business to undeceive the emperor, and to bring him back to the scheme
of intervention. The Spanish Bourbons were with them, and had recalled
their ambassador, and fitted out a fleet in the Mediterranean.
Gustavus of Sweden was eager to invade France with a Swedish army to
be conveyed in Russian ships, and paid for in Mexican piastres, and
with Bouille by his side. Catherine II. gave every encouragement to
the German Powers to embroil themselves with France, and to leave her
to deal uncontrolled with Poland and Turkey. The first to emigrate had
been the Comte d'Artois and his friends, who had conspired against
Necker and the new Constitution. They fled, because their lives were
in danger. Others followed, after the rising of the peasants and the
spoliation of August. As things grew more acute, and the settlement of
feudal claims was carried out with unsparing hostility, the movement
spread to the inferior _noblesse_. After the breach with the clergy
and the secularisation of Church property, the prelates went into
exile, and were followed by their friends. In the winter of 1790-1791
they began to organise themselves on the Rhine, and to negotiate with
some of the smaller Powers, especially Sardinia, for an invasion. The
later arrivals were not welcomed, for they were men who had accepted
constitutional government. The purpose of the true _emigres_ was the
restoration of the old order, of the ancient principles and
institutions, not without reform, but without subversion. That was the
bond between them, and the basis on which they sought the aid of
absolute princes. They denied that the king himself, writhing in the
grip of democracy, had the right to alter the fundamental laws. Some
of the best and ablest and most honourable men had joined their ranks,
and they were instructed and inflamed by the greatest writer in the
world, who had been the best of Liberals and the purest of
revolutionary statesmen, Edmund Burke. It was not as a reactionist,
but as a Whig who had drunk success to Washington, who had dressed in
blue and buff, who had rejoiced over the British surrender at
Saratoga, who had drawn up the address to the Colonists, which is the
best State paper in the language, that he told them that it was lawful
to invade their own country, and to shed the blood of their
countrymen.
The _emigres_ of every grade of opinion were united in dislike of the
queen and in depreciation of the king, and they wished to supersede
him by declaring his brother Regent. They hoped to save them both; but
they thought more of principles than of persons, and were not to be
diverted from their projects by consideration of what might happen at
Paris. When the emperor spoke of the danger his sister and her husband
were running, Castelnau replied, "What does it matter, provided the
royal authority is preserved in the person of d'Artois?" They not only
refused obedience to Lewis, but they assiduously compromised him, and
proclaimed that he meant the contrary of what he said, making a
reconciliation between him and his people impossible. Even his
brothers defied him when in this extremity, he entreated them to
return. It was the _emigre_ policy to magnify the significance of what
was done at Pilnitz; and as they have convinced posterity that it was
the announcement of an intended attack, it was easy to convince their
contemporaries at home. The language of menace was there, and France
believed itself in danger. How little the Princes concerned meant to
give effect to it remained a secret.
The French democracy might have found its advantage in the
disappearance of so many nobles; but as they were working, with
apparent effect, to embroil the country with its neighbours, attempts
were made to compel their return, first by a threefold taxation, then
by confiscation, and at last, November 9, by threatening with death
those who did not return. The nonjuring clergy were associated with
the _emigres_ in the public mind as enemies and conspirators who were
the more dangerous because they remained at home. The First Assembly
had provoked the hostility on the frontier; the Second provoked
hostilities at home. The First had left nonjuring priests with a
pension, and the use of parish churches where successors had not been
appointed. The Legislative Assembly decreed, November 29, that in all
cases where it seemed good to the authorities, they might be deprived
of their pensions and sent away. The great insurrection of the West
was caused by this policy. It was religious rather than political, and
was appeased by the return of the priests.
The head of the war party in the Assembly was Brissot, who was reputed
to know foreign countries, and who promised certain success, as no
really formidable Power was ready to take the field. Meantime he
endeavoured to isolate Austria, and Segur was sent to Berlin,
Talleyrand to London, to surround France with her natural allies.
