letourneur, an old officer 
 Letourneur. ^f artiUeiy, had latterly supplied the 
 place of Carnot in the Committee of Public 
 Safety, but without possessing his abilities; and 
 when Carnot came in place of Si^yes, he receiv- 
 ed the department of the marine and the colo- 
 nies.* 
 
 The first object of the Directory was to calm 
 First meas- the passions, the fury of which had so 
 lires of the long desolated France. This was no 
 Directory, easy task ; the more especially as, 
 with the exception of Carnot, there was not one 
 of them either a man of genius or of any con- 
 siderable reputation ; the cruel efiect of a revo- 
 lution, which in a few years had cut off whole 
 generations of ability, and swept away all, save 
 in the military career, that could either command' 
 respect or ensure success. Their principles were 
 Republican, and they had all voted for the death 
 of the king in the convention, and consequently 
 their elevation gave great joy to the Democratic 
 party, who had conceived great disquietude from 
 the recent formidable insurrection and still me- 
 nacing language of the Royalists. The leaders 
 of that party, defeated, but not humbled, had 
 
 great influence in the metropolis, and their fol- 
 lowers seemed rather proud of the perils they had 
 incurred, than subdued by the defeat they had 
 sustained.* 
 
 Within and without they were suiTounded by 
 diftlculties. The Revolution had left Extreme diffi- 
 everything iathe most miserable sit- culties of their 
 nation. The treasury was empty ; situation, 
 the people starving; the armies destitute; the 
 generals discouraged. The progress of the pub- 
 lic disorders had induced that extreme abu.se of 
 paper money, which seems the engine employed 
 by nature, in revolutionary disorders, to bring 
 salutary suffering home to every individual, evea 
 of the humblest rank in society. The revenue 
 had almost ceased to be collected, and the public 
 necessities were provided for merely by a daily 
 issue of paper, which every morning was sent 
 forth from the public treasury, still dripping wet 
 from the manufactory of the preceding night. 
 The sale of all kinds of commodities had ceased, 
 from the effect of the law of the maximum and 
 forced contributions ; and the subsistence of Par- 
 is and the other great towns was obtained mere- 
 ly by compulsory requisitions, for which the 
 unfortunate peasants received only paper, worth 
 not a thousandth part of the value at which they 
 were compelled to accept it. Finally, the armies, 
 destitute of everything, and unfortunate at the 
 close of the campaign, were discontented and de- 
 jected.t 
 
 The brilliant successes by which Napoleon re- 
 stored the military affairs of the Republic have 
 been already considered.} But in the course of 
 their labours, they M'ere successively assailed by 
 the different factions whose strife had brought 
 the country to this miserable condition, and they 
 owed their victory over both only to the public 
 torpor which recent experience of the suffering 
 they had endured had produced.§ 
 
 One of their first acts was a deed of humani- 
 ty — the liberation of the daughter of Liberation of 
 Louis XVI. from the melancholy the Duchesse 
 prison where she had been confined d'Augouieme. 
 since her parents' death. This illustrious prin- 
 cess, interesting alike for her unparalleled mis- 
 fortunes and the resignation with which she bore 
 them, after having discharged, as long as the 
 barbarity of her persecutors would permit, every 
 filial and sisterly duty; after having seen her 
 father, her mother, her aunt, and her brother 
 successively torn from her arms to be consigned 
 to destruction, had been detained in solitary con- 
 finement since the days of Robespierre, and was 
 still ignorant of the fate of those she had so ten- 
 derly loved. The Directory, yield- .^yiiois ex- 
 ing at length to the feelings of hu- changed for the 
 manity, agreed to exchange her for depuUes deiiv- 
 the deputies who had been deliver- ered up by Du- 
 ed up by Dumourier to the Impe- ^^"^i*^; ^"=- 
 rialists; and on the 19th of De- 
 cember, 1795, this remnant of the royal captives 
 left the prison where she had been detained since 
 the 10th of August, 1792, and proceeded by rapid 
 journeys to Bale, where she was exchanged for 
 the Republican commissioners, and received by 
 the Austrians with the honour due to her rank. 
 Her subsequent restoration and second banish- 
 ment will form an interesting episode in the 
 concluding part of this work.ll 
 The first measure of the Directory for the re- 
 
 * Mign., ii., 404, 405, 417. Nap. in Las Cas., iv., 143, 
 145. Lac, xiii., 4, 5. Th., viii., 78, 79. 
 
 * Th., viii., 84,85. 
 
 t Th., viii., 85. Mign., ii., 402, 403. 
 
 t 20ih and 22d chapters. >> Mign., ii., 410. 
 
 II Th., viii., 126. Lac, xii., 388. 
 
484 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIV. 
 
 Cessation of I'ef of the finances was to obtain a 
 thed.stribu- decree authorizing the ces.sation of 
 tionof food, the distribution of rations to the peo- 
 ple, which were thenceforward to be continued 
 only to the most necessitous classes. This 
 great measure, the first symptom of emancipa- 
 tion from the tyranny of the mob of the metropo- 
 lis, was boldly adopted ; and though the discon- 
 tents to which it gave rise appeared in the con- 
 spiracy of Baboeuf, it was successfully carried 
 into effect.* 
 
 After various ineffectual attempts to return to 
 . . a metallic circulation, the government 
 ™t"J!^"f^ found itself obliged to continue the is- 
 sue of assignats. 1 he quantity in cir- 
 culation at length rose in January, 1796, to for- 
 ty-five milliards, or about X-3,000,000,000 ster- 
 ling ; and the depreciation became so excessive, 
 that a milliard, or a thousand million of francs, 
 produced only a million in metallic currency : in 
 other words, the paper money had fallen to a 
 thousandth part of its nominal value. To stop 
 this enormous evil, the government adopted the 
 plan of issuing a new kind of paper money, to be 
 called territorial mandates, which were intended 
 to retire the assignats at the rate of thirty for one. 
 This was, in truth, creating a new kind of assig- 
 nats, with an inferior denomination, and was 
 meant to conceal from the public the enormous 
 depreciation which the first had undergone. It 
 "was immediately acted upon ; mandates were 
 declared the currency of the Republic, and be- 
 came by law a legal tender; the national do- 
 mains were forthwith exposed to sale, and as- 
 signed over to the holder of a mandate without 
 any other formality than a simple proces verbal. 
 At the same time, the most violent measures 
 •were adopted to give this new paper a forced 
 circulation ; all payments by and to the govern- 
 ment were ordered to be made in it alone ; severe 
 penalties were enacted against selling the man- 
 dates for less than its nominal value in gold or 
 silver; and, to prevent all speculation on their 
 value, the public exchange was closed.t 
 
 The only advantage possessed by the man- 
 Their tran- dates over the old assignats was, that 
 sient sue- they entitled the holder to a more sum- 
 «ess- mary and effectual process for getting 
 
 his paper exchanged for land. As soon as this 
 became generally understood, it procured for 
 them an ephemeral degree of public favour; a 
 mandate for 100 francs rose, soon after it was 
 issued, from fifteen to eighty francs, and their 
 success procured for government a momentary 
 resource : but this relief was of short duration. 
 Two milliards four hundred millions of man- 
 dates were issued, secured over an extent of land 
 supposed to be of the same value ; but before 
 many months had elapsed they began to decline, 
 and were soon nearly at as great a discount in 
 proportion to their value as the old assignats. 
 By no possible measure of finance could paper 
 money, worth nothing in foreign states from a 
 distrust of its security, and redundant at home 
 from its excessive issue, be maintained at any- 
 thing like an equality with gold and silver. The 
 mandates were, in truth, a reduction of assignats 
 to a thirtieth part of their value ; but to be on a 
 par with the precious metals, they should have 
 been issued at one two hundred and fiftieth part, 
 being the rate of discount to which the original 
 paper had now fallen.t 
 
 ^ MiZ.,'n.,iD6. Th., viii., 162. 
 
 t T4:, viij., 185, ISS, 189. Mig., ii., 407. 
 
 i Th., viii., 33, 191, 335. Mig., ii., 407. Lac, xiii., 40. 
 
 Government, therefore, and all the persons 
 who received payment from it, inclu- 
 ding the public creditors, the army, and ,„ate"faU 
 the civil servants, were still suffering 
 the most severe privation ; but the crisis had 
 passed with the great bulk of individuals in the 
 state. The fall in the value of the assignats had 
 been so excessive, that no one would take either 
 them or their successors in change. Barter, and 
 the actual interchange of one commodity with 
 another, had usurped the place of sale; and all 
 those possessed of any fortune, realized it in the 
 form of the luxuries of life, which were likely to 
 procure a ready sale in the market. The most 
 opulent houses were converted into vast maga- 
 zines for the storing of silks, velvets, and luxuries 
 of every description, which were retailed some- 
 times at a profit and sometimes at a loss, and 
 by which the higher classes were enabled to 
 maintain their families. From the Recourse in 
 general prevalence of this rude in- despair had to 
 terchange, internal trade and manu- ''arter. 
 factures regained, to a certain degree, their for- 
 mer activity ; and though the former opulent 
 quarters were deserted, the Boulevards and 
 Chaussee d'Antin began to exhibit that splen- 
 dour for which they afterward became so cele- 
 brated under the Empire. As the victories of 
 the Republic increased, and gold and silver were 
 obtained from the conquest of Flanders, Italy, 
 and the German States, the government paper 
 entirely ceased to be a medium of exchange ; 
 transfers of every description were effected by 
 barter or exchange for the precious metals, and 
 the territorial mandates were nowhere to be seen 
 but in the hands of speculators, Avho bought them 
 for a twentieth part of their nominal value, and 
 sold them at a small advance to the purchasers 
 of the national domains.* 
 
 But while all other classes were thus emerging 
 from this terrible financial crisis, „. ,• , 
 
 , , „ . J 1 ' »tar\'ation ot 
 
 the servants of government and the the fundhold- 
 
 Sublic creditors, still paid in man- ersaudallthe 
 ates at par, were literally dving of public func- 
 famine. Employment from govern- '•°"='"''s. 
 ment, instead of being solicited, was universall)' 
 shunned ; the persons in every kind of service 
 sent in their resignations ; and the soldiers de- 
 serted from the armies in as great crowds as 
 they had flocked to it during the Reign of Terror. 
 While the armies of Pichegru and Napoleon, 
 paid in the coin they extracted from the conquer- 
 ed states, were living in luxurious aflluence, 
 those on the soil of the Republic, and paid in its 
 depreciated paper were starving. But most of 
 all, the public creditors, the re?itiers, were over- 
 whelmed by unprecedented distress. The opu- 
 lent capitalists who had fanned the first triumphs 
 of the Revolution, the annuitants who had swell- 
 ed the multitude of its votaries, were now equal- 
 ly crushed under its wheels. Then was seen 
 the unutterable bitterness of private distress, 
 which inevitably follows such a convulsion. 
 The prospect of famine produced many more 
 suiciaes among that unhappy class than all the 
 horrors of the Reign of Terror. Many, driven 
 to extremities, had recourse, late in life, to daily 
 labour for their subsistence ; others, unable to 
 endure its fatigues, subsisted upon the charity 
 which they obtained from the more fortunate 
 survivers of the Revolution. Under the shadow 
 of night, they were to be seen crowding round the 
 doors of the Opera, and other places of public 
 
 * Th., Till., 337. Lac, xiii., 33, 36. 
 
179C.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 465 
 
 amusement, of which they had formerly been the 
 ])rincipal supporters, and in a disguised voice 
 or witli an averted liead imploring charity from 
 crowds, among whom they were fearful of dis- 
 covering a former acquaintance or dependant.* 
 The situation of the armies in the interior was 
 
 „ , ,, not less deplorable. Oliicers and 
 Deplorable , , . ,.K , , 
 
 state of the ar- soldiers, alike unable to procure 
 mies from the anything for their pay, were main- 
 same cause, tained only by the forced requisi- 
 tions which, under the law of necessity, were 
 still continued in the departments. The detach- 
 ments were dispersed, and deserted on the road ; 
 even the hospitals were shut up, and the unhap- 
 py soldiers who tilled them turned adrift upon 
 the world, from utter inability to procure them 
 either medicines or provisions. The gendarm- 
 erie, or mounted police, were dissolved : the sol- 
 diers who composed it, unable to maintain their 
 horses, sold them, and left the service ; and the 
 high roads, infested by numerous brigands, the 
 natural result of the dissolution of society, be- 
 came the theatre of unheard-of atrocities.t 
 
 Strangers profited by the general distress of 
 Greats cula- ^^^ance to carry on a commerce 
 tions oTfor- "^ with its suffering inhabitants, which 
 eigners from contributed, in a considerable de- 
 the public dis- gree, to restore the precious metals 
 *''®^^' to circulation. The Germans, the 
 
 Swiss, the Russians, and the English, seized the 
 moment when the assignats were lowest to fall 
 with all the power of metallic riches upon the 
 scattered but splendid movables of France. 
 Wines of the most costly description were bought 
 up by speculators, and sold cheaper at Hamburg 
 than Paris; diamonds and precious stones, con- 
 cealed during the Reign of Terror, left their 
 place of concealment, and procured for their 
 ruined possessors a transitory relief; and pic- 
 tures, statues, and furniture of every description 
 were eagerly purchased for the Russian and Eng- 
 lish palaces, and by their general dispersion ef- 
 fected a change in the taste for the fine arts over 
 all Europe. A band of speculators, called la 
 Bande Noire, purchased up an immense number 
 of public and private edifices, which were sold 
 for almost nothing, and reimbursed themselves 
 by selling a part of the materials ; and numerous 
 families, whose estates had escaped confiscation, 
 retired to the country, and inhabited the build- 
 ings formerly tenanted by their servants, where 
 they lived in seclusion and rustic plenty on the 
 produce of a portion of their estates.; 
 
 The excessive fall of the paper at length made 
 16th July 179C ^^^ classes perceive that it was in 
 Open abaadon- vaiu to pursuc the chimera of up- 
 ment of the pa- holding its value. On the 16th of 
 per system. July, 179G, the measure, amounting 
 to an open confession of a bankruptcy which 
 had long existed, was adopted. It was declared 
 that all persons were to be at liberty to transact 
 business in the monej'- which they chose ; that 
 the mandates should be taken at their current 
 value, which should be published every day at 
 the treasury; and that the taxes should be re- 
 ceived either in coin or mandates at that rate, 
 ■with the exception of the department bordering 
 on the seat of war, in which it should still be re- 
 ceived in kind. 
 
 The publication of the fall of the mandates 
 rendered it indispensable to make some change 
 as to the purchase of the national domains ; for 
 
 * Th.,viii.,337, 338. Mig., li., 402. Lac., Tiii.,40. 
 t Th., Till., 338. % Lac., xiii., 37. 
 
 where the mandate had fallen from one hundred 
 francs to five francs, it was impossible that the 
 holder could be allowed to obtain in exchange for 
 it land worth one hundred francs in 1790, and 
 still, notwithstanding the fall of its value, from 
 the insecure tenure of all possessions, deemed 
 worth thirty-five francs.* It was in consequence 
 determined, on the 18th of July, that 
 the rmdisposed-of national domains ^'^ ^^' ^^^' 
 should be sold for mandates at their current 
 value. 
 
 Such was the end of the system of paper credit, 
 six years after it had been originally prodig.ous 
 commenced, and after it had effected tr.nnsference 
 a greater change in the fortunes of in- of fortunes 
 dividuals than had, perhaps, ever been which it had 
 accomplished in the same time by any «'='=^'"°«='i- . 
 measure of government. It did more to over- 
 throw the existing wealth, to transfer movable 
 fortunes from one hand to another, than even the 
 confiscation of the emigrant and Church estates. 
 All debts were in fact annihilated by the elusory 
 form in which it permitted payment to be made. 
 In its later stages, a debtor with one franc could 
 force a discharge of a debt of two hundred ; the 
 public creditors, the government servants, in fact, 
 all the classes who Ibrmerly were opulent, were 
 reduced to the last stage of misery. On the other 
 hand, the debtors throughout the whole country 
 found themselves liberated from their engage- 
 ments; the national domains were purchased al- 
 most for nothing by the holders of government 
 paper; and the land, infinitely subdivided, re- 
 quired little of the expenditure of capital, t and 
 became daily more productive from the number 
 and energy of its new cultivators. 
 
 Deprived of the extraordinary resource of is- 
 suing paper, the Directory were com- p„biic bank- 
 pelled to calculate their real revenue, mptcy final- 
 and endeavour to accommodate their h' declared. ; 
 expenditure to that standard. They estimated the 
 revenue for 1796 at 1,100,000,000 or .£50,000,000, 
 including an arrear of 300,000,000 or jei3,000,000, 
 of the forced loans, which had never yet been re- 
 covered. But the event soon proved that this 
 calculation was fallacious ; the revenue proved 
 greatly less, and the expenditure much greater, 
 than had been expected. The land-tax had pro- 
 duced only 200 millions instead of 250; and the 
 200 millions expected from the sale of the re- 
 mainder of the national domains had not beea 
 half realized, and all the other sources of revenue 
 had failed in the same proportion. Meanwhile, 
 the armies of the Rhine, of the Sambre and 
 Meuse, and of the Interior, were in the most ex- 
 treme state of penury, and all the national estab- 
 lishments on the point of ruin. In these circum- 
 stances, it was no longer possible to avoid a 
 bankruptcy.; 
 
 The public creditors, as usual in all such ex- 
 tremities, were the first to be sacrificed. After 
 exhausting every expedient of delay and pro- 
 cra.stination with the rentiers, the Directory at 
 lerfgth paid them only a fourth in money and 
 three fourths in bills, dischargeable on the na- 
 tional domains, called Bons dcs Tivis Quarts. 
 The annual charge of the debt was 248 millions 
 of francs, or about ;£! 1,000,000 sterling; so that, 
 by this expedient, the burden was reduced to 62 
 millions, or X2,400,000. The bills received for 
 the three fourths were from the first at a niinous 
 discount, and soon became altogether unsaleable; 
 
 * Mig., viii., 3.S9. Th., viii., 34fi, 347. 
 t Th., Tiii., 343. Lac, xiii., 38. 
 t Th., viii., 343, 344 ; ix., 177. 
 
486 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIY, 
 
 and the disorders and partiality consequent on 
 this mode of payment speedily became so excess- 
 ive that it could no longer be continued. The 
 income of 1797 was estimated at 616,000,000 
 
 . ., ,, . , francs, or about X27,000,000, but the 
 And two thirds ' . , i ' , ' i , 
 
 of the national expenditure could not be reduced to 
 debt coniisca- this without taking a decisive step 
 1797 ^"^' ^^' ^" re&a^id to the debt. It was, there- 
 fore, finally resolved to continue the 
 payment of a third only of the debt in specie ; and 
 the remaining two thirds were to be discharged 
 by the payment of a capital in bills, secured on 
 the national domains, at the rate of twenty years' 
 purchase. These bills, like the Bo?is des Trois 
 Quarts, immediately fell to a sixth of their value, 
 and shortly after dwindled away to almost no- 
 thing, from the quantity simultaneously thrown 
 into the market. As the great majority of the 
 public creditors were in such circumstances that 
 they could not take land, this was, to all intents, 
 a national bankruptcy, which cut off, at one blow, 
 two thirds of their property.* 
 
 These attempts of the Director}', though long 
 Successful cf- unsuccessful, to restore order to the 
 forts of the Di- distracted chaos of revolutionary 
 Tectnry to re- France, were seconded by the efforts 
 store order lu of the great majority of the people, 
 ranee. ^^ whom a termination of political 
 
 contests had become the most imperious of ne- 
 ce.ssities. Such, in truth, is the disposition to 
 right themselves in human affairs when the fever 
 of passion has subsided, that men fall insensibly 
 into order, under any government which saves 
 them from the desolating effect of their own pas- 
 sions. Within a few months after the establish- 
 ment of the new government, the most frightful 
 evils entailed on France by the revolutionary 
 regime had been removed or alleviated. The 
 odious law of the maximum, which compelled 
 the industry of the country to pay tribute to the 
 idleness of towns, was abolished; the commerce 
 of grain in the interior was free : the assignats 
 were replaced, without any convulsion, by a me- 
 tallic currency : the press had resumed its inde- 
 pendence ; the elections had taken place without 
 violence; the guillotine no longer shed the no- 
 blest blood in France ; the roads were secure ; 
 the ancieni proprietors lived in peace beside the 
 purchasers of the national domains. What- 
 ever faults they may have afterward committed, 
 France owes to the Directory, during the first 
 year, the immense obligation of having recon- 
 structed the elements of society out of the fusion 
 of the revolutionary crucible. t 
 
 In one particular alone, the Director)' made 
 But irreligion 1^0 approach towards improvement, 
 continues stiU Religion still remained prostrated as 
 triumpliant. jj had been by the strokes of the de- 
 cemvirs ; the churches were closed ; Sunday 
 abolished; baptism and communion unknown; 
 the priests in exile, or in hiding under the roofs of 
 the faithful remnant of the Christian flock. The 
 youth of both sexes were brought up without the 
 slightest knowledge of the faith of their fathers ; 
 a generation was ushered into the world, destitute 
 of the first elements of religious instruction. Sub- 
 sequently, the immense importance of this defi- 
 ciency appeared in the clearest manner; it has 
 left a chasm in the social institutions of France 
 "which all the genius of Napoleon, and all the 
 glories of the Empire, have not been able to re- 
 pair; and which, it is to be feared, is destined to 
 
 prevent the growth of anything like rational or 
 steady freedom in that distracted country. la 
 vain Lareveillere endeavoured to 
 establish a system of Th'ufhilanlkro- tl.roTs'ts^'"'' 
 ;/;/, and opened temples, published ^'* ^' 
 chants, and promulgated a species of lilurg}' : all 
 these endeavours to supersede the doctrines of 
 revelation speedily failed;* and Deism alone re- 
 mained in the few of the revolutionary party who 
 bestowed any thought on religious concern.t 
 
 The shock of parties, however, had been too 
 violent, the wounds inflicted too profound, for 
 society to relapse, without farther convulsions, 
 
 * Th., ix., 177, 319, 326. Bris., Hist. Fin., ii., 321, 327. 
 Lac, xiv., 105. t De Sta€l, ii., 162. Mign., ii., 406. 
 
 * Mign., ii., 406. Lac, xiii., 2. Lavalette, i., 323, 324. 
 t The tenets and ideas of this singular sect were one of 
 the most curious results of the Revolution. Their princi- 
 ples were, for the most part, contained in the following 
 paraojraph : 
 
 " We believe in the existence of God, and the immor- 
 tality of the soul. Worship the Deity ; cherish singular ch»r- 
 your equals ; render yourself useful to your »cier, icneti, 
 country. Everything is good which tends to ""i worship 
 preserve and bring to perfection the human "' ""' •*"• 
 race ; everything which has an opposite tendency is the re- 
 verse. Children, honour your fathers and mothers ; obey 
 them with affection ; support their declining years. Fathers 
 and mothers, instruct your children. Women, behold in 
 your husbands the heads of j-our houses ; husbands, behold 
 in women the mothers of your cliildren, and reciprocally 
 study each other's happiness." 
 
 When men flatter themselves that they are laying the 
 foundations of a new religion, they are, in truth, only 
 dressing up, in a somewhat varied form, the morahty of the 
 Gospel. 
 
 The worship of this sect was very singular. Lareveillere 
 Lepaux was their high-priest ; they had four temples in Par- 
 is, and on appointed days service was performed. In the 
 middle of the congregation, an immense basket, filled with 
 the most beautiful flowers of the season, was placed, as the 
 symbol of the creation. The high-priest pronounced a dis- 
 course enforcing the moral virtues : " in which," says the 
 Duchess of Abrantes, " there was frequently so much truth 
 and feeling, that if the Evangelists had not said the same 
 thing much better 1800 years before them, one might have 
 been tempted to embrace their opinions."* This sect, like 
 all others founded upon mere Deism and the inculcation of 
 the moral virtues, was short-lived, and never embraced any 
 considerable body of the people. 
 
 Napoleon viewed these enthusiasts, some of whom were 
 still to be found in Paris when he seized the helm of af- 
 fairs m 1799, in their true light. " They are good actors," 
 said he. " What I" answered one of the most enthusiastic 
 of their number, " is it in such terms that you stigmatize 
 those whose chiefs are among the most virtuous men in Par- 
 is, and whose tenets inculcate only universal benevolence 
 and the moral virtues V " What do you mean by that 7" 
 replied the First Consul ; " all systems of morality are fine. 
 Apart from certain dogmas, more or less absurd, which 
 were necessary to suit the capacity of the people to whom 
 they were addressed, what do you see in the Widham, 
 the Koran, the Old Testament, or Confucius ? Everywhere 
 pure morahty ; that is to say, a system inculcating protec- 
 tion to the weak, respect to the laws, gratitude to God. 
 The Gospel alone has exhibited a complete assemblage of 
 the principles of morality divested of absurdity. That is 
 what is truly admirable, and not a few commonplace sen- 
 tences put into bad verse. Do you wish to see what is truly 
 sublime .' Repeat the Lord's Prayer. You and your friends 
 would willingly become martyrs ; I shall do them no such 
 honour. No strokes but those of ridicule shall fall upon 
 them ; and if I know anything of the French, Ihcy will 
 speedily prove effectual." Napoleon's views soon proved 
 correct. The sect lingered on five years ; and two of its 
 members had even the courage to publish short works in its 
 defence, which speedily died a natural death. Their num- 
 ber gradually declined : and they were at length so incon- 
 siderable, that when a decree of government, on the 4th of 
 October, 1801, prohibited them from meeting in the four 
 churches which they had hitherto occupied as their tem- 
 ples, they were unable to raise money enough to hire a 
 room to carry on their worship. The extinction of this sect 
 was not owing merely to the irreligious spirit of the French 
 metropolis ; it would have undergone (he same fate in any 
 other age or country. It is not by flowers and verses, dec- 
 lamations on the beauty of spring and the goodness of the 
 Deity, that a permanent impression is to be made on abein^ 
 exposed to the temptations, liable to the misfortunes, and 
 filled with the desires incident to the human race.— See 
 DucHESsE D'Aerantes, vi., 38, 41. 
 
 i D'Ab., vi., 37, 38. 
 
1796.] 
 
 HISTORV OF EUROPE. 
 
 487 
 
 into a state of repose. It was iiom the Jacobins 
 that the first efforts proceeded ; and the principles 
 of their leaders at this juncture are singularly 
 instructive as to the extremities to which the 
 doctrines of Democracy are necessarily pushed, 
 when they take i deep hold of the body of the 
 people. 
 
 Tliis terrible faction had never ceased to 
 Renewed el- mourn in secret the ninth Thermidor 
 forts of the as the commencement of their bond- 
 Jacobius. age. They still hoped to establish 
 absolute equality, notwithstanding the variety of 
 human character ; and complete Democracy, in 
 .spite of the institutions of modern civilization. 
 They had been driven from the government by 
 the fall of Robespierre, and from all influence in 
 the metropolis by the defeat and disarming of 
 the faubourgs. But the necessities of govern- 
 ment on occasion of the revolt of the sections on 
 the thirteenth Vendemiaire had compelled it to 
 invoke the aid of their desperate bands to resist 
 the efforts of the Royalists, and the character of 
 the directors inspired them with hopes of regain- 
 ing their influence at the helm of affairs. Flat- 
 tered by these prospects, the broken faction re- 
 assembled. They instituted a new club under 
 the splendid dome of the Pantheon, which they 
 trusted would rival the far-famed assemblage of 
 the Jacobins ; and there instituted a species of 
 idolatrous worship of Marat and Robespierre, 
 whom they still upheld as objects of imitation to 
 their followers.* 
 
 The head of this party was Baboeuf, surna- 
 Baboeuf His ^^^^ Gracchus, who aspired to be- 
 extreme rev- come the chief of the fanatical band, 
 olutionary His leading principle was, that the 
 principles. friends of I'reedom had hitherto fail- 
 ed because they had not ventured to make that 
 use of their power which could alone ensure its 
 lasting success. " Robespierre fell," .said he, 
 "because he did not venture to pronounce the 
 word ' Agrarian Law.' He eflected the spoliation 
 of a few rich, but without benefiting the poor. 
 The sans-culoltcs, guided by too timid leaders, 
 piqued themselves on their foolish determination 
 to abstain from enriching themselves at others' 
 expense. Real aristocracy consists in the pos- 
 session of riches, and it matters not whether they 
 are in the hands of a Villiers, a Laborde, a Dan- 
 ton, a Barras, or a Rewbell. Under different 
 names, it is ever the same aristocracy which 
 oppresses the poor, and keeps them perpetually 
 in the condition of the Spartan Helots. The peo- 
 ple are excluded from the chief share in the prop- 
 erty of France ; nevertheless, the people, who 
 constitute the whole strength of the state, should 
 be alone invested with it, and that, too, in equal 
 shares. There is no real equality without an 
 equality of riches. All the great of former times 
 should, in their turn, be reduced to the condition 
 of Helots ; without that, the Revolution is stop- 
 ped where it should begin. These are the prin- 
 ciples which Lycurgus or Gracchus would have 
 applied to Revolutionary or Republican France ; 
 and without their adoption, the benefits of the 
 Revolution are a mere chimera."t| 
 
 * Lac, xiii., 13. Mign., ii., 411, t Lac, xiii., 14. 
 
 X These doctrines of Babteuf, which were nothing more 
 than the maxims of the Revolution pushed to their legiti- 
 mate Consequences, instead of being stopped short when they 
 had served the purpose of a particular party, show how cor- 
 rectly Mr. Burke had, long before, charactenzed the real 
 Jacobin principles. " Jacobinism," says he, " is the revolt 
 of the enterprising talents of a country against its property. 
 When private men form themselves into associations for the 
 ■ purpose of destroying the laws and institutions of their coun- 
 
 There was a time when plausible doctrines 
 such as these, so well* calculated to But they fail 
 excite the passions of the squalid now m rous- 
 multitude in great cities, would in all ing the peo- 
 probabilityhave produced a great ef- !'''=• 
 lect on tlie Parisian populace; but time extin- 
 guishes passion, and discovers illusions to a 
 generation as well as an individual. The peo- 
 ple were no longer to be deceived by these high- 
 sounding expressions ; they knew, by dear-bought 
 experience, that the equality of Democracy is 
 only an equality of subjection, and the equal di- 
 vision of property only a pretence for enriching 
 the popular rulers. The lowest of the populace 
 alone, accordingly, were moved by the efibrts of 
 the Jacobins; and the Directory, finding their 
 government firmly established in the opinions of 
 the better classes, closed the club at „ 
 the Pantheon, and seized several ^^^- ^^' "^^^ 
 numbers of Babocuf's Journal, containing pas- 
 sages tending to overthrow the Constitution. To 
 avert the farther encroachments of the Jacobin 
 party, they endeavoured to introduce a restriction 
 on the liberty of the press ; but the two councils, 
 after a solemn discussion, refused to sanction 
 any such attempt.* 
 
 Defeated in this attempt, the Jacobins formed 
 an Insurrectional Committee of Pub- Renewed ef- 
 lic Safety, which communicated, by forts of the 
 means of twelve confidential agents, Revoiution- 
 with aiiiliated societies in every part '^'^• 
 of Paris. Baboeuf was at their head ; the chiefs 
 assembled in a place called the Temple of Rea^ 
 son, where they smig songs deploring the death, 
 of Robespierre and the slaveiy of the people. 
 They had some communication with the troops in 
 the camp at Grenelle, and admitted to their secret 
 meetings a captain in that force named Grizel, 
 whom they considered one of their most impor- 
 tant adherents. Their design was to establish 
 the " Public Good," and for that end to divide 
 property of every description, and put at the head 
 of affairs a government consisting of " true, pure, 
 and absolute Democrats." It was unanimously 
 agreed to murder the directors, disperse the coun- 
 cils, and put to death their leading members, and 
 erect the sovereignty of the people; but to whom 
 to intrust the supreme authority of the executive 
 after this was achieved, was a matter of anxious 
 and diflicult deliberation. At length they fixed 
 on sixty-eight persons who were esteemed the 
 most pure and absolute Democrats, in whom the 
 powers of the state were to be invested until the 
 complete Democratic rigivw was established. 
 The day for commencing the insurrection was 
 fixed, and all the means of carrying it into effect 
 arranged. It was to take place on the 21st of 
 May. Placards and banners were prepared, 
 bearing the words, " Liberty, Equality, Consti- 
 tution of 1793, Common Good ;" and others hav- 
 ing the inscription, " Those who usurp the sov- 
 ereignty of the people should be put 
 to death by freemen." The conspir- fX^irato^s! 
 ators were to march from different 
 quarters to attack the directors and the councils, 
 
 try ; when they secure to themselves an army, by dividing 
 among the people of no property the estates of the ancient 
 and lawful proprietors ; when the state recognises those 
 acts ; when it does not make confiscation for crimes, but; 
 crimes for confiscations ; when it has its principal strength, 
 and all its resources in such a violation of property ; when 
 it stands chiefly upon such violation, massacring, by judg- 
 ments or otherwise, those who make any struggle for their 
 old legal government and their old legal possessions — I call 
 this Jacobinism by establishment." — Thoughts on a Regicide 
 Peace, 97. 
 * Th., viii., 179. Mign., ii., 411. Lac, xiii., 15. 
 
488 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIV. 
 
 and make themselves masters of the Luxem- 
 bourg, the treasury, the telegraph, and the arse- 
 nal ol' artillery at Meudon; a corre.spondence 
 had been opened with the Jacobins in other quar- 
 ters, so that the revolt would break out simul- 
 taneously in all parts of France. To induce the 
 lower classes to take part in the proceedings, 
 proclamations were immediately to be issued, 
 requiring ever}' citizen of any property to lodge 
 and maintain a man who had joined in the in- 
 surrection ; and the bakers, butchers, and wine- 
 merchants were to be obliged to furnish the arti- 
 cles in which they dealt to the citizens at a low 
 price fixed by the government. All soldiers who 
 should join the people were to receive instantly 
 a large sum in money, and their discharge ; or, 
 if they preferred remaining by their colours, tliey 
 were to get the houses of the Royalists to pil- 
 lage.* 
 
 These desperate and extreme measures, wor- 
 thy of Catiline's conspirators, the natural result 
 of a long-continued revolutionaiy strife, indica- 
 ted a perfect knowledge of human nature, and 
 might, at an earlier period, have roused the most 
 vehement Democratic passions. But coming, 
 as they did, at a time when such opinions inspi- 
 red all men of any property with horror, they fail- 
 ed in producing any considerable effect. The de- 
 signs of the conspirators were divulged to gov- 
 Mav 20 1796 ernment by Crrizel ; and on the '20th 
 The conspira- of May, the day before the plot was 
 cy is discover- to have been earned into execution, 
 ed, and Ba- Babcpuf, and all the leaders of the 
 bceutanested. enterprise, were seized at their place 
 of assembly, and with them the documents which 
 indicated the extent of the conspiracy. Baboeuf, 
 though in captivity, abated nothing of his haugh- 
 ty bearing, and would only condescend to nego- 
 tiate with the government on a footing of perfect 
 equality. " Do you consider it beneath you," 
 said he to the Directory, " to treat with me "as an 
 independent power 1 You see of what a vast 
 parly I am the centre ; you see that it nearl}' bal- 
 ances your own ; you see what immense ramifi- 
 cations it contains. I am well assured that the 
 discovery must have made you tremble. It is 
 nothing to have arrested the chiefs of the conspir- 
 acy; it will revive in other bosoms, if theirs are 
 extinct. Abandon the idea of shedding blood in 
 vain; you have not hitherto made much noise 
 about the affair — make no more ; treat with the 
 patriots; they recollect that you were once sin- 
 cere Republicans ; they will pardon you if you 
 concur with them in measures calculated to ef- 
 fect the salvation of the Republic." Instead of 
 acceding to this extravagant proposal, the Di- 
 rectory published the letter, and ordered the trial 
 of the conspirators before the high court at Ven- 
 dome. This act of vigour contributed more than 
 anything they had yet done to consolidate the au- 
 thority of govemment.t 
 
 The partisans of Baboeuf, however, were not 
 29th Au-^ust discouraged. Some months after- 
 His panTsans ward, aiid before the trial of the 
 break out at chiefs had come on, they marched 
 Crenelle; jj^ ^j^g night, to the number of six or 
 seven hundred, anned with sabres and pistols, to 
 the camp at Crenelle. They were received by a 
 regiment of dragoons, which, instead of fraterni- 
 Bui are de- zing with them as they expected, 
 feated and charged and dispersed the motley ar- 
 eiecuted. j-^y. Great numbers were cut down 
 
 * Th., viii., 193, 196. Mign., it., 412, 413. 
 t Th., Till., 197, 19S. Mijn., u., 413. 
 
 in the fight. Of the prisoners taken, thirty-one 
 were condemned and executed by a military 
 commission, and thirty transported. This se- 
 vere blow extinguished for a long period the 
 hopes of the Revolutionary party, by cutting off 
 all their leaders of resolutioh and ability, and 
 though it still inspired terror by the recollection 
 of its former excesses, it ceased from this time 
 forv/ard to have any real power to disturb the 
 tranquillity of the state. Despotism is never so 
 secure as after the miseries of anarchy have beea 
 recently experienced.* 
 
 The Directoiy followed up this success by the 
 trial of Baba?uf, Amar, Vadier, Trial of the 
 Darthe, and the other leaders taken leaders previ- 
 onthe 29th of May, before the court ously arrested, 
 of Vendome. Their behaviour on this occasion 
 was that of men who neither feared death nor 
 were ashamed of the cause in which they were 
 to die. At the commencement and conclusion, 
 of each day's proceedings, they sung the Marseil- 
 laise hymn ; their wives attended them to the 
 court ; and Babosuf, at the conclusion of his 
 defence, turned towards them and said " that they- 
 should follow them to Mount Calvar)', because 
 they had no reason to blush for the cause for 
 which they suffered." They were all acquitted 
 except Baboeuf and Darthe, v,dio were condemned 
 to death. On hearing the sentence, they mutual- 
 ly stabbed each other with a poniard, and died 
 with the stoicism of ancient Rome.t 
 
 The terror excited by these repeated efforts of 
 the Jacobins was extreme, and totally dispropor- 
 tioned to the real danger with which they were 
 attended. It is the remembrance of the danger 
 which is past, not that which is present, that 
 ever affects the generality of mankind. This 
 feeling encouraged the Royalists to make an ef- 
 fort to regain their ascendency, in the hope that 
 the troops in the camp at Grenelle who had so 
 finnly resisted the seductions of the Democratic, 
 might be more inclined to aid the exertions 
 of the monarchical party. Their conspiracy, 
 however, destitute of any aid in the legislative 
 bodies, though numerously supported by the 
 population of Paris, proved abortive. Abortive at- 
 Its leaders were Brotier, an old coun- tempt of the 
 sellor in Parliament, Lavillehoumois, Royalists, 
 and Dunau. They made advances to Malo, the 
 captain of dragoons, who had resisted the seduc- 
 tions of the Jacobins ; but he was equally inac- 
 cessible to the offers of the Royalists, and deliv- 
 ered up their leaders to the Directory. They 
 were handed over to the civil tribunal, who, be- 
 ing unwilling to renew the reign of blood, hu- 
 manely suffered them to escape with a .short im- 
 prisonment.: 
 
 The manners of 1795 and 1796 were different 
 from any which had yet prevailed singular man- 
 in France, and exhibited a singular nprsofthispe- 
 specimen of the love of order and ""'' '^ France, 
 the spirit of elegance regaining their ascendant 
 over a nation which had lost its nobility, its re- 
 ligion, and its morals. The total destruction of 
 fortunes of every description during the Revolu- 
 tion, and the complete ruin of paper money, re- 
 duced ever}" one to the necessity of doing some- 
 thing for himself, and restored commerce to its 
 pristine form of barter. The saloons of fashion 
 were converted into magazines of stuffs, where 
 ladies of the highest rank engaged, during the 
 day, in the drudgerj' of trade, to maintain their 
 
 * Th., viii., 349. Mi?n., ii.. 414. 
 t Mi?n., ii., 41.'i. Th'., ix., 35. 
 } Mign., u., 416. Th., ix., 28. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 489 
 
 families or relations, while in the evening the 
 reign of pleasure and amusement was resumed. 
 In the midst of the wreck of ancient opulence, 
 modern wealth began to display its luxury; the 
 Faubourg St. Antoine, the seat of manufactures, 
 the Faubourg St. Germain, the abode of rank, 
 remained deserted, but in the quarter of the 
 chaussee d'Antin, and in the Boulevard Ital- 
 ienne, the riches of the bankers, and of those 
 who had made fortunes in the Revolution, began 
 to shine with unprecedented lustre. Splendid 
 hotels, sumptuously furnished in the Grecian 
 taste, which had now become the fashion, were 
 embellished by magnificent fetes, where all that 
 was left of elegance in France by the Revolu- 
 tion, assembled to indulge the newborn passion 
 for enjoyment. The dresses of the women were 
 carried to extravagance, in the Grecian style ; 
 and the excessive nudity which they exhibit'ed, 
 while it proved fatal to many persons of youth 
 and beauty, contributed, by the novel aspect of 
 the charms which were presented to the public 
 eye, to increase the general enchantment. The 
 assemblies of Barras, in particular, were re- 
 markable for their magnificence ; but in the gen- 
 eral confusion of ranks and characters wliich 
 they presented, afforded too clear an indication 
 of the universal destruction of the ancient land- 
 marks, in morals as well as society, which the 
 Revolution had effected.* 
 
 In these assemblies were to be seen the ele- 
 ments out of which the imperial court was after- 
 ward formed. The young ofhcers who had risen 
 to eminence in the Republican armies began 
 here to break through the rigid circle of aristo- 
 cratic etiquette ; and the mixture of characters 
 and ideas which the Revolution had produced, 
 rendered the style of conversation incomparably 
 more varied and animating than anything which 
 had been known under the ancient rigime. In 
 a few years the world had lived through centu- 
 ries of knowledge. There was to be seen 
 Hoche, not yet twenty-seven years of age, who 
 had recently extinguished the war in La Vendee, 
 and whose handsome figure, brilliant talents, and 
 rising glory rendered him the idol of women 
 even of aristocratic habits ; while the thoughtful 
 air, energetic conversation, and eagle eye of Na- 
 poleon, already, to persons of discernment, fore- 
 told no ordinary destinies. The beauty of Ma- 
 dame Tallien was still in its zenith ; while the 
 grace of Madame Beauhamois, and the genius 
 of Madame de Stael, threw a lustre over the re- 
 viving society of the capital which had been un- 
 known since the fall of the monarchy. The il- 
 lustrious men of the age, for the most part, at 
 this period selected their partners for life from 
 the brilliant circle by which they were surround- 
 ed ; and never did such destinies depend on the 
 decision or caprice of the moment. Madame 
 Permon, a lady of rank and singular attractions, 
 from Corsica, in whose family Napoleon had 
 from infancy been intimate, and whose daughter 
 afterward became Duchess of Abrantes, refused 
 in one morning the hand of Napoleon for her- 
 self, that of his brother Joseph for her daughter, 
 and that of his sister Pauline for her son. She 
 little thought that she was declining for herself 
 the throne of Charlemagne ; for her daughter, 
 that of Charles V. ; and for her son, the most 
 beautiful princess in Europe.t 
 
 But the passions raised were too violent, the 
 
 „ „„ ^ * Mign.. 11., 4'21, 4ay. J- 
 
 * Th., vm., 180. Lac., xiii., 34, 35. D'Abr., ii., 44, 64. Th.. ix., 36. D'Abr., i., 120. 
 t D'Abr., u., 44, 48. Th., viii., 181, 182. ' t Th., ii., 165. Nap., iv., 216 
 
 wounds inflicted too profound, for „ ^.v ,. 
 
 • . » , ■' , , ^ ' 1 But the result 
 
 society to relapse, without farther of the elec- 
 convulsions, into a state of repose ; tions is prepar 
 and France was again destined to "■'"? ^ catas- 
 undergo the horrors of Jacobin rule "'"i''^*- 
 before she settled down under the despotism of 
 the sword. The Directory was essentially Dem- 
 ocratic ; but the first eleciions having taken 
 place during the excitement produced by the 
 suppression of the revolt of the sections at Paris 
 and two thirds of the councils being composed 
 of the members of the old convention, the legis- 
 lature was, in that respect, in harmony with the 
 executive. But the elections of the ^i^^ .-g- 
 year 1797, when one third of both TheRo'yaiista 
 were changed, produced a total al- prevail m tho 
 teration in the balance of parties in "^w elections, 
 the state. These elections, for the most part, 
 turned out favourable to the Royalist interest; 
 and so far did the members of that party carry 
 hostility to the Jacobins, that they questioned all 
 the candidates in many of the provinces as to 
 whether they were holders of the national do- 
 mains, or had ever been engaged in the Revolu- 
 tion, or in any of the public journals, and in- 
 stantly rejected all who answered affirmatively 
 to any of these questions. The reaction againsS 
 the Revolution was soon extremely powerful 
 over the whole departments. The Royalists, 
 perceiving from the turn of the elections that 
 they would acquire a majority, soon gained the 
 energy of victor}^ The multiiude, ever ready 
 to follow the victorious party, ranged themselves 
 on their side, while a hundred journals thunder- 
 ed forth their declamations against the govern- 
 ment, without its venturing to invoke the aid of 
 the sanguinaiy law, which affixed the punish- 
 ment of death against all offences tending to- 
 wards a restoration of royalty. The avowed 
 corruption, profligacy, and unmeasured ambi- 
 tion of Barras, and the majority of the Directo- 
 ry, strongly contributed to increase the reactiou 
 throughout the country. The result of the elec- 
 tions was such, that a great majority in both 
 councils was in the Royalist or anti-convention- 
 al interest ; and the strength of the Republicaa 
 party lay solely in the Directory and the army.* 
 
 The first act of the new assembly, or, rather, of 
 the assembly with its new third of members, was 
 to choose a successor to the director Letourneur, 
 upon whom the lot had fallen of retiring frora 
 the government. The choice fell on ' 
 
 Barthelemy, the minister who had Barthelemy ia 
 
 1 J J .1 -.1 T-> • chosen a di- 
 
 concluded the peace with Prussia j-ector in lieu 
 and Spain — a respectable man of of Letoumeur, 
 Royalist principles. Pichegru, dep- and joins Car- 
 uty of the Jura, was, amid loud ac- °°'' 
 clamations, appointed president of the Council 
 of Five Hundred ; Barbe Marbois, also a Roy- 
 alist, president of the Council of the Ancients. 
 Almost all the ministiy were changed, and the 
 Directory was openly divided into two parties, 
 the majority consisting of Rewbell, Barras, and 
 Lareveillere, the minority of Barthelemy and 
 Camot.t 
 
 The chief strength of the Royalist party lay in 
 the club of Clichy, which acquired as 
 preponderating an influence at this epoch |^J"V^ 
 as that of the Jacobins had done at an "^ ^* 
 earlier stage of the Revolution. Few among 
 their number were in direct communication with 
 the Royalists, but they were all animated with 
 
 Mign.. ii., 421, 422. Lac, xiv., 16. Nap., iv., 216. 
 
490 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIV. 
 
 hatred at the Jacobins, and an anxious desire to 
 prevent their regaining their ascendency in the 
 government. The opposite side assembled at 
 Club of Salra, the Club oi Salm, where was arrayed 
 of the Repub- the Strength of the Republicans, the 
 hcans. Directory, and the army. Carnot, 
 
 though a steady Republican, was inclined to join 
 the Royalist party from his love of freedom and 
 his rooted aversion to violent measures. Stead- 
 ily pursuing what he conceived to be the public 
 good, he had, during the crisis of the Reign of 
 Terror, supported the dictatorial ; and now, 
 ■when the danger to freedom from foreign subju- 
 gation was over, he strove to regain the regal 
 riginie. The opposite factions soon became so 
 exasperated that they mutually aimed at sup- 
 planting each other by means of a revolution ; a 
 neutral party, headed by Thibaudeau, strove to 
 prevent matters coming to extremities ;* but, as 
 usual in such circumstances, was unsuccessful, 
 and shared in the ruin of the vanquished. 
 
 The reaction in favour of Royalist principles 
 ^ 1 . 'i'^ this juncture was so strong, that out 
 action in fa- of seventy periodical journals which 
 TourofRoy- appeared at Paris, only three or four 
 alist princi- supported the cause of the Revolution. 
 P'®^' Lacretelle, the future historian of the 
 
 Revolution, the Abbe Morellet, La Harpe, Si- 
 card, and all the literary men of the capital, 
 "wrote periodically on the Royalist side. Mi- 
 chaux, destined to illustrate and beautify the 
 History of the Crusades, went so far as to pub- 
 lish a direct do^^c on the princes of the exiled 
 family ; an offence which, by the subsisting 
 laws, was punishable with death. He was in- 
 dicted for the offence, but acquitted by the jury, 
 amid the general applause of the people. The 
 majority in the councils supported the liberty of 
 the press, from which their party were reaping 
 such advantages, and, pursuing a cautious but 
 incessant attack upon government, brought them 
 into obloquy by continually exposing the confu- 
 sion of the finances, which was becoming inex- 
 tricable, and dwelling on the continuance of the 
 Tvar, which appeared interminable. + 
 
 At this epoch, by a singular but not unnatural 
 train of events, the partisans of royalty were the 
 strongest supporters of the liberty of the press, 
 while the Jacobin government did everything in 
 their power to stifle its voice. This is the natu- 
 ral course of things when parties have changed 
 places, and the executive authority is in the 
 hands of the popular leaders. Freedom of dis- 
 cussion is the natural resource of liberty, wheth- 
 er menaced by resral. Republican, or military vio- 
 lence; it is the insurrection of thought against 
 physical force.: It may frequently mislead and 
 blind the people, and lor years perpetuate the 
 most fatal delusions ; but still it is the polar star 
 of freedom, and it alone can restore the light of 
 truth to the generation it has misled. The press 
 is not to be feared in any country where the bal- 
 ance of power is properly maintained, and op- 
 posing parties divide the state, because their op- 
 posite interests and passions call forth contradic- 
 tory statements and arguments, which at length 
 extricate truth from their collision : the period 
 of danger from its abuse commences when it is 
 in great part turned to one side, either by des- 
 potic power, Democratic violence, or purely Re- 
 publican institutions. France, under Napoleon, 
 was an example of the first ; Great Britain, du- 
 
 * Mi?n., ii, 425. N.ip., iv., 217, 218. Th., ix., 165, 166. 
 + Mign., 11., 422. Lac, iiv., 16, 18. 
 X Mad. deStael, ii., 183. 
 
 ring the Reform fever in 1831, of the second; 
 America, of the third. Wherever one power in 
 the state is overbearing, whether it be that of a 
 sovereign or of the multitude, the press generally 
 becomes the instrument of the most debasing ty- 
 ranny.* 
 
 To ward off the attacks, the Directory pro- 
 posed a law for restricting the liberty Measures of 
 of the press, and substituting gradu- the Directo- 
 ated penalties for the odious punish- ry to avert 
 ment which the subsisting law au- '''^ danger, 
 thorized, but which could not be carried into ef- 
 fect from its severity. It passed the Five Hun- 
 dred, but was thrown out in the Ancients, amid 
 transports of joy in the Pioyalist party. Encour- 
 aged by this success, they attempted to undo the 
 worst parts of the Revolutionary fabric : the pun- 
 ishment of imprisonment or transportation, to 
 which the clergy were liable by the Revolution- 
 aiy laws, was repealed, and a proposal made to 
 permit the open use of the ancient worship, al- 
 low the use of bells in the churches, the cross on 
 the graves of such as chose to place that emblem 
 there, and relieve the priests from the necessity 
 of taking the Republican oaths. On this occa- 
 sion, Camille Jourdan, deputy from camille Jour- 
 Lyons, whose religious and Royalist dan's efforts 
 principles had been strongly con- in favour of 
 firmed by the atrocities of the Jaco- '■•^I'S'on- 
 bins in that unfortunate city, made an eloquent 
 and powei'ful speech, which produced a great 
 sensation. He pleaded strongly the great cause 
 of religious toleration, and exposed the iniquity 
 of those laws which, professing to remove the 
 restrictions on subjects of faith, imposed fetters 
 severer than had ever been known to Catholic 
 superstition. The council, tired of the faded 
 extravagances on the subject of freedom, were 
 entranced for the moment by a species of elo- 
 quence for years unheard in the assembly, and 
 by the revival of feelings long strangers to their 
 breasts, and listened to the declamations of the 
 young enthusiast as they would have done to 
 the preaching of Peter the Hermit. But the at- 
 tempt was premature ; the principles of infidelity 
 were too deeply seated to be shaken by transient 
 bursts of genius ; and the council ultimately re- 
 jected the proposal by such a majority as showed 
 that ages of suffering must yet be endured before 
 that fatal poison could be expelled from the so- 
 cial body.t 
 
 Encouraged by this state of opinion in the 
 capital, the emigrants and the banish- General re- 
 ed priests assembled in crowds from turn of the 
 every part of Europe. Fictitious pass- emigranu 
 ports were transmitted from Paris to ^"'^ clergy. 
 Hamburg and other towns, where they were ea- 
 gerly purchased by those who longed ardently to 
 revisit their native" land. The clerg}' returned in 
 still greater numbers, and were received with 
 transports of joy by their faithful flocks, espe- 
 cially in the western departments, who for four 
 years had been deprived of all the ordinances 
 and consolations of religion ; the infants were 
 anew baptized; the sick visited; the nuptial ben- 
 ediction pronounced by consecrated lips, and the 
 last rites performed over the remains of the faith- 
 ful. On this, as on other occasions, however, 
 the energy of the Royalists consisted rather in 
 words than in actions ; they avowed too openly 
 the extent of their hopes not to awaken the vigi- 
 lance of the Revolutionary party ; and spoke 
 
 * Mad. de StaSI, ii., 263. 
 
 t Lac, liv., 20, 54. Mign., li., 422, 423. Th., ijc., 174. 
 
1801.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 491 
 
 themselves inio the belief that their strength was 
 irresistible, while their adversaries were silently 
 preparing the means of overturning it.* 
 
 la eliect, ilie rapid march of the Councils, and 
 
 the declamations of the Royalists, 
 Great alarm of ^ ^ ^ ^^ tribune, in the club of 
 the Ui rectory. ^,. , i • .l li- • i 
 
 Chchy, and in the public journals, 
 
 awakened an extreme alarm among that numer- 
 ous body of men, who, from having been impli- 
 cated in the crimes of the Revolution, or gainers 
 Irom its excesses, had the strongest interest to 
 prevent its principles from receding. The Di- 
 rectory became alarmed for their own existence, 
 by reason of the decided majority of their antag- 
 onists in both councils, and the certainty that the 
 approaching election of a third would almost to- 
 tally ruin the Republican party. It had already 
 been ascertained that 190 of the deputies were en- 
 gaged to restore the exiled family, while the Di- 
 rectory could only reckon upon the support of 
 130 ; and the Ancients had resolved, by a large 
 majority, to transfer the seat of the legislature to 
 Rouen, on account of its proximity to the western 
 provinces, whose Royalist principles had always 
 been so decided. The next election, it was ex- 
 pected, would nearly extinguish the Revolution- 
 ary party ; and the Directory were aware that the 
 transition was easy for regicides, as the greater 
 part of them were, from the Luxembourg to the 
 scatfold.t 
 
 In this extremity, the majority of the Directory, 
 
 consisting of Barras, Rewbell, and 
 caifmalonty' Lareveillere Lepaux, resolved upon 
 oftheDirec- decisive measures. They could 
 tory resolve on .reckon with confidence upon the 
 decisive meas- support of the army, which, having 
 
 been raised during the revolutionary 
 fervour of 1793, and constantly habituated to the 
 intoxication of Republican triumphs, was strong- 
 ly imbued with Democratic principles. This, in 
 the existing state of alfairs, was an assistance of 
 immense importance. They therefore drew to- 
 wards Paris a number of regiments, twelve thou- 
 sand strong, from the army of the Sambre and 
 Meuse, which were known to be most Repub- 
 lican in theii' feelings; and these troops were 
 brought within the circle of twelve leagues round 
 the legislative body, which the Constitution for- 
 bade the armed force to cross. Barras wrote to 
 Hoche, who was in Holland superintending the 
 preparations for the invasion of Ireland, inform- 
 ing him of the dangers of the government; and 
 he readily undertook to support them with all his 
 Thevchaiii^e •i^'^^iority. The ministers were chan- 
 all the mi'ms- ged : Bizmuth, minister of the inte- 
 ters, andcol- rior ; Cochon, minister of police; 
 lect troops Petit, minister of war; Lacroix, min- 
 round 1 aris. ^^^^^ ^f foreign aflairs ; and Truguet, 
 of marine, who were all suspected of inclining 
 to the party of the councils, were suddenly dis- 
 missed. In their place were substituted Fran- 
 cois de Neufchateau, in the ministry of the inte- 
 rior ; Hoche, in that of war ; Lenoir Larouche, 
 in that of the police; and Talleyrand, in that of 
 foreign affairs. The strong sagacity of this last 
 politician led him to incline, in all the changes 
 of the Revolution, to what was about to prove 
 the victorious side ; and his accepting office under 
 the Directory at this crisis was strongly symp- 
 tomatic of the chances which were accumulated 
 in their favour.t Camot, from this moment, be- 
 
 *Th., ix, 191. Mig-n., ii., 424. 
 
 t Thil)auileauiMem.,ii., 321. Lac, iiv..61. Th.,ix.,192. 
 t Carnot, 89, et seq. Lac, liv., 61, 67. Th., ix., 309, 
 510. Mign., i., 424. 
 
 came convinced that his ruin had been deter- 
 mined on by his colleagues. Barras and Lare- 
 veillere had long borne him a secret grudge, 
 which sprung from his having signed the war- 
 rant, during the Reign of Terror, for the arrest 
 of Danton, who was the leader of their party. 
 
 Barras and Hoche kept up an active corre- 
 spondence with Napoleon, whose co- ,, 
 
 ' . ■ c 1 . Measures of 
 
 operation was oi so much impor- Napoleon ; he 
 
 tance to secure the success of their resolves to 
 
 enterprise. He was strongly urged support the 
 
 by the Directory to come to Paris J^«P"biicans, 
 
 J .. .1 X 1 ■. ^"iJ ''"■ that 
 
 and support the government ; while, purpose sends 
 on the other hand, his intimate Lavaiette to 
 friends advised him to proceed there ^^^"^• 
 and proclaim himself Dictator, as he afterward 
 did on his return from Egypt. That he hesitated 
 whether he should or not, even at that period, fol- 
 low the footsteps of Cajsar, is avowed by himself; 
 but he judged, probably wisely, that the period 
 was not yet arrived for putting such a design in 
 execution, and that the miseries of a Republic 
 had not yet been sulficiently experienced to en- 
 sure the success of an enterprise destined for its 
 overthrow. He was resolved, however, to sup- 
 port the Directory, both "because he was aware 
 that the opposite party had determined upon his 
 dismissal, from an apprehension of the dangers 
 which he might occasion to public freedom, and 
 because their principles, being those of modera- 
 tion and peace, were little likely to favour his 
 ambitious projects. Early, therelbre, ^ , 
 
 in the spring of 1797, he sent his aid- ' ^ 
 
 de-camp, Lavaiette, who afterward acquired a 
 painful celebrity in the history of the restoration, 
 to Paris, to observe the motions of the parties, 
 and communicate to him the earliest intelligence ; 
 and afterward despatched Auge- , , „. ,_„_ 
 reau, a general- of decided character ^' ' 
 and known Revolutionary principles, to that 
 city to support the government. He declined 
 coming to the capital himself, being unwilling to 
 sully his hands and risk his reputation by a 
 second victory over its inhabitants; but he had 
 made his arrangements, so that, in the event of 
 the Directory being defeated, he should, five days 
 after receiving intelligence of the disaster, make 
 his entry into Lyons at the head of twenty thou- 
 sand men, and, rallying the Republicans every- 
 where to his standard, advance to Paris, passing 
 thus, like another Ca:sar, the Rubicon at the 
 head of the popular party.* 
 
 To awaken the Republican ardour of his sol- 
 diers, Napoleon celebrated the anni- „• , 
 
 ' ^. , , . n , X , His proclama- 
 
 versary ot the taking of the Bastile tioniohissol- 
 on July the 14th by a fi!c, on which diers on I4th 
 occasion he addressed the following •'"'y- 
 order ofthe day to his troops: "Soldiers! This is 
 the anniversary of the 14th of July. You see be- 
 fore you the names of your companions in arms, 
 who have died on the field of battle for the liber- 
 ty of their country ; they have given you an ex- 
 ample; you owe yourselves to j'our country; 
 you are devoted to the prosperity of thirty mill- 
 ions of Frenchmen, to the glory of that name 
 which has received such additional lustre from 
 your victories. I know that you are profoundly 
 affected at the misfortunes which threaten your 
 country; but it is not in any real danger. The 
 same men who have caused it to triumph over 
 Europe in arms, are ready. Mountains separate 
 us from France. You will cross them with the 
 
 * Nap., iv., 22fi, 227. Bour., i., 223, 232. Las Cas., iv., 
 157. Lav., i., 272. 
 
492 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIV. 
 
 rapidity of the eagle, if it be necessarj', to main- 
 tain the Constitution, to defend liberty, to protect 
 the government of the Republicans. Soldiers ! 
 the government watches over the sacred deposite 
 of the laws which it has received. From the in- 
 stant that the Royalists show themselves, they 
 have ceased to ex'ist.* Have no fears of the re- 
 sult ; and swear by the manes of the heroes who 
 have died among us in defence of freedom, 
 swear on our standards, eternal war to the ene- 
 mies of the Republic and of tiie Constitution." 
 
 This proclamation proved extremely service- 
 Thearmy ^^le to the Directoi7. The flame 
 strongly sup- Spread from rank to rank ; addresses, 
 ports the Di- breathing the most vehement Repub- 
 rectory. lican spirit, were voted by all the re- 
 giments and squadrons of the anny, and trans- 
 mitted to the Directory and the councils, with 
 the signatures attached to them. Many of these 
 productions breathed the whole rancour of the 
 Extravagant Jacobin spirit. That of the 29th 
 addresses from dcmi-brigade commenced with these 
 the soldiers, words : " Of all the animals pro- 
 duced by the caprice of nature, the vilest is a 
 king, the most cowardly is a courtier, the worst 
 is a priest. If the scoundrels who disturb France 
 are not crushed by the forces you possess, call 
 to your aid the 29th demi-brigade — it will soon 
 discomfit all your enemies; Chouans, English, 
 all will take to flight. We will pursue our un- 
 worthy citizens even into the chambers of their 
 worthy patron George III., and the Club of Cli- 
 chy will undergo the fate of that of Reney." 
 Augereau brought with him the address of the 
 soldiers of the Italian army. " Tremble, Royal- 
 ists !" said they ; " from the Adige to the Seine is 
 but a step — tremble ! Your iniquities are num- 
 bered, and their reward is at the point of our 
 bayonets." " It is with indignation," said the 
 staff of the Italian army, " that we have seen the 
 intrigues of royalty menace the fabric of liberty. 
 We have sworn, by the manes of the heroes who 
 died for their country, an implacable war to roy- 
 alty and Royalists. These are our sentiments, 
 these are yours ; these are those of the country. 
 Let the Royalists show themselves ; they have 
 ceased to live." Other addresses, in a similar 
 strain, flowed in from the armies of the Rhine 
 and the Moselle; it was soon evident that the 
 people had chosen for themselves their masters, 
 and that, under the name of freedom, a militar}' 
 despotism was about to be established. The Di- 
 rectory encouraged and published all these ad- 
 dresses, which produced a powerful impression 
 on the public mind. The councils loudly ex- 
 claimed against these menacing deliberations by 
 armed men; but government, as their only reply, 
 drew still nearer to Paris the twelve thousand 
 men who had been brought from Hoche's army, 
 and placed them at Versailles, Meudon, and 
 Vincennes.t 
 
 The party against whom the.se formidable prep- 
 , f ' arations were directed was strong 
 fl?ZjL in numbers and powerful in elo- 
 party consist- queuce, but totally destitute oi that 
 ed only in tal- reckless hardihood and fearless vig- 
 ent and elo- ^^^ which in civil con^iUsions is 
 quence. u.suallv found to command success. 
 
 Troncon DucoundVay, in the council of the An- 
 cients, drew, in strong and sombre colours, a pic- 
 ture of the consequences which would ensue to 
 the Directory themselves, their friends, and the 
 
 people of France, from this blind stifling of the 
 public voice by the threats of the armies. In 
 prophetic strains he announced the commence- 
 ment of a reign of blood, which would be closed 
 by the despotism of the sword. This discourse, 
 pronounced in an intrepid accent, recalled to 
 mind those periods of feudal tyranny, when the 
 victims of oppression appealed from the kings or 
 pontifis, who were about to stifle their voice, to 
 the justice of God, and summoned their accusers 
 to answer at that dread tribunal for their earthly 
 
 injustice. At the Club of Clichy, Their defen- 
 
 Jourdan, Vaublanc, and vVillot sive measures.- 
 strongly urged the necessity of hut decline to 
 adopting decisive measures. They commence 
 proposed to decree the arrest of Bar- °*' '^'^^" 
 ras, Rewbell, and Lareveillere ; to summon Car- 
 not and Barthelemy to the legislative body ; and 
 if they refused to obey, sound the tocsin, march 
 at the head of the old sectionaries against the 
 Director}', and appoint Pichegru the commander 
 of that legal insurrection. That great general 
 supported this energetic course by his weight 
 and authorit}' ; but the majority, overborne, as 
 the friends of order and freedom often are in rev- 
 olutionar}-^ convulsions, by their scruples of con- 
 science, decided against taking the lead in acts 
 of violence, and resolved only to decree the imme- 
 diate organization of the National Guard under 
 the command of Pichegru. " Let us leave to the 
 Directory," said they, " all the odium of beginning 
 violence." Sage advice, if they had been com- 
 bating an enemy capable of being swayed by 
 considerations of justice, but fatal in presence of 
 enterprising ambition, supported by the weight 
 of militar/- power.* 
 
 The actual force at the command of the coun- 
 cils was extremely small. Their slender mil- 
 body-guard consisted only of fifteen itary force as 
 hundred grenadiers, who could not be t'leir com- 
 relied on, as the event soon proved, in ™3"''- 
 a contest with their brethren in arms ; the Nation- 
 al Guard were disbanded, and w-ithout a rally- 
 ing-point; the Royalists, scattered, and destitute 
 of organization. They had placed the Guard un- 
 der the orders of their own ofhcers ; -uctidor 
 and on the 17th Fructidor, when s'ept. 3™*^Reor- 
 both councils had decreed the or- gamzation of 
 ganization of the National Guard the National 
 under Pichegru, this was to have ^"f,'-'^ "^"^"^.^^ 
 
 1 i- n J ^1- .. J I, by the councils, 
 
 been followed on the next day by a 
 
 decree, directing the removal of the troops from 
 the neighbourhood of Paris. But a sense of their 
 weakness, in such a strife, filled every- breast 
 with gloomy presentiments. Pichegru alone re- 
 tained his wonted firmness and serenity of mind.t 
 The Directory, on the other hand, had re- 
 course to immediate violence. They violent meas- 
 appointed Augereau, remarkable uresoftheDi- 
 for his Democratic principles, deci- ""ectory. 
 sion of character, and rudeness of manners, to 
 the command of the l7th military division, com- 
 prehending the environs of Paris and that city. 
 In the night of the 17th Fructidor They surround 
 (September 3) they moved all the the Tuileries 
 troops in the neighbourhood into "*''"^ ^'''"'P^- , 
 the capital, and the inhabitants at midnight be- 
 held, with breathless anxiety, twelve thousand 
 amied men defile in silence over the bridges, with. 
 forty pieces of cannon, and occupy all the ave- 
 nues to the Tuilerie.o.: Not a sound was to be 
 heard but the marching of the men an d the rol l- 
 
 * Nap., iv., 525. 
 
 + Mign., ii., 427. Nap., iv., 225. Lac, xir., 83, 85. 
 
 * MifT-, ii-, 427. Lac, xiv.. 85, 86. 
 t Lac, xiv., 88, 91. Mis-, ii-, 427. 
 t Mad. de StaSl, Rev. Fran?., ii., 184, 185. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 493 
 
 ing of the artillery, till the Tuileries were sur- 
 rounded, when a signal gun was discharged, 
 which made every heart that heard it beat with 
 agitation. Instantly the troops approached the 
 gates, and commanded them to be thrown open. 
 Murmurs arose among the guards of the coun- 
 cils: "We are not Swiss," exclaimed some; 
 ^ We were wounded by the Royalists on the I3tli 
 Vendemiaire,'' rejoined others. Ramel, their 
 faithful commander, who had received intelli- 
 gence of the coup d'etat which was approaching, 
 had eight hundred men stationed at all the en- 
 trances of the palace, and the remainder in order 
 of battle in the court ; the railings were closed, 
 and every preparation made for resistance. But 
 no sooner did the stalf of Augereau appear at the 
 gates, than the soldiers of Ramel exclaimed. 
 And the troops " Vive Augereau ! Vive le Direc- 
 then join Au- toire !" and, seizing their command- 
 gereau. gj.^ delivered him over to the assail- 
 
 ants. Augereau now traversed the garden of the 
 Tuileries, surrounded the hall of the councils, 
 arrested Pichegru, Willot, and twelve other lead- 
 Kevolution ers of the legislative assemblies, and 
 of the 18th conducted them to the Temple. The 
 Fructidor. members of the councils, who hurried 
 in confusion to the spot, were seized and impris- 
 oned by the soldiers. Those who were previ- 
 ously aware of the plot met by appointment in 
 the Odeon and the School of Medicine near the 
 Luxembourg, where they gave themselves out, 
 though a small minority, for the legislative as- 
 semblies of France. Barthelemy was at the 
 same time arrested by a body of troops despatch- 
 ed by Augereau, and Carnot narrowly avoided 
 the same late by making his escape, almost with- 
 out clothing, by a back door. By six o'clock in 
 the morning all was concluded. Several hun- 
 dred of the most powerful of the party of the 
 councils were in prison ; and the people, waken- 
 ing from their sleep, found the streets filled with 
 troops, the walls covered with proclamations, and 
 military despotism established.* 
 
 The first object of the Directory was to pro- 
 duce an impression on the public mind unfa- 
 vourable to the majority of the councils whom 
 they had overturned. For this purpose, they cov- 
 ered the streets of Paris early in the morning 
 with proclamations, in which they announced the 
 discovery and defeat of a Royalist plot, the trea- 
 son of Pichegru, and many members of the coun- 
 cils, and that the Luxembourg had been attacked 
 by them during the night. At the same time, 
 they published a letter of General Moreau, in 
 which the correspondence of Pichegru with the 
 emigrant princes was detailed, and a letter from 
 the Prince of Conde to Imbert, one of the An- 
 Passive sub- cients. The streets were filled with 
 mission of the crowds, who read in silence the proc- 
 peopie. lamations. Mere spectators of a 
 
 strife in which they had taken no part, they tes- 
 tified neither joy nor sorrow at the event. A few 
 detached groups, issuing from the faubourgs, 
 traversed the streets, exclairaing,t " Vive la Re- 
 publique! A bas les Aristocrates !" But the 
 people, in general, were as passive as in a des- 
 potic state. 
 
 The minority of the councils, who were in the 
 interest of the Directory, continued their meet- 
 ings in the Odeon and the School of Medicine ; 
 but their inconsiderable numbers demonstrated 
 so clearly the violence done to the Constitution, 
 
 * Mign., ii., 428, 429. Lac. xiv., 90, 93. Th., ii., 290, 
 293. Hour., I., 230, 245. 
 
 t Th., ix., 293. Migu., ii., 429, 430. Lac, xiv., 94, 95. 
 
 that they did not venture on any resolution at 
 their first sitting, but one authorizing the contin- 
 uance of the troops in Paris. On the following 
 day, the Directory sent them a message in these 
 terms: "The 18th Fructidor should AUuress of the 
 have saved the Republic and its real Directory to 
 representatives. Have you not ob- '■^^ councils, 
 served yesterday the tranquillity of the people, 
 and their joy 1 This is the I9th, and the people 
 ask, Where is the Republic 1 and what has the 
 legislative body done to consolidate it 1 The 
 eyes of the country are fixed upon you ; the de- 
 cisive moment has come. If you hesitate in the 
 measures you are to adopt, if you delay a minute 
 in declaring yourselves, it is all over both with 
 yourselves and the Republic. The conspirators 
 have watched while you were slumbering; your 
 silence restored their audacity ; they misled pub- 
 lic opinion by infamous libels, while the journal- 
 ists of the Bourbons and London never ceased 
 to distribute their poisons. The conspirators al- 
 ready speak of punishing the Republicans for the 
 triumph which they have commenced ; and can 
 you hesitate to purge the soil of France of that 
 small body of Royalists, who are only waiting 
 for the moment to tear in pieces the Republic, 
 and to devour yourselves. You are on the edge 
 of a volcano ; it is about to swallow you up ; you 
 have it in your power to close it, and yet you 
 deliberate ! To-morrow it will be too late : the 
 slightest indecision would now ruin the Repub- 
 lic. Y'ou will be told of principles, of delays, of 
 the pity due to individuals ; but how false would 
 be the principles, how ruinous the delays, how 
 misplaced the pity which should mislead the le- 
 gislative body from its duty to the Republic! 
 The Directory have devoted themselves to put in 
 your hands the means of saving France, but it 
 was entitled to expect that you would not hesi- 
 tate to seize them. They believed that you were 
 sincerely attached to freedom and the liepublic, 
 and that you would not be afraid of the conse- 
 quences of that first step. If the friends of kings 
 find in you their protectors — if slaves excite your 
 sympathy — if you delay an instant, it is all over 
 with the liberty of France ; the Constitution is 
 overturned, and you may at once proclaim to the 
 friends of their country that the hour of royalty 
 has struck. But if, as they believe, you recoil 
 with horror from that idea, seize the passing mo- 
 ment, become the liberators of your country, and 
 .secure forever its prosperity and glory." This 
 pressing message sufficiently demonstrates the 
 need which the Directory had of some legisla- 
 tive authority to sanction their dictatorial pro- 
 ceedings. The remnant of the councils yielded 
 to necessity; a council of five was appointed, 
 with instructions to prepare a law of pvMic safe- 
 ty ; and that proved a decree of ostracism, which 
 condemned to transportation almost all the no- 
 blest citizens of France.* 
 
 Following the recommendation of that com- 
 mittee, the councils, bv a stretch of T^r^^n;,.:,! 
 power, annulled the elections ot lor- measures of 
 ty-eight departments, which formed a the minority- 
 majority ol the legislative bodies, and "f the coun- 
 condemned to transportation to Gui- 
 ana, Carnot, Barthelemy, Pichegru, Camille 
 Jourdan, Troncon Ducondray, Henry Lariviere, 
 Imbert, Boissy d'Anglas, Willot, Cochon, Ra- 
 mel, Meranda, and fifty other members of the 
 legislative body. Merlin and Frangois de Neuf- 
 chateau were named directors in lieu of those 
 
 < Th., ii., 298. Lac, xir., 94, 99. Mign., u., 430. 
 
494 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXH'. 
 
 ■who were exiled. The Directory carried on the 
 government thereafter by the mere force of mili- 
 tary power, without even the shadow of legal 
 authority ; the places of the expelled deputies 
 were not filled up, but the assemblies left in their 
 mutilated state, without either consideration or 
 independence. Three men, without the aid of 
 historical recollections, without the lustre of vic- 
 tory, took upon themselves to govern France on 
 their own account, without either the support 
 of the law, or the concourse of legal assemblies.* 
 
 Their public acts soon became as violent as 
 the origin of their power had been illegal. The 
 Revolutionary laws against the priests and the 
 emigrants were revived, and, ere long, the whole 
 of those persons who had ruled in the depart- 
 ments since the fall of Robespierre were either 
 banished or dispossessed of their authority. The 
 revolution of the I8th Fructidor was not, like 
 the victoiy of the I3th Vendemiare, confined to 
 the capital ; it extended to the whole depart- 
 ments, revived everywhere the Jacobin ascend- 
 ency, and subjected the people over all France 
 to the rule of the army and the Revolutionary 
 leaders.t 
 
 The next step of the dictators was to extin- 
 Extinction of guish the liberty of the press. For 
 the liberty of this purpose a sccond proscription 
 the press. was published, which included the 
 authors, editors, printers, and contributors to for- 
 ty-two journals. As eight or ten persons were 
 included in the devoted number for each journal, 
 this act of despotism embraced nearly four hun- 
 dred individuals, among whom were to be found 
 all the literary genius of France. La Harpe, 
 Fontanes, and Sicard, though spared by the as- 
 sassins of the 2d of September, were struck by 
 this despotic act, as were Michaux and Lacre- 
 telle, the latter of whom composed, during a cap- 
 tivity of two years, his admirable history of the 
 religious wars in France. At the same time, 
 the press was subjected to the censorship of the 
 police ; while the pimishment of exiled priests 
 found in the territory of France was extended 
 to transportation to Guiana — a penalty worse 
 than death itself { 
 
 From the multitude of their captives, the Di- 
 Transporta- rectory at first selected fifteen, upon 
 tion of the whom the full rigour oi transporta- 
 inostiiiustri- tion should be inflicted. These were 
 ons citizeus Barthelemy, Pichegru, and Willot, 
 of France. p^Q^.^j.^^ Aubry, Bourdon de L'Oise, 
 Murinais, De la Rue, Ramel, Dossonville, 
 Troncon Ducondray, Barbe Marbois, Lafond 
 Ladebat (though the three last were sincere Re- 
 publicans), Brottier, andLaville Heurnois; their 
 number was augmented to sixteen by the devo- 
 tion of Letellier, servant of Barthelemy, who 
 insisted upon following his master. Camot was 
 only saved from the same fate by having esca- 
 ped to Geneva. " In the Directory," says he, 
 " I had contributed to save the Republic from 
 many dangers ; the proscription of the I8th Fruc- 
 tidor was my reward. I knew well that repub- 
 lics were ungrateful ; but I did not know, till I 
 learned it from my own experience, that Repub- 
 licans were so much so as they proved to me."§ 
 
 The transported victims were conveyed, amid 
 
 the execrations of the Jacobin mob, 
 
 Se^exiies' °^ ^'^ R-Ochefoit, from whence they were 
 
 sent to Guiana. Before embarking. 
 
 * Nap., iv.,235. 
 
 t Miffn., ii., 432. Th., ix.. 230. 299. Lac, xiv., 103. 
 
 t Lac, xiT.. 103. Miffn., li., 432. 
 
 ^ Carnot's Memoirs 212. Lav., 14, 70. 
 
 they received a toucning proof of sympathy in 
 the gift of 80,000 francs, by the widow of an il- 
 lustrious scientific character, who had been one 
 of the earliest victims of the Revolution. On 
 the road they were lodged in the jails as com- 
 mon felons. During the voyage they underwent 
 every species of horror ; cooped up in the hold 
 of a small vessel, under a tropical sun, they ex- 
 perienced all the sufferings of a slave-ship. No 
 sooner were they landed, than they were almost 
 all seized with the fevers of the climate, and 
 owed their lives to the heroic devotion of the 
 Sisters of Charity, who, on that pestilential 
 shore, exercised the never-failing beneficence of 
 their religion. Murinais, one of the Council of 
 the Ancients, died shortly after arriving at the 
 place of their settlement at Sinimari, Tron- 
 con Ducondray pronounced a funeral oration 
 over his remains, which his fellow-exiles in- 
 terred with"their own hands, from the words, " By 
 the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept." 
 Soon after, the eloquent panegyrist himself ex- 
 pired. He calmly breathed his last, rejoicing 
 on that distant shore that he had been faithful 
 in his duty to the royal family. " It is nothing 
 new to me," said he, " to see suffering, and learn 
 how it can be borne. I have seen the queen at 
 the Conciergerie." The hardships of the life to 
 which they were there subjected, the diseases of 
 that pestilential climate, and the heats of a trop- 
 ical sun, speedily proved fatal to the greater 
 number of the unhappy exiles. Pichegru sur- 
 vived the dangers, and was placed in a hut ad- 
 joining that of Billaud Varennes and Collot 
 D'Herbois, whom, after the fall of Robespierre, 
 he had arrested by orders of the convention ; a 
 singular instance of the instability of fortune 
 amid revolutionar}^ changes.* 
 
 Pichegru, Willot, Barthelemy, Aubry, Ramel, 
 and Dossonville, with the faithful Escape of 
 Letellier, their voluntary companion Pichegru from 
 in exile, contrived some months af- Guiaaa. 
 ter to make their escape ; and, after undergoing 
 extreme hardships, and traversing almost imper- 
 vious forests, succeeded in reaching the beach, 
 from whence they were conveyed to Surinam in 
 an open canoe. Aubry and Letellier perished, 
 but the remainder reached England in safety. 
 The Abbe Brottier, Bourdon de L'Oise, and Ro- 
 vere, both illustrious from their services on the 
 9th Thermidor, sunk under their sufferings at 
 Sinimari. The wife of the latter, a young and 
 beautiful woman, who had signalized herself, 
 like Madame Tallien, by her generous efforts at 
 the fall of Robespierre in behalf of humanity, 
 solicited and obtained from the Directory per- 
 mission to join her husband in exile ; but before 
 she had landed on that pestilential region he had 
 breathed his last. Several hundreds of the cler- 
 gy, victims of their fidelity to the faith of their 
 fathers, arrived in these regions of death, but 
 they almost all perished within a few months af- 
 ter their landing, exhibiting the constancy of 
 martyrs on that distant shore, while the hymns 
 of the new worship were sung in France by 
 crowds of abandoned women and the satellites 
 of Jacobin ferocity. The strong minds and ro- 
 bust frames of Barbe Marbois and Lafond Lade- 
 bat alone survived the sufferings of two years ; 
 and these, with eight of the transported priests, 
 were all who were recalled to France by the hu- 
 mane interposition of Napoleon when he assu- 
 med the reins of power.t 
 
 * Lac, XIV., 104, 105, 118, 121. Th., ix., 306 ' 
 
 t Lac, xiv., 121, 126. Th., ix., 306. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 495 
 
 Meanwliile the Directory pursued with vigour 
 Vigorous M^d ^iespotic measures in France. A 
 despoticmeas- large proportion ol the judges in the 
 \ires of the supreme courts were dismissed; the 
 Directory. institution of juries abolished ; and 
 a new and more rigorous law provided for the 
 banishment of the nobles and priests. It was 
 proposed that those who disobeyed or evaded its 
 enactment should become liable to transporta- 
 tion 10 Guiana ; the wives and daughters of the 
 nobles wlio were married were not exempted 
 from this enactment, unless they divorced their 
 husbands, and married citizens of plebeian birth. 
 But a more lenient law, which only subjected 
 them to additional penalties if they remained, 
 was adopted by the councils. Two hundred 
 thousand persons at once fell under the lash of 
 these severe enactments; their effect upon France 
 was to the last degree disastrous. The misera- 
 ble emigrants fled a second time in crowds from 
 the country, of which they were beginning to taste 
 the sweets ; and society, which was reviving 
 from the horrors of the Jacobin sway, was again 
 prostrated under its fury. They carried with 
 them to foreign lands that strong and inextin- 
 guishable hatred at Republican cruelty which 
 their own wrongs had excited, and mingling in 
 society everywhere, both on the Continent and in 
 the British Isles, counteracted in the most pow- 
 erful manner the enthusiasm in favour of Demo- 
 cratic principles, and contributed not a little to 
 the formation of that powerful league which ul- 
 timately led to their overthrow. Finally, the 
 councils openly avowed a national bankruptcy ; 
 they cut off forever two thirds of the national 
 debt of France ; closing thus a sanguinary revo- 
 lution by the extinction of freedom, the banish- 
 ment of virtue, and the violation of public faith.* 
 
 The revolution of the 18th Fructidor had been 
 This revolu- Concerted between Napoleon and 
 tion was pre- Barras long before it took place ; 
 viously con- the former was the real author of 
 Na'oleol"^ this catastrophe, and this is admit- 
 
 apo eon. ^^^ even by his warmest admirers.t 
 Augereau informed him, a month before, that 
 he had opened to the Directory the designs of 
 the Revolutionary party ; that he had been named 
 governor of Paris ; and that the dismissal of all 
 the civil and military authorities was fixed. 
 Lavalette made him acquainted daily with the 
 progress of the intrigue in the capital. The 
 former was sent by him to carry it into execu- 
 tion.j§ He was accordingly transported with 
 
 * D'Abr., in., 324. De Stael, ii., 187. Lac, xiv., 105 
 107. HarJ., iv., 523, 524. Th., ix., 321. 
 
 t D'Abr., ii., 148. 
 
 t See the letters in Bour., i., 234, 263. 
 
 il On the •24th of June, 1797, the majority of the Directo- 
 ry wrote to Napoleon, unknown to Banhelemy and Carnot, 
 "\Ve have received, citizen g-eneral, with extreme satisfac- 
 tion, the marked proofs of devotion to the cause of freedom 
 which you have recently given. You may rely on the most 
 entire reciprocity on our parts. We accept with pleasure 
 the offers you have made to fly to the support of the Repub- 
 lic." On the 22d of July, Lavalette wrote to Napoleon, 
 '• This morning I have seen Barras. He appeared strongly 
 e.Tcited at what has passed. He made no attempt to con- 
 ceal the division in the Directory. ' We shall hold firm,' 
 said he to me ; ' and if we are denounced by the councils, 
 then we shall mount on horseback.' He frequently repeat- 
 ed that, in their present crisis, money would be of incalcula- 
 ble importance. I made to him your proposition, which he 
 accepted with transport." Barras, on his part, on the 23d 
 of July, wrote to Napoleon, " No delay. Consider well 
 that It 13 by the aid of money alone that I can 'accomplish 
 your generous intentions." Lavalette wrote on the same 
 day to Napoleon, " Your proposition has been brought on 
 the tapis between Barras, Rewbell, and Lareveillere. All 
 are agreed that without money we cannot surmount the cri- 
 sis. They confidently hope that you will send large sums." 
 
 joy when he received intelligence of the success 
 of the enterprise. But these leelings were speed- 
 ily changed into discontent at the accounts of 
 the use which the government made of their vic- 
 tory. He easily perceived that the excessive 
 severity which they employed, and the indul- 
 gence of private spleen which appeared in the 
 choice of their victims, would alienate public 
 opinion, and run an imminent risk of bringing 
 back the odious Jacobin rule. He has express- 
 ed in his Memoirs the strongest opinion on this 
 subject. " It might have been right," says he, 
 " to deprive Carnot, Bartheleiny, and the fiifty 
 deputies of their appointment, and put them un- 
 der surveillance in some cities in the interior; 
 Pichegru, Willot, Imbert, Colonne, and one or 
 two others, might justly have expia- p , 
 ted their treason on the scaffold; but gusted^with ' 
 to see men of great talent, such as the severe use 
 Portalis, Troncon Ducondray, Fon- 'hey make of 
 tanes ; tried patriots, such as Boissy ''""'' ^"=""T- , 
 d'Anglas, Dumolard, Murinais; supreme ma- 
 gistrates, such as Carnot and Barthelemy, con- 
 demned, without either trial or accusation, to 
 perish in the marshes of Sinimari, was frightful. 
 What ! to punish with transportation a number 
 of writers of pamphlets, who deserved only con- 
 
 On the 28th of July Lavalette again wrote to him, " The 
 minority of the Directory still cling to hopes of an accom- 
 modation ; the majority will perish rather than make any- 
 farther concessions. It sees clearly the abyss which is 
 opening beneath its feet. Such, however, is the fatal des- 
 tiny of Carnot, or the weakness of his character, that he has 
 now become one of the pillars of the monarchical party, as 
 he was of the Jacobins. He wishes to temporize." On the 
 3d of August, " Everything here remains in the same state : 
 great preparations for an attack by the Council of Five 
 Hundred ; corresponding measures of defence by the Direc- 
 tory. Barras says openly, ' I am only waiting for the de- 
 cree of accusation to mount on horseback, and speedily 
 their heads will roll in the gutter.' " On the 16th of Au- 
 gust Lavalette wrote to Napoleon these remarkable words : 
 '• At last I have torn away the veil this morning from the 
 Directory. Only attend to what Barras told me yesterday- 
 evening. The subject was the negotiations in Italy. Car- 
 not pretended that Napoleon was in too advantageous a sit- 
 uation, when he signed the prehininaries, to be obliged to 
 agree to conditions by which he could not abide in the end. 
 Barras defended Bonaparte, and said to Carnot, ' You are 
 nothing but a vile miscreant ; you have sold the Republic, 
 and you wish to murder those who defend it, infamous 
 scoundrel 1' Carnot answered, with an embarrassed air, ' I 
 despise your insinuations, but one day I shall answer them.' " 
 Augereau wrote, on the 12th of August, to Napoleon, 
 " Things remain much in the same state ; the (Jhchians 
 have resumed their vacillating and uncertain policy ; they 
 do not count so much as heretofore on Carnot, and openly 
 complain of the weakness of Pichegru. The agitation of 
 these gentlemen is e.xtreme ; for my part, I observe them, 
 and keep incessantly stimulating the Directory, for the deci- 
 sive moment has evidently arrived, and they see that as well. 
 I do. Nothing is more certain than that, if the public mind 
 is not essentially changed before the approaching elections, 
 everything is lost, and a civil war remains as our last re- 
 source." On the 31st of August Lavalette informed him, 
 " At length the movement, so long expected, is about to 
 take place. To-morrow night the Directory will arrest fif- 
 teen or twenty deputies ; I presume there will be no resist- 
 ance." And on the 3d of September Augereau wrote to 
 him, "At last, general, my mission is accomplished! the 
 promises of the army of Italy have been kept last night. 
 The Directory was at length induced to act with vigour. 
 At midnight I put all the troops in motion ; before day- 
 break all the bridges and principal points in the city were 
 occupied, the legislature surrounded, and the members, 
 whose names are enclosed, arrested and sent to the Temple. 
 Carnot has disappeared. Pans regards the crisis only as a 
 fete ; the robust, patriotic workmen of the faubourgs loud- 
 ly proclaim the salvation of the Republic." Finally, oa 
 the 23d of September, 1797, Napoleon wrote, in the follow- 
 ing terms, to Augereau : " The whole army applauds the 
 wisdom and energy which you have displayed in this crisis, 
 and has rejoiced sincerely at the success of the patriots. It 
 is only to be hoped now that moderation and wisdom will 
 guide your steps ; that is the most ardent wish of my heart." 
 — BouRRiENNE, i., 235, 250, 266, and Hard., iv., 508, 518. 
 
