In 1787 this French monarchy found itself bankrupt and obliged to call

representatives of the different classes of the realm into consultation

upon the perplexities of defective income and excessive expenditure.

In 1789 the States General, a gathering of the nobles, clergy and

commons, roughly equivalent to the earlier form of the British

Parliament, was called together at Versailles. It had not assembled

since 1610. For all that time France had been an absolute monarchy.

Now the people found a means of expressing their long fermenting

discontent. Disputes immediately broke out between the three estates,

due to the resolve of the Third Estate, the Commons, to control the

Assembly. The Commons got the better of these disputes and the States

General became a National Assembly, clearly resolved to keep the crown

in order, as the British Parliament kept the British crown in order.

The king (Louis XVI) prepared for a struggle and brought up troops from

the provinces. Whereupon Paris and France revolted.

The collapse of the absolute monarchy was very swift. The grim-looking

prison of the Bastille was stormed by the people of Paris, and the

insurrection spread rapidly throughout France. In the east and

north-west provinces many chateaux belonging to the nobility were burnt

by the peasants, their title-deeds carefully destroyed, and the owners

murdered or driven away. In a month the ancient and decayed system of

the aristocratic order had collapsed. Many of the leading princes and

courtiers of the queen’s party fled abroad. A provisional city

government was set up in Paris and in most of the other large cities,

and a new armed force, the National Guard, a force designed primarily

and plainly to resist the forces of the crown, was brought into

existence by these municipal bodies. The National Assembly found

itself called upon to create a new political and social system for a

new age.

It was a task that tried the powers of that gathering to the utmost.

It made a great sweep of the chief injustices of the absolutist regime;

it abolished tax exemptions, serfdom, aristocratic titles and

privileges and sought to establish a constitutional monarchy in Paris.

The king abandoned Versailles and its splendours and kept a diminished

state in the palace of the Tuileries in Paris.

For two years it seemed that the National Assembly might struggle

through to an effective modernized government. Much of its work was

sound and still endures, if much was experimental and had to be undone.

Much was ineffective. There was a clearing up of the penal code;

torture, arbitrary imprisonment and persecutions for heresy were

abolished. The ancient provinces of France, Normandy, Burgundy and the

like gave place to eighty departments. Promotion to the highest ranks

in the army was laid open to men of every class. An excellent and

simple system of law courts was set up, but its value was much vitiated

by having the judges appointed by popular election for short periods of

time. This made the crowd a sort of final court of appeal, and the

judges, like the members of the Assembly, were forced to play to the

gallery. And the whole vast property of the church was seized and

administered by the state; religious establishments not engaged in

education or works of charity were broken up, and the salaries of the

clergy made a charge upon the nation. This in itself was not a bad

thing for the lower clergy in France, who were often scandalously

underpaid in comparison with the richer dignitaries. But in addition

the choice of priests and bishops was made elective, which struck at

the very root idea of the Roman Church, which centred everything upon

the Pope, and in which all authority is from above downward.

Practically the National Assembly wanted at one blow to make the church

in France Protestant, in organization if not in doctrine. Everywhere

there were disputes and conflicts between the state priests created by

the National Assembly and the recalcitrant (non-juring) priests who

were loyal to Rome.

In 1791 the experiment of Constitutional monarchy in France was brought

to an abrupt end by the action of the king and queen, working in

concert with their aristocratic and monarchist friends abroad. Foreign

armies gathered on the Eastern frontier and one night in June the king

and queen and their children slipped away from the Tuileries and fled

to join the foreigners and the aristocratic exiles. They were caught

at Varennes and brought back to Paris, and an France flamed up into a

passion of patriotic republicanism. A Republic was proclaimed, open

war with Austria and Prussia ensued, and the king was tried and

executed (January, 1793) on the model already set by England, for

treason to his people.

And now followed a strange phase in the history of the French people.

There arose a great flame of enthusiasm for France and the Republic.

