The French Revolution

by Sir Charles Edward Mallet

The predominance, however, of the advanced politicians was most noticeable in the press. The French Revolution is the age which marks the accession of the Press to power, as a principal force in the government of States. Up to within a few years of the Revolution, French readers had been satisfied with such information as they could gather from the ancient Gazette de France, which dated from the days of Richelieu, or from the highly-respected Mercure, the chief journal of the days of Louis XIV. The first daily paper published in France, the Journal de Paris, dated from 1777, and was only an unpretending sheet filled with odds and ends of literature and news. But from 1780 onwards a new period of activity began. Enterprising publishers like Panckoucke and Prudhomme found their opportunities suddenly increase. Brilliant writers like Linguet, Brissot, and Mallet du Pan, publishing their opinions, under many difficulties, in London, Brussels, Geneva and Paris, began to make their mark in ephemeral literature. As the Revolution approached, a flood of pamphlets and broadsheets appeared. Volney in Brittany roused the democratic enthusiasm of his province with the bold doctrines of the Sentinelle du Peuple. Panckoucke, already the owner of both the Mercure and the Gazette de France, planned the publication of the Moniteur. Prudhomme, with a stronger belief in democratic principles, brought out, two days before the capture of the Bastille, the first number of the Révolutions de Paris.

But with the meeting of the States-General, the glories of journalism really began, and the most conspicuous member of the Assembly was the first to appeal against the policy of the Court to the independent judgment of the Press. On the 2nd May, Mirabeau issued the first number of the Journal des Etats-Généraux, and when his sharp criticism of Necker provoked the Government to suppress the paper, he proceeded to fill its place with the series of Letters addressed to his constituents, which, after the capture of the Bastille, took the form of a regular journal and the title of the Courrier de Provence. Mirabeau's object was to inform his constituents of the proceedings and policy of the Assembly, and in so doing to promulgate his own views. The Courrier de Provence, which he ceased to edit, but to which he continued to contribute to the end of his life, often rose above a chronicle of affairs to a very high level of political discussion, and remained of great importance as the chief exponent of his views. Mirabeau's example was soon followed by one of his colleagues. In the middle of June, Barère began his journalistic career with the publication of the Point du Jour, a daily journal at first moderate in tone, and chiefly remarkable for its accounts of the proceedings of the Assembly. The reporting of debates rapidly developed into a distinct branch of journalism. Out of it arose the Journal des Débats, which still exists. And the most famous reporter of the day, the author, from the beginning of 1790, of the celebrated reports in the Moniteur, was the young Maret, whom a strange experience was afterwards to make Duc de Bassano and director of the foreign policy of France.

Outside the National Assembly were four journalists on the democratic side, whose writings, among many other newspapers the names of which cannot be chronicled here, enjoyed conspicuous popularity, and three of whom were destined before long to play conspicuous parts as politicians. Brissot, once a fellow-clerk with Robespierre in a lawyer's office, had, in the vicissitudes of a singular career, in which his private character had not escaped reproach, acquired a reputation as a pamphleteer of advanced and cosmopolitan views. In the summer of 1789, he became the editor of the Patriote Français, and he made that paper the organ of those theoretic and philanthropic sentiments which the Girondists afterwards combined with advanced republican opinions. Another noted journalist, Loustallot, the youngest and most brilliant of the democratic writers, became, until his death in September, 1790, the chief contributor to the Révolutions de Paris, and his fervent enthusiasm, his great ability, his bold and stirring phrases, sometimes falling into violence, his fine, emotional, ill-governed belief in the splendour of freedom and in the virtue of the people, secured for the paper with which he was connected an astonishing circulation and success. By the side of Loustallot in the ranks of journalism there stands a figure equally attractive, but intended for a greater part. Camille Desmoulins was one of the many young advocates who, at the outset of the Revolution, forsook for dreams of literature and politics the barren realities of law, and in return for the doubtful sacrifice found themselves suddenly a power in the State. Raised to fame on the 12th July by his memorable harangue in the Palais Royal, Camille Desmoulins determined to dedicate to journalism the gaiety, the light touch, the mocking eloquence and careless wit, which veiled his unconsidered views and his genuine love of freedom, and in the autumn of 1789 he brought out the Révolutions de France et de Brabant. Lastly, in September, 1789, there appeared the first number of a newspaper, which, under the title of the Ami du Peuple, was soon to acquire a sinister fame, and which, by the violence of its language, and the wild, suspicious indignation of its tone, represented more truly than any other journal the temper, the fears, the bitterness, the passions, which animated the most ignorant and necessitous class.