Brissot's text was the weakness and division of other countries; the
first man who divined the prodigious resources and invincible energy
of France was the declamatory Provencal Isnard. He spoke on November
29, and this was his prophetic argument: the French people exhibited
the highest qualities in war when they were treated as slaves by
despotic masters; there was no fear that they had degenerated in
becoming free men; only let them fight for principle, not for State
policy, and the force that was in them would transform the world.
Herault de Sechelles divulged the political motive of the war party.
He said a foreign conflict would be desirable for internal reasons. It
would lead to measures of precaution stronger than peace time would
admit, and changes otherwise impossible would then be justified by the
plea of public safety. It is the first shadow cast by the coming reign
of terror. But neither Girondin violence nor _emigre_ intrigue was the
cause that plunged France into the war that was to be the most
dreadful of all wars. The true cause was the determination of Marie
Antoinette not to submit to the new Constitution. At first she wished
that France should be intimidated by a congress of the united Powers.
She warned her friends abroad not to be taken in by the mockery of her
understanding with the Feuillant statesmen; and when Leopold treated
the accepted Constitution seriously, as a release from his
engagements, she accused him of betraying her. On September 8, just
before accepting, Lewis, in confidence, wrote that he meant to
tolerate no authority in France besides his own, and that he desired
to recover it by foreign aid.
The idea of an armed Congress persisted until the end of November. But
during the week from the 3rd to the 10th of December the king and
queen wrote to the Powers, desiring them not to regard their official
acts, beseeching them to resist the demands they made in public and to
make war, and assuring them that France would be easily subdued and
cowed. They hoped, by this treason, to recover their undivided power.
All these letters were inspired, were almost dictated, by Fersen.
As Leopold began to see more clearly what it was his sister meant, he
modified his pacific policy. On the 25th of October he speaks of
increasing the royal authority by a counter-revolution in France. On
the 17th of November he invites Prussia to help him with 20,000 men.
On the 10th of December he denounces the annexation by France of the
German domains in Alsace. In conformity with this gradual change,
Kaunitz became more rigid, and he made known that any assault on the
Elector of Treves, for the protection he gave to the warlike
_emigres_, would be resisted by the imperial forces. Each step was as
short as possible. The transition from peace to war, from pointless
remonstrance to vigorous defiance, was slow and gradual. It began late
in October, when the real meaning of the acceptance of the
Constitution became known, but down to the month of January the change
was not decisive, and the tone was still ambiguous. On the 3rd of
January a letter from the queen at length carried the emperor over. On
the way this appeal had converted Mercy, and Mercy, on January 7,
wrote a letter which compelled Kaunitz to give way. Kaunitz had grown
grey in the idea of the French alliance and of rivalry with Prussia.
He laughed at Mr. Burke and the theory of contagion. He desired to
perpetuate a state of things which paralyzed France, by the rivalry
between the king and the democracy. To restore the king's power at
home was to increase it abroad. Kaunitz was willing that it should be
kept in check by the legislature; but a moment came when he perceived
that the progress of the opposition, of the Jacobins as men
indiscriminately called them, more properly of the Girondins, had
transferred the centre of gravity. What had been cast down in the
Monarch rose again in the Second Assembly, and the power of the
nation, the nation united with its representatives, began to appear.
Kaunitz, though he had no eye for such things, took alarm at last, and
resolved that the way to depress France was to assist the king of
France. On January 5, after the queen's letter of December 16 had been
received, he declared that Austria would support the elector of
Treves, and would repel force by force, if he was attacked for the
harbouring of _emigres_. At the same moment Leopold resolved on an
offensive alliance with Prussia. He explained his change of policy by
the letters which showed him the true mind of the queen. On January 16
Kaunitz still believed that the other Powers would refuse to
co-operate. But Prussia was willing to accept the new alliance, if
Austria abandoned the new Polish Constitution of May 3. Leopold paid
the stipulated price. On February 7 he gave up the Poles, that he
might be strong against France. Already, January 25, Kaunitz had
taken the deciding step, passing over from the defensive to attack. He
speaks no more of the king's liberty of action. He demands restitution
of the papal territory at Avignon, annexed in consequence of the
Pope's action against the ecclesiastical laws. He requires that the
German princes shall have their Alsatian domains given back to them,
and that there shall be no trespass on the imperial dominions. And in
general terms he requires the restoration of monarchy. Again he wrote,
in the same warlike and defiant spirit, on February 17, when the
Prussian signature had been received, and when he expected English aid
for the preservation of Belgium. Meantime Simolin, the Russian
minister who had been helpful in procuring the fatal passport, arrived
at Vienna with a last appeal from the queen. At that time she did not
feel that their lives were in jeopardy, but their power. To the
faithful Fersen she wrote that she hoped the enemy would strike home,
so that the French, in their terror, might pray the king to intercede.