There was to be an end to compromise at home and abroad; at home

royalists and every form of disloyalty were to be stamped out; abroad

France was to be the protector and helper of all revolutionaries. All

Europe, all the world, was to become Republican. The youth of France

poured into the Republican armies; a new and wonderful song spread

through the land, a song that still warms the blood like wine, the

Marseillaise. Before that chant and the leaping columns of French

bayonets and their enthusiastically served guns the foreign armies

rolled back; before the end of 1792 the French armies had gone far

beyond the utmost achievements of Louis XIV; everywhere they stood on

foreign soil. They were in Brussels, they had overrun Savoy, they had

raided to Mayence; they had seized the Scheldt from Holland. Then the

French Government did an unwise thing. It had been exasperated by the

expulsion of its representative from England upon the execution of

Louis, and it declared war against England. It was an unwise thing to

do, because the revolution which had given France a new enthusiastic

infantry and a brilliant artillery released from its aristocratic

officers and many cramping conditions had destroyed the discipline of

the navy, and the English were supreme upon the sea. And this

provocation united all England against France, whereas there had been

at first a very considerable liberal movement in Great Britain in

sympathy with the revolution.

THE TRIAL OF LOUIS XVI

THE TRIAL OF LOUIS XVI

_(From a print in the British Museum)_

Of the fight that France made in the next few years against a European

coalition we cannot tell in any detail. She drove the Austrians for

ever out of Belgium, and made Holland a republic. The Dutch fleet,

frozen in the Texel, surrendered to a handful of cavalry without firing

its guns. For some time the French thrust towards Italy was hung up,

and it was only in 1796 that a new general, Napoleon Bonaparte, led the

ragged and hungry republican armies in triumph across Piedmont to

Mantua and Verona. Says C. F. Atkinson, [1] “What astonished the

Allies most of all was the number and the velocity of the Republicans.

These improvised armies had in fact nothing to delay them. Tents were

unprocurable for want of money, untransportable for want of the

enormous number of wagons that would have been required, and also

unnecessary, for the discomfort that would have caused wholesale

desertion in professional armies was cheerfully borne by the men of

1793- 94. Supplies for armies of then unheard-of size could not be

carried in convoys, and the French soon became familiar with ‘living on

the country.’ Thus 1793 saw the birth of the modern system of

war—rapidity of movement, full development of national strength,

bivouacs, requisitions and force as against cautious manœuvring, small

professional armies, tents and full rations, and chicane. The first

represented the decision-compelling spirit, the second the spirit of

risking little to gain a little ... .”

And while these ragged hosts of enthusiasts were chanting the

Marseillaise and fighting for _la France_, manifestly never quite clear

in their minds whether they were looting or liberating the countries

into which they poured, the republican enthusiasm in Paris was spending

itself in a far less glorious fashion. The revolution was now under

the sway of a fanatical leader, Robespierre. This man is difficult to

judge; he was a man of poor physique, naturally timid, and a prig. But

he had that most necessary gift for power, faith. He set himself to

save the Republic as he conceived it, and he imagined it could be saved

by no other man than he. So that to keep in power was to save the

Republic. The living spirit of the Republic, it seemed, had sprung

from a slaughter of royalists and the execution of the king. There

were insurrections; one in the west, in the district of La Vendée,

where the people rose against the conscription and against the

dispossession of the orthodox clergy, and were led by noblemen and

priests; one in the south, where Lyons and Marseilles had risen and the

royalists of Toulon had admitted an English and Spanish garrison. To

which there seemed no more effectual reply than to go on killing

royalists.

The Revolutionary Tribunal went to work, and a steady slaughtering

began. The invention of the guillotine was opportune to this mood.

The queen was guillotined, most of Robespierre’s antagonists were

guillotined, atheists who argued that there was no Supreme Being were

guillotined; day by day, week by week, this infernal new machine

chopped off heads and more heads and more. The reign of Robespierre

lived, it seemed, on blood; and needed more and more, as an opium-taker

needs more and more opium.

THE EXECUTION OF MARIE ANTOINETTE, QUEEN OF FRANCE, OCTOBER 16, 1793

THE EXECUTION OF MARIE ANTOINETTE, QUEEN OF FRANCE, OCTOBER 16, 1793

_(From a print in the British Museum)_

Finally in the summer of 1794 Robespierre himself was overthrown and

guillotined. He was succeeded by a Directory of five men which carried

on the war of defence abroad and held France together at home for five

years. Their reign formed a curious interlude in this history of

violent changes. They took things as they found them. The

propagandist zeal of the revolution carried the French armies into

Holland, Belgium, Switzerland, south Germany and north Italy.