Marat, the editor of this celebrated paper, had already had a remarkable career, and his ascendency in the Revolution is one of the phenomena of the time. From his childhood upwards he seems to have been of a morbidly nervous and sensitive disposition, keenly intelligent and alert, ambitious of knowledge and rapid in acquiring it, fond of science, and at the same time devoted to speculative enquiry, endowed with an extraordinary belief in his own powers and a jealous distrust of the abilities of others, strongly pronounced in his own opinions, and unrestrained in attacking those who differed from him. In later life it is probable that his constitutional, morbid irritability impaired his reason, but there is no ground for denying that his abilities were really considerable, although they were often vitiated by a perverse singularity of view. Early in life Marat made a reputation as a physician and man of science, and for several years he resided in England, where he seems at one time to have enjoyed a practice in Soho. His writings on all sorts of topics made him well known, and he signalised himself by attacking Newton and Locke, and by engaging in controversy with Helvetius and Voltaire. From science and philosophy Marat plunged into politics. He became connected with some of the popular societies in England, which were then busily agitating for reform, and his democratic opinions made him keenly alive to the defects of the English Parliamentary system in the eighteenth century. On returning to France, he received an appointment on the establishment of the Comte d'Artois, and obtained some experience of life at Court. His scientific work continued to win him reputation, but it appears that his views, or more probably his manner of expressing them, made him unpopular in his profession, and the coldness with which he was treated still further embittered his irritable nature. The approach of the Revolution at last gave him an opportunity to display the devotion to democratic ideals, which was perhaps the most genuine passion of his mind; and his real love for what he thought was freedom, his unceasing insistence on the needs and sufferings of the multitude, his fearless attacks upon the powerful and great, his jealous hatred of superiority, whether of wealth, of wisdom, or of station, struck a chord in the hearts of the poor, and won for Marat the enthusiastic attachment of thousands, who could feel panic and hunger, although they could not think. From the first, the Ami du Peuple preached the doctrine of suspicion. It attacked, often with reckless and cruel libels, all who were in power. It spared no invective. It hesitated at no calumny. It was always urging the people to action, always warning them to guard against the traitors in the Court, in the army, in the Assembly, and in the clubs. It claimed for itself the utmost license, and boldly threw upon those whom it denounced the burden of proving their innocence to the people. In vain the authorities attempted to restrain it, and threatened its editor with prosecution and punishment. In vain Lafayette exerted his influence to crush the dauntless advocate of the needy, the dauntless minister of sedition and spite. Persecution only made Marat more bitter in his warnings, and endeared him more to those who half believed his warnings to be true.

But while the democratic Press claimed the largest indulgence for itself, the people who accepted its teaching would permit no indulgence to their opponents. From the reactionary Press they had not much to fear. Three newspapers of some importance were subsidised by the Court, the Actes des Apôtres, the Ami du Roi, and the Journal général de la Cour et de la Ville, popularly known as Petit Gautier. But none of these productions showed any real literary or political merit, and for the most part the contributors to them, of whom the Vicomte de Mirabeau is a not unfair type, contented themselves with ridicule and obscenity, with witty personalities or vulgar abuse. Only one journal of the first rank, the Mercure, continued to brave unpopularity by a steady defence of liberty and order, and under the guidance of Mallet du Pan, supported with eloquence and staunch moderation the views which Malouet vainly endeavoured to recommend to the Assembly. But again and again self-constituted critics, deputations from the Palais Royal, representatives of the mob, and even the agents of the local authorities, denounced, remonstrated and interfered with the writer, and plainly threatened with violence and death any one who dared to use the freedom of the Press to defend unpopular, though liberal, opinions. Under such conditions, and having regard to the disorganisation and unwisdom of the royalists, and to the energy and enthusiasm which pervaded the popular party, it is not surprising that the power of the Press came to be enlisted almost entirely upon the democratic side, and helped to render irresistible the victorious advocates of the Revolution.