Kaunitz, having despatched his ultimatum on the international grounds
of quarrel, declined to interfere in internal affairs. But Simolin saw
Leopold on the 25th, and then the emperor admitted what his chancellor
denied, that the cause was the common cause of all crowned heads. With
those significant words he quits the stage. Five days later he was
dead.
Each step forward taken by Austria aggravated the warlike feeling in
the French legislature. But Delessart, through whom the government
communicated with foreign powers, mitigated everything, and avoided
provocation. Even the note of the 17th, which was delivered at Paris
on the 27th, produced no immediate commotion. But Narbonne thought the
time had come to carry into effect his policy of war, for the majority
was now with him. He threatened to resign unless Bertrand retired, who
was the king's nominee among the six ministers; and he only withdrew
his threat at the instance of Lafayette and the other generals who
were to be in command. Lewis, indignant at this intrigue, dismissed
not Bertrand, but Narbonne. The Girondins, in reply, impeached
Delessart, who was sent to prison, March 10, and perished there in
September. The Feuillant minister resigned. Robespierre, who divined
the calculations of the Court, and feared that war might strengthen
the arm that bore the banner, resisted the warlike temper, and carried
the Jacobins with him. On this issue Girondins and Jacobins separated
into distinct parties. The Girondins inclined to an inevitable
Republic, because they distrusted the king; but they accepted the
Constitution, and did not reject a king at low pressure, such as had
been invented by the Whigs. They were persuaded that, in case of war,
Lewis would intrigue with the enemy, would be detected, and would be
at their mercy. "It is well that we should be betrayed," said Brissot,
"because then we shall destroy the traitors." And Vergniaud, whose
dignity and elevation of language have made him a classic, pointed to
the Tuileries and said, "Terror has too often issued from that palace
in the name of a despot. Let it enter, to-day, in the name of the
law." They suspected, and suspected truly, that the menacing note from
Vienna was inspired at Paris. They formed a new ministry, with
Dumouriez at the Foreign Office. Dumouriez gave Austria a fixed term
to renounce its policy of coercing France by a concert of Powers; and
as Kaunitz stood his ground, and upheld his former statements of
policy, on April 20 Lewis declared war against his wife's nephew,
Francis, king of Hungary. Marie Antoinette triumphed, through her
influence on her own family. Formally it was not a war for her
deliverance, but a war declared by France, which might be turned to
her advantage. To be of use to her, it must be unsuccessful; and in
order to ensure defeat, she betrayed to the Court of Vienna the plan
of operations adopted in Council the day before.
XIV
DUMOURIEZ
As the war was more often a cause of political events than a
consequence, it will be convenient to follow up the progress of
military affairs to the fall of Dumouriez, postponing the catastrophe
of monarchy to next week.
On the 17th of February 1792 Pitt informed the House of Commons that
the situation of Europe had never afforded such assurance of continued
peace. He did not yet recognise the peril that lay in the new French
Constitution. Under that Constitution, no government could be deemed
legitimate unless it aimed at liberty, and derived its powers from the
national will. All else is usurpation; and against usurped authority,
insurrection is a duty. The Rights of Man were meant for general
application, and were no more specifically French than the
multiplication table. They were not founded on national character and
history, but on Reason, which is the same for all men. The Revolution
was essentially universal and aggressive; and although these
consequences of its original principle were assiduously repressed by
the First Assembly, they were proclaimed by the Second, and roused the
threatened Powers to intervene. Apart from this inflaming cause the
motives of the international conflict were indecisive. The emperor
urged the affair of Avignon, the injury to German potentates who had
possessions in Alsace, the complicity of France in the Belgian
troubles, and the need of European concert while the French denied the
foundations of European polity.