Everywhere kings were expelled and republics set up. But such

propagandist zeal as animated the Directorate did not prevent the

looting of the treasures of the liberated peoples to relieve the

financial embarrassment of the French Government. Their wars became

less and less the holy wars of freedom, and more and more like the

aggressive wars of the ancient regime. The last feature of Grand

Monarchy that France was disposed to discard was her tradition of

foreign policy. One discovers it still as vigorous under the

Directorate as if there had been no revolution.

Unhappily for France and the world a man arose who embodied in its

intensest form this national egotism of the French. He gave that

country ten years of glory and the humiliation of a final defeat. This

was that same Napoleon Bonaparte who had led the armies of the

Directory to victory in Italy.

Throughout the five years of the Directorate he had been scheming and

working for self-advancement. Gradually he clambered to supreme power.

He was a man of severely limited understanding but of ruthless

directness and great energy. He had begun life as an extremist of the

school of Robespierre; he owed his first promotion to that side; but he

had no real grasp of the new forces that were working in Europe. His

utmost political imagination carried him to a belated and tawdry

attempt to restore the Western Empire. He tried to destroy the remains

of the old Holy Roman Empire, intending to replace it by a new one

centring upon Paris. The Emperor in Vienna ceased to be the Holy Roman

Emperor and became simply Emperor of Austria. Napoleon divorced his

French wife in order to marry an Austrian princess.

He became practically monarch of France as First Consul in 1799, and he

made himself Emperor of France in 1804 in direct imitation of

Charlemagne. He was crowned by the Pope in Paris, taking the crown

from the Pope and putting it upon his own head himself as Charlemagne

had directed. His son was crowned King of Rome.

For some years Napoleon’s reign was a career of victory. He conquered

most of Italy and Spain, defeated Prussia and Austria, and dominated

all Europe west of Russia. But he never won the command of the sea

from the British and his fleets sustained a conclusive defeat inflicted

by the British Admiral Nelson at Trafalgar (1805). Spain rose against

him in 1808 and a British army under Wellington thrust the French

armies slowly northward out of the peninsula. In 1811 Napoleon came

into conflict with the Tsar Alexander I, and in 1812 he invaded Russia

with a great conglomerate army of 600,000 men, that was defeated and

largely destroyed by the Russians and the Russian winter. Germany rose

against him, Sweden turned against him. The French armies were beaten

back and at Fontainebleau Napoleon abdicated (1814). He was exiled to

Elba, returned to France for one last effort in 1815 and was defeated

by the allied British, Belgians and Prussians at Waterloo. He died a

British prisoner at St. Helena in 1821.

The forces released by the French revolution were wasted and finished.

A great Congress of the victorious allies met at Vienna to restore as

far as possible the state of affairs that the great storm had rent to

pieces. For nearly forty years a sort of peace, a peace of exhausted

effort, was maintained in Europe.

[1] In his article, “French Revolutionary Wars,” in the Encyclopædia

Britannica.

LVI

THE UNEASY PEACE IN EUROPE THAT FOLLOWED THE FALL OF NAPOLEON

Two main causes prevented that period from being a complete social and

international peace, and prepared the way for the cycle of wars between

1854 and 1871. The first of these was the tendency of the royal courts

concerned, towards the restoration of unfair privilege and interference

with freedom of thought and writing and teaching. The second was the

impossible system of boundaries drawn by the diplomatists of Vienna.

The inherent disposition of monarchy to march back towards past

conditions was first and most particularly manifest in Spain. Here

even the Inquisition was restored. Across the Atlantic the Spanish

colonies had followed the example of the United States and revolted

against the European Great Power System, when Napoleon set his brother

Joseph on the Spanish throne in 1810. The George Washington of South

America was General Bolivar. Spain was unable to suppress this revolt,

it dragged on much as the United States War of Independence had dragged

on, and at last the suggestion was made by Austria, in accordance with

the spirit of the Holy Alliance, that the European monarch should

assist Spain in this struggle. This was opposed by Britain in Europe,

but it was the prompt action of President Monroe of the United States

in 1823 which conclusively warned off this projected monarchist

restoration. He announced that the United States would regard any

extension of the European system in the Western Hemisphere as a hostile

act. Thus arose the Monroe Doctrine, the doctrine that there must be

no extension of extra- American government in America, which has kept

the Great Power system out of America for nearly a hundred years and

permitted the new states of Spanish America to work out their destinies

along their own lines.

