Chapter 3

The French Revolution: Liberty, Equality, Fraternity

In This Chapter

Planting the seeds of revolution

Seeking equality for the third estate

Gaining from chaos

Riding the wave

T he last half of the 18th century was a period of major turmoil on two continents. Depending on your point of view, it was either a time of tumultuous upheaval that destroyed the stability of civilization, or it was a period of progressive change that swept out ancient, decaying regimes and replaced them with a system that would ultimately lead to the betterment of humankind. Either way, the world was clearly never going to be the same again.

Two events shaped the last half of the 18th century and all that was to follow: the United States War of Independence (or American Revolution ) and the French Revolution. As I explain in this chapter, the two events were closely linked.

The Declaration of Independence, adopted in 1776, propelled the colonies into war with Great Britain. Based on the ideas of religious liberty and representative government, the Declaration of Independence stunned the old order. But while her ideals were bold, the United States herself remained weak and tentative even after the war was won. Most of her energy was spent in the complex and difficult task of building a nation.

The United States didn’t fight her war alone. Her strongest ally was France. King Louis XVI sent soldiers, arms, ammunition, money, and anything else he could to help the Americans defeat the British. King Louis didn’t have a sudden conversion to belief in democracy. But anything that would weaken France’s old nemesis, Great Britain, was fine with him.

Little did King Louis know that he was laying the groundwork for his own demise. The soldiers and officers who went to America came home with new ideas of freedom and an understanding that it was possible for the people to overthrow a government. As I explain in this chapter, just a few years after the American Revolution, the people of France did just that.

Tension at Versailles

As the 18th century entered its final quarter, the palace of Versailles near Paris symbolized both the glorious past and the perilous future of France. Built by Louis XIII in 1623 as a hunting lodge, it was expanded by Louis XIV starting in 1669 as a statement of both personal and state power. In its new, extravagant form, Versailles reflected an increasingly strong and centralized French state.

But Versailles also exposed the cracks in the social structure of 18th-century France — cracks that would ultimately lead to revolution.

Reflecting disparity

A long-standing conflict existed between kings and nobles in France for two key reasons:

The nobility constantly struggled with the king for power.

The nobility refused to pay taxes, even though they accounted for most of the country’s wealth.

As I explain in the next section, this second point was a particularly sore spot, because France had racked up quite a debt over the years.

Louis XIV tried to ease the tension by having many of the nobles live in Versailles, where he could keep an eye on them. But Versailles was expensive, and Louis wasn’t picking up the nobles’ expenses. Low on funds and out of touch with the country, these nobles became even less likely to agree to pay the taxes that were increasingly necessary to run the state.

Versailles also symbolized the yawning gap between the top levels of French society and its mass of people who made up the bottom 98 percent. The poor were unable to purchase anything but the most basic necessities, and their lives were defined by fear, hunger, humiliation, and exhaustion. For them, Versailles increasingly became the symbol of a monarchy completely out of touch with the reality that was France.

Symbolizing massive debt

When Versailles became home to Louis XVI, the latest in a long line of Bourbon kings, it also symbolized the most desperate of French problems of the era: the enormous debt that had been carried forth since the days of Louis XIV. This debt was based on the cost of assorted expensive wars, as well as the cost of the palace itself and the lifestyle of its inhabitants.

The debt was the most basic underlying cause of the French Revolution. Approximately 50 percent of all government revenue went to servicing the debt, with another 25 percent going to current military expenses. That didn’t leave much to cover everything else a government needs to do.

One of the major sources of debt was the help France gave to the U.S. War of Independence. Without that help, history may have taken a sharp turn in a different direction. If the American Revolution had failed for lack of French support, the French Revolution may never have occurred. But because France did provide that help, the history of both the United States and Europe moved in progressive directions. The ideals of the United States, combined with those of the Enlightenment (especially Jean Jacques Rousseau), which emphasized individual freedom and the right to determine one’s government, ultimately fueled the intellectual engines of the French Revolution.

Convening the Estates General

In the spring of 1789, Louis XVI, besieged with difficulties on all fronts, took desperate measures. Facing crop failures, rising crime, the intransigence of the clergy and nobility regarding taxes, and the refusal of banks to loan additional funds, Louis called a meeting of the Estates General, a sort of congress or parliament.