Dumouriez offered to withdraw the French troops from the frontier, if
Austria would send no more reinforcements, but at that moment the
queen sent word of an intended attack on Liege. The offer seemed
perfidious, and envenomed the quarrel. Marie Antoinette despatched
Goguelat, the man who was not at his post on the flight to Varennes,
to implore intervention. She also gave Mercy her notions as to an
Austrian manifesto; and in this letter, dated April 30, there is no
sign of alarm, and no suggestion yet that France might be cowed by the
use of exorbitant menaces. Dumouriez, who desired war with Austria,
endeavoured to detach Prussia from the alliance. He invited the king
to arbitrate in the Alsatian dispute, and promised deference to his
award. He proposed that the prerogative should be enlarged, the
princes indemnified, the _emigres_ permitted to return. Frederic
William was unmoved by these advances. He relied on the annexation of
Alsace and Lorraine to compensate both allies, and he expected to
succeed, because his army was the most illustrious of all armies in
Europe. He wished to restore the _emigres_, who would support him
against Austria, and the _emigres_ looked to him to set up the order
of society that had fallen. "Better to lose a province," they said,
"than to live under a constitution."
The allied army was commanded by the Duke of Brunswick, the most
admired and popular prince of his time. His own celebrity disabled
him. Many years ago Marshal Macmahon said to an officer, since in high
command at Berlin, that an army is best when it is composed of
soldiers who have never smelt gunpowder, of experienced
non-commissioned officers, and of generals with their reputation to
make. Brunswick had made his reputation under the great king, and he
feared to compromise it. Want of enterprise made him unfit for his
position, although nobody doubted his capacity. In France, they
thought of him for the command of their armies, and even for a still
higher post. In spite of the disasters I am about to describe, the
Prussians believed in him, and he was again their leader when they met
Napoleon. The army which he led across the Rhine fell short of the
stipulated number by 35,000 men. Francis, the new emperor, did not
fulfil his engagements, and entered on the expedition with divided
counsels.
Kaunitz, who was eighty-two years of age, and knew the affairs of
Europe better than any other man, condemned the policy of his new
master. He represented that they did not know what they were going to
fight for; that Lewis had never explained what changes in the
Constitution would satisfy him; that nothing could be expected from
disaffection, and nothing could be done for a system which was
extinct. On August 2 he resigned office, and made way for men who
speculated on the dismemberment of France, and expected to see a
shrunken monarchy in the north and a confederate republic in the
south.
The entire force brought together for the invasion amounted to about
80,000 men, of which half were Prussians. When they were assembled on
the Rhine, it became necessary to explain to the French people why
they were coming, and what they meant to do. Headquarters were at
Frankfort, when a confidential emissary from Lewis XVI., Mallet du
Pan, appeared on the scene. Mallet du Pan was neither a brilliant
writer like Burke and De Maistre and Gentz, nor an original and
constructive thinker like Sieyes; but he was the most sagacious of all
the politicians who watched the course of the Revolution. As a
Genevese republican he approached the study of French affairs with no
prejudice towards monarchy, aristocracy, or Catholicism. A Liberal at
first, like Mounier and Malouet, he became as hostile as they; and his
testimony, which had been enlightened and wise, became morose and
monotonous when his cause was lost, until the Austrian statesmen with
whom he corresponded grew tired of his narrowing ideas. He settled in
England, and there he died. As he was not a man likely to propose a
foolish thing, he was heard with attention. He proposed that the
allies should declare that they were warring on Jacobinism, not on
liberty, and would make no terms until the king regained his rightful
power. If he was injured, they would inflict a terrible vengeance.