496 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXIV. 
 
 tempt and a trifling correction, was to renew the 
 proscriptions of the Roman triumvirs ; it was to 
 act more cruelly than Fouquier Tinville, since 
 he at least put the accused on their trial, and 
 condemned tliem only to death. All the armies, 
 all the people, were for a republic ; state neces- 
 sity could not be alleged in favour of so revolting 
 an injustice, so flagrant a violation of the laws 
 and the rights of the citizens."* 
 
 Independently of the instability of any govern- 
 ment which succeeds to so stormy a period as 
 that of the Revolution, the constitution of France 
 -under the Directory contained an inherent defect, 
 ■which must sooner or later have occasioned its 
 ifall. This was ably pointed out from its very 
 commencement by Neckar,t and consisted in the 
 complete separation of the executive from the 
 legislative power. In constitutional monar- 
 chies, when a difference of opinion on any vital 
 subject arises between the executive and the 
 legislature, the obvious mode of arranging it is 
 by a dissolution of the latter, and a new appeal 
 to the people ; and whichever party the electors 
 incline to becomes victorious in the strife. But 
 the French councils, being altogether independ- 
 ent of the Director^', and undergoing a change 
 every two years of a third of their members, be- 
 came shortly at variance with the executive; 
 and the latter, being composed of ambitious men, 
 unwilling to resign the power they had acquired, 
 had no alternative but to invoke military vio- 
 lence for its support. This is a matter of vital 
 importance, and lying at the very foundation of 
 a mixed government : unless the executive pos- 
 sesses the power of dissolving, by legal means, 
 the legislature, the time must inevitably come 
 when it will disperse them by force. This is, 
 in an especial manner, to be looked for when a 
 nation is emerging from revolutionarj' con\ail- 
 sions ; as so many individuals are there impli- 
 cated by their crimes in supporting the revolu- 
 tionary rdgime, and a return to moderate or legal 
 measures is so much dreaded, from the retribu- 
 tion which they may occasion to past delin- 
 quents. 
 
 Though France suflered extremely from the 
 usurpation which overthrew its electoral gov- 
 ernment, and substituted the empire of force for 
 the chimeras of Democracy, there seems no rea- 
 son to believe that a more just or equitable gov- 
 ernment could at that period have been substi- 
 tuted in its room. The party of the councils, 
 though formidable from its union and its abili- 
 ties, was composed of such heterogeneous ma- 
 terials, that it could not by possibility have held 
 together if the external danger of the Directory 
 had been removed. Pichegru, Imbert, Brottier, 
 and others, were in constant correspondence with 
 the exiled princes, and aimed at the restoration 
 of a constitutional throne.: Camot, Rovere, 
 Bourdon de L'Oise, and the majority of the Club 
 of Clichy, were sincerely attached to Republican 
 institutions. Dissension was inevitable between 
 parties of such opposite principles, when they 
 had once prevailed over their immediate ene- 
 mies. The nation was not then in the state to 
 settle down under a constitutional monarchy; it 
 required to be drained of its fiery spirits by bloody 
 wars, and humbled in its pride by national dis- 
 aster, before it could submit to the coercion of 
 
 * Nap., iv., 233, 23i. Bour., i., 235. 
 t Neckar. Histoire de la Revolution, iv., 232. Mad. de 
 Stael, ii., 170, 173. t See Bour., i., Append. 
 
 passion, and follow the regular occupations es- 
 sential to the duration of real freedom. 
 
 The I8th Fructidor is the true era of the com- 
 mencement of military despotism in . 
 France, and as such, it is singularly trurcom- 
 instructive as to the natural tendency mencement 
 and just puishment of revolutionary of military 
 passions. The subsequent govern- despotism 
 ment of the country was but a succes- '" l'''a°'=«- 
 sion of illegal usurpations on the part of the de- 
 positaries of power, in which the people had no 
 share, and by which their rights were equally in- 
 vaded, until tranquillity was restored by the vig- 
 orous hand of Napoleon.* The French have not 
 the excuse, in the loss even of the name of free- 
 dom to their countr}', that they yielded to the as- 
 cendency of an extraordinary man, and bent be- 
 neath the car which banded Europe was unable 
 to arrest. They were subjected to tyranny in it.s 
 worst and most degrading form ; they yielded, 
 not to the genius of iS'apoleon, but to the violence 
 of Augereau ; they submitted in silence to pro- 
 scriptions as odious and arbitrary' as those of the 
 Roman triumvirate ; they bowed for years to the 
 despotism of men so ignoble that history has 
 hardly preserved their names. Such is the con- 
 sequence, and the never-failing consequence, of 
 the undue ascendency of Democratic power. 
 
 The French people did not fall under this pen- 
 alty from any peculiar fickleness er inconstancy 
 of their own ; they incurred it in consequence of 
 the general law of Providence, that guilty pas- 
 sion brings upon itself its own punishment. 
 They fell under the edge of the sword, from the 
 same cause which subjected Rome to the arms 
 of Caesar, and England to those of Cromwell. 
 " Legal government," says the Republican his- 
 torian, " is a chimera, at the conclusion of a rev- 
 olution such as that of France. It is not under 
 shelter of legal authority that parties whose pas- 
 sions have been so violently excited can arrange 
 themselves and repose ; a more vigorous power 
 is required to restrain them, to fuse their still 
 burning elements, and protect them against for- 
 eign violence. That power is the empire of the 
 sword, "t 
 
 'A long and terrible retribution awaited the sins 
 of this great and guilty country. Its owTi pas- 
 sions were made the ministers of the justice of 
 Heaven ; its own desires the means of bringing 
 upon itself a righteous pimishment. Contem- 
 poraneous with the military despotism establish- 
 ed by the victory of Augereau, sprang up the for- 
 eign conquests of Napoleon : his triumphant car 
 rolled over the world, crushing generations be- 
 neath its wheels ; ploughing, like the chariot of 
 Juggernaut, through human flesh ; exhausting, 
 in the pursuit of glor}', the energies of Republi- 
 can ambition. France was decimated for its, 
 cruelty; the snows of Russia, and the hospitals 
 of Germany, became the winding-sheet and the 
 grave of its' bloodstained Revolution. Infidelity 
 may discern in this terriJic progress the march 
 of fatalism and the inevitable course of human 
 affairs: let us discover in it the government of 
 an overruling Providence, punishing the sins of 
 a guilty age, extending to nations with severe, 
 but merciful hand, the consequences of their 
 transgression, and preparing, in the chastisement 
 of present iniquity, the future amelioration of the 
 species. • 
 
 * Mad. de StaSl, ii., 221. 
 t Th., ix., 308. 
 
 Nap., IT., 235. 
 
1T97,1 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 497 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Great Political and Commercial Importance of Egypt. — Its 
 Advantages of Situation, and Importance early perceived 
 by Leibiiitz. — Alexander the Great and Napoleon equally 
 apiireciatjd its Value. — His Ideas are matured at Passe- 
 riano. — Napoleon's Parting Address to the Italians. — His 
 triumphant Journey across Switzerland to Rastadt and 
 Paris. — Political Objects of this Journey. — Its ominous 
 Character fur Switzerland. — His retired Manner of Life at 
 Paris. — His Public Reception by the Directory. — Talley- 
 rand's Speech. — Napoleon's Answer. — Successive Fetes 
 given by other Public Bodies. — His Private Views in re- 
 gard to his Future Life. — Secret Views of the Directory. 
 — TUeir Desire to get quit of Napoleon. — Preparations for 
 a Descent on England. — Pompous Speech of Barras on 
 giving him the Command of the Army destined for its In- 
 vasion. — Real Views of both Parties. — Napoleon's grow- 
 ing Horror at the Revolutionary System. — IIis Journey to 
 the Coasts of the Channel. — Reasons which determined 
 him against the English Expedition. — Defensive Prepar- 
 ations of the British Government. — Meanwhile Napoleon 
 persuades the Directory to undertake the Egyptian Enter- 
 prise.— Ills Prodigious Activity in preparing for that Ex- 
 pedition. — The Treasure taken at Berne is sent to Toulon 
 by liis Orders. — Magnificent Preparations for the Expe- 
 dition. — Napoleon is dnven to it by Necessity.— He takes 
 the Command. — His first Proclamation to his Soldiers. — 
 His last Act in Europe is one of Humanity. — At length 
 the Expedition sails. — Arrives off Malta, which Capitu- 
 lates without firing a Shot. — Its prodigious Strength. — 
 Napoleon's Conversation during the Remainder of the 
 Voyage. — Movements of Nelson, who misses the French 
 Fleet. — Egypt is Discovered. — Napoleon lands, and ad- 
 vances against Alexandria, which is taken. — His first Proc- 
 lamation to his Troops. — Description of Egypt. — Aston- 
 ishing Effects of the Inundation of the Nile. — Productions 
 of the Country. — Its Foreign Commerce. — Decay of its 
 Population since Ancient Times. — Importance of Alexan- 
 dria. — Account of the Inhabitants of the Country. — Mam- 
 elukes. — Janizaries, or Turks. — Arabs, Copts. — Ibrahim 
 Bey and Moiirad Bey divided the Country between them. 
 — Policy of Napoleon on invading Egypt. — His Proclama- 
 tion to the Egyptians. — His Arrangements for advancing to 
 Cairo. — March of the Advanced Guard across the Desert. 
 — Their Sufferings. — Arrive on the Nile. — Actions with 
 the Mamelukes. — Combat at Chebreiss. — The Army ad- 
 vances towards Cairo. — They arrive within Sight of the 
 Mameluke Forces. — Battle of the Pyramids. — Lateral 
 Movement of Napoleon. — Furious Charge of Mourad Bey. 
 — He IS totally defeated. — Ibrahim Bey retires to Syria, 
 Mourad Bey to Upper Egypt. — Napoleon enters Cairo. — 
 His Pacific Measures, and able and Impartial Civil Gov- 
 ■emment. — He affects the Mussulman Faith. — Growing 
 Discontents of the Army. — Calamitous Expedition to Sala- 
 liieh, on the Syrian Frontier — Ibrahim Bey retires across 
 the Desert into Syria. — Intrigues of Napoleon with Ali 
 Pacha. — Treachery of France towards Turkey. — Its Man- 
 ifesto of War. — Naval Operations. — Movements of Nel- 
 son. — He arrives at Alexandria. — Brueys' Position. — Nel- 
 son's Plan of Attack. — Relative Forces on the two Sides. 
 — Battle of the Nile. — Dreadful Nature of the Action. — 
 The L'0?ient blows up. — Glorious Victory in which it 
 terminates. — Wound of Nelson. — Heroic Deeds on Board 
 the French Squadron. — Great Results of this Victory. — 
 Terrible Traces of the Action on Shore. — Honours bestow- 
 ed on Nelson. — Napoleon's Correspondence with Brueys 
 as to getting the Fleet into Alexandria. — Disastrous Con- 
 sequences of this Blow to the French Army. — Courage of 
 Napoleon and Kleber. — Despair of the inferior Officers and 
 Soldiers. — It at once brings on a War between France and 
 Turkey. — Passage of the Hellespont by the Russian Fleet. 
 — Critical Situation of the French Armv. — Vast Efforts 
 of Napoleon.— Expedition of Desaix to 'Upper Egypt.- 
 Bloody Suppression of a Revolt at Cairo. — Expedition of 
 Napoleon to the Shores of the Red Sea.— He resolves 
 to penetrate into Syna.— His vast Designs. — Limited 
 Extent of his Forres. — Passaue of the Syrian Desert. 
 
 — Storming of Jaffa. — Four Thousand of the Garrison 
 ■capitulate. — Massacre of these Prisoners. — Unpardon- 
 able Atrocity of this Act.— The French advance to Acre. 
 
 — Description of that Fortress. — Sir Sidney Smith's 
 Preparations for its Defence. — Commencement of the 
 Siege.— Desperate Conflicts on the Breach. — The Olto- 
 cnans collect Forces for its Relief —The French aUvancB 
 
 I to meet them.— Battle of Mount Thafcor. — Renewal of the 
 Siege of Acre. — Desperate Assaults on the Town. — Napo- 
 leon at length retreats.— Vast Designs which this Defeat 
 frustrated. — Disastrous Retreat of the Troops to Egypt. 
 —Poisoning of the Siok at Jaffa.— Reflections on that Act. 
 —Array regains Egypt.— Contests in Egypt during Napo- 
 leon's Absence.— The Angel El Mody.— Conquest of Up- 
 per Egypt by Desaix. — Great Discontents of the Army.— 
 Landing of the Turks in Aboukir Bay.— Force of the In- 
 vaders. — Position which the Turks occupied. — Napoleon's 
 Disposition for an Attack.— First Line carried.— Second 
 Line also forced, after a desperate Struggle. — Total De- 
 struction of the Turks. — Napoleon is made acquainted 
 with the Disasters of the Republic in Europe. — He secret- 
 ly sets sail for Europe from Alexandria, and stretches 
 along the Coast of Africa to Sardinia.— He lands at Ajac- 
 cio m Corsica. — Sets sail, and avoids the English Fleet. — 
 Proof which the Egyptian Expedition affords of the Su- 
 periority of the Arms of Civilization to those of Savage 
 Life. — General Reflections on the probable Fate of aa 
 Eastern Empire under Napoleon. 
 
 " By seizing the isthmus of Darien," said Sir 
 Walter Raleigh. " you will wrest the keys of the 
 world from Spain"" The observation, worthy 
 of his reach of thought, is still more applicable 
 to the isthmus of Suez and the country of Egypt. 
 It is remarkable that its importance has never 
 been duly appreciated but by the greatest con- 
 querors of ancient and modern times, Alexander 
 the Great and Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 The geographical position of this celebrated 
 countr}' has destined it to be the q^^^^ pgy^^^_ 
 great emporium of the commerce of cal and com- 
 the world. Placed in the centre be- merciaiimpor- 
 tween Europe and Asia, on the con- tance of Egypt 
 fines of Eastern wealth and western civilization ; 
 at the extremity of the African continent, and on 
 the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, it is fitted 
 to become the central point of communication 
 for the varied productions of these difi'erent re- 
 gions of the globe. The waters of the Mediter- 
 ranean bring to it all the fabrics of Europe ; the 
 Pied Sea wafts to its shores the riches of India 
 and China; while the Nile floats down to its 
 bosom the produce of the vast and unknown re- 
 gions of Africa. Though it were not one of the 
 most fertile countries in the world — though the 
 inundations of the Nile did not annually cover 
 its fields with riches, it would still be, from its 
 situation, one of the most favoured spots on the 
 earth. The greatest and most durable monu- 
 ments of human industry', accordingly, the ear- 
 liest efforts of civilization, the sublimest works 
 of genius, have been raised in this primeval seat 
 of mankind. The temples of Rome have de- 
 cayed, the arts of Athens have perished, but 
 the Pyramids " still stand erect and unshaken 
 above the floods of the Nile."* When, in the 
 revolution of ages, civilization shall . , 
 
 , 1 .^ • .. ji Itsadvantages 
 
 have returned to its ancient cradle — of situation, 
 when the desolation of Mohammed- 
 an rule shall have ceased, and the light of reli- 
 gion illumined the land of its birth, Egypt will 
 again become one of the great centres of human. 
 industry ; the invention of steam will restore the 
 communication with the East to its original 
 channel; and the nation which shall revive the 
 Canal of Suez, and open a direct communication 
 between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, 
 
 * Gibbon. 
 
498 
 
 illSTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 will pour into its bosom those streams of wealth, 
 which in every age have constituted the princi- 
 pal sources of European opulence. 
 
 The great Leibnitz, in the time of Louis XIV., 
 Its importance addressed to the French monarch a 
 early perceiv- memorial, which is one ot the no- 
 ed by Leibnitz, bjest monuments of political fore- 
 sight. " Sire," said he, " it is not at home that 
 you will succeed in subduing the Dutch: you 
 will not cross their dikes, and you will rouse 
 Europe to their assistance. It is in Egypt that 
 the real blow is to be strack. There yon will 
 find the true commercial route to India ; you will 
 wrest that lucrative commerce from Holland, 
 you will secure the eternal dominion of France 
 in the Levant, you will fill Christianity with 
 joy."* These ideas, however, were beyond the 
 age, and they lay dormant till revived by the ge- 
 nius of Napoleon. 
 
 The eagle eye of Alexander the Great, which 
 ,, . ,-. fitted him to have been as great a 
 
 Alexander the , ^ , , ^ r. 
 
 Great and Na- benefactor as he was a scourge oi 
 poleon equally the species, early discerned the vast 
 appreciated its capabilities of this country; and to 
 ^^"®' him was owing the foundation of 
 
 that city, the rival of Memphis and Thebes, 
 which once boasted of three millions of inhabi- 
 tants, and rivalled Rome in the plenitude of its 
 power, and still bears, amid ruins and decay, the 
 name of the conqueror of the East. Napoleon 
 was hardly launched into the career of conquest 
 before he perceived the importance of the same 
 situation ; and when still struggling in the plains 
 of Italy with the armies of Austria, he was med- 
 itating an expedition into those Eastern regions, 
 where alone, in his apprehension, great things 
 could be achieved ; where kingdoms lay open to 
 private adventure; and fame, rivalling that of 
 the heroes of antiquity, was to be obtained. 
 From his earliest years he had been influenced 
 by an ardent desire to effect a revolution in the 
 East : he was literally haunted by the idea of the 
 glory which had been there acquired, and firmly 
 convinced that the power of England could never 
 be effectually humbled but by a blow at its Indian 
 possessions. "The Persians," said he, "have 
 lilocked up the route of Tamerlane ; I will dis- 
 cover another. "t 
 
 It was his favourite opinion through life that 
 Egypt was the true line of communication with 
 India ; that it was there that the English power 
 could alone be seriously affected; that its pos- 
 session would ensure the dominion of the Med- 
 iterranean, and convert that sea into a " French 
 Lake." From that central point armaments 
 might be detached down the Red Sea, to attack 
 the British possessions in India ; and an entrepot 
 established, which would soon turn the com- 
 merce of the East into the channels which Na- 
 ture had formed for its reception — the Mediter- 
 ranean and the Red Sea.t 
 
 It was at Passeriano, however, after the cam- 
 His ideas are P^igu was concluded, and when his 
 matured at energetic mind turned abroad for the 
 Passeriano. theatre of fresh exploits, that the con- 
 ception of an expedition to Egypt first seriously 
 occupied his thoughts. During his long evening 
 walks in the magnificent park of his mansion, 
 he spoke w-ithout intermission of the celebrity 
 of those countries, and the illustrious empires 
 which have there disappeared, after overturning 
 each other, but the memory of which still lives 
 
 * Th., ix.,63. 
 t Th., ix., 62. 
 
 t D'Abr., ir,, 263. Bour., ii., 411. 
 
 in the recollections of mankind. " Europe," 
 said he, "is no field lor glorious exploits: no 
 great empires or revolutions are to be lound but 
 in the East, where there are six hundred millions 
 of men." Egypt at once presented itself to hi? 
 imagination as the point where a decisive im- 
 pression was to be made ; the weak point of the 
 line, where a breach could be efi'ected, and a per- 
 manent lodgment secured, and a path opened to 
 those Eastern regions, where the British power 
 was to be destroyed and immortal renown ac- 
 quired. So completely had this idea taken pos- 
 session of his mind, that all the books- brought 
 from the Ambrosian library to Paris, after the 
 peace of Campo Foimio, which related to Egypt, 
 were submitted for his examination, and many 
 bore extensive marginal notes in his own hand- 
 writing, indicating the powerful grasp and inde- 
 fatigable activity of his mind ;* and in his cor- 
 respondence with the Director}', he had already, 
 more than once, suggested both the importance 
 of an expedition to the banks of the Nile, and 
 the amount of force requisite to ensure its suc- 
 cess. t 
 
 Before leaving Italy, after the treaty of Campo 
 Formio, he put the last hand to the affairs of the 
 Cisalpine Republic. Venice was delivered over, 
 amid the tears of all its patriotic citizens, to 
 Austria ; the French auxiliary force in the new 
 republic was fixed at thirty thousand men, under 
 the orders of Berthier, to be maintained at the 
 expense of the allied state ; and all the Republi- 
 can organization of a directory, legislative as- 
 semblies, national guards, and troops of the line, 
 put in full activity. "You are the Napoleon's 
 first people in historj'," said he, in parting ad- 
 his parting address to them, "who dre.sstothe 
 have become free without factions, "alias's- 
 without revolutions, without convulsions. We 
 have given you freedom : it is your part to pre- 
 serve it. You are, after France, the richest, the 
 most populous republic in the world. Your po- 
 sition calls you to take a leading part in the pol- 
 itics of Europe. To be worthy of your destiny, 
 make no laws but what are wise and moderate, 
 but execute them with force and energ}'."^ The 
 wealth and population of the beautiful provin- 
 ces which compose this Republic, embracing 
 3,500,000 souls, the fortress of Mantua, and the 
 plains of Lombardy, indeed formed the elements 
 of a powerful state ; but had Napoleon looked 
 into the book of history or considered the humaa 
 mind, he would have perceived that, of all hu- 
 man blessings, liberty is the one which is of the- 
 slowest growth; that it must be won, and cannot 
 be conferred; and that the institutions which are 
 suddenly transferred from one country Jp anoth- 
 er, perish as rapidly as the full grown "tree, which 
 is transplanted from the soil of its birth to a dis- 
 tant land. 
 
 Napoleon's journey from Italy to Paris was 
 a continual triumph. The Italians, -^-^ triumphal 
 whose national spirit had been in journey across 
 some degree revived bv his victories, Switzerland 
 beheld with regret the disappear- toRastadtand 
 ance of that brilliant apparition. ^^'^' 
 Everj'thing he did and said was calculated to 
 increase the public enthusiasm. At Mantua, 
 he combined with a fete in honour of Virgil a 
 military procession on the death of General 
 Hoche, who had recently died, after a short ill- 
 
 * James's Naval History, ii., 216. Bour., ii., 44. 
 
 t ( iorres. Conf. de Nap., iv., 176. Vide ante, p. 475. 
 
 ; Nfp., iv., 271. 
 
1797.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 499 
 
 ness, in France ; and about the same time form- 
 ed that friendsliip with Desaix, who had come 
 from the army of the Rhine to visit that of Italy, 
 which mutual esteem was so well calculated to 
 inspire, but which was destined to terminate 
 prematurely on the field of Marengo. The 
 p .. . towns of Switzerland received him 
 
 jects of this" ^ith transport ; triumphal arches 
 journey. Its and garlands of flowers everywhere 
 ominous char- awaited his approach ; he passed the 
 acterforSwit- fQj-tresses amid discharges of can- 
 ^"^ ^ ■ non, and crowds from the neigh- 
 
 bouring countries lined the road to get a glimpse 
 of the hero who had filled the world with his 
 renown.* His progress, however, was rapid: 
 he lingered on the field of Moral to examine the 
 J, 5 1-07 ^^^^^ of ^^^ terrible defeat of the 
 *''■'' ■ Burgundian chivalry by the Swiss 
 peasantry. Passing Bale, he arrived at Rastadt, 
 where the congress was established ; but, fore- 
 seeing nothing worthy of his genius in the mi- 
 nute matters of diplomacy which were there the 
 subject of discussion, he proceeded to Paris, 
 where the public anxiety had arisen to the high- 
 est pitch for his return. t 
 
 The successive arrival of Napoleon's lieuten- 
 ants at Paris with the standards taken from the 
 enemy in his memorable campaigns, the vast 
 conquests he had achieved, the brief but eloquent 
 language of his proclamations, and the immense 
 benefits which had accrued to the Republic from 
 his triumphs, had raised to the very highest 
 pitch the enthusiasm of the people. The public 
 anxiety, accordingly, to see him was indescriba- 
 ble ; but he knew enough of mankind to feel the 
 His retired importance of enhancing the general 
 manner of hfe wish by avoiding its gratification. 
 at Paris. jje lived in his own house in the 
 
 Rue Chantereine, in the most retired manner, 
 went seldom into public, and surrounded him- 
 self only by scientific characters, or generals of 
 cultivated minds. He wore the costume of the 
 Institute, of which he had recently been elected 
 a member; associated constantly with its lead- 
 ing characters, such as Monge, Berthold, La- 
 place, Lagrange, and admitted to his intimate 
 society only Berthier, Desaix, Lefebvre, Caffa- 
 relle, Kleber, and a few of the deputies. On oc- 
 casion of being presented to Talleyrand, minis- 
 ter of foreign affairs, he singled out, amid the 
 splendid cortei^c of public characters by which he 
 was surrounded, M. Bougainville, and conversed 
 with him on the celebrated voyage which he had 
 performed.! Such was the profound nature of 
 his ambition through life, that on every occasion 
 he looked rather to the impression his conduct 
 was to produce on men's minds in future, than 
 the gratification he was to receive from their 
 admiration of the past. He literally "deemed 
 nothing done while anything remained to do."§ 
 Even in the assumption of the dress, and the 
 choice of the society of the Institute, he was 
 guided by motives of ambition, and a profound 
 knowledge of the human heart. "Mankind," 
 said he, " are in the end governed always by su- 
 periority of intellectual qualities, and none are 
 more sensible of this than the military profes- 
 
 * His words, though few, were all such as were calculated 
 to produce revolution. At Geneva he boasted that he would 
 democratize England in three months ; and that there were, 
 in truth, but two republics in Switzerland — Geneva, with- 
 out laws or government ; Bale, converted into the workshop 
 of revolution. — Hard., v., 303. 
 
 + Bour., ii., 5, 9. Th., ix.. 363. Nap., ii,, 268. Hard., 
 v., 57, 58. t Th., ix., 363, 364. Nap., iv., 280, 283. 
 
 ^ Tacitus, 
 
 sion. When, on my return from Italy, I assumed 
 the dress of the Institute, I knew what I was 
 doing. I was sure of not being misunderstood 
 by the lowest drummer of the army."* 
 
 Shortly after his arrival he was received ia 
 state by the Directory, in their now His reception 
 magnificent court of the Luxem- in state by the 
 bourg. The public anxiety was directory, 
 wound up to the highest pitch for this imposing 
 ceremony, on which occasion Joubert was to 
 present the standard of the army of Italy, in- 
 scribed with all the great actions it had perform- 
 ed, and the youthful conqueror himself was to 
 lay at the feet of government the treaty of Campo 
 Formio. Vast galleries were prepared for the 
 accommodation of the public, which were early- 
 filled with all that was distinguished in rank, 
 character, and beauty in Paris. He made his 
 entrj', accompanied by M. Talleyrand, who was 
 to present him to the Directory as the bearer of 
 the treaty. The aspect of the hero, his thin but 
 graceful figure, the Roman cast of his features, 
 and fire of his eye, excited universal admiration; 
 the court rang with applause. Talleyrand intro- 
 duced him in an eloquent speech, in which, after 
 extolling his great actions, he concluded: " For 
 a moment I did feel on Ms account 
 that disquietude which, in an in- J'f^J^^'^^^'^ 
 fant republic, arises from everything ^^^'^ 
 which seems to destroy the equality of the citi- 
 zens. But I was wrong; individual grandeur, 
 far from being dangerous to equality, is its high- 
 est triumph ; and on this occasion, every French- 
 man must feel himself elevated by the hero of 
 his country. And when I reflect on all that he 
 has done to shroud from envy that light of glory ; 
 on that ancient love of simplicity which dis- 
 tinguishes him in his favourite studies ; his love 
 for the abstract sciences ; on his admiration for 
 that sublime Ossian which seems to detach hira 
 from the world ; on his well-known contempt for 
 luxury, for pomp, for all that constitutes the pride 
 of ignoble minds, I am convinced that, far from 
 dreading his ambition, we shall one day have 
 occasion to rouse it anew to allure him from the 
 sweets of studious retirement : France will never 
 lose its freedom ; but perhaps he will not forever 
 preserve his own."t 
 
 Napoleon replied in these words : " The French 
 people, to attain their freedom, had ^ , 
 
 kings to combat; to secure a Consti- answel°^^ 
 tution founded on reason, they had ' . 
 
 eighteen hundred years of prejudices to over- 
 come. Religion, feudality, despotism, have, in 
 their turns, governed Europe ; but from the peace 
 now concluded dates the era of representative 
 governments. You have succeeded in organ- 
 izing the great nation, whose territory is not cir- 
 cumscribed but because Nature herself has im- 
 posed it limits. I lay at your feet the treaty of 
 Campo Formio, ratified by the emperor.t As 
 soon as the happiness of France is secured by 
 the best orgayiic laws, the whole of Europe will 
 be free." The Directory, by the voice of Barras, 
 returned an inflated repl)'^, in which they invited 
 him to strive for the acquisition of fresh laurels, 
 and pointed to the shores of Great Britain as the 
 place where they were to be gathered.§ 
 
 * Thibaudeau Consulat, 78. t Bour., ii., 24. 
 
 t ffapoleon had added these words in this place : " That 
 peace secures the liberty, the prosperity, and glory of the 
 Republic ;" but these words were struck out by order of 
 the Director}- : a sufficient proof of their disapproval of his 
 conduct in signing it, and one of the many inducements 
 which led him to turn his face to the East. — See H.4RB., 
 v., 74. >) Th., ii,, 368. Nap., iv., 283, 284. 
 
500 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 On this occasion, General Joubert, and the 
 o chief of the staff, Andreossi, bore the 
 
 0UCCCSSIV6 
 
 iius givea magnificent standard which the Direc- 
 by other tory had given to the army of Italy, and 
 public bod- which contained an enumeration of 
 '''^" triumphs so wonderful that it would 
 
 have passed for fabulous in any other age.* It 
 was sufficient to intoxicate all the youth of 
 France with the passion for military glory. This 
 JtU was followed by others, given by the legis- 
 lative body and the minister of foreign affairs. 
 JNapoleon appeared at all these, but they were 
 foreign to his disposition, and he retired, as soon 
 as politeness would permit, to his own house. 
 At that given by Talleyrand, which was distin- 
 guished by the good taste and elegance which 
 prevailed, he was asked by Madame de Stael, 
 in presence of a numerous circle, who was, in 
 his opinion, the greatest woman that ever exist- 
 ed. '• She," he replied, " who has had the great- 
 est number of children ;" an answer very differ- 
 ent from what she anticipated, and singularly 
 characteristic of his opinions on female influ- 
 ence. At the Institute he was to be seen al- 
 ways seated between Lagrange and Laplace, 
 ■wholly occupied, in appearance, with the abstract 
 sciences. To a deputation of that learned body, 
 he returned an answer, " I am highly honoured 
 with the approbation of the distinguished men 
 who compose the Institute. I know well that I 
 must long be their scholar before I become their 
 equal. The true conquests, the only ones which 
 do not cause a tear, are those which are gained 
 over ignorance. The most honourable, as well 
 as the most useful occupation of men, is to con- 
 tribute to the extension of ideas. The true pow- 
 er of the French Republic should henceforth 
 consist in this, that not a single new idea should 
 exist which does not owe its birth to their exer- 
 tions." But it was only for the approbation of 
 these illustrious men that he appeared solicit- 
 ous ; he was never seen in the streets ; went only 
 to a concealed box in the Opera ;t and when he 
 assumed the reins of power, after his return 
 from Eg\'pt, his appearance was still unknown 
 to the greater part of the inhabitants of Paris. 
 
 But Napoleon's was not a disposition to re- 
 .^'apoleon's pri- ^ain Satisfied with past glory : the 
 vate views in future — yet higher achievements 
 regard to his fu- filled his mind. He knew well the 
 ture life. ephemeral nature of popular ap- 
 
 plause, and how necessary mystery, or a succes- 
 sion of great actions is, to prolong its transports. 
 " They do not long preserve at Paris," said he 
 to his' intimate friends, "the remembrance of 
 
 * it bore these words : •' The army of Italy has made 
 150,000 prisoners ; it has taken 170 standards, 500 pieces of 
 heavy artillery, 600 field-pieces, 5 pontoon trams, 9 ships of 
 the line, 12 frigates, 12 corvettes, 18 galleys. Armistice 
 •with the kings of Sardinia, Naples, the dukes of Parma, Mo- 
 dena, and tiie pope. Preliminaries of Leohen ; Convention 
 of Montebello with Genoa. Treaty of Tulentino. Treaty 
 ofCampo Formio. It has given freedom to the people of Bo- 
 logna, Ferrara, Modena, Massa-Carrara, Romagna, Lombar- 
 <3y, Brescia, Bergamo, Mantua, Creimma, a part of the Ve- 
 ronese, Chiavenna, Bormio, and the Valteline ; to the peo- 
 jile of Genoa the imperial fiefs Corcyra and Ithaca. Sent 
 10 Paris the chefs- d'auvre of Michael Augelo, Guercino, Ti- 
 tian, Paul Veronese, Coneggio, Albano, the Caraccis, Ra- 
 phael. Lecmardo da Vinci, &c. Triumphed in 18 j-itched 
 battles : Montenotte, Millessimo, Mondovi, Lodi, Borghetta, 
 Lonato, Castiglione, Roveredo, Bassano. St. George's, Fon- 
 tana Viva, ('aldiero. Areola, Rivoli, La Favorite, the Tagli- 
 amenti). Tarwis. Newinarkt ; and then followed the names 
 of 67 combats, or lesser engagements."* The legions of 
 CiEsar had not, in so short a time, so splendid a roU of 
 achievements to exhibit. 
 
 t Nap., iv.. 285, 28fi. Savary, !.. 32. Boar., ii., 33. 
 ' * Tb., ix., 369. 
 
 anything. If I remain long unemployed, I am 
 undone. The renown of one in this great Bab- 
 ylon speedily supplants that of another. If I am 
 seen three times at the Opera, I will no longer be 
 an object of curiosity. You need not talk of the 
 desire of the citizens to see me : crowds at least 
 as great would go to see me led out to the scaf- 
 fold." He made an effort to obtain a dispensa- 
 tion with the law which required the age of forty 
 for one of the Directory ; but, failing in that at- 
 tempt, his whole thoughts and passions centred 
 in the East, the original theatre of his visions of 
 glory. " Bourrienne," said he, " I am deter- 
 mined not to remain in Paris ; there is nothing 
 here to be done. It is impossible to fix the at- 
 tention of the people. If I remain longer inac- 
 tive, I am undone. Everything here passes away ; 
 my glory is alreadj^ declining; this little corner 
 of Europe is too small to supply it. We must 
 go to the East ; all the great men of the world 
 have there acquired their celebrity. Neverthe- 
 less, I am willing to make a tour to the coasts 
 with yoursell', Lannes, and Solkowsky. Should 
 the expedition to Britain prove, as I much fear 
 it will, too hazardous, the army of England will 
 become the army of the East, and we will go to 
 Egypt." These words give a just idea of the 
 character of Napoleon. Glory was his ruling 
 passion ; nothing appeared impossible where it 
 was to be won. The great names of Alexander, 
 Cce.sar, and Hannibal haunted his imagination; 
 disregarding the lapse of two thousand years, 
 he fixed his rivaliy on those classical heroes, 
 whose exploits have shed so imperishable a lus- 
 tre over the annals of antiquity. While thus 
 sustaining his reputation, and inscribing his 
 name on the eternal monuments of Egyptian 
 grandeur, he hoped to be still within reach of the 
 march of events in Europe, and ready to assume 
 that despotic command which he already fore- 
 saw would be soon called for by the incapacity 
 of the Directory and the never-ending distrac- 
 tions of Democratic institutions.* 
 
 In truth, the Directory, secretly alarmed at the 
 reputationof the Conqueror of Italy, secret views 
 eagerly sought, under the splendid oftheDirec- 
 colouring of a descent on England, t"ry. Their 
 an opportunity of ridding themselves desire to get 
 of so formidable a rival. An extra- hTon-^Prepar^ 
 ordinary degree of activity prevailed ationsforade- 
 in all the harbours, not only of scent on Eng- 
 France and Holland, but of Spain '''"'^■ 
 and Italy ; the fleets at Cadiz and Toulon weie 
 soon in a condition to put to sea ; that at Brest 
 only awaited, to all appearance, their arrival, to 
 issue forth, and form a preponderating force in 
 the Channel, where the utmost exertions were 
 making to constract and equip flat-bottomed 
 boats for the conveyance of the land-tioops. 
 Means were soon collected in the northern har- 
 bours for the transport of sixty thousand nen. 
 Meanwhile, great part of the armies of the Rhine 
 were brought down to the maritime districts, and 
 lined the shores of France and Holland Irom 
 Brest to the Texel ; nearly one hundred and fifty 
 thousand men were stationed on these coasts, 
 under the name of the Army of England. This 
 immense force might have occasioned gre;.t dis- 
 qaietude to the British government, had it been 
 supported by a powerful na^'y; but the battle of 
 St. Vincent's and Camperdown relieved thetn of 
 all apprehensions of a descent by these ni.mer- 
 ous enemies. It does not appear that the Di- 
 
 •♦ Bour., ii., 32, 35. Lac, lir., 139. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 501 
 
 rectory then entertained any serious thoughts of 
 carrying the invasion into early execution: al- 
 though the troops were encamped in the mari- 
 time departments, no immediate preparation for 
 embarcation had been made. However, their 
 language breathed nothing but menaces : Napo- 
 leon was appointed commander-in-chief of the 
 army of England, and he was despatched on a 
 mission to the coasts to superintend the comple- 
 tion of the armament.* 
 
 " Crown," said Barras, " so illustrious a life 
 Pompous by a conquest which the great na- 
 speechofBar- tion owes to its outraged dignity, 
 "s on giving Qo J jjjj^ by tj^e punishment of the 
 m'^d of the"" cabinet of London, strike terror into 
 army of Eiig- the hearts of all who would miscal- 
 taud. culate the powers of a free people. 
 
 Let the conquerors of the Po, the Rhine, and the 
 Tiber march under your banners ; the ocean will 
 be proud to bear them; it is a slave still indig- 
 nant, who blushes for his fetters. He invokes, 
 in a voice of thunder, the wrath of the earth 
 against the oppressor of the waves. Pompey 
 did not esteem it beneath him to wield the power 
 of Rome against the pirates : go, and chain the 
 monster who presses on the seas; go, and punish 
 in London the injured rights of humanity. Hard- 
 ly will the tricolour standard wave on the blood- 
 stained shores of the Thames, ere a unanimous 
 cry will bless your arrival, and that generous 
 nation, perceiving the dawn of its felicity, will 
 receive you as liberators, who come not to com- 
 bat and enslave, but to put a period to its calam- 
 ities." Under these high-sounding 
 bo^th JarUes" tieclamations, however, all parties 
 concealed veiy different intentions. 
 Immense preparations were made in Italy and 
 the south of France ; the whole naval resources 
 of the Mediterranean were put in requisition ; 
 the diie of the army of Italy moved to Toulon, 
 Genoa, and Civita Vecchia. The Directoiy 
 were more desirous to see Napoleon ingulfed in 
 the sands of Lybia than conquering on the 
 banks of the Thames ; and he dreamed more of 
 the career of Alexander and of Mohammed, than 
 of the descent of Ccesar on the shores of Britain. + 
 
 Independently of his anxiety to engage in 
 Napoleon's ^0'"^ enterprise which might im- 
 growmg hor- mortalize his name. Napoleon was 
 ToroftbfiRev- desirous to detach himself from the 
 olutionary government, from his strong and 
 «ys em. growing aversion for the Jacobin 
 
 party, whom the revolution of the 18th Fructidor 
 had placed at the head of the Republic. Already 
 he had, on more than one occasion, openly ex- 
 pressed his dislike at the violent revolutionary 
 course which the Directory were pursuing, both 
 at home and abroad ;; and in private he gave 
 vent, in the strongest terms, to his horror at that 
 grasping, insatiable Democratic spirit, which, 
 through his subsequent life, he set himself so 
 vigorously to resist. "What," said he, " would 
 these Jacobins havel France is revolutionized, 
 Holland is revolutionized, Italy is revolution- 
 ized, Switzerland is revolutionized, Europe will 
 soon be revolutionized. But this, it seems, will 
 not suffice them, I know well what they want : 
 they want the domination of thirty or forty indi- 
 viduals, founded on the massacre of three or four 
 millions; they Avant the Constitution of 1793, 
 but they shall not have it, and death to him who 
 
 * Bour.. ii., 38. Lac, liv., 138, 139. Nap., ii., 165. 
 >■ t Nap.,ii.,lb4. Ldc, XIV., 138, 139, 140. Nap., iv., 287. 
 Botu-., II., 37. 4 Nap., iv,, 30!. 
 
 would demand it.* For my owm part, I declare, 
 that if I had only the option between royalty and 
 the system of these gentlemen, I would not hesi- 
 tate one moment to declare for a king." 
 
 In the middle of February, Napoleon proceed- 
 ed to the coasts, accompanied by Lannes and 
 Bourrienne. He visited, in less than ten days, 
 Boulogne, Calais, Dunkirk, Antwerp, and Flush- 
 ing, exhibiting everywhere his usual sagacity 
 and rapidity of apprehension ; conversing with, 
 deriving light from, every one possessed of local 
 information, and obtaining in a few weeks what it 
 would have taken others years to acquire. He sat 
 up till midnight at every town, interro- 
 gating the sailors, fishermen, and smug- JSgg ' 
 glers : to their objections he listened 
 with patient attention, to his own difficulties he 
 
 ^S His journey to 
 
 drew their consideration. Durin. 
 
 this brief journey, he acquired an in- the coasts of 
 timate acquaintance with the rela- ^^^ Channel, 
 five importance of these maritime stations ; and 
 to this period is to be assigned the origin of those 
 great conceptions concerning Antwerp, which, 
 under the Empire, he carried with so much vig- 
 our into execution. At length, having acquired 
 all the information which could be obtained, he 
 made up his mind and returned to Paris. " It is 
 too doubtful a chance," said he ; "I will not risk 
 it ; I will not hazard, on such a throw, the fate 
 of France. "t Thenceforward all his energies 
 were turned towards the Egyptian expedition. 
 
 It was not the difficulty of transporting sixty 
 or eighty thousand men to the shores jjgj^g^ ^- ^ 
 of Britain which deterred Napole- determinTd' 
 on; the impossibility of maintain- him against 
 ing a strict blockade of an extensive '^'^ English ex- 
 line of coast, on a tempestuous sea, P*'''"'""- 
 and the chance of getting over unseen in hazy 
 weather, sufficiently demonstrated that such aa 
 attempt, however hazardous, was practicable ; it 
 was the obstacles in the way of maintaining them 
 in the country after they were landed, and sup- 
 porting them by the necessary stores and re-en- 
 forcements, in presence of a superior naval force, 
 which was the decisive consideration. Suppo- 
 sing the troops landed, a battle gained, and Lon- 
 don taken, it was not to be expected that England 
 would submit; and how to maintain the con- 
 quests made, and penetrate into the interior of 
 the country, without continual re -enforcements, 
 and an uninterrupted communication with the 
 Continent, was the insurmountable difficulty.. 
 There appeared no rational prospect at this pe- 
 riod of accumulating a superior naval power iix 
 the Channel, or effecting an open connexion be- 
 tween the invading force and the shores of 
 France ; and this being the case, the Republicaa 
 army, however successful at first, must, to all ap- 
 pearance, have sunk at last under the multiplied 
 efforts of a brave, numerous, and united people.t 
 Thence may be seen the importance of the naval 
 battles of St. Vincent's and Camperdown in the 
 preceding year : the fate of the world hung upoa 
 their event. 
 
 Meanwhile, the British government, aware of 
 the great preparations which were Defensive 
 making at once in so many different preparations 
 quarters, and ignorant where the of the British 
 blow was to fall, made every arrange- government, 
 ment which prudence could suggest to ward off 
 the impending danger. They had little appre- 
 hension as to the issue of a contest on the shores 
 
 * Wolfe Tone, Memoirs, ii., 276. 
 
 t Nap., iv., 287. Bour., ii., 38. Th., x., 15. 
 
 ; Th., X., 13, 14. 
 
502 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXT. 
 
 of Britain ; but Ireland was the vulnerable quar- 
 ter which filled them with di.squietude. The un- 
 ceasing discontents of that country had formed a 
 large party, Avho were in open and ill-disguised 
 communication with the French Directory, and 
 the narrow escape which it had made by the dis- 
 persion of Hoche's squadron in Bantry Bay, 
 proved that the utmost vigilance, and a decided 
 naval superiority, could not always be able to 
 secure its extensive seacoast from hostile inva- 
 sion. In these circumstances, the principal ef- 
 forts of the Admiralty were directed to strengthen 
 the fleet off Brest and the Spanish coasts, from 
 whence the menaced invasion might chiefly be 
 expected to issue; while, at the same time, a 
 small squadron was detached under Nelson, by 
 Admiral St. Vincent, from his squadron off" Ca- 
 diz, which now amounted to eighteen ships of 
 the line, to the Mediterranean, which was after- 
 ward re-enforced, by the junction of eight ships 
 of the line under Adjniral Curtis, to thirteen line- 
 of-battle ships and one of fifty guns. The most 
 active preparations for defence were at the same 
 time made on the whole coasts ; the vigilance of 
 the cruisers in the Channel was redoubled; and 
 the spirit of the nation, rising with the dangers 
 which threatened it, prepared without dismay to 
 meet the conqueror of Europe on the British 
 shores.* 
 
 While all eyes in Europe, however, were turn- 
 ed to the Channel, and the world 
 suadesthe*Dl- ^w^it^d, in anxious suspense, the 
 rectory to un- terrible conflict which seemed to be 
 dertake the approaching between the two powers 
 Egyptian ex- -vv'hose hostility had so long divided 
 pedition. mankind, the' tempest had turned 
 
 away in another direction. After considerable 
 difiiculty. Napoleon succeeded in persuading the 
 Directory to undertake the expedition to Egypt ; 
 in vain they objected that it was to expose forty 
 thousand of the best troops of the Republic to 
 destruction ; that the chance was small of esca- 
 ping the English squadron ; and that Austria 
 would not fail to take advantage of the absence 
 of its best general to regain her lost provinces. 
 The ardent mind of Napoleon obviated every ob- 
 jection ; and at length the government, dazzled 
 by the splendour of the design, and secretly re- 
 joiced at the prospect of ridding themselves of so 
 formidable a rival, agreed to his proposal, and 
 gave him unlimited powers for carrying it into 
 execution.t 
 
 Napoleon instantly applied himself, with ex- 
 
 ■D ^- ■ . „„ traordinary activitv, to forward the 
 Prodigious ac- ,. "^ tt t,-' i/- • . i 
 
 tivityofNapo- expedition. He himsell supenntend- 
 leon in prepa- ed everything; instructions succeed- 
 riiigfortheex- ed each Other with an inconceivable 
 pedition. rapidity; night and day he labour- 
 ed with his secretary, despatching orders in ev- 
 ery direction. The Directory put at his disposal 
 forty thousand of the best troops of the army of 
 Italy; the fleet of Brueys, consisting of thirteen 
 ships of the line and fourteen frigates, was des- 
 tined to convev the greater part of the army, while 
 above 3,O0O,o6o of francs, of the treasure recent- 
 ly before taken at Berne, were granted by the 
 Directory to meet the expenses of the expedi- 
 tion.: It is painful to think that this celebrated 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1798, 132, 139, 140. James's Naval Hist., ii., 
 215. Th., IX.. 73. 
 
 t Th., ix., fi7, 68. Bour., iv., 40, 41, 48. 
 
 t " Napoleon has thus stated the objects which he had in 
 view in the Egyptian expedition. 1. To establish, on the 
 banks of the Nile, a French colony, which could exist with- 
 out slaves, and supply the place of St. Domingo. 2. To open 
 a vent for our manufactures in Africa, Arabia, and Syria, and 
 
 undertaking should have been preceded by so 
 flagrant an act of spoliation,* and that the desire 
 to provide for the charges of the enterprise out of 
 the savings of the Swiss confederacy during more 
 than two hundred years, should have been one 
 motive for the attack on the independence of that 
 inoffensive Republic.t 
 
 From his headquarters at Paris Napoleon di- 
 rected the vast preparations for this Magnificent 
 armament, which were going forward preparations 
 with the utmost activity in all the for the eipe- 
 ports of Italy and the south of France, ^itiou. 
 Four stations were assigned for the assembly of 
 the convoys and the embarcation of the troops — 
 Toulon, Genoa, Ajaccio, and Civita Vecchia ; 
 at the latter harbour, transports were moored 
 alongside of the massy piers of Roman architec- 
 ture, to the bronze rings, still undecayed, which 
 were fixed in their blocks by the Emperor Tra- 
 jcm. A numerous artillery, and three thousand 
 cavalry, were assembled at these different sta- 
 tions, destined to be mounted on the incompara- 
 ble horses of Egypt. The most celebrated gen- 
 erals of the Republic, Desaix and Kleber, as 
 yet strangers to the fortunes of Napoleon, as well 
 as those who had so ably seconded his efforts in 
 Italy, Lannes, Murat, Junot, Regnier, Baraguay 
 d'Hilliers, Vaubois, Bon, Belliard, and Dom- 
 martin, were ranged under his command. Caf- 
 farelli commanded the engineers ; Berthier, who 
 
 obtain for our commerce the productions of these countries. 
 3. To set out from Egypt, as a vast place eCarmes, to push for- 
 ward an army of 60,000 men to the Indus, rouse the Mahrattas 
 to a revolt, and excite against the English the population of 
 these vast countries. Sixty thousand men, half Europeans, 
 half natives, transported on 50,000 camels and 10,000 horaes, 
 canying with them provisions for fifty days, water for six, 
 with 150 pieces of cannon, and double ammunition, would 
 arrive in four months in India. The ocean ceased to be an 
 obstacle when vessels were constructed ; the Desert becomes 
 passable the moment you have camels and dromedaries in 
 abundance." — Nap. in Montholon, ii., 208. 
 
 * Mad. de Stael, II., 209. Bour., li., 41, 42. Th., ii., 52,53. 
 
 t The partisans of Napoleon are indignant at the imputa- 
 tion of his having recommended or concurred The treasure at 
 in the inv.osion of Switzerland, in order to pro- Berne is sent to 
 cure, in the treasure of Berne, funds for the Toulon bj Ni- 
 equipment of his Egyptian expedition; but it Po'^ "n'' ordejs. 
 is certain that, in his journey through Switzerland, he ask- 
 ed an ominous question as to the amount of that ancient 
 store ;* and in his Secret Coirespondence there exists de- 
 cisive evidence that he participated in the shameful act of 
 robber}' which soon afterward followed, and equipped his 
 fleet out of the funds thus obtained. On the 11th of April, 
 1798, he wrote to Lannes, " I have received, citizen general, 
 the letter of your aid-de-camp. Three millions have been 
 despatched, by post, on the 7th of this month, from Berne 
 for Lyons. You will find hereunto subjoined the order 
 from the treasury to its agent at Lyons to forward it forth- 
 with to Toulon. You will, for this purpose, cause it to be 
 embarked on the Rhone ; you will accompany it to Avignon ; 
 and from thence convey it, by post, to Toulon. Do not fail 
 to inform me of what different pieces the three millions con- 
 sist." On the the 17th of April he again writes to Lannes, 
 " From the information I have received from Berne, the 
 three millions should arrive, at the very latest, on the 19th 
 at Lyons. Fonvard them instantly on their arrival ; do not 
 go to bed till this is done ; get ready, in the mean time, the 
 boats for their reception ; despatch a courier to me the in- 
 stant they are fairly on board." And on the same day he 
 wrote to the authorities charged at Toulon with the prepara- 
 tion of the expedition, " The treasury has given orders that 
 three millions should be forthwith forwarded to Toulon. 
 The sailors of Brueys' squadron must be paid the instant the 
 three millions arrive from Berne.^' And on the 20th of April 
 he wrote to the commissioners of the treasury at Paris, 
 " You have only given orders, citizen commissioners, for the 
 transmission of such part of the three millions at Lyons as 
 are in francs and piastres, to Toulon : it is indispensable 
 however, that we have it all ; you will be good enough, there- 
 fore, to send orders to your agent at Lyons for the transmis- 
 sion of the whole, of whatever descriptions of coin it is com- 
 posed." — See Corresp. Conjid. de Napoleon, v., 74, 85, 86, 
 87, 102. 
 
 * Jom., X., 291. Lac, xiv., 195. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 503 
 
 could hardly tear himself from the fascination of 
 beauty at Paris, the stafi"; the most illustrious 
 philosophers and artists of the age, Monge, Ber- 
 thollet, Fourier, Larrey, Desgenettes, CJeofTroy 
 St. Hilaire, and Denon, attended the expedition. 
 Genius, in every department, hastened to range 
 itself under the banners of the youthful hero.* 
 
 The disturbance at Vienna, on account of the 
 fete given by Bernadotte, the ambassador of the 
 Republic at the imperial court, which will be 
 afterward mentioned, retarded for fifteen days the 
 departure of the expedition. During that period, 
 Europe awaited with breathless anxiety the 
 course of the storm, which it was well known 
 was now ready to burst. Bourrienne, on this oc- 
 Napoleon is casion, asked Napoleon if he was 
 driven to it finally determined to risk his fate on 
 bynecessity. the expedition to Egypt. "Yes," he 
 replied; "I have tried everything, but they will 
 have nothing to do with me. If 1 stayed here, it 
 ■would be necessary to overturn them, and make 
 myself king; but we must not think of that as 
 yet ; the nobles would not consent to it ; I have 
 sounded, but I find the time for that has not yet 
 arrived ;t I must first dazzle these gentlemen by 
 my exploits." In truth, he was convinced, at this 
 period, that he had no chance of escaping de- 
 struction but by persisting in his Oriental expe- 
 dition.: 
 
 Napoleon, having completed his preparations, 
 
 Na ol ar- ^>""^6d at Toulon on the 9th of May, 
 
 ^■Tives'aTTou- I'/SS, and immediately took the com- 
 
 'lon. Hisproc- mand of the army. Never had so 
 
 lamationto splendid an armament appeared on 
 
 ■the soldiers, jj^g ^^^^^ ^[,g gg^j consisted of 
 
 13 ships of the line, two of 64 guns, 14 frigates, 
 72 brigs and cutters, and 400 transports. It bore 
 36,000 soldiers of all arms, and above 10,000 
 sailors. Before embarking, the general-in-chief, 
 afler his usual custom, addressed the following 
 proclamation to his troops : " Soldiers ! You are 
 one of the wings of the army of England ; you 
 have made war in mountains, plains, and cities; 
 it remains to make it on the ocean. The Roman 
 legions, whom you have often imitated, but not 
 yet equalled, combated Carthage, by turns, on 
 the seas and on the plains of Zama. Victory 
 never deserted their standards, because they never 
 ceased to be brave, patient, and united. Sol- 
 diers ! the eyes of Europe are upon you ; you 
 liave great destinies to accomplish — battles to 
 fight — dangers and fatigues to overcome; you 
 are about to do more than you have yei done for 
 the prosperity of your country, the happiness of 
 man, and your own glory. The genius of liber- 
 ty, which has rendered, from its birth, the Re- 
 
 * Savary, i., 26. Th., ix., 69, 71. Bour., ii., 40. 
 
 t Bour., ii., 48, 54. Th,, ix., 73. 
 
 X The intelligence of the tumult at Vienna, and the ap- 
 pearance of approaching hostilities between Austria and 
 France, induced Napoleon to change his plan ; and he ear- 
 nestly represented to the Directory the iinpohcy of contin- 
 Tiing the Egyptian project at such a crisis. But the rulers 
 of France were now thoroughly awakened to the danger 
 they ran from the ascendency of Napoleon, and the only an- 
 swer they made to his representation was a positive order 
 to leave Paris on the 3d of May. This led to a warm alterca- 
 tion between him and the Directory, in the course of which 
 he resorted to his former manoeuvre of tendering his resigna- 
 tion. But on this occasion it did not succeed. Presenting 
 him with a pen, Rewbell said coldly, " You wish to retire 
 • from the service, general 1 If vou do, the Republic will 
 •doubtless lose a brave and skilful chief ; but it has still 
 . enough of sons who will not abandon it." Merlin upon this 
 interposed, and put an end to so dangerous an altercation ; 
 and Napoleon, devouring the affront, prepared to follow out 
 his Egyptian expedition, saying in private to Bourrienne, 
 " The pear is not yet ripe : let us depart ; we shall return 
 ■when the moment is aiTived."— Haud., vi., 513, 514. 
 
 public the arbiter of Europe, has now determined 
 that it should become .so of the seas, and of the 
 mo.st di.stant nations."* In such magnificent 
 mystery did this great man envelop his designs, 
 even when on the eve of their execution. 
 
 One of the last acts of Napoleon, before em- 
 barking, was to issue a humane proc- jus last act 
 lamation to the military commissions was one of 
 of the 9th division, in which Tou- humanity. 
 Ion was situated, in which he severely cen- 
 sured the cruel application of one of the harsh 
 laws of the 19th Fructidorto old men above sev- 
 enty years of age, children in infancy, and women 
 with child, who had been seized and shot for vio- 
 lating that tyrannical edict. This interposition 
 gave universal satisfaction, and added another 
 laurel of a purer colour to those which already 
 encircled the brows of the general. + 
 
 At length, on the 19th of May, the fleet set sail 
 in the finest weather, amid the dischar- -^^xh May. 
 ges of cannon and the acclamations Expedmoa 
 of an immense crowd of inhabitants, sets sail. 
 The L'Orient grounded at leaving the harbour, 
 by reason of its enormous bulk ; it was taken as 
 a sinister omen by the sailors, more alive than 
 any other class of men to superstitious impres- 
 sions. The fleet sailed in the first instance to- 
 wards Genoa, and thence to Ajaccio and Civita 
 Castellana, and having effected a junction with 
 the squadron in those harbours, bore away with 
 a fair wind for Malta. In coasting the shores 
 of Italy, they descried from on board the L'Orient 
 the snowy summit of the Alps in the extreme 
 distance. Napoleon gazed with feeling at the 
 mountains which had been witnesses of his early 
 achievements. " I cannot," said he, " behold 
 without emotion the land of Italy ; these mount- 
 ains command the plains where I have so often, 
 led the French to victory. Now we are bound 
 for the East ; with them victory is still secure." 
 His conversation was peculiarly animated during 
 the whole voyage ; every headland, every prom- 
 ontoiy, recalled some glorious exploit of ancient 
 history ; and his imagination kindled with fresh 
 fire as the fleet approached the shores of Asia, 
 and the scenes of the greatest deeds which have 
 illustrated the annals of mankind.! 
 
 On the 10th of June, after a prosperous Toy- 
 age, the white cliffs and superb fortifi- 
 cations of Malta appeared in dazzling M^l'ta" "^ 
 brilliancy above the unruffled sea. 
 The fleet anchored before the harbour which had 
 so gloriously resisted the whole force of 
 the Turks under Solyman the Magnifi- -"""^ '^• 
 cent ; its bastions were stronger, its artillery 
 more numerous than under the heroic Lavalette; 
 hut the spirit of the order was gone : a few hun- 
 dred chevaliers, lost in effeminacy and indolence, 
 intrusted to three thousand feeble mercenaries, 
 and as many militia, the defence of the place, and 
 its noble works seemed ready to become the prey 
 of any invader who had inherited the ancient 
 spirit of the defenders of Christendom. Before 
 leaving France, the capitulation of the place had 
 been secured by secret intelligence with the 
 grand-master and principal officers. Desaix 
 and Savary landed, and advanced which capit- 
 without opposition to the foot of the niates without 
 ramparts. Terms of accommodation firing a shot, 
 were speedily agreed on ; the town was surren- 
 dered on condition that the grand-master should 
 obtain 600,000 francs, a principality in Genna- 
 
 * Bour., ii., 48, 54. Th., ix., 81. Jom., x., 391. 
 
 t Bour., ii., 59. 
 
 i Bour., ii., 62, 72,- (4, 76. Th., a.., 82. 
 
504 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 ny, or a pension for life of 300,000 francs:* the 
 French chevaliers were promised a pension of 
 700 francs a year each ; and the tricolour flag 
 speedily waved on the ancient bulwark of the 
 Christian world. 
 
 So strongly were the generals impressed with 
 their good fortune on this occasion, 
 slrJ'J^'""'' ^hat, in passing through the impreg- 
 ° nable defences, Cafiarelli said to Na- 
 
 poleon, " It is well, general, that there was some 
 one within to open the gates to us ; we should 
 have had more trouble in making our way 
 through if the place had been empty." On en- 
 tering into the place, the French knew not how to 
 congratulate themselves on the address on the 
 one side, and pusillanimity on the other, which 
 had obtained lor them, without firing a shot, so 
 immense an acquisition. They were never 
 ■weary of examining the boundless fortifica- 
 tions and stupendous monuments of perseve- 
 rance which it contained ; the luxuiy and mag- 
 nificence of the palaces which the grand-mas- 
 ters had erected during the many centuries of 
 their inglorious I'epose, and the incomparable 
 harbour, which allowed the L'Orient to touch 
 the quay, and was capable of containing six 
 hundred sail of the line. In securing and or- 
 ganizing this new colony. Napoleon displayed 
 his wonted activity ; its innumerable batteries 
 were speedily armed, and General Vaubois left 
 at the head of three thousand men to superintend 
 its defence. All the Turkish prisoners found 
 in the galleys were set at liberty, and scattered 
 through the fleet, in order to produce a moral in- 
 fluence on the Mohammedan population in the 
 countries to which their course was bound. + 
 
 The secret of the easy conquest of this im- 
 pregnable island by Napoleon is to be found in 
 the estrangement of the chevaliers of other na- 
 tions from Baron Hompesch, the grand-master, 
 whom they disliked on account of his German 
 descent, and the intrigues long before practised 
 among the knights of French and Italian birth 
 hy a secret agent of Napoleon. Such was the 
 division produced by these circumstances, that 
 the garrison was incapable of making any re- 
 sistance ; and the leading knights, themselves 
 chiefs in the conspiracy, had so prepared mat- 
 ters, by disarming batteries, providing neither 
 stores nor ammunition, and disposing the troops 
 in disadvantageous situations, that resistance 
 was from the first perfectly hopeless. No soon- 
 er, however, were the gates delivered up, than 
 these unworthy successors of the defenders of 
 Christendom repented of their weakness. The 
 treasure of St. John, the accumulation of ages — 
 the silver plate of all the churches, palaces, and 
 hospitals — were seized on with merciless avidity, 
 and all the ships of war, artillery, and arsenals 
 of the order converted to the use of the Repub- 
 lic.jl 
 
 *Th., x.,85. Hour., ii., 65. Sav., i., 30. Jom., x., 392, 
 393. Miot, ix., 10. 
 
 t Jom., X., 399. Savary, i.,32. Bour.,ii.,65,66. Hard., 
 Ti., 75. t Hard., vi., 70, 76, 77. 
 
 I) So early as the 14th of November, 1797, Napoleon had 
 commenced his intrigues with the Knights of Malta. On 
 that day he wiote to Talleyrand, "You will receive here- 
 with a copy of the commission I haveg^iven to Citizen Pousse- 
 ligue, and my letter to the consul of Malta. The true ob- 
 ject of his mission is to put the finishing hand to the pro- 
 jects we have m view on Malta. — Conf. Desp., Napoleon 
 to Talleyrand, 14th Nov., 1797. In the January follow- 
 ing, this agent contrived, by liberal gifts, promises, and en- 
 tei'tainmeius, to seduce from their allegiance all that nu- 
 merous part of the garrison and knights who were iaclined 
 to Democratic priifciples.— Habd., v., 457, 460. 
 
 Having secured this important conquest, and 
 left a sufficient garrison to maintain it 
 for the Republic, Napoleon set sail for "°^ " 
 Egypt. The voyage was uninterrupted by any 
 accident, and the general, enjoying the beauti- 
 ful sky of the Mediterranean, remained con- 
 stantly on deck, conversing with tt,c -^^,.=,=, 
 
 -, ■> iTi,,, ",• il's conversa- 
 
 Monge and lierthollet on subjects tion during 
 of science, the age of the world, the the remainder 
 probable mode of its destruction, the '>*' "^^ ^"yage. 
 forms of religion, the decline of the Byzantine 
 Empire. These interesting themes were often 
 interrupted, however, by the consideration of 
 what would occur if the fleet were to encounter 
 the squadron of Nelson. Admiral Brueys, forci- 
 bly struck by the crowded state of the ships, and 
 the encumbrance which the soldiers would prove 
 in the event of an action, and especially to the 
 L'Orient, which had nearly two thousand mea 
 on board, could not conceal his apprehensions 
 of the result of such an engagement. Napoleon, 
 less accustomed to maritime afiairs, contem- 
 plated the event with more calmness. The sol- 
 diers were constantly trained to work the great 
 guns ; and, as there were five hundred on board 
 each ship of the line, he flattered himself that in 
 a close action they would succeed, by boarding, 
 in discomfiting the enemy.* 
 
 Meanwhile Nelson's fleet had arrived, on the 
 20th of June, before Naples ; from 
 thence he hastened to Messina, where ofNekon!^ 
 he received intelligence of the sur- 
 render of Malta, and that the French was steer- 
 ing for Candia. He instantly directed his course 
 for Alexandria, where he arrived on the 29th, 
 and finding no enemy there, set sail for the north, 
 imagining that the expedition was bound for the 
 Dardanelles. t It is a singular cir- who misses 
 cumstance, that on the night of the the French , 
 22d of June, the French and English fleet, 
 fleets crossed each other's track without either 
 party discovering their enemy.t 
 
 During the night, as the French fleet approach- 
 ed Egypt, the discharge of cannon was heard on 
 the right ; it was the signal which Nelson gave 
 to his squadron, which at this moment was not 
 more than Jive leagues distant, steering northward 
 from the coast of Egypt, where he had been vain- 
 ly seeking the French armament. § For several 
 hours the two fleets were within a few leagues 
 of each other. Had he sailed a little farther to 
 the left, or passed during the day, the two squad- 
 rons would have met, and an earlier battle of 
 Aboukir changed the fortunes of the world. | 
 
 At length, on the morning of the 1st of July, 
 
 the shore of Egypt was discovered 
 
 .stretching as far as the eye could ?^P^ '^ , 
 
 , r- , T J discovered. 
 
 reach irom east to west. Low sand- _ 
 
 hills, surmounted by a few scattered palms, pre- 
 sented little of interest to the ordinary eye ; but 
 the minarets of Alexandria, the Needle of Cleo- 
 patra, and the Pillar of Pompey, awakened those 
 dreams of ancient grandeur and Oriental con- 
 quest which had long floated in the mind of Na- 
 poleon. It was soon learned that the English 
 fleet had only left the Roads tv-o days before, and 
 had departed for the coasts of Syria in quest of 
 the French expedition. The general immedi- 
 ately pressed the landing of the troops; it was 
 begun on the evening of their arrival, and con- 
 tinued with the utmost expedition through the 
 
 * Nap., ii., 169. Bour., ii., 73. 83. Th., x., 87. 
 
 t Nap., ii., 167. Th., x., 88. 
 
 X James's Naval Hist., ii., 229. Savary, i., 35. 
 
 i> Savaiy, i., 35. Bour., ii., 84. Th., x., 88. Miot, T4. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 505 
 
 ■whole night ; and at one in the morning-, as the 
 state of the tide permitted the galley on which he 
 stood to approach the shore, he immediately dis- 
 embarked, and formed three thousand men amid 
 the sandhills of the Desert.* 
 
 At daybreak. Napoleon advanced at the head 
 of about five thousand men, being 
 Und?and ad- a" ^^at were already formed, to- 
 Tance's against wards Alexandria. The shouts 
 Ale-xandria, from the ramparts, and the dis- 
 ■which 13 taken, charge of some pieces of artillery, 
 left no doubt as to the hostile intentions of the 
 Mamelukes ; an assault was immediately or- 
 dered, and in a short time the French grena- 
 diers reached the top of the walls. Kleber was 
 struck by a ball on the head, and Menou thrown 
 do^vn from the top of the rampart to the bottom ; 
 but the ardour of the French soldiers overcame 
 every resistance ; and the negligence of the 
 Turks having left one of the principal gates 
 open during the assault, the defenders of the 
 walls were speedily taken in rear by those who 
 rushed in at that entrance, and fled in confusion 
 into the interior of the city.t 
 
 The conquerors were astonished to find a large 
 space filled with ruins between the exterior walls 
 and the inhabited houses ; an ordinaiy feature in 
 Asiatic towns, where the tyranny of the govern- 
 ment usually occasions an incessant diminution 
 of population, and ramparts, even of recent for- 
 mation, are speedily found to be too extensive 
 for the declining numbers of the people. The 
 soldiers, who, notwithstanding their military ar- 
 dour, did not share the Eastern visions of their 
 chief, were soon dissatisfied with the poverty 
 and wretchedness which they found among the 
 inhabitants; the brilliant anticipations of Orien- 
 tal luxury gave way to the sad realities of a life 
 of privation ; and men in want of food and 
 lodging derived little satisfaction from the obe- 
 lisks of the Ptolemies or the sarcophagus of 
 Alexander.; 
 
 Before advancing into the interior of the coun- 
 His first proc- ^H^i Napoleon issued the following 
 
 lamation on proclamation to his soldiers: "Sol- 
 landing to his diers ! You are about to undertake 
 troops. ^ conquest fraught with incalculable 
 
 effects upon the commerce and civilization of 
 the world. You will inflict upon England the 
 most grievous stroke she can sustain before re- 
 ceiving her deathblow. The people with whom 
 we are about to live are Mohammedans. Their 
 first article of faith is, ' There is but one God, 
 and Mohammed is his prophet.' Contradict them 
 not. Behave to them as you have done to the 
 Jews and the Italians ; show the same regard to 
 their muftis and imams as you did to their rab- 
 bis and bishops ; manifest for the ceremonies of 
 the Koran the same respect as you have shown 
 to the convents and the synagogues, the religion 
 of Moses and that of Jesus Christ. The first 
 town we are about to enter was built by Alex- 
 ander ; at every step we shall meet with recol- 
 lections worthy to excite the emulation of 
 Frenchmen." This address contains a faithful 
 picture of the feeling of the French army on re- 
 ligious subjects at this period. They not only 
 considered the Christain faith as an entire fabri- 
 cation, but were, for the most part, ignorant of its 
 very elements. Lavalette has recorded that 
 hardly one of them had ever been in a church; 
 and in Palestine, they were ignorant even of 
 
 * Savary, i.. 35, 36. Berthier. 3. 4. Th., x., 88. 
 
 t Berthier, 5. 6. Savary, i., 37, 38. 1 Savarr. i.. 38 
 
 Vol. I.— Sss 
 
 the names of the holiest places in sacred his- 
 tory.* 
 
 t^gypt, on which the French army was now 
 fairly landed, and which became the 
 theatre of such memorable exploits, is ^e.^riptioa 
 one of the most singular countries' in " ^^^'" 
 the world, not only from its geographical position, 
 but its physical conformation. It consists en- 
 tirely of the valley of the Nile, which, taking its 
 rise in the mountains of Abyssinia, alter traver- 
 sing for GOO leagues the arid deserts of Alrica, 
 and receiving the tributary waters of the Bahr- 
 el-Abiad, precipitates itself by the cataracts of 
 Sennaar into the lower valley, 200 leagues long, 
 which forms the country of Egypt. This valley^ 
 though of such immense length^ is only from one 
 to six leagues in breadth, and bounded on either 
 side by the rocky mountains of the Desert. Its 
 habitable and cultivated portion is entirely con- 
 fined to that part of the surface which is over- 
 flowed by the inundations of the Nile ; as far as 
 the waters rise, the soil is of extraordinary fertil- 
 ity ; beyond it, the glowing desert is alone to be 
 seen. At the distance of fifty leagues from the 
 sea, the Nile divides itself into two branches, 
 which fall into the Mediterranean, one at Ptoset- 
 ta, the other at Damietta. The triangle having 
 these two branches for its sides and the sea for its 
 base, is called the Delta, and constitutes the rich- 
 est and most fertile district of Egypt, being per- 
 fectly level, intersected by canals, and covered 
 with the most luxuriant vegetation."t 
 
 The soil of this singular valley was originally 
 as barren as the arid ridges which ad- Astonishin'^ 
 join it ; but it has acquired an extra- effects of the 
 ordinary degree of richness from the inundation of 
 well-known' inundations of the Nile, '■he Nile. 
 These floods, arising from the heavy rains of 
 July and August in the mountains of Abyssinia, 
 cause the river to rise gradually, during a period 
 of nearly three months. It begins to swell in the 
 middle of June, and continues to rise till the end 
 of September, when it attains the height of six- 
 teen or eighteen feet. The fertility of the coun- 
 try is just in proportion to the height of the inun- 
 dation : hence it is watched with the utmost anx- 
 iety by the inhabitants, and public rejoicings are 
 ordered when the Nllometer at Cairo indicates a 
 foot or two greater depth of water than usual. It 
 never rains in Egypt. Centuries may elapse 
 without more than a shower of drizzling mist: 
 moistening the surface of the soil. Hence culti- 
 vation can only be extended beyond the level to 
 which the water rises by an artificial system of 
 irrigation ; and the efforts made in this respect 
 by the ancient inhabitants, constitute, perhaps, 
 the most wonderful of the many monuments of 
 industry which they have left to succeeding 
 ages.i 
 
 During the inundation, the level plain of Egypt 
 is flooded with water ; the villages, detached 
 from each other, communicate only by boats, and 
 appear like the islands on the Laguna; of Venice, 
 in the midst of the watery waste. No sooner, 
 however, have the floods retired, than the soil, 
 covered to a considerable depth by a rich slime, 
 is cultivated and sown, and the seed, vegetating 
 quickly in that rich mould, and under a tropical 
 sun, springs up, and in three months yields a 
 hundred, and sometimes a hundred and fifty fold. 
 During the whole winter months the soil is cov- 
 ered with the richest harvests, besprinkled with 
 
 * Lan., i.. 2f^7. Bour., li., 77. 78. Th., x., 91. 
 
 t Th., I., 92, 93. Boiir., li., 271. 275. Savary, i., 47, 49* 
 
 t Nap. in Hour., ii., 270, 275. Th., x., 94, 95. 
 
506 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXY. 
 
 fowers, and dotted by innumerable flocks ; but 
 in March the great heats begin, the earth cracks 
 from excessive drought, vegetation disappears, 
 and the countrj' is fast relapsing into the sierility 
 of the Desert, when the annual floods of the Nile 
 again cover it with their vivifying waters.* 
 
 All the varied productions of the temperate 
 and the torrid zone flourish in this 
 fhelrr;."' favoured region. Besides all the 
 grams of Europe, Egypt produces 
 the hnest crops of rice, maize, sugar, indigo, cot- 
 ton, and senna. It has no oil, but the opposite 
 coasts of Greece furnish it in abundance ; nor 
 coffee, but it is supplied in profusion from the 
 adjoining mountains of Arabia. Hardly any 
 trees are to be seen over its vast extent ; a few 
 palms and sycamores, in the villages alone, rise 
 abov^e the luxuriant vegetation of the plain. Its 
 horses are celebrated over all the world for their 
 beauty, their spirit, and their incomparable docil- 
 ity ; and it possesses the camel, that wonderful 
 animal, which can support thirst for days togeth- 
 er, tread without fatigue the moving sands, and 
 traverse like a living ship the ocean of the 
 Desert.t 
 
 Every year immense caravans arrive at Cairo 
 from Syria and Arabia on the one side. 
 Its foreign ^^^ ^jjg interior of Africa on the other, 
 commerce, ^j^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ belongs to the re- 
 gions of the sun — gold, ivory, ostrich feathers, 
 gum, aromatics of all sorts, coffee, tobacco, spi- 
 ces, perfumes, with the numerous slaves which 
 mark the degradation of the human species in 
 those favoured countries. Cairo becomes, at that 
 period, an entrepot for the finest productions of 
 the earth, of those which the genius of the West 
 will never be able to rival, but for which their 
 opulence and luxury aflbrd a never-failing de- 
 mand. Thus the commerce of Egypt is the only 
 one in the globe which never can decay, but must, 
 under a tolerable government, continue to flour- 
 ish, as long as the warmth of Asia furnishes ar- 
 ticles which the industry and perseverance of 
 Europe are desirous of possessing.; 
 
 In ancient times, Egypt and Lybia, it is well 
 Decay of the ^^'lown, were the granary of Rome; 
 popuiation and the masters of the world depend- 
 since ancient ed for their subsistence on the floods 
 times. Qf tj^g ]Si iie.§ Even at the time of the 
 
 conquests of the Mohammedans, the former is 
 said to have contained twenty millions of souls, 
 including those who dwelt in the adjoining oases 
 of the Desert. This vast population is by no 
 means incredible, if the prodigious fertility of the 
 soil, wherever water can be conveyed, is consid- 
 ered ; and the extent to which, under a paternal 
 government, the system of artificial irrigation can 
 be carried. It is to the general decay of all the 
 great establishments for the watering of the 
 countiy which the industry of antiquity had con- 
 structed, that we are to ascribe the present limit- 
 ed extent of agriculture, and the perpetual en- 
 croachments which the sands of the Desert are 
 making on the region of human cultivation.il 
 
 Alexandria, selected by the genius of Alexan- 
 der the Great to be the capital of his 
 Iniportance of .^.^^g^ empire, is situated at the open- 
 Alexandna. .^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ 
 
 Nile, but which is now choked with sand, and 
 only covered with water in extraordinary floods. 
 Its harbour, capable of containing all the navies 
 
 * Th., X.. 95. N.ip., X., 202. 
 
 + Nap., ii . 200, 203. Th., x., 95, 96. 
 
 t Th., X., 97. (( Tac, Annal., xii., 32. 
 
 U Nap., ii., 205. Bour., ii., 275, 280. 
 
 of Europe, is the only safe or accessible port be- 
 tween Carthage and the shores of Palestine. 
 Vessels drawing twenty-one feet of water can 
 enter without dithculty, but those of larger dimen- 
 sions only when lightened of their guns. Roset- 
 ta and Damietta admit only barks, the bar at the 
 entrance of their harbours having only six feet 
 of water.* 
 
 At the period of this expedition to Egypt, the 
 population of the country, consisting of two 
 million five hundred thousand souls, was divi- 
 ded into four classes — the Mamelukes or Cir- 
 cassians, the Janizaries, the Arabs, and the 
 Copts, or natives of the soil.t 
 
 The Mamelukes, who were the actual rulers 
 of the country, consisted of young Account of the 
 Circassians, torn in infancy from inhabitants of 
 their parents, and transported into the country. 
 Egypt, to form the armed force of Mamelukes, 
 that province of the Turkish Empire. Bred up 
 in camps, without any knowledge of their coun- 
 try or relations, without either a home or a kin- 
 dred, they prided themselves solely on their 
 horses, their arms, and their military prowess. 
 This singular militia was governed by twenty- 
 four beys, the least considerable of whom was 
 followed by five or six hundred Mamelukes, 
 whom they maintained and equipped. This 
 body of twelve thousand horsemen, each of 
 whom was attended by two helots or servants, 
 constituted the military .strength of the country, 
 and formed the finest body of cavalry in the 
 world.! 
 
 The oifice of bey was not hereditary : some- 
 times it descended to the son, more generally to 
 the favourite officer of the deceased commander. 
 They divided the country among them in feudal 
 sovereignty; nominally equal, but necessarily 
 subject to the ascendant of talent, they exhibited 
 alternately the anarchy of feudal rule and the 
 severity of military despotism. They seldom 
 have been perpetuated beyond the third or fourth 
 generation on the shores of the Nile, and their 
 numbers are only kept up by annual accessions 
 of active youths from the mountains of Circassia. 
 
 The force of the beys was at one period very 
 considerable, but it had been seriously weakened 
 by the Russian conquests in Georgia, which cut 
 off' the source from which their numbers were 
 recruited, and at the time when the French land- 
 ed in Egypt, they were not a half of what they 
 formerly had been ; a circumstance which con- 
 tributed more than any other to the rapid success 
 with which the invasion of the latter was at- 
 tended.§ 
 
 The Turks or janizaries, forming the second 
 
 * Nap., ii., 212, 213. t Nap., ii., 213. Th., x., 97. 
 
 i " The bits in their horses' mouths are so powerful, that 
 the most fiery steeds are speedily checked, even at full ca- 
 reer, by an ordinary hand. Their stirrups are extremely 
 short, and give the rider gTcat power both in commanding' 
 his horse and striking with his sabre ; and the pommel and 
 back part of the saddle are so high, that the horseman, 
 though wounded, can scarcely lose his balance ; he can even 
 sleep without falling, as he would do in an arm-chair. The 
 horse is burdened by no baggage or provisions, all of which 
 are carried by the rider's servants ; while the Mameluke 
 himself, covered with shawls and turbans, is protected from 
 the strokes of a sabre. They are all splendidly armed : in 
 their girdle is always to be seen a pair of pistols and a po- 
 niard ; from the saddle is suspended another pair of pistols 
 and a hatchet ; on one side is a sabre, on the other a 
 blunderbuss, and the servant on foot carries a carbine. 
 They seldom parry with the sword, as their fine blades 
 would break in the collision, but avoid the strokes of their 
 adversary by skill in wheeling their horse, while they trust 
 to his impetus to sever his head from his body, without ei- 
 ther cut or thrust." — iMioT, 61, 63. 
 
 I) Hard., VI., 92, 93. Th., x., 100, 101. Nap., ii., 214, 215. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 507 
 
 Janizari part of the population, were introduced 
 on occasion of the conquest of Egypt 
 by the sultans of Constantinople. They were 
 about two hundred thousand in number, almost 
 all inscribed on the books of the janizaries, to 
 acquire their privileges; but, as usual in the 
 Ottoman Empire, with a very few of their num- 
 ber in reality following the standard of the 
 Prophet. Those actually in arms formed the 
 guards of the pacha, who still maintained a 
 shadow of authority for the Sultan of Constanti- 
 nople; but the great majority were engaged in 
 trades and handicrafts in the towns, and kept in 
 a state of complete subjection to the haughty 
 rule of the Mamelukes.* 
 
 The Arabs constituted the great body of the 
 population — at least two millions out of 
 the two millions and a half of which the 
 inhabitants consist. Their condition was in- 
 fmitely various — some forming a body of nobles, 
 who were the chief proprietors of the country ; 
 others, the doctors ol the law and the ministers 
 of religion ; a third class, the little proprietors, 
 •farmers, and cultivators. The whole instruction 
 of the country, the maintenance of its schools, 
 its mosques, its laws, and religion, were in their 
 hands. A numerous body, living on the borders 
 of the Desert, retained the roving propensities 
 and barbaric vices of the Bedouin race. Mount- 
 ed on camels or horses, driving numerous herds 
 before them, escorting or pillaging the caravans 
 which come to Cairo from Lybia and Arabia, 
 they alternately cultivated their fields on the 
 banks of the Nile, or fled from its shores loaded 
 with the spoils of plundered villages. The in- 
 diflerence or laxity of the Turkish rule almost 
 always suflered their excesses to escape with im- 
 punity. Industry languished, and population de- 
 clined in the districts exposed to their ravages ; 
 and the plunderers, retreating into the Desert, re- 
 sumed the wandering life of their forefathers, and 
 reappeared on the frontiers of civilization only, 
 like the moving sands, to devour the traces of 
 Jiuman industry. A hundred or a hundred and 
 twenty thousand of these marauders wandered 
 through the wilderness which bordered on either 
 side of the valley of the Nile : they could send 
 into the field twenty thousand men, admirably 
 mounted, and matchless in the skill with which 
 their horses were managed, but destitute of dis- 
 ■cipline, or of the firmness requisite to sustain the 
 attack of regular forces.t 
 
 The Copts constituted the fourth class of the 
 people. They are the descendants of the 
 °^ '■ native inhabitants of the countr\' — oftho.se 
 Egj'ptians who so early excelled in the arts of 
 civilization, and have left so many monuments 
 of immortal endurance. Now, insulted and de- 
 graded, on account of the Christian faith which 
 they still profess, they were cast down to the 
 lowest stage of society, their numbers not ex- 
 ceeding two hundred thousand, and their occu- 
 pations being of the meanest description. By 
 one of those wonderful revolutions which mark 
 the lapse of ages, the greater part of the slaves 
 in the countr}"- were to be found among the de- 
 scendants of the followers of Sesostris.t 
 
 At the period of the arrival of the French, two 
 Ibrahim Bey beys, Ibrahim Bey and Mourad Bey, 
 and Mourad divided between them the sovereignly 
 Bey ruled of Egj'pt. The first, rich, sagacious, 
 the country. ^^^^ powerful, was, by a sort of tacit 
 
 ♦ Th., X., 97. Nap., ii., 216. 
 
 t Volney, de I'Egypte, 137. Th., x., 98, 99. Nap., ii., 
 f219, 220. t Nap., u., 218. Tli., i., 100, 101. 
 
 understanding, invested with the civil govern- 
 ment of the country ; the latter, young, active, 
 and enterprising, was at the head of its military 
 establishments. His ardour, courage, and brill- 
 iant qualities rendered him the idol of the sol- 
 diers, who advanced, confident of victory, under 
 his standard.* 
 
 The policy of Napoleon in invading a coun- 
 try unilbrmly was, to rouse the nu- Poijcy of Na- 
 merous governed against the few poieon in in- 
 governors, and thus paralyze its vadmg Egypt, 
 means of resistance by arming one part of the 
 population against the other. On approaching 
 Egypt, he at once saw that, by rousing the Arabs 
 against the domination of the beys, not only the 
 power of the latter would be awakened, but a nu- 
 merous and valuable body of auxiliaries might 
 be procured for the invading force. To accom- 
 plish this object, it was necessarj', above all 
 things, to avoid a religious war, which would 
 infallibly have united all ranks of the Mussul- 
 mans against the invaders, and to gain the affec- 
 tions of the Arabs by flattering their leaders and 
 indulging their prejudices. For this purpose, he 
 left the administration of justice and the affairs 
 of religion exclusively in the hands of the 
 scheiks, and addressed himself to the feelings 
 of the multitude through the medium of their es- 
 tablished teachers. For the Mohammedan reli- 
 gion and its precepts he professed the highest ven- 
 eration; for the restoration of Arabian independ- 
 ence the most ardent desire ; to the beys alone he 
 swore eternal and imcompromising hostility. In 
 this manner he hoped to awaken in his favour 
 both the national feelings of the most numeroas 
 part of the people, and the religious enthusiasm 
 which is ever so powerful in the East; and, in- 
 verting the passions of the Crusades, to rouse in 
 favour of European conquest the vehemence of 
 Oriental fanaticism.tt 
 
 Proceeding on these principles, Napoleon ad- 
 dressed the following singular procla- jj,g procla- 
 mation to the Egyptian people : " Peo- mation to 
 pie of Egypt ! you will be told by our the Egyp- 
 enemies that I am come to destroy "''"^• 
 your religion. Believe them not. Tell them 
 that I am come to restore your rights, punish 
 your usurpers, and revive the true worship of 
 Mohammed, which I venerate more than the 
 Mamelukes. Tell them that all men are equal 
 in the sight of God; that wisdom, talents, and 
 virtue alone constitute the difference betweeen. 
 them. And what are the virtues which distin- 
 guish the Mamelukes, that entitle them to appro- 
 priate all the enjoyments of life to themselves? 
 If Egypt is their farm, let them show the tenure 
 from God by which they hold it. No ! God is 
 
 * Th., X., 100, 101. 
 
 t Nap., ii., 226, 227. Th., x., 104, 105. 
 
 t " The French army," says Napoleon,," since the Revo- 
 lution, had practised no sort of worship ; in Italy even, the 
 soldiers never went to church ; we took advantage of that 
 circumstance to present the army to the Mussulmans as 
 readily disposed to embrace their faith. I had many discus- 
 sions with the scheiks on this subject ; and after many- 
 weeks spent in fruitless discussion, they arrived at the 
 conclusion that circumcision, and the prohibition againsc 
 wine, might be dispensed with, provided not a tenth, but a 
 fifth of the income, was spent in acts of beneficence." The 
 general-m-chief then traced out the plan of a mosque, which 
 was to exceed that of Jeinilazar, and declareil it was to be a 
 monument of the conversion of the army. In all this, how- 
 ever, he sought only to gain time. Napoleon was, upon this, 
 declared the friend of the Prophet, and specially placed un- 
 der his protection. The report spread generally, that before 
 the expiry of a year the soldiers would wear the turban. 
 Tliis produced tfie veiy best effect ; the people ceased t* 
 regard them as idolaters.— iVap. in ftlONTH., ii., 21i, 212. 
 
•508 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 just and full of pity to the suffering people. For 
 long a horde ol slaves, bought in the Caucasus 
 and Georgia, have tyrannized over the finest part 
 of the world ; but God, upon whom everything 
 depends, has decreed that it should terminate. 
 Cadis, scheiks, imams, tell the people that we 
 too are triie Mussulmans. Are we not the men 
 who have destroyed the pope, who preached eter- 
 nal war against the Mussulmans 1 Are we not 
 those who have destroyed the chevaliers of Mal- 
 ta, because those madmen believed that they 
 should constantly make war on your faith ? Are 
 we not those who have been, in every age, the 
 friends of the Most High, and the enemies of his 
 enemies'!* Thrice happy those who are with 
 us ; they will prosper in all their undertakings : 
 wo to those who shall join the Mamelukes to 
 resist us ; they shall perish without mercy." 
 
 Napoleon was justly desirous to advance to 
 ■Ri= arrin<r» Calro bcforc the inundations of the 
 
 jiib arrange- --t-i i i -i ■ • ■ 
 
 meats for ad- Nile rendered military operations in 
 vancingtoCa- the level country impossible; but 
 "°- for this purpose it was necessary to 
 
 accelerate his movements, as the season of the 
 rise of the waters was fast approaching. He 
 made, accordingly, the requisite arrangements 
 with extraordinary celerity; left three thousand 
 men in garrison at Alexandria, under Kleber, 
 with a distinguished officer of engineers to put 
 the works in a posture of defence; established 
 the civil government in the persons of the scheiks 
 and imams ; gave directions for sounding the har- 
 bour, with a view to placing the fleet in safety, if 
 the draught of water would permit the entry of 
 the larger vessels; collected a flotilla on the Nile 
 to accompany the troops, and assigned to it, as a 
 place of rendezvous, Ramanieh, a small town 
 on that river, situated about half way to Cairo, 
 whither he proposed to advance across the desert 
 of Damanhour;t while, at the same time, he 
 wrote to the French ambassador at Constantino- 
 ple to assure the Porte of his anxious desire to 
 remain at peace with the Turkish government.; 
 On the Gth of July the army set out on their 
 march, being now reduced, by the garri- 
 6th July, gi^j^g pj- ]y[^na ^nd that recently left in 
 Alexandria, to 30,000 men. At the same time, 
 Kleber's division, under the orders of Dugua, 
 was directed to move upon Rosetta, to secure 
 that town, and facilitate the entrance of the flo- 
 tilla into the Nile. Desaix was at the head of 
 M h of ^^^ vanguard; his troops began their 
 theadvan- march in the evening, and advanced 
 ced guard with tolerable cheerfulness during the 
 across the cool of the night ; but when morning 
 desert. dawned, and they found themselves 
 traversing a boundless plain of sand, without 
 water or shade — with a burning sun above their 
 head, and troops of Arabs flitting across the ho- 
 rizon, to cut off the weary or stragglers — they 
 were filled with the most gloomy forebodings. 
 Already the desire for rest had taken possession 
 of their minds ; they had flattered themselves that 
 they were to find repose and a terrestrial para- 
 dise in Egypt ; and when they found themselv-es, 
 instead, surrounded by a pathless desert, their 
 discontent broke out in loud lamentations. All 
 
 * Hour., li., 96, 98. t Berthier, 9, 11. Th., x., 107, 108. 
 
 t "The army has arrived ; it has disembarked at Alexan- 
 dria, aud carried that town ; we are now in full march for 
 Cairo. Use your utmost efforts to convince the Porte of our 
 firm resohition to continue to live on the best terms with his 
 government. An ambassador to Constantinople has just 
 been named for that purpose, who will arrive there without 
 delay." — Letter to the Char^" (T Affaires at Constantinople, 
 8tk July, 1798.— Con-c«j>. .Secrete,' v., 199. 
 
 the wells on the road were either filled up or ex- 
 hausted; hardly a few drops of muddy and brack- 
 ish water were to be found to quench their burn- 
 ing thirst. At Dainanhour, a few houses af- 
 forded shelter at night only to the 
 general's staff; the remainder of the Their suffer- 
 troops bivouacked in squares on the '"^*" 
 sand, incessantly harassed by the clouds of 
 Arabs who wheeled round their position, and 
 sometimes approached within fifty yards of the 
 videttes. Alter a rest of two days, the army re- 
 sumed its march across the sandy wilderness, 
 still observed in the distance by the hostile Be- 
 douins ; and soon the suffering from thirst be- 
 came so excessive, that even Lannes and Mura.t 
 threw themselves on the sand, and gave way to 
 every expression of despair.* In the midst of the 
 general aepression, a sudden gleam of hope illu- 
 minated the countenances of the soldiers ; a lake 
 appeared in the arid wilderness, with villages 
 and palm-trees clearly reflected in its glassy sur- 
 face. Instantly the parched troops hastened t3 
 the enchanting object, but it receded from their 
 steps ; in vain they pressed on with burning im- 
 patience — it forever fled from their approach ; 
 and they had at length the mortification of dis- 
 covering that they had been deceived only by the 
 mirage of the Desert.t 
 
 The firmness and resolution of Napoleon, 
 however, triumphed over every ob- . 
 stacle ; the approach to the Nile was ^^l'' "'"■ *^* 
 shortly indicated by the increasing 
 bodies of Arabs, with a few Mamelukes, who 
 watched the columns; and at length the long- 
 wished-for stream was seen glittering through 
 the sandhills of the Desert. At the joyful sight 
 the ranks were immediately broken ]X men, 
 horses, and camels rushed simultaneously to 
 the banks, and threw themselves into the stream; 
 all heads were instantly lowered into the water- 
 and, in the transport of delight, the sufferings oL 
 the preceding days were speedily forgotten. 
 