But if Spanish monarchism lost its colonies, it could at least, under

the protection of the Concert of Europe, do what it chose in Europe. A

popular insurrection in Spain was crushed by a French army in 1823,

with a mandate from a European congress, and simultaneously Austria

suppressed a revolution in Naples.

In 1824 Louis XVIII died, and was succeeded by Charles X. Charles set

himself to destroy the liberty of the press and universities, and to

restore absolute government; the sum of a billion francs was voted to

compensate the nobles for the chateau burnings and sequestrations of

1789. In 1830 Paris rose against this embodiment of the ancient

regime, and replaced him by Louis Philippe, the son of that Philip,

Duke of Orleans, who was executed during the Terror. The other

continental monarchies, in face of the open approval of the revolution

by Great Britain and a strong liberal ferment in Germany and Austria,

did not interfere in this affair. After all, France was still a

monarchy. This man Louis Philippe (1830-48) remained the

constitutional King of France for eighteen years.

Such were the uneasy swayings of the peace of the Congress of Vienna,

which were provoked by the reactionary proceedings of the monarchists.

The stresses that arose from the unscientific boundaries planned by the

diplomatists at Vienna gathered force more deliberately, but they were

even more dangerous to the peace of mankind. It is extraordinarily

inconvenient to administer together the affairs of peoples speaking

different languages and so reading different literatures and having

different general ideas, especially if those differences are

exacerbated by religious disputes. Only some strong mutual interest,

such as the common defensive needs of the Swiss mountaineers, can

justify a close linking of peoples of dissimilar languages and faiths;

and even in Switzerland there is the utmost local autonomy. When, as in

Macedonia, populations are mixed in a patchwork of villages and

districts, the cantonal system is imperatively needed. But if the

reader will look at the map of Europe as the Congress of Vienna drew

it, he will see that this gathering seems almost as if it had planned

the maximum of local exasperation.

It destroyed the Dutch Republic, quite needlessly, it lumped together

the Protestant Dutch with the French-speaking Catholics of the old

Spanish (Austrian) Netherlands, and set up a kingdom of the

Netherlands. It handed over not merely the old republic of Venice, but

all of North Italy as far as Milan to the German-speaking Austrians.

French-speaking Savoy it combined with pieces of Italy to restore the

kingdom of Sardinia. Austria and Hungary, already a sufficiently

explosive mixture of discordant nationalities, Germans, Hungarians,

Czecho-Slovaks, Jugo-Slavs, Roumanians, and now Italians, was made

still more impossible by confirming Austria’s Polish acquisitions of

1772 and 1795. The Catholic and republican-spirited Polish people were

chiefly given over to the less civilized rule of the Greek-orthodox

Tsar, but important districts went to Protestant Prussia. The Tsar was

also confirmed in his acquisition of the entirely alien Finns. The

very dissimilar Norwegian and Swedish peoples were bound together under

one king. Germany, the reader will see, was left in a particularly

dangerous state of muddle. Prussia and Austria were both partly in and

partly out of a German confederation, which included a multitude of

minor states. The King of Denmark came into the German confederation

by virtue of certain German-speaking possessions in Holstein.

Luxembourg was included in the German confederation, though its ruler

was also King of the Netherlands, and though many of its peoples talked

French.

Here was a complete disregard of the fact that the people who talk

German and base their ideas on German literature, the people who talk

Italian and base their ideas on Italian literature, and the people who

talk Polish and base their ideas on Polish literature, will all be far

better off and most helpful and least obnoxious to the rest of mankind

if they conduct their own affairs in their own idiom within the

ring-fence of their own speech. Is it any wonder that one of the most

popular songs in Germany during this period declared that wherever the

German tongue was spoken, there was the German Fatherland!