Among the politicians of this early period, there were a few men whose importance raised them above others, and whose attitude demands special attention. When the States-General met at Versailles, the two most popular men in France were probably Necker and the Duke of Orleans. Philippe of Orleans was a cousin of the King. His lax principles and enormous fortune had won him celebrity as a leader of fashion, and his dislike of Louis, increased by the scanty favour shown him at Court, and stimulated by his own ambition and the advice of interested friends, induced him to espouse the popular cause. Before the outbreak of the Revolution, the Duke had displayed his liberal opinions by taking a conspicuous part in the opposition which the Parlement of Paris offered to Brienne. His money was of the greatest service in circulating popular pamphlets. His rank and the political position which he assumed, secured him the honour of a triple election to the States-General. The gardens of his residence in the Palais-Royal, already thrown open by the Duke to the public, became the headquarters of the revolutionary party in Paris. His agents, not, apparently, without his sanction, deliberately encouraged disorder in the capital, and hoped, by rendering Louis' position untenable, to secure for their master high political position, and possibly the title of Constitutional King. The Duke himself, though unprincipled and mischievous, was rather a man of pleasure than a skilful politician, and his influence was due less to his abilities than to his rank and fortune, and to the energy of his supporters. His wealth and prospects procured him the services of Duport, one of the ablest tacticians in the Assembly, until Duport found that nothing was to be made of so disappointing a leader. They gained him the support of the licentious but clever Laclos, who proved himself a most useful auxiliary at the Jacobin Club, and of St. Hurugues, a worthless, brawling nobleman, who headed all the important riots in Paris during the early years of the Revolution. How far the Duke's money and influence were used to stimulate panic and insurrection, and to spread false rumours in the capital, it is not possible accurately to say. But it is certain that his name played a large part in the riot which ended in the capture of the Bastille, and it is certain that the rising of the 5th October was encouraged, if not originated, by his agents, in the expectation that the violence of the rioters might clear the way for Orleans to the throne. On that occasion, however, the Duke was outmatched by his watchful rival Lafayette, and soon afterwards he allowed himself to be driven by Lafayette's menacing attitude into the polite exile of a mission to London. His banishment, and the tameness with which he submitted to it, disgusted his adherents and shattered his party; and although, on his return, he still remained for some time longer influential for mischief, and from the resources which he commanded, a dangerous enemy to the Court and to Lafayette, the Duke's opportunity was really over, and he gradually descended into the contempt which he deserved.

Necker, too, lived to learn the bitterness of being found out. At the beginning of May, 1789, he was the only man high in the counsels of the Government believed to be a friend to freedom, and as such he enjoyed a popularity somewhat undeserved. For a few months that popularity lingered. His disappointing speech on the meeting of the States-General, and the vacillating policy which followed it, very soon opened the eyes of those who came into contact with him; but his dismissal in July saved his reputation for the moment, and made him, until his return, the popular hero. From the day of his return, however, his popularity declined. His unsatisfactory finance and his inability or unwillingness to face the economic situation, rapidly destroyed his fame as a financier. His indecisive views, his jealousy of rivals, his determination not to admit Mirabeau to power, and the indirect support which he consequently gave to the disastrous decree of the 7th November, 1789, his entire want of statesmanship, if statesmanship implies insight and resource, and his helplessness on all occasions when people turned to him for help, rapidly made him a non-entity. 'M. Necker,' said Mirabeau, with bitter truth, 'has no idea of what he wants, of what he ought, or of what he is able to do.' In September, 1790, thoroughly alienated from the revolutionary leaders, vexed by the decline of his popularity, and harassed by the vagaries of an Assembly which he was powerless to control, Necker at last resigned his post, and carried another lost reputation into exile.