 While the troops were thus assuaging their 
 thirst, an alarm was given that the Actions with 
 Mamelukes were approaching : the the Mame- 
 drums beat to arms, and eight hun- l"kes. 
 dred horsemen, clad in glittering armour, sooa 
 appeared in sight. Finding, however, the lead- 
 ing division prepared, they passed on, and at- 
 tacked the division of Desaix, which was coming 
 up; but the troops rapidly forming in squares, 
 with the artillery at the angles, dispersed the as- 
 
 * The sufferings of the army are thus vividly depicted in 
 Desaii's despatch to Napoleon : " If all the army does not 
 pass the Desert with the rapidity of lightning, it will perish. 
 It does not contain water to quench the thirst of a thousand 
 men. The greater part of what it does is contained in cis- 
 terns, which, once emptied, are not replenished by any per- 
 ennial fountain. The villages are huts without resources 
 of any kind. For Heaven's sake, do not leave us in this sit- 
 uation ; Older us rapidly to advance or retire. I am in de- 
 spair at being obliged to write to you in the language of anx- 
 iety ; when we are out of our present horrible position, X 
 hope my wonted firmness wiU return." — Corresp. Confid. de 
 Napoleon, v., 217. 
 
 t M. Monge, who accompanied the expedition, published 
 the following account of this singular illusion : " When the 
 surface of the earth has been during the day thoroughly 
 heated by the rays of the sun, and towards evening it begins 
 to cool, the higher objects of the landscape seem to rise oat 
 of a general inundation. The villages appear to rise out of 
 a vast lake ; under each is its image inverted, exactly as if 
 it was in the midst of a glassy sheet of water. As you ap- 
 proach the village, it recedes from the view ; when you ar- 
 rive at it, you find it is still in the midst of burning sand ; 
 and the deception begins anew with some more distant ob- 
 ject."— The phenomenon admits of an easy explanation on 
 optical principles. — See MiOT, 28, 32. 
 
 t Las Cas., i., 221. Berthier, U, 12, 13. Th., x., 109,. 
 110. Sav., i., 50. Miot, 26, 38, 39. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 509 
 
 sailants by a single discharge of grapeshot. 
 The whole army soon came up, and the flotilla 
 having appeared in sight about the same time, 
 the soldiers rested in plenty for a whole day be- 
 side the stream. A severe action had taken 
 place on the Nile between the French and Egyp- 
 tian flotillas, but the Asiatics were defeated, and 
 the boats arrived at the destined spot at the pre- 
 cise hour assigned to them. The landscape now 
 totally changed; luxuriant verdure on the banks 
 of the river succeeded to the arid uniformity of 
 the Desert ; incomparable fertility in the soil 
 promised abundant supplies to the troops, and 
 the shade of palm-trees and .sycamores afforded 
 an enjoyment unknown to those who have never 
 traversed an Eastern wilderness.* 
 
 After a day's rest, the army pursued its march 
 along the banks of the Nile towards Chebreiss. 
 Mourad Bey, with four thousand Mamelukes 
 and fellahs or foot-soldiers, lay on the road, his 
 right resting on the village, and supported by a 
 flotilla of gunboats on the river. The French 
 flotilla outstripped the march of the land-forces, 
 and engaged in a furious and doubtful combat 
 with the enemy before the arrival of the army. 
 July 13. Napoleon immediately formed his ar- 
 Actioii at my in five divisions, each composed of 
 Chebreiss. squares six deep, with the artillery at 
 the angles, and the grenadiers in platoons, to 
 support the menaced points. The cavalry, who 
 were only two hundred in number, and still ex- 
 tenuated by the fatigues of the voyage, were 
 {)laced in the centre of the square. No sooner 
 lad the troops approached within half a league 
 of the enemy, than the Mamelukes advanced, 
 and, charging at full gallop, assailed their moving 
 squares with loud cries and the most determined 
 intrepidity. The artillery opened upon them as 
 soon as they approached within point-blank 
 range, and the rolling fire of the infantry soon 
 mowed down those who escaped the grapeshot. 
 Animated by this success, the French deployed 
 and attacked the village, which was speedily 
 carried. The Mamelukes retreated in disorder 
 towards Cairo, with the loss of 600 men, and 
 the flot Ua at the same time abandoned the scene 
 of action, and drew oft' farther up the Nile.t 
 
 This action, though by no means decisive. 
 The army sufficed to familiarize the soldiers 
 advances to- with the new species of enemy they 
 wardsCairo. had to encounter, and to inspire them 
 with a well-founded confidence in the efficacy of 
 their discipline and tactics to repel the assaults 
 of the Arabian cavalry. The troops continued 
 their march for seven days longer towards Cai- 
 ro ; their fatigues were extreme ; and as the vil- 
 lages were all deserted, it was with the utmost 
 difficulty that subsistence could be obtained. The 
 vicinity of the Nile, however, supplied them 
 with water, and the sight of the Arabs, who con- 
 stantly prowled round the horizon, impressed 
 them with the necessity of keeping their ranks. 
 They arrive ^^ length the army arrived within 
 wiihin sight sight of the PYRAMIDS and the town 
 of tne Mame- of Cairo. All eyes were instantly 
 Ju'r 21^'^^^' ^"™^<i "Pon the oldest monuments 
 "^ ■ in the world, and the sight of those 
 
 gigantic structures reanimated the spirit of the 
 soldiers, who had been bitterly lamenting the de- 
 lights of Italy. 
 
 Mourad Bey had there collected all his for- 
 ces, consisting of six thousand Mamelukes, and 
 
 double that number of fellahs, Arabs, and Copts. 
 His camp was placed in the village of Embabeh, 
 on the left bank of the Nile, which was fortified 
 by rude field-works and forty pieces of cannon, 
 but the artillery was not mounted on carriages, 
 and consequently could only fire in one direction. 
 Between the camp and the Pyramids extended a 
 wide sandy plain, on which were stationed above 
 eight thousand of the finest horsemen in the 
 world, with their right resting on the village, and 
 their left stretching towards the Pyramids. A 
 few thousand Arabs, assembled to pillage the 
 vanquished, whoever they should be, filled up 
 the space to the foot of those gigantic monu- 
 ments.* 
 
 Napoleon no sooner discovered, by means of 
 his telescopes, that the cannon in the 
 intrenched camp were immovable, p^'g^ds*^ 
 and could not be turned round from ^"*°" 
 the direction in which they were placed, than he 
 resolved to move his army farther to the right, 
 towards the Pyramids, in order to be beyond the 
 reach and out of the direction of the guns. The 
 columns accordingly began to march ; Desaix, 
 with his division in front, next Regnier, then 
 Dugua, and lastly. Vial and Bon. The sight 
 of the Pyramids, and the anxious nature of the 
 moment, inspired the French general with even 
 more than his usual ardour ;t the sun glittered 
 on those immense masses, which seemed to rise 
 in height every step the soldiers advanced, and 
 the army, sharing his enthusiasm, gazed, as they 
 marched, on the everlasting monuments. " Re- 
 member," said he, "that from the summit of 
 those Pyramids forty centuries contemplate your 
 actions." 
 
 With his usual sagacity, the general had ta- 
 ken extraordinary precautions to en- Lateral move- 
 sure success against the formidable mentofNapo- 
 cavalry of the De.sert. The divisions !«""• 
 Avere all drawn up as before, in hollow squares 
 six deep, the artillery at the angles, the generals 
 and baggage in the centre. When they were in 
 mass, the two sides advanced in column, those 
 in front and rear moved forward in their ranks, 
 but the moment they were charged, the whole 
 were to halt, and face outward on every side. 
 When they were themselves to charge, the three 
 front ranks were to break off and form the col- 
 umn of attack, those in the rear remaining be- 
 hind, still in square, but three deep only, to con- 
 stitute the reserve. Napoleon had no fears for 
 the result if the infantry were steady; his only 
 apprehension was that his soldiers, accustomed 
 to charge, would yield to their impetuosity too 
 soon, and would not be brought to the immova- 
 ble firmness which this species of warfare re- 
 quired. | 
 
 Mourad Bey no sooner perceived the lateral 
 movement of the French army, . 
 than, with a promptitude of decis- ;,"Mourad Bey! 
 ion worthy of a skilful general, he 
 resolved to attack the columns while in the act 
 of completing it. An extraordinary movement 
 was immediately observed in the Mameluke line, 
 and speedily seven thousand horsemen detached 
 themselves from the remainder of the army, and 
 bore down upon the French columns. It was a 
 terrible sight, capable of daunting the bravest 
 troops, when this immense body of cavalry ap- 
 proached at full gallop the squares of infantry. 
 The horsemen, admirably mounted and magnif- 
 
 * Sav., i., 50. Berth., 13. Th., x., 110, 111. 
 
 + Bam., ii., 134, 135. Berth., 15, 16. Th., i., 112. 
 
 * Nap., li., 234. .lorn., xi., 408. 
 
 t Th., X., 1 Ifi. Nap., ii., 937. Jom., xi., 410. 
 
 t Nap., ii., 236, 237. Th., x., 117. 
 
510 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 icently dressed, rent the air with their cries. 
 The glitter of spears and ciniiters dazzled the 
 sight, while the earth groaned under the repeat- 
 ed and increasing thunder of their feet. The 
 soldiers, impressed, but not panic-struck by the 
 sight, stood tirm, and an.xiously waited, with their 
 pieces ready, the order to fire. Desaix's divis- 
 ion being entangled in a wood of palm-trees, was 
 not completely formed when the swiftest of the 
 Mamelukes came upon them ; they wem, in con- 
 sequence, partially broken, and thirty or forty of 
 the bravest of the assailants penetrated, and died 
 in the midst of the square at the feet of the offi- 
 cers ; but before the mass arrived the movement 
 was completed, and a rapid fire of musketry and 
 grape drove them trom the front round the sides 
 of the column. With matchless intrepidity, they 
 pierced through the interval between Desaix's 
 and Regnier's divisions, and riding round both 
 squares, strove to find an entrance ; but an in- 
 cessant fire from every front mowed them down 
 as fast as they poured in at the opening. Furi- 
 ous at the unexpected resistance, they dashed 
 their horses against the rampart of bayonets, and 
 threw their pistols at the heads of the grenadiers, 
 while many who had lost their steeds crept along 
 the ground, and cut at the legs of the front rank 
 with their cimiters. In vain thousands suc- 
 ceeded, and galloped round the flaming walls of 
 steel; multitudes perished under the rolling fire 
 which, without intermission, issued from the 
 ranks, and at length the survivers, in despair, 
 fled towards the camp from whence they had is- 
 sued. Here, however, they were charged in flank 
 by Napoleon at the head of Dugua's division, 
 while those of Vial and Bon, on the extreme left, 
 stormed the intrenchments. The most 
 He IS total- j^Qj.j.j5jg confusion now reigned in the 
 ly deieated. , , . . ^ . . ,. 
 
 camp ; the horsemen, driven in m dis- 
 order, trampled under foot the infantry, who, 
 panic-stnick at the rout of the Mamelukes, on 
 whom all their hopes were placed, abandoned 
 their ranks, and rushed in crowds towards the 
 boats to escape to the other side of the Nile. 
 Numbers saved themselves by swimming, but a 
 great proportion perished in the attempt. The 
 Mamelukes, rendered desperate, seeing no pos- 
 sibility of escape in that direction, fell upon the 
 columns who were approaching from the right, 
 with their wings extended in order of attack ; but 
 they, forming square again with inconceivable 
 rapidity, repulsed them with great slaughter, and 
 drove them finally off" in the direction of the Pyr- 
 amids. The intrenched camp, with all its artil- 
 lery, stores, and baggage, fell into the hands of 
 the victors. Several thousands of the Mame- 
 lukes were drowned or killed ; and of the formi- 
 dable array which had appeared in such splen- 
 dour in the morning, not more than two thou- 
 sand five hundred escaped with Mourad Bey into 
 Upper Egypt. The victors hardly lost two hun- 
 dred men in the action ; and several days were 
 occupied after it was over in stripping the slain 
 of their magnificent appointments, or fishing up 
 the rich spoils which encumbered the banks of 
 the Nile.* 
 
 This action decided the fate of Egj^pt, not only 
 ,^ ,. „ by the destruction of Ibrce which it 
 
 tf/el to l7r.a; effected, but the dispersion of what 
 Mourad Bey to remained which it occasioned. 
 Upper Egypt. Mourad Bey retired to Upper Egj'pt, 
 Napoleon en- leaving Cairo to its fate, while Ibra- 
 ters airo. j^.^ Pacha, who had been a spec- 
 
 tator of the combat from the opposite side of the 
 river, set fire to the boats which contained his 
 riches, and retreated to Salahieh, on the frontiers 
 of Arabia, and from thence across the Desert into 
 Syria. Two days after the battle Napoleon en- 
 tered Cairo, where his soldiers found all the lux- 
 uries of the East, which for a time compensated 
 to them for their absence from Europe. The di- 
 vision of Desaix was destined to pursue Mourad 
 Bey into Upper Egypt; the other divisions, dis- 
 persed in the environs of Cairo, or advanced to- 
 wards Syria in pursuit of Ibrahim Pacha, tasted 
 the sweets of repose after their short but fatiguing 
 campaign.* 
 
 No sooner was Napoleon established in Cairo, 
 and his officers employed in exploring Pacific meas- 
 the Pyramids and City of Tombs uiesofKapo- 
 which lay at their feet, than he set lf=™- 
 himself sedulously to follow up the plan for ac- 
 quiring the dominion over the country to which 
 his proclamations from Alexandria had origin- 
 ally pointed. He visited the principal scheiks, 
 flattered them, held out hopes of the speedy re- 
 establishment of the Arabian power, promised 
 ample security for their religion and their cus- 
 toms, and at length completely won their confi- 
 dence by a mixture of skilful management with 
 the splendid language which was so well calcu- 
 lated to captivate Eastern imaginations. The 
 great object was to obtain from the scheiks of the 
 Mosque of Jemilazar, which was held in the 
 highest estimation, a declaration in favour of the 
 French, and by adroitly flattering their ambition, 
 this object was at length gained. t A species of 
 litany was composed by them, in which they cel- 
 ebrated the overthrow of their Mameluke o\>- 
 pressors by the invincible soldiers of the West. 
 "The beys," said they, "placed their confidence 
 in their cavalry; they ranged their infantry in 
 order of battle. But the Favourite of Fortune, 
 at the head of the brave men of the West, has 
 destroyed their horses and confounded their 
 hopes. As the vapours which rise in the morn- 
 ing from the Nile are dispersed by the rays of 
 the sun, so has the army of the Mamelukes been 
 dissipated by the heroes of the West; for the 
 Great Allah is irritated against the Mamelukes, 
 and the soldiers of Europe are the thunders of his 
 right hand."j 
 
 The Battle of the Pyramids struck terror far 
 into Asia and Africa. The caravans which 
 came to Mecca from the interior of those vast 
 regions, carried back the most dazzling accounts 
 of the victories of the invincible legions of Eu- 
 rope ; the destruction of the cavalry which had 
 
 * Nap., ii.. 237, 239, 241. Sav., i., 57. Th., x., 118, 121. 
 Lac, ziT.,-268. 
 
 * Sav., i., 59. Nap., ii., 246, 249. 
 
 t "You are not ignorant," said the scheiks, in this curi- 
 ous proclamation, which evidently bears the marks of the 
 composition of Napeleon, " that the French alone, of all the 
 European nations, have, in every age, been the firm friends 
 of Mussulmans and Mohammedism, and the enemies of 
 idolaters and their superstitions. They are the faithful and 
 zealous allies of our sovereign the sultan, ever ready to give 
 him proofs of their affection, and to fly to his succour ; they 
 love those whom he loves, and hate those whom he hates ; 
 and that is the cause of their rupture with the Russians, 
 those irreconcilable enemies of the worshippers of the true 
 God, who meditate the capture of Constantinople, and in- 
 cessantly employ alike violence and artifice to subjugate the 
 faith of Mohammed. But the attachment of the French to 
 the Sublime Porte, and the powerful succours which they 
 are about to bring to him, will doubtless confound their im- 
 pious designs. The Russians desire to get possession of St. 
 Sophia, and the other temples dedicated to the service of 
 the true God, to convert them into churrhe? consecrated to 
 the exercises of their perverse faith ; but, by the aid of Heav- 
 en, the French will enable the sultan to conquer their coun- 
 try, and exterminate their impious race " — Corresp. Confid. 
 de Nap., v., 407. t Th., i., 123, 127. Dum., ii., 142. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 511 
 
 so long tyrannized over Egypt excited the strong- 
 est sentiments of wonder and admiration ; and tlie 
 Orientals, whose imaginations were strongly im- 
 pressed by the flaming citadels which had dissi- 
 pated their terrible squadrons, named Napoleon 
 Sultan Kebir, or the Sultan of Fire.* 
 
 Napoleon, in addition to the terror inspired by 
 _. .. , his military exploits, strove to ac- 
 impKruai civil quire a lasting hold of the affections 
 government, of the people by the justice and im- 
 lle affects the partiality of his civil government. 
 
 the multitude in celebrating the fes- 
 tival in honour of the inundation of the Nile, 
 which that year rose to an extraordinaiy height; 
 partook with the scheiks and imams in the cere- 
 monies at the great mosque ; joined in the re- 
 sponses in their litanies like the faithful Mus- 
 sulmans; and even balanced his body and moved 
 his head in imitation of the Mohammedan cus- 
 tom. Nor was it only by an affected regard for 
 their religion that he endeavoured to confirm his 
 civil authority. He permitted justice to be ad- 
 ministered by the scheiks and imams, enjoining 
 only a scrupulous impartiality in their decisions: 
 established at Cairo a divan or parliament, to 
 make known the wants of the people ; and oth- 
 ers in the different provinces, to send deputies to 
 the Central Assembly ; and vigorously repulsed 
 the robbers of the Desert, who for centuries had 
 devastated with impunity the frontiers of the 
 cultivated country. Never had Egypt experien- 
 ced the benefits of regular government so com- 
 pletely as under his administration. One day, 
 when Napoleon was surrounded by the scheiks, 
 information was received that some Arabs, of 
 the .tribe of Osnadis, had slain a fellah and car- 
 ried off the flocks of the village. He instantly 
 ordered that an officer of the staff should take 
 three hundred horsemen and two hundred cam- 
 els to pursue the robbers and punish the aggres- 
 sors. " Was the fellah your cousin," said a 
 scheik, laughing, "that you are in such a rage 
 at his death 1" " He was more," replied Napo- 
 leon ; " he was one whose safety Providence had 
 intrusted to my care." " Wonderful !" replied 
 the scheik : " you speak like one inspired by 
 the Almighty."t 
 
 But, while these great designs occupied the 
 Growing dis- commander-in-chief, an extraordi- 
 contents of the nary degree of depression prevailed 
 army. ju {he army. Egypt had been held 
 
 out to the soldiers as the promised land. They 
 expected to find a region flowing with milk and 
 honey, and, after a short period of glorious ex- 
 ile, to return with the riches of the East to their 
 native country. A short experience was suffi- 
 cient to dissipate all these illusions. They found 
 a land, illustrious only by the recollections with 
 which it was fraught, filled with the monuments 
 of ancient splendour, but totally destitute of mod- 
 em comfort, bowed down with tyranny, squalid 
 with poverty, barbarous in manners. When the 
 excitements of the campaign were over, and the 
 troops had leisure to contemplate their situation, 
 a mortal feeling of ennui and disquietude took 
 possession of every heart. " They thought," 
 says Bourrienne, " of their country, of their re- 
 lations, of their amours, of ^A*; Opera;" the pros- 
 pect of being banished forever from Europe, on 
 that arid shore, excited the most gloomy presen- 
 timents ; and at length the discontent reached 
 
 * Scott, iv., 74. 
 
 t Th., X.. 128. Bour., ii., 124, 128. Dum., ii., 170, 173. 
 Nap., ji., 222. las Cas., i., 232. 
 
 such a height, that Napoleon was obliged to 
 threaten death to any officer, whatever his rank, 
 who should venture to make known to him the 
 feelings which every one entertained.* 
 
 It is a singular proof of the ascendant which 
 Napoleon had acquired over the calamitous 
 minds of the soldiers, that when they expedition to 
 were in this state of perilous fennent- Saiahieh on 
 ation, he ventured to proceed in per- !■''* Syhaa 
 son, With the divisions commanded by ibrahim Bey 
 Dugua and Regnier, to extinguish an retires into 
 insurrection which Ibrahim had ex- Syria, 
 cited in the eastern part of Egypt, and drive hita 
 across the Desert into Syria. The French over- 
 took the Mamelukes at Salahieh, on the borders- 
 of the Desert ; and, as their rear-guard was heav- 
 ily laden with baggage, the Arabs who accom- 
 panied the cavalry strongly urged them to charge 
 the retiring colum.ns, who were posted near a 
 wood of palm-trees. The disproportion of force- 
 was excessive, the Mamelukes being nearly 
 thrice as numerous as the Europeans ; never- 
 theless. Napoleon, confident of success, ordered 
 the attack. But, though the discipline of the 
 Europeans prevailed over the desultory valour 
 of the Mussulmans in a regular engagement,, 
 they had no such advantage in an affair of out- 
 posts, and on this occasion the skill and courage 
 of the Mamelukes had wellnigh proved fatal to 
 the best part of the French cavalry. The charge, 
 though bravely led by Leclerc and Murat, was 
 as courageously received. The Mamelukes 
 yielded at first, but soon returning, with their 
 wings extended, closed in on every side around 
 their pursuers. In the m^Ue all the French offi- 
 cers had to sustain desperate personal encoun- 
 ters, and were, for the most part, severely wound- 
 ed ; nothing but the opportune arrival of the in- 
 fantry extricated them from their perilous situa- 
 tion. The object, however, of the expedition 
 was gained ; Ibrahim crossed the Desert LntcK 
 Syria, leaving Mourad Bey alone to maintain 
 the war in Upper Egypt. t 
 
 The success which had attended Napoleon's 
 intrigues with the Knights of Malta intrigues of 
 induced him to extend his views be- Napoleon 
 yond Egj'pt, for the dismembering with AH Pa- 
 of the Turkish Empire. With this '■■''='• 
 view, he .secretly despatched his aid-de-camp 
 Lavalette to Ali Pacha, the most powerful of the 
 European vassals of the Porte, to endeavour to 
 stimulate him to revolt. He bore a letter from 
 the French general, in which Napoleon urged 
 him to enter into an immediate concert for 
 measures calculated to subvert the Ottoman Em- 
 pire.! Lavalette found Ali Pacha with the 
 army on the Danube, but, nevertheless, he con- 
 trived means to have it conveyed to him. The 
 crafty Greek, however, did not conceive the 
 power of Napoleon in Egypt sufficiently con- 
 
 * Bour., ii., 130, 135. Sav.. i., 59, 60. Las Cas., i., 222. 
 
 t Sav., i., 63. Bour., ii., 149, 150. 
 
 t " The occasion appearing to me favourable, I have hast- 
 ened to wnte you a friendly letter, and have intrusted one 
 of my aids-de-camp with its delivery with his own hands. 
 I have charged him also to make certain orertures on mx; 
 part ; and as he does not understand your language, be so 
 kind as to make use of a faithful and confidential interpreter 
 for the conversations which he will have with you. I pray 
 you to give implicit faith to whatever he may say to you oa 
 my part, and to send him back quickly with an answer, writ- 
 ten in Turkish with your own hand."— Corresp. Confid. de 
 Nap., v., 249. Lavalette's instructions from Napoleon were 
 to tell Ali '• that, after having taken possession of Malta, 
 and ruling in the Mediterranean with thirty ships of the line 
 and fifty thousand men, I wish to establish confidential rela- 
 tions with him. and to know if I can rely on his co-opera- 
 tion."— Lavalette, i., 358. 
 
512 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXT. 
 
 firmed to induce him to enter into the proposed 
 alliance, and, accordingly, this attempt to .shake 
 the throne of the Grand Signior tailed of efiect.* 
 
 While secretly conducting these intrigues, as 
 Treachery of well as openly assailing one of the 
 France towards most Valuable provinces of their 
 Turkey. empire, both Napoleon and the 
 
 Directory left nothing untried to prolong the 
 slumber of the Ottoman government, and induce 
 them to believe that the French had no hostile 
 designs whatever against them, and that they 
 "were in reality inimical only to the beys, the 
 common enemy of both. With this view, Na- 
 poleon wrote to the grand vizier a letter full of 
 assurances of the friendly dispositions both of 
 himself and his government, and the eternal alli- 
 ance of the Republic with the Mussulmans ;t 
 while Talleyrand, who had been appointed am- 
 bassador at Constantinople, received instructions 
 to exert himself to the very utmost to perpetuate 
 the same perfidious illusion. Such was the 
 ability of that able diplomatist, and of Rufhn, the 
 envoy at the Turkish capital, that for long the 
 divan shut their eyes to the obvious indications 
 which were afforded of the real designs of France. 
 Proportionally great was the general indignation 
 when accounts arrived of the invasion of Egypt, 
 and it became evident how completely they had 
 been deceived by these perfidious representations. 
 Preparations for war were made with the utmost 
 activity; the French charge d'affaires, Ruffin, 
 was sent to the Seven Towers ; and the indigna- 
 tion of the divan broke forth in one of those elo- 
 quent manifestoes, which a sense of perfidious 
 injurj' seldom fails to produce among the honest, 
 though illiterate rulers of mankind.;! 
 
 But, while everything was thus prospering on 
 
 * Hard., vi., 265, 269. Lav., i., 358. 
 
 t Napnleou's letter was ia these terms : " The French 
 army, which I have the honour to command, has entered 
 Egypt, to punish the beys for the insults they have com- 
 mitted on the French commerce. Citizen Talleyrand Peri- 
 gord, minister of foreign affairs in France, has been named, 
 on the part of France, ambassador at Constantinople, and he 
 i€ furnished with full powers to negotiate and sign the requi- 
 site treaties, to remove any difficulties that may arise from 
 the occupation of Egypt by the French army, and to consoli- 
 date the ancient and necessarj' friendship that ought to ex- 
 ist between the two powers. But as he may possibly not 
 yet have arrived at Constantinople, I lose no time in malcing 
 known to your excellency the resolution of the French gov- 
 ernment, not only to remain on terms of its ancient friend- 
 ship with the Ottoman Porte, but to procure for it a bamer 
 of which it stands so much in need against its natural ene- 
 mies, who are at this moment leaguing together for its de- 
 struction." — Despatch, 22d August, 1798 — Corresp. Conjld. 
 de Nap., vi., 3, 4. 
 
 t Hard., vi., 2T8, 280. 
 
 I) The manifesto of Turkey, which was a most able state 
 paper, bears, " On the one hand, the French 
 ra'tion'of wa/' ambassadors, resident at Constantinople, ma- 
 king use of the same dissimulation and treach- 
 ery which they have eveiywhere practised, gave to the 
 Turkish government the strongest marks of friendship, and 
 sought, by every art of dissimulation, to blind it to their real 
 designs, and induce it to come to a rupture with other 
 and friendly powers ; while, on the other, the commanders 
 and generals of the French troops in Italy, with the perfidi- 
 ous design of corrupting the subjects of his highness, have 
 never ceased to send into Romelia, the Morea, and the isl- 
 ands of the Archipelago, emissaries known for their pei-fidy 
 and dissimulation, and to spread everywhere incendiary 
 publications, tending to excite the inhabitants to revolt. 
 And now, as if to demonstrate to the world that France 
 makes no distinction between its friends and its enemies, it 
 has, in the midst of a profound peace with Turkey, and 
 while still professing to the Porte the same sentiments of 
 friendship, invaded, without either provocation, complaint, 
 or declaration of war, but after the usage of pirates. Egypt, 
 one of the most valuable provinces of the Ottoman Empire, 
 from which, to this hour, it has received only marks of 
 friendship.— See the Manifesto in HardENBERU, vi., 483, 
 493, dated 10th September, 1708. 
 
 land, a desperate reverse awaited Na- 
 poleon at sea, brought about by the Naval oper 
 
 • i- L \ -11 ■ -^ I ations. 
 
 genius 01 that illustrious man who 
 
 seemed to have been the instrument of Provi- 
 dence to balance the destiny of nations, turn from 
 Asiatic wilds to European revolution the chains 
 of military power, and preserve sale, amid the 
 western waves, the destined ark of European 
 freedom. 
 
 After having sought in vain for the French 
 fleet on the coast of Egypt, Nelson Movements of 
 retumedtoCandia, and Irom thence Nelson. Hear- 
 to Syracuse, where he obtained, rives at Alex- 
 with extraordinary rapidity, the andna. 
 supplies of which he stood so much in need. 
 The failure of his pursuit was owing to a singu- 
 lar cause. Nelson had set sail from Sicily on 
 the 2lst of June, and the French fleet oruthe I8th ; 
 nevertheless, so much more rapidly did his fleet 
 sail than his antagonists', that he passed them 
 on the voyage, and arrived at Alexandria ou 
 the 28th, two days before the French squad- 
 ron. He set sail immediately for Candia upon 
 not finding them there ; and thus, through his ac- 
 tivity and zeal, htice mis.sed the fleet of which he 
 was in search. But the time was now approach- 
 ing when his wishes were to be realized. He 
 set sail from Syracuse for the Morea on the 25th 
 of July, steered boldly through that dangerous 
 passage, the Straits of Messina, and, having re- 
 ceived intelligence in Greece that the French 
 fleet had been seen four weeks before steering 
 to the southeast from Candia, he dete mined to 
 return to Alexandria. On the 1st of 
 August, about ten in the morning, is'A^g"^'- 
 they came in sight of the Pharos ; the port had 
 been vacant and solitary when they last saw it ; 
 now it was crowded with ships, and they per- 
 ceived, with exultation, that the tricolour flag was 
 flying on the walls. The fleet of Brueys was 
 seen lying at anchor in the Bay of Aboukir. For 
 many days before, the anxiety of Nelson had 
 been such that he neither ate nor slept. He 
 now ordered dinner to be prepared, and appeared 
 in the highest spirits. " Beibre this time to- 
 morrow," said he to his officers, when leaving 
 him to take the command of their vessels, " I 
 shall have gained a peerage or Westminster 
 Abbey."* 
 
 Admiral Brueys having been detained, by Na- 
 poleon's orders, at the mouth of the Nile, , 
 and being unable to get into the harbour pos"ti?n 
 of Alexandria, had drawn up his ffeet in 
 order of battle, in a position in the Bay of Aboukir 
 so strong, that, in the opinion of his best officers, 
 the English would never venture to attack it. 
 The headmost vessel was close to the shoal on 
 the northwest, and the rest of the fleet formed a 
 sort of curve, with its concave side towards the 
 sea, and supported on the right by the batteries 
 on the fort ol Aboukir. He had done his utmost 
 to get his ships into the harbour of Alexandria; 
 but, finding that the draught of water was too 
 small for the larger vessels, he wisely determined 
 not to adopt a measure which, by di.'iuing his 
 fleet, would have exposed it to certain destruc- 
 tion. After Napoleon was fairly established in 
 Egypt by the capture of Cairo, he sent orders to 
 the admiral to go to Corfu if he could not get 
 the ships into the harbour of Alexandria ;t but, 
 till that event took place, he was in too precari- 
 
 * Dum., ii., 128. South., ii., 218, 221. 
 
 t On 30th July. See the letter of Bourrienne, ii., 329, 
 and Corr. Conf., v., 332. Bour., ii., 155, 318, 327, 333, 335. 
 South., 1., 222. Scott, iv., 77. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 513 
 
 ous a situation to deprive himself of the assist- 
 ance of his fleet; and it was then too late to 
 -escape the danger, as the English were within 
 sight of the ramparts of Alexandria. 
 
 No sooner did Nelson perceive the situation 
 of the French lleet, than he resolved 
 Nelson's plan jq penetrate between them and the 
 of attack. si^oj.^^ and in that way double with 
 his whole force on part of that of the enemy. 
 " Where there is room for the enemy to swing," 
 said he, " there must be room for us to anchor." 
 His plan was to place his fleet half on the outer 
 and lialf on the inner side of the French line, and 
 station his ships, so far as practicable, one on 
 the outer bow and another on the outer quarter 
 of each of the enemy's. Captain Berrj^, his flag 
 captain, when he was made acquainted with the 
 <iesign, exclaimed with transport, " If we suc- 
 ceed, what will the world say 1" " There is no 
 * ii"' in the case," replied Nelson; " that we shall 
 succeed is certain ; who may live to tell the story 
 is a very different question."* 
 
 The number of ships of the line on the two 
 Relative for- sides was equal, but the French had 
 ces on the two a great advantage in the size of their 
 sides. vessels; their ships carrj-ing 1196 
 
 guns and 11,230 men, wlule the English had 
 only 1012 guns and 8068 men.t The British 
 squadron consisted entirely of seventy-fours; 
 "whereas the French, besides the noble L'Orient 
 of 120 guns, had two 80-gun ships, the Franklin 
 and Guillaume Tell. J The battery on Aboukir 
 fort was mounted with four pieces of heavy can- 
 non and two mortars, besides pieces of a lighter 
 calibre. 
 
 The squadron advanced to the attack at three 
 o'clock in the afternoon. Admiral 
 Battle of the Brueys at first imagined that the bat- 
 "^' ■ tie would be deferred till the follow- 
 ing morning ; but the gallant bearing and steady 
 course of the British ships as they entered the 
 bay soon convinced him that an immediate as- 
 sault was intended. The moment was felt by 
 the bravest in both fleets ; thousands gazed in 
 silence, and with anxious hearts, on each other, 
 who were never destined again to see the sun, 
 and the shore was covered with multitudes of 
 Arabs, anxious to behold a fight on which, to all 
 appearance, the fate of their country would de- 
 pend. When the English fleet came within 
 range, they were received with a steady fire from 
 the broadsides of all the vessels and the batteries 
 on the island. It fell right on the bows of the 
 leading ships ; but, without returning a shot, they 
 bore directly down upon the enemy, the men on 
 board every vessel being employed aloft in furl- 
 ing sails, and below in tending the braces, and 
 making ready for an anchorage. Captain Foley 
 led the way in the Goliath, outsailing the Zeal- 
 ous, under Captain Hood, which for some time 
 disputed the post of honour with him ; and when 
 he reached the van of the enemy's line, he steered 
 between the outermost ship and the shoal, so as 
 to interpose between the French fleet and the 
 shore. In ten minutes he shot away the masts 
 of the Conquerant, while the Zealous, which 
 immediately followed, in the same time totally 
 disabled the Guerriere, which was next in line. 
 The other ships in that column followed in their 
 order, still inside the French line, while Nelson, 
 in the Vanguard, at the head of five ships, an- 
 chored outside of the enemy , within pistol-shot 
 
 '• South., i., 226. Jom., xi., 416. 
 
 t South., ii., 224. Jom., ii., 417. Ann. Re^., 1798, 140. 
 
 i .fames, ii., 232. 
 
 Vol. I.— T t t 
 
 of their third ship, the Spartiate. The effect of 
 this manoeuvre was to bring an overwhelming 
 force against two thirds of the enemy's squadron, 
 while the other third, moored at a distance i'lom 
 the scene of danger, could neither aid their friends 
 nor injure their enemies.* 
 
 Nelson had arranged his fleet with such skill, 
 that from the moment the ships took up their 
 positions, the victory was secure. Five ships 
 had passed the line, and anchored between the 
 first nine of the enemy and the shore, while six 
 had taken their station on the outer side of the 
 same vessels, which were thus placed between 
 two fires, and had no possibility of escape. 
 Another vessel, the Leander, was interposed 
 across the line, and cut off the vanguard from all 
 assistance from the rearmost ships of the squad- 
 ron, while her guns raked right and left those be- 
 tween which she was placed. The Culloden, 
 which came up sounding after it was dark, ran 
 aground two leagues from the hostile fleets, and, 
 notwithstanding the utmost efforts of her captain 
 and crew, could take no part in the action which 
 followed ; but her fate served as a warning to the 
 Alexander and Swiftsure, which would else have 
 infallibly struck on the shoal and perished. The 
 way in which these ships entered the bay and 
 took up their stations, amid the gloom of night, by 
 the light of the increasing cannonade, excited the 
 admiration of all who witnessed it.t 
 
 The British ships, however, had a severe fire 
 to sustain as they successively pass- Breadful na- 
 ed along the enemy's line to take ture of the 
 up their appointed stations, and the action, 
 great size of several of the French squadron ren- 
 dered them more than a match for any single 
 vessel the English could oppose to them. The 
 Vanguard, which bore proudly doM'n, bearing 
 the admiral's flag and six colours on different 
 parts of the rigging, had every man at the first 
 six guns on the forecastle killed or wounded in a 
 few minutes, and they were three times swept off 
 before the action closed. The Bellerophon drop- 
 ped her stem anchor close under the bow of the 
 L'Orient, and, notwithstanding the immense dis- 
 proportion of force, continued to engage her first- 
 rate antagonist till her own masts had all gone 
 overboard, and every oflrcer was either killed or 
 wounded, when she drifted away with the tide, 
 overwhelmed, but not subdued, a glorious monu- 
 ment of unconquerable valour. As she floated 
 along, she came close to the Swiftsure, which 
 was coming into action, and not having the 
 lights at the mizen-peak, which Nelson had or- 
 dered as a signal by which his own ships might 
 distinguish each other, she was at first mistaken 
 for an enemy. Fortunately, Captain Hallowell, 
 who commanded that vessel, had the presence of 
 mind to order his men not to fire till he ascer- 
 tained whether the hulk was a friend or an ene- 
 my, and thus a catastrophe was prevented which 
 might have proved fatal to both of these ships. 
 The station of the Bellerophon in combating the 
 L'Orient was now taken by the Swiftsure, which 
 opened at once a steady fire on the quarter of the 
 Franklin and the bows of the French admiral, 
 while the Alexander anchored on his larboard 
 quarter, and, with the Leander, completed the 
 destruction of their gigantic opponent.): 
 
 It was now dark, but both fleets were illumi- 
 
 * Southey, i., 228, 229. James, ii., 238, 239. Ann. Reg., 
 1798, 143. Uum., ii., 149 Jom., xi., 11, 17. 
 
 t Dura., ii., 130. South., i., 231. Ann. Reg., 1798, 145. 
 
 t South., i., 230, 232. Ann. Reg., 1798, 145. James, ii., 
 240, 248. jom., xi., 417, 418. 
 
514 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 nated by the incessant discharge of 
 The L'Onent ^i^ove two thousand pieces of can- 
 
 ows up. ^^^^^ ^^^ ^j^g volumes of flame and 
 smoke that rolled away from the bay gave it the 
 appearance as if a terrific volcano had suddenly 
 burst forth in the midst of the sea. Victory, how- 
 ever, soon declared for the British ; before nine, 
 three ships of the line had struck, and two were 
 dismasted ; and the flames were seen bursting 
 forth from the L'Orient, as she still continued, 
 with unabated energy, her heroic defence. They 
 spread with frightful rapidity, the fire of the 
 Swiftsure was directed with such fatal precision 
 to the burning part, that all attempts to extinguish 
 it proved inelfectual, and the masts and rigging 
 were soon wrapped in flames, which threw a 
 prodigious light over the heavens, and rendered 
 the situation of every ship in both fleets distinctly 
 visible. The sight redoubled the ardour of the 
 British seamen, by exhibiting the shattered con- 
 dition and lowered colours of so many of their 
 enemies, and loud cheers from the whole fleet 
 announced every successive flag that was struck. 
 As the fire approached the magazine of the 
 L'Orient, many officers and men jumped over- 
 board, and were picked up by the English boats ; 
 others were dragged into the portholes of the 
 nearest British ships, who for that purpose sus- 
 pended their firing ; but the greater part of the 
 crew, with heroic bravery, stood to their guns to 
 the last, and continued to fire from the lower 
 deck. At ten o'clock she blew up, with an explo- 
 sion so tremendous that nothing in ancient or 
 modem war was ever equal to it. Every ship in 
 the hostile fleets was shaken to its centre ; the 
 firing, by universal consent, ceased on both sides, 
 and the tremendous explosion was Ibllowed by a 
 silence still more awful, interrupted only, after 
 the lapse of some minutes, by the splash of the 
 shattered masts and yards falling into the water 
 from the vast height to which they had been 
 thrown. The British ships in the vicinity, with 
 admirable coolness, had made preparations to 
 avoid the conflagration ; all the shrouds and sails 
 were thoroughly wetted, and sailors stationed 
 with buckets of water to extinguish any burning 
 fragments which might fall upon their, decks. 
 By these means, although large burning masses 
 fell on the Swiftsure and Alexander, they were 
 extinguished without doing any serious damage.* 
 
 After a pause of ten minutes the firing recom- 
 Glorious vie- menced, and continued without inter- 
 tory in which mission till after midnight, when it 
 it terminates, gradually grew slacker, from the 
 shattered condition of the French ships and the 
 exhaustion of the British sailors, numbers of 
 whom fell asleep beside their guns the instant a 
 momentary cessation of loading took place. At 
 daybreak the magnitude of the victory was ap- 
 parent ; not a vestige of the L'Orient was to be 
 seen ; the frigate La Serieuse was sunk, and the 
 whole French line, with the exception of the 
 Guillaume Tell and Genereux, had struck their 
 colours. These ships having been little engaged 
 in the action, cut their cables, and stood out to 
 sea, followed by the two frigates : they were gal- 
 lantly pursued by the Zealous, which was rapid- 
 ly gaining on them; but as there was no other 
 ship of the line in a condition to support her, she 
 was recalled, and these ships escaped. Had the 
 Culloden not struck on the shoal, and the frigates 
 belonging to the squadron been present, not one 
 
 * Soulh.. i., 236, 238. James, ii., 246, 249. Ann. Re^., 
 1798,146. Miot, Exi)ed.enEg.vpte,212,217. Gautheaume's 
 Report, Cor. Conf., v., 436, 441. 
 
 of the enemy's fleet would have escaped to con.- 
 vey the mournful tidings to France.* 
 
 Early in the battle, the English admiral re- 
 ceived a severe wound on the head, -.-^ , , 
 from a piece of Langridge shot. Cap- ^^"i^ua 
 tain Berry caught him in his arms as 
 he was falling. Nelson, and all around him, 
 thought, from the great effusion of blood, that he 
 was killed. When he was carried to the cockpit, 
 the surgeon quitted the seaman whose wounds he 
 was dressing to attend to the admiral. " No," 
 said Nelson ; " I will take my turn with my 
 brave fellows." Nor would he suffer his wound 
 to be examined till every man who had previous- 
 ly been brought down was properly attended to. 
 Fully believing that the wound was mortal, and 
 that he was about to die, as he had ever desired, 
 in the moment of victory, he called for the chap- 
 lain, and desired him to deliver what he con- 
 ceived to be his dying remembrance to Lady 
 Nelson ; and, seizing a pen, contrived to write a 
 few words, marking his devout sense of the suc- 
 cess which had already been obtained. When 
 the surgeon came in due time to inspect the 
 wound — for no entreaties could prevail on him 
 to let it be examined sooner — the most anxious 
 silence prevailed ; and the joy of the wounded 
 men, and of the whole crew, when they found the 
 injury was only superficial, gave Nelson deeper 
 pleasure than the unexpected assurance that his 
 own life was in no danger. When the cry rose 
 that the L'Orient was on fire, he contrived to 
 make his way, alone and unassisted, to the quar- 
 ter-deck, where he instantly gave orders that boats 
 should be despatched to the relief of the enemy. t 
 
 Nor were heroic deeds confined to the British 
 squadron. Most of the captains of Heroic deeds 
 the French fleet were killed or wound- m the French 
 ed, and they all fought with the en- squadron. 
 thusiastic courage which is characteristic of 
 their nation. The captain of the Tonnant, Petit 
 Thouars, when both his legs were carried away 
 by a cannon ball, refused to quit the quarter-deck, 
 and made his crew swear not to strike their col- 
 ours as long as they had a man capable of stand- 
 ing to their guns. Admiral Brueys died the 
 death of the brave on his quarter-deck, exhorting 
 his men to continue the combat to the last ex- 
 tremity. Casa Bianca, captain of the L'Orient, 
 fell mortally wounded, when the flames were de- 
 vouring that splendid vessel ; his son, a boy of 
 ten years of age, was combating beside him when 
 he was struck, and, embracing his father, reso- 
 lutely refused to quit the ship, though a gunboat 
 was come alongside to bring him off. He con- 
 trived to bind his dying parent to the mast, which 
 had fallen into the sea, and floated off with the 
 precious charge;! he was seen after the explosion 
 by some of the British squadron, who made the 
 utmost efforts to save his life ; but, in the agita- 
 tion of the waves following that dreadful event, 
 both were swallowed up and seen no more.§ 
 
 * James, 249, 251. South., i., 238, 240. Ann. Re?., 1798, 
 146, 147. t South., 1., 234, 235, 236. 
 
 1 Dura., li., 151, 152. James, ii., 236, 237. 
 
 I) Napoleon addressed the following noble letter to Mad- 
 ame Brueys on her husband's death : " Your husljand has 
 been killed by a cannon ball while combating on his quarter- 
 deck. He died without suffering ; the death the most easy 
 and the most envied by the biave. I feel warmly for your 
 grief. The moment which separates us from the object 
 which we love is terrible ; we feel isolated on the earth ; we 
 almost experience the convulsions of the last agony ; the 
 faculties of the soul are annihilated ; its connexion withthe- 
 earth is preserved only across a veil which distorts every- 
 thing. We feel in such a situation that there is nothing 
 which yet binds us to life ; that it were far \)etter to die ; but 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE, 
 
 515 
 
 Such was the battle of the Nile, for which he 
 
 who gained it feU that victory was 
 
 Great results ^ feeble a word ; he called it con- 
 
 Of the victory. ^ r^r^l.- ^ l- r ^l. t 
 
 quest. Of thirteen ships of the line, 
 nine were taken and two burned ; ol four frigates, 
 one was sunk and one burned. The British loss 
 "was eight hundred and ninety-five in killed and 
 ■wounded ; they had to lament the death of only 
 one commander. Captain Westcolt, a brave and 
 able officer. Of the French, five thousand two 
 hundred and twenty-five perished, and three thou- 
 sand one hundred and five were taken and sent 
 on shore, including the wounded, with all their 
 eflects, on their parole not to serve again till reg- 
 ularly exchanged; an act of humanity which was 
 ill requited by Napoleon, who incorporated the 
 whole who were capable of bearing arms into a 
 regiment of his army.*t The annals of the world 
 do not aiford an example of so complete an over- 
 throw of so great an armament. 
 
 The Arabs and Egyptians lined the shores du- 
 Temble tra- ring this terrible engagement, and 
 ces of the ac- beheld with mingled terror and as- 
 tiou on shore, touishment the destruction which 
 the Europeans were inflicting on each other. 
 The beach, for an extent of four leagues, was 
 covered with wreck, and innumerable bodies 
 •were seen floating in the bay, in spite of the ut- 
 most exertions of both fleets to sink them. No 
 sooner, however, was the conquest completed, 
 than a perfect stillness pervaded the whole squad- 
 ron; it was the moment of the thanksgiving, 
 "which, by orders of Nelson, was offered up 
 through all the fleet, for the signal success which 
 the Almighty had vouchsafed to the British 
 arms. The French prisoners remarked that it 
 was no wonder such order was preserved in the 
 English navy, when at such an hour, and after 
 such a victor}', their minds could be impressed 
 "with such sentiments.! 
 
 Had Nelson possessed a few frigates or bomb- 
 vessels, the whole transports and small craft in 
 the harbour of Alexandria might have been de- 
 stroyed in a few hours. So severely did he feel 
 the want of them at this period, that in a de- 
 spatch to the admiralty he declared, " Were I to 
 die at this moment, 7oant of frigates would be 
 found engraven on my heart !" The want of 
 such light vessels, however, rendered any attack 
 on the shipping in the shoal water of Alexandria 
 perfectly impossible ; and it was not without the 
 utmost exertions and the united co-operation of 
 all the oflicers and men, that the fleet was refit- 
 
 ■when, after such first and unavoidable throes, we press our 
 children to our hearts, tears and more tender sentiments 
 arise ; life becomes bearable for their sakes. Yes, madame, 
 they will open the fountains of your heart ; you will watch 
 their childhood, educate their youth ; you will speak to 
 them of their father, of your present grief, and of the loss 
 which they and the Republic have sustained in his death. 
 After having resumed the interest in life by the chord of ma- 
 ternal love, you will perhaps feel some consolation from the 
 friendship and warm interest which I shall ever take in the 
 ■widow of my friend."— Correi. Conf., v., 383. 
 
 * James, ii., 254. 255. South., i., 240. Dum., ii., 152, 
 153. James, ii., 265. Sav., i., 65. 
 
 t " The English," says Kleber, " have had the disinter- 
 estedness to restore everything to their prisoners ; they 
 would not permit an iota to be taken from them. The con- 
 sequence was, that they display in Alexandria a luxury and 
 elegance which exhibit a strange contrast to the destitute 
 condition of the land-forces."— flMpa^c/f to Napoleon, 21(1 of 
 Aug., I79S— BouRRiENNE. ii., 160. The wounded French 
 sent ashore are stated by Admiral Gantheaume, in his offi- 
 cial report, to amount to nearly eight thousand ; an aston- 
 ishing number, if correct, considering that the whole French 
 crews in the action did not exceed twelve thousand.— See 
 Ganthcaume^s Report— Corresp. Confid. de Napoleon, v., 463. 
 
 t South., i., 241. 
 
 ted so far as to be able to proceed to sea. Hav- 
 ing at length, however, overcome every obstacle, 
 and despatched an overland messenger to Bom- 
 bay, to acquaint the government there with his 
 success, he set sail from Aboukir Bay on the 
 18th of August, leaving three ships of the line to 
 blockade the harbour of Alexandria. Three of 
 the prizes, being perfect wrecks, were burned; 
 the remaining six arrived in safety at Gibraltar.* 
 Honours and rewards were showered by a 
 grateful nation upon the heroes of Honours be- 
 the Nile. Nelson was created Bar- stowed upon 
 on Nelson of the Nile, with a pen- Nelson, 
 sion of X'iOOO a year to himself and his two 
 immediate successors; the Grand Signior, the 
 Emperor of Russia, the King of Sardinia, the 
 King of Naples, the East India Company, 
 made him magnificent presents ; and his name 
 was embalmed forever in the recollection of 
 his grateful country. With truth did Mr. Pitt 
 observe in Parliament, when reproached for not 
 conferring on him a higher dignity, "Admiral 
 Nelson's fame will be coequal with the British 
 name, and it will be remembered that he gained 
 the greatest naval victory on record, when no 
 man will think of asking whether he had been 
 created a baron, a viscount, or an earl.'Ht 
 
 * James, ii., 266, 267. South., i., 255, 257. 
 
 t Pari. Hist., xxxiii., p. 1560. South., i., 249. 
 
 t Napoleon, who never failed to lay every misfortune with 
 which he was connected upon fortune, destiny, or the faults 
 of others, rather than his own errors, has laboured to excul- 
 pate himself from the disaster in Aboukir Bay, and declared, 
 in his official despatch to the Directory, that on July 6, be- 
 fore leaving Alexandria, he wrote to Admiral Brueys, di- 
 recting him to retire within the harbour of that town, or, if 
 that was impossible, make the best of his way to Corfu,''^ 
 and that the catastrophe arose from his disobedience. It is 
 true he sent an order, but it was conditional, and as fol- 
 lows : " Admiral Brueys will cause the fleet, in the course 
 of to-morrow, to enter the old harbour of Napoleon's cor- 
 Alexandria, if the time permits, and there is respondence with 
 sufficient depth of water. If there is not in Braeys as to get- 
 the harbour sufficient draught, he will take *["« 'he fleet into 
 such measures that, during the course of to- ''^^ "^' 
 morrow, he may have disembarked the artillery and stores, 
 and the individuals belonging to the army, retaining only a 
 hundred soldiers in each ship of the line, and forty in each 
 frigate. The admiral, in the course of to-morrow, will let 
 the general know whether the squadron can get into Alex- 
 andria, or can defend itself, while lying in the Roads of 
 Aboukir, against a superior enemy ; and if it can do neither 
 of these things, it will make the best of its way to Corfu, 
 leaving at Alexandria only the Dubois and Causse, with the 
 Diana, Juno, Alcestes, and Arthemise frigates."! The or- 
 der to proceed to Corfu, therefore, was conditional ; to take 
 effect only on failure to get into Alexandria, or find a defen- 
 sible roadstead ; and, from the following letters, it appears 
 that Brueys, with the full knowledge of the general-in-chief, 
 proceeded to adopt the prior alternative of taking up a defen- 
 sive position at Aboukir. The day before, Brueys had writ- 
 ten to Napoleon : " All the accounts I have hitherto receiv- 
 ed are unsatisfactory as to the possibility of getting into the 
 harbour, as the bar has only twenty-two feet six inches, 
 which our smallest seventy -four's draw, so that entry is im- 
 possible. My present position is untenable, by reason of the 
 rocks with which the bottom of the bay is strewed ; and if 
 attacked, I should be infallibly destroyed by the enemy if I 
 had the misfortune to await them in this place. The only- 
 thing that I see practicable is, to taks shelter tn the moorings 
 of Beckier (Aboukir), where the bottom is good, and I could 
 take such a position as would render me secure from the 
 enemy."t On the 6th of July, Brueys wrote to Napoleon, 
 in addition to his letter of the 2d : " i have neglected noth- 
 ing which might permit the ships of the line to get into the 
 old port ; but it is a labour which requires much time and 
 patience. The loss of a single vessel is too considerable to 
 allow anything to be permitted to hazard ; and hitherto it 
 appears that we cannot attempt such a measure without in- 
 curring the greatest dangers ; that is the opinion of all the 
 most experienced officers on board the fleet. Admiral Ville- 
 neuve and Casa Bianca regard it as impossible. 'When I 
 have sounded the roadstead of Beckier, I will send you a re- 
 port of that road. "Want of provisions is severely felt in the 
 
 « Nap., ii., 170. t Letter, 3d July, 1793. J Letter, 2d July, 1798. 
 
516 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXY. 
 
 The battle of the Nile was a mortal stroke to 
 Disastrous Napoleon and the French army. He 
 effects of this was too clear-sighted not to perceive 
 blow to the the fatal and irremediable nature of 
 French army, j^g i^gg ^hg^g incurred. It had been 
 his design, after the conquest of Egj^pt was se- 
 cured, to embark a great proportion of his forces, 
 return to Toulon, and employ them on some 
 other and still greater expedition against the 
 power of England. By this irreparable loss he 
 found these prospects forever blasted ; the army 
 
 fleet ; on board many vessels there is only biscuit for four- 
 -thJ 1 **'''" days." On the 7th of July he again wrote 
 to Napoleon: "I thank you for the precaution you 
 have taken m sending engineer and artillery officers to meet 
 me in the Bay of Bcckier. I shall concert measures with 
 them as soon as we are moored, and if I am fortunate enough 
 to discover a position where batteries on shore may protect 
 the two extremities of my line, I shall regard the position 
 as impregnable, at least during summer and autumn. It is 
 the more desirable to remain there, because I can set sail en 
 masse when I think fit ; whereas, even if I could get into 
 the harbour of Alexandria, I should be blockaded by a single 
 vessel of the enemy, and should be unable to contribute any- 
 thing to your glory." On the 13th of July he 
 
 ^^' again wrote to Napoleon ; " I am fortifying my 
 yosition, in case of being obliged to combat at anchor. I 
 have demanded two mortars from Alexandria to put on the 
 sandbank ; but I am less apprehensive of that than the 
 other extremity of the line, against which the principal ef- 
 forts of the enemy will in all probability be directed." And 
 26th J I- °'"- '■'^^ ~^^^ °^ ■''^'y Erueys wrote again to him : 
 
 " *■ " The officers whom I have charged with the 
 sounding of the port have at length announced that their 
 labours are concluded ; I shall forthwith transmit the 
 plan, when I have received it, that you may decide what ves- 
 
 30lh J 1 ^'^^^ '"'^ '" ^^^"-'^ '-*'' ''^^ ^'^'^i Napoleon wrote 
 " ^' in answer : " I have received all your letters. The 
 intelligence which I have received of the soundings induces 
 me to believe that you are by this time safely in the port ;"* 
 and ordered him forthwith to do so, or proceed to Corfu. 
 On the day after this last letter was written. Nelson's fleet 
 attacked Brueys in the Bay of Aboukir. Napoleon, there- 
 fore, was perfectly aware that the fleet was lying in Abou- 
 kir Bay ; and it was evidently retained there by his orders 
 or with his approbation, as a support to the army, or a 
 means of retreat in case of disaster. In truth, such was the 
 penury of the country, that the fleet could not lay in provis- 
 ions at Alexandria to enable it to stand out to sea.f He 
 was too able a man, besides, to hazard such an army with- 
 out any means of retreat in an unknown country ; and Bour- 
 rienne declares, that previous to the taking of Cairo, he of- 
 ten talked with him on re-embarking the army, and laughed 
 himself at the false colours in which he had represented the 
 matter to the Directory.!: It is proved, by indisputable evi- 
 dence, that the fleet was detained by the orders or with the 
 concurrence of Napoleon. "It may perhaps be said," says 
 Admiral Gantheaume, the second in command, who survi- 
 ved the defeat, " that it would have been more prudent to 
 have quitted the coast after the debarcation was effected ; 
 but, considering the orders of the commander-in-chief, and 
 the incalculable support which the fleet gave to the land- 
 forces, the admiral conceived it to be his duty not to aban- 
 don those seas.l) Brueys also said to Lavalette, in Aboukir 
 Bay, on the 21st of July, " Since I could not get into the 
 old harbour of Alexandria, nor retire from the coast of 
 Egypt without news from the army, I have established 
 myself here in as strong a position as I could. "11 The in- 
 ference to be drawn from these documents is, that neither 
 Napoleon nor Brueys was to blame for the disaster which 
 happened in Atoukir Bay ; that the former ordered the 
 fleet to enter Alexandria, or take a defensible position, and 
 if he could do neither, then proceed to Corfu ; but that the 
 latter was unable, from the limited draught of water at the 
 bar, to do the one, and, agreeably to his orders, attempted 
 the other ; that it lay at Aboukir Bay with the full knowl- 
 edge of the general-in-chief, and without his being able to 
 prevent it, though his penetration in the outset perceived 
 the danger to which it was exposed in so doing ; and that 
 the only real culpability in the case is imputable to Napo- 
 leon, in having endeavoured, after Brueys' death, to black- 
 en his character, by representing the disaster to the Direc- 
 tory as exclusively imputable to that oflicer, and as having 
 arisen from his disobedience of orders, when, in fact, it arose 
 from extraneous circumstances, over which the admiral had 
 no control, having rendered it necessary for him to adopt the 
 second alternative prescribed to him by his commander. 
 
 * Corresp. Conf., v., 192, 194, 200, 201, 222, 237, 256, 332, 404. 
 
 ♦ Bour., li , 144. 1 Bour., ii.. 144, 155, 3i5,336. 
 i Hard., vi., 89. 1 Lav., i., 274. 
 
 exiled, without hope of return, on an inhospitable 
 shore, all means of preserving his recent con- 
 quest frustrated, and himself destined, to all ap- 
 pearance, instead of changing the face of the 
 world, to maintain an inglorious and hopeless 
 struggle in a corner of the Turkish Empire. All 
 his dreams of European conquests and Oriental 
 revolutions appeared at once to vanish, by the 
 destruction of the resources from which they 
 were to be realized; and nothing remained but 
 the painful certainty that he had doomed to a 
 lingering fate the finest army of the Republic, 
 and endangered its independence by the sacrifice 
 of so large a portion of its defenders. But though 
 in secret overwhelmed by the disas- courage of 
 ter, he maintained in public the ap- Napoleon and 
 pearance of equanimity, and suffered Kieber. 
 nothing to escape his lips which could add to the 
 discouragement of his soldiers. " Well," said 
 he, " we must remain here, or issue from it equal 
 in grandeur to the ancients." '• Yes," replied 
 Kieber, " we must do great things. I am pre- 
 paring my mind to go through them."* 
 
 But while the chiefs of the army thus endeav- 
 oured to conceal the gloomy presen- Despair of the 
 timents which overwhelmed their inferior oflScers 
 minds, the inferior officers and sol- '"^'^ soldiers, 
 diers knew no bounds to the despair with which 
 they were filled. Already, before they reached 
 Cairo, the illusion of the expedition had been 
 dispelled ; the riches of the East had given place 
 to poverty and suffering ; the promised land had 
 turned out an arid wilderness. But when intelli- 
 gence arrived of the destruction of the fleet, and 
 with it of all hope of returning to France, except 
 as prisoners of war, they gave vent to such loud 
 complaints, that it required all the firmness of 
 the generals to prevent a sedition breaking out. 
 Many soldiers, in despair, blew out their brains ; 
 others threw themselves into the Nile, and per- 
 ished, with their arms and baggage. When the 
 generals passed by, the cry, " There go the mur- 
 derers of the French," involuntarily burst from 
 the ranks. By degrees, however, this stunning 
 misfortune, like every other disaster in life, was 
 softened by time. The soldiers, deprived of the 
 possibility of returning, ceased to disquiet them- 
 selves about it, and ultimately they resigned 
 themselves with much greater composure to a 
 continued residence in Egypt, than they could 
 liave done had the fleet remained to keep alive 
 forever in their breasts the desire of retiuiiing to 
 their native country.t 
 
 The consequences of the battle of the Nile 
 were to the last degree disastrous to jj ^^ ^^^^ 
 France, Its effects in Europe were brings on a 
 immense, by reviving, as will be de- war between 
 tailed hereafter, the coalition against France and 
 its Republican government; but in "'"''y- 
 the East, it at once brought on the Egyptian ar- 
 ray the whole weight of the Ottoman Empire. 
 The French ambassador at Constantinople had 
 found great difficulty for long in restraining the 
 indignation of the sultan ; the good sense of the 
 Turks could not easily be persuaded that it was 
 an act of friendship to the Porte to invade one 
 of the most important provinces of the Empire, 
 destroy its militia, and subject its inhabitants to 
 the dominion of a European power. No sooner, 
 therefore, was the divan at liberty to speak their 
 real sentiments, by the destruction of the arma- 
 ment which had so long spread terror through 
 
 * Th., I., 138. 139. Miot, 79. Bour., ii., 133, 135. 
 t Bour., ii., 134, 138. Sav., i., 65. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 517 
 
 the Levant, than they gave vent to their indigna- 
 tion. War was formally declared 
 30th Sept. agajust France, the differences with 
 Russia adjusted, and the formation of an army 
 immediately decreed to restore the authority of 
 the Crescent on the banks of the Nile.* 
 
 Among the many wonders of this eventful 
 Passage of the period, not the least surprising was 
 Hellespont by the alliance which the French in- 
 the Russian vasion of Egypt produced between 
 fleet. Turkey and Russia, and the sus- 
 
 pension of all the ancient animosity between the 
 Christians and Mussulmans in the pressure of 
 a danger common to both. This soon led to an 
 event so extraordinary, that it produced a pro- 
 found impression even on "the minds of the Mus- 
 sulman spectators. On the 1st of September, a 
 Russian fleet, of ten ships of the line and eight 
 frigates, entered the canal of the Bosphorus, and 
 united at the Golden Horn with the Turkish 
 squadron; from whence the combined force, in 
 presence of an immense concourse of spectators, 
 whose acclamations rent the skies, passed under 
 the walls of the seraglio, and swept majestically 
 through the classic streams of the Hellespont. 
 The effect of the passage of so vast an armament 
 through the beautiful scenery of the straits, was 
 much enhanced by the brilliancy of the sun, 
 which shone in unclouded splendour on its full- 
 spread sails ; the placid surface of the water re- 
 flected alike the Russian masts and the Turkish 
 minarets; and the multitude, both European and 
 Mussulman, were never weary of admiring the 
 magnificent spectacle, which so forcibly imprint- 
 ed upon their minds a sense of the extraordinary 
 alliance which the French Ptcvolution had pro- 
 duced, and the slumber in which it had plunged 
 national antipathies the most violent, and religi- 
 ous discord the most inveterate.t 
 
 The combined squadrons, not being required 
 on the coast of Egypt, steered for the island of 
 Corfu, and immediately established a rigorous 
 blockade of its fortress and noble harbour, which 
 soon began to feel the want of provisions. Al- 
 ready, without any formal treaty, the courts of 
 St. Petersburg, London, and Constantinople acted 
 in concert, and the bases of a triple alliance were 
 laid, and sent to their respective courts for ratifi- 
 cation.! 
 
 The situation of the French army was now in 
 
 r •,■ 1 ■. the highest degree critical. Isolated 
 Cntical situa- . 9 . '^ . ui •.!_ .. 
 
 tioii of the from their country, unable either to 
 
 French army, obtain SUCCOUrS from homC, or to re- 
 Vast efforts of gain it in case of disaster, pres.sed 
 Napoleon. ^^^ blockaded by the fleets of Eng- 
 land, in the midst of a hostile population, they 
 were about to he exposed to the formidable forces 
 of the Turkish Empire. In these discouraging 
 circumstances, the firmness of Napoleon, so far 
 from forsaking, only prompted him to redouble 
 his etforts to establish his authority firmly in the 
 conquered country. The months which imme- 
 diately followed the destruction of the fleet were 
 marked by an extraordinary degree of activity in 
 every department. At Alexandria, Rosetta, and 
 Cairo, mills were established, in which flour was 
 ground as finely as at Paris ; hospitals were 
 formed, where the sick were treated with the 
 most sedulous care by the distinguished talents 
 of Larrey and Desgenettes; a foundry, where 
 cannon were cast, and a manufactory of gun- 
 powder and saltpetre, rendered the army inde- 
 pendent of external aid for its ammunition and 
 
 * Th., X.. 143. Bum., li., IBO, 161. Hard,, vi., 300. 
 Nap., ii., 172. t HarJ.^ vi., 298, 299. t Id., vi., 300. 
 
 artillery. An institute at Cairo, formed on the 
 model of that at Paris, concentrated the labours 
 of the numerous scientific persons who accom- 
 panied the army ; the geography, antiquities, 
 hieroglyphics, and natural history of Egypt, be- 
 gan to be studied with an accuracy unknown in 
 modem times ; the extremities and line of the 
 canal of Suez were explored by Napoleon in per- 
 son, with the most extraordinary ardoui' ; a 
 flotilla formed on the Nile ; printing presses set 
 agoing at Cairo; the cavalry and artillery re- 
 moixnted with the admirable horses of Arabia, 
 the troops equipped in new clothing, manufac- 
 tured in the country ; the fortifications of Rosetta, 
 Damietta, Alexandria, and Salahieh, put in a 
 respectable posture of defence ; while the skilful 
 draughtsmen who accompanied the expedition 
 prepared, amid the wonders of Upper Egypt, the 
 magnificent work which, under the auspices of 
 Denon, has immortalized the expedition.* 
 
 As soon as the inundation of the Nile- had 
 subsided, Desaix commenced his Expedition of 
 march to Upper Egj'pt, to pursue Des.iix to Up- 
 the broken remains of Mourad Bey's per Egypt, 
 corps. On the 7th of October he came up with 
 the enemy, consisting of four thousand Mame- 
 lukes and Arabs, and six thousand fellahs, sta- 
 tioned in the village of Sidiman. The French, 
 were not more than two thousand three hundred 
 strong ; they formed three squares, and received 
 the charges as at the battle of the Pyramids, of; 
 which this action in all its parts was a repetitioa 
 on a smaller scale. The smallest square, how- 
 ever, was broken by the impetuous shock of the 
 Mamelukes ; but the soldiers, with admirable 
 presence of mind, fell on their faces, so that the 
 loss was not so great as might have been expect- 
 ed.t All the efforts of the cavalry failed against 
 the steady sides of the larger squares ; and at 
 length, the Mamelukes being broken and disper- 
 sed, the village was stormed with great slaughter, 
 and the soldiers returned to take a severe ven- 
 geance on a body of the enemy, who, during the 
 assault, had committed great carnage on those 
 wounded in the broken square. This action was 
 more bloody than any which had yet occurred 
 in Egypt, the French having lost three hundred 
 and forty men killed, and one hundred and sixty" 
 wounded ; a great proportion, when every lil!e 
 was precious, and no means of replacing it ex- 
 isted.j It was decisive, however, of the fate of 
 Upper Egypt. Desaix continued steadily to ad- 
 vance, driving his indefatigable opponents con- 
 tinually before him ; the rose-covered fields of ■ 
 Faioum, the Lake Moeris, the City of the Dead, 
 were successively visited ; another cloud of 
 Mamelukes was dispersed by the rolling fire of 
 the French at Samanhout ; and at length the ra- 
 ins of Luxor opened to their view, and the as- 
 tonished soldiers gazed on the avenues of sphinx- 
 es, gigantic remains of temples, obelisks, and 
 sepulchral monuments, which are destined to 
 perpetuate to the end of the world the glories of 
 the city of Thebes.§ i 
 
 * Bum., li,, 172, 173, 184, 185. Sav., i., 66, 67. Eour., 
 ii., 162, 163, Th,, x., 142, 143, 
 
 t On this, as on other occasions, the scientific characters 
 and draughtsmen who attended the army were huddled, 
 with the bag-?age, into the centre, as the only place of se- 
 curity, the moment that the enemy appeared. No sooner 
 were the Mameluke horse descried, than the word was giv- 
 en, " Form square ; artillery to the angles ; asses and savans 
 to the centre ;" a command which afforded no small merri- 
 ment to the soldiers, and made them call the asses demi-sa- 
 uans.— Las Casas, i,, 225, 
 
 t Sav., 1,, 69, 70, Th,, x., 379, 380. 
 
 ^ Sav,, i,, 70, 91. Joni,, xi., 422. 
 
518 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 While Desaix was thus extending the French 
 Bloody sup- dominion towards the cataracts of 
 pressionofa the Nile, a dangerous insurrection 
 revolt at Ca- was extinguished in blood in the cen- 
 "°- tre of Egypt. Notwithstanding all 
 
 the efforts of Napoleon to conciliate the Mussul- 
 man population, the beys still retained a consid- 
 erable influence over them, and the declaration 
 of war by the Porte revived the spirit of reli- 
 gious hostility, which he had been at such pains 
 to allay. In the end of October the in- 
 surrection broke out, at a time when the 
 French were so far from suspecting their dan- 
 ger that they had very few troops within the 
 town. Dupuis, the commander ot the city, who 
 proceeded with a feeble escort to quell the tu- 
 mult, was slain, with several of his officers ; a 
 vast number of insulated Frenchmen were mur- 
 dered, and the house of General Cafiarelli was 
 besieged and forced. The alarvic was imme- 
 diately beat in the streets, several battalions in 
 the neighbourhood entered the town, the citadel 
 began to bombard the most populous quarters, 
 and the Turks, driven into the principal mosques, 
 prepared for a desperate resistance. During the 
 night they barricaded their posts, and the Arabs 
 advanced from the Desert to support their efforts ; 
 but it was all in vain. The French command- 
 er drove back the Bedouins into the inundation 
 of the Nile, the mosques were forced, the build- 
 ings which sheltered the insurgents battered 
 down or destroyed, and, after the slaughter of 
 above five thousand of the inhabitants, and the 
 conflagration of a considerable pai't of the city, 
 Cairo submitted to the conqueror. This terri- 
 ble disaster, with the cruel executions which fol- 
 lowed it, struck such a terror into the Moham- 
 medan population, that they never after made 
 the smallest attempt to get quit oi the French 
 authority.* 
 
 Meanwhile, Napoleon made an expedition in 
 Expedition of person to Suez, in order to inspect the 
 Napoleou to line of the Roman canal which uni- 
 the Red Sea. ted the Mediterranean and the Red 
 Sea. At Suez he visited the harbour, and gave 
 orders for the construction of new works and 
 the formation of an infant marine, and passed 
 the Red Sea in a diy channel, when the tide 
 was out, on the identical passage which had 
 been traversed three thousand years before by 
 the children of Israel. Having refreshed him- 
 self at the fountains which still bear the name 
 of the "Wells of Moses, at the foot of Mount 
 Sinai, and visited a great reservoir, constructed 
 by the Venitians in the sixteenth century, he re- 
 turned to recross to the African side. It was 
 dark when he reached the shore ; and in cross- 
 ing the sands, as the tide was flowing, they wan- 
 dered from the right path, and were for some 
 time exposed to the most imminent danger. Al- 
 ready the water was up to their middle, and still 
 rapidly flowing, when the presence of mind of 
 IS^apoleon extricated them from their perilous 
 situation. He caused one of his escort to go in 
 every direction, and shout when he found the 
 depth of water increasing, and that he had lost 
 his footing ; by this means it was discovered in 
 what quarter the slope of the shore ascended, and 
 the party at length gained the coast of Egypt. 
 •' Had I perished in that manner like Pharaoh," 
 said Napoleon, " it would have furnished all the 
 preachers of Christendom with a magnificent 
 text against me."t 
 
 ♦ Dum., ii., 176, 177. Jom., x.,4':23, 424. Bour., ii., 182. 
 t Bour., ii., 195, 196. Las Cas., i., 220. Sav., i., 99. 
 
 The suppression of the revolts drew from Na- 
 poleon one of those singular procla- Extraordinary 
 mations which are so characteristic proclamation 
 of the vague ambition of his mind : of Napoleon. 
 " Scheiks, ulemats, orators of the mosque, teach 
 the people that those who become my enemies 
 shall have no refuge in this world or the next. 
 Is there any one so blind as not to see that I am 
 the Man of Destiny 1 Make the people under- 
 stand that, from the beginning of time, it ^ 
 was ordained that, having destroyed the 
 enemies of Islamism, and vanquished the Cross, 
 I should come from the distant parts of the West 
 to accomplish my destined task. Show them 
 that in twenty passages of the Koran my coming 
 is foretold. I could demand a reckoning from 
 each of you of the most secret thoughts of his 
 soul, since to me everj'thing is known ; but the 
 day will come when all shall know from whom 
 I derived my commission, and that human ef- 
 forts cannot prevail against me." Thus did Na- 
 poleon expect that he was to gain the confidence 
 of the Mussulmans, at the very time when he 
 was executing thirty of their number a day, and 
 throwing their corpses, in sacks, every night into 
 the Nile.*t 
 
 Being now excluded from all intercourse with. 
 Europe, and menaced with a serious He resolves 
 attack by land and sea from the to penetrate 
 Turks, Napoleon resolved to assail 'i'" Syna. 
 his enemies by an expedition into Syria, where 
 the principal army of the sultan was assembling. 
 Prudence prescribed that he should anticipate 
 the enemy, and not wait till, having assembled 
 their strength, a preponderating force was ready 
 to fall upon the French army. But it was not 
 merely defensive operations that the general 
 contemplated ; his arden: mind, now thrown upon 
 its own resources, and deprived of all assistance 
 from Europe, indulged in visions of Oriental 
 conquest. To advance into Syria with 
 a part of his troops, and rouse the popu- je'sl^' 
 lation of that country and Asia Minor 
 against the Turkish rule ; assemble an army of 
 fifteen thousand French veterans, and a hundred 
 thousand Asiatic auxiliaries on the Euphrates, 
 and overawe at once Persia, Turkey, and India, 
 formed the splendid project which filled his im- 
 agination. His eyes were continually fixed on 
 the deserts which separated Asia Minor from 
 Persia ; he had sounded the dispositions of the 
 Persian court, and ascertained that, for a sum 
 of money, they were willing to allow the passage 
 of his army through their territories; and he 
 confidently expected to renew the march of Alex- 
 ander, from the shores of the Nile to those of the 
 Ganges. Having overrun India and established 
 a colossal reputation, he projected returning to 
 Europe ; attacking Turkey and Austria with the 
 whole forces of "the East, and establishing an 
 empire, greater than that of the Romans, in the 
 centre of European civilization. Full j^^^ g j^gg 
 of these ideas, he wrote to Tippoo ' ' 
 Saib that " he had arrived on the shores of the 
 Red Sea with an innumerable and invincible 
 army, and inviting him to send a confidential 
 
 * Mint, 106. Scott, IV., 86. Th., x., 394. 
 
 t " Every night," said Napoleon, in a letter to Regnier, 
 " we cut off thirty heads, and those of several chiefs ; that 
 will teach them, I think, a good lesson." The victims were 
 put to death in prison, thrust into sacks, and thrown into 
 the Nile. This continued six days after tranquillity was 
 restored.* The executions were continued for long after, 
 and under circumstances that will admit of neither extenu- 
 ation nor apology. 
 
 Bour., ii., 1S4. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 519 
 
 ■person to Suez, to concert measures for the de- 
 struction of the British power in Hindostan."* 
 The forces, however, which the French gen- 
 eral could command for the Syrian 
 ■Limited extent expedition, were by no means com- 
 mensurate to these magnificent 
 projects. They consisted only of thirteen thou- 
 sand men ; for although the army had been re- 
 cruited by the three thousand prisoners sent 
 back by the British after the battle of the Nile, 
 and almost all the sailors of the transports, yet 
 such were the losses which had been sustained 
 (Since the period when they landed, by fatigiie, 
 sickness, and the sword, that no larger number 
 could be spared from the defence of Egypt. 
 These, with nine hundred cavalry and forty- 
 nine pieces of cannon, constituted the whole 
 force with which Napoleon expected to change 
 the face of the world, while the reserves left on 
 the banks of the Nile did not exceed in all six- 
 teen thousand men. The artillery destined for 
 the siege of Acre, the capital of the Pacha Djez- 
 Ear, was put on board three frigates at Alexan- 
 dria, and orders despatched to Villeneuve, at 
 Malta, to endeavour to escape the vigilance of 
 the English cruisers, and come to support the 
 maritime operations.t 
 
 On the 11th of February, the army commenced 
 llth F b ^'^ march over the desert which separ- 
 ates Africa from Asia. The track, oth- 
 erwise imperceptible amid the blowing sand, was 
 distinctly marked by innumerable skeletons of 
 men and animals, which had perished on that 
 solitary pathway, the line of communication be- 
 tween Asia and Africa, which, from the earliest 
 limes, had been frequented by the human race. 
 Six days afterward. Napoleon reached El-Arish, 
 •where the camp of the Mamelukes was surprised 
 during the night, and after a siege of two days 
 Jhe fort capitulated. The sufferings of the 
 troops, however, were extreme in 
 SwarDesert! Crossing the Desert ; the excessive 
 heat of the weather and the want of 
 ■water produced the greatest discontent among 
 "the soldiers, and Napoleon felt the necessity of 
 i>ringing his men as rapidly as possible through 
 that perilous district. The gaiTison were con- 
 veyed as prisoners in the rear of the army, which 
 augmented their difficulty in obtaining subsist- 
 28th March ^'^ce. Damas was abandoned by the 
 Mussulman forces at the sight of the 
 French squares of infantry, and at length the 
 granite pillars were passed which marked the 
 confines of Asia and Africa ; the hitherto clear 
 end glowing sky was streaked by a veil of 
 clouds, some drops of rain refreshed the parched 
 lips of the soldiers, and the suffering troops be- 
 held the green valleys and wood-covered hills of 
 Syria. The soldiers at first mistook them for 
 the mirage of the Desert, which had so often dis- 
 appointed their hopes ; they hardly ventured to 
 trust their owm eyes when they beheld woods 
 and water, green meadows and olive groves, 
 and all the features of European scenery ; but at 
 length the appearance of verdant slopes and 
 clear brooks convinced them that they had pass- 
 ed from the sands of Africa to a land watered by 
 the dew of heaven. But if the days were more 
 refreshing, the nights were far more uncomfort- 
 able than on the banks of the Nile ; the heavy 
 dews and rains of Syria soon penetrated the thin 
 clothing of the troops, and re ndered their situa- 
 
 * Bour., ii., 188, 189. Nap., ii., 300, 301, and Corresp. 
 Conf., vi., 192. 
 t Miot, 111. Jom., Ii., 397, 400. Dum., ii., 186, 190. 
 
 tion extremely disagreeable ; and, drenched with 
 rain, they soon came to regret, at least for their 
 nigiit bivouacs, the dry sands and star-bespangled 
 firmament of Egypt.* 
 
 Jaffa, the Joppa of antiquity, was the first 
 considerable town of Palestine which 
 presented itself to the French in the fSa"^ 
 course of tlieir march. It was invested 
 on the 4th of March, and a flag of truce, whom 
 Napoleon sent to summon the town, beheaded 
 on the spot. The breach being declared „, „ , 
 practicable, the assault took place on 
 the 6th, and success was for some lime doubt- 
 ful ; but the grenadiers of Bon's division at 
 length discovered, on the seaside, an opening 
 left unguarded, by which they entered, and ia 
 the confusion occasioned by this unexpected 
 success, the breach was carried, and the Turks 
 driven from the walls. t A desperate carnage 
 took place, and the town was delivered over to 
 the horrors of war, which never appeared in a 
 more frightful form.t 
 
 During the scene of slaughter, a large part of 
 the garrison, consisting chiefly of Fourthousand 
 Albanians and Amaouts, had taken of the gamsoa 
 refuge in some old caravanseries, capitulate, 
 where they called out from the windows that 
 they would lay down their arms provided their 
 lives were spared, but that, if not, they would 
 defend themselves to the last extremity. The 
 officers, Eugene Beauharnois and Crosier, his 
 own aids-de-camp, took upon themselves to agree 
 to the proposal, although the garrison had all 
 been devoted by Napoleon to destruction ; and 
 they brought them, disarmed, in two bodies, the 
 one consisting of two thousand five hundred 
 men, the other of fifteen hundred, to the general's 
 headquarters. Napoleon received them with a 
 stern and relentless air, and expressed the great- 
 est indignation against his aids-de-camp for en- 
 cumbering him with such a body of prisoners in 
 the famished condition of the army. The un- 
 happy wretches were made to sit down, with 
 their hands tied behind their backs, in front of 
 the tents; despair was already painted in their 
 countenances. They uttered no cries, but seem- 
 ed resigned to death. The French gave them 
 biscuit and water ; and a council of war was 
 summoned to deliberate on their fate.§ 
 
 For two days the ten'ible question was deba- 
 ted. What was to be done with these captives % 
 and the French officers approached it without 
 
 * Bour., ii., 215, 217. Miot, 129. Jom., x., 401. Dum., 
 ii., 190. 
 
 t Nap., ii., 373. Jom., xi., 403. Dum., ii., 195. Miot, 
 138, 139. 
 
 X Though resolved utterly to exterminate, if he could, the 
 Pacha of Acre, Napoleon kept up his usual system of en- 
 deavouring to persuade him that he invaded his country 
 with no hostile intentions. On the 9th of March he wrote 
 to him from Jaffa, yet reeking with the blood shed in this 
 terrible assault, " Since my entry into Egypt, 1 liave sent you 
 several letters expressive of my wish not to be involved ia 
 hostilities with you, and that my sole object was to disperse 
 the Mamelukes. The provinces of Gaza and Jaffa are ia 
 my (xtwer ; I have treated with generosity those who sur- 
 rendered at discretion, with seventy those who violated the 
 laws of war. In a few days I shall march against Acre; 
 but what cause of hostility have I with an old man whom I 
 do not know ? What are a few leagues of territory to me ? 
 Since God gnves me victory, I wish to imitate his clemency, 
 not only towards the people, but their rulers. You have no 
 reason for being my enemy, since you were the foe of the 
 Mamelukes ; become again my friend ; declare war against 
 the English and the Mamelukes, and I will do you as much 
 good as I have done, and I can do, you evil." The pacha, 
 however, paid no regard to this conjmunication, and contin- 
 ued, without inteiTuption, his preparations of defence. — See 
 Corresp. Confid. de Napoleon, vi., 232. 
 i ^ Bour., ii., 221, 223. Jom., xi., 403. Miot, 272. 
 
520 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 Massacre of ^ny predisposition to cruel measures, 
 these prison- But the didiculties were represented 
 ers. as insurmountable on the side of hu- 
 
 manity. If they sent them back, it was said, to 
 Egypt, a considerable detachment would be re- 
 quired to guard so large a body of captives, and 
 that could ill be spared from the army in its 
 present situation ; if they gave them their liberty, 
 they would forthwith join the garrison of Acre, 
 or the clouds of Arabs who already hung on the 
 flanks of the army ; if they were incorporated 
 unarmed in the ranks, the prisoners would add 
 grievously to the number of mouths, for whom, 
 already, it was sufficiently difficult to procure 
 subsistence. No friendly sail appeared in the 
 distance to take ofi' the burden on the side of the 
 ocean; the difficulty of maintaining them be- 
 came every day more grievous. The commit- 
 tee, to whom the matter Avas referred, unani- 
 mously reported that they should be put to death, 
 and Napoleon, with reluctance, signed the fatal 
 order. It was carried into execution on the lOth 
 of March ; the melancholy troop were 
 March 10. j^^rched down, firmly fe'itered, to the 
 sandhills on the seacoast, where they were divi- 
 ded into small squares, and mowed down, amid 
 shrieks which yet ring in the souls of all who 
 "witnessed the scene, by successive discharges 
 of musketry. No separation of the Egyptians 
 from the other prisoners took place ; all met the 
 same tragic fate. In vain they appealed to the 
 capitulation by which their lives had been guar- 
 antied; bound as they stood together, they were 
 fired at for hours successively, and such as sur- 
 vived the shot were despatched with the bayonet. 
 One young man, in an agony of terror, burst his 
 bonds, tfirew him.self among the horses of the 
 French officers, and embracing their knees, pas- 
 sionately implored that his life might be spared ; 
 he w'as sternly refused, and bayoneted at their 
 feet. But with this exception, all the other pris- 
 oners received their fate with the fortitude which 
 is the peculiar characteristic of the Mussulman 
 faith; they calmly performed their ablutions in 
 the stagnant pools among which they were 
 placed, and taking each other's hands, after hav- 
 ing placed them on their lips and their hearts, 
 in the Mussulman mode of salutation, gave and 
 received an eternal adieu. One old chief, slight- 
 ly wounded, had strength enough left to excavate 
 "with his own hands his grave, where he was in- 
 terred, while yet alive, by his foUowei's, them- 
 selves sinking into the arms of death. After 
 the massacre had lasted some time, the horrors 
 •which surrounded them shook the hearts of 
 many, especially of the younger part of the cap- 
 tives. Several at length broke their bonds, and 
 sv/am to a ridge of coral rocks out of the reach 
 of shot ; the troops made signs to them of peace 
 and forgiveness, and when they came within a 
 short distance, fired at them in the sea, where 
 they perished from the discharge or the waves. 
 The bones of the vast multitude still remain in 
 great heaps amid the sandhills of the Desert ;* the 
 Arab tnrns from the field of blood, and it remains 
 in solitary horror, a melancholy monument of 
 Christian atrocity. 
 