The Estates General, which had not met since 1614, reflected the deep divisions in French society. The Estates General consisted of 300 representatives of the First Estate (clergy), 300 representatives of the Second Estate (nobility), and 600 representatives of the Third Estate (everyone else, mostly city workers and rural peasants). I explain the three estates in more detail in the sidebar cleverly titled “The three estates.” Louis XVI called this body together in 1789 to try to solve the problem that was created largely by the clergy’s and nobility’s refusal to accept their fair share of taxes.

King Louis hoped that the Estates General would pass some economic reforms, including requiring the nobles to pay some taxes. Instead, the Estates General created a new social and political order in France.

Refusing to be dominated by the first two estates, the majority of people (who made up the Third Estate), along with their liberal allies in the other estates, called for sweeping changes. When the king refused to cooperate with their agenda, they took the famous Tennis Court Oath on June 20, 1789, in which they declared that they were now the National Assembly and vowed to write a constitution.

The three estates

Since the early Middle Ages, French society had been divided into three estates. These estates were somewhat like what we would call social classes, but they were much more rigidly defined:

The First Estate was the clergy. This estate included everyone from the local parish priest (or cure) to an archbishop. While the priests often lived simply, the higher clergy were very wealthy and had the lifestyles to show it. The First Estate contained about half of 1 percent of the French population, or some 150,000 people, but most of the estate’s wealth was concentrated in the richest 10,000 of them, some of whom lived with the nobles in Versailles. Most of church wealth was gained by a tithe on the common people. Rich as some of them were, members of the First Estate did not pay taxes.

The Second Estate was the nobility. About equal in number to the First Estate, the Second Estate had great wealth, largely concentrated in a relative handful of incredibly wealthy nobles. And — surprise — the nobles paid no taxes! Also, the nobility had certain privileges, such as the ability to hunt on anyone’s land without liability for damaging crops or other property. These privileges rankled many of the peasants even more than the lack of taxation. The nobles were in constant competition with the king for power and would not accept any reforms that required them to pay taxes.

The Third Estate was everyone else. This included about 500,000 middle class people (a few of whom had a fair amount of money), about 2.5 million city workers (often called sans culottes because they didn’t wear the elegant knee britches favored by the nobility), and more than 22 million very poor peasants. The peasants lived on the edge of despair. They had very little hope for improvement in their lot, and they often turned to highway robbery or other forms of thievery to make ends meet. Oh, and one thing more: Guess who paid pretty much all of the taxes? That’s right, and the Third Estate found that fact rather revolting.

Sparking Revolution

The actions of the Third Estate had sweeping effects. Vast changes were underway, and people feared that foreign troops would be called into Paris to help defend the nobility against the reforms and reassert the power of the king. To prepare for such a possibility, a mob seized the Bastille, an old castle that was being used as a prison.

The mob raided the Bastille’s gunpowder supplies on July 14, 1789, and the Revolution was underway in full force. (That date is now known as Bastille Day, the equivalent of Independence Day in the United States.) In short order, the peasants of the countryside were armed and storming throughout the country, destroying financial records and forcing many nobles to flee for their lives.

On August 4, the nobility agreed to give up its hated privileges, and the National Assembly essentially eliminated the feudal system. The Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen was passed, along with many other reforms.

Lacking the king’s support

Throughout all of this, the people wanted their king to be part of their Revolution. You can clearly see this fact in Figure 3-1, which shows a locket meant to be worn by delegates to the National Assembly. On one side you have Louis, and on the other side a caption that translates as “The Law and the King, National Assembly, 1789.” (The portrait of the king was probably meant to be flattering, even if it doesn’t look that way to us now.)

Figure 3-1: This locket shows early support for the king as part of the Revolution.

The people may have wanted Louis to join in their Revolution, but the king and queen (Marie Antoinette) were having none of it. Eventually, they fled the capital, hoping to link up with Austrian forces and perhaps retake the country. Unfortunately for them, Louis was recognized in the French village of Varennes and forced to return to Paris. A centuries-old era was about to draw to a close.