PORTRAIT OF NAPOLEON (CORONATION)

PORTRAIT OF NAPOLEON (CORONATION)

_(From a print in the British Museum)_

In 1830 French-speaking Belgium, stirred up by the current revolution

in France, revolted against its Dutch association in the kingdom of the

Netherlands. The powers, terrified at the possibilities of a republic

or of annexation to France, hurried in to pacify this situation, and

gave the Belgians a monarch, Leopold I of Saxe-Coburg Gotha. There

were also ineffectual revolts in Italy and Germany in 1830, and a much

more serious one in Russian Poland. A republican government held out

in Warsaw for a year against Nicholas I (who succeeded Alexander in

1825), and was then stamped out of existence with great violence and

cruelty. The Polish language was banned, and the Greek Orthodox church

was substituted for the Roman Catholic as the state religion ....

Map: Europe after the Congress of Vienna

In 1821 there was an insurrection of the Greeks against the Turks. For

six years they fought a desperate war, while the governments of Europe

looked on. Liberal opinion protested against this inactivity;

volunteers from every European country joined the insurgents, and at

last Britain, France and Russia took joint action. The Turkish fleet

was destroyed by the French and English at the battle of Navarino

(1827), and the Tsar invaded Turkey. By the treaty of Adrianople

(1829) Greece was declared free, but she was not permitted to resume

her ancient republican traditions. A German king was found for Greece,

one Prince Otto of Bavaria, and Christian governors were set up in the

Danubian provinces (which are now Roumania) and Serbia (a part of the

Jugo-Slav region). Much blood had still to run however before the Turk

was altogether expelled from these lands.

LVII

THE DEVELOPMENT OF MATERIAL KNOWLEDGE

Throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the opening

years of the nineteenth century, while these conflicts of the powers

and princes were going on in Europe, and the patchwork of the treaty of

Westphalia (1648) was changing kaleidoscopically into the patchwork of

the treaty of Vienna (1815), and while the sailing ship was spreading

European influence throughout the world, a steady growth of knowledge

and a general clearing up of men’s ideas about the world in which they

lived was in progress in the European and Europeanized world.

It went on disconnected from political life, and producing throughout

the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries no striking immediate results

in political life. Nor was it affecting popular thought very

profoundly during this period. These reactions were to come later, and

only in their full force in the latter half of the nineteenth century.

It was a process that went on chiefly in a small world of prosperous

and independent-spirited people. Without what the English call the

“private gentleman,” the scientific process could not have begun in

Greece, and could not have been renewed in Europe. The universities

played a part but not a leading part in the philosophical and

scientific thought of this period. Endowed learning is apt to be timid

and conservative learning, lacking in initiative and resistent to

innovation, unless it has the spur of contact with independent minds.

We have already noted the formation of the Royal Society in 1662 and

its work in realizing the dream of Bacon’s _New Atlantis_. Throughout

the eighteenth century there was much clearing up of general ideas

about matter and motion, much mathematical advance, a systematic

development of the use of optical glass in microscope and telescope, a

renewed energy in classificatory natural history, a great revival of

anatomical science. The science of geology—foreshadowed by Aristotle

and anticipated by Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519)—began its great task

of interpreting the Record of the Rocks.

EARLY ROLLING STOCK ON THE LIVERPOOL AND MANCHESTER RAILWAY IN THE

FIRST DAYS OF THE RAILWAY

EARLY ROLLING STOCK ON THE LIVERPOOL AND MANCHESTER RAILWAY IN THE

FIRST DAYS OF THE RAILWAY

The progress of physical science reacted upon metallurgy. Improved

metallurgy, affording the possibility of a larger and bolder handling

of masses of metal and other materials, reacted upon practical

inventions. Machinery on a new scale and in a new abundance appeared

to revolutionize industry.

In 1804 Trevithick adapted the Watt engine to transport and made the

first locomotive. In 1825 the first railway, between Stockton and

Darlington, was opened, and Stephenson’s “Rocket,” with a thirteen-ton

train, got up to a speed of forty-four miles per hour. From 1830

onward railways multiplied. By the middle of the century a network of

railways had spread all over Europe.

A Short History of the World · 第 21 / 29 段