 It would be to little purpose that the great 
 drama of human events were recorded in histo- 
 ry, if the judgment of posterit}' were not strongly 
 pronounced on the conduct of the principal ac- 
 tors on the scene. Napoleon lived for posthu- 
 
 * Jom., li., 404. Bour., ii.. 225, 227. Sav., i., 100. 
 Miot, 144, 148. O'AIeara, i., 329. Nap., li., 373. 
 
 mous celebrity; in this instance he shall have 
 his deserts : the massacre at Jaffa is an eternal 
 and ineffaceable blot on his memory ; and so it 
 is considered by the ablest and most impartial 
 of his owm military historians.* The laws of 
 war can never justify the massacre of prisoners 
 in cold blood, three days after the action has 
 ceased ; least of all, of those who had laid down 
 their arms on the promise that their lives should 
 be spared ; the plea of expedience can never be 
 admitted to extenuate a deed of cruelty. If it 
 were, it would vindicate the massa- Unpardonable 
 cres in the prisons of Paris, the car- atrocity of this 
 nage of St. Bartholomew, the bum- '^'^^■ 
 ing of Joan of Arc, or any of the other foul deeds 
 with which the page of history is stained. Least 
 of all should Napoleon recur to such an argu- 
 ment, for it justifies at once all the severities of 
 which he so loudly complained, when applied in 
 a much lighter degree to himself at St. Helena. 
 If the peril arising from dismissing a few thou- 
 sand obscure Albanians justified their indiscrim- 
 inate massacre, what is to be said against the- 
 exile of him who had wrapped the world in 
 flames 1 Nothing was easier than to have dis- 
 armed the captives and sent them away ; the 
 Vendeans, in circumstances infinitely more per- 
 ilous, had given a noble instance of such human- 
 ity, when they shaved the heads of eleven thou- 
 sand of the Republican soldiers who had been 
 made prisoners, and gave them their liberty. 
 Even if they had all taken refuge in Acre,'it; 
 would, so far from strengthening, have weaken- 
 ed the defence of that fortress ; the deed of mercy 
 would have opened a wider breach than the Re- 
 publican batteries. In reality, the iniquitous act 
 was as shortsighted as it was atrocious; and, 
 sooner or later, such execrable deeds, even in 
 this world, work out their own punishment. It 
 was despair which gave such resolution to the 
 defenders of the Turkish fortress. Napoleon 
 has said that Sir Sydney Smith made him miss 
 his destiny, and threw him back from the empire 
 of the East to a solitary island in the Atlantic ; 
 in truth, however, it was not the sword of his 
 enemies, but his own cruelty, which rendered the 
 battlements of Acre invincible to his arms ; if 
 the fate of their comrades at Jaffa had not ren- 
 dered its garrison desperate, all the bravery of 
 that gallant chevalier would have been exerted 
 in vain ; and, instead of perishing by a lingering 
 death on the rock of St. Helena, the mighty con- 
 queror might have left to his descendants the 
 throne of Constantinople.t 
 
 After this hideous massacre, the French army- 
 wound round the promontory of -j-j^g p^g^ch ad- 
 Mount Carmel, and, after defeat- vance to Acre, 
 ing a large body of horse, under Description of 
 the command of Abdallah Pacha, ^^^^ fortress, 
 on the mountains of Naplouse, appeared be- 
 fore Acre on the 16th of March. This town, 
 so celebrated for its long siege, and the heroic 
 exploits of which it was the witness in the holy 
 wars, is situated on a peninsula, which enables 
 the besieged to unite all their means of defence 
 on the isthmus which connects it with the main 
 land. A single wall, with curtains flanked by 
 square towers, and a wet ditch, constituted its 
 
 * .lom., XI., 404. Th., ix., 384. 
 
 t Napoleon and all his eulog-ists admit the massacre, bat 
 assert that it was justifiable, because the earrison was part- 
 ly composed of those who had been taken at El-Arish. 
 This is now proved to be false. No part of the garrison at 
 El-Arish was in Jaffa, but it was conveyed in the rear of the 
 French army. See BouRRIENNE, ii.,216, and JoMINI, x., 
 403. 0"MEARA,i.,329. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 521 
 
 sole means of defence ; but these, in the hands 
 of Ottoman soldiers, were not to be despised. 
 The Pacha of Syria, with all his treasures, arms, 
 and artillery, had shut himself up in that strong- 
 hold, determined to make the most desperate re- 
 sistance. But all his eflbrts would probably 
 have proved unavailing had it not been for the 
 desperation inspired by the previous massacre 
 at Jaffa, and the courage and activity of aa 
 English officer, Sir Sydney Smith, who at that 
 period commanded the squadron in the Bay of 
 Acre.* 
 
 This celebrated man, who had been wrecked 
 Sir Sydney ^^ ^^^ coast of France and confined 
 Smith's prepa- in the Temple, made his escape a 
 rations for its few days after Napoleon left Paris 
 defence. jq {^jjg command of the Egyptian 
 
 expedition. After a variety of adventures, which 
 •would pass for fabulous if they had not occurred 
 in real life, he arrived in England, where his 
 enterprise and talents were immediately put in 
 requisition for the command of the squadron in 
 the Archipelago. Having received information 
 from the Pacha of Syria that Acre was to be at- 
 tacked, he hastened to the scene of danger, and 
 arrived there just two days before the appearance 
 of the French army, with the Tiger of eighty- 
 four, and Theseus of seventy-four guns, and 
 some smaller vessels. This precious interval 
 was actively employed by him in strengthening 
 the works, and making preparations for the de- 
 fence of the place. On the following 
 J799I ' '^^y '^^ ^''^^ fortunate enough to capture 
 the whole flotilla despatched from Alex- 
 andria with the heavy artillery and stores for the 
 siege of the town, as it was creeping round the 
 headlands of Moimt Carmel; and the guns, for- 
 ty-four in number, were immediately mounted 
 on the ramparts, and contributed in the most 
 important manner to the defence of the place. 
 At the same time, Colonel Philippeaux, a French 
 officer of engineers, expatriated from his country 
 by the Revolution, exerted his talents in repair- 
 ing and arming the fortifications ; and a large 
 tody of seamen and marines, headed by Sir Syd- 
 ney Smith himself, were landed to co-operate in 
 the defence of the works.tt 
 
 The irreparable loss sustained by the capture 
 Commence- of the flotilla reduced the battering 
 ment of the cannon of the assailants to four bombs, 
 ^ege. fom- twelve, and eight eight-pounders. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, these slender means, 
 such was the activity and perseverance of the 
 French engineers, that the works of the besiegers 
 advanced with great expedition ; a sally of the 
 garrison was vigorously repulsed on the 26th, 
 and a mine having been nm under one of the 
 principal towers, which had been severely batter- 
 Ma h 28 ^'^' ^^^ explosion took place two days af- 
 ter, and a practicable breach was ef- 
 fected. The grenadiers instantly advanced to 
 the assault, and running rapidly forward, arrived 
 at the edge of the counterscarp. They were 
 there arrested by a ditch fifteen feet deep, which 
 
 ♦ Jom.. li., 406. Dum., ii., 196, 197. Th., i., 384, 385. 
 Berth., 54, 55. 
 
 + Jom., xi., 406. Dum., ii., 197, 198. Ann. Reg., 
 1799, 2S. 
 
 1 It IS not the least curious fact in that age of wonders, 
 that Philippeaux, whose talents so powerfully contributed, 
 at this crisis, to change the fate of Napoleon, had been his 
 companion at the Mihtary School at Bnenne, and passed 
 his examinations with him previous to joining their respect- 
 ive resinients.* 
 
 Vol. I.— U u u 
 
 Las Cas., i., 233. 
 
 was only half filled up with the ruins of the 
 wall. Their ardour, however, speedily over- 
 came this obstacle ; they descended into the fosse, 
 and mounting the breach, efliected a lodgment in 
 the tower; but the impediment of the counter- 
 scarp having prevented them from being ade- 
 quately supported,* the Turks returned to the 
 charge, and, after a desperate struggle, succeed- 
 ed in expelling them from that part of the ram- 
 parts, and diiving them, with great slaughter, 
 back into their trenches. t 
 
 This repulse convinced the French that they 
 had to deal with very different foes , , , „ 
 from those whom they had massa- p P,"te conflict^ 
 cred at Jaffa. A second assault, ,n the breach, 
 on the 1st of April, having met The o'ttomans 
 with no better success, the troops advance to its 
 were withdrawn into the works, 
 and the general-in-chief resolved to await the 
 arrival of the heavy artillery from Damietta. 
 Meanwhile, the Ottomans were collecting all 
 their forces on the other side of the Jordan to 
 raise the siege. Napoleon had concluded a sort 
 of alliance with the Druses, a bold and hardy 
 race of Christian mountaineers, who inhabit the 
 heights of Lebanon, and only awaited the cap- 
 ture of Acre to declare openly for his cause, and 
 throw off the j'oke of their "Mussulman rulers. 
 The Turks, however, on their side, had not been 
 idle. By vast exertions, they had succeeded in 
 rousing the Mohammedan population of all the 
 suiTOunding provinces ; the remains of the Mam- 
 elukes of Ibrahim Bey, the janizaries of Alep- 
 po and of Damascus, joined to an innumerable 
 horde of irregular cavalr)', formed a vast army, 
 which had already pushed its advanced posts 
 beyond the Jordan, and threatened soon to en- 
 velop the besieging force. The French troops 
 occupied the mountains of Naplouse, Cana in. 
 Galilee, and Nazareth ; names forever immor- 
 tal in holy writ, at which the devout ardour 
 of the Crusaders burned with generous en- 
 thusiasm,? but which were now visited by the 
 descendants of a Christian people without either 
 interest in, or knowledge of, the inestimable 
 benefits which were there conferred upon man- 
 kind. 
 
 The.se alarming reports induced Napoleon to- 
 send detachments to Tyre and Saffet, The French 
 and re-enforce the troops under the advance to 
 command of Junot at Nazareth. Their ™<'e' t^iem. 
 arrival was not premature ; for the advanced, 
 posts of the enemy had already crossed the Jor- 
 dan at the Bridge of Jacob, and were pressing 
 in vast multitudes towards the mountain-ridge 
 which separates the valley of that river from the 
 maritime coast. Kleber, on his march from the 
 camp at Acre to join Junot, encountered a body 
 of four thousand horse on the heights of Loubi;. 
 but they were defeated and driven be- gjjj April 
 yond the Jordan by the same rolling fire 
 which had so often proved fatal to the Mame- 
 lukes in Egypt. On the day following, g^j^ . ^ 
 a grand sortie, headed by English offi- 
 cers, and supported by some marines from the 
 fleet, took place from Acre, and obtained at first 
 considerable advantages ; but the arrival of re- 
 
 * Miot, 162, 163. Jom., xi., 407. Dum., ii., 200. 202. 
 Ann. Reg., 1799, 29. Th., x., 380. 
 
 t A striking instance of the attachment of the soldiers to- 
 Napoleon appeared on this occasion. In the trenches, a 
 bomb, with the fusee burning, fell at his feet ; two grena- 
 diers instantly seized him in their aims, and covering him 
 with their bodies, carried him out of danger. They got him- 
 out of the reach of the explosion before it took place, and no> 
 one was injured.^LAS Casas, i., 235. t Lav., i., 372. 
 
522 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 enforcements from the camp at length obliged 
 the assailants to return into the town.* 
 
 Napoleon now saw that he had not a moment 
 to lose in marching to attack the cloud of enemies 
 which were collecting in his rear, and preventing 
 a general concentration of the hostile forces by 
 sea and land against the camp before Acre. For 
 this purpose he ordered Kleber, with his division, 
 to join Junot ; Murat, with a thousand infantry 
 and two squadrons of horse, was stationed at the 
 Bridge of Jacob, and he himself set out from the 
 camp before Acre with the division of General 
 Bon, the cavalry, and eight pieces of cannon.t 
 
 Kleber had left Nazareth with all his forces, in 
 Battle of order to make an attack on the Turkish 
 Mount camp; but he was anticipated by the ene- 
 Thabor. my^ ^yho advanced to meet him, with fif- 
 teen thousand cavalry and as many infantry, as 
 far as the village of Fouli. Kleber instantly 
 drew up his little army in squares, with the ar- 
 tillery at the angles, and the formation was hardly 
 completed when the immense mass came thun- 
 dering down, threatening to trample their hand- 
 ful of enemies under their horses' hoofs. The 
 steady aim and the rolling fire of the French vet- 
 erans brought down the foremost of the assail- 
 ants, and soon formed a rampart of dead bodies 
 of men and horses, behind which they bravely 
 maintained the unequal combat for six hours, 
 tmtil at length Napoleon, with the cavalry and 
 fresh divisions, arrived on the heights which 
 overlooked the field of battle, and amid the mul- 
 titudes with which it was covered, distinguished 
 his men by the regular and incessant volleys 
 •which issued from their ranks, forming steady 
 flaming spots amid the moving throng with 
 ■which they were surrounded. He instantly took 
 his resolution. General Letourcq was despatch- 
 ed, with the cavalry and two pieces of light ar- 
 tillery^, against the Mamelukes who were in re- 
 serve at the foot of the mountains of Naplouse, 
 ■while the division of Bon, divided into two 
 squares, advanced to the attack of the flank and 
 rear of the multitude who were surrounding 
 Kleber's division, and Napoleon, with the can- 
 non and guides, pressed them in front. A twelve- 
 pounder, fired from the heights, announced to the 
 ■wearied band of heroes the joyful intelligence 
 that succour was at hand ; the columns all ad- 
 vanced rapidly to the attack, while Kleber, re- 
 suming the offensive, extended his ranks, and 
 ■-charged the mass who had so long oppressed him 
 ■with the bayonet. The immense superiority of 
 European discipline and tactics was then appa- 
 rent; the Turks, attacked in so many quarters at 
 once, and exposed to a concentric fire from all the 
 squares, were unable to make any resistance ; no 
 measures, either to arrest the enemy or secure a 
 Tetreat, were taken, and the motley throng, mowed 
 down by the discharges of grapeshot, fled in con- 
 fusion behind Mount Thabor, and finding the 
 Bridge of Jacob seized by Murat, rushed in des- 
 peration, in the night, through the Jordan, where 
 great numbers were drowned. t§ 
 
 This great victory, gained by six thousand 
 veterans over a brave but undisciplined mass of 
 
 * Jom., li., 409. Ann. Reg., 1799, 30. Dum., ii., 205. 
 
 t .Tom., X., 410. Dum., ii., 287. 
 
 i Miot, 176, 182. Jom., xi., 412, 413. Dum., ii., 207, 208. 
 
 <) General Junot commanded one of these squares, which 
 heroically resisted the Ottomans. His valour and steadiness 
 attracted the especial notice of Napoleon, who had the names 
 of the three hundred men of which it was composed en- 
 graved on a splendid shield, which he presented to that offi- 
 cer, to be presen'ed among the archives of his family. — See 
 DucHEssE D'Abrantes, xi., 372. 
 
 thirty thousand Oriental militia, completely se- 
 cured the flank and rear of Napoleon's army. 
 The defeat had been complete ; the Turkish 
 camp, with all their baggage and ammunition, 
 fell into the hands of the conquerors ; the army, 
 which the people of the country called " innu- 
 merable as the sands of the sea or the stars of 
 heaven," had dispersed, never again to return.* 
 Kleber occupied in force the Bridge of Jacob, the 
 forts of Saffet and Tabarieh ; and having station- 
 ed patrols along the banks of the Jordan, fixed 
 his headquarters at the village of Nazareth, while 
 Napoleon returned, with the remainder of the 
 army, to the siege of Acre.t 
 
 The French cruisers having at length succeed- 
 ed in debarking three twenty-four and Renewal of 
 six eighteen-pounders at Jaffa, they the siege of 
 were forthwith brought up to the -'^'=re. 
 trenches, and a heavy fire opened upon the tow- 
 er, which had been the object of such vehement 
 contests. Mines were run under the walls, and 
 all the resources of art exhausted to efl^ect the re- 
 duction of the place, but in vain. The defence 
 under Philippeaux was not less determined nor 
 less skilful than the attack; he erected some ex- 
 ternal works in the fosse, to take the grenadiers 
 in flank as they advanced to the assault; the 
 mines of the besiegers were countermined, and 
 constant sorties made to retard their approaches. 
 In the course of these desperate contests, both 
 Cafliarelli, who commanded the engineers of the 
 assailants, and Philippeaux, who directed the 
 operations of the besieged, were slain. The vig- 
 our and resolution of the garrison in- 
 creased with every hour the siege con- ^^' 
 
 tinned. Napoleon, by a desperate effort, for a 
 time succeeded in effecting a lodgment in the 
 ruined tower ; but his men were soon driven out 
 with immense loss, and the Turks regained pos- 
 session of all their fortifications. The trenches 
 had been open and the breach practicable for 
 nearly two months, but no sensible progress as 
 yet made in the reduction of the place.: 
 
 At length, on the evening of the 7th of May, a 
 few sails were seen from the towers of Acre, on 
 the farthest verge of the horizon. All eyes were 
 instantly turned in that direction, and the be- 
 siegers and besieged equally flattered themselves 
 that succour was at hand. The English cruis- 
 ers in the bay hastily, and in doubt, stood out to 
 reconnoitre this unknown fleet ; but the hearts of 
 the French sank within them when they beheld 
 the two squadrons unite, and the Ottoman cres- 
 cent, joined to the English pendant, approach the 
 Road of Acre. Soon after, a fleet of thirty sail 
 entered the bay, with seven thousand men, and 
 abundance of artillery and ammunition, from 
 Rhodes. Napoleon, calculating that this re-en- 
 forcement could not be disembarked for at least 
 six hours, resolved to anticipate its arrival by an 
 assault during the night. For this, the division 
 of Bon, at ten at night, drove the enemy from 
 their exterior works. The artillery took advan- 
 tage of that circumstance to approach to the coun- 
 terscarp and batter the curtain. At daybreak 
 another breach in the rampart was declared prac- 
 ticable, and an assault ordered. The division of 
 Lannes renewed the attack on the tower, while 
 General Rambaud led the column to the new 
 breach. The grenadiers, advancing with the 
 most heroic intrepidity, made their way to the 
 
 * Th., X ,388. 
 
 t Dum., ii., 208. Miot, 181, 183. Th., x., 389. 
 t Jom., xi., 414, 415. Dum., ii., 212. Th., x., 389. 
 Miot, 190, 193. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 523 
 
 summit of the rampart, and the morning sun dis- 
 played the tricolour Hag on the outer angle of the 
 Desperate tower. The lire of the place was now 
 assault of sensibly slackened, while the besiegers, 
 the tower, redouoling tlieir boldness, were seen 
 intrenching themselves, in the lodgments they had 
 formed, with sandbags and dead bodies, the points 
 of their bayonets only appearing above the bloody 
 parapet. The troops in the roads were embark- 
 ed in the boats, and were pulling as hard as they 
 could across the bay ; but several hours must still 
 elapse before they could arrive at the menaced 
 point. In this extremity Sir Sydney Smith land- 
 ed the crews of the ships, and led them, armed 
 with pikes, to the breach. The sight reanimated 
 the courage of the besieged, who were beginning 
 to quail under the prospect of instant death, and 
 they mounted the long-disputed tower, amid loud 
 shouts from the brave men who still defended its 
 ruins. Immediately a furious contest ensued ; 
 the besieged hurled down large stones on the as- 
 sailants, who fired at them witliin half pistol-shot, 
 the muzzles of the muskets touched each other, 
 and the spearheads of the standards were locked 
 together. At length the desperate daring of the 
 French yielded to the unconquerable firmness of 
 the British and the heroic valour of the Mussul- 
 mans ; the grenadiers were driven from the tow- 
 er, and a body of Turks, issuing from the gates, 
 attacked them in flank while they crossed the 
 ditch, and drove them back with great loss to the 
 trenches.* 
 
 But while this success was gained in one 
 quarter, ruin was impending in another. The 
 division headed by Rambaud succeeded in reach- 
 ing the summit of the rampart, and, leaping down 
 into the tower, attained the very garden of the 
 pacha's seraglio. Everything seemed lost ; but 
 at the critical moment. Sir Sydney Smith, at the 
 head of a regiment of janizaries, disciplined in 
 the Etu'opean method, rushed to the spot. The 
 progress of the assailants was stopped by a tre- 
 mendous fire from the housetops and the barri- 
 cades which surrounded the seraglio ; and at 
 length the French, who had penetrated so far, 
 were cut off from the breach by which they had 
 entered, and driven into a neighbouring mosque, 
 where they owed their lives to the humane inter- 
 cession of Sir Sydney Smith. In this bloody af- 
 fair the loss of lives was very great on both 
 sides : Rambaud was killed, and Lannes severe- 
 ly wounded.t 
 
 Notwithstanding this disaster, Napoleon was 
 not yet sufficiently subdued by misfortune to or- 
 der a retreat.: " The fate of the East," said he, 
 " is in yonder fort; the fall of Acre is the object 
 of my expedition; Damascus will be its first 
 fruit." Although the troops in the fleet were 
 now landed, and the force in the place greatly in- 
 creased, he resolved to make a last effort with 
 the division of Kleber, which had been recalled 
 in haste from its advanced post on the Jordan. 
 .Early on the lOth of May he advanced in person 
 to the foot of the breach, and, seeing that it was 
 greatly enlarged by the fire of the preceding days, 
 a new assault was ordered. The summit of the 
 breach was again attained ; but the troops were 
 there arrested by the murderous fire which issu- 
 ed from the barricades and intrenchments with 
 -which the garrison had strengthened the interior 
 of the tower. In the evenina: the division of 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1799, 32. Jom., li., 416. Bum., li., 213. 
 Miot. 194, 196. 
 
 t Jom., li., 416, 417. Dura., ii., 213, 214. Th., x., 390. 
 Ann. Reg., 1799, 32. Miot, 197, 198. t Miot, 184. 
 
 Kleber arrived, and, proud of its triumph at 
 Mount Thabor, eagerly demanded to be led to 
 the assault. " If St. Jean d'Acre is not takea 
 this evening," said one of the colonels, as he was 
 marching at the head of his regiment to the as- 
 sault, " be assured Venoux is slain." He kept 
 his word ; the fortress held out, but he lay at the 
 foot of the walls.* A little before sunset, a dark, 
 massy column issued from the trenches, and ad- 
 vanced with a firm and solemn step to the breach. 
 The assailants were permitted to ascend unmo- 
 lested to the summit, and descend into the garden, 
 of the pacha ; but no sooner had they reached 
 that point than they were assailed with irresisti- 
 ble fury by a body of janizaries, who, with the 
 sabre in one hand and the dagger in the other, 
 speedily reduced the whole column to headless 
 trunks. In vain other columns, and even the 
 Guides of Napoleon, his last reserve, advanced 
 to the attack; they were all repulsed with dread-, 
 ful loss. Among the killed in this last encoun- 
 ter was General Bon, and the wounded. Crosier, 
 aid-de-camp of the general-in-chief, and a large 
 proportion of his staff.t On this occasion, as in 
 the assault on Schumla in 1808, it was proved 
 that, in a personal struggle, the bayonet of the 
 European is no match for the Turkish cimeter. 
 
 Success being now hopeless, preparations 
 were made for a retreat, after sixty days Napoleon 
 of open trenches ; a proclamation was at length 
 issued to the troops, announcing that retreats, 
 their return was required to withstand a descent 
 which was threatened from the island of Rhodes, 
 and the fire from the trenches kept up with such 
 vigour to the last moment, that the Turks were 
 not aware of the preparations made for a retreat. 
 Meanwhile, the baggage, sick, and field-artillery 
 were silently defiling to the rear, the heavy can- 
 non were buried in the sand, and on the 2()th of 
 May, Napoleon, for the first time in his life, or- 
 dered a retreat. ; 
 
 No event, down to the retreat from Moscow, 
 so deeply afiected Napoleon as the repulse at 
 Acre. It had cost him 3000 of his bravest troops, 
 slain, or dead of their wounds ; a still greater 
 number were irrecoverably mutilated, or had in 
 them the seeds of the plague, contracted during 
 the stay at Jaffa; and the illusion of his invinci- 
 bility was dispelled. But these disasters, great 
 as they were to an army situated as vast designs 
 his was, were not the real cause of which thts 
 his chagrin. It was the destruction defeat frus- 
 of his dreams of Oriental conquest ''■^'^'^■ 
 which cut him to the heart. Standing on the 
 mount which still bears the name of Richard 
 Cceur de Lion, on the evening of the fatal as- 
 sault when Lannes was wounded, he said to his 
 secretary, Bourrienne, "Yes, Bourrienne, that 
 miserable fort has indeed cost me dear ; but mat- 
 ters have gone too far not to make a last effort. 
 If I succeed, as I trust I shall, I shall find in the 
 town all the treasures of the pacha, and arms for 
 300,000 men. I shall raise and arm all Syria, 
 which at this moment unanimously prays lor the 
 success of the assault. I will march on Damas- 
 cus and Aleppo ; I will swell my army as I ad- 
 vance with the discontented in every country 
 through which I pass ; I will announce to the 
 people the breaking of their chains, and the abo- 
 lition of the tyranny of the pachas. Do you not 
 see that the Druses wait only for the fall of Acre 
 
 * Miot, 199. ^ „, ^ .. „,_ 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1799, 33. Jom., x., 417. Dum., ii., 217. 
 Miot, 199, 200. 
 t Duin.,ii.,218. Jom.,xi.,417. Th.,x.,391. Miot,200. 
 
524 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 to declare themselves 1 Have I not been already 
 offered the keys of Damascus 1 I have only lin- 
 gered under these walls because, at present, I 
 could derive no advantage from that great towTi. 
 Acre taken, I will secure Egypt ; on the side of 
 Egypt, cut off all succour from the beys, and pro- 
 claim Desaix general-in-chief of that country. 
 I will arrive at Constantinople with armed mass- 
 es ; overturn the empire of the Turks, and estab- 
 lish a new one in the East, which will fix my 
 place with posterity ; and perhaps I may return 
 to Paris by Adinanople and Vienna, after having 
 annihilated the house of Austria."* Boundless 
 as these anticipations were, they were not the 
 result merely of the enthusiasm of the moment, 
 but were deliberately repeated by Napoleon, af- 
 ter the lapse of twenty years, on the rock of St. 
 Helena. " St. Jean d'Acre once taken," said he, 
 "the French army would have flown to Aleppo 
 and Damascus; in the twinkling of an eye it 
 "would have been on the Euphrates; the Chris- 
 tians of Syria, the Druses, the Christians of Ar- 
 menia, would have joined it ; the whole popula- 
 tion of the East would have been agitated." 
 Some one said he would soon have been re-en- 
 forced by a hundred thousand men : " Say rather 
 six hundred thousand," replied Napoleon; " who 
 can calculate what would have happened It I 
 would have reached Constantinople and the In- 
 dies ; I would have changed the face of the 
 "world." Splendid as his situation afterward 
 was, he never ceased to regret the throne which 
 he relinquished when he retired from Acre, and 
 repeatedly said of Sir Sydney Smith, " That man 
 made me miss my destiny. "t 
 
 The army occupied two days in the retreat to 
 Disastrous ^^^^, and remained there, destroying 
 retreat of the fortifications, for three more. The 
 the troops field-artillery was embarked, in order 
 to Egypt. {Q avoid the painful passage over the 
 Desert, but it all fell into the hands of Sir S)^dney 
 
 * Bour., 11., 243, 244. 
 
 t Las Cas., i., 384. Th., x., 392. D'Abr., iv., 268, 269. 
 
 t Napoleon, who had been hitherto accustomed to an un- 
 interrupted career of victory, achieved frequently with in- 
 considerable means, did not evince the patience requisite for 
 success in this siege ; he began it with too slender resources, 
 and wasted the lives of his brave soldiers in assaults which, 
 against Turkish and English troops, were little better than 
 hopeless. Kleber, whose disposition was entirely different, 
 and who shared in none of the ardour which led him to over- 
 look or undervalue these obstacles, from the beginning pre- 
 dicted that the siege would fail, and loudly expressed, du- 
 ring its progress, his disapprobation of the slovenly, insuffi- 
 cient mannerin which the worksof the siege were advanced, 
 and the dreadful butchery to which the soldiers were ex- 
 posed in so many hopeless assaults.* 
 
 Though grievously mortified by this failure, the French 
 general evinced no small dexterity in the art with which, in 
 his proclamation to his troops, he veiled his defeat ; '• Sol- 
 diers I you have traversed the desert which separates Asia 
 and Africa with the rapidity of the Arab horse. The army 
 which was advancing to invade Egypt is destroyed ; you 
 have made prisoner its general, its baggage, its camels; 
 you have captured all the forts which guard tlie wells of the 
 Desert ; you have dispersed on the field of Mount Thabor 
 the innumerable host which assembled from all parts of 
 Asia to share in the pillage of Egypt. Finally, after having, 
 with a handful of men, maintained the war for three months 
 in the heart of Syria, taken forty pieces of cannon, fifty 
 standards, and six thousand prisoners, razed the fortifications 
 of Gaza, Jaffa, Caffa, and Acre, we are about to re-enter 
 Egypt ; the season of debarcation commands it. Yet a few 
 days, and you would have taken the pacha in the midst of 
 his palace ; but at this moment such a prize is not worth a 
 few days' combat ; the brave men who would have perished 
 in it aie essential for farther operations. Soldiers I we have 
 dangers and fatigues to encounter ; after having disabled 
 the forces of the East, for the remainder of the campaign we 
 shall, perhaps, have to repel the attacks of a part of the 
 "West."— MiOT, 204. 
 
 • Miot, 209. 
 
 Smith, who followed the movements of the army, 
 and harassed them incessantly with the light 
 vessels of his squadron. All the horrors of war 
 were accumulated on the troops and the inhabi- 
 tants of the unhappy villages which lay on the 
 line of the retreat. A devouring thirst, total 
 want of water, a fatiguing march through burn- 
 ing sands, reduced the soldiers to despair, and 
 shook the firmness even of the bravest ofiicers. 
 The seeds of the plague were in the army, and, 
 independently of the number who were actually 
 the victims of that dreadful malady, the sick and 
 wounded suffered under the unbounded appre- 
 hensions of all who approached them. The dy- 
 ing, laid down by the side of the road, exclaimed 
 with a faltering voice, " I am not sick of the 
 plague, but only wounded ;" and to prove the 
 truth of what they said, tore their bandages asun- 
 der, and let their wounds bleed afresh. The 
 heavens were darkened during the day by the 
 clouds which rose from the burning villages ; the 
 march of the columns was at night illuminated 
 by the flames which followed their steps. On 
 their right was the sea, on their left and rear the 
 wilderness they had made ; before them, the Des- 
 ert, with all its horrors. In the general suffer- 
 ing. Napoleon set the example of disinterested 
 self-denial; abandoning his horse, and that of all 
 his equipage for the use of the sick, he marched 
 himself at the head of the troops on foot, inspiring^ 
 all around him with cheerfulness and resolution.* 
 At Jaffa he visited himself the plague hospital, 
 inviting those "^"ho had sufircient strength to rise 
 to raise themselves on their beds, and endeavour 
 to get into the litters prepared for their use.t He 
 walked through the rooms, affected a careless air, 
 striking his boot with his riding-whip, in order 
 to remove the apprehensions which had seized 
 all the soldiers in regard to the contagious nature 
 of the malady.: Those who could not be re- 
 moved were, it is to be feared, poi- poisoning of 
 soned by orders of the general ; their the sick at 
 numbers did not exceed sixty ; and, as Jaffa. It was 
 the Turks were within an hour's justifiable. 
 march of the place, their recovery hopeless, and 
 a cruel death awaited them at the hands of those 
 barbarians the moment they arrived, the painful 
 act may perhaps be justified, not only on the 
 ground of necessity, but of humanity.§ll Napo- 
 leon did not expressly admit the fact at St. He- 
 lena, but he reasoned in such a manner as plainly 
 implied that it was trae. He argued, and argued 
 justly, that in the circumstances in which he 
 was placed, it could not be considered as a 
 crime. " What man," said he, " would not have 
 preferred immediate death to the horror of being 
 exposed to lingering tortures on the part of these 
 barbarians 1 If my own son, whom I love as 
 well as any man can love his child, were in such 
 a situation, my advice would be, that he should 
 be treated in the same manner ; and if I were so 
 myself, I would implore that the same should be 
 done to me. "IT While history, however, must 
 
 * Bour., ii., 251, 252. Miot. 215. Dum., ii., 219 
 
 t Bour., ii., 257. Las Cas., vii., 221, 222. 
 
 t Savary, i., 105. 
 
 I) Bour., ii., 262, 263. Miot, 206. Sir Robert "Wilson, 
 172. Th., X., 293. 
 
 II Sir Robert Wilson states the number of those poisoned 
 at 580 ; Miot says merely, " If we are to trust the reports of 
 the anny and the general rumour, which is often the organ 
 of tardy truth, which power seeks in vain to suppress, some 
 of the wounded at Mount Carmel, and a lar^e part of the 
 sick in the hospital of Jaffa, died of what was administered 
 to them in the form of medicine." — See Wilson, 176 i 
 Miot, 206. 
 
 H Las Cas., i., 214. Bouro u., 264. O'Mea., i., 329, 353: 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 525 
 
 acquit Napoleon of decided criminality in this 
 matter, the more especially as the Turks mur- 
 dered all the prisoners and sick who fell into 
 their hands, notwithstanding the utmost eiforts 
 of the British oliicers,* it must I'ecord with ad- 
 miration the answer of the French chief of the 
 medical staff, when the proposal was made by 
 Napoleon to him, " My vocation is to prolong 
 life, and not to extinguish it."tj 
 
 After a painful march over the Desert, in the 
 course of which numbers of the sick and wound- 
 ed perished from heat and suffering, the army 
 reached El-Arish on the 1st of June, 
 SasEtvpf ^'^'1 ^^ length exchanged the priva- 
 tions and thirst of the Desert for the 
 riches and comforts of Egypt. During this march 
 the thermometer rose to 33° of Reaumur, and 
 when the globe of mercury was plunged in the 
 sand, it stood at ib^, corresponding to 92^ and 
 113'^ of Fahrenheit. The water to be met with 
 in the Desert was so salt that numbers of horses 
 expired shortly after drinking it; and notwith- 
 standing their frequent experience of the illusion, 
 such was the deceitful appearance of the mirage, 
 "which constantly presented itself, that the men 
 frequently rushed to the glassy streams and lakes, 
 ■which vanished on their approach into air.§ 
 
 Though Egypt in general preserved its tran- 
 Contests m ^"^^^^'^Y '^^'''■^S the absence of Napo- 
 Egypt during leon, disturbances oi a threatenmg 
 Napoleon's ab- character had taken place in the 
 seuce. The aa- Delta. A chief in Lower Egypt, 
 s^ ■' ° y- ^ho had contrived to assemble to- 
 gether a number of Mamelukes and discontent- 
 ed characters, gave himself out for the angel 
 El-Mody, and put to the sword the garrison of 
 Damanhour; and it was not till two dif- 
 
 ^^ ■ ferent divisions had been sent against him 
 that the insurrection was suppressed and its lead- 
 er killed. Meanwhile Desaix, pursuing 
 
 ^^ ■ with indefatigable activity his gallant op- 
 ponent, had followed the course of the Nile as 
 I'ar as Sleim, the extreme limit of the Roman Em- 
 pire, where he learned that Mourad Bey had as- 
 cended beyond the Cataracts, and retired alto- 
 gether into Nubia. A bloody skirmish after- 
 ward took place near Thebes, between a body of 
 French cavalry and a parly of Mamelukes ; and 
 Mohammed Elfi, one of the most enterprising of 
 their ofhcers, sustained so severe a defeat at Sou- 
 hama, on the banks of the Nile, that out of twelve 
 hundred horse, only a hundred and fifty escaped 
 into the Great Oasis in the Desert. This suc- 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1799, 33, 34. 
 
 + Las Cas., i., 214. Th., x., 393. O'Mea., i., 330. 
 
 t It is a curious fact, illustrative of the inconceivable ef- 
 fect of such seasons of horror on the human mind, that while 
 the soldiers who were ill of the plague expressed the utmost 
 horror at being left behind, and rose with difficulty from the 
 bed of death to stagger a few steps after their departing com- 
 rades, their fate excited little or no commiseration in the 
 more fortunate soldiers who had escaped the pestilence. 
 " Who would not have supposed," says Miot, " that in such 
 an extremity, the comrades of the unhappy sufferers would 
 have done all they could to succour or relieve them. So far 
 from it, they were the objects only of horror and derision. 
 The soldiers avoided the sick as the pestilence with which 
 they were afflicted, and burst into immoderate fits of laugh- 
 ter at the convulsive efforts which they made to rise. ' lie 
 has made up his accounts,' said one ; ' He will not get on 
 far,' said another ; and when the poor wretch fell for the 
 last time, they exclaimed, ' His lodging is secured.' The 
 terrible truth must be told: in such a crisis, indifference 
 and egotism are the ruling sentiments of the army ; and if 
 you would be well with your comrades, you must never need 
 their assistance, and remain in good health." The same 
 facts were most conspicuous during the Russian retreat and 
 in the Spanish war. — See MioT, 220. 
 
 <t Bour., ii., 265. Savary, i., 56. 
 
 cess was counterbalanced by the de- 
 struction of the flotilla on the Nile, u°°er E'-°^t 
 containing the wounded and ammu- ^^""^ °^^ ' 
 nition of Desaix's division, and which, when 
 on the point of being taken by the Arabs, was 
 blown up by the othcer commanding it. At length 
 Davoust gave a final blow to the incursions of the 
 Arabs by the defeat of a large body at Benyhady, 
 when above two thousand men were slain. Af- 
 ter this disaster. Upper Egypt was thoroughly 
 subdued, and the French division took up its 
 cantonments in the villages which formed the 
 southern limits of the Roman Empire.* Such 
 was the wisdom arid equity of Desaix's admin- 
 istration in those distant provinces, that it pro- 
 cured for him the appellation of " Sultan the 
 Just."ti 
 
 Napoleon, ever anxious to conceal his rever- 
 ses, made a sort of triumphal entry upon his re- 
 turn into Cairo, and published a deceitful proc- 
 lamation, in which he boasted of having conquer- 
 ed in all his engagements, and ruined the fortifi- 
 cations of the Pacha of Acre. In truth, though 
 he had failed in the principal object of his expe- 
 dition, he had effectually prevented an invasion 
 from the side of Syria by the terror which his 
 arms had inspired, and the desolation which he 
 had occasioned on the frontiers of the Desert; 
 and he had abundant reason to pride himself 
 upon the vast achievemenis of the inconsidera- 
 ble body of men whom he led to these hazardous 
 exploits. § 
 
 The discontents of the army increased to the 
 highest degree after the disastrous issue Great dis- 
 of the Syrian expedition. They did not contents in 
 arise from apprehensions of danger, but "'<^ armj. 
 the desire to return home, which tormented their 
 minds the farther that it seemed removed from 
 the bounds of probability. Every day some gen- 
 erals or officers demanded, under various pre- 
 texts, leave of absence to return to Europe, which 
 was always granted, though with such cutting 
 expressions as rendered the concession the object 
 of dread to every honourable mind. Berthier 
 himself, consumed by a romantic passion for a 
 lady at Paris, twice solicited and obtained his 
 dismissal, and twice relinquished the project, 
 from a sense of honourable shame at abandon- 
 ing his benefactor. "With Kleber the general-in- 
 chief had several warm altercations, and to such 
 a height did the dissatisfaction rise, that the 
 whole army, soldiers and officers, for a time en- 
 tertained the design of marching from Cairo to 
 Alexandria, to await the first opportunity of re- 
 
 * Jom., xi., 420, 425, 428. Dum., ii., 225, 227. Th., ii., 
 393. t Sav., 1., 96. 
 
 t Perhaps the private correspondence of few conqueroi-s 
 would bear the light ; but, unhappily, the confidential let- 
 ters and orders of Napoleon at this period bear evidence of 
 too much and unnecessary cruelty. On the 28th of June, 
 1799, he wrote to General Uugua : " You will cause to be 
 shot, citizen general, Joseph, a native of Clierkene, near the 
 Black Sea, and Selim, a native of Constantinople, both pris- 
 oners in the citadel." On the 12th of July ; " You will 
 cause to be shot, Hassan, Jousset, Ibrahim, Saleh, Moham- 
 med Bekir, Hadj Saleh, Mustapha Mohammed, all Mame- 
 lukes." And on the 13th of July : "You will cause to be 
 shot, Lachin and Emir Mohammed, Mamelukes." What 
 crimes these persons had been guilty of towards the French 
 army does not appear; but from the circumstance of their 
 execution being; intrusted to the French officers, and not to 
 the civil authorities of the country, there seems no reason to 
 believe that they had done anything farther than taken a 
 share in the effort to liberate their country from the yoke of 
 the French ; au attempt which, however much it might au- 
 thorize measures of hostility in the field, could never justify 
 executions m prison, without trial, in cold blood. — Corresp. 
 Confid. de Nap., vi., 374, 392, 394. 
 
 t) Th., I., 394. Bout., li., 266, 267. 
 
526 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 turning home — a project which the great person- 
 al ascendant of Napoleon alone prevented them 
 from carr)'ing into etfect.*t 
 
 Influenced by an ardent desire to visit the in- 
 Landino- of destructible monuments of ancient 
 the Turks in grandeur at Thebes, Napoleon was 
 AboukirBay. on the point of setting out for Upper 
 Egypt, when a courier from Marmont, govern- 
 or of Alexandria, announced the disembarcation 
 of a large body of Turks in Aboukir Bay. They 
 had appeared there on the 10th of July, and land- 
 ed, under the protection of the Brit- 
 July 11, 1799. -yj^ jj^Yy, on the following day. 
 This intelligence was received by him on the 
 evening of the I5th at Cairo ; he sat up all night, 
 dictating orders for the direction of all the divis- 
 ions of his army, and on the 16th, at four in the 
 morning, he was on horseback, and all his troops 
 in full march. On the 23d he arrived at Alex- 
 andria with the divisions of Murat, Lannes, and 
 Bon, where he joined the garrison under Mar- 
 mont, which had not ventured to leave its in- 
 trenchments in presence of such formidable en- 
 emies. The division of Desaix was at the same 
 time ordered to fall back to Cairo from Upper 
 Egypt, so that, if necessary, the whole French 
 force might be brought to the menaced point. 
 Mourad Bey, in concert with the Turks at Abou- 
 kir, descended from Upper Egypt with three thou- 
 sand horse, intending to cut his way across to the 
 forces which had landed kt Aboukir ; but 
 July 14- jie was met and encountered near the 
 Lake Natron by Murat, at the head of a body of 
 cavalry, and, after a severe action, obliged to re- 
 trace his steps, and take refuge in the Desert.J 
 
 The army, which landed at Aboukir nine thou- 
 sand strong, consisting of the forces 
 Force of the ^,hjch had arrived at the close of the 
 invaders. ^{QgQ at Acre from Rhodes, and had 
 been transported thence to the mouth of the Nile 
 by Sir Sydney Smith's squadron, though almost 
 destitute of cavalry, was much more formidable 
 than any which the French troops had yet en- 
 countered in the East. It was composed, not of 
 the miserable fellahs who constituted the sole 
 infantry of the Mamelukes, but of intrepid jani- 
 zaries, admirably equipped and well disciplined, 
 accustomed to discharge their firelock, and tlirow 
 themselves on the enemy with a sabre in one 
 hand and a pistol in the other. The artillery of 
 those troops was numerous and well served; 
 they were supported by the British squadron ; 
 and they had recently made themselves masters 
 
 * Th., X., 394, 395. Bour., ii., 298, 303. 
 
 t It deserves notice, as an indication of the total disre- 
 gard of Napoleon and the French army for the Christian re- 
 ligion, that all his proclamations and addresses to the pow- 
 ers or people of Egypt or the East at this period, set out 
 wilh the words, " In the name of the merciful God ; there 
 is but one God, and Mohammed is his prophet." — See Let- 
 ters to Sultan Darfour, 30th of June, 1799, and 17th of July, 
 1799 ; to the Schcrif of Afecca, 30th of June, 1799 ; Procla- 
 matwn to the People of Egypt, 17th of July, 1799 ; and to 
 the Sultans of Morocco ami Tripoli, 16lh of August, 1799.— 
 See Corresp. Confid. de Nap., vi., 377, 391, 402, 436. "Af- 
 ter all," said he, at St. Helena, " it is by no means impossi- 
 ble that circumstances might have induced me to embrace 
 Islamism ; but I would not have done so till I came to the 
 Euphrates. Ileniy IV. said truly, Paris is worth a mass. 
 Do you think the Empire of the East, possibly the subjuga- 
 tion of all Asia, was not worth a turban and trousers, for, af- 
 ter all, the matter comes to that ? The army would un- 
 doubtedly have joined in it, and would only have made a 
 joke of its conversion. Consider the consequences ; I would 
 have taken Europe in rear; its old institutions would have 
 been beset on all sides ; and who, after that, would have 
 thought of interrupting the destinies of France, or the re- 
 generation of the age V — Las Casas, iii., 91. 
 t Nap., ii., 323. Bour., 304. 
 
 of the fort of Aboukir, after putting its garrison 
 of three hundred men to the sword. I'his I'ort 
 was situated at the neck of an isthmus of sand, 
 on which the Turkish forces were disembarked > 
 the peninsula there is not above four hundred 
 toises in breadth, so that the possession of it 
 gave them a secure place of retreat in case of 
 disaster. It was the more necessary to get quit 
 of this army, as there was reason to expect that 
 a new host of invaders would ere long make 
 their appearance on the side of Syria.* 
 
 Napoleon arrived within sight of the peninsula 
 of Aboukir on the 25th of July, and, position which 
 though his force did not exceed the Turks oc- 
 eight thousand men, including Kle- cupied. 
 ber's division, which had just arrived, and was 
 in reserve, he no sooner saw the dispositions of 
 the enemy than he resolved to make an imme- 
 diate attack. The Turks occupied the penin- 
 sula, and had covered the approach to it with 
 two lines of intrenchments. The first, which 
 ran across the neck of land, about a mile in front 
 of the village of Aboukir, from the Lake Maadi- 
 eh to the sea, extended between two mounts of 
 sand, each of which was strongly occupied, and 
 covered with artillery, and was supported in the 
 centre by a village, which was garrisoned by 
 two thousand men. The second, a mile in the 
 rear, was strengthened in the centre by the fort 
 constructed by the French, and terminated at one 
 extremity in the sea,t at the other in the lake. 
 Between the two lines was placed the camp. 
 The first line was guarded by four thousand 
 men, the latter by five thousand, and supported 
 by twelve pieces of cannon, besides those mount- 
 ed on the lort.t 
 
 The dispositions of the general were speedily 
 made. Lannes, with two thousand ^^apoieon's dis- 
 men. attacked the right of the first positions for an 
 line ; D'Estaing, with the like force, attack. First 
 the left; while Murat, whose cav- ^'"^ earned, 
 airy was arranged in three divisions, was des- 
 tined at once to pierce the centre and turn both 
 wings, so as to cut off all communication with 
 the reserve in the second intrenchment. These 
 measures were speedily crowned with success. 
 The Turks maintained their ground on the 
 height on the left till they saw it turned by Mu- 
 ral's cavalry; but the moment that was done, 
 they fled in confusion to the second line, and be- 
 ing" charged in their flight by the French horse, 
 rushed tumultuously into the water, where al- 
 most the whole were either drowned or cut down 
 by grapeshot. The same thing occurred at the 
 other extremity of the line. Lannes attacked the 
 height on the right, while the other division of 
 Murat's cavalry turned it. The Turks fled at 
 the first onset, and were driven by Murat into 
 the sea. Lannes and D'Estaing, now united, at- 
 tacked the village in the centre. The janizaries 
 defended themselves bravely, calculating on be- 
 ing supported from the second line ; but the col- 
 umn detached for that purpose from the fort of 
 
 * Th., X., 397. Dum., u., 227. Nap., ii., 326, 328. Wil- 
 son's Egypt. 29. 
 
 t Jom., xii., 295, 296. Th., x., 399. Nap., ii., 331, 332. 
 Dum., ii., 232. 
 
 t So strongly was the mind of Napoleon already impressed 
 by the great destinies to which he conceived himself called, 
 that when he arrived in sight of these intrenchments, he 
 said to Murat, "This battle will decide the fate of the 
 world." " At least of this army," replied the other ; " but 
 you should feel confidence from the circumstance that all 
 the soldiers feel they must now conquer ordie. The enemy 
 have no cavalry ; ours is brave ; and be assured, if ever in- 
 fantry were charged to the teeth by cavalry, the Turks shall 
 be to-morrow by mine."— Miot, 249. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 537 
 
 Aboukir having been charged in the interval be- 
 tween the two lines, and routed by Murat, the 
 village was at length carried with the bayonet, 
 and its defenders, who refused ail quarter, put to 
 the sword, or drowned in the water.* 
 
 The extraordinary success of this first attack 
 Second line inspired Napoleon with the hope 
 also forced, that, by repeating the same manoeu- 
 after a despe- vre With the second, the whole re- 
 rate struggle, niainder of the army might be de- 
 stroyed. For this purpose, after allowing a few 
 hours' repose to the troops, and establishing a 
 battery to protect their operations, he commenced 
 a new attack upon the interior and more formi- 
 dable line of defence. On the right a trench 
 joined the fort of Aboukir to the sea ; but on the 
 left it was not carried quite so far, leaving a 
 small open space between the intrenchment and 
 the Lake Maadieh. Napoleon's dispositions were 
 made accordingly. On the right, D'Estaing was 
 to attack the intrenchment, while the principal 
 effort was directed against the left, where the 
 whole cavalry, marching under cover of Lannes' 
 division, Avere to enter at the open space, be- 
 tween the trenches and the lake, and take the 
 line in rear. At three o'clock the charge was 
 beat, and the troops advanced to the attack. 
 D'Estaing led his men gallantly forward, ar- 
 ranged in echellon of battalions ; but the Turks, 
 transported by their ardour, advanced out of 
 their intrenchments to meet them, and a bloody 
 conflict took place in the plain. In vain the jan- 
 izaries, after discharging their fusils and pistols, 
 rushed to the attack with their fonnidable sabres 
 in the air; their desperate valour at length yield- 
 ed to the steady pressure of the European bayo- 
 net, and they were borne back, struggling every 
 inch of ground, to the foot of the intrenchments. 
 Here, however, the plunging fire of the re- 
 doubt, and the sustained discharge of musketry 
 from the top of the works, arrested the French 
 soldiers ; Letourcq was killed, Fuguries wound- 
 ed, and the column, in disorder, recoiled from 
 the field of carnage towards the exterior line. 
 Nor was Murat more successful on his side. 
 Lannes, indeed, forced the intrenchments to- 
 wards the extremity of the lake, and occupied 
 some of the houses in the village ; but when the 
 cavalry attempted to pass the narrow defile be- 
 tween the works and the lake, they were assailed 
 by such a terrible fire from the gunboats that 
 they were repeatedly forced to retire. The at- 
 tack had failed at both extremities, and Napo- 
 leon was doubtful whether he should continue 
 the combat, or rest contented -with the advantage 
 already gained. t 
 
 From this perplexity he was relieved by the 
 Total de- imprudent conduct of the Turks them- 
 structionof sclvcs. No sooucr did they see the 
 the Turks, column which had assailed their right 
 retire, than they rushed out of the fort of Aboukir, 
 in the centre, and began to cut off the heads of 
 the dead bodies which lay scattered over the 
 plain. Napoleon instantly saw his advantage, 
 and quickly turned it to the best account. Ad- 
 vancing rapidly with his reserves in admirable 
 order, he arrested the sortie of the centre, while 
 Lannes returned to the attack of the intrench- 
 ments, now in a great measure denuded of their 
 defenders, and D'Estaing re-formed his troops for 
 another etTort on the lines to the right. All these 
 attacks proved successful ; the whole line of re- 
 
 ' Th., I., 400. Jom, xii..293. Nap., ii., 334. 
 t Miot, 251. Jom.. xii., 299, 300. Dum., ii., 234. Th., 
 X,, 402. Nap., ii., 335. 
 
 doubts, now almost destitute of troops, was cap- 
 tured, while several squadrons, in the confusion, 
 penetrated through the narrow opening on the 
 margin of the lake, and got into the rear of the 
 second line. The Turks, upon this, fled in con- 
 fusion towards the fort of Aboukir ; but the cav- 
 alry of Murat, which now inundated the space 
 between the second line and the fort, charged 
 them so furiously in flank that they were throwTx 
 into the sea, and almost all perished in the 
 waves. Murat penetrated into the camp of Mus- 
 tapha Pacha, where, with his own hand, he mads 
 that commander prisoner, and shut up the rem:- 
 nant of the army, amounting to about two thou- 
 sand men, in the fort of Aboukir. Heavy can- 
 non were immediately planted against the fort, 
 which surrendered a few days after. „„ , . 
 Five thousand corpses floated in the " ^' 
 
 Bay of Aboukir, two thousand had perished in 
 the battle, and the like number were made pris- 
 oners of war in the fort. Hardly any escaped — a 
 circumstance almost unexampled in modem 
 warfare.* 
 
 The day after this extraordinary battle. Napo- 
 leon returned to Alexandria. He .. . 
 had ample subject for meditation, j^^^g a°" '^ 
 Sir Sydney Smith, having despatch- quaiuted with 
 ed a flag of truce on shore to settle ti^e disasters 
 an exchange of prisoners, sent some o' the Repub- 
 
 ci r t^ ^■ I. \.- i. licm Europe; 
 
 files 01 English newspapers, which "^ 
 
 made him acquainted with the disasters experi- 
 enced by the Directory in Europe, the conquest 
 of Italy, the reverses in the Alps, the retreat to 
 Zurich. At the same time, he learned the capture 
 of Corfu by the Russians and English, and the 
 close blockade which promised soon to deliver 
 over Malta to the same power. His resolution 
 was instantly taken. He determined to return, 
 alone, braving the English fleets, to Europe. All 
 prospects of great success in Egypt were at an 
 end, and he now only wished to regain the scene 
 of his early triumphs and primitive ambition in 
 France. Orders were immediately given that 
 two frigates, the Muiron and the Carrera, should 
 be made ready for sea, and Napoleon, preserving 
 the utmost secrecy as to his intended departure, 
 proceeded to Cairo, where he drew up long and 
 minute instructions for Kleber, to whom the 
 command of the army was intrusted, and imme- 
 diately returned to Alexandria.t 
 
 On the 22d of August he secretly set out from 
 that town, accompanied by Berthier, ggj August. 
 Lannes, Murat, Marmont, Andreos- He secretly' 
 sy, Berthollet, Monge, and Bourrien- sets sail for 
 ne, and escorted only by a few of his Europe from 
 faithful guides. The party embarked ''*''° 
 on a solitary part of the beach on board a few 
 fishing boats, which conveyed them out to the 
 frigates, which lay at a little distance from the 
 shore. The joy which animated all these per- 
 sons when they were told that they were to return 
 to France, can hardly be conceived. Desirous 
 to avoid a personal altercation with Kleber, 
 whose rude and fearless demeanour led him to 
 apprehend some painful sally of passion on re- 
 ceiving the intelligence. Napoleon communicated 
 to him his resolution by letter, which he was 
 aware could not reach Cairo till several days 
 after his departure. Kleber afi;erward expressed 
 the highest indignation at that circumstance, and 
 in a long and impassioned report to the Direc- 
 
 * Nap., ii., 336, 338. Th., x., 402, 403. Jom., xii., 30&j 
 301. Dum., ii., 235, 237. Wilson's E?vpt, 29. 
 
 t .lom., iii., 302. Th., x., 405. Bour., ii., 305. Dum., 
 ii., 240. 
 
528 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXV. 
 
 tory, charged Napoleon with leaving the army in 
 such a state of destitution, that the defence of the 
 country for any length of time was impossible.* 
 
 It was almost dark when the boats reached the 
 frigates, and the distant lights of Alexandria 
 were faintly descried by the glimmering of the 
 stars on the verge of the horizon. How different 
 from the pomp and circumstance of war which 
 attended his arrival on the same shore, in the 
 midst of a splendid fleet, surrounded by a power- 
 ful army, with the visions of hope glittering be- 
 fore his eyes, and dreams of Oriental conquest 
 captivating his imagination ! Napoleon directed 
 He steers ^^'^^ the ships should Steer along the 
 alongthe coast coast of Africa, in order that, if es- 
 of Africa. cape from the English cruisers be- 
 came impossible, he might land on the deserts of 
 Lybia, and force his way to Tunis, Oran, or some 
 other port, declaring that he would run any dan- 
 ger rather than return to Egypt. For tliree-and- 
 twenty days they beat against adverse winds 
 along the coast of Africa, and at length, afler 
 passing the site of Carthage, a favourable wind 
 from the southeast enabled them to stretch across 
 to the western side of Sardinia, still keeping near 
 the shore, in order to run aground, if necessarj', 
 to avoid the approach of an enemy. The som- 
 bre disquietude of this voyage afforded the most 
 striking contrast to the brilliant anticipations of 
 the former. His favourite aids-de-camp were 
 all killed; Caffarelli, Brueys, Casa Bianca, were 
 no more ; the illusions of hope were dispelled, 
 the visions of imagination extinguished ; no more 
 scientific conversations enlivened the weary 
 hours of navigation, no more historical recollec- 
 tions gilded the headlands which they passed. 
 One only apprehension occupied every mind, 
 the dread of falling in with English cruisers ; an 
 object of rational disquietude to every one on 
 board, but of mortal anxiety to Napoleon, from 
 the destruction which it would occasion to the 
 iresh ambitious projects which already filled his 
 mind.t 
 
 Contrary winds obliged the vessel which con- 
 Ile lands at veyed him to put into Ajaccio in Cor- 
 Ajaccio ill sica, where he revisited, for the first 
 Corsica. time since his prodigious elevation, 
 the house of his fathers and the scenes of his in- 
 fancy. He there learned the result of the battle 
 of Novi and the death of Joubert. This only in- 
 creased the feverish anxiety of his mind; and he 
 began to contemplate with horror the ennui of the 
 quarantine at Toulon, where he proposed to land. 
 His project at times was to make for Italy, take 
 the command of the Italian army, and gain a vic- 
 tory, the intelligence of which he hoped would 
 reach Paris as soon as that of his victory at 
 Sets sail, and Aboukir. At length, after a sojourn 
 avoids the of eight days at the place of his nativ- 
 English fleet, jty^ he Set sail with a fair wind. On 
 the following evening, an English fleet of four- 
 teen sail was descried in the midst of the rays of 
 the setting sun. Admiral Gantheaume proposed 
 to return to Corsica, but Napoleon replied, "No. 
 Spread every sail ; every man to his post ; steer 
 for the northwest." This order proved the .sal- 
 vation of the ships; the English saw the frigates, 
 and made signals to them, but concluding, from 
 the view they got with their glasses, that they 
 were of Venitian construction, then at peace with 
 Great Britain, they did not give chase. The 
 night was spent in the utmost anxiety, during 
 v/hich Napoleon resolved, if escape was impos- 
 
 * Bour., ii., 313, 314. 
 
 t Bour., iii., 5, 6, 
 
 sible, to throw himself into a boat, and trust for 
 safety to his oars ; but the morning sun dispelled 
 these apprehensions, by disclosing the English 
 fleet steering peaceably towards the northeast. 
 All sail was now spread for France ; gth Oct. 
 and at length, on the 8th of October, the Lands ia 
 long-wished-for mountains of Provence France, 
 appeared, and the frigates shortly after anchored 
 in the Bay of Frejus. The impatience and enthu- 
 siasm of the inhabitants, when they heard of his 
 arrival, knew no bounds; the sea was covered 
 with boats, eager to get a glimpse of the Conquer- 
 or of the East;* the quarantine laws were, by 
 common consent, disregarded ; and Napoleon 
 landed in a few hours, and set ofl' the same day 
 for Paris. 
 
 The expedition to Egypt demonstrates one 
 fact of more importance to man- v, i, >, 
 
 kind than the transitory conquests Eryptiln Lxped^- 
 of civilized nations over each tion affords of the 
 other. It can no longer be doubt- superiority of civ- 
 ed, from the constant triumphs of '''^'^'^ '° savage 
 a small body of European troops 
 over the whole forces of the East, that the inven- 
 tion of firearms and artillery, the improvement 
 of discipline, and the establishment of regular, 
 soldiers as a separate profession, have given the 
 European a decided superiority over the other 
 nations of the world. Europe, in the words of 
 Gibbon, may now contemplate without appre- 
 hension an irruption of the Tartar horse ; bar- 
 barous nations, to overcome the civilized, must 
 cease to be barbarous. The progress of this su- 
 periority since the era of the Crusades is ex- 
 tremely remarkable. On the same ground where 
 the whole feudal array of France perished, imder 
 St. Louis, from the arrows of the Egj'ptians, the 
 Mameluke cavalry was dispersed hy half the 
 Italian army of the Republic ; and ten thousand 
 \'eterans could with ease have wrested that Holy 
 Land from the hordes of Asia, which Saladin 
 successfully defended against the united forces 
 of France and England under Richard Coeur de 
 Lion. Civilization, therefore, has given Europe 
 a decided superiority over barbaric valour; ii it 
 is a second time ovei-whelmed by savage violence, 
 it will not be because the means of resistance are 
 wanting, but because the courage to wield them 
 has decayed. 
 
 It is a curious speculation what would have 
 been the fate of Asia and the world q ^ , 
 if Napoleon had not been arrested tions^on the^*^ 
 at Acre by Sir Sydney Smith, and probable fate of 
 had accomplished his project of an Eastern em- 
 arming the Christian population of P";<' ""'J*^'' ^a- 
 
 r, ■ ° lA. •»»■ • »^ii_ poleon. 
 
 Syria and Asia Mmor against the 
 Mussulman power. When it is recollected that 
 in the parts of the Ottoman Empire where the 
 Turkish population is most abundant, the num- 
 ber of Christians is in general triple that of their 
 oppressors, there can be little doubt that, headed 
 by that great general, and disciplined by the 
 French veterans, a force could have been fbiTned 
 which would have subverted the tottering fabric 
 of the Turkish power, and possibly secured for 
 its ruler a name as terrible as Genghis Khan or 
 Tamerlane. But there seems no reason to be- 
 lieve that such a sudden apparition, how splendid 
 soever, would have pennanently altered the des- 
 tinies of mankind, or that the Oriental empire 
 of Napoleon would have been more lasting than 
 that of Alexander or Nadir Shah. With the life 
 of the hero who had formed, with the energy of 
 
 * Th., X., 430, 431. Bour., iii., 13, 16, 20. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 529 
 
 the veterans %vho had cemented it, the vast domin- 
 ion would have perished. The Crusades, though 
 supported lor above a century by the incessant 
 tide of European enthusiasm, were unable to 
 form a lasting establishment in Asia. It is in a 
 different region, from the arms of another power, 
 that we are to look for the permanent .subjuga- 
 tion of the Asiatic powers, and the final establish- 
 ment of the Christian religion in the regions from 
 ■which it sprung. The North is the quarter from 
 ■whence all the great settlements of mankind have 
 come, and by its inhabitants all the lasting con- 
 quests of history have been effected. Napoleon 
 
 indirectly paved the way for a permanent revolu- 
 tion in the East; but it was destined to be ac- 
 complished, not by the capture of Acre, but the 
 conflagration of Moscow. The recoil of his am- 
 bition to Europe, which the defeat in Syria occa- 
 sioned, still farther increased by mutual slaughter 
 the warlike skill of the European states; and 
 from the strife of civilization at last has arisen 
 that gigantic power which now overshadows the 
 Asiatic empires, and is pouring down upon the 
 corrupted regions of the East the energy of North- 
 ern valour and the blessings of Christian civiliza- 
 tion. 
 
 CH.\PTER XXVI. 
 
 FROM THE PEACE OF CAMPO FORMIO TO THE RENEWAL OF THE WAR. 
 OCTOBER, 1797 — MARCH, 1799. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 •Vievfs of the different Parties on the War. — Fair Opportu- 
 nity afforded to France of pursuing a pacific System after 
 ttie Treaty of (Jampo Formio. — Limited Estimates for the 
 Year in Britain. — Establishment of tlie Volunteer System 
 in these Islands. — Its great Etfects. — Finances of France. 
 
 — National Uaukruplcy there. — External Policy of the 
 Directory. — Attack upon Holland. — Its Situation since the 
 French Conquest. — Measures of the French Directory to 
 Revolutionize that State. — Tyrannical Acts of the Dutch 
 Directory. — Political State of S%yitzerland. — Inequality 
 of Political Rights in the different Cantons. — Measures 
 of the. Discontented to bring on a Contest with the Swiss 
 Diet. — Powerful impression which they produce in the 
 subject Cantons. — First open Acts of Hostility by tlie 
 French. — This is all done under the Direction of Napo- 
 leon. — Consternation in consequence excited in Switzer- 
 land. — Tlie Aristocratic Party make some Concessions. — 
 Hostilities commence in the Pays de Vaud. — Heroic Con- 
 duct of the Mountaineers. — Coramenceraent of Hostilities 
 in the Canton of Berne. — Surrender of Soleure and Fri- 
 bourg. — Bloody Battle before Berne. — Heroic Resolution 
 of the Swiss, their dreadful Excesses after Defeat. — Cap- 
 ture of Berne, its Treasure, and Arsenal. — Enormous 
 Contributions everywhere levied by the French. — New 
 Constitution of Switzerland. — Generous Efforts of the 
 Mountaineers. — Arguments by which they were roused 
 by the Clergy. — Aloys Reding. — First Successes, and ulti- 
 mate Disasters of the Peasants.— Heroic Defence of the 
 Schwytzers at Morgarten. — Bloody Conflicts in the Valais. 
 — Oppressive Conduct of the French to the Inhabitants. — 
 An Alliance OlTensive and Defensive with France is forced 
 upon Switzerland. — Glorious Resistance of Uri, Schwytz, 
 and Underwalden. — Cruel Massacre by the French. — The 
 Orisons invoke the ^id of Austria, which occupies their 
 Country. — Extreme Impolicy, as well as Iniquity, of this 
 Attack on Switzerland. — Great Indignation excited by it 
 in Europe. — Attack on the Papal States. — Miserable Sit- 
 uation of the Pope. — Measures of Napoleon, and the 
 French Government, to hasten the Catastrophe of the Pa- 
 pal Government. — Duphot is slain in a Scuffle at the 
 French Ambassador's. — War is in Consequence declared 
 by France against Rome. — Berthier advances to Rome. — 
 Revolution there. — Atrocious Cruelty of the Republicans 
 to the Pope. — Their continued Severity towards him. — He 
 is removed into France, and there dies. — Systematic and 
 Abominable Pillage of Rome by the Republicans. — Con- 
 fiscation of the Church Property in the whole Papal Ter- 
 ritories. — These Disorders excite even the Indignation of 
 the French Army. — Great Mutiny at Rome and Mantua. — 
 Revolt of the Roman Populace. — Its bloody Suppression. 
 
 — The whole Papal States are Revolutionized. — New 
 Constitution and Alliance with France. — Violent Changes 
 effected by the French in the Cisalpine Republic. — Ex- 
 cessive Discontent excited by these Changes in Lombar- 
 dy. — The Spoliation of the King of Sardinia is resolved 
 on. — Cruel Humiliations to *vhich he had previously been 
 subjected. — The King is reduced to the condition of a 
 Prisoner in his own Capital. — He is at length forced to 
 Alidicate, and retire to Sardinia. — Affairs of Naples. — 
 Their Military Preparations. — The Court enter into secret 
 Engagements with Austria, and are encouraged to resist 
 by the Battle of the Nile.— On Nelson's Arrival at Naples, 
 Hostilities are rashly resolved on.— Forces levied by the 
 French in the atiiUated Republics. — Mack takes the Com- 
 
 Xxx 
 
 mand at Naples. — Dispersed Situation of the French 
 Troops in the Roman States. — The Neapolitans enter 
 Rome. — They are everywhere defeated when advancing 
 farther. — Fresh Disasters of the Neapolitans — Retreat 
 of Mack. — The Neapolitan Court take Refuge on hoard 
 the English Fleet. — Championnet resolves to invade Na- 
 ples. — His Plan of Operations, and surprising Success. — 
 Cntical Situation of the French Army in front of Capua. — 
 Mack proposes an Armistice, which is gladly accepted. — 
 Indignation which it excites among the Neapolitan Popu- 
 lace. — Advance of the French against Naples. — Desperate 
 Resistance of the Lazzaroni. — Frightful Combats around 
 the Capital. — The French force the Gates aW Forts. — 
 Bloody Conflicts in the Streets. — Establishmeat of the 
 Parthenopian Republic. — State of Ireland. — Reflectimis 
 on the melancholy History of that Country. — Original 
 Evil arising from Confiscation of Land. — Peculiar Causes 
 which have aggravated this Evil in that Country. — Its 
 Inhabitants are as yet unfit for Free Privileges. — Intimate 
 Union formed by the Irish Malecontents with France. — 
 Revolutionary Organization established throughout the 
 whole Country. — Combination of Orangemen to uphold 
 the British Connexion. — Treaty of Irish Rebels with 
 France. — The Insurrection at length breaks out. — Vari- 
 ous Actions with the Insurgents. — They are totally De- 
 feated at Vinegar liiU. — Imminent Danger from which 
 England then escaped. — Nugatory Efforts of the Directory 
 to revive the Insurrection. — Maritime Affairs of the Year. 
 — Disputes of France with the United States. — Shameful 
 Rapacity of the French Government. — Contributions levi- 
 ed on the Hanse Towns by the Directory. — Retrospect of 
 the late Encroachments of France. — Their System ren- 
 dered the Continuance of Peace impossible. — Leads to a 
 general Feeling in Favour of a Confederacy, in which 
 Russia joins. — Tumult at Vienna, and Insult to the 
 French Ambassador, who leaves the Austrian Capital. 
 — Progress of the Negotiation at Rastadt. — The Secret 
 Understanding between France and Austria is made mani- 
 fest.— Financial Measures of the Directory to meet the 
 approaching Hostilities. — Adoptionof the Lawof the Con- 
 scription by the Legislature. — Reflections on this Event. 
 
 The two great parlies into which the civilized 
 world had been divided by the French Revolu- 
 tion, entertained different sentiments in regard 
 to the necessity of the war which had so long 
 been waged by the aristocratic monarchies 
 against its unruly authority. The partisans of 
 Democracy alleged that the whole views of the 
 misfortunes of Europe, and all the dirt'erent par- 
 crimes of France, had arisen from ties on the 
 the iniquitous coalition of kings to ^^''"'• 
 overturn its infant freedom ; that if its govern- 
 ment had been left alone, it would neither have 
 stained its hands with innocent blood at home, 
 nor pursued plans of aggrandizement abroad ; 
 and that the Republic, relieved from the pressure 
 of external danger, and no longer roused by the 
 call of patriotic duty, would have quietly turned 
 its swords into pruning-hooks, and, renouncing 
 the allurements of foreign conquest, thought only 
 
530 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVL 
 
 of promoting the internal felicity of its citizens. 
 The aristocratic parly, on the other hand, main- 
 tained that Democracy is, in its very essence and 
 from necessity, ambitious ; that the turbulent ac- 
 tivity which it calls forth, the energetic courage 
 ■which it awakens, the latent talent which it de- 
 velops, can find vent only in the enterprise of 
 foreign warfare ; that, being founded on popular 
 passion, and supported by the most vehement 
 and enthusiastic classes in the state, it is driven 
 into external aggression as the only means of al- 
 laying internal discontent ; that it advances be- 
 fore a devouring flame, which, the instant it 
 stops, threatens to consume itself; and that, in 
 the domestic suffering which it engenders, and 
 the stoppage of pacific industry which necessarily 
 results from its convulsions, is to be found both 
 a more cogent inducement to foreign conquest, 
 and more formidable means for carrying it on, 
 than either the ambition of kings or the rivalry 
 of their ministers. 
 
 Had the Revolutionary war continued without 
 interruption from its commencement in 1792 till 
 its conclusion in 1815, it might have been diffi- 
 cult to have determined which of these opinions 
 "was the better founded. The ideas of men would 
 probably have been divided upon them till the 
 end of time ; and to whichever side the philo- 
 sophic observer of human events, who traced the 
 history of Democratic societies in time past, had 
 inclined, the great body of mankind, who judge 
 merely from the event, would have leaned to the 
 one or the other, according as their interests or 
 their affections led them to espouse the conserva- 
 tive or the innovating order of things. 
 
 It is fortunate, therefore, for the cause of his- 
 Fair opportu- toric truth, and the lessons to be 
 Dity afforded drawn from past calamity in future 
 to France of times, that two years of Continental 
 crfiTsy"^^"" P'^^c^ followed "the first six years of 
 after the peace this bloody contest, and that the Re- 
 of Campo For- publican government, relieved of 
 ™"'- all grounds of apprehension from 
 
 foreign powers, and placed with uncontrolled 
 authority at the head of the vast population of 
 France, had so fair an opportunity presented of 
 carrying into effect its alleged pacific inclina- 
 tions. The coalition was broken down and de- 
 stroyed ; Spain had not only given up the contest, 
 but had engaged in a disastrous maritime war to 
 support the interests of the revolutionary state ; 
 Planders was incorporated with its territory, 
 "which had no boundaries but the Alps, the 
 Rhine, and the Pyrenees ; Holland was convert- 
 ed into an affiliated republic ; Piedmont was 
 crushed; Lombardy revolutionized, and its fron- 
 tier secured by Mantua and the fortified line of 
 the Adige; the Italian powers were overawed, 
 and had purchased peace by the most disgrace- 
 ful submissions, and the emperor himself had 
 retired from the strife, and gained the temporary 
 safety of his capital by the cession of a large 
 portion of his dominions. Great Britain alone, 
 firm and imsubdued, continued the war, but 
 "without either any definite military object, now 
 that the Continent was pacified, or the means of 
 shaking the military supremacy which the arms 
 of France had there acquired, and rather from 
 the determination of the Directory to break off 
 the recent negotiations, than any inclination on 
 the part of the English government to prolong, 
 at an enormous expense, an apparently hopeless 
 contest. To complete the means of restoring a 
 lasting peace which were at the disposal of the 
 French cabinet, the military spirit had signally 
 
 declined with the vast consumption of human 
 life in the rural departments during the war; the 
 armies were everywhere weakened by desertion ; 
 and the most ambitious general of the Republic, 
 with its finest army, was engaged in a doubtful 
 contest in Africa, without any means, to all ap- 
 pearance, of ever returning with his troops to the 
 scene of European ambition.* Now, therefore, 
 was the time when the pacific tendency of the 
 revolutionary system was to be put to the test, 
 and it was to be demonstrated, by actual experi- 
 ment, whether its existence was consistent with 
 the independence of the adjoining states. 
 
 The estimates and preparations of Great Brit- 
 ain for the year 1798 were suited to Lj^jted esti- 
 the defensive nature of the war in mates for the 
 which she was now to be engaged, year in Brit- 
 the cessation of all foreign subsidies, '*™- 
 and the approach of an apparently interminable 
 struggle to her own shores. The regular sol- 
 diers were fixed at one hundred and nine thou- 
 sand men, besides sixty-three thousand militia; 
 a force amply sufficient to ensure the safety of 
 her extensive dominions, considering the great 
 protection she received from her innumerable 
 fleets which guarded the seas. One hundred and 
 four ships of the line, and three hundred frigates 
 and smaller vessels, were put in commission, 
 manned by one hundred thousand seamen. Sup- 
 plies to the amount of i;'25, 500,000 were voted, 
 "w^hich, with a supplementary budget brought for- 
 ward on the 25th of April, 1798, in consequence 
 of the expenses occasioned by the threatened in- 
 vasion from France, amounted to j;28,450,000; 
 exclusive, of course, of the charges of the debt 
 and sinking fund.t 
 
 But in providing for these great expenses, Mr. 
 Pitt unfolded an important change in his finan- 
 cial policy, and made the first step towards a sys- 
 tem of taxation, which, although more burden- 
 some at the moment, is incomparably less op- 
 pressive in the end than that on which he had 
 previously proceeded. He stated that the time 
 had now arrived when the policy hitherto pur- 
 sued, of providing for all extraordinary expenses 
 by loan, could not be carried farther without evi- 
 dent danger to public credit ; that such a .system, 
 however applicable to a period when an extra- 
 ordinary and forced effort was to be made to 
 bring the war at once to a conclusion by means 
 of foreign alliances, was unsuitable to the length- 
 ened single-handed contest in which the nation 
 was at last, to all appearance, engaged; that the 
 great object now should be, to make the sum 
 raised within the year as nearly as possible equal 
 its expenditure, so as to entail no burden upon, 
 posterity ; and therefore he proposed, instead of 
 making the loan, as in former years, ^19,000,000, 
 to make it only Xl 2,000,000, and raise the ad- 
 ditional i;7,000,000 by means of trebling the 
 assessed taxes on house-windows, carriages, 
 and horses. By this means an addition of only 
 X8,000,000 wou'ld be made to the national debt, 
 because £4,000,000 would be paid off in the 
 course of the year by the sinking fund ; and, to 
 pay ofl' this £8,000,000, he proposed to keep on 
 the treble assessed taxes a year longer; so that, 
 at the expiration of that short period, no part of 
 the debt then contracted would remain a burden 
 on the nation. An admirable plan, and a near 
 approach to the only safe system of finance, that 
 of making the taxes raised within the year equal 
 its expenditure, but which was speedily aban- 
 
 * Jom., X., 284. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1798, 181, 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 531 
 
 doned amid the necessities and improvidence of 
 succeeding years.*t 
 
 The same period gave birth to another great 
 change in the military policy of Great Britain, 
 fraught in its ultimate results with most impor- 
 tant efl'ects, both upon the turn of the public 
 mind and the final issue of the war. This was 
 the Volunteer System, and the general arming of 
 the people. 
 
 During the uncertainty which prevailed as to 
 Establishment '^e destination of the great arma- 
 ofthevoiun- ments preparmg, both in the har- 
 teer system in bours of the Channel and the Med- 
 Great Bntaiu. jterranean, the British government 
 naturally felt the greatest anxiety as to the means 
 of providing for the national delence, wathout in- 
 curring a ruinous expense by the augmentation 
 of the regular army. The discipline of that 
 force was admirable, and its courage unques- 
 tioned ; but its numbers were limited, and it ap- 
 peared highly desirable to provide some subsid- 
 iary body which might furnish supplies of men to 
 fill the chasms which might be expected to occur- 
 in the troops of the line, in the event of a cam- 
 paign taking place on the British shores. For this 
 purpose the militia, which, in fact, was part of 
 the regular force, was obviously insufficient ; its 
 officers were drawn from a class from whom the 
 most effective military service was not to be 
 expected ; and under the pressure of the danger 
 •which was anticipated, government, with the 
 cordial approbation of the king, ventured upon 
 the bold, but, as it turned out, wise and fortunate 
 step, of allowing regiments of volunteers to be 
 raised in every part of the kingdom. On the 
 11th of April it was determined by the cabinet 
 to take this decisive step ; and soon after 
 a bill was brought into Parliament by the 
 secretary of war, Mr. Dundas, to permit the reg- 
 ular militia to volunteer to go to Ireland, and to 
 provide for the raising of volunteer corps in 
 every part of the kingdom. The speech which 
 he made on this occasion was worthy of an 
 English minister. Not attempting to conceal 
 the danger which menaced the country, he sought 
 only to rouse the determined spirit which might 
 resist it. " The truth," said he, "is undeniable, 
 that the crisis which is approaching must deter- 
 mine whether we are any longer to be ranked as 
 an independent nation. We must take the steps 
 which are best calculated to meet it; let us pro- 
 vide for the safety of the infirm, the aged, the 
 women, the children, and put arms into the 
 hands of the people. We must fortify the men- 
 aced points, accumulate forces round the capi- 
 tal, affix on the church doors the names of those 
 who have come forward as volunteers, and au- 
 thorize members of Parliament to hold commis- 
 sions in the army without vacating their seats. 
 I am well aware of the danger of intrusting 
 arms to the whole people without distinction. 
 I am no stranger to the disafiection, albeit much 
 diminished, which still lingers among us; I know 
 well that, under the mask of pursuing only sal- 
 utary reforms, many are still intent upon bring- 
 ing about a revolution, and for that purpose are 
 willing to enter into the closest correspondence 
 
 * James, ii., No. 6, App. Ann. Reg., 1798, 182, 184, 211. 
 Pari. Deb., xxxiii., 1042, 1066. 
 
 t Even in that very year it was, to a certain de^ee, 
 broken in upon ; the assessed taxes produced only £4,500,000 
 instead of £9,000,000, as was expected ; and the expenses 
 having increased to £3,000,000 beyond the estimates, the 
 loan was augmented to £15.000,000, exclusive of £2,000,000 
 for Ireland, besides £3,000,000 raised by means of exchequer 
 bills. 
 
 May 6. 
 
 with the avowed enemies of their country. But, 
 serious as is the danger of intrusting arms to a 
 people embracing a considerable portion of such 
 characters, it is nothing to the risk which we 
 should run, if, when invaded by the enemy, we 
 were unprepared with any adequate means of de- 
 fence. I trust to the good sense of the great body 
 of the people to resist the factious designs of such 
 enemies to their country. I trust that the patriot- 
 ism by which the immense majority of them are 
 animated, will preclude them from ever using 
 their arms but for worthy purposes: I trust to 
 the melancholy example which has been afford- 
 ed in the neighbouring kingdom of the conse- 
 quences of engaging in popular insurrection, for 
 a warning to all Britons who shall take up arms, 
 never to use them but in defence of their coun- 
 try or the support of our venerable Constitution." 
 So obvious was the danger to national indepen- 
 dence from the foreign invasion which was 
 threatened, that the bill passed the house with- 
 out opposition, and in a few weeks a hundred 
 and iilty thousand volunteers were in arms ia 
 Great Britain. Mr. Sheridan, as he always did 
 on such occasions, made a noble speech in sup- 
 port of government. Another bill, which at the 
 same time received the sanction of Parliament, 
 authorized the king, in the event of an invasion, 
 to call out the levy en masse of the population, 
 conferred extraordinary powers upon lords-lieu- 
 tenant and generals in command, lor the seizure, 
 on such a crisis, of horses and carriages, and 
 provided for the indemnification, at the public 
 expense, of such persons as might suffer in their 
 properties in consequence of these measures.* 
 At the same time, to guard against the insidious 
 system of French propagandism, the Alien Bill 
 was re-enacted, and the suspension of the Habeas 
 Corpus Act continued for another year. 
 
 The adoption of these measures indicates aa 
 important era in the war : that in which popular 
 energy was first appealed to, in order to combat 
 the Revolution ; and governments, resting on the 
 stubborn evidence of facts, confidently called 
 upon their subjects to join with them in resisting 
 a power which threatened to be equally destruc- 
 tive to the cottage and the throne. It was a step 
 worthy of England, the firstborn of modern free- 
 dom, to put arms into the hands of her people, to 
 take the lead in the great contest of general lib- 
 erty against Democratic tyranny ; and the event 
 proved that the confidence of government had 
 not been misplaced. In no instance did the vol- 
 unteer corps deviate from their duty, in none 
 did they swerve from the principles of patriotism 
 and loyalty which first brought them round the 
 standard of their country. With the uniform 
 which they put on, they cast off all the vacilla- 
 ting or ambiguous feelings of former years : with 
 the arms which they received, they imbibed the 
 firm resolution to defend the cause of England. 
 Even in the great manufacturing towns, 
 and the quarters where sedition had effect's.** 
 once been most prevalent, the volunteer 
 corps formed so many centres of loyalty, which 
 gradually expelled the former disafiection from 
 their neighbourhood ; and to nothing more thaa 
 this well-timed and judicious step was the sub- 
 sequent unanimity of the British Empire in the 
 prosecution of the war to be ascribed. Had it 
 been earlier adopted, it might have shaken the 
 foundations of society, and engendered all the 
 horrors of civil war ; subsequently it would 
 probably have come too late to develop the 
 * Pari. Hist., luiii., 1358, 1423, 1429, 1454. 
 
532 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVL 
 
 militar)' energy requisite for success in the con- 
 test. Nor were the effects of this great change 
 confined only to the British Isles ; it extended to 
 foreign nations and distant times; it gave the 
 first example of that touching development of 
 patriotic ardour which ailerward burned so 
 strongly in Spain, Austria, Pnissia, and Russia ; 
 and in the British volunteers of 1798 was found 
 the model of those dauntless bands by which, fif- 
 teen years afterward, the resurrection of the 
 Fatherland was accomplished. 
 
 While England was thus reaping the fruits, in 
 French finances, ^he comparatively prosperous state 
 National bank- of its finances and the united pa- 
 i-uptcy. triotism of its inhabitants, of the 
 
 good faith and stability of its government, the 
 French tasted, in a ruinous and disgracelul na- 
 tional bankruptcy, the natural consequences of 
 undue Democratic influence and revolutionary 
 convulsions. When the new government, estab- 
 lished by the revolution of the 18th Fructidor, 
 began to attend to the administration of the 
 finances, they speedily found that, without some 
 great change, and the sacrifice of a large class 
 of existing interests, it was impossible to carry 
 on the afiairs of the state. The resources of as- 
 signats and mandates were exhausted, and no- 
 thing remained but to reduce the most helpless 
 class, the public creditors, and by their nrin ex- 
 tricate the government from its embarrassments.* 
 As the income was calculated at the very high- 
 est possible rate, and the expenditure obviously 
 ■within its probable amount, it was evident that 
 some decisive measure was necessary to make 
 the one square with the other. For this purpose 
 they at once struck off hco thirds of the debt, and 
 thereby reduced its annual charge from 258 mill- 
 ions to 86.t To cover, indeed, the gross injus- 
 tice of this proceeding, the public creditors re- 
 ceived a paper, secured over the national do- 
 mains, to the extent of the remaining two thirds, 
 calculated at twenty years' purchase; but it was 
 ,_„_ at the time foreseen, what immedi- 
 ^^ ' ' ' '• ately happened, that, from the total 
 impossibility of these miserable fundholders turn- 
 ing to any account the national domains which 
 "u-ere thus tendered in payment of their claims, 
 the paper fell to a tenth part of the value at 
 which it was forced on their acceptance, and soon 
 became altogether unsaleable, so that the meas- 
 ure was to all intents and purposes a public 
 bankruptcy. Notwithstanding the enfeebled state 
 of the Legislature by the mutilations which fol- 
 lowed the I8th Fructidor, this measure excited a 
 warm opposition ; but at length the Revolution- 
 ary party prevailed, and it passed both councils 
 by a large majority. Yet such had been the ab- 
 ject destitution of the fundholders for many years, 
 in consequence of the unparalleled depreciation 
 of the paper circulation in which they were paid, 
 that this destruction of two thirds of their capital, 
 when accompanied by the payment of the interest 
 of the remainder in specie, was felt rather as a 
 
 * The most favourable view of the public revenue, and 
 ■which in the end proved to be greatly overcharged, only ex- 
 hibited an Income of 616,000,000 francs. 
 
 But the expenses of 
 
 the war were esti- 
 
 ledat 263,000,000 
 
 Other services 247,000,0U0 
 
 Interest of debt 256,000.000 
 
 "88,000,000 
 
 A nnual deficit 1 72,1 '00,000, or £7,000.000. 
 
 Beint; ji'.st about the same deficit which in 1789 was made 
 the pretext to justify the Revolution, 
 t See ante, ch. xxiv. 
 
 relief than a misfortune. Such were the conse- 
 quences, to the moneyed interest, of the Revolu- 
 tion, which they had so strongly supported, and 
 which they fondly imagined was to be an invinci- 
 ble rampart between them and national bank- 
 ruptcy.* 
 
 The external policy of the Directory soon 
 evinced that passion for foreign con- External policy 
 quest which is the unhappy charac- of the French 
 teristic of Democratic states, espe- Directory, 
 cially in periods of unusual fervour, and forms 
 the true vindication of the obstinate war which 
 was maintained against them by the European 
 monarchs. " The coalition," they contended, 
 " was less formed against France than against 
 the principles of the Revolution. Peace, it is 
 true, is signed ; but the hatred which the sover- 
 eigns have vowed against it is not, on that ac- 
 count, the less active ; and the chicanery which 
 the emperor and England oppose in the way of 
 a general pacification, by showing that they are 
 only waiting for an opportunity for a rupture, 
 demonstrates the necessity of establishing a just 
 equilibrium between the monarchical and the 
 democratical states. Switzerland, that ancient 
 asylum of liberty, now trampled under foot by 
 an insolent aristocracy, cannot long maintain 
 its present government without depriving France 
 of a part of its resources, and of the support 
 which it would have a right to expect in the event 
 of the contest being renewed. "t Thus the French 
 nation, having thrown down the gauntlet to all 
 Europe, felt, in the extremities to which they had 
 already proceeded, a motive for still farther ag- 
 gressions and more insatiable conquests ; obey- 
 ing thus the moral law of nature, which, in na- 
 tions as well as individuals, renders the career 
 of guilt the certain instrument of its own punish- 
 ment, by the subsequent and intolerant excesses 
 into which it precipitates its votaries. 
 
 Holland was the first victim of the Republican 
 ambition. Not content with having 
 revolutionized that ancient common- Hol^nd"^""^ 
 wealth, expelled the Stadtholder, and 
 compelled its rulers to enter into a costly and 
 ruinous war to support the interests of France, 
 in which they had performed their engagements 
 with exemplary fidelity, they resolved to subject 
 its inhabitants to a convulsion of the same kind 
 as that which had been terminated in France by 
 the 18th Fructidor. 
 
 Since their conquest by Pichegru, the Dutch 
 had had ample opportunity to con- jt^ situation 
 trast the ancient and temperate gov- smce the 
 emment of the house of Orange, un- French con- 
 der which they had risen to an unex- 'J"'^^'- 
 ampled height of prosperity and glory, with the 
 Democratic rule which had been substituted in 
 its stead. Their trade was ruined, their navy 
 defeated, their flag swept from the ocean, and 
 their numerous merchant vessels rotting in their 
 harbours. A reaction, in consequence, had be- 
 come very general in favour of the ancient order 
 of things; and so strong and fervent was this 
 feeling, that the National Assembly, which had 
 met on the first triumph of the Republicans, had 
 never ventured to interfere with the separate 
 rights and privileges of the provinces, as settled 
 by prescription and the old Constitution. The 
 French Directory beheld with secret disquietude 
 this leaning to the tmcient order of things, and 
 could not endure that the old patrician families 
 should, by their influence in the provincial 
 
 * Dum., 32, 35. Th., ix., 321, 322. Jom., x., 277. 
 t Jom., X., 285. Th., x., 25. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 533 
 
 diets, temper in any degree the vigour of their 
 central Democratic government. 'I'o arrest this 
 tendency, they recalled their inlnister from the 
 Hague, supplied his place by Delacroix, a man 
 of noted Democratic principles, and gave Joubert 
 the command of the armed force. Their instruc- 
 tions were, to accomplish the overthrow of the 
 ancient federative Constitution, overturn the aris- 
 tocracy, and vest the government in a Directory 
 of Democratic principles entirely devoted to the 
 interests of France.* 
 
 The Dutch assembly was engaged at this junc- 
 ture in the formation of a Constitution, all pre- 
 vious attempts of that description having proved 
 miserable failures. The adherents of the old in- 
 stitutions, who still formed a majority of the in- 
 habitants, and embraced all the wealth and al- 
 most all the respectability of the United Provin- 
 ces, had hitherto contrived to bafiie the designs 
 of the vehement and indefatigable minority, who, 
 as in all similar contests, represented themselves 
 as the only real representatives of the people, and 
 stigmatized their opponents as a mere faction, 
 obstinately opposed to every species of improve- 
 ment. A majority of the assembly had passed 
 some decrees, which the Democratic party stren- 
 uously resisted, and forty-three of its members, 
 all of the most violent character, had protested 
 against their adoption. It was to this minority 
 that the French minister addressed himself to jDro- 
 cure the overthrow of the Constitution.t 
 
 At a public dinner, Delacroix, after a number 
 f, f of popular toasts, exclaimed, with a 
 
 the French glass in his hand, " Is there no Bata- 
 Directory to vian who wiU plunge a poniard into 
 revolutionize the Constitution on the altar of his 
 the state. country V Amid the fumes of wine 
 and the riot of intoxication, the plan for its assas- 
 sination was soon adopted, and its execution Avas 
 fixed for the 22d of January. On that night, the 
 forty-three deputies who had signed the protest 
 assembled at the Hotel of Haarlem, and ordered 
 the arrest of twenty -two of the leading deputies 
 of the Orange party and the six commissioners 
 of foreign relations. At the same time, the bar- 
 riers were closed, the National Guard called 
 forth, and the French troops, headed by Joubert 
 and Daendels, intrusted with the execution of the 
 order. Resistance was fruitless ; before day- 
 break those arrested were all in pris- 
 ^"' ' ■ on ; and the remainder of the assem- 
 bly, early in the morning, met in the hall of their 
 deliberations, where, surrounded by troops, and 
 under the dictation of the bayonet, they passed 
 decrees sanctioning all that had been done in the 
 night, and introducing a new form of government 
 on the model of that already established in France.; 
 
 By this Constitution the privileges of the prov- 
 inces were entirely abolished; the ancient federal 
 union superseded by a republic, one and indivisi- 
 ble; the provincial authorities changed into func- 
 tionaries emanating from the central govern- 
 ment ; a Council of Ancients and a Chamber of 
 Deputies established, in imitation of those at 
 Paris : and the executive authority confided to a 
 Directory of five members, all completely in the 
 interest of France. The sitting was terminated 
 by an oath of hatred to the stadtholder, the fed- 
 eral system, and the aristocracy: and ten depu- 
 ties, who refused to take it, were deprived of their 
 seats on the spot. So completely was the whole 
 done under the terror of the a'rmv, that some 
 
 * Th.. X., 26, 27. Jom., x., 281. Ann. Re?., 1798, 49, 
 
 50, 78, 80. t Th., X., 26. .loin., x., 128. 
 