Battling the old order

The Revolutionaries preached a message of universal rejection of the old order, and the old order of other nations heard them and reacted. Threats led to war which, in time, led to French victories over Austria and Prussia. Inspired by Georges-Jacques Danton, the new French army, with a little help from a certain officer named Bonaparte, ultimately proved itself a worthy opponent to the combined armies of Europe. (See the sidebar “Who was who in the French Revolution” for more information on Danton and other Revolutionary leaders.)

A nation at war against the established order could hardly continue as a member of that same order. In January 1793, the inevitable happened, and Louis XVI was executed. When that happened, the number of nobles who emigrated increased, and the battle lines both within and without France hardened. (See Chapter 4 for more on Revolutionary conflict.) A few months later, Queen Marie Antoinette was also executed (see Figure 3-2).

Figure 3-2: This period ivory snuffbox shows Queen Marie Antoinette.

Who was who in the French Revolution

I could write a whole book on this topic. The Revolution had a virtually endless cast of characters. Here are just a few whose activities were important to the development of Napoleon’s career:

Maximilien Robespierre (1758–1794): One of the most radical of the Revolutionaries, Maximilien rose to leadership of the radical Jacobin club, a group of people who had meetings to plan ways to control the direction of the Revolution. In time, he became the most powerful member of the Committee of Public Safety, the dozen or so people who made up the executive branch of government from roughly 1793 to 1795. And in 1793 and 1794, he promoted the use of terror (during a period called, not surprisingly, the Terror) to “purify” the Revolution. Responsible for the death of Georges-Jacques Danton and other alleged moderates, his actions provoked a backlash. He was arrested on July 27, 1794 and executed by guillotine the next day.

Augustine Robespierre (1763–1794): A major Revolutionary in his own right, Augustine wasn’t hurt any by being Maximilien’s brother (unless you count that messy business in 1794!). A lawyer by trade, Augustine was eventually sent to deal with difficulties in the south of France, where several cities, including Toulon, were actively opposing the French Revolution. There, he was instrumental in promoting the fortunes of a young officer named Bonaparte (see Chapter 4). He supported his brother Maximilien through thick and thin, and he joined him at the guillotine, having failed in an attempt to commit suicide.

Georges-Jacques Danton (1759–1794): A lawyer by trade (notice a trend here?), Danton became involved in the early days of the Revolution. He was known for his fiery oratory and, less advantageous to his career, his love of some of the finer things of life (that would be wine, women, and song). Though he had begun as a radical, he was soon seen as a moderate, a big no-no to Robespierre and his followers. He was given a sham trial and guillotined on April 5, 1794. He famously told the executioner to “show the crowd my head: it’s worth a look.”

Antonio Cristoforo Saliceti (1757–1809): A Corsican by birth and a lawyer by trade, Saliceti worked his way up through the Revolutionary hierarchy, developing a reputation for his radical beliefs along the way. His biggest issue was making Corsica a full part of France, and this interest brought him into contact with Napoleon. He was instrumental in getting Napoleon the command of artillery at Toulon and was involved with Napoleon’s arrest and subsequent release after the fall of the Robespierres. (I discuss both topics in Chapter 4.) He remained loyal to Napoleon, serving in several diplomatic posts until his death in Naples in 1809 under somewhat suspicious circumstances.

Louis Marie Stanislas Fréron (1754–1802): Born into a conservative family, Fréron was greatly taken by the French Revolutionary ideals and began publishing a radical newspaper, The Orator of the People. A member of the Convention, as the legislature was then called, he was made Representative on Mission to the south of France, where he became involved with the young Napoleon Bonaparte. Radical and rather bloodthirsty, Fréron was largely responsible for bloody retributions against counterrevolutionaries in Marseilles and Toulon (see Chapter 4). After the fall of the Robespierres, his career stagnated. On one mission to the south of France, he had a torrid affair with Napoleon’s sister, Pauline, but that relationship went nowhere. His last assignment was with the French expedition to Haiti, where he died of yellow fever.

Resorting to terror

Rather than be intimidated by increased external hostility, the Revolution entered a new and far more dangerous phase. Turning first against the old order and then against the Revolution itself, Maximilien Robespierre, the leader of the most radical group of Revolutionaries, used terror to “purify” the Revolution. This purification cost France first Danton, then Robespierre, and then its Revolution. It also eliminated, by guillotine (a device designed to cut off one’s head painlessly) or by flight, many of its military leaders, opening the way for a new cadre of leadership to evolve. I talk much more about this subject in Chapter 4.