Whilst Mallet's text was being manipulated by European diplomacy at
Frankfort, Marie Antoinette, acting through Fersen, disturbed their
counsels. The queen understood how to control her pen, and to repress
the language of emotion. But after June 20 she could not doubt that
another and a more violent outrage was preparing, and that the
republicans aimed at the death of the king. The terms in which she
uttered her belief outweighed the advice of the sober Genevese. "Save
us," she wrote, "if it is yet time. But there is not a moment to
lose." And she required a declaration of intention so terrific that it
would crush the audacity of Paris. Montmorin and Mercy were convinced
that she was right. Malouet alone among royalist politicians expected
that the measure she proposed would do more harm than good. Fersen, to
whom her supplications were addressed, employed an _emigre_ named
Limon to draw up a manifesto equal to the occasion, and Limon, bearing
credentials from Mercy, submitted his composition to the allied
sovereigns. He announced that the Republicans would be exterminated,
and Paris destroyed. Already Burke had written: "If ever a foreign
prince enters into France, he must enter it as into a country of
assassins. The mode of civilised war will not be practised; nor are
the French, who act on the present system, entitled to expect it."
Mallet du Pan himself had declared that there ought to be no
pernicious mercy, and that humanity would be a crime. In reality, the
difference between his tone and the fanatic who superseded him was not
a wide one.
The manifesto, which proceeded from the queen, which had the sanction
of Fersen, of Mercy, of Bouille, was accepted at once by the emperor.
The Prussians introduced some alterations, and Brunswick signed it on
July 25. His mind misgave him at the time, and he regretted afterwards
that he had not died before he set his hand to it. Mercy, when it was
too late, wished to put another declaration in its place. The Prussian
ministers would not suffer the text to be published at Berlin. They
allowed the author to fall into poverty and obscurity. He had acted in
the spirit of the _emigres_.
On July 27 the Princes issued a declaration of their own, to the
effect that not Paris only should suffer the extremity of martial law,
but every town to which the king might be taken if he was removed from
the capital. Breteuil, although he complained that the invaders
exhibited an intolerable clemency, disapproved the second
proclamation. But Limon demanded the destruction of Varennes, and the
_emigres_ expected that severities should be inflicted on the
population as they went along. The idea of employing menaces so awful
as to inspire terror at a distance of 300 miles was fatal to those who
suggested it; but the danger was immediate, and the consequences of
inaction were certain, for the destined assailants of the Tuileries
were on the march from Toulon and Brest. It was not so certain that
the king would be unable to defend himself. The manifesto was a
desperate resource in a losing cause, and it is not clear that wiser
and more moderate words would have done better. The text was not
published at Paris until August 3. The allies were too far away for
their threats to be treated seriously, and they are not answerable for
consequences which were already prepared and expected. But their
manifesto strengthened the hands of Danton, assured the triumph of the
violent sections, and suggested the use to which terror may be put in
revolutions. It contributed to the fall of the monarchy, and still
more to the slaughter of the royalists three weeks later. The weapon
forged by men unable to employ it was adopted by their enemies, and
served the cause it was intended to destroy.
The Declaration united the French people against its authors. The
Republicans whom it threatened and denounced became the appointed
leaders of the national defence, and the cause of the Republic became
identified with the safety of the nation. In order to withstand the
invasion, and to preserve Paris from the fate of Jerusalem, the army
gave itself to the dominant faction. The royalist element vanished
from its ranks. Lafayette made one last attempt to uphold the
Constitution, but his men repulsed him. He went over to imperial
territory, and was detained in prison as the guilty author of the
Revolution. Dumouriez succeeded to his command, and adhered to the new
government. Out of 9000 officers in the king's service, 6000 had
resigned, and, for the most part, had emigrated. Their places were
filled by new men. In 1791, 100,000 volunteers had been enrolled, and
enjoyed the privilege of electing their own officers. This became the
popular force, and recruits preferred it to the line, where discipline
was sterner and elected commanders were unknown. The men who now rose
from the ranks proved better professional soldiers than the fine
gentlemen whom they replaced. Talent could not fail to make its way.
Those volunteer officers of 1791 and 1792 included most of the men
whom the long war raised to eminence. Seventeen of the twenty-six
marshals of Napoleon were among them.
* * * * *