 1 Th., X., 27. Jora., x., 281, 282. Ann. Reg., 1798, 80. 
 
 months afterward, when the means of intimida- 
 tion were removed, a number of deputies who had 
 joined in these acts of usurpation gave in their 
 resignation, and protested against the part they 
 had been compelled to take m the transaction.* 
 
 The inhabitants of Holland soon discovered 
 that, in the pursuit of Democratic rj, ^nnical 
 power, they had lost all their ancient acts of^tlTe 
 liberties. The first step of the new new Direc- 
 Directory was to issue a proclamation, '""Y- 
 strictly forbidding, under severe penalties, all pe- 
 titions from corporate bodies or assemblages of 
 men, and declaring that none would be received 
 but from insulated individuals, thereby extin- 
 guishing the national voice in the only quarter 
 where it could make itself heard in a serious 
 manner. All the public functionaries were 
 changed, and their situations filled by persons 
 of the Jacobin party ; numbers banished or pro- 
 scribed; and under the pretext of securing the 
 public tranquillity, domiciliary visits and arrests 
 multiplied in the most arbitrary' manner. The 
 individuals suspected of a leaning to the adverse 
 party were everj'where deprived of their right of 
 voting in the primary assemblies ; and finally, to 
 complete the destruction of all the privileges of 
 the people, the sitting assembly passed a decree, 
 declaring itself the Legislative Body, thereby de- 
 priving the inhabitants of the election of their 
 representatives. This flagrant usurpation ex- 
 cited the most violent discontents in the whole 
 country, and the directors soon became as ob- 
 noxious as they had formerly been agreeable to 
 the populace. Alarmed at this state of matters, 
 and apprehensive lest it should undermine their 
 influence in Holland, the French Directory en- 
 joined General Daendels to take military posses- 
 sion of the government. He accordingly put 
 himself at the head of two companies of grena- 
 diers, and proceeded to the palace of the Direc- 
 tory, where one member was seized, 
 while two resigned, and the other two ^^' ' ' 
 escaped. A provisional government was imme- 
 diately formed, consisting of Daendels and two 
 associates, all entirely in the interest of France, 
 without the slightest regard to the wishes of, or 
 any pretence even of authority from, the people. 
 Thus was military despotism the result of revo- 
 lutionary changes in Holland, as it had been in 
 France, within a few years after they were first 
 commenced amid the general transports of the 
 lower orders.t 
 
 Switzerland was the next object of the ambi- 
 tion of the Directory. The seclu- 
 sion of that beautiful country, its PoJ^'f l f^^^ 
 
 ^ r- ,, 1-... 1 olbwitzerlauQ. 
 
 retirement Irom all political con- 
 tests for above two centuries, the perfect neutral- 
 ity which it had maintained between all the con- 
 tending parties since the commencement of the 
 Revolution, the indifference which it had evinced 
 to the massacre of its citizens on the 10th of Au- 
 gust, could not save it from the devouring ambi- 
 tion of the Parisian enthusiasts. As little, it 
 must be owned with regret, could the wisdom 
 and stability of its institutions, the perfect pro- 
 tection which they afforded to persons and prop- 
 erty, the simple character of its inhabitants, or 
 the admirable prosperity which they had enjoyed 
 for above five centuries under their influence, 
 save a large proportion of them from the perni- 
 cious contagion of French Democracy. The 
 constitutions of the cantons were various. la 
 some, as the Forest Cantons, highly Democrati- 
 
 * Jom., X., 232. Th.,x..27. Ann. Re?., 17 
 t Aim. Reg., 1798, 82, 85. Jom., li., 14, 15. 
 
 8,81. 
 
534 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 cal : in others, as in Berne, essentially aristo- 
 cratic ; but in all, the great objects of govern- 
 3aient, security to persons and property, freedom 
 in life and religion, were attained, and the aspect 
 of the population exhibited a degree of well-being 
 unparalleled in any other part of the world. The 
 traveller was ne\"er weary of admiring, on the 
 sunny margin of the Lake of Zurich, on the vine- 
 clad hills of the Leman Sea, in the smiling fields 
 of Appenzel, in the romantic valleys of Berne, 
 and the lovely recesses of Underwalden — the 
 beautiful cottages, the property of their inhabi- 
 tants, where industry had accumulated its fruits, 
 and art had spread its elegances, and virtue had 
 diffused its contentment; and where, amid the 
 savage magnificence of nature, a nearer ap- 
 proach appeared to have been made to the sim- 
 plicity of the Golden Age than in any other quar- 
 ter of the civilized globe.* 
 
 Of all the European governments, that of 
 Switzerland was the one the weight of which 
 ■was least felt by the people. Economy, justice, 
 and moderation were the bases of its administra- 
 tion, and the federal union by which the different 
 cantons of which it was composed were held to- 
 gether, seemed to have no other object than to 
 secure their common independence. Taxes were 
 almost unknown, property was perfectly secure, 
 and the expenses of government incredibly small. + 
 The military strength of the state consisted in the 
 militia of the different cantons, which, though 
 formidable if united and led by chiefs well skill- 
 ed in the difficult art of mountain warfare, was 
 little qualified to maintain a protracted struggle 
 with the vast forces which the neighbouring pow- 
 ers had now brought into the field. 
 
 The chief defect in the political constitution 
 Inequality of of the Helvetic Confederacy was, 
 political nghts that, with the usual jealousy of the 
 in the different possessors of political power, they 
 cantons. jj^^ refused to admit the conquered 
 
 provinces to a participation of the privileges 
 ■which they themselves enjoyed, and thereby 
 sown the seeds of future dissension and disaffec- 
 tion between the different parts of their dominion. 
 In this way the Pays de Vaud was politically 
 subject to the canton of Berne, the Italian baili- 
 wicks to that of Uri, and some towns of Argovia 
 and Thurgovia to other cantons ; while the 
 peasants of Zurich, in addition to the absence 
 of political privileges, were galled by a monopo- 
 ly in the sale of their produce, which was justly 
 complained of as oppressive. Yet the modera- 
 tion and justice of the government of the senate 
 of Berne was admitted even by its bitterest en- 
 emies ; the economy of their administration had 
 enabled them, with extremely light burdens, not 
 only to meet all the expenses of the state, but ac- 
 cumulate a large treasure for future emergen- 
 cies; and the practical blessings of their rule 
 •were unequivocally demonstrated by the well- 
 being of the peasantr}^ and the density of the 
 population — features rarely fotmd in unison, but 
 •which cannot coexist but under a paternal and 
 beneficent system of administration. j 
 
 The uniform system of the French revolu- 
 _, _ , tionary government, when they wish- 
 resolve'^to'ex- ^^ to make themselves masters of 
 cite one part of any country, was to excite a part of 
 the inbabi- the population, by the prospect of the 
 the'other'"" extension of political power, against 
 the other ; to awaken Democratic 
 ambition by the offer of fraternal support, and 
 
 * Dum., i., 42.'5, 428. t Jom., x., 293, 294, 300. 
 
 t Hard., v., 277. Lac, liv., 104. Jom., x., 295. 
 
 having thus distracted the state by intestine di- 
 visions, they soon found it an easy matter to tri- 
 umph over both. The situation of the Swiss 
 cantons, some of which held conquered provin- 
 ces in subjection, and which varied extremely 
 among each other, in the extent to which the 
 elective franchise was diffused through the peo- 
 ple, offered a favourable prospect of undermining 
 the patriotism of the inhabitants, and accomplish- 
 ing the subjection of the whole by the adoption 
 of this insidious system. The treasure of Berne, 
 of which report had magnified the amount, offer- 
 ed an irresistible bait to the cupidity of the 
 French Directory ; and whatever arguments were 
 adduced in favour of respecting the neutrality of 
 that asylum of freedom, they were always met 
 by the consideration of the immense relief which 
 those accumulated savings of three centuries 
 would afford to the finances of the Republic* 
 
 The first spark of the revolutionar}' flame had 
 been lighted in Switzerland in 1791, when many 
 sincere and enthusiastic men, among whom was 
 Colonel La Harpe, formerly preceptor to the 
 Emperor Alexander, contributed by their pub- 
 lications to the growth of Democratic principles. 
 The patricians of Berne were the especial object 
 of their attacks, and numerous were the efforts 
 made to induce the inhabitants of its territory to 
 shake ofl'the aristocratic yoke. But the success 
 of their endeavours was for many years prevent- 
 ed by the catastrophe of the 10th of August, and 
 the savage ferocity with which the Swiss Guard 
 were treated by the Parisian populace on that 
 occasion, for no other crime than unshaken fidel- 
 ity to their duty and their oaths. Barthelemy 
 was sent to Berne as ambassador of France to 
 counteract this tendency ; and his efforts and ad- 
 dress were not without success in allaying the 
 general exasperation, and reviving those feelings 
 of discontent which, in an especial manner, 
 brooded among the inhabitants of the subject 
 cantons. The government, however, persisted 
 in a cautious system of neutrality ; the wise.st 
 course which they could possibly have adopted, 
 if supported by such a force as to cause it to be 
 respected, but the most unfortunate when accom- 
 panied, as it was, by no military preparations to 
 meet the coming danger.t 
 
 The Swiss Democrats formed a considerable 
 party, formidable chiefly from their influence be- 
 ing concentrated in the great towns, where the 
 powers of thought were more active, and the 
 means of communication greater than in the 
 rural districts. Zurich was the centre of their 
 intrigues, and it was the great object of the Rev- 
 olutionists to counterbalance, by the influence of 
 that city, the authority of Berne, at the head of 
 which was Steiger, the chief magistrate of the 
 confederacy. Ochs, grand tribune of Bale, a 
 turbulent and ambitious demagogue, Pfeffir, son 
 of one of the chief magistrates of Lucerne, and 
 Colonel Weiss at Berne, formed a secret commit- 
 tee, the object of which was by all possible 
 means to bring about the downfall of the exist- 
 ing Constitution and the ascendency of French 
 influence in the whole confederacy. Their uni- 
 ted efforts occasioned an explosion at Geneva in 
 1792, and threatened the liberties of all Switzer- 
 land : but the firmness of the government of 
 Berne averted the danger ; fourteen thousand 
 militia speedily approached the menaced point; 
 and the troops of the convention retired before a 
 nation determined to assert its independence.! 
 
 * Lac , xiv., 1S8. 
 
 ; Hard., v., 282, 290. 
 
 t Hard., v., 277, 285. 
 
n98.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 535 
 
 The subjugation of Switzerland, however, con- 
 Their meas- tinued a favourite object of French 
 nres to bnng ambition ; it had been resolved on by 
 ou a contest the Directory long before the treaty of 
 ^iththe Campo Formio. In July, 1797, their 
 Swiss diet, g^yoy Mengaud was despatched to 
 Berne to insist upon thedismis.salof the English 
 resident Wickham, and, at the same time, to set 
 ©n foot intrigues with the Democratic party 
 similar to those which had proved so successful 
 in effecting the overthrow of the Venitian Repub- 
 lic. By the prudent resolution of the English 
 government, who were desirous not to embroil 
 the Swiss with their formidable neighbours, 
 Wickham was withdrawn. Foiled in this at- 
 tempt to involve the Swiss in a conflict, the Di- 
 rectory next ordered their troops on the frontier to 
 take possession of that part of the territory of Bale 
 "which was subject to the jurisdiction of the can- 
 tons ; but here too they were unsuccessful, for the 
 Swiss government confined themselves to simple 
 negotiations for so glaring a violation of existing 
 treaties. But Napoleon, by his conduct in regard 
 to the Valteline, struck a chord which soon vi- 
 brated with fatal effect throughout Switzerland, 
 and, by rousing the spirit of Democracy, prepared 
 the subjugation ot the country. This country, 
 consisting of five bailiwicks, and containing one 
 hundred and sixty thousand souls, extending 
 from the source of the Adda to its junction with 
 the Lake of Como, had been conquered by the 
 Grisons from the Dukes of Milan ; Francis I. 
 guaranteed to them their enjoyment of it, and 
 they had governed it with justice and moderation, 
 with a council of its own, for three centuries. 
 Napoleon, however, perceived in the situation of 
 this sequestered valley the means of inserting the 
 point of the wedge into the Helvetic Confederacy. 
 Its proximity to the Milanese territory, where 
 the revolutionary spirit was then furiously ra- 
 ging, and the common language which they 
 spoke, rendered it probable that they would rap- 
 idly imbibe the .spirit of revolt against their Ger- 
 man superiors ; and, in order to sound their in- 
 tentions, and foment the desire of independence, 
 he, early in the summer of 1797, sent his aid-de- 
 camp Leclerc to their cottages. The result was, 
 that the inhabitants of the Valteline openly 
 claimed their independence, rose in insurrection, 
 hoisted the tricolour flag, and expelled the Swiss 
 authorities. Napoleon, chosen during the plen- 
 itude of his power at Montebelloas mediator be- 
 tween the contending parties, pro- 
 «ct. lu, i/j/. nounced, on the 10th ot'October, 1797, 
 a decree which, instead of settling the disputed 
 points between them, annexed the whole insur- 
 gent ten-itory to the Cisalpine Republic, thereby 
 bereaving the ancient allies of France, during a 
 time of profound peace, of a territory to them of 
 great value, which they had enjoyed for three 
 hundred years. This decree was professedly 
 based on the principle of still more general appli- 
 cation, " That no one people should be subjected 
 to another people. "*t 
 
 * Nap., iv., 196, 200, 202. Jora., x., 202, 262, 263. Ann. 
 Ke?., 1798. 22. Hard., v., 302, 307. 
 
 t Napoleon at the same time despatched an agent to ne- 
 Jane2l 1797. go'i^te with the Republic of the Valais for a com- 
 munication over the Simplon, through their ter- 
 ritory, with the Cisalpine Republic, The Swiss g-ovem- 
 ment, however, had influence enough, by means of Earthe- 
 lemy, who at that period was a member of the Directory, to 
 obtain a negative on that attempt. The French general, 
 tipon this, hud recourse to the usual engine of revolution ; 
 he stirred up, by his secret emissaries, the lower Valaisans 
 to revolt against the upper Valaisans, by whom they were 
 held in subjection ; and the inhabitants, assured of his sup- 
 
 This iniquitous proceeding, which openly en- 
 couraged every subject district in the p 
 Swiss confederacy to declare its in- fecrwhlch ' 
 dependence, was not lost upon the they produce 
 Valais, the Pays de Vaud, and all the '^ 'he subject 
 other dependancies of that Republic, ''■'^'■'"is. 
 To increase the ferment, a large body of troops, 
 under General Menard, was moved forward to 
 the frontiers of that discontented province, and 
 Napoleon, in his journey from Milan to Rastadt, 
 took care to pass through those districts and stop 
 in those towns where the Democratic spirit was 
 known to be most violent. At Lausanne he was 
 surrounded by the most ardent of the revolu- 
 tionary party, and openly proclaimed as the Re- 
 storer of their independence. A plan of opera- 
 tions was soon concerted with Ochs and La 
 Harpe, the leaders of revolutionary projects in 
 that country. It was agreed that a republic, one 
 and indivisible, should be erected, as that was 
 considered as more favourable to the interests of 
 France than the present federal union ; that the 
 Director}' should commence by taking possession 
 of Bienne, L'Esquil, and Munsterthal, which 
 were dependancies of the bishopric of Bale : that 
 all the Italian bailiwicks should be stimulated to 
 follow the example of the Pays de Vaud in 
 throwing off the yoke of the other cantons : that 
 the French Republic should declare itself the 
 protector of all the districts and individuals who 
 were disposed to shake off the authority of the 
 aristocratic cantons, and that Mengaud should 
 encourage the formation of clubs, inundate the 
 country with revolutionary writings, and prom- 
 ise speedy succours in men and money. At 
 Berne, Napoleon asked a question of sinister im- 
 port as to the amount of its treasure ; and though 
 the senator, to whom it was addressed, prudently 
 reduced its amount to 10,000,000 francs, or about 
 ^£400, 000, this was sufficient to induce that am- 
 bitious man, who was intent on procuring funds 
 for his Eastern expedition, to urge the Directory 
 to prosecute their invasion of Switzerland.* 
 
 The first act of open hostility against the Hel- 
 vetic League was the seizure of the pirgt open acts 
 country of Erguel by five battal- of hostility. 
 ions, drawn from the army of the Dec. 15, 1797. 
 Rhine, on the 15th of December. This event, 
 accompanied as it was by an alarming ferment- 
 ation, and soon an open insurrection in the Pays 
 de Vaud, produced the utmost consternation in 
 Switzerland, and a diet assembled at Arau 
 to deliberate concerning the public exigencies. 
 This act of hostility was followed, two days af- 
 ter, by an intimation from Mengaud, the French 
 envoy, "that the members of the govern- 
 ments of Berne and Fribourg should an- ^°' ' 
 swer personally for the safety of the persons and 
 property of such of the inhabitants of the Pays 
 de Vaud as might address themselves to the 
 French Republic to obtain the restitution of their 
 rights." As the senate of Berne seemed resolv- 
 ed to defend their country, Mengaud, early in 
 January, summoned them instantly to declare 
 their intentions. At the same time, General Me- 
 nard crossed Savoy with ten thousand men from 
 the army of Italy, and established his 
 headquarters at Ferney, near Gene- '*°- > ' 
 va ; while Monnier, who commanded the troops 
 in the Cisalpine Republic, advanced to the fron- 
 
 port, and encouraged by the successful result of the revolt 
 of the Valteline, declared their independence.* 
 
 * Jom., X., 292, 298. Lac, xiv., 195. De Stael, ii., 209. 
 Ann. Reg.. 1798, 24, 25. 
 
 Corresp. Coaf., June 21, 1797, and July 13, 1797. Hard., v., 295,298 
 
536 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 tiers of the Italian bailiwicks, to support the ex- 
 pected insurrection in the southern side of the 
 Alps. These threatening measures brought mat- 
 ters to a crisis in the Pays de Vaud ; the stand- 
 ard of insurrection was openly hoisted, trees of 
 liberty planted, the Swiss authorities expelled, 
 and the Lcman Republic solemnly recognised by 
 the French Directory.* 
 
 These iniquitous measures against the Swiss 
 ^, . . ,, confederacy were all adopted by the 
 done under government, with the concurrence and 
 the direc- by the advicc of Napoleon. He was 
 tion of Na- the great centre of correspondence with 
 poleon. jj-^g nialecontents of Helvetia ; and by 
 his council, assistance, and directions, kept alive 
 that spirit of disaffection which ultimately proved 
 fatal to the independence of the confederacy. In 
 concert, at Paris, with La Harpe, Ochs, and the 
 other leaders of the insurrection, he prepared a 
 general plan of a revolt against the Swiss gov- 
 ernment. So little did the Directory deem it ne- 
 cessary to conceal either their ovm or his share 
 in these intrigues, that they openly avowed it; 
 and in a journal published under their immedi- 
 ate superintendence, it was publicly declared 
 that, with the assistance of Napoleon, they were 
 engaged in a general plan for the remodelling 
 the Helvetic Constitution ; and that they took 
 imder their especial protection the patriots of the 
 Pays de Vaud, and all who were engaged in the 
 great struggle for equality of privileges and 
 French fraternization throughout the whole con- 
 federacy.t; 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1798,22,23. Jom., x., 302. Lac, xiv., 195. 
 
 t Hard., v., 310, 311. 
 
 X In the Ami des Lois, a journal entirely under the direc- 
 tion of Barras, there appeared at this period the following 
 article : " Several French travellers have been sent, within 
 these few days, to Switzerland, with instructions to obser^Je 
 the singular variety in the Helvetic governments, their di- 
 vision into thirteen republics, and their distribution into 
 sovereign and subject states. The same travellers are di- 
 rected to consider the inconveniences hkely to arise from the 
 accumulation, so near the French frontiers, of the leaders of 
 so many parties who have been vanquished in the different 
 crises of the Revolution. They are authorized to declare 
 that France is particularly the ally of all the conquered or 
 subject people, and of all who are in a state of opposition to 
 their governments, all of which are notoriously sold to Eng- 
 land. They are directed, in an especial manner, to observe 
 the situation of Geneva, which is eminently Republican, and 
 friendly to France. M. Talleyrand is much occupied with 
 the political state of Switzerland ; he has frequent confer- 
 ences with General Bonaparte, Colonel La Harpe, and the 
 Grand Tribune Ochs. The latter distinguished character, 
 ■who is received at all the public /e^es on the same terms as 
 the foreign ambassadors, is occupied, under the auspices of 
 the Directory, and in concert with the persons whom they 
 have appointed to share their labours, with a general re- 
 modelling of the ancient Helvetic Constitution. In a word, 
 a revolutionary explosion is hourly expected on the two ex- 
 tremities of Switzerland, in the Grisons and the Pays de 
 Vaud." — Ami des Lois, Dec. 11, 1797. 
 
 The direction which Napoleon took of these intrigues is 
 .p. ,„ abundantly proved by his Confidential Correspond- 
 ence. On December 12, 1797, Ochs addressed the 
 following note to that general : " The material points to 
 consider are, whether we are to continue the federal union 
 ■which is so agreeable to Austria, or estalilish unity, the 
 only means of rendering Switzerland the permanent ally of 
 Fiance. I perceive, with the highest satisfaction, that you 
 agree with the Swiss patriots on this point. But the result 
 of our conferences and correspondence is, that it is indis- 
 pensable that we should have a convention, supported by a 
 French corps d'armie, in the immediate neighbourhood. 
 May I therefore be permitted to insinuate to my friends, in 
 guarded phrases, that they will be supported? May I as- 
 sure the patriots of Zurich that the amnesty demanded will 
 be extended to the inhabitants of Kaiffa ; that France will 
 make good its incontestable rights to the Val Moutier, the 
 Val d'Erguel, and the town of Bienne ; that she will guar- 
 antee the liberties of the Pays de Vand, and that the Italian 
 bailiwicks may present petitions, and fraternize with the 
 Cisalpine Republic 1 Bile revolutionized might propose to 
 
 These violent steps, which threatened the 
 
 whole confederacy with dissolu- Consternation 
 
 tion, excited the deepest alarm in inconsequence 
 the Swiss Diet, assembled at Arau. excited in 
 This was increased by a note ad- They ma'kf ' 
 dressed by Mengaud, which de- some conces- 
 clared that, if the Austrians enter- sions. 
 ed the Grisons, the French w^ould immediately 
 occupy the canton of Berne. The most violent 
 debates, meantime, took place in the senate of 
 
 the Italian bailiwicks, the Pays de Vaud, and the other sub- 
 ject states, to send deputies to a national convention ; if mat- 
 ters were only brought that length, there can be no doubt 
 that the remainder of Switzerland would come into their 
 measures. But it is indispensable that the agents of France 
 should publish revolutionary writings, and declare every- 
 where that you take under your especial protection all who 
 labour for the regeneration of their country. This declara- 
 tion, however, may be made either publicly or confidential- 
 ly ; I shall be happy to prepare a sketch of such a confiden- 
 tial letter, if you prefer that method.'" 
 
 It would appear that Napoleon had not at once replied to 
 this letter ; for, six days afterward, Ochs again . 
 wrote to him : " I wrote to you on the 12th, and '^ 
 
 begged to know to which of the alternatives proposed in my 
 letter the patriots are to look. Meanwhile, they are pre- 
 paring, but I am much afraid they will do more harm than 
 good ; they will probably effect a half revolution only, which, 
 will be speedily overturned, and leave matters worse than 
 before."t On the 2d of December, Eacher, the rev- ^ j, 
 olutionary agent for the Grisons, wrote to Napoleon : 
 " The explosion which we have so long expected has at 
 length taken place ; the chiefs and members of the Grey 
 league have been deposed, and placed in confinement at 
 Coire ; the general assembly of the people has been convo- 
 ked. Their first act has been to send a deputation to ex- 
 press to you, citizen general, the profound sense which the 
 Congress entertain of your powerful mediation, and to give 
 you all the information which you can desire."! On the 
 21st December, Ochs wrote to Napoleon : " My let- „, . _ 
 ters have at length informed me that the French 
 troops are in possession of the bishopric of Bflle. I am 
 transported with joy on the occasion ; the last hour of the 
 aristocracy appears to have struck. Listen to what one of 
 your agents writes to me : ' Have only a little patience, 
 and full justice will be done ; war will be waged with the 
 oligarchy and the aristocracy ; government established in its 
 primitive simplicity, universal equality will prevail, and 
 then France will indeed live on terms of amity -with its 
 Swiss neighbours.' "^ On the 17th of Febru- ,, . _ . ,.„„ 
 ary, 1798, the revolutionary deputies of the '^'n ^ '"., i ,ss. 
 Pays de Vaud presented the following address to Napoleon : 
 " The deputies of the Pays de Vaud, whom the generous 
 protection of the Directory has so powerfully aided, desire to 
 lay their homage at your feet. They owe it the more, be- 
 cause it was your passage through their country which elec- 
 trified the inhabitants, and was the precursor of the thun- 
 derbolt which has overwhelmed the oligarchy. The Helve- 
 tians swore, when they beheld the Liberator of Italy, to re- 
 cover their rights. ''II Brune also corresponded with Napo- 
 leon throughout the whole campaign in Switzerland. In 
 
 one of his letters, on the 17th of March, 1798, he ,,., ., , 
 
 11 T V . 1- J T. 1 J . J7th March, 
 
 says, " 1 have studied your political conduct 
 
 throughout your Italian campaign ; I follow your labours to 
 the best of my ability ; according to your advice, I spare no 
 methods of conciliation ; but, at the same time, am fully pre- 
 pared to act with force, and the genius of liberty has sec- 
 onded my enterprises. I am, like you, surrounded by ras- 
 cals ; I am constantly paring their nails, and locking the 
 public treasures from them."ir Lastly, Napoleon no sooner 
 heard of the invasion of the Pays de Vaud, than he wrote to 
 the directors of the Cisalpine Republic in these terms: 
 " The Pays de Vaud and the different cantons . 
 
 of Switzerland are animated with the same 
 spirit of liberty ; we know that the Italian bailiwicks share 
 in the same disposition ; hut we deem it indispensable that 
 at this moment they should declare their sentiments, and 
 manifest a desire to be united to the Cisalpine Republic. 
 We desire, in consequence, that you will avail yourselves 
 of all the means in your power to spread in your neighbour- 
 hood the spirit of liberty ; circulate liberal writings ; and 
 excite a movement which may accelerate the general revolu- 
 tion of Switzerland. We fiave given orders to General 
 Monnier to approach the frontiers of the Italian bailiwicks 
 with his troops, to support any movements of the insurgents ; 
 he has received orders to concert measures with you for the 
 attainment of an object equally important to both repub- 
 lics."— See Hard., v., 330. 
 
 * Cnrr. Conf.. iv., 470, 472. t Ibid., iv., 474, 475. } Ihi'l.. iv., 46.1. 
 § Ibid., iv., 476, 477. U Ibid., iv., 508. IT Ibid., iv., 533. 
 
1798.1 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 53T 
 
 that canton, as to the course which should be 
 adopted. Ill order to appease the public discon- 
 tents, they passed a decree by which the princi- 
 pal towns and districts in the canton were em- 
 powered to elect fifty deputies to sit in the Legis- 
 „ ,.„„ lature. This example was immedi- 
 Jan. 20, i-9a. ^^^j^ loHowed by the cantons of Zu- 
 rich, Fribourg, Lucerne, Soleure, and SchaftTiau- 
 sen. But this measure met with the usual fate 
 of all concessions yielded, under the influence 
 of fear, to revolutionary ambition ; it displayed 
 weakness without evincing firmness, and en- 
 couraged audacity without awakening grati- 
 tude.* 
 
 Convinced at length, by the eloquence of Stei- 
 Hostilities S^^> ^^^"^^ resistance was the only course 
 commence which remained, the senate of Berne 
 in the Pays ordered the militia, twenty thousand 
 de Vaud. strong, to be called out, and sent Colo- 
 nel Weiss, with a small force, to take possession 
 of Lausanne. But this officer had not troops 
 sufficient to accomplish the object; the insur- 
 gents instantly invited General Menard to enter 
 the territory of the confederacy, and the French 
 battalions quickly poured down from the Jura. 
 , „. Upon his approach, the revolution broke 
 out at Lausanne, the Swiss were driven 
 out, and Menard, advancing, summoned Weiss 
 instantly and entirely to evacuate the Pays de 
 Vaud. Two soldiers of the escort of the flag 
 of truce were killed ; and although the senate 
 of Berne ofiered to deliver up the men who had 
 committed this aggression, Menard obstinate- 
 ly insisted upon construing it into a decla- 
 ration of wai, and established his headquarters 
 at Lausanne. Meanwhile Ochs and Mengaud, 
 the leaders of the Democratic party, succeeded 
 in revolutionizing all the north of Switzerland, 
 as far as the foot of the mountains ; the territo- 
 ries of Zurich, Bale, and Argovie quickly hoist- 
 ed the tricolour flag, and convulsions took place 
 in the Lower Valais, Fribourg, Soleure, and St. 
 Gall.t To such a height of audacity did the in- 
 surgents arrive, that they hoisted that emblem of 
 revolution at Aran, without the Diet being able 
 to overawe them by their presence, or prevent 
 them by their authority. 
 
 Driven to desperation by these insurrections, 
 Resolute '•^^ senate of Berne tardily, but reso- 
 conduct of lutely, resolved upon resistance. They 
 the senate intimated to the French government 
 of Berae. [j^g concessions made to the popular 
 party; but the Directory declared that nothing 
 would be deemed satisfactory unless the whole 
 ancient Constitution was overturned, and a pro- 
 visional government of five revolutionists estab- 
 lished in its stead. The senate, finding their 
 ruin resolved on, issued a proclamation, calling 
 on the shepherds of the Alps to defend their 
 country ; Steiger repaired in person to the army, 
 to put himself under the orders of Erlach, and 
 the most energetic measures to repel the danger 
 were adopted.: A minority, unworthy of the 
 name of Swiss, abdicated, and agreed to all the 
 propositions of the French general ; not intimi- 
 dated by the terror of the Republican arms, but 
 deluded by the contagion of its principles. 
 
 Desirous still, if possible, to avoid proceeding 
 to extremities, the .senate addressed a note to the 
 Directory, in which they complained of the ir- 
 ruption of their troops into the Pays de Vaud, 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 17U8, 26. Jom., x., 304, 308. Th., x., 46. 
 t Jom., X., 305, 306. Lac, xiv., 200. Th., x., 47, 49 
 Ann. Re?.. 1798, 26. 
 
 J Jom., x.,.30S. Lac, xiv., 201. Hard., v., 318, 319. 
 
 Vol. L— Y y y 
 
 and offered to disband their militia if the inva- 
 ders were withdrawn. Tliis drew forth from the 
 enemy a full statement of their designs. No 
 longer pretending to confine themselves to the 
 support of the districts in a state of revolution, 
 or the securing for them the privileges of citi- 
 zens, they insisted on overturning the whole 
 Constitution of the country, forming twenty-two 
 cantons instead of thirteen, and creating a Re- 
 public one and indivisible, with a Directory 
 formed in all respects on the model of that of 
 France;* at the same time, Mengaud published 
 at Aran a declaration, that " all Swiss who 
 should refuse to obey the commands or follow 
 the standards of the senate of Berne, would be 
 taken under the immediate protection of the 
 French Republic." 
 
 Meanwhile the Oberland en masse flew to 
 arms; the shepherds descended from Heroic con- 
 their glaciers ; every valley sent forth duct of the 
 its little horde of men, and the accu- mountaiu- 
 mulated streams, uniting like the tor- '''^''^• 
 rents of the Alps, formed a body of nearly twen- 
 ty thousand combatants on the frontiers of Berne. 
 The small cantons followed the glorious exam- 
 ple ; Uri, Underwalden, Schwytz, and Soleure, 
 sent forth their contingents with alacrity; the in- 
 most recesses of the Alps teemed Avitli warlike 
 activity, and the peasants joyfully set out from, 
 their cottages, not doubting that the triumphs of 
 Moral, Laupen, and Granson were about to be 
 renewed in the holy war of independence. The 
 women fanned the generous flame : they not only 
 encouraged their husbands and brothers to swell 
 the bands of their countrymen, but themselves, 
 in many instances, joined the ranks, resolved to 
 share in the perils and glories of the strife. Al- 
 most everywhere the inhabitants of the mount- 
 ains remained faithful to their country; the citi- 
 zens of towns and of the plains alone were de- 
 luded by the fanaticism of revolution. t 
 
 General D'Erlach, who commanded the Swiss 
 troops, had divided his army into Commence- 
 three divisions, consisting of about mentofhos- 
 seven thousand men each. The first, tihties. 
 under General Andermatt, occupied the space 
 between Fribourg and the Lake of Moral ; the 
 second, under Graffenried, was encamped be- 
 tween the town of Buren and the bridge over the 
 river Thiels ; the third, under Colonel Watte- 
 ville,was in communication with the preceding,, 
 and covered Soleure. Had the Swiss army in- 
 stantly attacked, they might po.ssibly have over- 
 whelmed the two divisions of the French troops, 
 which were so far separated as to be incapable 
 of supporting each otlier; the multitude of wa- 
 verers in Switzerland would probably have been 
 decided by such an event to join the armies of 
 their country, and thus the confederacy might; 
 have been enabled to maintain its ground till 
 the distant armies of Austria advanced to its re- 
 lief. But, from a dread of precipitating hostili- 
 ties while yet accommodation was practicable, 
 this opportunity, notwithstanding the most ur- 
 gent representations of Steiger, was allowed to 
 escape, and General Brune, who at this time re- 
 placed Menard in the command, instantly con- 
 centrated his forces, and sent forward an envoy 
 to Berne to propose terms of accommodation. 
 By this artifice he both induced the enemy to 
 relax their efforts, and gained time to complete 
 his own preparations. The senate, meanwhile,. 
 
 * Jom., X., 310. Hard., V , 343. 
 
 t De Stael, ii., 72. Lac, xiv., 202, 203. Jom., x., 310v 
 Ann. Reg., 1798, 28. Hard., v., 321, 322. 
 
538 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 fluctuated between the enthusiasm of the peas- 
 antry to resist the enemy, and their apprelien- 
 fiions of engaging in such a contest. At length 
 Brune, having completed his preparations, de- 
 clared that nothing would satisly the Directory 
 but the immediate disbanding of the whole ar- 
 my ; upon which the senate at length authorized 
 D'Erlach to commence hostilities, and notice 
 was sent to the French commander that the ar- 
 mistice would not be renewed. *t 
 
 Brune, however, resolved to anticipate the 
 enemy. For this purpose the troops were moved, 
 ^ before daybreali on the '2d of March, to- 
 
 MarchS. .^^^j-jg Soleure and Fribourg, where they 
 had many partisans among the Revolutionary 
 classes. A battalion of Swiss, after a heroic re- 
 sistance, was cut to pieces at the advanced posts ; 
 but the towns were far from imitating this gallant 
 Surrender of example. Soleure surrendered at the 
 Soleure and first summons, and Fribourg, after a 
 Fnbourg. show of resistance, did the same. 
 These great successes, gained evidently by con- 
 cert with the party who distracted Switzerland, 
 not only gave the invaders a secure bridge over 
 the Aar, but, by uncovering the right of the Swiss 
 army, compelled the retreat of the whole. This 
 retrograde movement, immediately following 
 these treacherous surrenders, produced the most 
 fatal eflect: the peasants conceived they were 
 betrayed; some disbanded and retired, boiling 
 with rage, to their mountains; others mutinied, 
 and murdered their officers; nothing but the 
 efibrts of Steiger and D'Erlach brought any part 
 of the troops back to their colours, and then it 
 "was discovered that half their number had dis- 
 appeared during the confusion ,t 
 
 While the Swiss troops at this critical moment 
 were undergoing this ruinous dimi- 
 "before Berae': ^ution, the French were vigorously 
 following up their successes. Be- 
 fore daybreak on the 5th, a general attack was 
 commenced on the Swiss position. General 
 Pigeon, with fifteen thousand men, passed the 
 Sarine, and, by a sudden assault, made himself 
 master of the post of Neueneck, on the left of the 
 army; but the Swiss, though only eight thousand 
 strong, under Graflienried, having returned to the 
 charge, after a desperate conflict drove his vet- 
 eran bands back, with the loss of eighteen pieces 
 ef cannon and two thousand men, and, amid 
 loud shouts, regained the position they had occu- 
 pied in the morning. But while fortune thus 
 smiled on the arms of freedom on the left, a fatal 
 disaster occurred on the right. After the fall of 
 Soleure, the division of Schawenburg moved for- 
 ward on the road to Berne, and, after an obstinate 
 struggle, dislodged the Swiss advanced guard of 
 four thousand men placed in the village of 
 Frauenbrunne. After this success he pushed 
 on till his advance was arrested by the corps 
 commanded by D'Erlach in person, seven thou- 
 
 * Jom., X., 212, 315. Ann. Reg., 1798, 23, 28. Hard., v., 
 359, 375. 
 
 t The ultimatum of the French general was in these 
 t^rms ; " The government of Berne is to recall the troops 
 which it has sent into the other cantons, and disband its 
 mditia. There shall forthwith be established a provisional 
 government, differing in form and composition from the one 
 which exists ; within a month after the establishment of 
 that provisional government, the primary assemblies shall be 
 convoked ; the principle of political liberty and equality of 
 rights assumed as the base of the new Constitution, and de- 
 clared the fundamental law of the confederacy ; all persons 
 detained for political offences shall be set at liberty. The 
 senate of Berne shall instantly resign its authority into the 
 hands of the provisional government." — Hard., v., 375, 376. 
 
 i Jom., X., 317, 318. Lac, xiv., 203, 204. Ann. Reg., 
 1798, 29. 
 
 sand strong, posted, with his right resting on a 
 ridge of rocks, and his lelt on marshes and woods. 
 But the strength of this position, where Ibrmerly 
 the Swiss had triumphed over the Sire of Coucy, 
 proved inadequate to arrest the immense force 
 which now assailed it. The great superiority 
 of the French, who had no less than sixteen 
 thousand veteran troops in the field, enabled 
 them to scale the rocks and turn his right, while 
 dense battalions, supported by a numerous ar- 
 tillery, pressed upon the centre and left. After a 
 brave resistance, the Swiss were forced to re- 
 treat; in the course of it, they made a heroic 
 stand at Granholz. The extraordinary nature 
 of the war here appeared in the strongest colours. 
 The Swiss peasants, though defeated, faced about 
 with the utmost resolution; old men, women, 
 children, joined their ranks; the place of the 
 dead and the vvounded was instantly supplied by 
 crowds of every age and sex, who rushed for- 
 ward, with inextinguishable devotion, to the 
 scene of danger. At length the numbers and 
 discipline of the French prevailed over the un- 
 daunted resolution of their opponents; the mot- 
 ley crowd was borne backward at the point of 
 the bayonet to the heights in front of Berne. Here 
 D'Erlach renewed the combat for the fifth time 
 that day, and for a while arrested their progi'ess ; 
 but the cannon and cavalry having thrown his 
 undisciplined troops into confusion, they were 
 driven into the town, and the cannon of the ram- 
 parts alone prevented the victors from following 
 in their steps. The city capitulated the same 
 night, and the troops dispersed in every direc- 
 tion. *t 
 
 Deplorable excesses followed the dissolution, 
 of the Swiss army. The brave Dreadful excess- 
 D'Erlach was massacred by the es of the Swiss 
 deluded soldiers at Munzingen, as =»fter defeat, 
 he was endeavouring to reach the small cantons. 
 Steiger, after undergoing incredible hardships, 
 escaped by the mountains of Oberland into 
 Bavaria. Numbers of the bravest officers fell 
 victims to the fury of the troops ; and the Demo- 
 cratic party, by spreading the belief that they had 
 been betrayed by their leaders, occasioned the 
 destruction of the few men who could have sus- 
 tained the sinking fortunes of their country .{ 
 
 The French, immediately after their entrance 
 into Berne, made themselves masters capture of 
 of its treasures, the chief incentive to Berne, its 
 the war. Its exact amount was never treasures, 
 ascertained, but the most moderate ^'^'^ arsenal, 
 estimate made it reach to 20,000,000 francs, 
 or £800,000 sterling. The arsenal, containing 
 300 pieces of cannon and 40,000 muskets, the 
 stores, the archives, all became the prey of the 
 victors. The tree of liberty was planted, the 
 
 * Jom., X., 319, 322. Ann. Reg., 1798, 30, 31. Lac., 
 xiv., 205, 208. Th., x., 50. 
 
 t During all these negotiations and combats with the Re- 
 public of Berne, Brune corresponded confidentially with, and 
 took directions from. Napoleon. On the 8th of February he 
 wrote from Lausanne to him : " Berne has made some 
 tlourishes before my arrival, but since that period it has 
 been chiefly occupied with remodelling its Constitution, an- 
 ticipating thus the stroke which the Directory hud prepared 
 for It. To-morrow I shall advance to Morat, and from 
 thence make you acquainted, my general, with our military 
 and political situation." Three days afterward he again 
 wrote ; " The letter of Citizen Mengaud, affived to the coffee- 
 houses of Berne, has awakened the oligarchs ; their bat- 
 talions are on foot ; nothing less than the 12,000 men which 
 you have demanded from the army of the Rhine or this ex- 
 pedition can ensure its success. The presence of an armed 
 force is indispensable."— Corres;;. Conf. de Nap., iv., 511, 
 512, and Hard., v., 355, 356. 
 
 t Jom., X., 322. Lac, xiv., 208. Hard., v., 391. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 539 
 
 Democratic Constitution promulgated, and a Di- 
 rectory appointed. Several .senators jjut them- 
 selves to death at bcliolding the destruction of 
 their country ; many died ol' grief at the sight. ♦t 
 
 The fall of Berne was soon followed by an 
 „ explosion of the revolutionary vol- 
 
 contributions cano over great part oi bwUzerland. 
 levied by the The people of Zurich and Lucerne 
 Erencii every- j-Qse in open insurrection, dispos- 
 •where. scssed the authorities, and hoisted 
 
 the tricolour flag ; the Lower Valaisans revolted 
 against the Upper, and by the aid of the French, 
 made themselves masters of the castellated cliffs 
 of Sion. All the level parts of Switzerland al- 
 most joined the innovating party. They were 
 not long in tasting the bitter fruits of such con- 
 duct. Enormous contributions, pillage of every 
 sort, attended the steps of the French armies ; 
 even the altar of Notre Dame des Hermites, the 
 object of peculiar veneration, was despoiled ; the 
 generals received prodigious gifts out of the 
 plunder ;{ the troops were clothed at the expense 
 of their Democratic allies ; and the scourge of 
 commissaries, as in Belgium and Italy, follow- 
 ing in the rear of the armies, exhibited, by the 
 severity and enormity of their exactions, a pain- 
 ful contrast to the lenity and indulgence of their 
 former government.§ The Swiss revolutionists 
 were horror-struck at these exactions ; and all per- 
 sons of respectable character, who had been mis- 
 led by the lumes of Democracy, saw that the in- 
 dependence of Switzerland was destroyed, threw 
 up their employments in the service of the inva- 
 ders,', and lamented in silence the despotic yoke 
 they had brought on their country.TT 
 
 A new Constitution was speedily framed for 
 April 12. '•'^^ confederacy, formed on the basis 
 
 K«wConstitu- of that established in France in 1795, 
 -Aou of Switz- and proclaimed at Arau on the I2th of 
 erland. April. The barriers of nature, the 
 
 divisions formed by mountains, lakes, and tor- 
 rents ; the varieties of character, occupation, lan- 
 guage, and descent, were disregarded, and the 
 
 * Jem., X., 322, 323. Lac, liv., 209. Th., x., 51. Hard., 
 v., 409. 
 
 t Brune announced the capture of Berne to Napoleon in 
 these terms : " From the moment that I found myself in a 
 situation to act, I assembled all my strength to strike like 
 lightning ; for Switzerland is a vast barrack, and I had 
 everything to fear from a war of posts : I avoided it by ne- 
 gotiations, which I knew were not sincere on the part of the 
 Bernese, and since that I have followed the plan which I 
 traced out to you. I think always that I am still under your 
 command." — Corresp. Con/., iv., 531. 
 
 t That of General Brune amounted to 800,000 francs, or 
 .£26,000 sterling.— Lacretellb, xiv., 210. 
 
 <) The French imposed a tax of 15,000,000 francs, or 
 £600,000, on their Democratic " aliies" in Berne, Fribourg, 
 Soleure, Lucerne, and Zurich ; a sum far greater than ever 
 iiad been raised before in those simple countries in ten years. 
 This was independent of 19,000,000 francs, or £760,000, al- 
 ready paid by these cantons in bills of exchange and cash, 
 and of 5,000,000 francs, or £200,000 worth of articles taken 
 from the arsenals. Such were the first fruits of Republican 
 fraternization. 
 
 II Jom., X., 323, 330, 348, 349. Lac, xiv., 210, 211. Th., 
 X., 53. 
 
 IT The total plunder exacted from the canton of Berne 
 alone by the French, in 1798, amounted to the enormous 
 sura of 42,280,000 francs, or above £1,700,000. The partic- 
 ulars were as follows ; 
 
 Francs. 
 
 Treasure 7,000,000 
 
 Ingots 3,700,000 
 
 Contributions 4,000,000 
 
 Sale of titles 2,000,000 
 
 Wheat seized 17,140,000 
 
 "Wine ) ,440,000 
 
 Artillery and stores in arsenal 7,000,000 
 
 Total 42,280,000 francs, 
 
 <» £1,710,000. 
 
 Republic, one and indivisible, proclaimed. Five 
 directors, entirely in the interest of France, were 
 appointed, with the absolute disposal of the exec- 
 utive and military power of the state ; and by a 
 law, worthy of I'iberius, whoever spoke even in 
 a disrespectful manner of the new authorities, 
 was to be punished with death.* Geneva, at the 
 same time, I'ell a prey to the ambition of the all- 
 engrossing Rejiublic. This celebrated city had 
 long been an object of their desire ; and the di- 
 visions by which it now was distracted afforded 
 a favourable opportunity for accomplishing the 
 object. The Democratic party loudly demanded 
 a union with that power, and a commi.ssion was 
 appointed by the senate to report on the subject. 
 Their report, however, was unfavourable ; upon 
 which General Gerard, who commanded a small 
 corps in the neighbourhood, took possession of 
 the town ; and the senate, with the bayonet at 
 their throats, formally agreed to a union with 
 the conquering Republic. t 
 
 But while the rich and populous part of Switz- 
 erland was thus falling a prey to Generous 
 
 the revolutionary fervour of the efforts of the 
 times, a more generous spirit ani- mountaineers, 
 mated the shepherds of the small cantons. The 
 people of Schwytz, Uri, Underwalden, Glarus, 
 Sargans, Turgovie, and St. Gall, rejected the 
 new Constitution. The inhabitants of these ro- 
 mantic and sequestered regions, communicating 
 little with the rest of the world, ardently attached 
 to their liberties, proud of their heroic struggles 
 in defence of ancient freedom, and inheriting all 
 the dauntless intrepidity of their forefathers, were 
 not to be seduced by the glittering but deceitful 
 offers which had deluded their richer and more 
 civilized brethren. They clearly perceived that, 
 when once they were merged in the Helvetic 
 Union, their influence would be destroyed by the 
 multitude who would share their privileges ; that 
 they would soon fall under the dominion of the 
 cities, with whose wealth and ambition they 
 were wholly disqualified to contend; and that, 
 in the wreck of all their ancient institutions, the 
 independence of their country could not long be 
 maintained. They saw that the insidious prom- 
 ises of the French envoys had terminated only 
 in ruinous exactions and tyrannical rule, and 
 that irreligion, sacrilege, and infidelity univer- 
 sally marked the invaders' steps. Every day 
 they had proofs of the repentance, when too late, 
 of the cantons who had invited the enemy into 
 their bosom ; and multitudes, escaping from the 
 theatre of French exactions, fled into their se- 
 cluded valleys, stimulating their inhabitants to 
 resistance by the recital of their oppressions, 
 and offering to aid them by their arms. Anima- 
 ted by these feelings, the small cantons unani- 
 mously rejected the new Constitution. " We 
 have lived," said they, " for several centuries, 
 under a republic based on liberty and equality ; 
 possessing no other goods in the world but our 
 religion and our independence, no other riches 
 but our herds, our first duty is to defend them."t 
 The clergy in these valleys had unbounded in- 
 fluence over their flocks. They were Arguments by 
 justly horror-struck at the total irre- which they 
 ligion which was manifested by the were roused 
 French armies in every part of the ^y ''"^ clergy, 
 world, and the acrimonious war which they, in 
 an especial manner, waged against the Catholic 
 faith. The priests traversed the ranks, with the 
 crucifix in their hands, to exhort the peasants to 
 
 * Lac, XIV., 213. Jom., x. 330. t Jom., x., 331. 
 
 t Jom., X., 326, 348, 349. Lac, xiv., 216, 217. 
 
540 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 die as martyrs if they could not preserve the in- 
 dependence and religion of their countr\'. " It 
 is for you," they exclaimed, " to be faithful to 
 the cause of God ; you have received from Him 
 gifts a thousand times more precious than gold 
 or riches — the freedom and faith of )'our ances- 
 tors. A peril far more terrible than heresy now 
 assails you ; impiety itself is at your gates ; the 
 enemy marches covered with the spoils of your 
 churches ; you will no longer be the sons of 
 William Tell if you abandon the faith of your 
 fathers ; you are now called on not only to com- 
 bat as heroes, but to die as martyrs." The wom- 
 en showed the same ardour as at Berne; num- 
 bers joined the ranks with their husbands, others 
 carried provisions and ammunition for the com- 
 batants; all were engaged in the holy cause. 
 The tricolour flag became the object of the same 
 hatred as the Austrian standard five centuries 
 before; the tree of liberty recalled the pole of 
 Gesler ; all the recollections of William Tell 
 mingled with the newborn enthusiasm of the 
 moment. " We do not fear," said the shepherds 
 of Uri, " the armies of France ; we are four 
 hundred, and if that is not sufficient, four hun- 
 dred more in our valley are ready to march to 
 The defence of their country."* Animated by 
 such feelings, the peasants confidently hoped for 
 victory ; the spots on which the triumphs of 
 Naefels, Laupen, and Morgarten were to be re- 
 newed, were already pointed out with exulting 
 anticipations of success ; and the shepherds of a 
 few cantons, who could not bring ten thousand 
 men into the field, fearlessly entered the lists with 
 a power beneath which the Austrian monarchy 
 had sunk to the ground. 
 Aloys Reding was the soul of the confedera- 
 •^y- Descended from the ancient 
 Aloys Kedmg. founders of Helvetic independence, 
 the relative of numbers who had perished on the 
 Place Carrousel on the 10th of August, an old 
 antagonist of the French in the Spanish war, he 
 was filled with the strongest enmity at that 
 grasping tyranny, which, under the name of 
 freedom, threatened to extinguish all the liberties 
 of the civilized world. His militarj' talents and 
 long experience made him fully aware of the 
 perilous nature of the contest in which his coun- 
 trj'men were engaged; but he flattered himself 
 that, amid the precipices and woods of the Alps, 
 a Vendean war might be maintained till the Ger- 
 man nations were roused to their relief, forget- 
 ting that a few valleys whose whole population 
 was not eighty thousand, could hardly hope for 
 success in a contest in which three millions of 
 Bretons and Vendeans had failed.t 
 
 The peasants were justly apprehensive of the 
 First success- '^'^^ ^^^^S Carried into their own ter- 
 es and ulti- ritories, as the ravages of the sol- 
 mate disasters diers or the torch of the incendiary 
 of the peas- might destroy in a moment the work 
 ''"'^' of centuries of labour. Reding, too, 
 
 was in hopes that, by assailing the French 
 troops when dispersed over a long line, he might 
 gain a decisive success in the outset of the cam- 
 paign ; and, accordingl}^ it was determined to 
 make an immediate attack on Lucerne and Zu- 
 rich. A body of four thousand men marched 
 ij,pon the former town, which surrender- 
 '^" ■ ed bv capitulation, and where the Swiss 
 got possession of a few pieces of cannon, which 
 they made good use of in the mountain warfare 
 
 to which they were soon reduced. No sooner 
 had they made themselves masters of the city, 
 than, like the Vendeans, they flocked to the 
 churches to return thanks to Heaven for their 
 success. Meanwhile, two other columns threat- 
 ened Zurich, the one from Rapperswyl, theother 
 from Richtenswyl : but here they found that the 
 French, now thoroughly alarmed, were advan- 
 cing in great force, and that, abandoning all 
 thoughts of foreign conquest, it v/as necessary to 
 concentrate all their forces for the de- , ., „ , 
 fence of their own valleys. In eflfect, ^P""" ''"^''" 
 Schawenberg, with one brigade, surprised three 
 thousand peasants at Zug, and made them ali 
 prisoners ; while General Nouvion, after a bloody 
 conflict, Avon the passage of the Reuss at Mel- 
 lingen. He then divided his men into two di- 
 visions, one of which, after an obstinate battle, 
 drove the peasants back into Rapperswyl, while 
 the other forced them, after a desperate straggle, 
 from Richtensw^'l into the defile of Kusnacht.* 
 
 Afier these disasters, the canton of Zug, which 
 was now ovemm by French troops, ac- ,, 
 cepted the new Constitution. ButSchwytz ^^ 
 was still unsubdued; its little anny of three 
 thousand men resolved to defend their covmtry 
 or perish in the attempt. They took post under 
 Reding, at Morgarten, already immortalized in 
 the wars of Helvetic independence. At day- 
 break the French appeared, more than double 
 their force, descending the hills to jierojc ^g. 
 the attack. They instantly advan- fence of the 
 ced to meet them, and, running Schwytzers 
 across the plain, encountered their ^' Morgarten. 
 adversaries before they had come to the bottom 
 of the slope. The shock was irresistible ; the 
 French were borne backward to the summit of 
 the ridge, and after a furious conflict, which last- 
 ed the whole day, the peasants remained mas- 
 ters of the contested ground. Fresh re-enforce- 
 ments came up on both sides during the night, 
 and the struggle was renewed next day with 
 doubtful success. The coolness and skill of the 
 Swiss mark.smen counterbalanced the immense 
 superiority of force, and the greater experience 
 and rapidity of movement on the part of their 
 adversaries ; but, in spite of all their eflxjrts, they 
 were unable to gain a decisive success over the 
 invaders. The rocks, the woods, the „ „ 
 thickets, were bristling with armed men; '^^ 
 every cottage became a post of defence, every 
 meadow a scene of carnage, ever}' stream was 
 dyed with blood. Darkness put an end to the 
 contest, while the mountaineers were still unsub- 
 dued; but they received intelligence during the 
 night which rendered a longer continuance of 
 the struggle hopeless. The inhabitants of Uri 
 and Underwalden had been driven into their 
 valleys ; a French corps was rapidly marchings 
 in their rear upon Schwytz, where none but 
 women remained to defend the passes ; the aux- 
 iliaries of Sargans and Glarus had submitted to 
 the invaders. Slowly and reluctantly the men 
 of Schwytz were brought to yield to inexorable 
 necessity; a resolution not to submit till two 
 thirds of the canton had fallen was at first car- 
 ried by acclamation ; but at length they yielded 
 to the persuasions of an enlightened ecclesiastic 
 and the brave Reding, who represented the hope- 
 lessness of any farther contest, and agreed to a 
 convention by which they were to accept the 
 Constitution, and be allowed to enjoy the use of 
 
 * De Stael, R6ir. Fran?., ii.. 2i6. Lac, xiv., 218. 219. * Jom., x., 353, 356. Lac, liv., 221, 222. Ann. Reg., 
 Jom., X., S'lQ, 350. t Jom., x., 346. Lac, liv., 216. I 1793, 33. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 541 
 
 their arms, their religion, and their property, and 
 the French troops to be withdrawn from their 
 frontier. The other small cantons soon followed 
 their example, and peace was, for a lime, resto- 
 red to that part of Switzerland.* 
 
 The same checkered fortune attended the arms 
 of the Swiss in the Valais. The 
 m tht^Vahiis!' brave inhabitants of the rocky, pine- 
 clad mountains, which guard the 
 sources of the Rhone, descended from Leuk to 
 Sion, where they expelled the French garrison, 
 and pursued them as far as St. Maurice. Here, 
 however, they were assailed by a column of the 
 Republicans, on their march to Italy, and driven 
 back towards the Upper Valais. An ob- 
 ^^ ■ stinate conflict ensued at the bridge of La 
 Morge in front of Sion ; twice the Republicans 
 ■were repulsed ; even the Cretins, seeming to have 
 recovered their intellect amid the animation of 
 the aflray, behaved with devoted courage. At 
 length, however, the post was forced, and the 
 town carried by escalade ; the peasants, despair- 
 ing of success, retired to their mountains, and the 
 new Constitution was proclaimed without oppo- 
 sition, amid deserted and smoking ruins.t 
 
 A temporary breathing time from hostilities 
 Oppressive followed these bloody defeats ; but it 
 conduct of the "was a period of bitter suffering and 
 French to the humiliation to Switzerland. Forty 
 inhabitants. thousand men lived at free quarters 
 upon the inhabitants; the requisitions for the 
 pay, clothing, and equipment of these hard task- 
 masters proved a sad contrast to the illusions of 
 hope which had seduced the patriotism of its ur- 
 ban population. The rapacity and exactions of 
 the commissaries and inferior authorities exceed- 
 ed even the cruel spoliation of the Directory ; and 
 the warmest supporters of the Democratic party 
 sighed when they beheld the treasures, the accu- 
 mulation of ages, and the warlike stores, the 
 provident savings of unsubdued generations, sent 
 off, under a powerful guard, to France, never to 
 return. In vain the Revolutionary authorities 
 of Switzerland, now alive to the tyranny they 
 had brought on their country, protested against 
 the spoliation, and atSxed their seals to the treas- 
 ures which were to be carried off; they were in- 
 stantly broken by the French commissaries ; and 
 a proclamation of the Directory informed the in- 
 habitants that they were a conquered nation, and 
 must submit to the lot of the yanquished.i§ 
 All the public property, stores, and treasures 
 of the cantons were soon declared 
 fensfveTnddt P"^^ ^y the French authorities, the 
 fensive with liberties of the press extinguished, 
 France is for- a vexatious System of police intro- 
 cedonSwitz- d^ced, and those magistrates who 
 ^"^ *° ■ showed the slightest regard for the 
 
 liberties of their countiy dismissed without trial 
 or investigation. The ardent Democrats, who 
 had joined the French party in the commence- 
 ment of the troubles, were now the foremost to 
 
 * Jom., X., 357, 358. Lac, xiv., 224, 226. 
 
 t Jom., X., 360. 
 
 t Aim. Reg., 1798, 35, 36. Jom., i., 361. 
 
 <) The rapacity of the French commissaries, who followed 
 in the rear of the armies, soon made the Swiss regret even 
 the spoliations of Brune and their first conquerors. Lecar- 
 lier levied 100,000 crowns in Fribourg, and 800,000 francs in 
 Berne ; and as the public treasure was exhausted, the ef- 
 fects of 300 of the richest families were taken in payment, 
 and the principal senators sent as prisoners to the citadel of 
 Besanijon till the contribution was paid. He was succeeded 
 by Rapinat, whoso exactions were still more intolerable. 
 He levied a fresh contribution of 6,000,000 on Berne ; on 
 Zurich, Fribourg:, and Soleure, of 7,000,000 ; 750,000 francs 
 were taken from six abbeys alone.— Hard., vi., 160, 181. 
 
 exclaim against their rapacity, and lament their 
 own weakness in having ever lent an ear to their 
 promises. But it was all in vain ; more sub- 
 servient directors were placed by the French au- 
 thorities at the head of affairs, in lieu of 
 those who had resigned in disgust; and •*-"°- *• 
 an alliance offensive and defensive concluded at 
 Paris between the two republics, which bound 
 Switzerland to furnish a contingent of troops, and 
 to submit to the formation of two military roads 
 through the Alps, one to Italy, and one to Swa- 
 bia: conditions which, as Jomini justly ob- 
 serves, were worse for Switzerland than an an- 
 nexation to France, as they impo.sed upon it all 
 the burdens and dangers of war, without either 
 its advantages or its glories.* 
 
 The discontents arising from these circum- 
 stances were accumulating on all 
 
 sides, when the imposition of an oath •^'"''■''"^ 7" . 
 . ., ' ^ .•.^^- , 7 ' sistanceof Un. 
 
 to the new Constitution brought mat- and Schwytz. 
 ters to a crisis in the small cantons. Cruel massa- 
 AU took it with the utmost reluc- "^ ^y '^« 
 tance; but the shepherds of Under- ^'■'^"'^'^• 
 walden unanimously declared they would rather 
 perish, and thither the most determined of the 
 men of Schwytz and Uri flocked, to sell their 
 lives dearly in defence of their country. But re- 
 sistance was hopeless. Eight thousand French 
 embarked at Lucerne, and landed at Stantz, on 
 the eastern side, while the like number crossed 
 the beech-clad ridge of the Brunig, and descend- 
 ed by the lovely lakes of Lungern and Samen, at 
 the western extremity of the valley. Oppressed 
 by such overwhelming forces, the peasants no 
 longer hoped for success ; an honourable death 
 was alone the object of their wishes. In their 
 despair they obse-'ved little design, and were con- 
 ducted w^th hardiV any discipline; yet such is 
 the force of mere native valour, that for several 
 days it enabled three thousand shepherds to keep 
 at bay above sixteen thousand of the bravest 
 troops of France. Every hedge, every thicket, 
 every cottage, was obstinately contested ; the dy- 
 ing crawled into the hottest of the fire ; the wom- 
 en and children threw themselves upon the ene- 
 my's bayonets ; the grayhaired raised their feeble 
 hands against the invaders : but what could hero- 
 ism and devotion achieve against such desperate 
 odds 1 Slowly, but steadily, the French columns 
 forced their way through the valley, the flames 
 of the houses, the massacre of the inhabitants, 
 marking their steps. The beautiful village of 
 Stantz, entirely built of wood, was soon 
 consumed ; seventy peasants, with their ^''P'' ^" 
 curate at their head, perished in the flames of the 
 church. Two hundred auxiliaries from Schy wtz, 
 arriving too late to prevent the massacre, rushed 
 into the thickest of the fight ; and, after slaying 
 double their own number of the enemy, perished 
 to the last man. Night at length drew its veil 
 over these scenes of horror; but the fires from 
 the burning villages still threw a lurid light over 
 the cliffs of the Engelberg; and long after the 
 rosy tint of evening had ceased to tinge the gla- 
 ciers of the Titlis, the glare of the conflagratioa 
 illuminated the summit of the mountain.t 
 
 These tragical events were little calculated to 
 induce other states to follow the ex- t,, -, ■ 
 
 , !• , i-, ■ ■ ,,. . 1 -the trnsons 
 
 ample oi the Swiss in calling m the invoke the aid 
 aid of the French Democracy. The of Austria, 
 Grisons, who had felt the shocks of '■Y^o «™upy 
 the revolutionary earthquake, took ^^""^ go^-try. 
 
 * Jom., xi., 17, 18. Hard., vi., 180, 182. 
 t Lac, xiv., 229, 230. Ann. Reg., 1798, 34, 35. Jom., 
 xi., 19, 20. 
 
542 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 Oct. 19. 
 
 counsel from the disasters of their brethj'en in the 
 Forest Cantons, and invoking the aid of 
 Austria, guarantied by ancient treaties, 
 succeeded in preserving their independence and 
 ancient institutions. Seven thousand Imperial- 
 ists entered Coire in the end of October; and, 
 spreading through the valley of the Rhine, al- 
 ready occupied those posts which were destined to 
 be the scene of such sanguinary conflicts in the 
 succeeding campaign. The French, on their part, 
 augmented rather than diminished the force with 
 ■which they occupied Switzerland; and it was al- 
 ready apparent that, in the next conflict between 
 these gigantic powers, the Alps would be the 
 principal theatre of their strife.* 
 
 In this unprovoked attack upon Switzerland, 
 ^ . _ the Directory committed as great a 
 
 policy, as well fault in political wisdom as in moral 
 as iniquity, of duty. The neutrality of that coun- 
 the attack on try was a better defence to France, 
 Switzerland. ^^ -jg southeastern frontier, than 
 either the Rhine or the iron barrier on its north- 
 western. The allies could never venture to vio- 
 late the neutrality of the Helvetic Confederacy, 
 lest they should thi'ow its warlike population into 
 the arms of France ; no armies were required for 
 that frontier, and the whole disposable forces of 
 the state could be turned to the Rhine and the 
 Maritime Alps. In oflTensive operations, the ad- 
 vantage was equally apparent. The French, 
 possessing the line of the Rhine, with its numer- 
 ous fortifications, had the best possible base for 
 their operations in Germany; the fortresses of 
 Piedmont gave them the same advantage in 
 Italy; while the great mass of the Alps, occupied 
 by a neutral power, rendered their conquests, 
 pushed forward in either of these directions, se- 
 cure from an attack in flank, and preserved the 
 invading army from all risk of being cut off from 
 its resources. But when the Alps themselves 
 became the theatre of conflict, these advantages 
 were all lost to the Republic ; the bulwark of the 
 Rhine was liable to be rendered valueless at any 
 time by a reverse in Switzerland, and France 
 exposed to an invasion in the only quarter where 
 the frontier is totally defenceless ; while the forti- 
 fications of Mantua and the line of the Adige 
 were of comparatively little importance, when 
 they were liable to be turned by any inconsidera- 
 ble success in the Grisons or the Italian baili- 
 wicks. The Tyrol, besides, with its numerous, 
 ■warlike, and enthusiastic population, afforded a 
 base for mountain warfare, and a secure asylum 
 in case of disaster, which the French could never 
 expect to find amid the foreign language and hos- 
 tile feelings of German Switzerland ; while, by 
 extending the line of operations from the Adri- 
 atic to the Channel, the. Republic was forced to 
 defend an extent of frontier, for which even its 
 resources, ample as they were, might be expect- 
 ed to prove insufficient.t 
 
 Nothing done by the Revolutionary govem- 
 Great indig- ment of France ever had so power- 
 nation excited ful an effect in cooling the ardour 
 by it in Eu- of its partisans in Europe, and open- 
 rope, jjjg ^jjg gygg Q^ jj^g intelligent and 
 respectable classes in every other country as to 
 their ultimate designs, as the attack on Switzer- 
 land.: As long as the Republic was contending 
 
 * Jom., xi., 20, 22. 
 
 t Arch. Ch., i., 127, 140. Jom., x., 286, 289. 
 
 t Its effect on the friends of freedom in England may be 
 judged of from the following indisnant lines by Coleridge, 
 once an ardent supporter of the ReTolution, in his Ode to 
 Freedom, written in 1798 : 
 
 with the armies of kings or resisting the efforts 
 of the aristocracy, it was alleged that it was only 
 defending its own liberties, and that the whole 
 monarchies of Europe were leagued together for 
 its destruction. But when, in a moment of gen- 
 eral peace, its rulers commenced an unprovoked 
 attack on the Swiss confederacy ; when the loud 
 declaimers in favour of popular rights forced an 
 obnoxious Constitution on the mountaineers of 
 the Alps, and desolated with fire and sword the 
 beautiful recesses of the Democratic cantons, 
 the sympathies of Europe were awakened in fa- 
 vour of a gallant and suffering people, and the 
 native atrocity of the invasion called forth the 
 wishes of freedom on the other side. The Whig 
 leaders of England, w-ho had palliated the atro- 
 cities of the Revolution longer than was consist- 
 ent either with their own character or their in- 
 terest as a political party, confessed that "the 
 mask had fallen from the face of Revolution- 
 ary^ France, " if, indeed, it ever had worn it."* 
 " Where," it was asked over all Europe, " will 
 the Revolution stop 1 What country could be 
 imagined less alluring to their cupidity than 
 that where, notwithstanding the industry of the 
 inhabitants, the churlish soil will barely yield it.s 
 children breadl What government can pretend 
 to favour in the eyes of the Directory, when it 
 visits with fire and sword those fields where the 
 whole inhabitants of a canton assemble under 
 the vault of heaven to deliberate, like the Spar- 
 tans of old, on their common concerns 1 What 
 fidelity and proof of confidence does it expect 
 more complete than that which leaves a whole 
 frontier without defence, or, rather, which has 
 hitherto considered it as better defended by the 
 unalterable neutrality of its faithful allies, than 
 by the triple line of fortresses which elsewhere 
 guards the entrance to its soil V'i 
 
 The Ecclesiastical States were the next object 
 of attack. It had long been an avowed object 
 of ambition with the Republican government to 
 revolutionize the Roman people, and plant the 
 tricolour flag in the city of Brutus,; and fortune 
 
 "Forgive me. Freedom 1 oh, forgive those dreams I 
 I hear thy voice, I hear thy loud lament, 
 From bleak Helvetia's icy cavern sent ; 
 I hear thy groans upon her bloodstain'd streams ! 
 Heroes, that for your peaceful country perish'd, 
 And ye that, fleeing, spot your mountain snows 
 
 With bleeding wounds, forgive me that 1 cherish'd 
 One thought that ever bless'd your cruel foes I 
 To scatter rage and traitorous guilt 
 Where peace her jealous home had built; 
 A patriot race to disinherit 
 Of all that made their stormy wilds so dear ! 
 Oh 1 France, that niockest Heaven, adulterous, blind'^ 
 
 And patriot only in pernicious toils. 
 Are these thy boasts, champion of human-kind, 
 
 To insult the shrine of Liberty with spoils 
 From freemen torn — to tempt and to betray V 
 * Pari. Deb., xxxiv., 1323. 
 t Dum., i., 428, 429. Jom., x., 331. 
 t The resolution of Napoleon and the Directory to revo- 
 lutionize Rome, and effect the overthrow of the papal gov- 
 ernment, was adopted long before the treaty of Campo For- 
 mio. On the 12th of Febrnarj-, 1797, the Directory wrote 
 to Napoleon, " The possession of Tyrol and Trieste, and 
 the conquest of Rome, will be the glorious fruits of the faU 
 of Mantua." On the I9th of May, 1797, Napo- ^^ ^.^ 
 
 leon wrote to the Directory, " The pope is dan- > > ' • 
 gerously ill, and is eighty-three years old. The moment I 
 received this intelligence, 1 assembled all my Poles at Bo- 
 logna, from whence 1 shall push them forward toAncona. 
 What shall 1 do if the pope dies V The Directory ,^25. 
 answered, " The minister of foreign affairs will in- 
 form General Bonaparte that they trust to his accustomed 
 prudence to bring about a Democratic revolution in the Ro- 
 man States with as little convulsion as possible."* The 
 prospect, however, failed at that time, as the pope recover- 
 
 •* Hard., iv., 3S7, 388. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 543 
 
 at length presented them with a favourable op- 
 portunity to accomplish the design. 
 
 The situation ot the pope had become, since 
 
 ».. 1 .1, the French conquests in Italy, in the 
 Attack on the , . , , , ^ . -Vt . ,-»• 
 
 papal slates, highest degree precarious. Cut oil. 
 Miserable by the Cisalpine Republic, from any 
 state of the support from Austria; left, by the 
 P"^®" treaty of Campo Formio, entirely at 
 
 the mercy of the French Republic ; threatened 
 by the heavings of the Democratic spirit within 
 his own dominions, and exposed to all the con- 
 tagion arising from the complete establishment 
 and close vicinity of Republican governments 
 in the north of Italy, he was almost destitute of 
 the means of resisting so many seen and unseen 
 enemies. The pontihcal treasury was exhaust- 
 ed by the immense payments stipulated by the 
 treaty of Tolentino ; while the activity and zeal 
 of the Revolutionary clubs in all the principal 
 towns of the Ecclesiastical Stales was daily in- 
 creasing with the prospect of success. To ena- 
 ble the government to meet the enormous de- 
 mands of the French army, the principal Roman 
 families, like the pope, had sold their gold, their 
 silver, their jewels, their horses, their carriages — 
 in a word, all their valuable effects ; but the ex- 
 actions of the Republican agents were still una- 
 bated. In despair, they had recourse to the fa- 
 tal expedient of issuing a paper circulation ; 
 but that, in a country destitute of credit,* soon 
 fell to an inconsiderable value, and augmented 
 rather than relieved the public distress. 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte, brother to Napoleon, had 
 been appointed ambassador at the court of 
 Rome ; but as his character was deemed too 
 honourable for political intrigue. Generals Du- 
 phot and Sherlock were sent along with him, 
 
 ed. Meanwhile, the pillage of the Ecclesiastical States con- 
 tinued without intermission ; and, having exhausted the pub- 
 lic treasury, and drained the country of all its specie, the 
 French agents laid their rapacious hands upon all the jew- 
 els and precious stones they could find. The value of plun- 
 der thus got was astonishing. "The pope," says Cacault, 
 the French ambassador at Rome, to Napoleon, "gives us 
 full satisfaction in everything regarding any errors in ac- 
 counting, weight, &c., that may occur in the payment of 
 the 30,000,000 francs. The payments in diamonds amount 
 Junes 1797 «» H, 2" 1,000 /rancs (£450,000). He has paid 
 ' ' 4,000,000 in francs, of contributions levied since 
 the treaty of Tolentino. But it is with the utmost difficulty 
 that these payments are raised ; the country is exhausted ; 
 let us not drive it to bankruptcy. My agent, Citizen Hal- 
 ler, wrote to me the other day, ' Do not forget, citizen min- 
 ister, that the immense and unceasing demands of the army 
 oblige us to play a little the corsair, and that we must not 
 enter into discussions, as it would sometimes turn out that 
 ■we are in the wnmg ' I always supported a mortal war 
 against the pope, as long as the papal government resisted ; 
 but now that it is prostrated at our feet, I am become sud- 
 denly pacific ; I think such a system is both for your inter- 
 est and that of tlie Directory."* On the 25th of May, 1797, 
 the same ambassador wrote to Napoleon : " I am occupied in 
 collecting and transporting from hence to Milan all the dia- 
 Tnonds and jewels I can collect ; 1 send there also whatever 
 is made the subject of dispute in the payments of the con- 
 tributions. You will keep in view that the people here are 
 exhausted, and that it is in vain to expect the destitute to pay. 
 I take advantage of these circumstances to prostrate at your 
 feet Rome and the papal government."! On the 5th of Au- 
 gust, 1797, he again wrote to Napoleon : " Discontent is at 
 its height in the papal states ; the government will fall to 
 pieces of itself, as 1 have repeatedly predicted to you. But 
 it is not at Rome that the explosion will take place ; too 
 many persons are here dependant upon the expenditure of 
 the great. The payment of 30,000,000, stipulated by the 
 treaty of Tolentino, at the close of so many previous losses, 
 has totally exhausted this old carcass. We are making it 
 expire by a slow fire ; it will soon crumble to the dust. The 
 Revolutionists, by accelerating matters, would only hasten 
 a dissolution certain and inevitable."^ 
 * Hard., v., 175, 176. Bot., li., 443. 
 
 * Corresp. Conf., iii., 274, 275. 
 } lb., iii., 515, 516. 
 
 > lb., iii., 246, 249. 
 
 the former of whom had been so successful in 
 etlecting the overthrow of the Genoese aristocra- 
 cy. The French embassy, under their direclion, 
 soon became the centre of ilie revolutionary ac- 
 tion, and those numerous ardent characters with 
 which the Italian cities abound, flocked there as 
 to a common focus, from whence the next great 
 explosion of Democratic power was to be ex- 
 pected.* In this extremity, Pius VI., who was 
 above eighty years of age, and sinking into the 
 grave, called to his counsels the Austrian gen- 
 eral Provera, already distinguished in the Italiaa 
 campaigns ; but the Directory soon compelled 
 the humiliated pontiff to dismiss that intrepid 
 counsellor.t As his recovery then seemed hope- 
 less, the instructions of government to their am- 
 bassador were to delay the proclamation of a 
 Republic till his death, when the vacant chair of 
 St. Peter might be overturned with little difficul- 
 ty ; but such was the activity of the revolution- 
 ary agents, that the train was ready to take fire 
 before that event took place, and the ears of the 
 Romans were assailed by incessant abuse of the 
 ecclesiastical government, and vehement decla- 
 mations in favour of Republican freedom. t 
 
 The resolution to overturn the papal govern- 
 ment, like all the other ambitious projects of the 
 Directory, received a very great impulse from 
 the reascendant of Jacobin influence at Paris, 
 by the results of the revolution of 18th Fructi- 
 dor. One of the first measures of the new gov- 
 
 * It would appear, however, that the French ambassador 
 was by no means satisfied with the first efforts of the Roman 
 patriots. " They have manifested," said Joseph Bonaparte 
 to Napoleon, " all the disposition to overturn the govern- 
 ment, but none of the resolution. If they have thought and 
 felt like Brutus and the great men of antiquity, they have 
 spoken like women., and acted like children. The government 
 has caused them all to be arrested." — Letter of Joseph to Na- 
 poleon, lOth of September, 1797— Corresp. Confid. 
 
 t " You must forthwith intimate to the court of Rome," 
 said Napoleon to his brother Joseph, ambassador „ ,. i-of 
 there, "that if General Provera is not imme- '^P^-^'^'^^' 
 diately sent away from Rome, the Republic will regard it 
 as a declaration of war. I attach the utmost importance to 
 the removal of an Austrian commander from the Romaa 
 troops. You will insist not only that he be depnved of tha 
 command of the Roman troops, but that, within twenty-four 
 hours, he departs from Rome. Assume a high tone : it is 
 only by evincing the greatest firmness, and making use of 
 the most energetic expressions, that you will succeed in 
 overawing the papal authority. Timid when you show 
 your teeth, they rapidly become overbearing if you treat: 
 them with any respect. I know the court of Rome well. 
 That single step, if properly taken, will complete its ruin. 
 At the same time, you will hold out to the papal secretary 
 of state, 'That the French Republic, continuing its feelings 
 of regard for the papal government, is on the point of resto- 
 ring Anr.ona. You are ruining all your affairs ; the whole 
 responsibility rests on your head. The French troops will 
 give you no assistance in quelling the revolts with which. 
 you are menaced, if you continue your present course.' 
 Should the pope die, you must do your utmost to prevent 
 the. nomination of a successor, and bring about a revolution. 
 Depend upon it, the King of Naples will not stir. Should 
 he do so, you will inform him that the Roman people are 
 under the piotection of the French Republic ; but, at the 
 same time, you must hold out to hira secretly that the French 
 government is desirous to renew its negotiations with him. 
 In a word, you must be as haughty in pubhc as you are 
 pliant in private, the object of the first lieing to deter hiia 
 from entering Rome ; of the last, to make hiin believe that 
 It is for his interest not to do so. Should no revolutionary 
 movement break out at Rome, so that there is no pretence 
 for preventing the nomination of a pope at least, take care 
 that the Cardinal Albani is not put in nomination. Declare 
 that the moment that is done I will march upon Rome.'"' — 
 Secret Despatch, Napoleon to Joseph Bonaparte, dated Pas- 
 seriano, 29th Sept., 1797. These instructions, it is to be 
 recollected, were sent to the French ambassador at Rome, 
 when France was still and completely at peace with the 
 Holy See, and it had honourably discharged the burdensome 
 conditions of the treaty of Tolentino. 
 
 I Bot.. ii., 443, 445. Lac, xiv., 145, 147. Jem., x., 332. 
 
 * Corresp. Confid., ir , 199, 201. 
 
544 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI, 
 
 emment was to despatch an order to Joseph Bo- 
 naparte at Rome, to promote, by all the means 
 in his power, the approaching revolution in the 
 papal states; and, above all things, to take care 
 that, at the pope's death, no successor should be 
 elected to the chair of St. Peter.* Napoleon's 
 language to the Roman pontifT became daily 
 more menacing. Immediately before setting 
 out for Rastadt, he ordered his brother Joseph to 
 intimate to the pope that three thousand addi- 
 tional troops had been forwarded to Ancona ; 
 that if Provera was not dismissed within twenty- 
 four hours, war would be declared ; that if any 
 of the revolutionists who had been arrested were 
 executed, reprisals would forthwith be exercised 
 on the cardinals; and that, if the Cisalpine Re- 
 public was not instantly recognised, it would be 
 the signal for immediate hostilities.t At the 
 same time, ten thousand troops of the Cisalpine 
 Republic advanced to St. Leon, in the papal 
 duchy of Urbino, and made themselves masters 
 •of that fortress; while at Ancona, which was 
 still garrisoned by French troops, notwithstand- 
 ing its stipulated restoration by the treaty of To- 
 lentino to the Holy See, the Democratic party 
 openly proclaimed " the Anconite Republic." 
 Similar revolutionary movements took place at 
 Cometo, Civita Vecchia, Pesaro, and Senigag- 
 lia ; while at Rome itself, Joseph Bonaparte, by 
 compelling the papal government to liberate all 
 persons confined for political offences, suddenly 
 vomited forth upon the capital several hundreds 
 of the most heated Republicans in Italy. After 
 this great addition, measures were no longer 
 kept with the government. Seditious meetings 
 were constantly held in every part of the city ; 
 immense collections of tricolour cockades were 
 made to distinguish the insurgents, and deputa- 
 tions of the citizens openly waited upon the 
 French ambassador to invite him to support the 
 insurrection, to which he replied in ambiguous 
 terms, " The fate of nations, as of individuals, 
 
 * Talleyrand, on the 10th of October, wrote to Joseph 
 Bonaparte at Rome : " You have two things, citizen gener- 
 al, to do : 1. To prevent, by all possible means, the King of 
 Naples from entering the papal territory. 2. To increase, 
 rather than restrain, the good dispositions of those who think 
 that it IS high time the reign of the popes should finish ; in 
 a word, to encourage the elan of the Roman people towards 
 liberty. At aU events, take care that we get hold of Ancona 
 and a large portion of the coast of Italy."* Eleven days af- 
 terward, LareveiUere Lepau.\, president of the Directory, 
 ■wrote to Napoleon : " In regard to Rome, the Directory 
 •cordially approve of the instructions you have given to your 
 brother to prevent a successor being appointed to Pius VI. 
 We must hiy hold of the present favourable circumstances 
 to deliver Europe from the pretended papal supremacy, Tus- 
 cany will next attract your attention. You will, therefore, 
 if hostilities are resumed, give the grand-duke his conge, 
 and facilitate by every ineuns the establishment of a free and 
 representative government in Tuscany." — Letter of the Direc- 
 tory to Napoleon, 21st Oct., 1797 — Corresp. Confid., iv.,241. 
 
 t " I cannot tell you, citizen ambassador," said Napoleon, 
 ■" what indignation I felt when I heard that Provera was 
 still m the service of the pope. Let him know instantly, 
 that, though the French Republic is at peace with the Holy 
 See, it will not for an instant suffer any officer or agent of 
 the Imperialists to hold any situation under the ])apal gov- 
 ernment. You will therefore insist on the dismissal of M. 
 Provera within twenty-four hours, on pain of instantly de- 
 manding ynur passports. You will let him know that I 
 have moved three thousand additional soldiers to Ancona, 
 not one of whom will recede till Provera is dismissed. Let 
 him know farther, that if one of the prisoners for political 
 offences is executed, Cardinal Rusca and the other cardinals 
 shall answer for it with th'ir heads. Finally, make him 
 aware that, the moment you quit the papal territory, Ancona 
 will be incorporated with the Cisalpine Republic. You will 
 easily understand that the last phrase must be spoken, not 
 written "— Confidential Letter, Napoleon to Joseph Bona- 
 parte. Mth Nov., 1797. 
 
 * Corresp. Conf., Ocl. 10, 1797. 
 
 being buried in the womb of futurity, it is not 
 given to me to penetrate its mysteries."* 
 
 In this temper of men's minds, a spark was 
 sufhcient to occasion an explosion. On the 27th 
 of December, 1798, an immense crowd assem- 
 bled, with seditious cries, and moved to the pal- 
 ace of the French ambassador, where they ex- 
 claimed, " Vive la Republique Romaine !" and 
 loudly invoked the aid of the French to enable 
 them to plant the tricolour flag on the Capitol. 
 The insurgents displayed the tricolour cockade, 
 and evinced the most menacing disposition ; the 
 danger was extreme ; from similar beginnings 
 the overthrow of the governments of Venice and 
 Genoa had rapidly followed. The papal minis- 
 ters sent a regiment of dragoons to prevent any 
 sortie of the Revolutionists from the palace of 
 the French ambassador ; and they repeatedly 
 warned the insurgents that their orders were to 
 allow no one to leave its precincts. Duphot, 
 
 however, indignant at being re- 
 
 Duphot is slain 
 
 Strained by the pontifical troops, m a scuffle at 
 drew his sword, rushed down the the French am- 
 staircase, and put himself at the i^assador's. 
 head of one hundred and fifty armed Roman 
 Democrats, who were now contending with the 
 dragoons in the courtyard of the jalace; he was 
 immediately killed by a discharge ordered by the 
 sergeant commanding the patrol of the papal 
 troops ; and the ambassador himself, who had 
 followed to appease the tumult, narrowly es- 
 caped the same fate. A violent scuffle ensued ; 
 several persons were killed and wounded on both 
 sides ; and, after remaining several hours in the 
 greatest alarm, Joseph Bonaparte, with his suite, 
 retired to Florence.t 
 
 This catastrophe, however obviously occa- 
 sioned by the revolutionary schemes warisin con- 
 which were in agitation at the resi- sequence de- 
 dence of the French ambassador, dared against 
 having taken place within the pre- R^™''' 
 cincts of his palace, was, unhappily, a violation 
 of the law of nations, and gave the Directory too 
 fair a ground to demand satisfaction. But they 
 instantly resolved to make it the pretext for the 
 immediate occupation of Rome and overthrow 
 of the papal government. The march of troops 
 out of Italy was countermanded, and Berthier, 
 the commander-in-chief, received orders to ad- 
 vance rapidly into the Ecclesiastical States. 
 Meanwhile, the Democratic spirit burst forth 
 more violently than ever at Ancona and the neigh- 
 bouring towns, and the papal authority was soon 
 lo.st in all the provinces on the eastern slope of 
 the Apennines. To these accumulated disasters 
 the pontifi' could only oppose the fasts and pray- 
 ers of an aged conclave — weapons of spiritual 
 warfare little calculated to arrest the conquerors 
 of Areola and Lodi.t 
 
 Berthier, without an instant's delay, carried 
 into execution the orders of the Di- Berthier ad- 
 rectory. Six thousand Poles were vances to 
 stationed at Rimini to cover the Cis- Rome. Jan. 
 alpine Republic; a reserve was es- 25,1,98. 
 tablished at Tolentino, while the commander-in- 
 chief, at the head of eighteen thousand veteran 
 troops, entered Ancona. Having completed the 
 work of revolution in that turbulent district, and 
 secured the fortress, he crossed the Apennines; 
 and, advancing by Foligno and Narni, appeared 
 on the 10th of February before the Eternal City. 
 
 * Hard., v., 196, 206. „„„,,. 
 
 t Joseph Bonaparte's Report. Hard., v., 207, 209, 215. 
 Bot.. ii., 445, 447. Lac, xiv., 146, 147. Jom., x., 333, 334. 
 X Bot., ii., 450. Jom., X., 334. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 545 
 
 The pope, in the utmost consternation, shut him- 
 self up in the Vatican, and spent night and day 
 at the foot of the altar in imploring the Divine 
 protection. *t 
 
 Rome, almost defenceless, would have ofler- 
 ed no obstacle to the entrance of the 
 ■^"^R me"" French troops ; but it was part of the 
 '""^' policy of the Directory to make it ap- 
 pear that their aid was invoked by the spontane- 
 ous eflbrts of the inhabitants. Contenting him- 
 self, therefore, with occupying the castle of St. 
 Angelo, from which the feeble guards of the pope 
 were soon expelled, Berthier kept his troops for 
 five days encamped without the walls. At length, 
 the Revolutionists having completed their 
 Feb. 15. preparations, a noisy crowd assembled 
 in the Campo Vaccino, the ancient Forum; the 
 old foundations of the Capitol were made again 
 to resound with the cries, if not the spirit, of free- 
 dom, and the venerable ensigns, 'S. P. Q,.R., after 
 the lapse of fourteen hundi'ed years, again float- 
 ed in the winds. i The multitude tumultuously 
 demanded the overthi'ow of the papal authority; 
 the French troops were invited to enter ; the con- 
 querors of Italy, with a haughty air, passed the 
 gates of Aurelian, defiled through the Piazza del 
 Popolo, gazed on the indestructible monuments 
 of Roman grandeur, and, amid the shouts of the 
 inhabitants, the tricolour flag was displayed from 
 the summit of the Capitol. 
 
 But while part of the Roman populace were 
 Atrocious era- surrendering themselves to a pardon- 
 city of the Re- able intoxication upon the fancied 
 publicans to recovery of their liberties, the agents 
 the pope. Qf fj^g Directory were preparing for 
 
 them the sad realities of slavery. The pope, 
 who had been guarded by five hundred soldiers 
 ever since the entry of the Republicans, was di- 
 rected to retire into Tuscany ; his Swiss guard 
 relieved by a French one, and he himself ordered 
 
 " Bot., li., 452. Jom., x., 336. Hard., v., 230, 241. 
 
 t The Directory, iii their orders to Berthier, prescribed 
 to him a course as perfidious as it was hostile. Their words 
 ■were as follows : " The lutention of the Directory is, that 
 you march as secretly and rapidly as possible on Rome with 
 18,000 men. Its celerity is of the utmost importance ; that 
 alone can ensure success. The King of Naples will proba- 
 bly send an envoy to your headquarters, to whom you will 
 declare that the French government is actuated by no ambi- 
 tious designs ; and that, if it was generous enough to re- 
 strain its indignation at Toleutino, when it had much more 
 serious causes of complaint against the Holy See, it is still 
 more probable that it will do the same now. While holding 
 out these assurances, you will, at the same time, advance as 
 rapidly as possible towards Rome ; the great object is to keep 
 your design secret till you are so near that city that the King 
 of Naples cannot prevent it. When within two days' march 
 of Rome, menace the pope and all the members of the gov- 
 ernment, iu order to terrify them, and make them take to 
 flight. Arrived in Rome, employ your whole influence to es- 
 tablish a Roman republic.^' — Hard., v., 221. 
 
 Berthier, however, was too much a man of honour to en- 
 ter cordially into the revolutionary projects of the Directory. 
 On the 1st of January, 1798, he wrote to Napoleon, " I al- 
 ways told you the command in Italy was not suited to me. 
 I wish to extricate myself from revolutions. Four years' 
 service in them in America, ten in France, is enough, gen- 
 eral. I shall ever be ready to combat as a soldier for my 
 country, but have no desire to be ini.\ed up with revolution- 
 ary politics."* It would appear that the Roman people gen- 
 erally had no greater desire than he had to be involved in a 
 revolution ; for, on the morning of his arrival at that city, he 
 wrote to Napoleon, " 1 have been in Rome since this morn- 
 ing, but I have found nothing but the utmost consternation 
 among the inhabitants. One solitary patriot has appeared 
 at headquarters ; he offered to put at my disposition two thou- 
 sand galley-slaves ; you may believe how I received that 
 proposition. My farther presence here is useless. I beseech 
 you to recall ine ; it is the greatest boon you can possibly 
 confer upon me." — Berthier to \apoleon, lOth of February, 
 1798— Corresp. Confid., iv., 510. 
 
 t Bot., ii.. 458.459. .lom., x., 336. Lac, xiv., 150. 
 