Another politician of high place, but of less importance, was the King's eldest brother, Monsieur, le Comte de Provence. From the first, this prince had been the persistent enemy of the Queen, and had busily intrigued against her influence and reputation. His exact hopes are not easy to discover, for his conduct was not always consistent or clear; but it seems that he cherished the idea of supplanting Louis on the throne, and waited with quiet, deliberate selfishness, to see if the Revolution would bring the opportunity of doing so in his way. He did not, like Orleans, throw himself headlong into the arms of the revolutionary party, nor did he, like his younger brother, the Comte d'Artois, put himself at the head of the reactionary royalists. He refrained from committing himself to either side, and continued to exercise a great deal of influence over the mind of the King. The part which he took in bringing Mirabeau into relation with the Court seems to indicate some degree of political wisdom; but whether in so doing he intended to serve the King, or only wished to preserve the interests of a crown which he hoped to secure for himself, it is impossible to say. The intrigues and manœuvres of the Comte de Provence ought not to be viewed in the same light as the more guilty ones of the Duke of Orleans, and his character is less entitled to contempt. But he cannot be regarded as loyal or friendly to his brother, and his attitude emphatically illustrates the precarious isolation of the King.

Two men, however, Lafayette and Mirabeau, during the first two years of the Revolution, surpassed all competitors in influence and power. Of these two, in actual authority Lafayette stood first, and in the middle of the year 1790 he was by far the most powerful man in France. Lafayette's disposition was not without elements of nobleness. He was a brave and high-principled man, very capable of fine feeling and enthusiasm, and by no means devoid of generosity or honour. He was strongly attached to his own idea of freedom, and he believed it to be his peculiar destiny to secure it for his country. His rank and fortune, the wide reputation which his enterprising voyage to America had won him, his well-known advanced opinions, and above all the fortunate chance which made him Commander of the National Guard of Paris, and thus controller of the armed force of the Revolution, combined to raise him to an extraordinary position. Had he only known how to use it, Lafayette might have made himself master of the destinies of France. Never again, till the days of Brumaire, did such an opportunity fall to the lot of a French politician.

In some respects Lafayette is a character to whom it is difficult to be just. His opportunities were so great. His limitations were so obvious. His failure was so complete. But it is possible that his failure inclines us to judge him too harshly. It is not fair to condemn a man because he could not understand a portent, to censure a politician who could not cope with the French Revolution. Had Lafayette been a worse man, he might have fared better than he did. Had he been a less conspicuous man, he would have borne a higher reputation to-day. He was certainly ambitious. He was certainly vain. He had little breadth of judgment or of vision. He was too much the slave of his own formulas. He was too ready to echo democratic phrases, without considering whether they applied or not. He was too ready to destroy the authority of the Crown, to reduce the ministers to puppets, to encourage the rash schemes of the Assembly. He was too ready to spend time and pains in winning popularity from the bourgeois of Paris. He was too ready to countenance dubious acts of policy and intrigue. He had not sufficient statesmanship to see the dangers of the time and the imperative necessity of combined and well-considered action. His stiff propriety would not permit him to associate with Mirabeau, even for public ends. But still, in a day when the character of many public men was low, Lafayette's motives were neither sordid nor corrupt, and all through his long career he displayed a staunch loyalty to his honest, if limited, ideals. Unwavering consistency, although the virtue of weak men, often lends dignity to conduct, and that dignity Lafayette possessed. The worst charge which can be brought against him in the early days of the Revolution is that his policy mingled too largely with ideas of personal aggrandisement. From the 5th and 6th October, when his doubtful behaviour secured him the first power in the State, Lafayette's chief object seems to have been so to organise the National Guard, as to maintain his own dictatorship, to assert the predominance of the middle classes, with whose views he cordially agreed, and to repress all attempts from the Court, from Mirabeau, from the multitude, or from any other quarter, to lead the political movement into courses which would take its direction out of his hands.