 Vol. I.— Z z a 
 
 Corresp. Conf., iv., iS2, 
 
 to dispossess himself of all his temporal author- 
 ity. He replied, with the firmness of a martyr, 
 " I am prepared for every species of disgrace. 
 As supreme pontifi; I am resolved to die in the 
 exercise of all my powers. You may employ 
 force — you have the power to do so; but know 
 that, though you may be masters of my body, you 
 are not so of my soul. Free in the region where 
 it is placed, it fears neither the events nor the 
 sufferings of this life. I stand on the threshold 
 of another world ; there I shall be sheltered alike 
 from the violence and impiety of this." Force 
 was soon employed to dispossess him of his au- 
 thority ; he was dragged from the altar in his pal- 
 ace, his repositories all ransacked and plundered, 
 the rings even torn from his fingers, the whole ef- 
 fects in the Vatican and GLuirinal inventoried and 
 seized, and the aged pontifl' conducted, with only 
 a few domestics, amid the brutal jests and sacri- 
 legious songs of the French dragoons, into Tusca- 
 ny, where the generous hospitality of the grand- 
 duke strove to soften the hardships of his exile. 
 But, though a captive in the hands of his ene- 
 mies, the venerable old man still retained the su- 
 preme authority in the Church. From his retreat; 
 in the convent of the Chartreuse, he yet guided the 
 counsels of the faithful ; multitudes fell on their 
 knees wheru;ver he passed, and sought that bene- 
 diction from a captive which they would, perhaps, 
 have disregarded from a triumphant pontiff.* 
 
 The subsequent treatment of this venerable 
 man was as disgraceful to the Re- 
 publican government as it was hon- uelf s'evTru'v'" 
 ourable to his piety and con.stancy towards him. 
 as the head of the Church. Fear- He is removed 
 ful that from his virtues and sufler- '"'" France, 
 ings he might have too much infiu- ^^'^^ ''^"^'^ ^les. 
 ence on the continent of Italy, he was removed 
 by their orders to Leghorn, in March, 1799, with 
 the design of transferring him to Cagliari iu 
 Sardinia ; and the English cruisers in the Medi- 
 terranean redoubled their vigilance, in the gen- 
 erous hope of rescuing the father of an opposite 
 church from the persecution of his enemies. 
 Apprehensive of losing their prisoner, the French 
 altered his destination, and forcing him to trav- 
 erse, often during the night, the Apennines and 
 the Alps in a rigorous season, he at length 
 
 reached Valence, where, after an ill- . „„ „„„ 
 r- , 1 i_ • J ■ .1 Aug. 29, 1799. 
 
 ness of ten days, he expired, in the 
 
 eighty-second year of his age, and the twenty- 
 fourth of his pontificate. The cruelty of the Di- 
 rectory increased as he approached their domin- 
 ions ; all his old attendants were compelled to 
 leave him, and the Father of the Faithful was 
 allowed to expire, attended only by his confes- 
 sor. Yet even in this disconsolate state he de- 
 rived the highest satisfaction from the devotion 
 and reverence of the people in the provinces of 
 France through which he passed. Multitudes 
 from Gap, Vizelle, and Grenoble flocked to the 
 road to receive his benediction; and he frequent- 
 ly repeated, with tears in his eyes,t the words of 
 Scripture, " Verily, I say unto you, I have not; 
 seen such faith, no, not in Israel." 
 
 But long before the pope had sunk under the 
 persecution of his oppressors, Rome Systematic ■ 
 had experienced the bitter fruits of and ai>omina- 
 Republican fraternization. Imme- ble pillage of 
 diately after the entry of the French ?"""', (''^ '■^^ 
 troops commenced the regular and "''" "^^°^' 
 
 * Bot., ii., 463. Lac, xiv., 152, 153. Hard., v., 243, 244, 
 Pace a. 1., 172, 174. 
 
 t Hard., v., 248, 253. Lac, xiv., 157, 159. Bot., ii., 464. 
 Pacca, i., 180, 194. 
 
515 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 systematic pillage of the city. Not only the 
 churches and the convents, but the palaces of the 
 cardinals and of the nobility were laid Avaste. 
 The agents of the Directory, insatiable in the 
 pursuit of plunder, and merciless in the means 
 of exacting it, ransacked every quarter within 
 its walls, seized the most valuable works of art, 
 and stripped the Eternal City of those treasures 
 ■which had sui-vived the Gothic fire and the ra- 
 pacious hands of the Spanish soldiers. The 
 bloodshed was much less, but the spoil collected 
 incomparably greater, than at the disastrous sack 
 ■which followed the death of the Constable Bour- 
 bon. Almost all the great works of art which 
 have, since that time, been collected throughout 
 Europe, were then scattered abroad. The spoli- 
 ation exceeded all that the Goths or Vandals had 
 elfected. Not only the palaces of the Vatican, 
 and the Monte Cavallo, and the chief nobility 
 of Rome, but those of Castel Gandolfo, on the 
 margin of the Alban Lake, of Terracina, the 
 Villa Albani, and others in the environs of Rome, 
 -were plundered of every article of value which 
 they possessed. The whole sacerdotal habits 
 of the pope and cardinals were burned, in order 
 to collect from the flames the gold "with which 
 they were adorned. The Vatican was stripped 
 to its naked walls ; the immortal frescoes of 
 Raphael and Michael Angelo remained in solita- 
 ry beauty amid the general desolation. A con- 
 tribution of four millions in money, two millions 
 in provisions, and three thousand horses, was im- 
 posed on a city already exhausted by the enor- 
 mous exactions it had previously undergone. 
 Under the directions of the infamous commis- 
 sary Haller, the domestic library, museum, fur- 
 niture, jewels, and even the private clothes of 
 the pope, were sold. Nor did the palaces of the 
 Roman nobility escape devastation. The noble 
 galleries of the Cardinal Braschi and the Cardi- 
 nal York, the last relic of the Stuart line, under- 
 •went the same fate. Others, as those of the 
 Chigi, Borghese, and Doria palaces, were res- 
 cued from destruction only by enormous ran- 
 soms. Ever}'thing of value that the treaty of 
 Tolentino had left in Rome became the prey of 
 Republican cupidity, and the very name of free- 
 dom soon became odious, from the sordid and infa- 
 mous crimes which were committed in its name.* 
 Nor were the exactions of the French confined 
 
 „ c . to the plunder of palaces and church- 
 Connscation x-t- i ^ i- i * j 
 
 of the -whole es. Eight cardmals were arrested 
 Church prop- and sent to Civita Castellana, while 
 erty in the pa- enormous contributions were levied 
 X.al territories. ^^ ^^^ papal territorj', and brought 
 home the bitterness of conquest to every- poor 
 man's door. At the same time, the ample terri- 
 torial possessions of the Church and the monas- 
 teries were confiscated, and declared national 
 property ; a measure which, by drying up at 
 once the whole resources of the affluent classes, 
 precipitated into the extreme of miser}' the nu- 
 merous poor who were maintained by their ex- 
 penditure or fed by their bounty. All the re- 
 spectable citizens and clergy were in fetters ; 
 and a base and despicable faction alone, among 
 •whom, to their disgrace be it told, were found 
 fourteen cardinals, followed in the train of the 
 oppressors ;t and at a public festival, returned 
 thanks to God for the miseries they had brought 
 upon their country. 
 
 To such a height did the disorders rise, that 
 they excited the indignation of the 
 army itself, albeit little scrupulous in jers'exdte'^' 
 general about the means tiy which even the in- 
 plunder was acquired. While the dignation of 
 agents of the Directory were thus en- '^* Ffench 
 riching themselves, and sullying the ^'"^' 
 name of France by unheard-of spoliation, the 
 inferior otficers and soldiers were suffering the 
 greatest privations. For several months they 
 had been without pay, their clothes were wora 
 out, their feet bare, their knapsacks empty. In- 
 dignant at the painful contrast which their condi- 
 tion offered to that of the civil agents, who were 
 daily becoming richer from the spoils of the 
 city, and comparing their penury with the luxu- 
 rious condition of the corps stationed in the Cis- 
 alpine Republic, the otficers and soldiers in and 
 around Rome broke out into open and unmeas- 
 ured terms of vituperation. On the 24th p j, 24 
 of February a general meeting of all the 
 officers, from the rank of captain downward-, 
 was held in the Pantheon, at which an address 
 was agreed to by General Berthier, in whick 
 they declared their detestation of the extortions 
 Avhich had been practised in Rome, protested 
 that they would no longer be the instruments of 
 the ignominious wretches who had made suck 
 a use of their valour, and insisted for immediate 
 payment of their large arrears. The discor>- 
 terits soon wore so alarming an aspect, that Mas- 
 sena, ■«'ho had assumed the command, ordered 
 all the troops, excepting three thousand, to leave 
 the capital. But they refused to obey; and an- 
 other meeting, at which still more Great mutiny 
 menacing language was used, hav- at Rome and 
 ing shortly after been held,* which Mantua, 
 his soldiers refused to disperse, he was compelled 
 to abandon the command and retire to Ancona, 
 leaving the direction of the army to General 
 D'Allemagne. At the same time, the troops in 
 Mantua raised the standard of revolt, and, re- 
 solving to abandon Italy, had already fixed all 
 their days' mai^ch to Lyons and the banks of the 
 Rhine.t 
 
 * Hard., v., 244,245,249. Bot., ii., 465, 469,470. Jom., 
 I., 336, 337. Lac. xiv., 160, 161. 
 
 + Bot., ii., 472, 473. Ann. Reg., 1798, 60, 62. Jom., x., 
 337, 338. Lac, xiv., 160, 161. 
 
 * St. Cyr, Hist. Mil., i., 35, 36. Ann. Reg., 1798, 60, 61. 
 Jom., X., 338. Bot., ii., 470, 471. Hard., v., 254. 
 
 t The remonstrance framed by the French army at this 
 great meeting in the Pantheon bears : " The first cause of 
 our discontent is regret that a horde of robbers, who have 
 insinuated themselves into the confidence of the nation, 
 should deprive us of our honour. These men enter the chief 
 houses of Rome, give themselves out for persons authorized 
 to receive contributions, carry off all the gold, jewels, and 
 horses — in a word, every article of value they can find, with- 
 out giving any receipts. This conduct, if it remains unpun- 
 ished, is calculated to bring eternal disgrace on the French 
 nation in the eyes of the whole universe. We could fumis'tk 
 a thousand proofs of these assertions. The second cause is 
 the misery in which both officers and men are involved ; des- 
 titute of pay for five m(mths ; in want of everj'thing. The 
 excessive luxury of the officers of the staff affords a painful 
 contrast to the naked condition of the general body of the 
 army. The third cause of the general discontent is the ar- 
 rival of General Massena. The soldiers have not forgot the 
 extortions and robberies he has committed wherever he has 
 been invested with the command. The Venitian territory, 
 and, above all, Padua, is a district teeming with jiroofs of 
 his immorality."* In an address to Berthier from the offi- 
 cers of the army, the expressions are still more strong : 
 " The soldiers are in the utmost misery for want of pay. 
 Many millions are in the public chest ; three would dis- 
 charge their arrears. We disavovv in the sight of Heaven, 
 in whose temple we are assembled, the crimes committed in 
 the city of Rome and the Ecclesiastical States ; we swear 
 that we will no longer be the instruments of the wretches 
 who have perpetrated them. We insist that the effects 
 seized from various individuals, belonging to states with 
 whom we are still at peace, be restored ; and, independent 
 of our pay, we persist in demanding justice upon the official 
 
 * Bud. T., bis. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 547 
 
 The Roman populace, encouracfed by these 
 Revolt of the clisseiisions among tdeir oppressors, 
 Komaii pupu- deemed the opportunity fav^ourable 
 lace ; its rapid to shake off the yoke and recover 
 suppression, their independence. But they soon 
 found that it is easier to invite an enemy within 
 your walls than expel him when the gates are 
 placed in his hands. The assemblages in Rome 
 were soon dispersed with great slaughter by 
 General D'AUemagne ; and, collecting a few 
 troops, he moved rapidly to Velletri and Castel 
 Gandolfo, routed the insurgents who had occu- 
 pied these posts, and struck such a terror into the 
 inhabitants, that they quickly threw aside their 
 arms, and abandoned all thoughts of farther re- 
 sistance.* 
 
 Meanwhile the work of revolution proceeded 
 The whole pa- rapidly in the Ronaan states. The 
 pal states are whole ancient institutions were sub- 
 "™'"'i?"' verted ; the executive made to con- 
 ConstitutToii, ^'^'' °^ fi^^ consuls, after the model 
 and alliance ' of the French Directory ; heavy con- 
 ■with France, tributions and forced loans exacted 
 from the wealthier classes ; the legislative power 
 vested in two chambers, chosen by the lowest 
 ranks, and the state divided into eight depart- 
 ments. But, to preserve the entire dependance 
 of this government on the French Directory, it 
 was specially provided that an alliance, offensive 
 and defensive, should immediately be concluded 
 between the French and Roman republics; that 
 no laws made by the Roman legislative bodies 
 should either be promulgated or have force with- 
 out the approval of the French general stationed 
 at Rome ; and that he might, of his own author- 
 ity, enact such laws as might appear necessary, 
 or were ordered by the French Director}'. At 
 the same time, edicts were published, prohibiting 
 the nobles, under severe penalties, from dismiss- 
 ing any of their domestics, or discontinuing any 
 of their charitable donations, on account of the 
 diminished or ruined state of their fortunes.t 
 
 While the Roman states were thus undergoing 
 Violent revo- fusion in the Revolutionary cruci- 
 lutions effect- ble, the Constitution of the Cisalpine 
 ed by the Republic disappeared as rapidly as it 
 c[salpinErRe^ had been formed. Towards the end 
 public. 29th of March, a treaty was concluded at 
 March, 1798. Paris between the French Republic 
 
 and elevated monsters, plunged night and day in luxury and 
 debauchery, who have committed the robberies and spoliations 
 in Rome."— Sec St. Cyr, Hist. Mil, i., 282. 
 
 A singular occurrence took place at the revolt in Mantua, 
 highly characteristic of the composition of the French army 
 in Italy at this period. The chief of the twelfth demi-bri- 
 gade, when endeavouring, sword in hand, to defend the 
 standard with which he was intrusted, killed one of the 
 grenadiers. His fellow-soldiers immediately exclaimed, 
 "We will not revenge our comrade; you are only doing 
 your duty." The chief of the fourteenth wishing, for the 
 same reason, to resist the mutineers, they unscrewed their 
 bayonets from their guns to prevent his being injured in the 
 strife which ensued for its seizure. Not a single officer was 
 insulted or maltreated ; the battalions answered by unani- 
 mous refusals all the exhortations of their officers to return 
 to their duty, but the sentinels saluted the officers when 
 they passed, as if in a state of the most perfect subordina- 
 tion. No acts of pillage followed the raising the standard 
 of revolt, though the shops where it broke out were all open 
 and unguarded. The soldiers were equally, as their breth- 
 ren at Rome, loud in their condemnation of the officers and 
 civil authorities, who had " embezzled all the funds which 
 should have gone to the payment of their arrears." In the 
 midst of so much revolutionary profligacy and corruption, it 
 is pleasing to have to record traits so honourable to the 
 French army. — See Baraguat D'IIii.liers' Report, IQth 
 Feb., \'98--Corresp. Confid., iv., 517. 525. 
 
 ♦ Hard., v., 267, 270. Jom., x., 338. Ann. Reg., 1798, 
 65. Bot., ii.,470, 471. St. Cyr, i., 39, 48. 
 
 1 Hard., v., 263, 275. Bot., ii., 474, 475. Ann. Reg., 
 1798, 06. ° ' 
 
 and its infant offspring, by which it was stipu- 
 lated that the Cisalpine should receive a French 
 garrison of 22,000 mfaniry and 2500 cavalry, to 
 be paid and clothed while there by the Italian 
 Republic; and that, in case of war, they should 
 mutually assist each other with all their forces. 
 This treaty, which placed its resources entirely 
 at the disposal of France, was highly unpopular 
 in the whole Republic, and it was not without the 
 utmost difficulty, and by the aid both of threats 
 of arresting a large portion of their members, 
 and unbounded promises in case of compliance' 
 that the councils could be brought to ratify it! 
 The Democratic spirit extended greatly in the 
 country. Those chosen to the principal offices 
 of government were all men of the most violent 
 temperament, and a conspiracy was generally 
 formed to emancipate themselves from French 
 thraldom, and establish, instead of a Gallic yoke, 
 real freedom. To curb this dangerous disposi- 
 tion, the Directory sent Trouve, a man of a de- 
 termined character, to Milan, and his first care 
 was to suppress, by measures of severity, the 
 spirit of freedom which threatened to thwart the 
 ambitious projects of the French government. 
 With this view, the constitution of 
 the Republic was violently changed ^^^' ^^' '^^®' 
 by the transalpine forces ; the number of depu- 
 ties was reduced from 240 to 120, and those only 
 retained who were known to be devoted to the 
 French government. After this violent revolu- 
 tion, Trouve, who was detested throughout all 
 Lombardy, was recalled, and Brune and Fouche 
 were successively sent in his stead; but all their 
 efforts proved ineffectual to stem the torrent. 
 The discontents went on continually increasing, 
 and at length recourse was openly had to mili- 
 tary force. On the morning of the Gth 
 of December, the Legislative Body ^' ^"^*" 
 was surrounded with foreign bayonets; the sena- 
 tors opposed to the French interest expelled; 
 several members of the Directory changed, and 
 the government prostrated, as in France and 
 Holland, by a military despotism. The Demo- 
 cratic Constitution, established by Napoleon, was 
 immediately annulled, and a new one established 
 under the dictation of the French ambassador, ia 
 the formation of which no attention was paid to 
 the liberties or wishes of the people.* 
 
 These violent changes, introduced by the mere 
 force of military power, occasioned e • i- 
 the utmost discontent in the Cisal- content exci-** 
 pine Republic, and contributed, more ted by these 
 than anything that had yet occurred, cnanges in 
 to cool the ardour of the Italian rev- Lombardy. 
 olutionists. " This, then," it was said, "is the 
 faith, the fraternity, and the friendship which you 
 have brought to us from France. This is the 
 liberty, the pro.sperity, which you boast of hav- 
 ing established in Italy! What vast materials 
 for eloquence do you afford to those who have 
 never trusted in your promises ! They will say- 
 that you never promised liberty to the Italians 
 but in order that you might be the better enabled 
 to plunder and oppress them ; that under every 
 project of reform were concealed new, and stiil 
 more grievous chains ; that gold, not freedom, is 
 your idol ; that that fountain of everything noble 
 or generous is not made for you, nor you for it ; 
 finally, that the liberty of France consists entire- 
 ly in words and speeches — in the howling of a 
 frantic tribune, and the declamations of impu- 
 
 * Bot., iii., 45, 58. Lac., iit., 172. Th., j.., 175, 177. 
 Jom., X., 364,365. 
 
5J8 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 dent sophists. These changes, which, with your 
 despotic power and so much unconcern, you have 
 effected in the Cisalpine governments, will as- 
 suredly prove the forerunner of the fall of your 
 own republic."*t 
 
 While Lombardy was thus writhing under the 
 Thespoliatioa withering grasp of the French Re- 
 of the King of public, the Kmg 01 bardmia was 
 Sardinia is re- undergoing the last acts of humilia- 
 solved on. {Jqq from lii.s merciless allies. The 
 early peace which this monarch had concluded 
 with their victorious general, the fidelity with 
 Avhich he had discharged his engagements, the 
 firm support which the possession of his for- 
 tresses had given to their arms, were unable to 
 save him from spoliation. The Directory per- 
 sisted in believing that a rickety republic, torn 
 by intestine divisions, would be a more solid 
 support to their power than a king who had de- 
 voted his last soldier and his last gun to their ser- 
 vice.t They soon found an excuse for subject- 
 ing him finally to their power, and rewarding 
 him for his faithful adherence to their cause 
 by the forfeiture of all his continental domin- 
 ions. 
 After the unworthy descendant of Emmanuel 
 
 „ ,, , Victor had opened the gates of Italy 
 Cruel humilia- ^ „ i_^ ^l ^ » i • c 
 
 tious to which to France by the ratal cession of 
 ie had previ- the Piedmontesc fortresses, § his life 
 ously been sub- had been a continual scene of mor- 
 jected. tification and humiliations. His 
 
 territories were traversed in every direction by 
 French columns, of whose approach he received 
 no notification except a statement of the sup- 
 plies required by them, which he was obliged to 
 furnish gratuitously to the Republican commis- 
 saries. He was compelled to banish all the 
 emigrants from his dominions, and oppress his 
 subjects by enormous contributions for the use 
 of his insatiable allies ; while the language of 
 the Revolutionary clubs, openly patronised by 
 the French ambassador and agents, daily became 
 more menacing to the regal government. At 
 length they threw off the mask. The insurgents 
 of the valleys of the Tanaro and the Bormida 
 assembled to the number of six thousand in the 
 neighbourhood of Carrosio, supported by two 
 thousand troops of the Ligurian Republic, who 
 left Genoa at midday, with drums beating and 
 the tricolour flag flying. Ginguene, the French 
 ambassador, endeavoured to persuade the king, 
 in the usual language of the Revolutionists, that 
 there was no danger in conceding all the de- 
 mands of the insurgents, but great in opposing 
 any resistance to their wishes; and strongly 
 urged the necessity, as a measure of security, 
 of his placing the citadel of Turin in the hands 
 
 '' Bnt., ii., 53. Th.,x., 177, 178. 
 
 t Lucien Bonaparte did not hesitate, at Milan, to give 
 vent to the same sentiments. "Nothing," said he, "can 
 excuse the bad faith which has characterized these trans- 
 actions. The innovations in the Cisalpine Republic, tend- 
 ing, as they do, to abridge popular freedom by the excessive 
 power they confer upon the Directory, especially the exclu- 
 sive right of proposing laws, are worthy of eternal condem- 
 nation. Nations, disgusted at last with the vain and empty 
 name of liberty which France is continually resounding in 
 their ears, and with the constitutions given to them one day 
 only to be taken away the next, will finally conceive a well- 
 founded detestation of the RepuWic, and prefer their former 
 gubiiiission to a sovereign." — BOTTA, ii., 53. 
 
 4 .Tom., X., 365. 
 
 t) The magnitude of the obligation thus conferred by 
 Piedmont on Fr.ince was fully a^lmitted by the Directory. 
 '■ Never," said they, on congratulating Charles Emmanuel 
 on his accession to the throne, " never will France forget 
 the obligations which she owes to the Prince of Piedmont." 
 — Hard , vii., 72. 
 
 of a French garrison ; while the Ligurian Re- 
 public resoluiel}'^ refused any passage for the 
 Piedmontese troops through that part of their 
 territories which required to be passed belore the 
 insulated district of Carrosio could be reached. 
 
 This was soon followed by a me- . ,„,-„„ 
 , .• . 1 -^ 1 ,1 June 10, 1798. 
 
 nacing proclamation, m which they ' 
 
 declared their resolution to support the insur- 
 gents to the utmost of their power; while the 
 French ambassador continued to insist for a 
 complete pardon of these rebels, on condition of 
 their laying down their arms, and, above all, the 
 immediate surrender of the citadel of Turin. 
 When the troops of Piedmont approached the 
 Ligurian territory to attack the rebels in Carro- 
 sio, the French ambassador forbade them to pass 
 the frontier, lest thej^ should violate the neutrali- 
 ty of the allied Republic. Notwithstanding this, 
 thev came up with the united forces _ , , . 
 
 ,. -, . ^ , ^ , Successful in- 
 
 01 the insurgents and Genoese, and tngues of the 
 defeated them in two engagements. Republicans, 
 with such loss that it was evident "'ho get hold 
 their total overthrow was at hand. "* Turin. 
 The Directory now threw off the mask; they 
 pretended that a conspirac}^ had been discovered 
 for renewing the Sicilian Vespers with all the 
 French in Piedmont, and, as a test of the king 
 not being involved in the design, insisted on the 
 immediate cession of the citadel of Turin. 
 Pressed on all sides, threatened with insurrec- 
 tion in his own dominions, and menaced with 
 the whole weight of Republican vengeance, the 
 king at length submitted to their de- , „_ ,_„„ 
 mands ; and that admirable fortress, ' 
 
 the mastei'piece of Vauban, which had stood, a 
 century belore, the famous siege which enabled 
 the Austrian forces, vmder Eugene, to advance 
 to its relief, and terminated in the expulsion of 
 the French from Ital}', was yielded without a 
 struggle to their arms.* 
 
 The surrender of this impregnable fortress put 
 the King of Sardinia entirely at the The king is 
 mercy of the French troops. He was reduced^to 
 no longer permitted the semblance ^ prisoner, 
 even of regal authority ; French guards attend- 
 ed him on all occasions, and, under the sem- 
 blance of respect, kept him a state prisoner in 
 his own palace ; while the ambassadors of the 
 other powers, deeming Piedmont now a French 
 province, wrote to their respective sovereigns 
 requesting to be recalled from Turin, where the 
 French ambassador was now the real sovereign. 
 The Republican generals improved the time to 
 reduce the unhappy monarch to despair. They 
 loaded all his ministers, civil and military, with 
 accusations, and insisted on their dismissal from 
 his court and capital ; forced him to abandon all 
 proceedings against the insurgents of every de- 
 scription; new-modelled the government accord- 
 ing to their Republican ideas, and compelled him 
 to deliver up all the places he had taken from the 
 Genoese Republic. t 
 
 For a few months this shadow of authority 
 was left to the king ; but at length jj^ j^ ^j ien<rth 
 his complete dethronement was forced to abdi- 
 effected. He was charged with hav- cate, .md retire 
 ing, in his secret correspondence '° Sardma. 
 with Vienna, allowed a wish to escape him that 
 he might soon be delivered from his imperious 
 allies, and only made his peace with the Direc- 
 tory by the immediate payment of 8,000,000 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 179S, 121, 122. Bot., iii., 63, 105. Lac., 
 liv., 174, 175. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1793, 122. Bot., iii., 112, 115. Lac, xiT., 
 177. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 549 
 
 francs, or X350,000. When the Roman Repub- 
 lic was inv^aded by the Neapolitans, he was or- 
 dered to furnish the stipulated contingent of eight 
 thousand men; and this was agreed to. The 
 surrender of the royal arsenals was 
 Dec. 8. 1/9S. ^^^^ demanded; and during the dis- 
 cussion of that demand, the French, under Jou- 
 bert, treacherously commenced hostilities.* No- 
 varra, Suza, Coni, and Alexandria were sur- 
 prised; a few battalions who attempted to resist 
 were driv^en into Turin, where the king, having 
 drained the cup of misery to the dregs, was com- 
 pelled to resign all his continental dominions, 
 which were immediately taken possession of by 
 the French authorities. A fugitive from his 
 capital, the ill-fated monarch left his palace by 
 torchlight during the night, and owed his sale 
 retreat to the island of Sardinia to the generous 
 efforts of Talleyrand, then ambassador at Turin, 
 who protected him from the dangers which threat- 
 ened his life. A provisional government was 
 immediately established in Turin, composed of 
 twenty-five of the most violent of the Democratic 
 party, while Grouchy seized hold of the treasury, 
 arsenals, and fortresses of the kingdom, and pub- 
 lished a proclamation, denouncing the pain of 
 
 * Recovering^, in the last extremity, a portion of the cour- 
 age which, if earher exerted, might have averted their fate, 
 the Piedmoutese cabinet at this crisis prepared a manifesto, 
 which the Directory instantly and carefully suppressed. It 
 bore ; " The Piedmontese government, in the anxious wish 
 of sparing its subjects the misfortunes which threatened it, 
 has acceded to all the demands of the French Republic, 
 both m contributions, clothing, and supplies for the army 
 of Italy, though greatly exceeding the engagements which 
 it had contracted, and which were so burdensome as entire- 
 ly to exhaust the royal treasury. His majesty has even 
 gone so far as to agree to place in their hands the citadel of 
 Turin ; and the very day on which it was demanded, he 
 gave orders for the furnishing of the contingent stipulated 
 by the treaty. At the same moment, he despatched a mes- 
 senger to Pans to negotiate concerning other demands, 
 ■which were inadmissible — in particular, the surrender of all 
 the arsenals. Bat in the midst of these measures, the com- 
 mander of the French garrison in the citadel of Turin vio- 
 lently seized possession of the towns of Novarra, Alexandria, 
 Chivasso, and Suza. llis majesty, profoundly afflicted at 
 these events, feels it his duty to declare thus publicly that 
 he has faithfully performed all his engagements to France, 
 and given no provocation whatever to the disastrous events 
 "which threaten his kingdom." Grouchy, the French gen- 
 eral, forced the king to suppress this proclamation, threat- 
 ening to bombard him in his own palace in case of refusal.* 
 The unworthy intrigues, falsehoods, and menaces by which 
 the resignation of the throne was forced upon the king, are 
 thus detailed by the same general in his secret report to the 
 Directory : " The moment had now arrived when all the 
 springs which 1 had prepared were to be put in motion. At 
 this crisis, an envoy came to me from the king ; he was a 
 man to be gained, and was so ; other persons were also cor- 
 rupted, but the great difficulty was, that these propositions 
 all emanated from the king, and that no writing reached 
 me, so that in no event could I be disavowed. Circumspec- 
 tion was the more necessary, as war was not yet declared 
 against the King of Sardinia, and it was necessary to act so 
 that his resignation might appear to be voluntary. 1 con- 
 fined myself to threatening tlie envoy, and sent him out of 
 the citadel. Meanwhile, my secret agents were incessantly 
 at work ; the envoy returned to me ; I announced the arrival 
 of columns which had not yet come up, and informed him that 
 the hour of vengeance had arrived, that Turin was sur- 
 rounded on all sides, that escape was impossible, and that 
 unqualified submission alone remained. The Council of 
 State had sat all the morning ; my hidden emissaries there 
 had carried their point. The conditions 1 exacted were 
 agreed to. I insisted, as an indispensable preliminary, that 
 all the Piedmontese troops which had been assembled in 
 Turin for a mouth past should be dismissed ; in presence of 
 Clausel, the king signed the order, and after eight hours of 
 farther altercation, the same officer compelled him to sign 
 the whole articles which I had required."— See Hard., vil., 
 118, 120. See also the Resignation, correctly given in Hard., 
 vii., 122, et seq. The French general made the king dis- 
 avow the proclamation already quoted, of which some copies 
 had been printed. 
 
 ' Hard., »ii., 117. 
 
 death against whoever had a pound of powder or 
 a gun in his possession, and declaring that any 
 nobles who might engage in an insurrection 
 should be arrested, sent to France, and have half 
 their goods confiscated.* 
 
 While these events were in progress in the 
 north of Italy, war had arisen and a 
 kingdom been overthrown in the south ^"'''1" °^ 
 of the peninsula. Naples, placed on ^'^^^''^- , 
 the edge of the revolutionary volcano since the 
 erection of the States of the Church into a separate 
 republic, had viewed with the utmost alarm the 
 progress of the Democratic spirit in its dominions • 
 and on the occupation of Rome by the French 
 troops, thirty thousand men were stationed in the 
 mountain passes on the frontier, in the belief 
 that an immediate invasion was intended. These 
 apprehensions were not diminished by the ap- 
 pearance of the expedition to Egypt in the Medi- 
 terranean, the capture of Malta, and tlie vicinity 
 of so large a force to the coasts of Naples. Right- 
 ly judging, from the fate of the other states in 
 Italy, that their destruction was unavoidable, 
 either from internal revolution or external vio- 
 lence, if measures were not taken to avert the 
 danger, the Neapolitan cabinet augmented their 
 military establishment, and secretly entered into 
 negotiations with Austria, whose disposition to 
 put a stop to the farther encroachments of France 
 was obvious from their occupation of the Grisons, 
 for the purpose of concerting measures for their 
 common defence. The French ambassador, 
 Garat, a well-known Republican, in vain en- 
 deavoured to allay their apprehensions, but, at 
 the same time, smiled at the feeble military force 
 with which they hoped to arrest the conquerors 
 of Areola and Rivoli.t 
 
 Considered merely with reference to the num- 
 ber and equipment of its forces, the 
 Neapolitan monarchy was by no Their military 
 means to be despised, and was ca- P''^P^''^''°"«- • 
 pable, apparently, of interfering with decisive 
 effect in the approaching struggle between 
 France and Austria in the Italian peninsula. 
 Its infantr}^ consisted of thirty thousand regular 
 soldiers and fifteen thousand militia; the artille- 
 ry, organized by French officers, was on the best 
 possible footing ; and the cavalry had givea 
 proof of its efficiency in the actions on the Po, ia 
 the commencement of the campaign of 1796. 
 Forty thousand men were ordered to be added to 
 the army, to carry it to the war establishment, 
 and the militia to be quadrupled. But these en- 
 ergetic measures were never carried into full ex- 
 ecution; notwithstanding the imposition ofhea\y 
 taxes, and liberal donations from the nobility 
 and clergy, insurmountable difficulties were ex- 
 perienced in the levying and equipping so large 
 a body of troops ; and the effective forces of the 
 monarchy never exceeded sixty thousand men, 
 of which one third were required to garrison the 
 fortresses on the frontier. These troops, such, 
 as they were, appeared deficient in military- 
 spirit ; the officers, appointed by court intrigue, 
 had lost all the confidence of the soldiers ; and 
 the discipline, alternately carried on on the Ger- 
 man and Spanish systems, was in the most de- 
 plorable state. To crown the whole, the com- 
 mon men, especially in the infantry, were desti- 
 tute of courage : a singular circumstance in the 
 descendants of the Samnites, but which has in- 
 
 * Hard., vii., 126, 128. 
 179. Bott., 111., 120. 137. 
 
 t Jom., li., 33, 34. Lac, xiv., 165 
 1798, 125. 
 
 Jom., ii., 59. Lac, liv., 178, 
 166. Attn. Reg., 
 
550 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 variably been the disgrace of the Neapolitan 
 army since the fall of the Roman Empire.* 
 The French commenced their revolutionary 
 measures in Naples bv requiring the 
 Intrigues of j,n,nediatc liberation of all those of 
 the trench. , „ ■ . i 
 
 the Democratic party who were con- 
 fined for political offences ; and though this de- 
 mand was highly obnoxious to the court, yet 
 such was the terror inspired by the French arms 
 that they were obliged to comply. Meanwhile, 
 intrigues of every kind were set on foot by the 
 French agents in the Neapolitan territories ; the 
 insolence of their ambassador knew no bounds ; 
 the grossest libels were daily published in the 
 Roman papers, under the direction of the French 
 generals, against the queen and the royal fami- 
 ly ;+ and a general military survey made of the 
 ^Neapolitan frontiers, and transmitted to the Di- 
 rectory at Paris. 
 
 During these revolutionary measures, how- 
 The court eu- ^^'^^' ^'^^ French were daily aug- 
 ters into se- menting their forces at Rome, and 
 cret engage- making preparations for offensive 
 ments with operations ; and the cabinet of Na- 
 Auitna. pjgg ^^,^j, warned not to put any re- 
 
 liance on so distant a power as Austria, as the 
 French in the Ecclesiastical States would be ade- 
 quate to the conquest of Naples before the impe- 
 rial troops could pass the Po. But the court 
 Tvere firm; the militar}^ preparations were con- 
 tinued with unabated vigour, and a treaty, ofien- 
 sive and defensive, was concluded with 
 Aug. 10. ji^g emperor, by which the King of Na- 
 ples was to be assisted, in the event of an inva- 
 sion, by a powerful army of Austrians. It was 
 no part of the first design of the Neapolitans to 
 commence hostiihies, but to wait till the Repub- 
 licans were fully engaged with the Imperialists 
 on the Adige, when it was thought their forces 
 might act with effect in the centre of the penin- 
 sula. j 
 
 Matters were in this inflammable state in the 
 Au 20 1799 kingdom of Naples when the intelli- 
 And are' en- ' gence arrived of the glorious victorj' 
 coTiraged to of the Nile, and the total destruction 
 resist by the gf the French fleet on the shores of 
 Wie of the Egypt. The eflect produced over 
 all Europe, but especially in Italy, 
 by this great event, was truly electrical. It was 
 the first decisive defeat which the French had 
 experienced since the rise of the Republic ; it 
 annihilated their naval power in the Mediterra- 
 nean, left Malta to its fate, and, above all, seem- 
 ed to banish Napoleon and his victorious troops 
 forever from the scene of European warfare. 
 The language of humiliation and despondency 
 was everj'^where laid aside ; loud complaints of 
 the perfidy and extortion of the French annies 
 became universal ; and a giddy multitude, who 
 had recently hailed their approach with tumult- 
 uous shouts of joy, taught by bitter experience, 
 now prepared to salute, with still louder accla- 
 mations, those who should deliver them from 
 their yoke.§ 
 
 The enthusiasm of Naples was already very 
 ^ TV- 1 ■, great, when the arrival of IS'elson 
 arrival at Na- With his Victorious fleet at that port 
 pies, they raised it to the highest possible pitch, 
 rashly resolve jjg was received with more than re- 
 ou hostauies. ^g, j^onours ; the king and the queen 
 
 * Jom., xi., 34. Ann. Reg., 1798, 124, 125. 
 t Hard., vii., 6, 8. 
 
 t .Tom., X., 36. Bot., iii., 142. Ann. Reg. 1798, 125, 126. 
 
 ♦ Jom., li., 36, 37. Ann. Reg., 1798, 126, 127. Th., x., 
 HI, 142. 
 
 went out to meet him in the bay; the immense 
 and ardent population of the capital rent the air 
 with their acclamations ; and the shores of Po- 
 silippo were thronged with crowds anxious to 
 catch a glance of the conqueror of the Nile. 
 The remonstrances of the French ambassador 
 were unable to restrain the universal joy; the 
 presence of the British admiral was deemed a 
 security against every danger — a signal for the 
 resurrection of the world against its oppressors. 
 In vain Ariola, and the more prudent counsellors 
 of the king, represented the extreme peril of at- 
 tacking, with their inexperienced forces, the vet- 
 erans of France before the Austrians were ready 
 to support them on the Adige ; these wise re- 
 monstrances were disregarded, and the war par- 
 ty, at the head of which were the queen and 
 Lady Hamilton, the wife of the English ambas- 
 sador, succeeded in producing a determination 
 for the immediate commencement of hostilities.* 
 Though irritated to the last degree at the deter- 
 mined stand which the King of Naples had made 
 against their revolutionary designs, and the 
 open joy his subjects had testified at their disas- 
 ters, the French were by no means desirous at 
 this time to engage in immediate warfare with a 
 new opponent. The battle of the Nile, and con- 
 sequent isolation of their bravest army and best 
 general, had greatly damped the arrogance of 
 their former presumption : their finances were in 
 an inextricable state of confusion ; the soldiers, 
 both at Rome and Mantua, had lately mutinied 
 from want of pay ; aad the forces of Austria, 
 supported, as it was foreseen they would be, by 
 those of Russia, were rapidly increasing both in 
 numbers and efficiency. In these circumstances, 
 it was their obvious policy to temporize, and de- 
 lay the overthrow of the Neapolitan monarchy 
 till the great levies they were making in France 
 were ready to take the field, and keep in check 
 the imperial forces on the Adige till the work of 
 revolution in the south of Italy was completed.t 
 Meanwhile the affiliated republics were called 
 on to take their full share of the bur- j-Qj.pg ]p,,jed 
 dens consequent upon their alliance by the French 
 with France. Every man in Swilz- in the afifilia- 
 erland capable of bearing anns, '■'^^ republics, 
 from sixteen to forty-five years of age, was put 
 in requisition; the King of Sardinia compelled 
 to advance 8,000,000 francs; the Cisalpine Re- 
 public assessed at a loan of 24,000,000 francs or 
 jEI, 000,000 sterling, and required to put its whole 
 contingent at the disposal of France ; and a fresh 
 contribution of 12,000,000 francs imposed on the 
 Roman territory, besides having assignats is-sued 
 on the security of ecclesiastical estates.: 
 
 Previous to the commencement of hostilities, 
 the Neapolitan government had re- Mack takes 
 quested the Austrians to send them the command 
 some general capable of directing the '" Naples. 
 movements of the large force which they had'in 
 readiness to take the field. The Aulic Council 
 sent General Mack, an officer who stood high at 
 Vienna in the estimation of military men, but 
 who, though .skilled in sketching out plans of a 
 campaign on paper, and posses.«ed of considera- 
 ble talent in strategetical design, was totally des- 
 titute of the penetration and decision requisite 
 for success in the field. Nelson at once saw 
 through his character. " Mack," said he, " can- 
 not travel without five carriages. I have form- 
 ed my opinion of him: would to God that I may 
 
 * Join., xi., 37. Ann. Reg.. 1798. 128. Th., x., 143, 144. 
 t ,Ioni., xi , 37. 38. Ann. Reg., 1798, 129. 
 t Ann. Reg., 1798, 128. Lac, iiv., 1G8. 
 
1793.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 651 
 
 be mistaken !" An opinion which, to the dis- 
 grace of Austria, was too literally vurilicd in the 
 events at Ulm, which have given a mournful 
 celebrity to his name.* 
 
 For long the Directory persisted in the belief 
 Dispersed sii- ^^^^^ '''^ Neapolitans would never 
 Maiioii of tiie venture to take the held till the Aus- 
 French troops, trian forces were ready to support 
 them, which it was known would not be the case 
 till the following .spring. They had done no- 
 thing, accordingly, towards concentrating their 
 troops ; and when there could no longer be any 
 doubt that war was about to commence, their 
 only resource was to send Championnet to take 
 the command of the array in the environs of 
 Rome. He tbund them dispersed 
 Nov. 20, / 8. ^ygj. ^ surface of sixty leagues. 
 Macdonald, with 6000, lay at Terracina, and 
 guarded the narrow defile betwixt its rocks and 
 the Mediterranean Sea ; Casa Bianca, with the 
 left wing, 5000 strong, occupied the reverse of the 
 Apennines towards Ancona; in the centre. Gen- 
 eral Lemoine, with 4000 men, was stationed at 
 Terni, and watched the central defiles of the 
 Apennines, while 5000 were in the neighbour- 
 hood of Rome. Thus 20,000 men were stretch- 
 ed across the peninsula from sea to sea, while 
 double that number of Neapolitans were concen- 
 trated in the environs of Capua, ready to separate 
 and overwhelm them. This was rendered the 
 more feasible, as the bulk of the Neapolitan forces 
 advanced in the Abruzzi had passed, by a con- 
 siderable distance, the Republicans at Rome and 
 Terracina. Circumstances never occurred more 
 favourable to a decisive stroke, had the Neapoli- 
 tan generals possessed capacity to undertake, or 
 their soldiers courage to execute it.t 
 
 Mack began his operations on the 23d of No- 
 Nov. 23 1793. vember; but, instead of profiting by 
 Mack com- the dispersion of the French force, to 
 ijieiiceshostil- throw an overwhelming mass upon 
 ities. (j^gjj. centre, detach and surround the 
 
 right wing and troops at Rome, which were so 
 far advanced as almost to invite his seizure, he 
 divided his forces into five columns, to enter the 
 Roman territory by as many difierent points of 
 attack. A corps of seven thousand infantry and 
 six hundred horse was destined to advance along 
 the shores of the Adriatic towards Ancona; two 
 thousand men were directed against Terni and 
 Foligno ; the main body, under Mack in person, 
 consisting of twenty thousand infantiy and four 
 thousand cavalry, was moved forward, through 
 the centre of the Peninsula, by Valmontone, on 
 Frescati, while eight thousand infantry and three 
 hundred cavalry advanced by Terracina and the 
 Pontine Marshes on Albano and Rome, and five 
 thousand men were embarKcd on board some of 
 Lord Nelson's ships, to be landed at Leghorn, and 
 effect a diversion in the rear of the enemy. t 
 
 The overwhelming force which was directed 
 TheNeapnl- against Frescati, and which threaten- 
 itans enter ed to separate the Republicans sta- 
 Rome. tioned there from the remainder of the 
 
 army, obliged Championnet to evacuate Rome 
 and concentrate his Ibrces at Terni, and the King 
 of Naples made his triumphal entry into that city 
 on the 29th. Such, however, was the state of 
 discipline of his troops, that they fell into confu- 
 sion merely from the fatigues of tlie march and 
 the severity of the rains, and arrived in as great 
 
 * Southey's Nelson, li., 19. Jom., li., 168. Hard., vii , 
 16. t Jom., xi., 38, 39, 40. Aim. Reg., 1798, 131. 
 
 t Hard., vii., 16, 19. Jom., xi., 40, 41. Lac, xiy., 169, 
 233. . > . 
 
 disorder at the termination of a few day.s' ad- 
 vance as if they had sustained a disastrous re- 
 treat. While Mack was reorgani- 
 zing his battalions at Rome, General ^°'- '■^'^' ''^^• 
 Lemoine succeeded in surrounding and making 
 prisoners the corps of two thousand men which 
 advanced against Terni, while Giustini, who 
 commanded another little column in the centre, 
 was driven over the mountains to the main body 
 on the banks of the Tiber. The corps which ad- 
 vanced against Ancona, after some trilling suc- 
 cess, was thrown back about the same time 
 within the Neapolitan frontier.* 
 
 These successes, and the accounts he received 
 of the disordered state of the main rj.^^ 
 body of the enemy's forces at Rome, erywUeredl- 
 encouraged Championnet to keep his feated wheu 
 ground on the southern slope of the advancing 
 Apennines. Stationing, therefore, *^^'^'^*''- 
 Macdonald, with a large force, at Civita Cas- 
 tellana, the ancient Veil, a city surrounded by 
 inaccessible precipices, he hastened himself 
 to Ancona to accelerate the formation of the 
 parks of artilleiy, and the organization of the re- 
 serves of the army. This distribution of his 
 Ibrces exposed the troops of Civita Castellana to 
 the risk of being cut oS'by an irruption, in force, 
 of the enemy upon the line of their retreat at 
 Terni ; but the Republicans had not to contend 
 either with the genius or the troops of Napoleon. 
 Mack, persisting in the system of dividing his 
 forces, exposed them to defeat from the veterans 
 of France at every point of attack, and, in truth, 
 their character was such that by no possible ex- 
 ertions could they be brought to face the enemy. 
 One of his columns, commanded by the Cheva- 
 lier Saxe, destined to turn Civita Castellana on. 
 the left, was attacked at the Bridge of Borghetto, 
 over the Tiber, by Kniazwitz, at the head of three 
 thousand of the Polish legion, and totally defeat- 
 ed, with the loss of all its artillery. Tiie other, 
 intended to turn it on the right, encountered the 
 advanced guard of Macdonald near Nepi, and 
 was speedily routed, with the loss of two thou- 
 sand prisoners, all its baggage, and fifteen pieces 
 of artillery. In the centre. Marshal 
 Bourcard in vain endeavoured to force ^'^'"" ^' ^'^^' 
 the Bridge of Rome, thrown over the chasm on 
 the southern side of Civita Castellana ; and at 
 length Mack, finding both his wings defeated, 
 withdrew his forces, and began to meditate a new 
 design to dislodge his antagonists from their for- 
 midable position.! 
 
 Instructed by this disaster, both in regard to 
 the miserable quality of his own Fresh disas- 
 troops and the ruinous selection he tersofthe 
 had made of the point of attack, Neapolitans. 
 Mack resolved upon a difierent disposition of 
 his forces. Leaving, therefore, Marshal Bour- 
 card, with four thousand men, in front of Civita 
 Castellana, he transported the main body of his 
 army to the other bank of the Tiber, with the de- 
 sign of overwhelming Lemoine in the central 
 and important position of Terni. This move- 
 ment, which, if rapidly executed with steady 
 troops, might have been attended with decisive 
 success, became, from the slowness with which 
 it was performed, and the wretched quality of 
 the soldiers to whom it was intrusted, the source 
 of irreparable disasters. General Metch, 
 who commanded his advanced guard, 
 five thousand strong, having descended from the 
 mountains and surprised Otricoli, was soon as- 
 
 * Jom., xi., 45, 46. Ann. Re?., 1798, 129. Hard., v., 
 17, 18. t Th., X., 194, 195, 196. Jom., xi., 48, 50 
 
552 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 sailed there by General Mathieu and driven 
 back to Calvi, where he was thrown into such 
 consternation by the arrival of Kniazwitz on his 
 flank with fifteen hundred men, that he laid 
 down his arms with four thousand men,* though 
 both the attacking columns did not exceed three 
 thousand tive hundred. 
 After this check, accompanied with such dis- 
 graceful conduct on the part of the 
 MaSt^*^ °^ troops. Mack despaired of success, and 
 instantly commenced his retreat to- 
 wards the Neapolitan frontier. The King of 
 Naples hastily left Rome in the night, and fled in 
 the utmost alarm to his o^^^l capital, while Mack 
 retired with all his forces, abandoning the Eccle- 
 siastical States to their fate. Championnetvig- 
 orously pursued the retiring column ; the 
 Dec. 12. pj-gjjgjj troops entered Rome ; and Gen- 
 eral Damas, cut off with three thousand men 
 from the main body, and driven to Orbitello, 
 concluded a convention with Kellerman, by 
 which it was agreed that they should evacuate the 
 Tuscan States without being considered as pris- 
 oners of war. Sev^enteen days after the opening 
 of the campaign, the Neapolitan troops were ex- 
 pelled at all points from the ecclesiastical terri- 
 tory ; Rome was again in the hands of the Re- 
 publicans ; eighteen thousand veterans had driv- 
 en before them forty thousand men, splendidly 
 di'essed and abundantly equipped, but destitute 
 of all the discipline and courage requisite to ob- 
 tain success in war.t 
 
 Such was the terror inspired by these disas- 
 T^T, V V ters, that the court of Naples did 
 tan court take not conceive themselves m salety 
 
 never more clearly evinced than in the resistance- 
 which he made to the tempting offers made to- 
 him in his first campaign for the conquest of 
 Rome ; and the wisdom of his resolution was 
 soon manifested by the disastrous effects which 
 followed the extension of the French forces into- 
 the extremity of Naples, when they had the 
 whole weight of Austria to expect on the 
 Adige.* 
 
 Untaught by the ruinous consequences of an 
 undue dispersion of force by the Aus- 
 trian commander, Championnet fell in- ^eraUons 
 to precisely the same error in the inva- 
 sion of Naples. He had at his disposal, after de- 
 ducting the garrisons of Rome and Ancona, 
 twenty-one thousand infantr)- and two thousand 
 cavalry, having received considerable re-enforce- 
 ments from the north of Italy since the contest 
 commenced. This force he divided into five 
 columns : on the extreme right, Rey, with two 
 thousand five hundred infantry and eight hun- 
 dred cavalry, was ordered to advance by the 
 Pontine Marshes to Terracina, while Macdon- 
 ald, with seven thousand foot and three hundred 
 horse, pushed forward to Ciprano ; Lemoine, 
 with foru' thousand infantrj' and two hundred 
 cavalry, was directed to move upon Sulmona; 
 while seven thousand infantr}' and two hundred 
 horse, under Duhesme, ascended the course of 
 the Pescara to Popoli, where they were to effect 
 their junction with the division of Lemoine. 
 The object of these complicated movements was 
 to assemble a formidable force in front of Capua, 
 and along the stream of the Voltumus ; but the 
 difficulty of uniting the diflerent columns after a 
 long march in a mountainous and rugged coun- 
 
 lefuge on even in their own capital. On the 
 board the En- g^gt of December, the royal family, ' try was so great, that, had they been opposed by 
 glish fleet. (luj-ing the night, withdrew on board ] an enemy of skill and resolution, they would 
 Nelson's fleet and embarked for Sicily, taking have experienced the fate of Wurmser when he 
 with them the most valuable effects in the palace divided his army in presence of Napoleon on the 
 at Naples and Caserta, the chief curiosities in [ opposite sides of the Lake of Guarda.t 
 
 the museum of Portici, and above a million in 
 specie from the public treasury. The inhabi- 
 tants of the capital were throTvn into 
 Dec. 21, 1/98. ^j^^ utmost consternation when they 
 learned in the morning that the royal family and 
 ministers had all fled, leaving to them the bur- 
 den of maintaining a disastrous and ruinous con- 
 test with France. Nothing, of course, could be 
 expected from the citizens when the leaders of 
 the state had been the first to shov/ the example 
 of desertion. The revolutionary spirit immedi- 
 ately broke out in the Democratical part of the 
 community; rival authorities were constituted, 
 the dissensions of party paralyzed the efforts of 
 the few who were attached to their country, and 
 everything seemed to promise an easy victorj' to 
 the invaders.! 
 
 Meanwhile, Championnet was engaged in prep- 
 Championnet arations for the conquest of Naples ; 
 resolves to m- an object which, considered in a 
 vade Naples, military point of view, required lit- 
 tle more than vigour and capacity, but which, 
 
 Notwithstanding their perilous dispersion of 
 force, the invading army at all points 
 met with surprising success. On fuccess'?'"""^ 
 approaching the Neapolitan territo- 
 r)-, they found Mack posted with twenty-five 
 thousand men in a strong position behind the 
 Voltumus, stretching from Castella Mare to 
 Scafia di Cajazzo; having Capua, with its for- 
 midable ramparts, in the centre, and both its 
 wings covered by a numerous artillery. But no- 
 thing could induce the Neapolitan troops to 
 withstand the enemy. After a sharp skinnish, 
 their advanced guard abandoned the wooded 
 cliffs of Itri.fled through their almost impregna- 
 ble thickets to Gaeta, the strongest place in the 
 Neapolitan dominions, which surrendered with 
 its garrison, three thousand six hundred strong, 
 on Ihe first summons of General Rey, with aa 
 inferior force. The troops on the left, behind the 
 Voltumus, seized with an unaccountable panic, 
 at the same time abandoned their position and 
 artiller)', and fled for refuge under the cannon of 
 
 politically, could not fail to be highly injurious i Capua. Thither they were pursued in haste by 
 to the interests of France, by the demonstration it i Macdonald's division; but the catmon of the 
 would afford of the insatiable nature of the spirit I ramparts opened upon them so terrible a fire of 
 of propagandism by which its government was \ grapeshot, that they were repulsed with great 
 
 actuated, and the dispersion of its military force 
 over the vv'hole extent of the peninsula which it 
 would produce. The sagacity of Napoleon was 
 
 * Jom., xi., 32, 53. Th., x., 195, 196. Ann. Reg., 1798, 
 131. 
 
 t Th., x.,196, 197. Join., xi., 55,57. Bot.,iii., 141, 147. 
 
 t Jora.,ix-., 60, 61. Th., x., 199. Lac, xiv., 234. Bot., 
 iii., 154, 155. 
 
 slaughter ; and had the Neapolitan cavalry obey- 
 ed Mack's order to charge at that critical mo- 
 ment, that division of the French army would 
 have been totally destroyed.: 
 
 But, though the junction of the divisions of 
 
 * .Iom.,xi., 61. Hot., iii., 150. 
 
 t Jom., xi., 64, 65. Boc, iii., 150, 151. 
 
 i Join., xi., 65, 66. Bot., iii., 157. Th., x., 
 
 200. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 553-- 
 
 Jan. 6, 17 
 
 Cnt.cai situa- ^^^y and Macdonald, and the cap- 
 tion of Cham- ture ol Gaeta, gave Championnei a 
 pionnet in front solid footing on the great road from 
 of Capua. Rome to Naples, in front of the Vol- 
 
 turnus, his situation was daily becoming more 
 critical. For more than a week no intelligence 
 had been received from the other divisions of the 
 army.; the detachments sent out to gain intelli- 
 gence found all the mountain passes in the in- 
 terior of the Abruzzi choked up with snow, and 
 the villages in a state of insurrection ; Itri, Fon- 
 di, and ail the posts in the rear of the army, soon 
 lell into the hands of the peasants, who evinced 
 a courage which alforded a striking contrast to 
 the pusillanimity of the regular forces ; and the 
 victorious division was insulated in the midst of 
 its conquests. At the same time, the insurrec- 
 tion spread with the utmost rapidity in the whole 
 Terra di Lavoro ; a large assemblage of armed 
 peasants collected at Sessa, the bridge over the 
 Volturnus was broken down, and all the insula- 
 ted detachments of the army attacked 
 with a fury very different from the 
 languid operations of the regular forces. Had 
 Mack profited by his advantages, and made a 
 vigorous attack with his whole centre upon Mac- 
 donald's division, there is reason to think that, not- 
 withstanding the pusillanimity of his troops, he 
 might have forced them to a disastrous retreat.* 
 But the Austrian general had now lost all con- 
 Mack propo- fi'^ence in the forces under his com- 
 ses an armi- mand, and the vacillation of the 
 stice, which IS provisional government at Naples 
 glaiily accept- gave him no hopes of receiving sup- 
 * ■ port from the rear in the event of dis- 
 
 aster. An attempt against the mountains of Ca- 
 jazzo with a few battalions failed; Damas had 
 not yet arrived with the troops from Tuscany ; 
 of nine battalions, routed at the passage of the 
 Volturnus, none but the officers had entered Na- 
 ples, and he was aware that a powerful party, 
 having ramifications in his own camp, was de- 
 sirous to take advantage of the vicinity of the 
 French army to overturn the monarchy. Ren- 
 dered desperate by these imtoward circumstan- 
 ces, he resolved to make the most of the critical 
 situation of the invaders by proposing an armi- 
 stice. The situation of Championnet was be- 
 T 11 fQQ ^^^^^ ^° hazardous, from the failure 
 ' ' ' ofprovisions and the increasing bold- 
 ness of the insurgents, that the proposal was ac- 
 cepted with joy, and an armistice for two months 
 was agreed to, on condition that 2,500,000 francs 
 should be paid in fifteen days, and the fortresses 
 of Capua, Acerra, and Benevento delivered up 
 to the French forces. Thus, by the extraordina- 
 ry pusillanimity of the Italian troops, was the 
 French general delivered from a situation all but 
 hopeless, and an army, which ran the most im- 
 minent danger of passing through the Caudine 
 Forks, enabled to dictate a glorious peace to its 
 enemies. Shortly after the conclusion of the 
 convention,! Mack, disgusted with the conduct of 
 his soldiers, and finding that they were rapidly 
 melting away by desertion, resigned the com- 
 mand and retired to Naples. 
 
 The intelligence of this armistice excited the 
 utmost indignation among the populace of that 
 capital, whose inhabitants, like all others of 
 Greek descent, were extremely liable to vivid im- 
 pressions, and totally destitute of the information 
 
 * Jom., ix., 67, 70. 
 Hard.,vii., 133, 134. 
 
 t Bot., III., 158. 160. 
 Hard., vii., 134, 139. 
 
 Vol. I. — A a a a 
 
 Bot., li., 157, 158. 
 Jom., xi., 72, 73. 
 
 Th., 
 
 200. 
 
 Th., X., 200. 
 
 requisite to fonn a correct judgment inoiirnatiou 
 on the chance of success. The dis- wiuch it ex- 
 content was raised to the highest pitch cites among 
 by the arrival of the French commis- "'" Neapoh- 
 saries appointed to receive pay- '^" P"''"'^'^^- 
 ment of the first instalment of the contribution 
 stipulated by the convention. The popular in- 
 dignation was now worked up to a perfect fury; 
 the lazzaroni flew to arms; the regular troops 
 refused to act against the insurgents; the cry 
 arose that they had been betrayed by the viceroy, 
 the general, and the army ; and the people, as- 
 sembling in multitudes, exclaimed, " Long live 
 our holy faith ! long live the Neapolitan people !'' 
 In the midst of the general confusion, the vice- 
 roy and the provisional government fled to Sici- 
 ly ; for three days the city was a prey to all the 
 horrors of anarchy ; and the tumult was only ap- 
 peased by the appointment of Prince Molitemo 
 and the Duke of Bocca Romana as chiefs of the 
 insurrection, who engaged to give it a direction 
 that might save' the capital from the ruin with 
 which it was threatened.* 
 
 Meanwhile, the divisions in the Abruzzi hav- 
 ing fortunately efl-ected their June- Advance of the 
 tion with the main army on the Vol- French against 
 turnus, Championnet advanced in Naples, 
 three columns, with all his forces, towards Na- 
 ples, while Mack, whose life was equally threat- 
 ened by the furious lazzaroni and his own sol- 
 diers, sought safety in the French camp. Cham- 
 pionnet had the generosity to leave him his 
 sword, and treat him with the hospitality due to 
 his misfortunes : an admirable piece of courtesy, 
 which the Directory showed they were incapa- 
 ble of appreciating, by ordering him to be detain- 
 ed a prisoner of war. As the French army ap- 
 proached Naples, the fury of the parties at each, 
 other increased in violence, and the insurrection 
 of the lazzaroni assumed a more formidable 
 character. Distrusting all their leaders of rank 
 or property, whose weakness had, in truth, proved 
 that they were unworthy of confidence, they de- 
 posed Prince Molitemo and the Duke of Bocca 
 Romana, and elected two simple lazzaroni, Pag- 
 gio and Michel le Fou, to be their leaders. Al- 
 most all the shopkeepers and burghers, however, 
 being attached to Democratic principles, desired 
 a Revolutionary government, and to these were 
 now added nearly the whole class of proprietors, 
 who were j ustly afraid of general pillage if the un- 
 ruly defenders, to whom their fate was unhappily 
 intrusted, should prove successful. The quar- 
 ters of Championnet, in consequence, were be- 
 sieged by deputations from the more opulent cit- 
 izens, who offered to assist his forces in effecting 
 the reduction of the capital ; but the French gen- 
 eral, aware of the danger of engaging a desper- 
 ate population in the streets of a great city, refu- 
 sed to advance till Fort St. Elmo, which com- 
 mands the town, was put into the hands of the 
 partisans of the Republic. This assurance hav- 
 ing at length been given, he put all his forces ia 
 motion, and advanced in three columns against 
 the city. 
 
 At the same time, he issued a proclamation to 
 the Neapolitan people, in which he said, " Be 
 not alarmed, we are not your enemies. The 
 French punish unjust and haughty kings, but 
 they bear no arms against the people. Those 
 who show themselves friends of the Republic- 
 will be secured in their persons and propert}', and 
 experience only its protection. Disarm the per* 
 
 * Th., I., 201. Bot., iu., 160, 161. Jom., li., 74. 
 
554 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 fidious wretches who excite you to resistance. 
 You will change your government for one of a 
 Republican form: I am about to establish a pro- 
 visional government."* In etfect, a Revolution- 
 ary committee was immediately organized at the 
 French headquarters, having at its head Charles 
 Laubert, a furious Republican, and formerly one 
 of the warmest partisans of Robespierre. 
 
 But the lazzaroni of Naples, brave and enthusi- 
 Desperate re- astic, were not intimidated by his 
 sistance of the approach, and, though deserted by 
 lazzaroni. [heir king, their government, their 
 army, and their natural leaders, prepared with 
 undaunted resolution to defend their country. 
 Acting with inconceivable energy, they at once 
 drew the artillery from the arsenals to guard the 
 avenues to the city, commenced intrenchments 
 on the heights which commanded its different ap- 
 proaches, armed the ardent multitude with what- 
 ever weapons chance threw in their way, barri- 
 caded the principal streets, and stationed guards 
 at all the important points in its vast circumfer- 
 ence. The lew regular troops who had not de- 
 serted their colours were formed into a reserve, 
 consisting of four battalions and a brigade of 
 cannoniers. The zeal of the populace was in- 
 flamed by a nocturnal procession of the head and 
 blood of St. Januarius around the city, and the 
 enthusiastic multitude issued in crowds from the 
 gates to meet the conquerors of Italy.t 
 
 The combat which ensued was one of the most 
 Frightful com- extraordinary_ of the Revolution- 
 bats around the ary war, fruitful as it was in events 
 capital, 21st and of Unprecedented character. For 
 22d Jan., 1799. jhree days the battle lasted between 
 Aversa and Capua; on the one side, numbers, 
 resolution, and enthusiasm — on the other, disci- 
 pline, skill, and military experience. Often the 
 Republican ranks were broken by the impetuous 
 charges of their infuriated opponents ; but these 
 transient moments of success led to no lasting 
 result, from the want of any reserve to follow up 
 the advantage, and the disorder into which any 
 rapid advance threw the tumultuary ranks. Still 
 crowd after crowd succeeded. As the assailants 
 were swept down by volleys of grapeshot, new 
 multitudes rushed forward. The plain was cov- 
 ered with the dead and the dying; and the Re- 
 publicans, weary with the work of slaughter, 
 slept at night beside their guns, within pistol- 
 shot of their indomitable opponents. At length 
 the artillery and skill of the French prevailed ; 
 the Neapolitans were driven back into the city, 
 still resolved to defend it to the last extremitjM 
 
 A terrible combat ensued at the gate of Capua. 
 
 rx,, „ , The Swiss battalion, which, with 
 The French ^, , , ' . ' . 
 
 force the gates ^wo thousand lazzaroni, was m- 
 and forts ; trusted with the defence of that im- 
 bloody conflicts portant post, long resisted all the 
 m the streets, efforts of the Republicans. Two 
 attacks were repulsed with great slaughter, and 
 at length the chief of the staff, Thiebault, only 
 succeeded in making himself master of the en- 
 trance by feigning a retreat, and thus drawing 
 the inexperienced troops from their barricades 
 into the plain, where they were charged with the 
 bayonet by the French, who entered the gate pell- 
 mell with the fugitives. Still, however, they 
 made good their ground in the streets. The Re- 
 publicans found they could expel the besieged 
 
 « .Inm., xi.. 76, 79. Th., i., 202. Bot., iii., 162, 163. 
 Hard, vii., 139, 144. 149. 
 
 t .loni., xi., 79. Lac, xiv., 242. Bnt., iii., 162. 
 
 t Hot., i?i., 164. 165. Jom., xi., 79, 80. Lac, xiv., 242. 
 Hard., vii., 151, 153. 
 
 from their fastnesses only by burning down or 
 blowing up the edifices, and their advance 
 through the city was rendered almost impractica- 
 ble by the mountains of slain which choked up 
 the causey. But while this heroic resistance 
 was going on at the gates, a body of the citizens, 
 attached to the French party, made themselves 
 masters of the fort of St. Elmo and the Castello 
 del Uovo, and immediately sending intimation 
 to Championnet, a body of troops were moved 
 forward, and these important posts taken posses- 
 sion of by his soldiers. The lazzaroni shed tears 
 of despair when they beheld the tricolour flag 
 waving on the last strongholds of their city, but 
 still the resistance continued with unabated reso- 
 lution. Championnet, upon this, gave orders for 
 a general attack. Early on the morning of the 
 23d, the artillery from the castle of St. 
 Elmo showered down cannon-shot upon ^' 
 the city, and dense columns of infantry approach- 
 ed all the avenues to its principal quarters. Not- 
 withstanding the utmost resistance, they made 
 themselves masters of the Fort del Carmine; but 
 Kellerman was held in check by Paggio, near 
 the seraglio. The roofs of the houses were cov- 
 ered with armed men ; showers of balls, flaming 
 combustibles, and boiling water, fell from the 
 M'indows ; and all the other columns were repulsed 
 with great slaughter, when an accidental circum- 
 stance put an end to the strife, and gave the 
 French the entire command of Naples. Michel 
 le Fou, the lazzaroni leader, having been made 
 prisoner, was conducted to the headquarters of 
 the French general, and having been kindly 
 treated, offered to mediate between the contend- 
 ing parties. Peace was speedily established. 
 The French soldiers exclaimed, " Vive St. Janu- 
 aire !" the Neapolitans, " Vivent les Fran(;ais !" 
 a guard of honour was given to St. Januarius,* 
 and the populace, passing, with the characteristic 
 levity of their nation, from one extreme to an- 
 other, embraced the French soldiers with whom 
 they had so recently been engaged in mortal 
 strife. t 
 
 No sooner was the reduction of Naples effected 
 than the lazzaroni were disarmed. Establishment 
 the castles which command the city of the Parthe- 
 garrisoned by French troops, royal- noj)eian Re- 
 ty abolished, and a new Democratic ?"'''"=• 
 state, called the Parthcnflpcian Republic, proclaim- 
 ed in its stead. In the outset, a provisional gov- 
 ernment of twenty-one members was appointed. 
 Their first measure was to levy upon the ex- 
 hausted inhabitants of the capital a contribution 
 of 12,000,000 of francs, or i:500,000, and upon 
 the remainder of the kingdom one of 15,000,000 
 francs, or £620,000: burdens which were felt as 
 altogether overwhelming in that poor country, 
 and were rendered doubly oppressive by the un- 
 equal manner in which they were levied, and the 
 additional burden of feeding, clothing, lodging, 
 and paying the troops, to which they were at the 
 same time subjected. Shortly after, there arrived 
 Faypoult, the commissary of the convention, 
 who instantly sequestrated the whole royal prop- 
 erty, all the estates of the monasteries, the whole 
 
 * Hot., iii., 166, 169. Jom., xi., 84, 85. Lac., xiv., 243, 
 244. Hard., vii., 159, 175. 
 
 t The most contumelious proclamations against the reign- 
 ing family immediately covered the walls of Naples. In 
 one of them it was said, " Who is the Capet who pretends to 
 reign over you, in virtue of the investiture of the pope ? 
 Who IS the crowned scoundrel who dares to govern you ? 
 Let him dread the fate of his relative who crushed by 
 his despotism the rising liberty of the Gauls." (SignedJ 
 " Championnet."— Hard., vn., 172, 173. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 555 
 
 banks containing the property of individuals, the 
 allodial lands, of which the king was only ad- 
 ministrator, and even the curiosities of Hercu- 
 laneum and Pompeii, though still buried in the 
 bowels of the earth. Championnet, ashamed of 
 this odious proceeding, suspended the decree of 
 the Convention^ upon whicii he was immediate- 
 ly recalled, indicted for his disobedience, and 
 Macdonald intrusted with the supreme command, 
 ■while a commission of twenty-five members was 
 appointed to draw up a Constitution for the new 
 Republic. The Constitution which they framed 
 ■?vas, as might have been anticipated, fraught 
 with the grossest injustice, and totally unsuitable 
 to the circumstances of the country. Jacobin 
 clubs were established ; the right of election con- 
 fined to colleges of electors named by govern- 
 ment, deprived the people of the free franchises 
 ■which they had inherited from the ancient cus- 
 toms ; a national guard established, in which not 
 three hundred were ever enrolled, and, finally, a 
 decree passed, which declared that in every dis- 
 pute between the barons and individuals, judg- 
 ment should, without investigation, be given in 
 favour of the private citizen ! But amid these 
 frantic proceedings, the French generals and civil 
 authorities did not lose sight of their favourite 
 objects, public and private plunder ; the arsenals, 
 palaces, and private houses were pillaged with- 
 out mercy ; all the bronze cannon which could 
 be found, melted down and sold; and the Nea- 
 politan Democrats had even the mortification of 
 seeing the beautiful statues of the same metal 
 which adorned the streets of their capital, dis- 
 posed of to the highest bidder, to fill the pockets 
 of their Republican allies. The utmost discon- 
 tent immediately ensued in all classes; the pa- 
 triots broke out into vehement exclamations 
 against the perfidy and avarice of their deliver- 
 ers, and the Democratic government soon be- 
 came more odious even to the popular party than 
 the regal authority by which it had been pre- 
 ceded.* 
 
 While Italy, convulsed by Democratic pas- 
 sions, was thus everywhere falling under 
 Irekad! ''^^ y°^^ °^ '^^ French Directory, Great 
 Britain underwent a perilous crisis of its 
 fete; and the firmness and intrepidity of English 
 patriotism was finely contrasted with the fumes 
 of Continental Democracy and the vacillation of 
 Continental resolution. Ireland was the scene 
 of danger ; the theatre, in so many periods of 
 English history, of oppressive or unfortunate 
 legislation on the side of government, and of 
 fierce and blindfold passions on the part of the 
 people. 
 
 In surveying the annals of this unhappy coun- 
 Heflect.ons on ^^^ it appears impossible, at first 
 the melancholy sight, to explain the causes of its 
 history of that suffering by any of the known prin- 
 country. ciples of human nature. Severe 
 
 and conciliatory policy seem to have been equal- 
 ly unavailing to heal its wounds. Conquest has 
 failed in producing submission, severity in en- 
 forcing tranquillity, indulgence in awakening 
 gratitude. The irritation excited by the original 
 subjugation of the island seems to be unabated 
 after the lapse of five centuries ; the indulgence 
 with which it has often been treated has led uni- 
 formly only to increased exasperation and more 
 formidable insurrections ; and the greater part of 
 the sulfering which it has so long undergone, ap- 
 pears to have arisen from the measures of sever- 
 
 * Bot., iii., 172, 177. Jom., ii., 318, 319. Hard., vxi., 
 178, 187. 
 
 ity rendered necessary by the excitation of popu- 
 lar passion consequent on every atiempt to re- 
 turn to a more lenient system of government. 
 
 The first British sovereign who directed his 
 attention to the improvement of Ireland was 
 James I. He justly boasted that there would be 
 found the true theatre of his glory, and that he 
 had done more in a single reign for the improve- 
 ment of that important part of the empire, than 
 all his predecessors from the days of Henry II. 
 Instead of increased tranquillity and augmented 
 gratitude, there broke out, shortly after, the dread- 
 ful rebellion of 1G41, which was only extin- 
 guished by Cromwell in oceans of blood. A se- 
 vere and oppressive code was imposed soon after 
 the revolution in 1688, and under it the island 
 remained discontented indeed, but comparatively 
 tranquil, for a hundred years. The more galling 
 parts of this code were removed by the beneficent 
 policy of George III. From 1780 to 1798 was 
 an uninterrupted course of improvement, conces- 
 sion, and removal of disability, and this indulgent 
 policy was immediately followed by the rebellion 
 of 1798. The last letters of restriction were 
 struck off by the Catholic Relief Bill in 1829, 
 and the exasperation, discontent, and violence in 
 Ireland, which immediately followed, have been 
 unprecedented in the long course of its humilia- 
 ted existence. All the promises of tranquillity so 
 often held forth by its advocates were falsified, 
 and half a century of unbroken indulgence was 
 succeeded by the tierce demand for the Repeal of, 
 the Union, and a degree of anarchy, devastation, 
 and bloodshed unparalleled in any Christian 
 land. 
 
 These effects are so much at variance with 
 what was predicted and expected to arise from 
 such conciliatory measures, that many able ob- 
 servers have not hesitated to declare them inex- 
 plicable, and to set down Ireland as an exceptioa 
 to all the ordinary principles of human nature. 
 A little consideration, however, of the motives 
 which influence mankind on such occasions, and 
 the state of society in which they were called into 
 operation, will be sufficient to demonstrate that 
 this is not the ca.se, and that the continued tur- 
 bulence of Ireland is the natural result of these 
 principles acting in peculiar and almost unpre- 
 cedented circumstances. 
 
 The first evil which has attached to Ireland 
 was the original and subsequent con- on^inal evil 
 fiscation of so large a portion of the ansm? from 
 landed property, and its acquisition confiscation 
 by persons of a different country, hab- "^ '''^^" 
 its, and religion, from the great body of the in- 
 habitants. In the greater part of the insurrec- 
 tions which that country has witnessed since the 
 English standard first approached its shores, 
 nearly all its landed property has been confisca- 
 ted, and lavished either on the English nobility, 
 or companies, or individuals of English extrac- 
 tion. Above eight millions of acres were be- 
 stowed away in this manner upon the adventu- 
 rers and soldiers of fortune who followed the 
 standard of Cromwell.* It is the great extent of 
 this cruel and unjust measure which has been 
 the original cause of the disasters of Ireland, by 
 nourishing profound feelings of hatred in the 
 descendants of the dispossessed proprietors, and 
 introducing a body of men into the country, ne- 
 cessarily dependant Ibr their existence upon the 
 exclusion of the heirs of the original owners from 
 the inheritance of their forefathers. 
 
 Lingard, li., 136, and lii., 74 
 
556 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chaf. XXVI. 
 
 But other countries have been subjected to 
 landed confiscation as well as Ireland : nearly 
 all the land of England was transferred, first from 
 the Britons to the Saxons, and thence from the 
 Saxons to the Normans ; the lands of Gaul were 
 almost entirely, in the course of five centuries, 
 wrested by the Franks from the native inhabi- 
 tants,* and yet upon that foundation have been 
 reared the glories of English civilization and the 
 concentrated vigour of the French monarchy. 
 Other causes, therefore, must be looked for, co- 
 existing with or succeeding these, which have 
 prevented the healing powers of nature from 
 closing there, as elsewhere, that ghastly wound, 
 and perpetuated to distant ages the irritation and 
 the animosities consequent on the first bitterness 
 
 ■a 1- of conquest. These causes are to be 
 
 Peculiar caus- ^ i • .1. r , 
 
 es which lound m the uniorlunate circum- 
 
 have aggrava- Stance that Ireland was not the seat, 
 ted this evil in h^q England or Gaul, of the perma- 
 Ireland. ^^^^ residence of the victorious na- 
 
 tion ; that absent proprietors, and their necessary 
 attendants, middlemen, arose from the very first 
 subjugation of the kingdom, by a race of con- 
 querors who were not to make it their resting- 
 place ; and that a difi'erent religion was subse- 
 quently embraced by the victors from the faith 
 of the vanquished, and the bitterness of religious 
 animosity superadded to the causes of discontent 
 arising from civil distinction. The same prog- 
 ress w^as beginning in Scotland after the coun- 
 try was overrun by Edward I., when it w^as ar- 
 rested by the vigorous efforts of her unconquera- 
 ble people ; five centuries of experienced obliga- 
 tion have not yet fully developed the inappreci- 
 able consequences of the victory of Bannockbum, 
 or stamped adequate celebrity on the name of 
 Robert Bruce. 
 
 Great as were these causes of discontent, 
 The Irish are ^^^ deeply as they had poisoned the 
 as yet unfit fountains of national prosperity, they 
 for free pnv- might yet have been obliterated in 
 ileges. process of time, and the victors and 
 
 vanquished settled down, as in France and Eng- 
 land, into one united people, had it not been for 
 another circumstance, to which sufficient atten- 
 tion has not yet been paid, viz., the incessant agi- 
 tation and vehemence of party strife, arising from 
 the extension, perhaps unavoidable from the con- 
 nexion with England, of the forms of a free and 
 representative government to a people who were 
 in a state of civilization vmfit for either. The 
 fervid and passionate character of the Irish peas- 
 antry, which they share, more or less, with all 
 nations in an infant state of civilization, and, 
 still more, of unmixed Celtic descent, is totally 
 inconsistent with the calm consideration and de- 
 liberate judgment requisite for the due exercise 
 of political rights. The duties of grand and com- 
 mon jur}'men, of electors for representatives to 
 Parliament, and of citizens uniting in public 
 meetings, cannot, as yet, be fitly exercised by a 
 large portion of the Irish people. 
 
 From the periodical recurrence of such sea- 
 sons of excitation has arisen the perpetuating of 
 popular passions and the maintenance of party 
 strife, from the extinction of which alone can 
 habits of industry or good order be expected to 
 arise. Continued despotism might have healed 
 the wounds of Ireland in a few generations, by 
 extinguishing the passions of the people with the 
 power of indulging them ; but the alternations of 
 severity and indulgence which they have experi- 
 
 Guizot, Essais sur I'Histoire de France, 178, 179. 
 
 enced under the British government, like a sim- 
 ilar course pursued to a spoiled child, have fos- 
 tered rather than diminished the public discon- 
 tent, by giving the power of complaint without 
 removing its causes, and prolonging the sense 
 of suffering by perpetuating the passions from 
 which it has arisen. This explains the other- 
 wise unaccountable circumstance, that all the 
 most violent ebullitions of Irish insurrection 
 have taken place shortly after the greatest boons 
 had been conferred upon them by the British 
 Legislature, and that the severest oppression of 
 which they complain is not that of the English 
 government, whose conduct towards them for the 
 last forty years has been singularly gentle and 
 beneficent, but of their own native magistracy, 
 from whose vindictive or reckless proceedings 
 their chief miseries are said to have arisen. A 
 people in such circumstances are almost as in- 
 capable of bearing the excitements of political 
 change, or the exercise of political power, as the 
 West India negroes or the Bedouins of Arabia ; 
 and hence the fanatical temper of the English 
 nation, in the reign of Charles I., speedily gen- 
 erated the Jiorrors of the Tyrone rebellion; the 
 fumes of French Democracy, in the close of the 
 eighteenth century, gave rise to the insurrection 
 of the United Irishmen ; and the excitement con- 
 .sequent on the party agitation set on foot to efiect 
 Catholic Emancipation, the Removal of Tithes, 
 and the Repeal of the Union, has produced in our 
 own times a degree of animosity and discord on 
 its peopled shores, which bids fair to throw it 
 back for half a century in the career of real free- 
 dom.* 
 
 Following out the system which they uni- 
 fonnly adopted towards the states , .. . 
 
 , . / ^, r . , J ^ _, Intimate 
 
 wliich they wished to overthrow, ^mon formed 
 whether by open hostility or secret by Irish male- 
 propagandism, the French govern- contents with 
 ment had for years held out hopes to ^'■^°*^^- 
 the Irish malecontents, and by even,^ means in 
 their power sought to widen the breach, already, 
 unhappily, too great, between the native and the 
 English population. This was no difficult task. 
 The Irish were already sufficiently disposed to- 
 ally themselves with any enemy who promised 
 to liberate them from the odious yoke of the 
 Saxons, and the dreams of liberty and equality 
 which the French spread wherever they went, 
 and which turned so many of the strongest heads 
 in Europe, proved altogether intoxicating to their 
 ardent and enthusiastic minds. From the begin- 
 ning of the Revolution, accordingly, its progress 
 was watched with intense anxiety in Ireland. 
 All the horrors of the Reign of Terror failed in 
 opening the eyes of its inhabitants to its real ten- 
 dency ; and the greater and more enterprising 
 part of^ the Catholic population, who constituted 
 three fourths of its entire inhabitants, soon be- 
 came leagued together for the establishment of a 
 
 * The serious crimes in Ireland during the last three- 
 months of 1829 (the Emancipation Bill passed in 
 
 March) 300 
 
 Do. of I8S0 499 
 
 Do. of 1831 (Reform Aeitation) 814 
 
 Do. of 1832 (Tithe and Repeal Agitation) 1513 
 
 The crimes reported in Ireland in the year 1831 were 
 16,669 : of which 210 were murders ; 1478 robberies ; burn- 
 inc; houses, 466 ; attacks on houses, 2296 ; burglaries, 531 ; 
 robbeiy of arms, 678. The crimes reported in Ensrland in 
 the same year were 19,647. The population of England and 
 Wales in 1831 was I3.S94.000 ; that of Ireland, 7.784.000.— 
 See Pari. Returns, 14th .March, 1833 ; 8th May, 1833 ; and 
 population census, 1833. l.'y the Coercion Act, the serious, 
 crimes were at once reduced to a fourth part, or nearly so, 
 of these numbers.— See HansaBD, Pari. Deb., Feb. 9, 1834^ 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 557 
 
 republic in alliance with France, the severance 
 of all connexion with England, the restoration of 
 the Catholic religion, and the resumption of the 
 forfeited lands.* 
 
 The s)-stem by which this immense insurrec- 
 _ , .. tion was organized was one of the 
 
 Revolutinna- ^ . , ° i ^ .1 
 
 ly organiza- most Simple, and, at tlie same time, 
 tion establish- one of the most eliicacious that ever 
 ed throughout was devised. Persons were sworn 
 Irelaud. ^^g ^j^ association in every part of 
 
 Ireland, called the Society of United Inshmen, 
 the real objects of which were kept a profound 
 secret, while the ostensible ones were those best 
 calculated to allure the populace. No meeting 
 was allowed to consist of more than twelve mem- 
 bers ; five of these were represented by five mem- 
 bers in a committee, vested with the manage- 
 ment of all their affairs. From each of these 
 committees a deputy attended in a superior body ; 
 one or two deputies from these composed a coun- 
 ty committee ; two from every county committee, 
 a provincial one; and they elected five persons 
 to superintend the whole business of the Union. 
 This provisional government was elected by 
 ballot; and the names of its members were only 
 communicated to the secretaries of the provin- 
 cial committees, who were officially intrusted 
 with the scrutiny of the votes. Thus, though 
 their power was unbounded, their agency was 
 invisible, and many hundred thousand men obey- 
 ed the dictates of an unknown authority. Lib- 
 eration from tithes and dues to the Protestant 
 clergy, and the restoration of the Roman Catho- 
 lic faith, formed the chief boons presented to the 
 lower classes ; and, in order to effect these ob- 
 jects, it was speciously pretended that a total 
 change of government was necessarj'. The real 
 objects of the chiefs of the insurrection, which 
 they would have had no difficulty in persuading 
 the giddy multitude who followed their steps to 
 adopt, were the overthrow of the English gov- 
 ernment, and the formation of a republic allied 
 to France. Parliamentary reform was the ob- 
 ject ostensibly held out to the country, as being 
 the one most calculated to conceal their ultimate 
 designs, and enlist the greatest number of the 
 respectable classes on their side. So strongly 
 ■were men's minds infected with party spirit at 
 that period, and so completely did it obliterate 
 the better feelings of our nature, even in the most 
 generous minds, that these intentions were com- 
 municated to several of the opposition party on 
 both sides of the Channel ; and even Mr. Fox, 
 if we may believe the poetic biographer of Lord 
 E. Fitzgeraldjt was no stranger to the project 
 entertained for the dismemberment and revolu- 
 tionizing of the Empire.t 
 
 * Wolfe Tone, 11., 187, 191. Ann. Reg., 1798, 153, 157. 
 Jom., xi., 428, 429. Ante, 443. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1793, 154, 157. Wolfe Tone, ii., 197, 201. 
 Moore's Fitzgerald, i., 165, 166, 277. Hard., vi., 201, 202. 
 
 t " In order to settle," saj-s Moore, " all the details of 
 their late agreement with France, and, in fact, to enter into 
 a formal treaty with the Directory, it was thought of im- 
 portance by the United Irishmen to send some agent whose 
 station and character should, in the eyes of their new allies, 
 lend weight to his mission ; and to Lord Edward Fitzgerald 
 the no less delicate than daring task was assigned. About 
 the latter end of May, he passed a day or two in London on 
 his way, and dined at a member of the House of Lords', as 
 I have been informed by a gentleman present, where the 
 company consisted of Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and several 
 other distinguished Whigs — all persons who had been 
 known to concur warmly in every step of the popular cause 
 in Ireland, and to whom, if Lord Edward did not give some 
 intimation of the object of his present jOurney, such an ef- 
 fort of reserve and secrecy was, I must sav, very unusual 
 to his character. ... It is well known that Mr. Fox 
 
 To resist this formidable combination, another 
 
 society, composed of those attached r 1 , e 
 ,^ tu^ o„;.' I . 1 , Combination of 
 
 to the British government and the Orangemen to 
 
 Protestant ascendency, was formed, uphold British 
 under the name of Orangemen, who connexion, 
 soon rivalled the activity and energy of the 
 Catholic party. The same vehement zeal and 
 ardent passions which have always character- 
 ized the Irish people, signalized their efforts. 
 The feuds between these two great parties sooa 
 became universal; deeds of depredation, rapine, 
 and murder filled the lojid ; and it was sometimes 
 hard to say whether most acts of violence were 
 perpetrated by the open enemies of law and 
 order, or its unruly defenders.* 
 
 The leaders of the insurrection. Lord Edward 
 Fitzgerald, Mr. Arthur O'Connor, Treaty of the 
 and Wolfe Tone, went over to France Irish rebeU 
 in June, 1796, where a treaty was with France, 
 concluded with the French Directory, by which 
 it was agreed that a considerable fleet and army 
 should, in the autumn of that year, be ready for 
 the invasion of Ireland, to enable it to throw oflT 
 the connexion with England, and form a repub- 
 lic in alliance with France. It has been already 
 mentioned how these expectations were thwart- 
 ed, first by the dispersion of the French fleet in 
 Bantry Bay in December, 1796, and then by the 
 glorious victory of Camperdown in 1797. The 
 vigorous efforts of government at that period, 
 and the patriotic ardour of a large portion of the 
 more respectable part of the people, contributed 
 in no small degree to overawe the discontented, 
 and postponed for a considerable period the final 
 explosion of the insurrection. t 
 
 Government, meanwhile, were by no means 
 aware of the magnitude of the danger which 
 threatened them. They had received only some 
 vague information of the existence of a seditious 
 confederacy, when there were two hundred and 
 fifty thousand men organized in companies and 
 regiments in diflferent parts of the kingdom, and 
 the leaders appointed by whom the insurrection, 
 was to be carried into execution in every county 
 of the island. But the defeat of the Dutch fleet 
 having left the insurgents little hope of any pow- 
 erful succour from France, they became despe- 
 rate, and began to break out into acts of violence 
 in several parts of the country. From want of 
 arms and military organization, however, they 
 were unable to act in large bodies, and, com- 
 mencing a Vendean system of warfare in the 
 southern counties, soon compelled all the re- 
 spectable inhabitants to fly to the towns to avoid 
 massacre and conflagration. These disorders 
 were repressed with great severity by the British 
 troops and the German auxiliaries in English 
 pay. The yeomanry, forty thousand strong, 
 turned out with undaunted courage at the ap- 
 proach of danger, and many cruelties were per- 
 petrated under the British colours, which, though 
 
 himself, impatient at the hopelessness of all his efforts to rid 
 England, by any ordinary means, of a despotism which aris- 
 tocratic alarm had brought upon her, found himself driven, 
 in his despair of reform, so near the edge where revolution 
 begins, that, had there existed at that time in England any- 
 thing like the same prevalent sympathy with the new doc- 
 trines of Democracy as responded throughout Ireland, there 
 is no saying how far short of the daring aims of Lord Ed- 
 ward even this great constitutional leader of the Whigs 
 7night, in the warmth of his generous zeal, have ventured." 
 It is to be hoped that the biographer of the great English 
 statesman will be able to efface the stain thus cast on his 
 memory by the warmth of combined poetic and Irish zeal. — 
 See Moore's Fitzgerald, i., 165, 166, 276. 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1798, 155. 
 
 t Ann. Reg., 1798, 158, 159. Wolfe Tone, ii. Moore's 
 Fitzgerald, i., 2, 77. Hard., vi., 212, 213. 
 
558 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 only a retaliation upon the insurgents of their 
 own excesses, excited a deep feeling of revenge, 
 and drove to desperation their furious and un- 
 disciplined multitudes.* 
 
 The beginning ot 1798 brought matters to an 
 Feb 19 1798 extremity between the contending 
 The ins'urrec- parties. On the 19th of February 
 tion at length Lord Moira made an eloquent speech 
 breaks out. jn {jjeir favour in Parliament; but 
 the period of accommodation was past. On the 
 same day the Irish committees came to a formal 
 resolution to pay no attention to any offers from 
 either house of Parliament, and to agree to no 
 terms but a total separation from Great Britain. 
 Still, though their designs were discovered, the 
 chiefs of the conspiracy were unknown : but at 
 M h 12 ^s"^?^^^' ^'^^i"^ names having been re- 
 
 ^*^ ■ vealed by one of their own leaders, 
 fourteen of the chiefs were arrested at Dublin ; 
 and Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who escaped at 
 that time, was mortally wounded some months 
 after, when defending himself from arrest, after 
 having rejected, from a generous devotion to his 
 comrades, all the humane offers made by govern- 
 ment to enable him to retire in safety from the 
 kingdom.t The places of these leaders were fill- 
 ed up by subordinate authorities ; but their arrest 
 was a fatal blow to the rebellion, by depriving 
 it of all the chiefs of character, rank, or ability. 
 
 Notwithstanding this untoward event, the in- 
 Various ac- surrection broke out at once in ma- 
 tions with the ny different parts of Ireland in the 
 insurgents. end of May. The design was to 
 May23, 1/98. geize the castle and artillery, and 
 surprise the camp at Dublin, while, at the same 
 time, the attention of government was to be dis- 
 tracted by a simultaneous rising in many differ- 
 ent parts of the country. The attempt upon 
 Dublin was frustrated by the vigilance of the 
 lord-lieutenant, who, on the verj"^ day on which 
 it was to have taken place, arrested the leaders 
 of the conspiracy in that capital ; but in other 
 quarters the revolt broke out with great violence. 
 M 25 Bodies of the insurgents were worsted at 
 
 ^^ ' Rath farmhouse by Lord Roden, and at 
 Tallanghill by the royal forces ; but their princi- 
 pal army, fifteen thousand strong, defeated the 
 English at Enniscorthy, captured that burgh, and 
 soon after made themselves masters of the im- 
 portant town of Wexford, containing a con- 
 siderable train of artillery, and opening a point 
 of communication with France. Following up 
 their successes, they advanced against New 
 Ross, on the confines of Kilkenny, but there 
 they were defeated with great loss by the royal 
 troops; and the rebels revenged them.selves for 
 the disaster by the massacre, in cold blood, of 
 above a hundred pri-soners taken at Wexford. 
 At Newtonbarr}', after having taken and retaken 
 the town several times, they were finally dis- 
 lodged with great loss by the yeomanry and mi- 
 litia. At length, the British commanders, hav- 
 ing collected above ten thousand men in the 
 J g. county of Wexford, commenced a gener- 
 al attack on the insurgents, who were fif- 
 teen thousand strong, in their camp at Vinegar 
 Hill. The resistance was more obstinate than 
 could have been expected from their tumultuaiy 
 Totally defeat- masses, but at length discipline and 
 ed at Vinegar skill prevailed over untrained val- 
 Hili- our. They were broken in several 
 
 charges by the English cavalry, and dispersed. 
 
 leaving all their cannon, thirteen in number, and 
 their whole ammunition in the hands of the 
 victors. This was a mortal stroke to the re- 
 bellion. The insurgents, flying in all directions, 
 were routed in several small encounters, and at 
 length the revolt was so completely got under, 
 that government were enabled to send Lord 
 Cornwallis M'ith a general amnesty for all who 
 submitted before a certain day, with the excep- 
 tion of a few leaders who were afterward brought 
 to justice. Such was the success of these meas- 
 ures, that out of sixty thousand men who were 
 in anns at the commencement of the insurrec- 
 tion, there remained at the end of July a few- 
 isolated bands in the mountains of Wicklow and 
 Wexford.* 
 
 It was fortunate for England, during this dan- 
 gerous crisis, that the French gov- i,„n„„ent dan- 
 emment made no adequate attempt ger from which, 
 to support the insurrection ; that England then , 
 they had exposed their navy to de- escaped, 
 feat in the previous actions at St. Vincent's and 
 Camperdown, and that now, instead of wound- 
 ing their mortal enemy in this vulnerable point, 
 they had sent the flower of the army, their best 
 general, and most powerful squadron, upon a 
 distant expedition to the coast of Alrica. Con- 
 fidently trusting, as every Briton must do, that 
 the struggle between France and this country 
 would have terminated in the overthrow of the 
 former, even if it had taken place on our own 
 shores, it is impossible to deny that the landing 
 of Napoleon with forty thousand men, in the 
 midst of the immense and discontented popula- 
 tion of Ireland, would have led to most alarming 
 consequences; and possibly the imminent peril 
 to the Empire might earlier have produced that 
 burst of patriotic feeling and development of 
 military prowess which was afterward so con- 
 spicuous in the Peninsular war. 
 
 Awakened, when too late, to the importance of 
 the opening which was thus aflbrd- -^^^ ^^^^ ^^_ 
 ed to their arms, the Director}' made fortl of the l)i- 
 several attempts to rekindle the ex- rectorj- to re- 
 piring flame of the insurrection, five the insui> 
 Eleven hundred men, under General '■«'*'""°- 
 Humbert, setting sail from Rochefort, landed at 
 Killala, and, with the aid of Napper 
 Tandy, the Irish revolutionist, speedily ""' ' 
 commenced the organization of a provisional 
 government and the enrolment of revolutionary 
 legions in the province of Connaught.t A force 
 
 * Ami. Reg.. 1798, 159, 161. Jom.. x., 429, 430. Wolfe 
 Tone, ii., 255, 270. Hard., vi., 205, 206. 
 1 Ann. Reg., 1798, 162. Moore's Fitzgerald, ii., 371, 378. 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1798, 161, 165. Jom., x., 430, 435. Hard^ 
 VI., 217, 218. 
 
 t The landing of the French troops was announced hy 
 two proclamations, one from the French general, the other 
 from Napper Tandy to his countrymen. The first bore : 
 " United Irish ! The soldiers of the great nation have land- 
 ed on your shores, amply provided with arms, artilleiy, and 
 munitions of all sorts, to aid you in breaking your fetters and 
 recovering your liberties. Napper Tandy is at their head ; 
 he has sworn to break your fetters, or perish in the attempt. 
 To arms ! freemen, to arms I the trumpet calls you ; do not 
 let your brethren perish unrevenged ; if it is their destiny to 
 fall, may their blood cement the glorious fabric of freedom." 
 That from Napper Tandy was still more vehement : " What 
 do I hear ? The British government talks of concessions ! 
 will you accept them ? Can you for a moment entertain the 
 thought of entering into terms with a government which 
 leaves you at the mercy of the English soldiery, which mas- 
 sacres inhumanly jour best citizens — with a ministry which 
 is the pest of society and a scourge of the human race ! 
 They hold out in one hand the olive-branch ; look well to 
 the other, you will see in it the hidden dagger. No, Irish- 
 men, you will not be the dupe of such base intrigues : feel- 
 ing its inability to subdue your courage, it seeks only to se- 
 duce you. But you will frustrate all its efforts. Barbarous 
 crimes have tieen committed in your country ; your friendo 
 have fallen victims to their devotion to your cause ; their 
 shades surroand yon ; they cry aloud for vengeance. It is 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 559 
 
 of four thousand men, consi-sting chiefly of yeo- 
 manry and militia, was defeated by this enter- 
 prising commander, with the loss of seven pieces 
 of cannon and six iiundred prisoners; a disaster 
 which demonstrates the danger wiiich would 
 have been incurred if Napoleon, with the army 
 of Egypt, had arrived in his stead. At length 
 the little corps was surrounded, and compelled 
 to surrender, after a gallant resistance, by Lord 
 Comwallis. A French force, consisting 
 Sept. 8. ^j- jj^g Hoche of seventy-four guns and 
 eight frigates, having on board three thousand 
 men, eluded the vigilance of the Channel fleet, 
 and arrived on the coast of Ireland; but they 
 were there attacked by the squadron under the 
 command of Sir John Borlase Warren, and the 
 whole taken, after a short action, 
 Oct. 12,1/98. ^.j^j^ j^j^g exception of two frigates, 
 
 which regained the ports of the Republic. On 
 board the Hoche was seized the celebrated leader, 
 Wolle Tone, who, after having, with great firm- 
 ness, undergone a trial for high treason, prevent- 
 ed a public execution by a deplorable suicide, ac- 
 companied with more than ordinary circumstan- 
 ces ot' horror. His death closed the melancholy 
 catalogue of executions on account of this un- 
 happy rebellion; and it is but justice to the Brit- 
 ish government to add, that although many griev- 
 ous acts were perpetrated by the troops under 
 their orders in its suppression, yet the modera- 
 tion and humanity which they themselves dis- 
 played towards the vanquished were as conspic- 
 uous as the vigilance and firmness of their ad- 
 ministration. *t 
 
 The maritime afi'airs of this year were chiefly 
 Maritime af- distinguished by the capture of Mi- 
 fairs of the norca, which, notwithstanding the 
 year. great Strength of its fortifications, 
 
 yielded to a British force under the command of 
 General Stewart. In August, the inhabitants of 
 the little island of Gozo, a dependance of Malta, 
 revolted against the French garrison, made them 
 prisoners to the number of three hundred, and 
 
 your duty to avenge their death ; it is your duty to^trike 
 the assassms of your friends on their bloody thrones. Irish- 
 men ! declare a war of extermination against your oppres- 
 sors ; the eternal war of liberty against tyranny. — Napper 
 Tandy." But the conduct of this leader was far from keep- 
 ing pace with these vehement protestations ; for no sooner 
 did he hear of the reverse sustained by the French corps 
 which had landed in Killala Bay, than he re-embarked im 
 board the French brig- Anacreon, and got safe across the 
 Channel. — See both proclamations in IIakd., vi., 223, 223. 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 179S, 165. Jom., i.,440,442. Hard., vi., 219. 
 
 t The firmness and success of the British government, 
 amid so many examples of weakness elsewhere, excited at 
 this juncture the highest admiration on the Continent. " In 
 the IJritish cabinet," says Prince Hardenberg, " there was 
 then to be seen neither irresolution nor discouragement ; no 
 symptoms of that cruel perplexity which tormented the con- 
 tinenlal sovereigns. In vain were the efforts of the Direc- 
 tory directed against that point of the globe, which they as- 
 sailed with all their weapons, both military and revolutionary. 
 England sustained the shock with daily increasing energy. 
 Her dignity was untouched, herarras unconquered. The most 
 terrible war to which an empire could be exposed, there pro- 
 duced less anxiety, troubles, and disquietude than was ex- 
 perienced by those states which had been seduced by the 
 prospect of a fallacious peace to come to terms of accommo- 
 dation with the French Republic. It was with eight hun- 
 dred ships of war, a hundred and fifty thousand sailors, three 
 hundred thousand land-tniops, and an expenditure of fifty 
 milhons sterling a year, that she maintained the contest. It 
 was by periodical victories of unprecedented splendour, by 
 drawing closer together the bonds of her Consiitution, that 
 she replied toall t he efforts of Fiance to dismember her domin- 
 ions. But never did she run greater danger than this year, 
 when one expedition, directed against the East, threatened 
 with destruction her Indian empire, and another against the 
 West, was destined to carry into Ireland tlie pnncijiles of 
 the Fiench Revolution, and severthat important island from 
 the British Empire."— IIakd., vi., 197, 198. 
 
 compelled the Republicans to shut themselves 
 up in the walls of La Valette, where tliey were 
 immediately subjected to the most rigorous 
 blockade by the British forces by land and sea.* 
 So unbounded was the arrogance, so reckless 
 the policy of the P'rench government r,,,^^,^^ of 
 at this time, that it all but involved France witk 
 them in a war with the United States the United 
 of North America, the country in the ^'^'es. 
 world in which Democratic institutions prevail 
 to the greatest extent, and where gratitude to 
 France was most unbounded lor the services 
 rendered to them during their contest with Great 
 Britain. 
 
 The origin of these disputes was a decree of 
 the French government in January, 1798, which 
 directed " that all ships having for their cargoes, 
 in whole or in part, any English merchandise, 
 should be held lawful prize, whoever was the 
 proprietor of that merchandise, which should be 
 held contraband from the single circumstance of 
 its coming from England, or any of its foreigu 
 settlements ; that the harbours of France should 
 be shut against all vessels which had so much 
 as touched at an English harbour, and that neu- 
 tral sailors found on board English vessels should 
 be put to death." This barbarous decree imme- 
 diately brought the French into collision with 
 the United States, who at that period were the 
 great neutral carriers of the world. Letters of 
 marque were issued, and an immense number 
 of American vessels, having touched at English 
 harbours, brought into the French ports. The 
 American government sent envoys to Paris, in 
 order to remonstrate against these proceedings. 
 They urged that the decree of the French pro- 
 ceeded on the oppressive principle that, because 
 a neutral is obliged to submit to exactions from 
 one belligerent party, from inability to prevent 
 them, therefore it must submit to the same from 
 the other, though neither sanctioned, as in the 
 other case, by previous usage, nor authorized by 
 treaty. The envoys could not obtain an audi- 
 ence of the Directory, but they were permitted to 
 remain in Paris, and a negotiation opened with 
 Talleyrand and his inferior agents, which sooa 
 unfolded the real object which the shameful ra- 
 French government had in view. It pacity of the 
 was intimated to the envoys that the French gov- 
 intention of the Directory, in refusing emment. 
 to receive them in public, and permitting them to 
 remain in a private capacity, was to lay the Uni- 
 ted States under a contribution, not only of a large 
 sum as a loan to the government, but of another 
 for the private use of the directors. The sum. 
 required for the first object was ill, 000,000, and 
 for the last, i;50,000. This disgraceful proposal 
 was repeatedly pressed upon the envoys, not only 
 by the subaltern agents of Talleyrand, but by 
 that minister himself, who openly avowed that 
 nothing could be done at Paris without money, 
 and that there was not an American there who 
 would not confirm him in this statement. Find- 
 ing that the Americans resolutely resisted this 
 proposal, they were at length informed that, if 
 they would only " pay, by way of fees, just as 
 they would to a lawyer who should plead their 
 cause, the sum required for the private use of the 
 Directory, they might remain at Paris until the/ 
 had received farther orders from America May 25. 
 as to the loan required for govemment."t June 9. 
 These terms were indig nantly rejected ; J^'y ^- 
 
 * Ann. Reg., 1798, 127. Jom., x., 443. 
 t This tr.msaction was so extraordinary, that it is advisa- 
 ble to lay befjie the reader the official report oa the subject. 
 
560 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI, 
 
 the American envoys left Paris, letters of marque 
 ■were issued by the American president, all com- 
 mercial intercourse with France was suspended, 
 Washington declared generalissimo of the Ibrces 
 of the commonwealth, the treaties with France 
 declared at an end, and every preparation made 
 to sustain the national independence.* 
 
 The Hanse towns were not so fortunate in es- 
 Contnbutions raping from the exactions of the Di- 
 levied oa the rectory. Their distance from the 
 Hanse towns sceuc of contest ; their neutrality, so 
 by the Direc- favourable to the commerce of the 
 ^'"^' Republic ; the protection openly af- 
 
 forded them by the Prussian government, could 
 Dot save them from French rapacity. Their 
 ships, bearing a neutral flag, were daily made 
 prisoners by the French cruisers, and they ob- 
 tained licenses to navigate the high seas only by 
 the secret payment of Jil50,000 to the Republican 
 Tulers.t 
 
 It was impossible, as long as the slightest hope 
 Retrospect of °^ maintaining their independence 
 the late en- remained to the European states, 
 croachments that these iucessant and endless 
 of France. usurpations of the French govern- 
 ment could fail to lead to a renewal of the war. 
 France began the year 1798 with three affiliated 
 republics at her side, the Batavian, the Cisal- 
 pine, and the Ligurian. Before its close she had 
 organized three more, the Helvetic, the Roman, 
 and the Parthenopeian. Pursuing constantly 
 the same system ; addressing herself to the dis- 
 contented multitude in every state; paralyzing 
 the national strength by a division of its popula- 
 tion, and taking advantage of that division to 
 overthrow its independence, she had succeeded 
 in establishing her dominion over more than one 
 half of Europe. From the Texel to the extremi- 
 ty of Calabria, a compact chain of republics 
 ■was formed, which not only threatened the inde- 
 pendence of the other states of Europe by their 
 military power, but promised speedily to subvert 
 their whole social institutions by the incessant 
 propagation of revolutionary principles. Expe- 
 rience had proved that the freedom which the 
 
 presented by the American plenipotentiaries to their govern- 
 ment. " On the I8th of October, the plenipotentiary Pinrk- 
 ney received a visit from the secret agent of M. Talleyrand 
 (M. Bellarni). He assnred us that Citizen Talleyrand had 
 the highest esteem for America and the citizens of the Uni- 
 ted St.'ites, and that he was most anxious for their recon- 
 ciliation with France. He added that, with that view, 
 some of the most offensive passages in the speech of Presi- 
 dent Adams must be expunged, and a douceur of £50,0(10 
 sterling put at the disposal of M. Talleyrand for the use of 
 the directors ; and a large loan furnislied by America to 
 France. On the 20th, the same subject was resumed in the 
 apartments of the plenipotentiary, and on this occasion, be- 
 sides the secret agent, an intimate friend of Talleyrand was 
 present ; the expunging of the passages was again insisted 
 on, and it was added that, after that, money was the princi- 
 pal object. His words were, ' We must have money, a 
 great deal of monev.' On the 21st, at a third conference, 
 the sum was fixed at 32,000,000 (£1,280,000) as a loan, se- 
 cured on the Dutch contributions, and a gratification of 
 £50,000 in the form of a douceur to the directors." At a 
 subsequent meeting on the 27th of October, the same secret 
 agent said, " Gentlemen, you mistake the point ; you say 
 nothing of the money you are to give. You make no offer of 
 money. On that point you are not explicit." " We are ex- 
 plicit enough," replied the American envoys ; " we will not 
 give you one farthing ; and before coming here, we should 
 have thought such an offer as you now propose would have 
 been regarded as a mortal insult." — See the report in Hard., 
 vi., 14, 22. When the American envoys published this 
 statement, Talleyrand disavowed all the proceedings of 
 these .secret agents ; but M. Bellarni puljlished a declaration 
 at Hamburg, " that he had neither said, written, or done 
 a single thing without the orders of Citizen Talleyrand." — 
 Jbid., vi., 29. 
 
 * 'Ann. Reg.. 1798,241,247. Jom..x.,363. Hard., vi., 21. 
 
 t Jom., X., 364. Hard., vi., 34, 38. 
 
 Jacobin agents insidiously offered to the deluded 
 population of other states, was neither more nor 
 less than an entire subjection to the agents of 
 France ; and that the moment that they endeav- 
 oured to obtain in reality that liberty which they 
 had been promi-^ed in name, they were subjected 
 to the most arbitrary and despotic oppression.* 
 
 In resisting this alarming invasion, not merely 
 of the independence of nations, but Their svstem 
 the principles which hold together rendered peace 
 the social union, it was obvious impossible, 
 that no time was to be lost, and that the peri] 
 incurred was even greater in peace than during 
 the utmost dangers of war. France had made 
 more rapid strides towards universal dominion 
 during one year of pacific encroachment than 
 six previous years of hostilities. The continu- 
 ance of amicable relations was favourable to the 
 secret propagation of the revolutionary mania, 
 with all the extravagant hopes and expectations 
 to which it gave rise ; and without the shock of 
 war or an elibrt even to maintain the public for- 
 tunes, the independence of nations was silently 
 melting away before the insidious but incessant 
 efforts of Democratic ambition. It was but a 
 poor consolation to those who witnessed this de- 
 plorable progress, that those who lent an ear to 
 these suggestions were the first to sufier from 
 their efiects, and that they subjected themselves 
 and their country to a far worse despotism than 
 that from which they hoped to emancipate it; 
 the evil was done, the national independence was 
 subverted ; revolutionary interests were created, 
 and the principle of Democracy, using the van- 
 quished states as an advanced post, was daily 
 proceeding to fresh conquests, and openly aimed 
 at universal dominion. 
 
 These considerations, strongly excited by the 
 subjugation of Switzerland and the ^^3^^ ^^ ^ 
 papal states, led to a general feel- general feeling 
 ing throughout all the European m favour of a 
 monarchies of the necessity of a confederacy, 
 general coalition to resist the far- ^^^f^ ^"^^'^^ 
 ther encroachments of France, and 
 stop the alarming progress of revolutionary 
 principles. The Emperor of Prussia at length 
 saw the necessity of joining his great empire to 
 the confederacy ; and a Muscovite army, sixty 
 thousand strong, began its march from Poland 
 towards the north of Italy, while another, amount- 
 ing nearly to forty thousand, moved towards the 
 south of Germany.t 
 
 The negotiations at Rastadt, notwithstanding 
 their length and intricacy, had led progTess of the 
 to no satisfactory result. The tem- negotiations at 
 per in which they were conducted Kastadt. 
 underwent a material change with the lapse of 
 time. The treaty of Campo Formio was more 
 than an ordinary accommodation ; it was a 
 league by the great powers, who there termina- 
 ted their hostilities, for their own aggrandize- 
 ment at the expense of their neighbours, and in 
 its secret articles were contained stipulations 
 which amounted to an abandoment of the Em- 
 pire by its head, to the rapacity of the Republi- 
 can government. Venice was the ^,„jjpj^,j 
 glittering prize which induced this J^'f^'i^ 1797' 
 dereliction of principle on the part 
 of the emperor ; and, accordingly, it was agreed, 
 that on the same day on which that great city 
 was surrendered to the imperial troops, May- 
 ence, the bulwark of the German Empire on the 
 Lower Rhine, should be given to the Republi- 
 
 * Th., X., 206. t Th., x., 146. l,ac.,xiv,, 
 
 311, 312. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 561 
 
 cans.* By an additional article it ■\va.'^ provided 
 that the Austrian troops should, within twenty 
 days alter the ratification of the secret articles, 
 evacuate also Ingolstadt, Philipsburg, and all the 
 fortresses as far back as the frontiers of the he- 
 reditary states, and that, within the same period, 
 the French forces should retire from Palma 
 Nuova, Legnago, Ozoppo, and the Italian for- 
 tresses as far as the Adige.t 
 
 This important military convention, which to- 
 
 „, . tally disabled the Empire from ma- 
 
 The secret uu- , . •' n- . i • . . .i. 
 
 derstandinc' ki'"*? ^^Y eliectual resistance to the 
 
 between ° French forces, was kept a profound 
 
 France and secret, and only became known to 
 
 Austria IS the German princes when, from its 
 made manifest. . . , ' . • j • . 
 
 provisions being earned into exe- 
 cution, it could no longer, in part, at least, be 
 concealed. But, in the mean time, it led to a 
 very great degree of intimacy between Napoleon 
 and Cobentzell, the Austrian ambassador at Ras- 
 tadt, insomuch that the emperor, who perceived 
 the extreme irritation which at that moment the 
 French general felt against the Republican gov- 
 ernment at Paris, offered him a principality in 
 Germany, with 250,000 souls, in order that " he 
 .might be forever placed beyond the reach of Dem- 
 ocratic ingratitude." But the French general, 
 whose ambition was fixed on very different ob- 
 jects, declined the offer. To such a length, how- 
 ever, did the confidence of the two diplomatists 
 proceed, that Napoleon made Cobentzell ac- 
 quainted with his secret intention, at some future 
 period, of subverting the Directory. " An ar- 
 my," said he, " is assembled on the coast of the 
 Channel ostensibly for the invasion of England ; 
 but my real object is to march at its head to Paris, 
 and overturn that ridiculous government of lawyers, 
 "which cannot much longer oppress France. Be- 
 lieve me, two years will not elapse before that 
 preposterous scaffolding of a Republic will fall 
 to the ground. The Directory may maintain its 
 ground during peace, but it cannot withstand the 
 shock of war; and therefore it is that it is indis- 
 pensable that we should both occupy good posi- 
 tions." Cobentzell lost no time in making his 
 eabinet acquainted with these extraordinary rev- 
 elations, which were highly acceptable at Vien- 
 na, and furnish the true key to the great influ- 
 ence exercised by Napoleon over that govern- 
 ment during the remainder of his residence in 
 Europe prior to the Egyptian expedition.! 
 
 Great was the consternation in Germany when 
 at length it could no longer be concealed that the 
 line of the Rhine had been abandoned, and that 
 all the states on the left bank of that river were 
 to be sacrificed to the engrossing PLCpublic. It 
 ■was the more difficult for the Au.strian plenipo- 
 tentiaries at Rastadt to reconcile the dispossessed 
 
 * The emperor, in the secret articles, agreed that the Re- 
 publican frontiers should be advanced to the Rhine, and 
 stipulated that the imperial troops should take possession 
 of Venice on the same day on which the Republicans enter- 
 ed Mayence. He promised to use his inlluence to induce 
 the Empire to agree to that arrangement ; but if, notwith- 
 standing his endeavours, the Germanic States refused to ac- 
 cede to it, he engaged to employ no troops, exce[)ting the 
 contingent he was bound, as a member of the confederation, 
 to furnish, in any war which might ensue, and not even to 
 suffer them to be engaged in the defence of any fortified 
 place ; any violation of this last article was to be considered 
 as a sufficient ground for a resumption of hostilities against 
 Austria. Indemnities were to be obtained, if possible, for 
 the dispossessed princes on the left bank of the Rhine ; but 
 no acquisition was to he proposed for the benefit of Prussia." 
 — See the Secret Articles in Corresp. Conf. de Nap., vii., 
 287,292. 
 
 t Art. 12, 14, Secret Treaty. Corresp. Conf. de Nap., 
 ■vii., 291, 292. I Hard., v., 66, 70, 71. 
 
 Vol. 1. — B ebb 
 
 proprietors to this catastrophe, as the emperor 
 had officially announced to the Diet, shortly after 
 the conclusion of the armistice of Leoben, " that 
 an armistice had been concluded by the emperor 
 for the Empire on the base of the integrity of the 
 Germanic body." Remonstrances and petitions, 
 in con.sequence, rapidly succeeded each other, as 
 suspicions of the fate impending over them got 
 afloat, but without effect ; and soon the decisive 
 evidence of facts convinced the most incredu- 
 lous that a portion, at least, of the Empire had 
 been abandoned. Intelligence successively ar- 
 rived that Mayence had been surrendered to the 
 Republicans on the oOih of December, in pres- 
 ence of, and without opposition from, the Aus- 
 trian forces ; that Venice, stripped of all its rich- 
 es, had been abandoned to the Imperialists oa 
 the 15th of January ; and that tlie fort of the 
 Rhine, opposite Manheim, which refused to sur- 
 render to the summons of the Republican gener- 
 al, had been carried by assault on the !25thof the 
 same month ; while the Austrian forces, instead 
 of opposing any resistance, were evidently reti- 
 ring towards the frontiers of the hereditary states. 
 A universal stupor seized on the German peo- 
 ple when they beheld themselves thus abandon- 
 ed by their natural guardians, and the only ones 
 capable of rendering them any effectual protec- 
 tion ; and their deputies expressed themselves in 
 angry terms to the imperial plenipotentiaries on 
 the subject.* But M. Lehrbach replied, when 
 no longer able to conceal this dismemberment of 
 the Empire, "All the world is aware of the sac- 
 rifices which Au.stria has made during the war; 
 and that the misfortunes which have occurred 
 are nothing more than what she has uniformly 
 predicted would occur, if a cordial union of all 
 the Germanic States was not effected to maintain 
 their independence. Singly, she has made the 
 utmost efforts to maintain the integrity of the 
 Empire; she has exhausted all her resources in 
 the attempt ; if she has been unsuccessful, let 
 those answer for it who contributed nothing to- 
 wards the common cause." This defence was 
 perfectly j ust ; Austria had performed, and nobly 
 performed, her part as head of the Empire; its 
 dismemberment arose from the inaction of Prus- 
 sia, which, with an armed force of above two 
 hundred thousand men, and a revenue of nearly 
 i;6,000,000 sterling, had done nothing whatever 
 for the cause of Germany. It is not the cession, 
 of the left bank of the Rhine to France — it is the 
 spoliation of Venice which at this period forms 
 an indelible stain on the Austrian annals.t 
 
 After the cession of the line of the Rhine to 
 France was finally divulged, the attention of the 
 plenipotentiaries was chiefly directed to the 
 means of providing indemnities to the dispossess- 
 ed princes, and the Republican envoys had al- 
 ready broached their favourite project oi secular- 
 izations — in other words, indemnifying the lay 
 princes at the expense of the Church— when ah. 
 event occurred at Vienna which threatened to 
 produce an immediate explosion between the 
 two governments. Ofl. occasion of the anniver- 
 saiy of the general arming of the 4^1,3 .^gg 
 Vienna volunteers, on April 13, the Tumult'at'v:- 
 youth of that capital expressed a enna, and in- 
 strong desii'e to give vent to the ar- suit to the 
 dour of their patriotic feeling by a f^"^''^'"''^" 
 fete in honour of the glorious stand 
 then made by their countrymen. It was hazard- 
 ous to agree to such a proposal, as the French 
 
 * Hard., v., 78, < 
 
 t lb., vi., 433, 434, and vii., 6. 
 
562 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVI. 
 
 ambassador, General Bernadotte, had testified j 
 his repugnance to it, and declared his resolutiun, 
 if it was persisted in, to give a dinner in honour 
 of Democratic principles at his hotel. But the 
 Austrian govcinment could not withstand the 
 ■wishes of the defenders of the monarchy ; the 
 proposed /ete took place, and the French amba.s- 
 sador, in consequence, gave a great entertain- 
 ment to his friends, and hoisted an immense tri- 
 colour flag before his gate, with the words "Li- 
 berty, Egalite," inscribed upon it. The opposing 
 principles being thus brought into contact with 
 each other, a collision took place. The people 
 of Vienna conceived the conduct of the French 
 ■ambassador to be a direct insult offered to their 
 beloved emperor, and flocked in menacing crowds 
 to the neighbourhood of his hotel. The Aus- 
 trian authorities, seeing the popular exasperation 
 hourly increasing, in vain besought Bernadotte 
 to remove the obnoxious standard. He deemed 
 his own honour and that of the Republic pledged 
 to its being kept up, and at length the multitude 
 began to ascend ladders to break open the win- 
 dows. A pistol discharged by one of the servants 
 within, which wounded one of the assailants, 
 only increased the ferment ; the gates and win- 
 dows were speedily forced, the apartments pil- 
 laged, and the carriages in the yard broken to 
 pieces. Fifty thousand persons assembled in the 
 streets; and the French ambassador, barricaded 
 in one of the rooms of his hotel, was only deliv- 
 ered at one o'clock in the morning by two regi- 
 ments of cuirassiers which the imperial govern- 
 ment sent to his relief Justly indignant at this 
 disgraceful outrage, Bernadotte trans- 
 Aprii 15. jjjj[[g^ .several angry notes to the Aus- 
 trian cabinet ; and although they published a 
 proclamation on the following day, expressing 
 the deepest regret at the disorders which had oc- 
 curred, nothing would appease the exasperated 
 ambassador, and on the 1.5th he left Vienna, un- 
 der a numerous escort of cavalry, and took the 
 road for Rastadt.* 
 
 When matters were in this combustible state, 
 Cenferences ^ ^P^'^'^ °"'y '^'^^ required to light 
 opened at the conflagration. Conferences were 
 Seltz, which opened at Seltz, in Germany, where, 
 lead to no re- ^n the one hand, the Directory insist- 
 ■ ed on satisfaction for the insult offer- 
 
 ed to the ambassador of the Republic, and, on 
 the other, the emperor demanded an explanation 
 of the conduct of France in subduing, without the 
 shadow of a pretext, the Helvetic Confederacy, 
 and extending its dominion through the whole of 
 Italy. As the Austrians could obtain 
 Oct., 1/93. ^^ satisfaction on these points, the em- 
 peror drew more closely his bonds of intimacy 
 with the court of St. Petersburg, and the march 
 of the Russian armies through Gallicia and Mo- 
 ravia was hastened, while the military prepara- 
 tions of the Austrian monarchy proceeded with 
 redoubled activity.t 
 
 The negotiations at Rastadt for the settlement 
 Progress of the of the affairs of the Germanic Em- 
 negotiations at pire proceeded slowly towards an 
 Rastadt. adjustment; but their importance 
 
 disappeared upon the commencement of the more 
 weighty discussions involved in the Seltz con- 
 ferences. The French insisted upon a variety 
 'of articles, utterly inconsistent with the spirit of 
 the treaty of Campo Formio or the independence 
 of Gerniany. They first demanded all the isl- 
 
 ' Hard., T.. 13.'5. 493, 508. 
 
 t Th., I., 145, 146, 149. Jom., li., 8, 9. Lac, i., 341, 
 
 ands of the Rhine, which were of veiy great im- 
 portance in a military point of view; next, they 
 should be put in possession of Kehl and its ter- 
 ritory opposite to Strasburg, and Cassel and its 
 territory opposite to Mayence; then, that a piece 
 of ground, adequate to the lormation of a tele-dvr- 
 poiit, should be ceded to them at the German end 
 of the bridge of Huningen ; and, lastly, that the im- 
 portant fortress of Ehrenbreitstein should be de- 
 molished. The German deputation, on the other 
 hand, insisted that the principle of separation 
 should be that of the thalweg ; that is to say, of 
 the division of the valley by the middle of its 
 principal stream. As a consequence of this 
 principle, they refused to cede Kehl, Cassel, or 
 the tiU-du^pmit at Huningen, or to demolish the 
 fortifications of Ehrenbreitstein, all of which lay 
 on the German bank of the river. Subsequently, 
 the French commissioners admitted the principle 
 of the thalweg, consented to the demolition of Cas- 
 sel and Kehl, and the Germans agreed to that 
 of Ehrenbreitstein; but the Republicans insist- 
 ed on the cession of the island of Petersaw, which 
 would have given them the means of crossing op- 
 posite that important point. Matters 
 were in this unsettled state when they ''''' ' ' 
 were interrupted by the march of the Russian 
 troops through Moravia. The French govern- 
 ment, upon that, issued a note, in which they de- 
 clared that they would consider the crossing of 
 the Germanic frontier by that army as equiva- 
 lent to a declaration of war; and as their advance 
 continued without interruption, the negotiations 
 at P^astadt virtually came to an end.* 
 
 Seeing themselves seriously menaced with an 
 armed resistance to their project for 
 subjugating all the adjoining states ™';;^,i „j- 
 by means of exciting revolutions in the Director,' 
 their bosom, the Directory at length to meet the 
 began to adopt measures to make approaching 
 head against the danger. The finan- °*" ""'^' 
 ces of the Republic were in a most alarming state. 
 Notwithstanding the confiscation of two thirds 
 of the national debt, it was discovered that there 
 would be a deficit of 200,000,000 francs, or above 
 £8,000,000 sterling, in the returns of the year. 
 New taxes, chiefly on doors and windows, were 
 imposed, and a decree passed, authorizing na- 
 tional domains, to the value of 125,000,000 of.' 
 francs, or £5,000,000 sterling, to be taken from 
 the public creditors, to whom they had been sur- 
 rendered in liquidation of their claims, and the 
 property of the whole Protestant clergy to be con- 
 fiscated to the service of the state :t thus putting, 
 to support their revolutionarj^ conquests, the last 
 hand to their revolutionary confiscations. 
 
 It remained to adopt some method for the aug- 
 mentation of the army, which had ^joptjon ^f 
 been extremely diminished by sick- the law of the 
 ness and desertion since the peace of conscription 
 Campo Formio. The skeletons of I'y'he Legis- 
 
 , r . . lalure. 
 
 the regiments and the non-commis- 
 sioned officers remained ; but the ranks exhibited 
 large chasms, which the existing state of the law 
 provided no means of supplying. The conven- 
 tion, notwithstanding their energy, had made no 
 permanent proA'ision for recruiting the army, but 
 had contented themselves with two levies, one of. 
 300,000, and one of 1 ,200,000 men, which, with the 
 voluntar}' supplies since furnished by the patriot- 
 ism or sufl:ering of the people, had' been found 
 adequate to the wants of the state. But, now that, 
 
 * Jom., xi., 27, 28. Th., x., 154, 15". TTard., vi.. 371, 
 383. t .lorn., xi., 25, 26. 
 
1798.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 563 
 
 the revolutionary ferrour had subsided, and a 
 necessity existed for finding a perinaneni supply 
 ol'suldiers to meet the wars into wliich tiie insa- 
 tiable ambition ol' the government liatl plunged 
 the country, some lasting resource became indis- 
 pensable. To meet the didiculty, General Jour- 
 dan proposed the law ol'the Conscription, wliich 
 became one of the most important consequences 
 ol'the Revolution. By this decree, every French- 
 man from twenty to iorty-live years of age was 
 declared amenable to military service. Those 
 liable to serve were divided into classes, accord- 
 ing to the years of their birth, and the govern- 
 ment were authorized to call out the youngest, 
 second, or third class, according to the exigen- 
 
 cies of tlie times. The conscription 
 Sept. 28, 1,98. ^^^^ ^^ ^^|.g ^j^^^g ^y j^j^ -j^ ^j^g ^.j^^^^ 
 
 from which it was directed to be taken.* This 
 law was immediately adopted ; and the first levy 
 of two hundred thousand men from France or- 
 dered to be immediately enforced, while eighteen 
 thousand men were required from the athliated 
 republic of Switzerland, and the like number 
 from that of Holland. 
 Thus the justice of Heaven made the revo- 
 lutionary passions of France the 
 Uiisevenu"" '^^^^^^s of working out their own 
 punishment. The atrocious aggres- 
 sion on Switzerland, the flames of Underwalden, 
 
 the subjugation of Italy, were registered in the 
 book of fate, and brought about a dreadful and 
 lasting retribution. Not the bayonets of tiie al- 
 lies, not the defence of their country, occasioned 
 this lasting scourge ; the invasion of other states, 
 the cries of injured innocence, first brought it 
 into existence. They fixed upon its infatuated 
 people that terrible law, which soon carried mis- 
 ery into every cottage, and bathed with tears ev- 
 ery mother in France. Wide as had been the 
 spread of the national sin, as wide was the iaslx 
 of national punishment. By furnishing an al- 
 most inexhaustible supply of military popula- 
 tion, u fanned the spirit of universal conquest, 
 and precipitated its people into the bloody career 
 of Napoleon. It produced that terrible contest 
 which, after exhausting the resources, brought 
 about the subjugation of that great kingdom, and 
 wrung from its infuriated, but not repentant in- 
 habitants, what they themselves have styled tears 
 of blood.* It is thus that Providence vindicates 
 its superintendence of the moral world ; that the 
 guilty career of nations, equally as that of indi- 
 viduals, brings down upon itself a righteous pun- 
 ishment; and that we feel, amid all the sins of 
 rulers or madness of the people, the truth of ihe 
 sublime words of Scripture, " Ephraim is joined 
 to idols : let him alone." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 CIVIL HISTORY OP PRANCE FROM THE REVOLUTION OF 18tH FRUCTIDOR TO THB SEIZURE OF Sff- 
 
 PREME POWER BY NAPOLEON. 
 
 SEPTEMBER, 1797 — NOVEMBER, 1799. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 .\.pathy of the Public Mind after the Revolution of 18th 
 Fructidor. — Extreme Uifliculties of Government since that 
 Event. — Universal Dissatisfaction after the new Elections 
 in Sprinj, 1799. — Restoration of the Lilierty of the Press. 
 — Formation of a League against the Government. — 
 Measures uf the Opposition. — Revolution of 30th Prairial. 
 — Characterof the New Directory. — Fresh Ministerial Ap- 
 pointments. — Efforts of the Jacoljins to revive the Revolu- 
 tionary Spirit, which totally fail. — Forced Loan and Levy 
 of 200,000 Men decreed by the Councils. — Anarchy of the 
 Provinces. — Cruel Law of the Hostages. — Insurrection in 
 Brittany and La Vendue. — Great Severity in the Collec- 
 tion of the Forced Loan. — Success of the Military Con- 
 scription. — Increased Violence of the Jacobins. — Fouche 
 is appointed Minister of Police. — His Character and Con- 
 servative Desi(;ns. — He closes the Jacobin Club. — Vio- 
 lence of the Daily Press. — Attack on the Journalists by the 
 Directory. — Their continued vigorous Measures against 
 the Jacobins. — Deplorable State of France at this Period. 
 — Arrival of Napoleon at Frejus. — Universal Enthusiasm 
 which it excites. — His Journey, and Arrival at I'aris. — 
 Reception there by the Directory. — Previous Intrigues of 
 Barras and Si^yes with Louis XVIII. — Junction of the 
 Maleconteuts of all Parties to support Napoleon. — Pro- 
 found Dissimulation of his Conduct. — His Efforts to gain 
 Gohicr and Moulins, who refuse. — After much Hesita- 
 tion, he resolves to join Si<*yes. — Measures resolved on. — 
 He tries in vain to gain Bernadotte. — Progress of the Con- 
 spiracy. — Great Banquet at the Hall of the Ancients. — 
 Preparations of the Conspirators at the Council of the 
 Ancients. — Efforts of Napoleon with all Parties. ^The 
 ]8th Brumaire. — Meeting of all the Conspirators in the 
 Rue Chantereine. — Napoleon's Address to the Ancients. 
 — Resignation of some of the Directory, Arrest of others. 
 — Napoleon, Si^yes, and Roger Ducos are appointed Con- 
 suls.— The I'.Hh Brumaire at St. Cloud.— Excessive Ve- 
 hemence in the Council of Five .Hundred. — Imminent 
 Danger of Napoleon, who enters the Hall of the Ancients, i 
 — His Speech there. — He enters the Hall of the Five 
 Hundred. — Frightful Disorder there. — Intrepid Conduct 
 of Lucien. — Dissolution of the Five Hundred by an armed 
 
 * Jom., xi., 23, 24. Th., x., 183, 184. 
 
 Force. — Nocturnal Meeting of the Conspirators in the Or- 
 angery. — Their Decrees. — Joy in Paris at these Events. — 
 General Satisfaction which they diffused through the 
 Country. — Clemency of Napoleon after his Victory. — 
 Formation of a Constitution. — Napoleon is appointed Firsb 
 Consul. — Outlines of the New Constitution. — Appoint- 
 ments in Administration made by Napoleon. — Venality of 
 Si^yes. — Immense Majority of the People who approved 
 of the New Constitution. — Reflections on the Accession, 
 of Napoleon to the Consular Throne. — Durable Liberty 
 had been rendered impossible in France by the Destruc- 
 tion of the Aristocracy and Clergy. — Disastrous Effects 
 of the Irreligion of that Country. — Prodigious Effects of 
 the Centralization of Power introduced Ijy the Revolu- 
 tion. — Distinction between the safe and dangerous Spirit: 
 of Freedom. — Immense Impulse which the Changes re- 
 sulting from the Revolution have given to the Spread of 
 Christianity over the World. 
 
 The Revolution of France had run through 
 the usual course of universal enthusiasm, gen- 
 eral suffering, plebeian revolt, bloody anarchy, 
 Democratic cruelty, and military despotism. 
 There remained a last stage to which it had not 
 yet arrived, but which, nevertheless, was neces- 
 sary to tame the passions of the people, and re- 
 construct the fabric of society out of^ the ruined 
 fragments of former civilization. This stage was 
 that of a SINGLE despot, and to this final result 
 the weakness consequent on exhausted passion 
 was speedily bringing the country. 
 
 To the fervour of Democratic license there in- 
 variably succeeds in a f-ew years a ^ ^ ft^, 
 period of languor and hstlessness, public mind 
 of blighted hope and disappointed after the Rev- 
 ambition, of despair at the calami- oiutionof I8tli 
 tons results of previous changes, and ''^"'^'' *"^' 
 heedlessness to everything but the gratification 
 
 ' Sav., iv., 362. 
 
564 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVII. 
 
 of selfish passion. The energetic, the ardent, 
 the enthusiastic, have for the most part sunk un- 
 der the contests of former faction ; few remain 
 but the base and calculating, who, by .stooping 
 before the storms under which their more elevated 
 rivals perished, have contrived to survive their 
 fall. This era is that of public degradation, of 
 external disaster and internal suflering ; and in 
 the despair of all classes, it prepares the way for 
 the return to a more stable order of things. 
 
 The external disasters, which had accumulated 
 Extreme difli- ^^P^^ ^^^ Republic rapidly since the 
 cullies of gov- commencement of hostilities, of 
 «rnment since which an account wiU be given in 
 that event. jjjg ^g-j^t chapter, could hardly have 
 failed to overturn a government so dependant on 
 the fleeting gales of popular favour as that of 
 the Directory, even if it had not been tainted by 
 the inherent vice of having been established by 
 the force of military power, in opposition to the 
 ■wishes of the nation and the forms of the Consti- 
 tution. But this cause had for long been pre- 
 paring its downfall, and the removal of the armies 
 to the frontier, upon the resumption of hostilities, 
 rendered it impossible any longer to stifle the pub- 
 lic voice. That inevitable scourge of all revo- 
 lutionary states, embarrassment of finance, had, 
 since the revolution of the I8th Fructidor, im- 
 peded all their operations. Notwithstanding the 
 confiscation of two thirds of the public debt, it 
 ■was found impossible, in the succeeding season, 
 to pay the interest on the third which remained, 
 without recurring to fresh expedients. The 
 ' ' deficit on the year was announced by the 
 minister of finance as amounting to at least 
 63,000,000 francs, or i;2,520,000 ; it was known 
 to amount to nearly 100,000,000, and the taxes 
 were levied slowly and with extreme difficulty. 
 To meet the deficiency, the duty on doors and 
 ■windows was doubled ; that on carriages raised 
 tenfold, and the eifects of the Protestant clergy 
 ■were confiscated, putting them, like the Catho- 
 lics, on the footing of payment from government. 
 Thus the Revolution, as it advanced, was suc- 
 cessively swallowing up the property even of 
 the humblest in the community.* 
 
 The new elections of a third of the Legislature, 
 an March 1799, were conducted with greater or- 
 der and freedom than any which had preceded 
 them, because the army, the great support of the 
 Directory, was for the most part removed, and 
 the violence used on previous occasions to secure 
 the return could not so easily be put in force. A 
 large proportion of representatives, accordingly, 
 ■were returned adverse to the government estab- 
 lished by the bayonets of Augereau, and waited 
 •only for an opportunity to displace it from the 
 helm. It fell to Rewbell's lot to retire from the 
 Directory, and Sieyes was chosen by the two 
 councils in his stead. The people were already 
 dissatisfied with the administration of affairs, 
 •when the disasters at the commencement of the 
 campaign came to blow the flame into a confla- 
 gration.t 
 
 After these events, the public indignation 
 Universal dis- could no longer be restrained. Com- 
 satisfaction plaints broke out on all sides ; the 
 after the new conduct of the War, the management 
 elections. of the finances, the tyranny exercised 
 over the elections, the arbitrary dispersion of the 
 chambers, the iniquitous removal of nearly one 
 half of the deputies, the choice of the generals, 
 
 * Th., I., 214, 215. Miff., ii., 442. 
 t Lac., xiv., 351, 352. Th., i., 260. 
 
 the direction of the armies, all were made the 
 subject of vehement and impassioned invective. 
 The old battalions, it was said, had been left in 
 the interior to overawe the elections; the best 
 generals were in irons; Championnet, the con- 
 queror of Naples, had been dismissed for stri- 
 ving to repress the rapacity of the inferior agents 
 of the Directory; Moreau, the commander in, 
 so glorious a retreat, was reduced to the rank o£ 
 a general of division, and Scherer, unknown to 
 fame, had been invested with the command of 
 the army of Italy. Even measures which had 
 formerly been the object of general praise, were 
 now condemned in no measured terras ; the 
 expedition to Egypt, it was discovered, had 
 given an eccentric direction to the best general 
 and bravest army of the Republic, and provoked 
 the hostility at once of the Sublime Porte and 
 the Emperor of Russia, while the attack on 
 Switzerland was an unjustifiable invasion of 
 neutral rights, which necessarily aroused the in- 
 dignation of all the European powers, and brought 
 on a war which the government had made no 
 preparations to withstand. These complaints 
 were, in a great degree, well founded ; but they 
 would never have been heard if the fortune of 
 war had proved favourable, and the Republican 
 armies, instead of being thrown back on their 
 own frontiers, had been following the career of 
 victory into the imperial states. But the Direc- 
 toiy now experienced the truth of the saying of 
 Tacitus: " Haec est bellorum pessima conditio: 
 Prospera omnes sibi vindicant, adversa uni solo 
 imputantur."* 
 
 In the midst of this general eflfervescence, the 
 restraints imposed on the liberty of Restoration of 
 the press after the revolution of the the liberty of 
 18th Fructidor could no longer be ^^^ press, 
 maintained. The armed force which had im- 
 posed and kept them on was wanting ; the sol- 
 diers were almost all combating on the frontier. 
 They were, accordingly, no longer enforced 
 against the daily journals, and the universal in- 
 dignation speedily spread to the periodical press. 
 In every quarter, in the newspapers, the tribune, 
 the pamphlets, the clubs, nothing was to be heard 
 but declamations against the government. The 
 parties who had alternately felt the weight of 
 their vengeance, the Royalists and the Jacobins, 
 vied with each other in inveighing against their 
 imbecility and want of foresight, while the sol- 
 diers, hitherto their firmest support, gave open 
 vent to their indignation at the " Adv^ocates" who 
 had brought back the Republican standards to 
 the Alps and the Rhine.t 
 
 A league was speedily formed against the gov- 
 ernment, at the head of which were Formation of a 
 Generals Joubert and Augereau. leag-ue against 
 Barras, though a director, entered Hie govern- 
 into the plan, and gave it the weight ™''"'^- 
 of his reputation, or, rather, his revolutionary au- 
 dacity and vigour. It was agreed that no ques- 
 tions should be brought forward, until the obnox- 
 ious directors were removed, as to the form of 
 government which should succeed them ; and the 
 three directors, Lareveillere Lepaux, Treilhard, 
 and Merlin de Douai, were marked out for de- 
 struction. The conspiracy was far advanced 
 when the misfortunes in Italy and on the Rhine 
 gave tenfold force to the public discontent, and 
 deprived the government of all means of resist- 
 ance. The departments in the south, now threat- 
 
 * Lac, liv., 352, 353. Th., x., 260, 201. Dnm., i., 220, 
 221. t Tli., X., 268. Lac, xiv., 354. Goh., i., 96. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 565 
 
 ened with invasion from the allied army, were 
 in a state of extreme fermentation, and sent dep- 
 utations to the councils, who painted in the most 
 Kvely colours the destitute state of the troops, 
 the consternation of the provinces, the vexations 
 of the people, the injustice done to the generals, 
 and the indignation of the soldiers. The nomi- 
 nation of Sieyes to the Directory was the most 
 convincing proof of the temper of the councils, 
 as lie had always and openly expressed his dis- 
 like at the Constitution and the directorial gov- 
 ernment. To elect him was to proclaim, as it 
 were, that they desired a revolution.* 
 
 Sieyes soon became the head of the conspira- 
 tors, who thus numbered among 
 ^roppo'uoa. their ranks two directors and a 
 great majority oi both councils. It 
 was no longer their object to remodel the Consti- 
 tution, but to gain immediate possession of the 
 reins of power, in order to extricate the country 
 from the perilous situation in which it was pla- 
 ced. For this purpose they refused all accom- 
 modation or consultation with the three devoted 
 directors, while the most vehement attacks 
 were made on them in both councils. The dis- 
 astrous state of the finances atforded too fair an 
 opportunity for invective. Out of 400,000,000 
 francs already consumed in the public service 
 for the year 1799, not more than "210,000,000 
 francs had been received by the treasury, and the 
 arrears were coming in very slowly. Various 
 new taxes were voted by the councils, but it was 
 apparent to every one that their collection, under 
 the present system, was impossible. A still 
 more engrossing topic was afforded by the dis- 
 cussions on the proposed alteration of the law 
 on the liberty of the press and the popular soci- 
 eties, in order to take away from the Directory 
 the arbitrary power with which they had been 
 invested by the law of the 19th Fructidor. The 
 Democrats exclaimed that it was indispensable 
 to electrify the public mind, that the country was 
 in the same danger as in 1793, and that the 
 same means must be, taken to meet it ; that every 
 species of patriotism would speedily expire if the 
 clubs were not reopened, anci unlimited freedom 
 allowed to the press. Without joining in this 
 Democratic fervour, the R,oyalists and Constitu- 
 tionalists concurred with them in holding that 
 the Directory had made a bad use of the dicta- 
 torial power given to them by the revolution of 
 18th Fructidor, and that the restoration of the 
 popular clubs had become indispensable. So 
 general a concord among men of such dissimilar 
 opinions on all other subjects, announced the 
 .speedy fall of the government. t 
 
 The first measures of the conspirators were 
 _ opened by a message from the dif- 
 
 3o7h Pminal. ^^rent commissions of the councils, 
 presented by Boulay de la Meurthe, 
 in which they insisted upon being informed of 
 the causes of the exterior and interior dangers 
 which threatened the state, and the means of 
 averting them which existed. The Directory, 
 upon receiving this message, endeavoured to 
 gain time, by promising to give an answer in 
 detail, which required several days to prepare. 
 But this was by no means what the Revolution- 
 ists intended. After waiting a fortnight without 
 receiving any answer, the councils, on the rec- 
 ommendation of their committees of war, ex- 
 penditure, and finance, agreed to declare their 
 
 * Miprn., ii., 442, 443. Lac., xiv., 353, 355. Th., x., 268, 
 274, :u,d 310. 
 t Th., X., 313, 317. MigTi., ii., 417. Lac, xiv., 355. 
 
 sittings permanent till an answer to the message 
 was obtained, and the three committees were 
 constituted in a single commission of elevea 
 members; in other words, a provisional gov- 
 ernment. The Directory, on their part, also de- 
 clared their sittings permanent, and everything 
 seemed to presage a fierce conllict. The com- 
 mission dexterously availed themselves of the 
 circumstance that Treilhard, who for thirteea 
 months had been in the Directory, had been ap- 
 pointed four days before the legal period, and in- 
 stantly proposed that his nomination should be 
 annulled. Lareveillere, who was gifted with 
 great political firmness, in vain strove to induce 
 Treilhard to resist ; he saw his danger, and re- 
 solved to yield to the storm. He accordingly 
 sent in his resignation, and Gohier, a vehement 
 Republican, but a man of little political capacity, 
 though an able writer, was named by the coun- 
 cils in his stead.* 
 
 The victory was gained, because this change 
 gave the couucils a majority in the Directory ; 
 but Lareveillere was still firm in his refusal to. 
 resign. After exhausting every engine of flat- 
 tery, threats, entreaties, and promises, Barras at 
 length broke up the conference by de- 
 claring, " Well, then, it is all over; the nyy."*''^'- 
 sabres must be drawn." "Wretch!" ex- 
 claimed Lareveillere, " is it you that speak of 
 sabres 1 There is nothing here but knives, and 
 they are all directed against those virtuous citi- 
 zens whom you wish to murder, because yoa 
 cannot induce them to degrade themselves." 
 But a single individual could not 30tj, pra' al 
 withstand the Legislature : he yielded 
 at length to the entreaty of a deputation front 
 the councils, and sent in his resignation during- 
 the night. His example was immediately fol- 
 lowed by Merlin ; and General Moulins and 
 Roger Ducos were appointed as successors to 
 the expelled directors. t 
 
 Thus the government of the Directory was 
 overturned in less than four years after its first 
 establishment, and in twenty months after it had^ 
 by a violent stretch of illegal force, usdrped dic- 
 tatorial powers. The people of Paris took no 
 part in this subversion of their rulers, which was 
 effected by the force of the national assemblies 
 illegally directed. Revolutionary fervour had 
 exhausted itself; and an event which, six years- 
 before, would have convulsed France from one 
 extremity to the other, passed over with hardly 
 more agitation than a change of ministers in a 
 constitutional monarchy. t 
 
 The violent measures, however, which had 
 dispossessed the government, were character of 
 far from bringing to the helm of af- the new Di- 
 fairs any accession either of vigour rectory, 
 or ability. The new Directory, composed, like 
 the councils, of men of opposite principles, was 
 even less qualified than that which had preceded 
 it to make head against the tempest, both with- 
 out and within, which assailed the state. Sieyes, 
 the only man among them of a superior intellect, 
 dreamed of nothing but a new political organi- 
 zation of society, and had none of the qualities 
 fitted to struggle with the misfortunes of a sink- , 
 ing stale. R.oger Ducos, an old Girondist, was 
 merely his creature, and unfit to direct any de- 
 partment of the Republic. Moulins, an obscure 
 general, but a vehement Republican, had been 
 nominated by the Jacobin party to uphold their 
 
 * Th., X., 322. Mign.,ii., 443. 
 
 t Th., X., 326, 32S. Lac, xiv., 356. MisTi., ii., 443. 
 
 i Lac, XIV., 359. Th,, i., 330. De Sta5J, li., 223, 224. 
 
566 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXTIL 
 
 interests in the government, and being unknown 
 to the armies, possessed none of the influence 
 with the military so necessaiy to revive their 
 I'ormer spirit. Barras was the only man capa- 
 ble of giving any effectual assistance to the ad- 
 ministration ; but he %vas so much xmder the 
 influence of his passions and his vices, and had 
 taken so many and such contradictory parts in 
 the course of the Revolution, that no reliance 
 could be placed on his assistance. After having 
 been a violent Jacobin after the Revolution of 
 the 3lst of May, a leading Thermidorian after 
 the fall of Robespierre, a Revolutionary director 
 on the I8th Fructidor, and a vehement enemy 
 of his ancient colleagues on the 30th Prairial, 
 he now became a Royalist director, elected to 
 withstand the principles of Democracy which 
 had so often elevated him to power. Gohier was 
 sincere and honest in his intentions, but he was 
 an infatuated Republican, who, amid the gener- 
 al wreck of its institutions, was dreaming only 
 of the social compact and the means of averting 
 a counter revolution. From the moment of their 
 installation, their sentiments on most subjects 
 were found to be at so much variance, that it 
 was evident no cordial co-operation could be ex- 
 pected among them.* 
 
 The first and most pressing necessity was to 
 New ministe- Stem the torrent of disaster which 
 rial appoint- had overwhelmed the armies of the 
 ments. Republic. Immediately after the 
 
 change in the government, news arrived of the 
 forcing of the lines of Zurich ; and, before the 
 consternation which it occasioned had subsided, 
 it was followed by intelligence of the battle of 
 the Trebbia, and the evacuation of the ridge of 
 the Apennines. These disasters rendered it ab- 
 solutely necessary to take some steps to restore 
 the public confidence, and for this purpose a great 
 change was made in the military commanders 
 of the Pcepublic. Championnet, who had been 
 thrown into prison for evading the orders of the 
 Directory regarding the pillage of the Neapoli- 
 tan dominions, was liberated from his fetters, and 
 received the command of an army which it was 
 proposed to establish along the line of the high- 
 er Alps; Bernadotte, from whose activity great 
 results were justly expected, was appointed min- 
 ister at war; and Joubert, whose exploits in the 
 Tyrol had gained for him a brilliant reputation, 
 nominated to the command of the shattered army 
 of Italy.t 
 
 The overthrow of the government was the sig- 
 Efforts of the ^^^ ^^^ '^^ issuing of the Jacobins 
 Jacobiiis to re- from their retreats, and the recom- 
 Tive the revo- mencemeut of revolutionary agita- 
 lutionarfjpirit. ^qj,, with all the perilous schemes 
 of Democratic ambition. Everywhere the clubs 
 were reopened ; the Jacobins took possession of 
 the Riding-school Hall, where the debates of the 
 Constituent Assembly had been held, and began 
 again to pour forth those impassioned declama- 
 tions from which such streams of blood had al- 
 ready taken their rise. Taught by former disas- 
 ters, however, they abstained from demanding any 
 sanguinary proceedings, and confined themselves 
 to a strenuous support of an agrarian law, and 
 those measures for the division of property to 
 which BahcEuf had fallen a victim. The lead- 
 ing members of the councils attended their meet- 
 ings, and swelled the ardent multitudes who al- 
 ready crowded their assemblies, flattering them- 
 
 * Th..x., 331, 332. Lac, liv., 358, 360, 361. mgn.,ii., 
 446. Goh. Mem., i., 104. 
 
 t Th., X., 333. Jom., Vie de Nap., i., 361. 
 
 selves, even in the decrepitude of the revolution- 
 ary fervour, with the hopeless idea that they 
 would succeed in directing the torrent.* 
 
 But the times were no longer the same, and it 
 was impossible in 1799 to revive the 
 general enthusiasm which ten years be- ^^ij""? J"" 
 fore had intoxicated every head in '^ ^ ^' • 
 France. The people had not forgotten the Reign 
 of Terror, and the dreadful calamities which had 
 followed the ascendant of the Jacobins; they re- 
 ceived their promises without joy, without illu- 
 sion, and listened with undisguised anxiety to 
 the menaces which they dealt out to all who op- 
 posed their designs. Their apathy threw the Jac- 
 obins into despair, who were well aware that, 
 without the aid of the populace, they would be 
 unable to overturn what yet remained of the fab- 
 ric of society. '• We cannot twice," said the cit- 
 izens, "go through the same fiery ordeal; the 
 Jacobins have no longer the power of the assig- 
 nats at their command ; the illusion of the peo- 
 ple has been dispelled by their sufferings; the 
 army regards their rule with horror." The re- 
 spectable citizens, worn out with convulsions, 
 and apprehensive beyond everj'thing of a return 
 to the yoke of the multitude, sighed for the res- 
 toration of a stable government, and were prepa- 
 red to rally round any leader who would subject 
 the passions of the Revolution to the yoke of des- 
 potic power.t 
 
 To supply the enormous and daily increasing 
 deficit in the public treasury, the „ , , 
 
 T^ 1 i- • . ■ . • J .u .. -^ rorced loan, 
 
 Revolutionists maintained that it ^^^^ con.scnp- 
 was indispensable to recur to the tion of 200,000 
 energy and patriotic measures of men decreed by 
 1793 ; to call into active service all "'^ councils, 
 the classes of the state, and levy a forced loan 
 of 120,000,000 of francs, or i:4,800,000, upon the 
 opulent classes, increasing in severity with the 
 fortunes of those from whom it was to be ex- 
 tracted. After long debates, this arbitrar}- meas- 
 ure was adopted ; and, at the same time, a con- 
 scription of two hundred thousand men ordered, 
 to recruit the armies. These vigorous measures 
 promised, in the course of time, to procure a 
 great supply for the public necessities; but in 
 the mean while the danger was imminent, and 
 it was much to be feared that the frontiers would 
 be invaded before any efiicient support could be af- 
 forded to the armies intrusted with their defence.; 
 What rendered every measure for the supply 
 either of the army or the treasuiy dif- 
 ficult of execution, was the complete ^""f^^y "^ 
 
 ,. , . ' 1 . 1 ^1 ' the provinces, 
 state 01 anarchy into which the prov- 
 inces had fallen, and the total absence of all au- 
 thority from the time that the troops had been 
 removed to the frontier. The Vendeans and 
 Chouans had, in the west, broken into fearful 
 activity ; the Companies of the Sun renewed their 
 excesses in the south, and everywhere the refrac- 
 tory conscripts, forming themselves into bands of 
 robbers, occupied the forests, and pillaged trav- 
 ellers and merchandise of every description along 
 the highways. To such a height had these dis- 
 orders, the natural and inevitable consequence 
 of a revolution, ari.sen, that in most of the de- 
 partments there was no longer any authority 
 obeyed or order maintained, but the strong pil- 
 laged the weak with impunity, as in the rudest 
 ages. In these circumstances, a law, 
 named the law of the hostages, was [^"e^hosi^e^ 
 proposed and carried in the councils, ^ 
 
 * Lac, x]v., 358. Mign.. ii., 445. 
 
 t Lac, XIV., 358, 359. Th.. x., 332, 333. 
 
 t Th.. X., 336, 337. Jom., Vie de Nap., i., 362. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 5C7 
 
 and remains a singular and instructive monu- 
 ment of the desperate tyranny to which those are 
 in the end reduced who adventure on the peril- 
 ous course of Democratic innovation. Proceed- 
 ing on the supposition, at once arbitrary and un- 
 founded, that the relations of the emigrants were 
 the sole cause of the disorders, they enacted that, 
 ■whenever a commune fell into a notorious state 
 ©f anarchy, the relations of emigrants, and all 
 tho.se known to have been at all connected with 
 the ancient rdginic, should be seized as hostages, 
 and that four of them should be tmn.sporkd for 
 every assassination that was committed in that 
 district, and their property be rendered liable for 
 all acts of robbery which there occurred. But 
 this law, inhuman as it was, proved wholly in- 
 adequate to restore order in this distracted coun- 
 try; and France was menaced with an anarchy 
 so much the more terrible than that of 1793, as 
 the Committee of Public Safety was wanting, 
 whose iron arm, supported by victory, had then 
 crushed it in its grasp.* 
 
 The disturbances in the western provinces, 
 fasurrectioa during this paralysis of the authority 
 in Brittany of government, had again risen to the 
 and La Ven- most formidable height. That un- 
 **"'*• conquerable band, the Vendeans and 
 
 Chouans, whom the utmost disasters could nev- 
 er completely subdue, had yielded only a tempo- 
 rary submission to the energetic and able meas- 
 ures of General Hoche, and with the arrival of 
 less skilful leaders of the Republican forces, and 
 the increasing weakness of government, their 
 activity again led them to insurrection. This 
 fresh outbreak of the insurrection was chiefly 
 owing to the cruel and unnecessary persecutions 
 which the director Lareveillere Lepaux kept 
 Kp against the priests ; and it soon rose to the 
 most formidable height. In March, 1799, the 
 spirit of Chouanism, besides its native depart- 
 ments in Brittany, had spread to La Vendee, and 
 the Republic beheld with dismay the fresh break- 
 ing out of that terrible volcano. Chollet, Mon- 
 taigne, Herhiers, names immortalized in those 
 wonderful wars, were again signalized by the 
 successes of tlie Royalists; and the flame, spread- 
 ing farther than the early victories of the Vende- 
 ans, menaced Touraine.t Bourmoxt, after- 
 ward conqueror of Algiers, a chief of great abil- 
 ity, revenged in Mans the bloody catastrophe of 
 the Royalist army; and Godet de Chatillon, af- 
 ter a brilliant victory, entered in triumph into 
 Nantes, which had, six years before, defeated 
 the utmost efibrts of the grand array under Ca- 
 thelineau. 
 
 Nor did the financial measures of government 
 Great severity inspire less dread than the external 
 in the collec- diasters and internal disorders which 
 tion uf the for- overwhelmed the country. The for- 
 ced loaa. ggd jgg^jj ^y-as levied with the last se- 
 verity ; and, as all the fortunes of the Royalists 
 had been extinguished in the former convulsions, 
 it now fell on those classes who had been en- 
 riched by the Revolution, and thus spread a 
 universal panic through its most opulent sup- 
 porters. They now felt the severity of the con- 
 fiscation which they had inflicted on others. The 
 ascending scale, according to which it was lev- 
 ied, rendered it especially obnoxious. No fixed 
 rule was adopted for the increase, according to 
 the fortune of the individual, but everjnhing was 
 left to the tax-gatherers, who proceeded on secret 
 
 * Th., X., 337. 338.' Mign., li., 446. Goh., i., 62, 66, and 
 Jora., Vie de Nap., i., 364. 
 
 t Lac.,xiv.,366,369. Beauch., iu., 120, 349. Goh., i., 66. 
 
 and frequently false information. In these cir- 
 cumstances, the opulent found their whole in- 
 come disappearing,' under a single exaction. The 
 tax voted was l'JU,000,UOO francs, or jLl,bUO,000; 
 but in the exhausted state ol' the country, it was 
 impossible to raise this sum, and specie, under 
 the dread of arbitrary exactions, entirely disap- 
 peared from circulation. lis collection took 
 three years, and then only realized tiiree fourths 
 of its amount.* The three per cents, consolida- 
 ted, that melancholy relic of former bankruptcy, 
 had fallen to six per coU. on the remnant of a 
 third, which the great confiscation of 1797 had 
 lelt ; little more than a siztidh part of the for- 
 mer value of the stock at the commencement of 
 the Revolution. 
 
 The executive were more successful in their 
 endeavours to recruit the military Successor the 
 forces of the Republic. Under the military con- 
 able and vigorous management of scnption. 
 Bernadotte, the conscription proceeded with great 
 activity, and soon a hundred thousand young 
 men were enrolled and disciplined at the depots 
 in the interior of the country. These conscripts 
 were no sooner instructed in the rudiments of 
 the military art, than they were marched off" to 
 the frontier, where they rendered essential ser- 
 vice to the cause of national independence. It 
 was the re-enforceraents thus obtained which 
 enabled Massena to extricate the Republic from 
 extreme peril at the battle of Zurich ; and it was 
 in their ranks that Napoleon, in the following 
 year, found the greater part of those dauntless 
 followers who scaled the barrier of the Great 
 St. Bernard, and descended like a thunderbolt 
 on the plain of Marengo.t 
 
 While the Republic, after ten years of convul- 
 sions, was fast relapsing into that increased vio- 
 state of disorder and weakness lence of the 
 which is at once the consequence Jacobins, 
 and punishment of revolutionary violence, the 
 hall of the Jacobins resounded with furious dec- 
 lamations against all the members of the Direc- 
 tory, and the whole .system which in every coun- 
 try has been considered as the basis of social 
 union. The separation of property was, in an 
 especial manner, the object of invective, and 
 the agrarian law, which Babceuf had bequeath- 
 ed to the last Democrats of the Revolution, uni- 
 versally extolled as the perfection of society. 
 Felix Lepelletier, Arena, Drouet, and all the fu- 
 rious Revolutionists of the age, were there as- 
 sembled, and the whole atrocities of 1793 speed- 
 ily held up for applause and imitation. They 
 celebrated the manes of the victims shot on the 
 plain of Grenelle, demanded in loud terms the 
 instant punishment of all " the leeches who lived 
 on the blood of the people, the general disarm- 
 ing of the Royalists, a levy en masse, the estab- 
 lishment of manufactures of arms on the public 
 places, and the restoration of their cannon and 
 pikes to the inhabitants of the fauxbourgs. These 
 ardent feelings were roused into a perfect fury 
 when the news amved of the battle of Novi and 
 the retreat of the army of Italy over the Alps. 
 Talleyrand became, in an especial manner, the 
 object of attack. He was accused of having 
 projected the expedition to Egypt, the cause of 
 all the public disasters; Moreau was over- 
 whelmed with invectives, and Sieves, the presi- 
 dent of the Council of the Ancients, stigmatized 
 as a perfidious priest, who was about to belie in 
 
 * Lac, -HIV.. 399, 400. Goh., i., 73, 75, 
 t Goh., i., 90. 
 
568 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVIJ. 
 
 power all the patriotic resolutions of his earlier 
 years.* 
 
 In these perilous circumstances the Directory 
 P , , named Fouche minister of police, 
 
 poimcd minis- This celebrated man, who, under 
 ter of police. NapoIeon, came to play so impor- 
 His character tant a part in the government of the 
 ti"l desro'^nJ*' Empire, early gave indication of the 
 ° ■ great abilities and versatile charac- 
 ter which enabled him so long to maintain his 
 influence, not only with many diflerent adminis- 
 trations, but under so many different govern- 
 ments. An old member of the Jacobin Club, 
 and thoroughly acquainted with all their de- 
 signs ; steeped in the atrocities of Lyons ; a re- 
 gicide and atheist ; bound neither by affection 
 nor principle to their cause, and seeking only in 
 the shipwreck of parties to make his own for- 
 tune, he was eminently qualified to act as a spy 
 upon his former friends, and to secure the Direc- 
 tory against their elforts. He perceived at this 
 critical period that the ascendant of the Revolu- 
 tionists was on the wane ; and, having raised 
 himself to eminence by their passions, he now 
 resolved to attach himself to that conservative 
 party who were striving to reconstruct the ele- 
 ments of society, and establish regular authority 
 by their subversion. The people beheld with 
 dismay the associate of Collot d'Herbois, and a 
 regicide member of the convention, raised to the 
 important station of head of the police ; but they 
 soon found that the massacres of Lyons were 
 not to be renewed ; and that the Jacobin enthu- 
 siast, intrusted with the direction of affairs, was 
 to exhibit, in combating the forces of anarchy, a 
 vigour and resolution unknown in the. former 
 stages of the Revolution. His accession to the 
 administration at this juncture was of great im- 
 portance ; for he soon succeeded in confirming 
 the wavering ideas of Barras, and inducing him 
 to exert all his strength in combating tho.se prin- 
 ciples of Democracy which were again begin- 
 ning to dissolve the social body.t 
 
 Under the auspices of so vigorous a leader, 
 the power of the Jacobins was. speed- 
 
 JacoMa Club^ ^'^ P"' '^ '^^^ ^^^^- ^e at once closed 
 the Riding-school Hall, where their 
 meetings were held, and supported by the Coun- 
 cil of the Ancients, within whose precincts it 
 was placed, prohibited any farther assemblies in 
 that situation. The Dernocrats, expelled from 
 their old den, reassembled in a new place of 
 meeting in the Rue du Bac, where their decla- 
 mations were renewed with as much vehemence 
 as ever. But public opinion had changed; the 
 people were no longer disposed to rise in insur- 
 rection to support their ambitious projects. Fou- 
 che resolved to follow up his blow by closing 
 their meetings altogether. The Directory were 
 legally invested with the power of taking this 
 decisive step, as the organization of the society 
 "was contrary to law, but there was a division 
 of opinion among its members as to the expedi- 
 ence of adopting it, Moulins and Gohier insist- 
 ing that it was only by favouring the clubs, and 
 reviving the revolutionary spirit of 1793, that the 
 Republic could make head against its enemies. 
 However, the majority, consisting of Sieyes, 
 Barras, and Roger Ducos, persuaded by the ar- 
 guments of Fouche, resolved upon the decisive 
 step. The execution of the measure was post- 
 poned till after the anniversary of the 10th of 
 
 ' Th.. X., 360, 361. Lac., xiv , 359, 360. Jom., Vie de 
 Nap.. I., 364. 
 
 t Goh., i., 110. Th., X., 364. Lac, xiv., 362. 
 
 August; but it was then carried into . ^ ,„ ,-„„ 
 efiect without opposition, and the ■^^"o- '2, j<99. 
 Jacobin Club, which had spread such havoc 
 through the world, at last and forever closed.* 
 
 Deprived of their point of rendezvous, the 
 Democrats had recourse to their 
 usual engine, the press: and the y'«len« "ftlie 
 
 1 • ]■ . 1 ,-1, 1 daily press, 
 
 journals immediately were filled 
 
 with the most furious invectives against Sieyes, 
 who was stigmatized as the author of the meas- 
 ure. This able but speculative man, the author 
 of the celebrated pamphlet, "What is the Tiers 
 Etat 1" which had so powerful an effect in pro- 
 moting the Revolution in 1789, was now held up 
 to public execration as a perfidious priest, who 
 had sold the Republic to Prussia. In truth, he 
 had long ago seen the pernicious tendency of the 
 Democratic dogmas with which he commenced 
 in life, and never hesitated to declare openly 
 that a strong government was indispensable to 
 France, and that liberty was utterly incompati- 
 ble with the successive tyranny of difierent par- 
 ties, which had so long desolated the Republic. 
 These opinions were sufhcient to point him out 
 as the victim of Republican fur}', and, aware of 
 his danger, he was already beginning to look 
 around for some military leader who might exe- 
 cute the cuttp d'dtat, which he foresaw was the 
 only remaining chance of salvation to the coun- 
 try. t 
 
 In the mean while, the state of the press re- 
 quired immediate attention; its li- Attack on the 
 cense and excesses were uUerly in- journalists by- 
 consistent with any stable or regU- the Directory. 
 lar government. The only law by which it 
 could be restrained was one which declared that; 
 all attempts to subvert the Republic should be 
 punished with death; a sanguinary regulation,, 
 the offspring of Democratic apprehensions, the 
 severity of which prevented it, in the present 
 state of public feeling, from being carried into 
 execution. In this extremity, the three directors 
 declared that they could no longer carry on the 
 government, and France was on the point of 
 being delivered over to utter anarchy, when the 
 Directory thought of the expedient of applying 
 to the press the article of the Constitution which 
 gave the executive power the right to arrest all 
 persons suspected of carr}'ing on plots against 
 the Republic. Nothing could be more forced 
 than such an interpretation of this clause,: which, 
 was obviously intended for a very different pur- 
 pose; but necessity and the well-knoAvn princi- 
 ple, Salus Populi Suprejjia Lex, seemed to justi- 
 fy, on the ground afterward taken by 
 Charles X., a stretch indispensable ®P " ' ' ■ 
 for the existence of regular government, and an 
 arret was at length resolved on, which authorized 
 the apprehension of the editors of eleven jour- 
 nals, and the immediate suppression of their 
 publications.! 
 
 This bold step produced an immediate ebul- 
 lition among the Democrats; but q,, . . j 
 
 r , , , '. 1 heir continued 
 
 It was confined to declamations vi<Torous mea*- 
 and threats, without any hostile urss against the 
 measures. The tribune resound- Jacobins. Sept. 
 ed with "dictators, the fall of lib- 
 erty," and all the other overflowings of revolu- 
 tionary zeal ; but not a .sword was drawn. The 
 three resolute directors, continuing their advan- 
 tage, succeeded in throwing out, by a majority 
 of 245 to 171, a proposal to Jourdan to declare 
 
 * Th., X., 366, 367. Lac, xiv., ?.(>Z. Mi?n., ii., 447. 
 Goh., i., 125, 130. + Th., x., 26S. Mig:n., ii., 448. 
 
 I Alt. 144. * Th., X., 360. Lac, xjv., 363. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 5G9 
 
 the country in danger, which was supported by 
 the whole force ot" the Jacobin party, and soon 
 alter successfully ventured on the bold step of 
 dismissing Bernadotte, the minister of war, 
 whose attachment to Democratical principles 
 Sept 17 ^^^^ ^^'^'^ known. All thoughts were al- 
 ready turned towards a military chief 
 capable of putting^an end to the distractions of 
 the R,epublic, and extricating it from the perilous 
 situation in which it was placed from the con- 
 tinued successes of the allies. " We must have 
 done with declaimers," said Sioyes; "what we 
 want is a head and a sword." But where to find 
 that sword was the difficulty. Joubert had re- 
 cently been killed at Novi; Moreau, notwith- 
 standing his consummate military talents, was 
 known not to possess the energy and moral reso- 
 lution requisite for the task ; Massena w"as famed 
 only as a skilful soldier; wliile Augereau and 
 Bernadotte had openly thrown themselves into 
 the arms of the opposite party. In this emer- 
 gency, all eyes were already turned towards that 
 3'outhful hero who had hitherto chained victory 
 to his standards, and whose early campaigns, 
 splendid as they were, had been almost thrown 
 into the shade b}' the romantic marvels of his 
 Egyptian expedition. The Directory had al- 
 ready assembled an immense fleet in the Medi- 
 terranean to bring back the army from the shores 
 of the Nile, but it had broken up without achiev- 
 ing anything. But Lucien and Joseph Bona- 
 parte had conveyed to Napoleon full intelligence 
 of the disastrous state of the Republic, and it 
 was by their advice that he resolved to brave the 
 English cruisers and return to France. The 
 public mind was already in that uncertain and 
 agitated state which is the general precursor of 
 some great political event; and the journals, a 
 faithful mirror of its fleeting changes, were filled 
 with conjectures as to the future revolutions he 
 was to achieve in the world.* 
 
 In truth, it was high time that some military 
 Deplorable leader of commanding talent should 
 state of seize the helm, to save the sinking for- 
 Frauce at tunes of the Republic. Never since 
 this period, jj^g commencement of the war had its 
 prospects been so gloomy, both from external 
 disaster and internal oppression. A contempo- 
 rary Republican writer, of no common talent, has 
 drawn the following graphic picture of the in- 
 ternal state of France at this period: " Merit was 
 generally persecuted; all men of honour chased 
 from public situations ; robbers everywhere as- 
 sembled in their infernal caverns; the wicked 
 in power ; the apologists of the system of terror 
 thundering in the tribune ; spoliation re-estab- 
 lished under the name of forced loans; a,ssassina- 
 tion prepared; thousands of victims already de- 
 signed, under the name of hostages ; the signal 
 for pillage, murder, and conflagration anxiously 
 looked for, couched in the words, the 'country 
 is in danger;' the same cries, the same shouts 
 were heard in the clubs as in 1793 ; the same 
 executioners, the same victims; liberty, proper- 
 ty, could no longer be said to exist; the citizens 
 had no security for their lives, the state for its 
 finances. All Europe was in arms against us; 
 America even had declared against our tyranny; 
 our armies were routed, our conquests lost, the 
 territory of the Republic menaced with inva- 
 sion.t Such was the situation of France before 
 
 * Th., X.. 375, 377. Mign., ii., 443. Lac, xiv., 362, 363. 
 Goh., i., 140, 155. 
 
 t Prem. Ann. du Consulat de Bonaparte, 7. Dum. ii., 
 335. Til.. X., 42<*. Bour., in., 27. 
 
 Vol. I. — C c G c 
 
 the revolution of the I8th Brumaire." And such 
 
 is the picture of the ultimate elTect of Democrat- 
 ic convulsions, drawn by their own authors; 
 such the miseries which compelled the nation, 
 instead of the feeble spectre of Louis, to receive 
 the dreaded sword of Napoleon. 
 
 The despatches, containing the account of the 
 expedition into Syria, and of the mar- Arrival oC 
 vellous victories of Mont Thabor and Napoleon 
 Aboukir, arrived at this time, and '■^^ Frejus. 
 spread far and wide the inapression that the con- 
 queror of Rivoli was the destined saviour of the 
 state, for whom all classes were so anxiously- 
 looking. His name was in every mouth. Where 
 is he ] What will he do 1 What chance is there 
 that he will avoid the English cruisers 1 were the 
 questions universally asked. Such was the anx- 
 iety of the public mind on the subject, that ru- 
 mour had twice outstripped the hopes of his 
 friends, and announced his arrival ; and when, 
 at length, the telegraph gave the official intelli- 
 gence that he had arrived at Frejus, the public 
 transports knew no bounds.* 
 
 When the people at Frejus heard that the con- 
 queror of Egypt was on their coast. Universal eu- 
 their enthusiasm broke through all thusiasm 
 the restraints of government. The which it ex- 
 laws of quarantine were in a mo- *^"'''^- 
 ment forgotten. A multitude, intoxicated with 
 joy and hope, .seized the first boats, and rushed 
 on board the vessels ; Napoleon, amid universal 
 acclamations, landed, and immediately set out 
 for Paris. The telegraph, with the rapidity of* 
 the winds, announced his arrival, and the impor- 
 tant intelligence speedily spread over the capital. 
 The intoxication was universal, the joy unani- 
 mous. All wishes had been turned towards a 
 hero who could restore peace to desolated France, 
 and here he was, dropped from the clouds : a for- 
 tunate soldier presented himself, who had caused 
 the Fi'ench standards to float on the Capitol and 
 the Pyramids ; in whom all the v/orld recognised 
 both ciWl and military talents of the very high- 
 est order. His proclamations, his negotiations,, 
 his treaties, bore testimony to the first ; his as- 
 tonishing victories afforded irrefragable evidence 
 of the second. So rare a combination might sug- 
 gest alarm to the friends of liberty, were it not 
 that his well-known principles and disinterested- 
 ness precluded the idea that he would employ 
 the dictatorship to any other end than the public 
 good and the termination of the misfortunes of 
 the country. Discourses of this sort, in every 
 mouth, threw the public into transports, so much 
 the more entrancing as they succeeded a long' 
 period of disaster ; the joyful intelligence was 
 announced, amid thunders of applause, at all the 
 theatres; patriotic songs again sent forth their 
 heart-stirring strains from the orchestra ; and 
 more than one enthusiast expired of joy at the 
 advent of the hero who was to terminate the dif- 
 ficulties of the Republic. t ' 
 
 The conqueror was greeted with the most en- 
 thusiastic reception the whole way His journey, 
 from Frejus to Paris. At Aix, Avig- and arrival at 
 non, Vienne, and Lyons, the people P'"''*- 
 came forth in crowds to meet him ; his journey 
 resembled a continual triumph. The few bells 
 which the Revolution had left in the churches 
 were rung on his approach ; his course at night 
 marked by the bonfires on all the eminen- ^ jg 
 ces. On the 16th of October he arrived 
 
 * Th., X., 429. 431. Mi^., ii., 449, 
 
 t Bour., iii., 28, 29. Th., x., 432. Nap., i., 56. 
 
570 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVIT. 
 
 unexpectedly at Paris: his -u'ifc and brothers, 
 mistaking his route, iiad gone out to meet him 
 by another road. 'I'wo hours alter his arrival 
 he waited on the Directory ; the soldiers at the 
 gate of the palace, who had served under him at 
 Areola, recognised his figure, and loud cries of 
 Vive Bonaparte ! announced to the government 
 that the dreaded commander had arrived. 
 He was received by Gohier, and it was 
 arranged that he should be presented in public 
 on the following day.* His reception then was, 
 to external appearance, flattering, and splendid 
 encomiums were pronounced on the victories of 
 the Pyramids, of Mont Thabor, and Aboukir; 
 but mutual distrust prevailed on both sides, and 
 a vague disquietude already pervaded the Direc- 
 tory at the appearance of the renowned conquer- 
 or, who at so critical a moment had presented 
 himself in the capital. 
 
 Though convinced that the moment he had so 
 Reception long looked for had arrived, and re- 
 t^neie by the solved to scize the supreme authority. 
 Directory. Napoleon landed in France without 
 any fixed project for caiTying his design into ex- 
 ecution. The enthusiasm, however, with which 
 he had been received in the course of his journey 
 to Paris, and the intelligence which he there ob- 
 tained of the state of the country, made him at 
 ence determine on the attempt. The circum- 
 stances of the time were singularly favourable 
 for such a design. None of the Director}' were 
 possessed of any personal consideration except 
 Sieyes, and he had long revolved in his mind the 
 project of substituting, for the weak and oppres- 
 sive government which Avas now desolating 
 France, the firm hand of a vigorous and able 
 military leader. Even so far back asihe revolt 
 of the sections on the I3th Vendemiaire (10th 
 Nov., 1795), he had testified his opinion of the 
 weakness of his colleagues to Napoleon. At 
 the most critical moment of the day, when the 
 Committee of Government had lost their heads, 
 Sieyes approached Napoleon, and, taking him 
 into the embrasure of a window, said, "You see 
 how it is, general ; they are haranguing when 
 the moment for action has arrived ; large bodies 
 are unfit for the lead of armies — they never know 
 the value of time. You can be of no use here. 
 Go, general: take counsel only of your own ge- 
 nius, and the dangers of the country ; the sole 
 hope of the Republic is in you." These words 
 ■were not lost on Napoleon; they pointed him 
 out as the fit associate in his designs ; and to 
 these were soon added M. Talleyrand, who was 
 too clear-sighted not to perceive that the only 
 chance of safety was in the authority of a dicta- 
 tor, and who had also private grievances of his 
 own to induce him to desire the overthrow of the 
 government. t 
 
 Indeed, so general was the impression at that 
 Previous in- period of the impossibility of contin- 
 tngues of tho uing the government of France un- 
 Directorv with der the Republican form, that, pre- 
 Louis X\ III. yjovis to Napoleon's arrival, various 
 projects had been not only set on foot, but were 
 far advanced, for the restoration of monarchical 
 authority. The brothers of Napoleon, Joseph 
 and Lucien, were deeply implicated in these in- 
 trigues. The Abbe Siiyes at one time thought 
 o^' placing the Duke of Brunswick on the throne ; 
 Barras was not averse to the restoration of the 
 Bourbons, and negotiations were on foot with 
 
 * Bour.,iii.,3S, 39. Th.,x., 433. Nap., i., 55, 56. Goh., 
 i., 197, 202. 
 
 t Nap., 1., 57, 59. Jom., xii., 392, 393. Boar., iii., 32. 
 
 Louis XVIII. for that purpose.* They had even, 
 gone so Ikr that the terms of the director were 
 fixed for playing the part of General Monk; 
 twelve millions of livres were to have been his 
 reward, besides two millions to divide among his 
 a.s.sociates.+ But in the midst of these intrigues, 
 Joseph and Lucien Bonaparte were in a more 
 effectual way advancing tlieir brother's interests, 
 by inducing the leaders of the army to co-operate 
 in his elevation ; they had already engaged Mac- 
 donald, Le Clerc, Lefebvre, Augereau, and Jour- 
 dan to favour his enterprise ; but Moreau hung 
 back, and all their eflferts had failed in engaging 
 Bernadotte, whose Republican principles were 
 proof against their seductions.t 
 
 No sooner had Napoleon arrived at his unas- 
 suming dwelling in the Rue Chan- , ,. ^ ., 
 
 . ° ., ? 1 1 1 Junction of the 
 
 tereine, than the whole generals muiecontents of 
 who had been sounded hastened to all parties to 
 pay their court ♦to him, and with support Napo- 
 them all who had been dismissed 
 or conceived themselves ill-used by the Directo- 
 ry. His saloon soon resembled rather the court 
 of a monarch than the rendezvous of the friends 
 of any private individual, how eminent soever. 
 P.esides Lannes, Murat, and Berthier, who had 
 shared his fortunes in Egypt, and were warmly 
 attached to him, there were now assembled Jour- 
 dan, Augereau, Macdonald, Bournonville, Le 
 Clerc, Lefebvre, and Marbot, who, notwithstand- 
 ing their many differences of opinion on other 
 subjects, had been induced, by the desperate state 
 of ihe Republic, to concur in oifering the milita- 
 ry dictatorship to Napoleon ; and although Mo- 
 reau at first appeared undecided, he was at length 
 won by the address of his great rival, who made 
 the first advances, and afiected to consult him on 
 his future designs. In addition to this illustrious 
 band of military chiefs, many of the most influ- 
 ential members of the Legislature were also dis- 
 posed tfi favour the enterprise. Roederer, the 
 old leader in the municipality, Regnault St. 
 Angely, long known and respected for his in- 
 domitable firmness in the most trying scenes of 
 the Revolution, and a great number of the lead- 
 ing deputies in both chambers, had paid their 
 court to him on his arrival. Nor Avere oflicial 
 functionaries, and even the members of adminis- 
 tration, wanting. Sieyes and Roger Ducos, 
 the two directors who chiefly superintended the 
 civil concerns, and Moulins, M-ho was at the 
 head of the militar}- department of the Republic, 
 Cambaceres, the minister of justice, Fouche, the 
 head of the police, and Real, a commissary in. 
 tlie department of the Seine, an active and in- 
 triguing partisan, were assiduous in their attend- 
 ance. Eight days had hardly elapsed, and al- 
 ready the direction of government seemed to be 
 insensibly gliding into his hands. § 
 
 The ideas of the.se different persons, however, 
 were far from being unanimous as to the course 
 which should be adopted. The Republican gen- 
 erals offered Napoleon a military dictatorship, 
 and agreed to support him with all their power, 
 provided he -would maintain the principles of the 
 Riding-school Club. Sieyes, Talleyrand, Roger 
 Ducos, and Regnier, proposed to place him sim- 
 ply at the head of affairs, and to change the Con- 
 stitution, which experience had proved to be so 
 
 129. 
 
 Bour., iii., 45. Capefigue, Hist, de la Restauration, i., 
 
 t CapefigTie, Hist, de la Restauratinn, i., 129, 125. Nap., 
 i., 6fi. 1 Th., X., 434. Bour., ni., 41, 45. 
 
 Goh., i., 211, 212. Nap., i., 64, 65, 74. Th., x., 435, 
 437. 
 
17091 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 671 
 
 miserably defective ; while the directors Barras 
 and Goiiier vainly endeavoured to rid themselves 
 of so dangerous a rival, by otlering and anxious- 
 ly pressing upon him the command of the ar- 
 mies.* 
 
 In the midst of this flattering adulation, the 
 Profound dis- conduct of Napoleon was influenced 
 simulation of by that profound knowledge of hu- 
 his conduct. >^an nature and thorough dissimula- 
 tion, which formed such striking features of his 
 character. Aflecting to withdraw from the eager 
 gaze of the multitude, he seldom showed him- 
 self in public, and then only in the costume of 
 the National Institute, or in a gray surtout, with 
 a Turkish sabre suspended by a silk riband : a 
 dress which, under seeming simplicity, revealed 
 the secret pride of the Conqueror of the Pyramids. 
 He postponed from day to day the numerous 
 visits of distinguished individuals who sought 
 the honour of being presented to him, and when 
 he went to the theatre, frequented only a con- 
 cealed box, as if to avoid the thunders of ap- 
 plause which always attended his being recog- 
 nised. When obliged to accept an invitation to 
 a sumptuous repast, given in his honour by the 
 minister of justice, he requested that the leading 
 lawj'ers might be invited ; and selecting M. 
 Tronchet, the eloquent defender of Louis XVI., 
 conversed long with hira and Treilhard on the 
 want of a simple code of criminal and civil ju- 
 risprudence which might be adapted to the intel- 
 ligence of the age. To private dinners in his 
 own house he invited only the learned men of 
 {he Institute, and conversed with them entirely 
 on scientific subjects ; if he spoke on politics at 
 all, it was only to express his profound regret at 
 the misfortunes of France. In vain the directors 
 exaggerated to him the successes of Massena in 
 Switzerland, and Brune in Holland ; he appear- 
 ed inconsolable for the loss of Italy, and seemed 
 to consider every success of no moment till that 
 gem was restored to the coronet of the Republic. t 
 
 Napoleon's first attempt was to engage in his 
 His efforts to iriterest Gobier, the president of the 
 gain Gohier Directory, and Moulins, who were 
 snd Moulins, both Strongly attached to the Repub- 
 who refuse, ijcau side ; and, with this view, he 
 not only paid them in private the greatest atten- 
 tion, but actually proposed to them that he should 
 be taken into the government instead of Sieyes, 
 though below the age of forty, which the Consti- 
 tution required for that elevated function. " Take 
 care," said he, " of that cunning priest Sieyes ; 
 it is his connexion with Prussia, the very thing 
 %vhich should have excluded him from it, which 
 has raised him to the Directory ; unless you take 
 care, he will sell you to the coalesced powers. 
 It is absolutely necessary to get quit of him. It 
 is true, I am below the legal age required by the 
 Constitution; but in the pursuit of forms we 
 must not forget realities. Those who framed 
 the Constitution did not recollect that the maturi- 
 ty of judgment produced by the Revolution was 
 often far more essential than the maturity of age, 
 which in many is much less material. Ambi- 
 tion has no share in these observations ; they are 
 «iictated alone by the fears which so dangerous 
 an election could not fail to inspire in all the 
 friends of real freedom." Gohier and Moulins, 
 however, agreed in thinking that the Republic 
 had more to fear from the young general than 
 the old metaphysician ; and therefore replied, 
 
 * Th., X., 436, 437. Nap., iii., 64, 65. Goh.. i., 218. 
 t Nap., i., 60, 61. Lac, xiv., 401. Th., x., 437. 
 
 that though, if of the legal age, he would doubt- 
 lt?ss have secured all suffrages, yet nothing, in 
 their estimation, could counterbalance a viola- 
 lion of the Constitution, and that the true career 
 which lay before him was the command of the 
 armies. *t 
 
 Meanwhile, all Europe was resounding with 
 
 the return of Napoleon, and specu- ,,. . 
 
 i„.- „ -.u -. .u J. After much 
 
 lation, with its thousand tongues, was hesitution, ho 
 everywhere busied in anticipating at length re- 
 the changes whicli he was to effect in «,"'*<"' <■" i"^'^ 
 the fate of France and of the world. ^'^J"^'*- 
 " What will Bonaparte do 1 Is he to follow the 
 footsteps of Cromwell, or Monk, or Washing- 
 ton 1 What change is he likely to make in the 
 fate of the warl" were the questions asked from 
 one end of Europe to the other. But the general 
 himself was for a short time undecided as to the 
 course which he should pursue. To avail him- 
 self of the support of the Jacobins and the Riding- 
 school Club seemed the plan most likely to dis- 
 arm all opposition, because they were the only 
 efficient or energetic body in the state ; but he 
 well knew that the Jacobins were jealous of ev- 
 ery leader, and were at once exclusive and vio- 
 lent in their passions ; and to make use of them 
 for his own elevation, and immediately break the 
 alliance and persecute them, would be a danger- 
 ous course. Sieyes, on the other hand, was at 
 the head of a numerous body of leading men in 
 the chambers. His character precluded him 
 from becoming an object of jealousy to the dic- 
 tator ; and, although many of his party were 
 firm Republicans, they were not of such an im- 
 petuous and energetic kind as to be incapable of 
 employment under a regular government after 
 the struggle was over ; and, besides, their strife 
 with the Riding-school Club was too recent to 
 render any coalition between such opposite bod- 
 ies the subject of apprehension. Influenced by 
 these considerations, Napoleon resolved to at- 
 tach himself to Sieyes and his party, and enter 
 into none of the projects of the Jacobins. ;§ 
 
 On the 30th of October he dined with Barras. 
 "The Republic is perishing," said the 
 director; "nothing can be in a more resoWedon. 
 miserable state; the government is 
 destitute of all force. We mu.st have a change, 
 and name Hedouville President of the Republic. 
 Your intention, you know, is to put yourself at 
 the head of the army. As for me, I am ill ; my 
 
 * Goh., i., 205, 210. 
 
 t At this period, Sieyes' indigTiation at Napoleon knew 
 no bounds. " Instead," said he, " of lamenting his inactivi- 
 ty, let us rather congratuliite ourselves upon it ; far from 
 putting arms into the hands of a man whose intentions are 
 so suspicious — far from giving him a fresh theatre of glory, 
 let us cease to oc^cupy ourselves more about his concerns, 
 and endeavour, if possible, to cause him to be forgot." — 
 Gohier, i., 216. 
 
 t Nap., 1., 67, 68. Th.,x., 438, 439. Dour., iii., 61, 62. 
 
 () Though political considerations, however, led to this 
 alliance, tliere were no two men in Fiance who hated each 
 other more cordially than Napoleon and Sieves. They had 
 lately met at dinner at Director Gohiei's ; the former, though 
 he had made the first advances to Moreau, tliought it un- 
 worthy of him to do the same to the veteran of the Revolu- 
 tion, and the day passed over without their addressing each 
 other. They separated mutually exasperated. " Did you 
 see that insolent little fellow 7" said Sieyes ; '• he would not 
 even condescend to notice a member of the g-overimient, 
 who, if they had done right, would have caused him to be 
 shot." " What on earth," said Napoleon. " could have made 
 them put that priest in the Directory ? lie is sold to Prussia, 
 and unless you take care, he will deliver you up to that 
 power." Yet these men, stimulated by ambition, acted cor- 
 rlially together in the Revolution which so soon approached. 
 Such IS the friendship of politicians.* 
 
 * TlL, I., 441 Bout., iii., 39, 61. Lac., 403. Goh., i 
 
572 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVIL 
 
 popularit)' is gone, and I am fit only for private 
 life." Napoleon looked at him steadily without 
 making any answer. Barras cast down his eyes 
 and remained silent: the}" had divined each oth- 
 er. Hedouville was a man of no sort of celebri- 
 t)' ; his name had been used merely as a cover to 
 the searching question. The conversation here 
 dropped ; but Napoleon saw that the time for ac- 
 tion had arrived, and a few minutes after he call- 
 ed on Sieyes, and agreed to make the change be- 
 tween the 15th and 20th Brumaire (9th to the 
 11th of November). On returning home, he re- 
 counted to Talleyrand, Fouche, and others what 
 had passed ; they communicated it during the 
 night to Barras, and at eight the following morn- 
 ing 'the director was at his bedside, protesting 
 his devotion, and that he alone could save the 
 Republic ; but Napoleon declined his open as- 
 sistance, and turned the conversation to the dif- 
 ference between the humid climate of Paris and 
 the burning sands of Arabia.* 
 
 Notwithstanding his utmost efforts, however, 
 He tries in vain Napoleon was unable to make any 
 to gain Berna- impression on Bernadotte. That 
 dotte. general, partly from Republican 
 
 principles, partly from jealousy, resisted all his 
 advances. " You have seen," said he to Bourri- 
 enne, " the enthusiasm with which I was receiv- 
 ed in France, and how evidently it springs from 
 the general desire to escape out of a disastrous 
 predicament. Well! I have just seen Berna- 
 dotte, who boasts, with a ridiculous exaggera- 
 tion, of the great successes of the Republicans; 
 he spoke of the Russians beat, and Genoa saved ; 
 of the innumerable armies which were about to 
 be raised. He even reproached me with not 
 having brought back my soldiers from Egypt. 
 ' What !' I answered, ' you tell me that you are 
 overflowing with troops ; that two hundred thou- 
 sand infantr}' and forty thousand cavalry will 
 soon be on foot. If that is so, to what purpose 
 should I have brought back the remains of my 
 army V He then changed his tone, and confess- 
 ed that he thought us all lost. He spoke of ex- 
 ternal enemies, of internal enemies, and at that 
 word he looked steadily in my face. I also gave 
 him a glance; but patience, the pear will soon 
 be ripe." Soon after. Napoleon expressed him- 
 self, with his wonted vehemence, against the agi- 
 tation which reigned among the Jacobins, and 
 of which the Riding-school Hall was the centre. 
 " Your own brothers," replied Bernadotte, " were 
 its principal founders, and yet you accuse me of 
 having favoured that Club: it is to the instruc- 
 tions of some one, / knav not v:fi^, that we are to 
 ascribe the agitation which now prevails." At 
 these words Napoleon could no longer contain 
 himself. "True, general," he replied, with the 
 utmost vehemence, "and I would rather live in 
 the woods than in a society which presents no 
 security against violence." Their conversation 
 only augmented the breach, and soon after they 
 separated in sullen discontent. t 
 
 Though a few of the militar}', however, held 
 
 out, the great proportion of them 
 Progressof gained. Berthier, Lannes, 
 
 the conspiracy. , , > i ., ' i • 
 
 and Murat were daily makmg 
 
 converts of such as were backward in sending in 
 their adhesion. The officers of the garrison, 
 headed by Moreau, demanded that they should 
 be presented to Napoleon. The forty adjutants 
 of the National Guard of Paris made the same 
 
 * Nap.,i.,fi9, 70. Th., X., 448, 449. Lac., xiv., 407,408. 
 t Boar., m.,46,51. 
 
 request ; his brothers, Lucien and Joseph, daily- 
 augmented his party in the councils ; the 8th 
 and yth regiments of dragoons, who had serv-ed 
 under him in Italy, with the 2lst chasseurs, who 
 had been organized by him, were devoted to his 
 service. Moreau said, " He did not wish to be 
 engaged in any intrigues, but that, when the mo- 
 ment for action arrived, he would be found at his 
 post."* The people of Paris, who awaited in. 
 anxious expectation the unfolding of the plot, 
 could no longer conceal their impatience. '■ Fif- 
 teen days have elapsed," said they, "and nothing 
 has been done.t Is he to leave us, as he did on. 
 his return from Italy, and let the Republic perish 
 in the agony of the factions who dispute its re- 
 mains V Everything announced the approach 
 of the decisive moment. 
 
 By the able and indefatigable efforts of Lucien 
 Bonaparte, a banquet, at which he November 6. 
 himself was president, was given at Great banquet 
 the Council of the Ancients in hon- at the Hall of 
 our of Napoleon . It passed off with ^^^ Ancients, 
 sombre tranquillity. Every one spoke in a whis- 
 per ; anxiety was depicted on every face ; a sup- 
 pressed agitation was visible even in the midst 
 of apparent quiet. His own countenance was 
 disturbed; his absent and preoccupied air suffi- 
 ciently indicated that some great project was at 
 hand. He rose soon from table, and left the 
 part)', which, although gloomy, had answered 
 the object in view, which was to bring together 
 six hundred persons of various political princi- 
 ples, and thus engage them to act in unison in 
 any common enterprise. It was on that night 
 that the arrangements for the conspiracy were 
 finally made between Sieyes and Napoleon. It 
 was agreed that the government should be over- 
 turned; that instead of the five directors, three 
 consuls should be appointed, charged with a dic- 
 tatorial power which was to last for three months - 
 that Napoleon, Sieyes, and Roger Ducos should 
 fill these exalted stations; and that the Council 
 of the Ancients should pass a decree on the I8tli 
 Brumaire (9th of Nov.), at seven in the morning, 
 transferring the Legislative Body to St. Cloud„ 
 and appointing Napoleon commander of the 
 guard of the Legislature, of the garrison at Paris,, 
 and the National Guard. On the 19th the deci- 
 sive event was to take place.: 
 
 During the three critical days which followed. 
 
 * An interesting conversation took place l>etween Napo- 
 leon and Moreau when they met, for the first time in their 
 lives, at a dinner-party at Gohier's. When first introduced, 
 they looked at each other a moment without speaking. 
 Napoleon was the first to break silence, and testify to Mo- 
 reau the desire which he had long felt to make his acquaint- 
 ance. " You have returned victorious from Egypt," replied 
 Moreau, " and I from Italy, after a great defeat. It was the 
 month which his marriage induced Joubert to spend at Par- 
 is which caused our disasters, by giving the allies time to 
 reduce Mantua, and bring up the force which tiesieged it to 
 take a pan in the action. It is always the greater number 
 which defeats the less." " True," replied Napoleon, " it is 
 always the greater number which beats the less." " And 
 yet." said Gohier, " with small armies you have frequently- 
 defeated large ones." " Even then," rejoined he, " it was 
 always the inferior force which was defeated by I he superi- 
 or. When with a small body of men I was in presence of 
 a large one, collecting my little band, I fell like lightning on 
 one of the wings of the enemy and defeated it ; profiting by 
 the disorder which such an event never failed to occasion in 
 their whole line, I repeated the attack, with similar success, 
 ill another quarter, still with my whole force. I thus beat 
 it in detail ; and the general victory, which was the result, 
 was sdll an example of the truth of the principle, that the 
 sreater force defeats the lesser."— See GOHIER, i., 203, 204- 
 Two days after Napoleon maile Moreau a present of a dag- 
 ?er set with diamonds, worth 10.000 francs. — Moniteur, 
 1799. p. 178. t Th., x.,451,452. Nap., i., 71, "2. 
 
 J Bour., iii,57, 59. Goh., i., 226. Nap., i., 73. Mign.^ 
 ii., 450. Th., x., 452, 455. 
 
[799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 573 
 
 ■o . the secret, thousrh known to a ^reat 
 
 Preparations , '„ ° x- ■ i j- n 
 
 of the couspir- number oi persons, was laithiuuy 
 ators m the kept. Tlie preparations, boili civil 
 Council of the ajij military, went oif without inter- 
 Ancients. ruption. Orders were given to the 
 regiments, both infantry and cavalry, which could 
 be relied on, to parade in the streets of Chante- 
 jeine and Mont Blanc at seven o'clock in the 
 morning of the 18th. Moreau, Lefebvre, and all 
 the generals, were summoned to attend at the 
 same hour, with the forty adjutants of the Na- 
 tional Guard. Meanwhile the secret Council of 
 the Ancients laboured, with shut doors and closed 
 windows, to prepare the decree which was to pass 
 at seven in the morning; and as it forbade all 
 discussion, and the Council of Five Hundred 
 were only summoned to meet at eleven, it was 
 ioped the decree would pass at once, not only 
 without any opposition, but before its opponents 
 could be aware of its existence.* 
 
 Meanwhile Napoleon, in his secret intercourse 
 Efforts of Na- with the different leaders, was inde- 
 poleoii with all fatigablc in his endeavours to disarm 
 parties. all opposition. Master of the most 
 
 profound dissimulation, he declared himself, to 
 the chiefs of the different parties, penetrated with 
 the ideas which he was aware would be most 
 acceptable to their minds. To one he protested 
 that he certainly did desire to play the part of 
 Washington, but only in conjunction with Sie- 
 yes: the proudest day of his life would be that 
 when he retired from power ; to another, that the 
 part of Cromwell appeared to him ignoble, be- 
 cause it was that of an impostor. To the friends 
 of Sieyes he professed himself impressed with the 
 most protbimd respect for that mighty intellect 
 before which the genius of Mirabeau had pros- 
 trated itself; that, for his own part, he could only 
 head the armies, and leave to others the forma- 
 tion of the Constitution. To all the Jacobins who 
 approached him, he spoke of the extinction of 
 liberty, the tyranny ol the Directory, and used 
 terms which sufficiently recalled his famous 
 proclamation, which had given the first impulse 
 to the revolution of the 18th Fructidor.t: In 
 public, he announced a review of the troops on 
 the morning of the 18th Brumaire, after which 
 he was to set off to take the command of the 
 army on the frontier. 
 
 All the proposed arrangements were made with 
 the Utmost precision. By daybreak 
 mafre. Nova's". ^^ ^^"^ ^^^^ Brumaire (8th of Nov.), 
 the boulevards were filled with a 
 numerous and splendid cavalry, and all the offi- 
 cers in and around Paris repaired, in full dress, 
 to the Rue Chantereine. The Deputies of the 
 Ancients who were not in the secret assembled, 
 with surprise at the unwonted hour, in their 
 place of meeting, and already the conspirators 
 were there in sutficient strength to give them the 
 majority. The president of the commission 
 charged with watching over the safety of the 
 
 * Th., X., 456, 457. Nap., i., 73, 75. 
 
 t Th., X., 457. Lac., xiv., 408, 409. 
 
 t At a small dinner-party given by Napoleon at this time, 
 •where the Director Gohier was present, the conversation 
 turned on the turquoise used by the Orientals to clasp their 
 turbans. Rising from his chair, Napoleon took out of a pri- 
 vate drawer two brooches, richly set with those jewels, one 
 of which he gave to Gohier, the other to Desaix. " It is a 
 little toy," said he, " which we Republicans may give and 
 receive without impropriety." 
 
 Soon after, the conversation turned on the prospect of an 
 approaching pacification. " Do you really," said Napole<m, 
 " advocate a general peace ? You are wrong, president ; a 
 republic should never make h-at partial accommodations ; it 
 Bhould always contrive to hane some war on hand to keep 
 alive the military spirit."— Oohieb., i., 214, 215. 
 
 Legislative Body opened the proceedings ; he 
 drew, in energetic and gloomy colours, a picture 
 of the dangers of the Republic, and especially of 
 the perils which menaced their own body, from 
 the efforts of the anarchists. " The Re])ublic," 
 said he, " is menaced at once by the anarchists 
 and the enemy ; we must instantly take meas- 
 ures for the public safety. We may reckon on 
 the support of General 'Bonaparte ; it is under 
 the shadow of his protecting ann that the coun- 
 cils must deliberate on the measures required by 
 the interests of the Republic." The uninitiated 
 members were startled, and a considerable agi- 
 tation prevailed in the assembly; but the major- 
 ity were instant and pressing, and at eight o'clock 
 the decree was passed, after a warm opposition, 
 transferring the seat of the Legislative Body to St. 
 Cloud, appointing them to meet there on the fol- 
 lowing day at noon, charging Napoleon with the 
 execution of the decree, authorizing him to take 
 all the measures necessary for its due perform- 
 ance, and appointing him to the command of the 
 garrison at Paris, the National Guard, the troops 
 of the line in the military divisions in which it 
 stood, and the guard of the two councils. This 
 extraordinary decree was ordered to be instantly 
 placarded on all the walls of Paris, despatched 
 to all the authorities, and obeyed by all the cili- 
 zens.*t 
 
 Napoleon was in his own house in the Rue 
 Chantereine when the messenger of jvieeting of the 
 state arrived ; his levee resembled conspirators in 
 rather the court of a powerful sov- the Rue Chan- 
 ereign than the dwelling of a general 'ereme. 
 about to undertake a perilous enterprise. No 
 sooner was the decree received, than he opened 
 the doors, and, advancing to the portico, read it 
 aloud to the brilliant assemblage, and asked if he 
 might rely on their support. They all answered 
 with enthusiasm in the affirmative, putting their 
 hands on their swords. He then addressed him- 
 self to Lefebvre, the governor of Paris, who had 
 arrived in ill humour at seeing the troops put in 
 motion without his orders, and said, " Well, Le- 
 febvre, are you, one of the supporters of the Re- 
 public, willing to let it perish in the hands of 
 la^vyers 1 Unite with me to save it ; here is the 
 sabre which I bore at the battle of the Pyramids ; 
 I give it you as a pledge of my esteem and con- 
 fidence." The appeal was irresistible to a sol- 
 dier's feelings. " Yes," replied Lefebvre, strong- 
 ly moved, " let us throw the advocates into the 
 river." Joseph Bonaparte had brought Berna- 
 dotte, but, upon seeing what was in agitation, he 
 rapidly retired to warn the Jacobins of their dan- 
 ger. Fouche, at the first intelligence of what 
 was going forward, had ordered the barriers to 
 be closed, and all the usual precautions taken 
 which mark a period of public alarm, and hasten- 
 ed to the Rue Chantereine to receive his orders ; 
 but Napoleon ordered them to be opened, and the 
 usual course of things to continue, as he marched 
 with the nation, and relied on its support. A 
 quarter of an hour afterward he mounted on 
 horseback, and put himself at the head of his 
 brilliant suite and fifteen hundred horsemen, and 
 rode to the Tuileries. Names since immortal- 
 ized were there assembled : Moreau and Mac- 
 donald, Berthier and Murat, Lannes, Marmont, 
 and Lefebvre. The dragoons, assembled, as they 
 
 * Nap., i., 75, 77. Lac, xiv., 411, 412. Th., x.. 459. 
 
 t To lull the suspicions of Gohier, Napoleon invited him- 
 self to dine with him on that very day (the I8th Brumaire), 
 and sent that director a pressing invitation, carried by Eu- 
 gene Beauharnois, to breakfast with him in the Hue Chan- 
 tereine on the preceding morning. — See Gohier, i., 228, 234. 
 
574 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVIL 
 
 imagined, for a review, joyfully followed in the 
 rear of so splendid a cortege, while the people, re- 
 joicing at the termination of the disastrous gov- 
 ernment of the Directory, saw in it the com- 
 mencement of the vigour of military, instead of 
 the feebleness of legal ascendant, and rent the 
 air with their acclamations.* 
 
 The military chief presented himself at the bar 
 Napoleon's ^^ ^^^ Ancients, attended by that 
 speech at the -Splendid Staff. " Citizen representa- 
 barofthcAu- tives," said he, "the Republic was 
 cients. about to perish when you saved it. 
 
 Wo to those who shall attempt to oppose your 
 decree I Aided by my brave companions in arms, 
 I will speedily crush them to the earth. You are 
 the collected wisdom of the nation ; it is for you 
 to point out the measures which may save it. I 
 come, surrounded by all the generals, to offer you 
 the support of their arms. I name Lefebvre my 
 lieutenant : I will faithfully discharge the duty 
 )'ou have intrusted to me. Let none seek in the 
 past examples to regulate the present; nothing in 
 history has an}-^ resemblance to the close of the 
 eighteenth century ; nothing in the eighteenth 
 century resembles this moment. We are resolved 
 to have a rejnibUc; we are resolved to have it 
 founded on true liberty and a representative sys- 
 tem. I swear it in my own name, and in that of 
 my companions in arms." " We swear it," re- 
 plied the generals. A deputy attempted to speak : 
 the president stopped him, upon the ground that 
 all deliberation was interdicted till the council 
 met at St. Cloud. The assembly immediately 
 broke up, and Napoleon proceeded to the gardens 
 of the Tuileries, where he passed in review the 
 regiments of the garrison, addressing to each a 
 few energetic words, in which he declared that 
 he was about to introduce changes which would 
 bring with them abundance and glory. The 
 weather was beautiful ; the confluence of specta- 
 tors immense ; their acclamations rent the skies ; 
 everything announced the transition from an- 
 archy to despotic power.+t 
 
 While all was thus proceeding favourably at 
 Proceedings of the Tuilcries, the Cotincil of Five 
 the Council of Hundred, having received a con- 
 Five Hundred, fused account of the revolution 
 Avhich was in progress, tumultuously assembled 
 in their hall. They were hardly met, when the 
 message arrived from the Ancients, containing 
 the decree removing them to St. Cloud. No 
 sooner was it read than a host of voices burst 
 forth at once ; but the president, Lticien Bona- 
 parte, succeeded in reducing them to silence, by 
 
 * Lac., xiv., 413. Nap., i., 78. Th., x., 461, 462. Goh., 
 i., 254. 
 t Th., X., 461,463. Nap., i., 78. Lac. xiv., 413, 414. 
 
 i During these events, the anxiety of all classes in Paris 
 on the approaching revolution had risen to the highest pitch. 
 A pamphlet, eagerly circulated at tlie doors of the councils, 
 contains a curious picture of the ideas of the moment, and 
 the manner in which the most obvious approaching events 
 are glossed over to those engaged in them. The dialogue 
 Tan as follows : " One of the Five Hundred. Between our- 
 selves, my friend, I am seriously alarmed at the part assign- 
 ed to Bonaparte in this afTair. His renown, his consideration, 
 the just confidence of the soldiers in his talents, his talents 
 themselves, may give him the most formidable ascendant 
 over the destinies of the Republic. Should he prove a 
 
 Caesar, a Cromwell 1" The Ancient. "A Caesar, a Crom- ^ ^^ __^ „,...^,.„. .„ „ .,^,. 
 
 well I Bad parts ; stale parts ; unworthy of a man of sense, Jl^Vu-pUrp'nnHiiVinaliVies^nf PaW^ 
 
 not to say a man of property. Bonaparte has declared so ^'^^ tvveive municipautlts 01 rans, SO as tO JeaT,e 
 
 liimseif on several occasions. 'It would be a sacrilegious , no rallying-pomt to the .lacobms. Before night 
 measure,' said he, on one occasion, 'to make any attempt the government was annihilated, and there re- 
 
 on a representative government in this age of intelligence and ' 
 
 liberty.' On another, ' Tliere is none but a fool who would I * Th., x., 468, 469. Gob., i., 243, 258, 261. Lac, xiv., 
 attempt to make the Republic lose the gauntlet it has thrown • 416. 
 
 down to the royalty of Europe, after having gone through I t Th., x., 464, 466. Lac, xir., 414, 415. Nap., i., 81, 
 so many penis to uphold it.'" — BouRraENNE, iii., 76, 77. I 62. Goh., i., 254. 
 
 appealing to the decree which interdicted all de- 
 liberation till they were assembled at that palace. 
 At the same moment, an aid-de-camp arrived 
 from Napoleon to the guard of the Directory, 
 communicating the decree, and enjoining them 
 to take no orders but from him. They were in 
 deliberation on the subject, when an order of 
 an opposite description arrived from the Direc- 
 toiy. The soldiers, however, declared for their 
 comrades in arms, and ranged themselves round 
 the standard of Napoleon. Soon after, a part of 
 the Directory sent in their resigna- Resignation of 
 tion. Sieyes and Roger Ducos .some of the 
 were already in the plot, and did so Directory, ar- 
 in concert with Napoleon. Barras '**' °^ others, 
 was easily disposed of Eoutot, his secretarj', 
 waited on Napoleon. He bitterly reproached 
 him with the public disasters. '• What have 
 you made of that France," exclaimed he, 
 '■ which I left so brilliant 1 I left you in peace,^ 
 I find you at war : I left you victories, 1 find only 
 disasters : I left you the millions of Ital}-, and in 
 their stead I find only acts of spoliation! Whafi 
 have you made of the hundred thousand men, 
 my companions in glory 1 They are dead! 
 This .state of things cannot continue ; in less than 
 three years it would lead to despotism." At 
 length the director yielded, and, accompanied by 
 a guard of honour, set out lor his villa of Gro's 
 Bois.* 
 
 The two directors who remained, howeverj 
 were not disposed of without considerable diffi- 
 culty. These were Gohier and Moulins, brave 
 Republicans, but whose powers of acting, ac- 
 cording to the Constitution, which required a 
 majority of the Directory for every legal acr,. 
 were paralyzed by the resignation or desertion, 
 of the majority of their brethren. Napoleon 
 waited upon them, and said that he believed 
 they were too good citizens to attempt to oppose 
 a revolution which appeared inevitable, and 
 that he therefore expected they would quietly 
 send in their resignations. Gohier replied with 
 vehemence, that, with the aid of his colleague 
 Moulins, he did not despair of saving the Re- 
 public. "With what T' said Napoleon. "With 
 the means of the Constitution which is falling to 
 pieces 1" At this instant a messenger arrived 
 with the intelligence that Santerre was striving 
 to raise the fauxbourgs. " General Moulins." 
 i said Napoleon, "you are the friend of Santerre. 
 I understand he is rousing the fauxbourgs; tell 
 him that, at the first movement, I will cause him 
 to be shot." Moulins replied with equal firm- 
 ness. " The Republic is in danger," said Na- 
 poleon ; " we must save it : il is my vill. Sieyes 
 and Roger Ducos have sent in their resigna- 
 tions ; you are two individuals insulated and 
 without power. I recommend you not to resist."' 
 The directors replied that they would not desert 
 their post. Upon that they were sent back to the 
 Luxembourg, separated from each other, and put 
 under arrest by orders of Napoleon transmitted 
 to Moreau. Meanwhile, Fouche, minister of 
 police, Cambaceres, minister of justice, and all 
 the public authorities, hastened to the Tuileries 
 to make their submission. t Fouche, in the 
 name of the Directory, provisionally dissolved 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 niained no authority in Paris but what emanated 
 from Napoleon. 
 
 A council was held in the evening at the Tuil- 
 Tvi , eries, to deliberate on the course to 
 
 Sidyns, arid be pur.sued on the lollowing day. 
 Eoger buoos Sieyes Strongly urged the necessity 
 are named of arresting forty leaders of the Jac- 
 cousuls. obins, who were already fomenting 
 opposition in the Council of Five Hundred, and 
 by whom the fauxbourgs were beginning to be 
 agitated ; but Napoleon declared that he would 
 not violate the oath which he had taken to pro- 
 tect the national representation, and that he had 
 no fear of such contemptible enemies. At the 
 same time, a provisional government was form- 
 ed. Napoleon, Sieyes, and Roger Ducos were 
 named lirst consuls, and it was agreed that the 
 councils should be adjourned for three months.* 
 Mural was appointed to the command of the 
 armed force at St. Cloud, Ponsard to that of the 
 guard of the Legislative Body, Serrurier of a 
 strong reserve stationed at Point du Jour. The 
 gallery of Mars was prepared for the Council of 
 the Ancients, the Orangery for the Five Hun- 
 dred. 
 
 On the morning of the 19th Brumaire (9th of 
 The 19th Bru- November), a formidable military 
 maire (Nov. 9) force, five thousand strong, sur- 
 al St. Cloud, rounded St. Cloud : the Legislature 
 •were not to deliberate, as on June 2d, under the 
 daggers of the populace, but the bayonets of the 
 soldiery. The Five Hundred, however, muster- 
 ed strong in the gardens of the palace. Formed 
 into groups, while the last preparations were go- 
 ing on in the hall which they were to occupy, 
 they discussed with warmth the extraordinary 
 position of public affairs, mutually sounded and 
 encouraged each other, and succeeded, even du- 
 ring that brief space, in organizing a very for- 
 midable opposition. The members of the Five 
 Hundred demanded of the Council of the An- 
 cients what they really proposed to themselves 
 as the result of the proceedings of the day. 
 "The government," said they, "isdecompo.sed." 
 "Admitted," replied the others; "but what then 1 
 Do you propose, instead of weak men, destitute 
 of renown, to place there Bonaparte 1" Those 
 of the Ancients who were in the secret ventured 
 to insinuate something about the necessity of a 
 military leader ; but the suggestion was ill re- 
 ceived, and the majority of the Five Hundred 
 "was every moment becoming stronger, from the 
 rumours which were spread of the approaching 
 dictatorship. The Ancients were violently sha- 
 ken at the unexpected resistance they had expe- 
 rienced, and numbers in the majority were al- 
 ready anxious to escape from the perilous enter- 
 prise on which they had adventured.t The 
 opinions of the Five Hundred were already un- 
 equivocally declared ; everything seemed to in- 
 dicate that the Legislature would triumph over 
 the conspirators. 
 
 It was in the midst of this uncertainty and 
 Excessive ve- disquietude that the councils opened, 
 hemence in Lucicn Bonaparte was in the chair 
 theFiveHun- of the Five Hundred. Gaudin as- 
 ''*' ■ cended the tribune, and commenced 
 
 a set speech, in which he dwelt, in emphatic 
 terms, on the dangers which threatened the coun- 
 try, and concluded by proposing a vote of thanks 
 to the Ancients for having transferred their de- 
 
 * Miirii., ii., 454. Th., x., 407. Nap., i.. 83, 85. Lac, 
 liv., 419. ' 
 
 t Th., X., 469, 472. Nap., i . 86, 87. Lac, liv., 419, 
 420. Jom., xii., 403. Goh., i., 272, 273. 
 
 liberations to St. Cloud, and the formation of a 
 committee of seven persons, to prepare a repent 
 upon the state of the Republic. Had this beea 
 carried, it was to have been luUowed up by th© 
 appcnntmenl of the consuls and an adjournment. 
 But no sooner iuid Gaudin concluded than the 
 most violent opposition arose. " The winds," 
 says Napoleon, "suddenly escaping from the 
 caverns of Jiolus, can give but a laint idea of 
 that tempest." Tlie speaker was violently drag- 
 ged from the tribune, and a frightful agitation 
 rendered any farther proceedings impossible. 
 " Down with the dictators ! Long live ihe Consti- 
 tution !" resounded on all sides. " The Consti- 
 tution or death !" exclaimed Delbrel ; " baj'on- 
 ets will not deter us ; we are .still free here." la 
 the midst of the tumult, Lucien in vain endeav- 
 oured to restore his authority. After a long 
 scene of confusion, one of the deputies proposed 
 that the assembly should swear fidelity to the 
 Constitution ; this proposal was instantly adopt- 
 ed, and the roll called for that purpo.se. This 
 measure answered the double purpose of binding 
 the council to support its authority, and givin-^ 
 time for the Jacobin leaders to be sent lor from 
 the capital. In fact, during the two hours that 
 the calling of the roll lasted, intelligence of the 
 resistance of the Five Hundred circulated in. 
 Paris with the rapidity of lightning, and Jour- 
 dan, Augereau, and other leaders of the Jacobin 
 party, believing that the enterprise had miscar- 
 ried, hastened to the scene of action. The Five 
 Hundred, during this delay, hoped that they 
 would have time to communicate with the Di- 
 rectory ; but before it terminated the intelligence 
 arrived that the government was dissolved, and 
 no executive authority remaining but in the per- 
 son of Napoleon.* 
 
 The danger was now imminent to that auda- 
 cious general: the Five Hundred , 
 
 1 . . .1 . . Imminent dan- 
 
 were so vehement ni their opposi- ger of Napole- 
 tion to him, that the whole mem- on, who enters 
 bers, including Lucien, were com- the Hall of the 
 pelled to take the oath to the Con- Ancients, 
 stitution; and in the Ancients, although his ad- 
 herents had the majority, the contest raged with 
 the utmost violence, and the strength of the mi- 
 nority was every instant increasing. The influ- 
 ential Jacobins were rapidly arriving from Paris j 
 they looked on the matter as already decided. 
 Everything depended on the troops ; and although 
 their attachment to Napoleon was well known, 
 it was extremely doubtful whether they would 
 not be overawed by the majesty of the Legisla- 
 ture. " Here you are," said Augereau to him 
 the moment he arrived, "in a happy position." 
 "Augereau," replied Napoleon, "recollect Ar- 
 eola; things then appeared much more desperate. 
 Take my word for it ; remain tranquil if you 
 would not become a victim. Half an hour 
 hence you will thank me for my advice." Not- 
 withstanding this .seeming confidence, however, 
 Napoleon fully felt the danger of his situation. 
 The influence of the Legislature was sensibly 
 felt on the troops; the boldest were beginning to 
 hesitate ; the zealous had already become timid :t 
 the timid had changed their colours. He saw 
 that there was not a moment to lose; and he re- 
 solved to present himself, at the head of his 
 staff, at the bar of the Ancients. "At that mo- 
 ment," said Napoleon, " I would have givea 
 
 * Nap., i.. 87. Lac, xiv., 420, 422. Th., x., 473, 474. 
 Goh., 1., 273, 27b. 
 
 t Th., X., 474, 475. Lac, xiv., 423, 424. Nap., i., 87, 
 83. LasCas., vii., 235. 
 
576 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVIL 
 
 two hundi'ed millions to have had Ney by my 
 side." 
 
 In this crisis Napoleon was strongly agitated. 
 He never possessed the faculty of powerful ex- 
 tempore elocution, a peculiarity not unfrequent- 
 ly the accompaniment of the most profound and 
 original thought ; and on this occasion, from the 
 vital interests at stake, and the vehement oppo- 
 sition with which he was assailed, he could 
 hardly utter anything intelligible.* So far as 
 his meaning could be gathered, amid the fright- 
 ful tumult which prevailed, it was to the follow- 
 ing purpose: "You are on the edge of 
 ^^je^ a volcano. Allow me to explain my- 
 self; you have called me and my com- 
 panions in arms to your aid * * * but you must 
 now take a decided part. I know they talk of 
 -Caesar and Cromwell, as if anything in antiquity 
 resembled the present moment. And you, gren- 
 adiers, whose feathers I perceive already waving 
 in the hall, say, have I ever failed in performing 
 the promises I made to you in the camps 1" The 
 soldiers replied by waring their hats, and loud 
 acclamations; but this appeal to the military, in 
 the bosom of the Legislature, wrought up to a 
 perfect fury the rage of the opposition. One of 
 their number, Linglet, rose and said, in a loud 
 voice, " General, we applaud your words ; swear, 
 then, obedience and fidelity to the Constitution, 
 ■which can alone save the Republic." Napoleon 
 hesitated; then replied with energy: " The Con- 
 stitution does not exist ; you yourselves violated 
 it on the 10th Fructidor, when the government 
 violated the independence of the Legislature; 
 you violated it on the 30th Prairial, when the 
 Legislative Body overthrew the independence of 
 the executive; you violated it on the 22d Flo- 
 real, when, by a sacrilegious decree, the govern- 
 ment and Legislature violated the sovereignty of 
 the people by annulling the elections which they 
 had made. Having subverted the Constitution, 
 new guarantees, a fresh compact, is required. I 
 declare that, as soon as the dangers which have 
 invested me with these extraordinary powers 
 have passed away, I will lay them down. I de- 
 sire only to be the arm which executes your 
 commands. If you call on me to explain 
 "what are the perils which threaten our country, 
 I have no hesitation in answering, that Barras 
 and Moulins have proposed to me to place my- 
 self at the head of a faction, the object of which 
 is to effect the overthrow of all the friends of 
 freedom." The energy of this speech, the un- 
 doubted truth and audacious falsehoods which it 
 contained, produced a great impression : three 
 fourths of the assembly arose and loudly testified 
 their applause. His party, recovering their cour- 
 age, spoke in his behalf, and he concluded with 
 these significant words : " Surrounded by my 
 brave companions in arms, I will second you. 
 I call you to witness, brave grenadiers, whose 
 hayonets I perceive, whom I have so often led to 
 victory ; I can bear witness to their courage ; we 
 will unite our efforts to save our country. And 
 if any orator," added he, with a menacing 
 voice, " paid by the enemy, should venture to 
 propose to put me hors la loi, I shall instantly 
 appeal to my companions in arms to extermi- 
 nate him on" the spot. Recollect that I march 
 accompanied by the god of fortune and the god 
 of war."t 
 
 Hardly was this harangue concluded, when 
 
 * Bour., iii., 83, 84, 112,114. 
 
 t Th., I., 477. Bour., iii., 85. Goh., i., 281, 288. 
 
 intelligence arrived that in the Coun- j^^ ^^^^^ , 
 cil of Five Hundred the calling of HalfoATie ^ 
 the roll had ceased; that Lucien Five Hundred, 
 could hardly maintain his ground Fngiurui <iis- 
 against the vehemence of the as- °^'^" '^*''^- 
 sembly, and that they were about to force him to 
 put to the vote a proposal to declare his brother 
 Ams la loi. It is a similar proposal which had 
 proved fatal to Robespierre : the cause of Napo- 
 leon seemed wellnigh desperate, for if it had been 
 passed there could be little doubt it would have 
 been obeyed by the soldiers. In truth, they had 
 gone so far as to declare that the oath of the 18th 
 Brumaire should receive a place as distinguish- 
 ed in history as that of the Jew de Pauvie, "the 
 first of which created liberty, while the second 
 consolidated it," and had decreed a message to 
 the Directory to make them acquainted with their 
 resolution. This decree was hardly passed, 
 when a messenger arrived with a letter from 
 Barras, containing his resignation of the office 
 of director, upon the ground "that now the dan- 
 gers of liberty were all surmonntcd, and the inter- 
 ests of the armies secured." This unlooked-for 
 communication renewed their perplexity, for 
 now it was evident that the executive itself was 
 dissolved.* 
 
 Napoleon, who clearly saw his danger, in- 
 stantly took his resolution. Boldly advancing 
 to the Hall of the Five Hundred, 'whose shouts 
 and cries already resounded to a distance, he en- 
 tered alone, uncovered, and ordered the soldiers 
 and oflicers of his suite to halt at the entrance. 
 In his passage to the bar he had to pass one half 
 of the benches. No sooner did he make his ap- 
 pearance, than half of the assembly rose up, ex- 
 claiming, " Death to the tyrant ! Down with the 
 dictator!" The scene which ensued baflies all 
 description. Hundreds of deputies rushed down 
 from the benches and surrounded the general, 
 exclaiming " Your laurels are all withered ; your 
 glory is turned into infamy ; is it for this you 
 have conquered? respect the sanctuary of the 
 laws; retire, retire." Two grenadiers, left at 
 the door, alarmed by the danger of their general, 
 rushed forward sword in hand, seized him by 
 the middle, and bore him, almost stupified, out 
 of the hall; in the tumult, one of them had his 
 clothes torn. Nothing was to be heard but the 
 cries, " No Cromwell ! Down with the dictator ! 
 Death to the dictator !"t 
 
 His removal increased rather than diminished 
 the tumult of the assembly. Lucien intrepid con- 
 alone, and unsupported in the presi- duct of Lu- , 
 dent's chair, was left to make head *'<="• 
 against the tempest. All his eflbrts to justify his 
 brother were in vain. "You would not hear 
 him," he exclaimed. "Down with the tyrant! 
 hnrs la loi with the tyrant !" resounded on all sides. 
 With rare firmness, he for long resisted the pro- 
 posal. At length, finding farther opposition 
 fruitless, he exclaimed, "You dare to condemn 
 a hero without hearing him in his defence. His 
 brother has but one duty left, and that is to de- 
 fend him. I renounce the chair, and hasten to 
 the bar to defend the illustrious accused;" and 
 with these words, deposing his insignia of presi- 
 dent, mounted the tribune. At that instant an 
 officer, despatched by Napoleon, with ten grena- 
 diers, presented himself at the door. It was at 
 first supposed that the troops had declared for 
 the council, and loud applause greeted their en- 
 
 + Goh., i ,291,203,295. 
 
 t Nap., i., 91. Th., x., 477, 478. Lac, xiv., 428. Goh., 
 i. , 298. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE, 
 
 577 
 
 trance. Taking advantage of the mistake, he 
 approached the tribune and laid hold ot'Lucien, 
 whispering, ai the same time, in his ear, " By 
 your brother's orders ;" while the grenadiers ex- 
 claimed, " Down with the assassins !" At these 
 words a mournful silence succeeded to the cries 
 of acclamation, and he was conducted without 
 opposition out of the hall.* 
 
 Meanwhile Napoleon had descended to the 
 D ssolution of court, mounted on horseback, order- 
 tlie Five Hun- ed the drums to beat the order to form 
 dred by au circle, and thus addressed the sol- 
 armed force, jjjgj-g . m ^as about to point out the 
 means of saving the country, and they answered 
 me with strokes of the poniard. They desire to 
 fulfil the wishes of the allied sovereigns — what 
 more could England do 1 Soldiers, can I rely on 
 you V Unanimous applause answered the ap- 
 peal ; and soon after the otficer arrived, bringing 
 out Lucien from the council. He instantly 
 mounted on horseback, and, with Napoleon, rode 
 along the ranks ; then, halting in the centre, said, 
 with a voice of thunder, which was heard along 
 the whole line, " Citizen soldiers ! the President 
 of the Council of Five Hundred declares to you 
 that the immense majority of that body is en- 
 thralled by a factious band, armed with stilettoes, 
 who besiege the tribune, and interdict all free- 
 dom of deliberation. General, and you, soldiers, 
 and you, citizens, you can no longer recognise 
 any as legislators but those who are around me. 
 Let force expel those who remain in the Orange- 
 ry; they are not the representatives of the peo- 
 ple, but the representatives of the poniard. Let 
 that name forever attach to them, and if they dare 
 to show themselves to the people, let all fingers 
 point to them as the representatives of the pon- 
 iard." " Soldiers," added Napoleon, " can I rely 
 on you V The soldiers, however, appeared still to 
 hesitate, when Lucien, as a last resource, turn- 
 ed to his brother, and, raising his sword in his 
 hand, swore to plunge it in his breast if ever he 
 belied the hopes of the Republicans, or made an 
 attempt on the liberty of France. This last ap- 
 peal was decisive. " Vive Bonaparte !" was the 
 answer. He then ordered Murat and Lq Clerc to 
 march a battalion into the council and dissolve 
 the assembly. " Charge bayonets !" was the word 
 given. They entered slowly in, and the officer 
 in command notified to the council the order to 
 dissolve. Jourdan and several other deputies re- 
 sisted, and began to address the soldiers on the 
 enormity of their conduct. Hesitation was al- 
 ready visible in their ranks, when Le Clerc, enter- 
 ing with a fresh body, in close column, instantly 
 ordered the drums to beat and the charge to sound. 
 He exclaimed, "Grenadiers, forward!" and the 
 soldiers slowly advancing, with fixed bayonets, 
 speedily cleared the hall, the dismayed deputies 
 throwing themselves from the windows, and rush- 
 ing out at every aperture to avoid the shock.t 
 
 Intelligence of the violent dissolution of the 
 Nocturnal ^^"^^ Hundred was conveyed by the 
 meetin? of the fugitives to the Ancients, who were 
 conspirators in thrown by this event into the utmost 
 Thei^'dTc^rees' consternation. They had expected 
 that that body would have yielded 
 without violence, and were thunderstruck by the 
 open use of bayonets on the occasion. Lticien 
 immediately appeared at their bar, and made the 
 same apology he had done to the troops for the 
 
 * Goh.,i.,2y8, 308. 
 
 -t Nap., i.. 93. .Mign., ii., 458, 459. Th., x.. 479,480. 
 Lhc, XIV., 431. Jom., xii., 400, 408. Bour., iii., 93, 97. 
 Goh., 1., 309, 311. 
 
 cffiip d'itat which had been employed, viz., that a 
 factious minority liad put an end to all free- 
 dom of deliberation by the use of poniards, which 
 rendered the application of force indi.spensable; 
 that nothing had been done contrary to forms; 
 that he had himself authorized the employment 
 of the military. The council were satisfied, or 
 feigned to be ,so, with this explanation.; and at 
 nine at night the remnant of the Five Hundred, 
 who were in the interests of Napoleon, five-and- 
 thirty only in number, under the direction of Lu- 
 cien, assembled in the Orangery, and voted a res- 
 olution, declaring that Bonaparte and the troops 
 under his orders had deserved well of their coun- 
 try. " Representatives of the people," said that 
 audacious partisan in his opening speech, " this 
 ancient palace of the kings of France, where we 
 are now assembled, attests that jioioer is nothing, 
 and that glory is everything." At eleven at night, 
 a few members of the two councils, not amount- 
 ing in all to sixty persons, assembled, and unani- 
 mously passed a decree abolishing the Directo- 
 ry, expelling sixty-one members Irom the coun- 
 cils as demagogues, adjourning the Legislature 
 for three months, and vesting the executive pow- 
 er in the mean time in Napoleon, Sieyes, and 
 Roger Ducos, under the title of provisional con- 
 suls. Two commissions, of twenty-five mem- 
 bers each, were appointed from each council, to 
 combine with the consuls in the formation of a 
 new Constitution.* 
 
 During these two eventful days, the people of 
 Paris, though deeply interested in 
 the issue of the struggle, and trem- JoynPansat 
 bling with anxiety lest the horrors of ^^'^ ^^^'^ ^' 
 the Revolution should be renewed, remained per- 
 fectly tranquil. In the evening of the 19th, re- 
 ports of the failure of the enterprise were general- 
 ly spread, and diffused the most mortal disquie- 
 tude ; for all ranks, worn out with the agitation 
 and sufferings of past convulsions, passionately 
 longed for repose, and it was generally felt that 
 it could be obtained only under the shadow of 
 military authority. But at length the result was 
 communicated by the fugitive members of the 
 Five Hundred, who arrived from St. Cloud, loud- 
 ly exclaiming against the military violence of 
 which they had been the victims; and at nine 
 at night the intelligence was officially announced 
 by a proclamation of Napoleon, which was read 
 by torchlight to the agitated groups.tt 
 
 * Nap., i., 94, 95. Jom., xii., 409. Th., x., 481. Goh., 
 i., 314, 334. 
 
 tNap., i., 98. Th.,x., 482. Jom., xii., 410. 
 
 t This proclamation is chiefly remarkable for the unblush- 
 ing etfronteiy with which it set forth a statement of facts, 
 utterly at variance with what above a thousand witnesses, 
 only tive miles from the capital, had themselves beheld, and 
 which Napoleon himself has subsequently recorded in his 
 own Memoirs, from which the preceding narrative has in 
 part been taken. He there said, "At my return to Paris I 
 found division among all the authorities, and none agreed 
 except on this single point, that the Constitution was half 
 destroyed and could no longer save the public liberty. All 
 parties came to me, and unfolded their designs, but I refu- 
 sed to belong to any of them. The Council of the Ancients 
 then summoned lue ; I answered their appeal. A plan for a 
 general restoration had been concerted among the men in 
 whom the nation had been accustomed to see the defenders 
 of its liberty, its equality, and property ; but that plan de- 
 manded a calm and deliberate investigation, exempt from all 
 agitation or control, and therefore the Legislative Body was 
 transferred by the Council of the Ancients to St. Cloud." 
 After narraling the events of the morning of the 18th, it 
 proceeded thus : " I presented myself to the Council of the 
 Five Hundred, alone and unarmed, in the same manner as I 
 hud been received with transport by the Ancients. I was 
 desirous of rousing the majority to an exertion of its author- 
 ity, when twenty assassins precipitated themselves on me, 
 and I was only sared from iheir hands by the brave grena- 
 
578 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVII. 
 
 With the exception of the Legislature, howev- 
 Generai satis- ^^' ^11 parlies declared for the rev- 
 factiou ivhich olution of the 18th Brumaire. The 
 it diffused Violation of the laws and coups d'eUU 
 through the }ja(l been so common during the 
 ouu ry. Revolution, that the people had ceas- 
 
 ed to regard them as illegal, and they were judged 
 of entirely by their consequences. To such a 
 height had the anarchy and distresses of the coun- 
 try arisen in the latter years of the Revolution, 
 that repose and a regular government had become 
 the object of universal desire at any price, even 
 the extinction of the very liberty to attain which 
 all these misfortunes had been undergone. The 
 feeling, accordingly, not only of Paris, but of 
 France, was universal in favour of the new gov- 
 ernment. All parties hoped to see their peculiar 
 tenets forwarded by the change. The Constitu- 
 tionalists trusted that rational freedom would at 
 length be established; the Royalists rejoiced that 
 the first step towards a regular government had 
 been made, and secretly indulged the hope that 
 Bonaparte would play the part of General Monk, 
 and restore the throne ; the great body of the 
 people, weary of strife and exhausted by suffer- 
 ing, passionately rejoiced at the commencement 
 of repose ; the numerous exiles and proscribed 
 families regained the prospect of revisiting their 
 coiuiti^', and drawing their last breath in that 
 France which was still so dear to them. Ten 
 years had wrought a centur}' of experience. 
 The nation was as unanimous in 1799 to termi- 
 nate the era of Revolution, as in 1789 it had been 
 to commence it.* 
 
 Napoleon rivalled Csesar in the clemency with 
 Clemency of which he used his victory. No pro- 
 Napoieou af- scriptions or massacres, few arrests 
 ter his victory, or imprisonments, followed the tri- 
 umph of order over Revolution. On the con- 
 trary, numerous acts of mercy, as wise as they 
 were magnanimous, illustrated the rise of the 
 consular throne. The law of hostages and the 
 forced loan were abolished ; the priests and per- 
 sons proscribed by the revolution of the I8th Fruc- 
 tidor permitted to return ; the emigrants who 
 had been shipwrecked on the coast of France, 
 and thrown into prison, where they had been 
 confined for four years, were set at liberty. 
 Measures of severity were at first put in force 
 against the violent Republicans, but they were 
 gradually relaxed, and finally abandoned. Thir- 
 ty-seven of this obnoxious party were ordered to 
 be transported to Guiana, and twenty-one to be 
 put under the obsen-ation of the police ; but the 
 sentence of transportation was soon changed 
 into one of svrveillunce, and even that was short- 
 ly abandoned. Nine thousand state prisoners, 
 who languished at the fall of the Directory in 
 the state prisons of France, received their liberty. 
 Their numbers, two years before, had been sixty 
 
 diers, who rushed to me from the door. The savage cry of 
 ' Hers la loi' arose ; the howl of violence against the force 
 destined to repress it. The assassins instantly surrounded 
 the president ; I heard of It, and sent ten grenadiers, who 
 extricated him from their hands. The factious, intimida- 
 ted, ieft the hall and dispersed. The majority, relieved from 
 their strokes, re-entered peaceably into its hali, deliberated 
 on the propositions submitted to it in the name of the pub- 
 lic weal, and passed a salutary resolution, which will be- 
 come the basis of the provisional Constitution of the Repub- 
 lic." Under such colours did Napoleon veil one of the most 
 violent usurpations against a legislature recorded in history. 
 When such falsehood was emyloyed in matters occurring at 
 St. Cloud, It renders probable all that Boumenne has said 
 of the falsehood of the bulletins in regard to more distant 
 transactions. — See Napoleon, i., 98, 101. 
 * Align., li., 462. Lac., xiv., 433, 434. 
 
 thousand. The elevation of Napoleon was not 
 only unstained by blood, but not even a single 
 captive long lamented the car of the victor. A 
 signal triumph of the principles of humanity 
 over those of cruelty, glorious alike to the actors 
 and the age in which it occurred ; and a mem- 
 orable proof how much more durable the victo- 
 ries gained by moderation and wisdom are, than 
 those achieved by violence and stained by 
 blood.* 
 
 The revolution of the iSlh Brumaire had es- 
 tablished a provisional government 
 and overturned the Directoiy, but I'^Zl't 
 It still remained to form a permanent 
 Constitution. lu the formation of it, a rupture 
 took place between Sieyes and Napoleon. The 
 views of the former, long based on speculative 
 opinions, and strongly tinged with Republican 
 ideas, were little likely to accord with those of 
 the young conqueror, accustomed to rule ever}'- 
 ihing by his single determination, and whose 
 sagacity had already discovered the impossibility 
 of forming a stable government out of the insti- 
 tutions ol the Revolution. He allowed Sieyes 
 to mould, according to his pleasure, the Legisla- 
 ture, which was to consist of a Senate, or Upper 
 Chamber; a Legislative Body, without the pow- 
 er of debate ; and a Tribunate, which was to 
 discuss the legislative measures with the Coun- 
 cil of State ; but opposed the most vigorous re- 
 sistance to the plan which he brought forward 
 for the executive, which was so absurd that it i.s 
 hardly possible to imagine how it could have 
 been seriously proposed by a man of ability. 
 The plan of this veteran constitution-maker, 
 who had boasted to Talleyrand ten years before 
 that " politics was a science which he flattered 
 himself he had brought to perfection, "+ was to 
 have vested the executive in a single Grand 
 Ekdor, who was to inhabit Versailles, with a 
 salary of 000,000 francs a year, and a guard of 
 six thousand men, and represent the state to for- 
 eign powers. This singular magistrate was to 
 be vested with no immediate authority ; but his 
 functions were to consist in the power of naming 
 two consuls, who were to exercise all the powers 
 of government, the one being charged with the 
 interior, the finances, police, and public justice; 
 the other the exterior, including war, marine, 
 and foreig-n afiairs. He was to have a Council 
 of State, to discuss with the Legislature all public 
 measures. He was to be irresponsible, but lia- 
 ble to removal at the pleasure of the senate. It 
 was easy to perceive that, though he imagined 
 he was acting on general principles. Sieves, irj 
 this project, was governed by his own interests ; 
 that the .situation of grand elector he destined for 
 himself, and the military consulship for the con- 
 queror of Areola and Rivoli.} 
 
 Napoleon, who saw at once that this senseless 
 project, besides presenting insurmountable dif- 
 ficulties in practice, would reduce him to a sec- 
 ondary part, exerted all his talents to combat the 
 plan of Sieyes. " Can you suppose," said he, 
 "that any man of talent or consideration will 
 submit to the degrading situation assigned to the 
 grand elector ? What man, disposing of the na- 
 tional force, would be base enough to submit to 
 the discretion of a senate, which, by a simple 
 vote, could send him from Versailles to a second 
 flat in Paris 1 Were I a grand elector, I would 
 name as my consul of the exterior Berthier, and 
 
 * Nap. in Month., i., 178. Mign., ii.. 4G3. Lac., liv., 
 434, 440. t Diim., 64. Ante, 72, 
 
 t Jom., vii., 413, 415. Mign., ii., 4C4, 465. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 579 
 
 for the interior some other person of the same 
 stamp. 1 would prescribe to them their nomi- 
 nations of ministers, and the instant that they 
 ceased to be my statf-otiicers I would overturn 
 them." Sieyes replied, " that in that case the 
 grand elector would be absorbed by the senate." 
 This phrase got wind, and threw such ridicule 
 over the plan in the minds of the Parisians, that 
 even its author was compelled to abandon it. 
 He soon found that his enterprising colleague 
 would listen to no project which interfered with 
 the supreme power, which he had already re- 
 solved to obtain for himself, and which, in truth, 
 ■was the only form of government capable, at 
 that period, of arresting the disorders, or termi- 
 nating the miseries, of France.* 
 
 The ideas of Napoleon were unalterably fixed; 
 Napoleon's ap- but he was too clear-sighted not to 
 psintmeat as perceive that time and a concession, 
 First Consul, jn form at least, to public opinion 
 ■were necessary to bring them into practice. " I 
 was convinced," says he, " that France could not 
 exist but under a monarchical form of govern- 
 ment; but the circumstances of the times were 
 such that it was thought, and perhaps was, ne- 
 cessary to disguise the supreme power of the 
 president. All opinions were reconciled by the 
 nomination of a First Consul, who alone should 
 possess the authority of government, since he 
 singly disposed of all situations, and possessed a 
 deliberative voice, while the two others were 
 merely his advisers. That supreme officer gave 
 the government the advantage of unity of direc- 
 tion ; the two others, whose names appeared to 
 every public act, would soothe the Republican 
 jealousy. The circumstances of the times would 
 not permit a better form of government." After 
 long discussion, this project was adopted. The 
 government was, in fact, exclusively placed in the 
 hands of the First Consul ; the two other consuls 
 had a right to enlighten him by their counsels, 
 but not to restrain him by their vote. The Sen- 
 ate, itself nominated by the consuls, selected out 
 of the list of candidates who had been chosen by 
 the nation those who were to be the members of 
 the Tribunate and Legislature. Government 
 alone was invested with the right of proposing 
 laws. The Legislative Body was interdicted the 
 right of speaking ; it was merely to deliberate 
 and decide upon the questions discussed before 
 it by the Tribunate, and the Council of State 
 nominated by the consuls ; the first being under- 
 stood to represent the interests of the people, the 
 second that of the government. The Legislative 
 Body was thus transformed from its essential 
 character in a free state, that of a deliberative as- 
 sembly, into a supreme court, which heard the 
 state pleadings, and by its decision formed the 
 law.t 
 
 The people no longer were permitted to choose 
 deputies for themslves, either in their primax}' as- 
 semblies or electoral colleges. They were al- 
 lowed only to choose the perscms cligibk to these 
 offices, and from the lists thus furnished govern- 
 ment made its election. The whole citizens first 
 chose a tenth of their number in each arrondisse- 
 ment, who formed the electors of the comrwum. 
 This body, composed of the electors, again chose 
 out of the list of eligible persons for the dcpart- 
 •meiit a tenth, who were to form the departmental 
 electors, and they again a tenth of their body, 
 •who formed the list out of which the Legislature 
 
 * .lom., xn., 417. 418. Nap., li., 141, 143. Mign., ii.,4f)8. 
 t Mion., ii., 464, 465. Const., tit. in. Nap., i., 363, 
 364. Bi^on, i., 27, 28. 
 
 was to be chosen. The Senate, in the close of 
 all, selected such as it chose out of the last list, 
 thus trebly purified, to form the Legislative Body. 
 The senators being nominated by'the First Con- 
 sul, and holding their situations for life, the whole 
 Legislature was subjected to the control of the ex- 
 ecutive. Its duty was strictly conservative, to 
 watch over the maintenance of the fundamental 
 laws, and the purification of the other branches 
 of the Legislature. All public functionaries, civil 
 and military, including the whole judges, instead 
 of being chosen, as heretofore, by the people, were 
 appointed by the First Consul, who thus became 
 the sole depositary of influence. The lowest 
 species of judges, called jj/o^a^Zc^azz, were alone 
 left in the gifi of the people.* By means of the 
 Senate, chosen from his creatures, he regulated 
 the Legislature, and possessed the sole initiative 
 of laws ; by the appointment to every office, he 
 wielded the whole civil force of the state ; by the 
 command of the military, he overawed the dis- 
 contented, and governed its external relations. 
 
 The departmental lists were the most singular 
 part of the new Constitution. Evei-}' outlines of 
 person bom and residing in France, the new Con- 
 above twenty-one, was a citizen, but stuution. 
 the rights of citizenship were lost by bankruptcy, 
 domestic service, crime, or foreign naturaliza- 
 tion. But the electors were a much more limited 
 bod}'. " The citizens of each arrondissement 
 chose by their suffrages those whom they deem- 
 ed fit to conduct public affairs, amounting to not 
 more than a tenth of the electors. The persons 
 contained in this first list were alone eligible to 
 official situations in the arrondissement from 
 which they were chosen. The citizens embraced 
 in this list chose a tenth of their number for each 
 department, which formed the body alone eligible 
 for departmental situations. The citizens chosen 
 by the departmental electors again selected a 
 tenth of their number, which formed the body 
 alone capable of being elected for national situa- 
 tions."+ The persons on the first list were only 
 eligible to the inferior situations, such as juges de 
 paix, a species of arbiters to reconcile differences 
 and prevent lawsuits ; those on the second were 
 the class from whom might be selected the pre- 
 fects, the departmental judges, tax-gatherers, and 
 collectors; those on the third, who amounted only 
 to six thousand persons, were alone eligible to pub- 
 lic offices, as the Legislature, any of the minis- 
 tries of state, the Senate, the Council of State, the 
 Tribunal of Cassation, the ambassadors at for- 
 eign courts. Thus the whole offices of state 
 were centred in six thousand persons, chosen by 
 a treble election from the citizens. The lists 
 were to be revised, and all the vacancies filled up 
 every three years. These lists of notability, as 
 Napoleon justly observed, formed a limited and 
 exclusive nobility, difiering from the old noblesse 
 only in this, that it was elective, not hereditar}' ; 
 and it was, from the very first, subject to the ob- 
 jection that it excluded from the field of compe- 
 tition many of the most appropriate persons to 
 hold public situations. The influence of the peo- 
 ple in the Legislature was, by these successive 
 elections, completely destroyed, and the whole 
 power of the state, it was early foreseen, would 
 centre in the First Consul.; The changes intro- 
 duced diff"used, however, general satisfaction. 
 
 All the members of the Legislature received 
 pensions from government : that of the senators 
 
 * Joni., xii., 420. 421. Mi?n , ii., 464, 468, 469. Const., 
 tit. iv., sec. 41. Bi^n., i., 27, 28. 
 t Const., tu. i., sec. 78, 79. } Nap., i., 139, 140. 
 
580 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVIL 
 
 was 25,000 francs, or £1000 a year; that of the 
 Tribunate, 15,000 francs, or £650 yearly ; that of 
 the Legislative Body, 10,000 francs, or £400 a 
 year. The Senate was composed of persons above 
 forty years of age; the Legislative Body, above 
 thirty. A senator remained in that high station 
 for life, and was ineligible to any other situation.* 
 On the 24th of December, 1799, the new Con- 
 Appointments stitution was proclaimed, and the 
 in administia- whole appomtments were lorthwith 
 tion made by filled up, without waiting for the 
 Napoleon. ij^jg of (he eligible, who were, ac- 
 cording to its theor}', to be chosen by the people. 
 Two consuls, eighty senators, a hundred tribunes, 
 three hundred legislators, were forthwith nomi- 
 nated, and proceeded to the exercise of all the 
 functions of government. In the choice of per- 
 sons to fill such a multitude of oflices, ample 
 means existed to reward the moderate, and seduce 
 the Republican party ; and the consuls made a 
 judicious and circumspect use of the immense 
 influence put into their hands. Sieyes, discon- 
 tented with the overthrow of his favourite ideas, 
 retired from the government ; received as a re- 
 ward for his sen-ices 600,000 francs and the es- 
 tate of Crosne, afterward changed for the more 
 valuable domain of Faisanderie in the park of 
 Versailles ; and the Democratic fervour of the 
 author of the pamphlet, " What is the Tiers 
 Etat 1" sunk into the interested apathy of the 
 proprietor of fifty thousand poimds. Roger Du- 
 ces also withdrew, perceiving the despotic turn 
 which things were taking; and Napoleon ap- 
 pointed in their stead Cambaceres and Le Brun, 
 men of moderation and probity, who worthily 
 discharged the subordinate functions assigned to 
 them in the administration. " In the end," said 
 Napoleon, " you must come to the government 
 of boots and spurs, and neither Sieyes nor Roger 
 Ducos was fit for that."t; Talleyrand was made 
 minister of foreign afl^airs, and Fouche retained 
 
 * Const., tit. ii. and iii. Nap., i., 361, 362. 
 
 * Las Cas., ii., 353. 
 
 * A curious incident occurred on occasion of the dismissal 
 of Sieyes, highly charactenstic of the disposition of that 
 veteran of the Revolution, as well as of the preceding gov- 
 ernments. At the first meeting which Napoleon had with 
 him in the apartments of the Directory, Sieyes, after cau- 
 tiously shutting the doors, and looking around to see that he 
 was not overheard, said, in a low voice, to Napoleon, point- 
 ing to a bureau, " Do you see that piece of furniture r You 
 will not easily guess what it is worth. It contains 800,000 
 francs. During our magisterial duties, we came to perceive 
 that it would be unseemly for a director to leave office with- 
 out being worth a farthing ; and we therefore fell upon the 
 expedient of getting this dep6t, from whence cvei-y one who 
 retired might take a suitable sum. But now the Directory 
 IS dissolved, what shall we do with it ?" "If I had been offi- 
 cially informed of it," said Napoleon, " it must have been re- 
 stored to the public treasury ; but as that is not the case, I 
 am not supposed to know anything of the matter. Take it, 
 and divide it with Ducos, but make haste, for to-morrow 
 it may be too late." Sieyes did not require a second bidding ; 
 that very day he took out the treasure, " but appropriated," 
 says Napoleon, " 600,000 francs to himself, and gave only 
 200,000 to poor Ducos." In truth, Ducos got only 100,000 ; 
 the Grand Elector absorbed all the rest."" This tre.isure, 
 however, was far from satisfying Sieyes. One day, soon 
 after, he said to Napoleon, " How fortunate you are ; all 
 the glory of the 18th Brumaire has fallen to your lot, while 
 I shall probably incur only blame for my share in the at- 
 tempt." " What I" exclaimed Napoleon, " have not the 
 consular commissaries passed a resolution that you have de- 
 served well of your country 1 Tell me honestly, what do 
 you want V Sieyes, with a ridiculous grimace, replied, 
 " Do you not think, citizen consul, that .some national do- 
 main, a monument of the national gratitude, would be a fit 
 recompense to one who has co-operated with you in your 
 great designs ?" " Oh ! I understand jou now." said Napo- 
 leon ; " I will speak with Ducos on the subject." Two days 
 afterward appeared a decree of the commission of the coun- 
 
 « Goh., u.,6. 
 
 in that of the police ; the illustrious La Place 
 received the portfolio of the interior. By the lat- 
 ter appointments Napoleon hoped to calm the 
 fears and satisfy the ambition of the Republican 
 part}'. Sieyes was very adverse to the continu- 
 ance of Fouche in office ; but Napoleon was 
 resolute. '• We have arrived," said he, " at a new- 
 era ; we must recollect in the past only the good, 
 and forget the bad. Age, the habits of business, 
 and experience, have formed or modified many 
 characters." High salaries were given to all the 
 public functionaries, on condition only that they 
 should live in a style of splendour suitable to 
 their station : a wise measure, which both secu- 
 red the attachment of that powerful body of men, 
 and precluded them from acquiring such an in- 
 dependence as might enable them to dispense 
 with the employment of government.* 
 
 Such was the exhaustion of the French 
 people occasioned bv revolutionary 
 convulsions, that this Constitution, jon^yofX*' 
 destroying, as it did, all the objects peopiewhoap- 
 for which the people had combated proved of the 
 for ten years, was gladly adopted by "«^ Constitu- 
 an immense majority of the electors. 
 It w^as approved of by 3,011,007 citizens, while 
 that of 1 793 had only obtained 1 ,801 ,9 18 sufirages, 
 and that in 1795, which established the Direc- 
 tory, 1,057,390.+ These numbers are highly in- 
 structive. They demonstrate, what so many 
 other considerations conspire to indicate, that 
 even the most vehement changes are brought 
 about by a factious and energetic minority, and 
 that it is often more the supineness than the 
 numerical inferiority of the better class of citi- 
 zens which subjects them to the tyranny of the 
 lowest. In 1789, indeed, the great majority of all 
 classes were carried away by the fever of inno- 
 vation ; but these transports were of short dura- 
 tion ; and from the time that the sombre days of 
 the Revolution began, their numerical superior- 
 ity was at an end. It was the terrors and dis- 
 union of the class of proprietors, which, by leav- 
 ing no power in the state but the populace and 
 their demagogues, delivered the nation over to 
 the horrors of Jacobin slavery. 
 
 Such was the termination of the changes of 
 the French Revolution, and such p^fl„^,- „„ „„ 
 
 , 1.11 1 Ketiections ou 
 
 the government which the people the accession 
 brought upon tliemselves by their of Napoleon to 
 sins and their extravagance. On tli" consular 
 the 23d of June, 1789, before one *'"°°^- 
 drop of blood had been .shed or one estate confis- 
 cated, Louis offered the States-General a consti- 
 tution containing all the elements of real freedom, 
 with all the guarantees which experience has 
 proved to be necessary for its duration ; the se- 
 curity of property, the liberty of the press, per- 
 sonal freedom, equality of taxation, provincial 
 assemblies, the voting of taxes by the States- 
 General, and the vesting of the legislative power 
 in the representatives of the three estates in their 
 separate chambers.? The popular representa- 
 tives, seduced by the phantom of Democratic 
 ambition, refused the offer, usurped for them- 
 
 cils, awarding to Sieyes the national domain of Crosne, ia 
 "name of national recompense." But Sifiyes soon found 
 out that the nation had not the right to dispose of the estate 
 of Crosne, and it was exchanged for the superb Hotel del 
 Infantado in Paris, and the nch lands of Faisanderie in the 
 park of Versailles.— See Napoleon, i., 146 ; Las Casas, 
 ii.. 350, and GoHiER, ii., 5, 8. 
 
 * Mign., ii., 408,469. Jom.,xii., 422,423. Nap., i., 113» 
 Goh.. li., 6, 8. 
 1 t Mign., ii., 469. t See ante, 72, 73. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 581 
 
 selves the whole powers of sovereignty, and with 
 relentless rigour pursued their victory, till they 
 had destroyed the clergy, the nobles, and the 
 throne. France waded through an ocean of 
 blood ; calamities unheard of assailed every 
 class, from the throne to the cottage ; for ten long 
 years the struggle continued, and at length it ter- 
 minated in the establishment, by universal con- 
 sent, of a government which swept away every 
 remnant of freedom, and consigned the state to 
 the tranquillity of military despotism.* 
 Had tliis been merely a temporary result, the 
 friends of freedom might have found 
 '^"'^^h^'i b'^''^" some consolation in the reflection 
 readered im-'' ^^^^ 'he elements, at least, of ulti- 
 possible by the mate liberty were laid, and that the 
 destruction of passing storm had renovated, not 
 the anstocra- destroyed, the face of society. But 
 
 cyana Clergy. , ., „„„„, j„„i 
 
 servitude. Casual bursts of Democratic passion 
 cannot maintain a long contest in a corrupted 
 age with the steady efforts of a regular govern- 
 ment ; and if they could, they would lead only to 
 the transference of despotic power from one set 
 of rulers to another, it is hard to say whether 
 liberty has most to dread, in such circumstances, 
 from its friends or its enemies. 
 
 Durable freedom is to be secured only by the 
 steady, persevering efforts of an aristocracy," sup- 
 ported, when necessary, by the enthusiasm of 
 the people, and hindered from running into ex- 
 cess by the vigour of the executive. In all ages 
 of the world, and under all forms of government, 
 it is in the equipoise of these powers that free- 
 dom has been formed, and from the destructioa 
 of one of them that the commencement of servi- 
 tude is to be dated. The French Revolution, by 
 the evil went a great deal deeper. I totally destroying the whole class of the aristoc- 
 
 In their Democratic fervour, the people had pulled 
 down the bulwarks, not only of order, but of 
 liberty ; and when France emerged from the tem- 
 pest, the classes were extinct whose combined 
 and counteracting influence are necessary for its 
 existence. 
 
 "The principle of the French Revolution," 
 says Napoleon, "being the absolute equality of 
 all classes, there resulted from it a total want of 
 aristocracy. If a republic is difficult to con- 
 struct on anydurable basis without an order of 
 nobles, mucbmore so is a monarch)'. To form 
 a Constitutici in a country destitute of any spe- 
 cies of aristaracy, is like attempting to navigate 
 in a single slement. The French Revolution 
 has attemptd a problem as insoluble as the di- 
 rection of alloons."t "A monarchy," says 
 Lord Bacor, " where there is no nobility at all, 
 is ever a pire and absolute tyranny, as that of 
 the Turks for nobility attempers sovereignty, 
 and draws ne eyes (>f the people somewhat aside 
 from the lie royal.'': In these protbund obser- 
 vations is ti be found the secret of the subsequent 
 experience impossibility of constructing a du- 
 rable free government in France, or preserving 
 anything ike a balance between the different 
 classes of ociety. The Revolution had left only 
 the goverment, the army, and the people; no 
 intermedi.e rank existed to counteract the in- 
 fluence ofihe former, or give durability to the 
 exertions f the latter. Left to themselves, the 
 people we; no match in the long run for an ex- 
 ecutive w Iding the whole military force of the 
 kingdom, nd disposing, in offices and appoint- 
 ments, of oove £40,000,000 a year. In moments 
 ofexcitennt, the Democratic spirit may become 
 powerful, nd by infecting the military, give a 
 momentai triumph to the populace; but with 
 the cessatn of the effervescence, the influence 
 of govemiint must return with redoubled force, 
 and the peile be again subjected to the yoke of 
 
 * So evidtly was this result the punishment of the 
 crimes of thievolution, that it appeared in that light even 
 to some of tVprincipal actors in that convulsion. In a let- 
 ter written tSifiyes to Riouffe at that period, he said, " It 
 is, then, for ;h a result that the French nation has gone 
 through its polution ! The ambitious villain I he march- 
 es successfu. through all the ways of fortune and crime : 
 all is vanityistrust, and terror. There is here neither 
 elevation nonerality. Providence vjishes to punish us by 
 the Revolutiotself. Our chains are too humiliating; on 
 all sides notl^ is to be seen but powers prostrated ; leaden 
 oppression, mary despotism, is alone triumphant. If any- 
 thing could ne us retain some esteem for the nation, it is 
 the luxury of rfidy of which it has been the victim. But 
 the right of thabre is the weakest of all. for it is the one 
 which IS soon worn out." — Letter, Sieyks to Riouffe, 
 Jan. 17, 1800 [ard., vii., 371. 
 
 t Nap., i., , Ue. i Bacon, ii., 282. 
 
 racy, and preventing, by the abolition of primo- 
 geniture, its reconstruction, has rendered this 
 balance impossible, and, instead of the elements 
 of European freedom, left in society only the in- 
 struments and the victims of Asiatic despotism. 
 It is as impossible to construct a durable free 
 government with such materials, as it would be 
 to form glass or gunpowder with two only of the, 
 three elements of which they are composed; and 
 the result has completely established the truth, 
 of these principles. The despotism of Napoleoa 
 was, till his lall, the most rigorous of any in 
 Europe; and, although France enjoyed fifteea 
 years of liberty under the Restoration, when the 
 swords of Alexander and Wellington had righted 
 the balance, and the recollection of subjugatioa 
 had tamed for a time the aspirations of Democ- 
 racy, yet, with the rise of a new generation and 
 the oblivion of former disaster, the scales were 
 anew subverted, the constitutional monarchy was 
 overturned, and from amid the srnoke of the Bar- 
 ricades, the awful figure of military power agaia 
 emerged. 
 
 Grievous as has been the injury, however, to 
 the cause of freedom which the ruin Disastrous 
 of the French aristocracy has occa- effects of the 
 sioned, it is not so great or so irre- in-eligion of 
 parable as has resulted from the de- I'r^iuce. 
 struction of the Church, and consequent irreli- 
 gion of the most energetic part of the population. 
 This evil has spread to an unparalleled extent, 
 and produced mischiefs of incalculable magni- 
 tude. If it be true, as the greatest of their philos- 
 ophers has declared, that it was neither their 
 numbers, nor their talent, nor their military spirit 
 which gave the Romans the empire of the world, 
 but the religious feeling which animated their 
 people,* it may be conceived what consequences 
 must have resulted from the extinction of public 
 worship over a whole country, and the educatioa 
 of a generation ignorant of the very elements of 
 religious belief It is the painful duty of the 
 moralist to trace the consequences of so shock- 
 ing an act of national impiety in the progressive 
 dissolution of manners, the growth of selfishness, 
 and the unrestrained career of passion, by which 
 so large a portion of the French people have since 
 been distinguished; but its effects upon public 
 freedom are, in a political point of view, equally 
 
 * Nee numeroHispanos, nee roboreGallos, nee calliditata 
 Poenos, nee artihus Graecos, nee denique hoc ipso hujns gen- 
 tis et leirse domestico nativoque sensu, Italos ipsos et Lati- 
 nos ; sed pietate ac religione, alque hac una sapientia, quod 
 Deorum immortalium numine omnia regi gubernarique per- 
 speximus, onmes gantes, nationesque superavimus. — CI- 
 CERO. 
 
582 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 [Chap. XXVJT. 
 
 important. Libert}'- is essentially based on the 
 generous feelings of oar nature ; it requires often 
 the sacrifice of private gratification tor the pub- 
 lic good; it can never subsist for any length of 
 time without that heroic self-denial which can 
 only be founded on the promises and the belief 
 of religion. We must not confound with this 
 generous and elevated spirit the desire for licen- 
 tiousness, which chafes against every control, 
 whether human or divine ; the one is the burst 
 of vegetation in its infancy, and gives promise 
 of the glories of summer and the riches of har- 
 vest ; the other, the fermentation which precedes 
 corruption. By destroying the Church, and edu- 
 cating a whole generation without any religious 
 principle, France has given a blow to her free- 
 dom and her prosperity from which she can 
 never recover. The fervour of Democracy, the 
 extension of knowledge, will give but a transient 
 support to liberty when deprived of that peren- 
 nial supply which is derived from the sense of 
 duty which religion inspires. " As atheism," says 
 Lord Bacon, " is in all respects hateful, so in this, 
 that it depriveth human nature of the means of 
 exalting itself above human frailty; and as it is 
 in particular persons, so it is in nations." Pas- 
 sion will find as many objects of gratification 
 Tinder a despotism as a republic ; seduction is as 
 easy from private as public desires ; pleasure is 
 ss alluring in the palace of opulence as in the 
 forum of Democracy. The transition is in gen- 
 eral slow from patriotic principle or public spirit 
 to private gratification, because they spring from 
 the opposite motives to human conduct ; but it is 
 rapid from rebellion against the restraints of vir- 
 tue to thraldom under the chains of vice, for the 
 former is but the commencement of the latter. 
 '' The character of Democracy and despotism," 
 says Aristotle,* " is the same. Both exercise a 
 despotic authority over the better class of citi- 
 zens ; decrees are in the one what ordinances 
 and arbitrary violence are in the other. In difier- 
 ent ages, the Democrat and court favourite are 
 not uufrequently the same men, and always bear 
 a close analogy to each other; they have the 
 principal power in their respective forms of gov- 
 ernment ; lavourites with the absolute monarch, 
 demagogues with the sovereign multitude." 
 " Charles II.," says Chateaubriand, " threw Re- 
 publican England into the arms of women;" but, 
 in truth, it was not the amorous monarch who 
 effected the change ; it was the easy transition 
 from Democratic license to general comiption 
 which debased the nation at the Restoration. 
 Mr. Hume has observed that religious fanati- 
 cism during the Civil Wars disgraced the spirit 
 of liberty in England ; but, in truth, it was the 
 only safeguard of public virtue during those criti- 
 cal times; and but for the unbending austerity 
 of the Puritans, public freedom would have irre- 
 coverably perished in the flood of licentiousness 
 which overwhelmed the country on the accession 
 of Charles II. 
 
 "Knowledge," says Lord Bacon, "is power;" 
 he has not said it is either wisdom or virtue. It 
 augments the influence of opinion upon man- 
 kind ; but whether it augments it to good or evil 
 purpose, depends upon the character of the in- 
 formation which is communicated, and the pre- 
 cautions against corruption which are simul- 
 taneously taken. As much as it enlarges the 
 foundations of prosperity in a virtuous, does it 
 extend the sources of corruption in a degenerate 
 
 * Arist., lie Pol., iv., c. 4. 
 
 age. Unless the moral and religious improve- 
 ment of the people extend in proportion to their 
 intellectual cultivation, the increase of knowl- 
 edge is but an addition to the lever by which vice 
 dissolves the fabric of society. 
 
 The Revolutionary party have frequently said 
 that it was Napoleon who con- t> , . ^ 
 structed with so much ability the f/ thf cTntS 
 labric of despotism in France ; tion of power in- 
 but, in truth, it was not he that troduced by the 
 did it, nor was his power, great ^^^"'"'•"'n. 
 as it was, ever equal to the task. It was the Con- 
 stituent Assembly who broke the bones of France 
 and left only a disjointed, misshapen mass, form- 
 ing an easy prey to the first despotism which 
 should succeed it. By destroying the parlia- 
 ments, provincial assemblies, and courts of law; 
 by annihilating the old divisions and rights of 
 the provinces ; by extinguishing all corporations 
 and provincial establishments, at the same time 
 that they confiscated the property of the Church, 
 drove the nobles into exile, and soon after seized 
 upon their estates, they took away for the future 
 all elements of resistance even to the power of 
 the metropolis. Everything was immediately 
 centralized in its public offices ; the lead in all 
 public matters taken by its citizens; and the di- 
 rection of every detail, however minute, assumed 
 by its ministers. France, ever since, has fallen 
 into a state of subjection to Paris to which tliere 
 is nothing comparable even in the ainals of Ori- 
 ental servitude. The ruling poweriin the East 
 is frequently shaken, sometimes o\irturned, by 
 tumults originating in the provinceJ; but there 
 has been no example, since the nevX-^gwie was 
 fully established by the suppressioi of the La 
 Vendee rebellion, of the central cithority in 
 France being shaken but by movements origina- 
 ting in the capital. The authority of libespierre, 
 Napoleon, Louis, and Louis Philippa were suc- 
 cessively acknowledged by thirty maions over 
 the country as soon as a faction inParis had 
 obtained the asicendency ; and the olldient de- 
 partments waited for the announcement^ f the tele- 
 graph or the arrival of the mail to kno' ' whether 
 they should salute an emperor, a king a consul 
 or a decemvir.* This total prostrat in of the 
 strength of a great nation to the rulinj power in 
 the metropolis could never have taker Dlace un- 
 der the old government ; and, accorc :igly, no- 
 thing of the kind was experienced unde the mon- 
 archy. It was the great deeds of E mocratic 
 despotism perpetrated by the Constitue 1 Assem- 
 bly which destroyed all the elements of ;sistance 
 in the provinces, and left France a he! ess mul- 
 titude, necessarily subject to the po; ir which 
 had gained possession of the machine • of gov- 
 ernment. Despotic as the old govei ment of 
 France was, it could never have atten ted such 
 an arbitrary system ; even the power ( the Czar 
 Peter or the Sultan Mahmoud would ive been 
 shattered against such an invasion of ( ablished 
 rights and settled interests. A men: "able in- 
 stance of the extreme danger to which le inter- 
 ests of freedom are exposed from the ind pas- 
 sions of Democracy, and of the fata 'ffect of 
 the spring flood which drowns the instuions of 
 a state, when the opposing powers of le people 
 and the government are brought fori time to 
 draw in the same direction. I 
 
 To all human appearance, theref^, the es- 
 tablishment of permanent freedom is jpeless in 
 France ; the bulwarks of European 1 ;rty have 
 
 St Chamans, 237, 380. 
 
1799.] 
 
 HISTORY OF EUROPE. 
 
 583 
 
 disappeared in the land, and over the whole ex- 
 panse is seen only the level surface of Asiatic 
 despotism. This grievous result is the conse- 
 quence and the punishment of the great and 
 crying sins of the Revolution ; of the irreligious 
 spirit in which it was conceived ; the atheistical 
 measures which it introduced ; the noble blood 
 which it shed ; the private right which it over- 
 turned; the boundless property which it confis- 
 cated. But for these offences, a constitutional 
 monarchy, like that which for a century and a 
 half has given glory and happiness to England, 
 might have been established in its great rival; 
 because, but for these oifeuces, the march of 
 the Revolution would have been unstained by 
 crime. In nations, as in individuals, a harvest 
 of prosperity never yet was reaped from seed 
 sown in injustice. But nations have no im- 
 mortality ; and that final retribution, which in 
 private life is often postponed, to outward ap- 
 pearance, at least, to another world, is brought 
 with swift and unerring wings upon the third 
 and fourth generation in the political delinquen- 
 cies of mankind. 
 
 Does, then, the march of freedom neces.sarily 
 jj. . terminate in disaster 1 Is improve- 
 between°the ™6ni inevitably allied to innovation, 
 safe and daa- innovation to revolution 1 And must 
 gerous spirit the philosopher, who beholds the in- 
 of freedom, ^^j^j. struggles of liberty, ever foresee 
 in their termination the blood of Robespierre or 
 the carnage of Napoleon 1 No ! The distinc- 
 tion between the two is as wide as between day 
 aJid night — between virtue and vice. The sim- 
 plest and rudest of mankind may distinguish, 
 with as much certainty as belongs to erring 
 mortals, whether the ultimate tendency of inno- 
 vations is beneficial or ruinous — whether they 
 are destined to bring blessings or curses on 
 their wings. This test is to be found in the 
 character of those who support them, and the 
 moral justice or injustice of their measures. If 
 those who forward the work of reform are the 
 most pure and upright in their private conduct ; 
 if they are the foremost in every moral and reli- 
 gious duty, most unblemished in their inter- 
 course with men, and most undeviating in their* 
 duty to God ; if they are the best fathers, the 
 best husbands, the best landlords, the most char- 
 itable and humane of society who take the lead ; 
 if their proceedings are characterized by moder- 
 ation, and they are scrupulously attentive to jus- 
 tice and humanity in all their actions, then the 
 people may safely follow in their steps, and an- 
 ticipate blessings to themselves and their chil- 
 dren from the measures they promote. But if 
 the reverse of all this is the case ; if the leaders 
 who seek to rouse their passions are worthless 
 or suspicious in private life ; if they are tyran- 
 nical landlords, faithless husbands, negligent fa- 
 thers ; if they are skeptical or inditferent in reli- 
 gion, reckless or improvident in conduct, ruined 
 or tottering in fortune ; if they are selfish in 
 their enjoyments, and callous and indifferent to 
 the poor ; if their liberty is a cloak for licen- 
 
 tiousness, and their patriotism an excuse for am- 
 bition ; if their actions are hasty and inconsid- 
 erate, and their measures calculated to do injus- 
 tice or create sufi'ering to individuals, on the plea 
 of state necessity, then the people may rest as- 
 sured that they are leading them to perdition ; 
 that the fabric of liberty never yet was reared 
 by such hands, or on such a basis ; and that, 
 whatever temporary triumph may attend their 
 steps, the day of reckoning will come, and an 
 awful retribution awaits them or their children. 
 The final result of the irreligious eflbrts o£the 
 French people is singularly illustra- immense ,m. 
 five of the moral government to pulse giveu 
 which human affairs are subject, ^^y changes of 
 and of the vanity of all attempts to [hrs"re'Si''of 
 check that spread of religion which chrfs^Iamty' 
 has been decreed by Almighty pow- over the 
 er. When the Parisian philoso- world, 
 phers beheld the universal diflfusion of the spirit 
 of skepticism which they had produced; when a 
 nation was seen abjuring every species of devo- 
 tion, and a generation rising in the heart of Eu- 
 rope ignorant of the very elements of religious 
 belief, the triumph of infidelity appeared com- 
 plete, and the faithful trembled and mourned in 
 silence at the melancholy prospects which were 
 opening upon the world. Yet in this very spirit 
 were preparing, by an unseen hand, the means 
 of the ultimate triumph of civilized over barbar- 
 ic belief, and of a greater spread of the Chris- 
 tian faith than had taken place since it was em- 
 braced by the tribes who overthrew the Roman 
 Empire. In the deadly strife of European am- 
 bition, the arms of civilization acquired an ir- 
 resistible preponderance ; with its last convul- 
 sions the strength of Russia was immeasurably 
 augmented, and that mighty power, which had 
 been organized by the genius of Peter, and ma- 
 tured by the ambition of Catharine, received its 
 final development from the invasion of Napo- 
 leon. The Crescent, long triumphant over the 
 Cross, has now yielded to its ascendant ; the 
 barrier of the Caucasus and the Balkhan have 
 been burst by its champions ; the ancient war- 
 cry of Constantinople, " Victory to the Cross !" 
 has, after an interval of four centuries, been 
 heard on the iEgean Sea ; and that lasting tri- 
 umph, which all the enthusiasm of the Crusa- 
 ders could not effect, has arisen from the energy 
 infused into what was then an unknown tribe, 
 by the infidel anns of their descendants. In 
 such marvellous and unforeseen consequences, 
 the historian finds ample grounds for consolation 
 at the temporary triumph of wickedness ; from 
 the corruption of decaying he turns to the ener- 
 gy of infant civilization ; while he laments the 
 decline of the principles of prosperity in their 
 present seats, he anticipates their resurrection in. 
 those where they were first cradled ; and traces, 
 through all the vicissitudes of nations, the in- 
 cessant operation of those general laws which 
 provide, even amid the decline.of present great- 
 ness, for the final improvement and elevation of 
 the species. 
 
 END OF \OLt*. 
 
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