The Terror and its aftermath led to retrenchment. Some reforms were abolished, and the middle class government of the Directory, a five-man executive committee that pretty much ran things, was established. Assailed from both Revolutionaries and royalists, this government completely failed to solve France’s increasing problems. Bankruptcy threatened, and fears of renewed violence spread. The nation, having survived ten years of turmoil, was ready for a leader who could promise both an end — and a beginning. (See Chapter 4 for more on France’s government after the fall of Robespierre.)

Supporting Revolution, Winning Support

It is against this backdrop that Napoleon first entered the military and political scene. Napoleon Bonaparte was an officer in the French army, a position that was a decidedly mixed blessing in those days. Officers in the French military had always been nobles, and many nobles had fled or been executed during the Revolution.

On the positive side, the loss of so many officers created numerous vacancies at the top, so to speak, and a bright young man like Napoleon had a good chance for advancement. Opportunities were also increased by the fact that France was at war; war always creates opportunities for advancement, one way or the other.

However, officers were under increasing surveillance and suspicion, and one wrong move or a word from the wrong person could literally cut someone’s career short. Political operatives, called Representatives on Mission, were keeping a close eye on the generals and often interjecting themselves into military decisions.

Keeping one foot in Corsica

Napoleon’s early military career was marked as much as anything by his extended leaves of absence to visit his birthplace, the island of Corsica. He left on one such leave in February 1787, became involved in political intrigues, and began to write a history of the island (see Chapter 2).

Back in France in June 1788, Napoleon was stationed in Auxonne under the command of General Jean-Pierre du Teil, who also happened to be a baron. Not surprisingly, du Teil was impressed with the brilliant young Napoleon and happy to advance his career. (Later on, du Teil’s brother, Jean, would be helpful as well.) Napoleon was learning at a very early stage that it isn’t just what you know but who you know that is important to success. As I discuss in Chapter 4, it was a lesson he would learn well.

Respecting the Revolutionary ideal

When the Paris mob stormed the Bastille on July 14, 1789, Napoleon was in Auxonne, far from the action. But Revolutionary fervor swept throughout much of the country, and Napoleon joined many others in developing a support for the ideal it embodied.

If supporting the peasants seems risky (after all, Napoleon was in the royal artillery), remember that in the early days of the Revolution there was very little talk of removing the king from power. Most people thought that Louis XVI was at least somewhat supportive of the Revolution and that maybe they’d end up with some kind of a constitutional monarchy.

Working for Corsican rights

Napoleon was never one to let a little thing like a revolution interfere with his plans, and very soon he was back on leave in Corsica. There, he became involved in the movement to make Corsica a part of France, rather than just a territory, which would make Corsicans full French citizens.

Corsica’s new leader was a man named Pasquale Paoli, and he and Napoleon became allied in the cause. But duty called, and Napoleon left Corsica to accept a new assignment in Valence. He was there when Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were caught in the village of Varennes as they tried to flee the country.

The king’s attempted escape outraged many people and served to radicalize the Revolution. After this event, there was far less talk of a constitutional monarchy and far more talk of a French Republic. Like many of his countrymen, Napoleon swore allegiance to the Revolution. Letters he wrote at the time seem to confirm that his feelings were quite honest.

His allegiance to the Revolution did not, however, prevent him from going on yet another leave to Corsica. (Let me tell you, when I was in the service, leaves were a lot harder to come by! In 18th-century France, long leaves were fairly common, but even then, Napoleon must surely have been pushing the envelope.)

Witnessing change

Back on Corsica in October 1791, Napoleon discovered that change was afoot. His hero, Paoli, had turned on the Revolution and had become a royalist (a supporter of the monarchy). The island was in turmoil, and there was little Napoleon could do. Forced at one point to actually fire on Corsican citizens, Napoleon returned to France in May 1792.

His leave had long been up, and Napoleon was in real danger of losing his military commission. Indeed, his name had already been removed from the military roles, so he hastened off to Paris to deal with the inevitable paperwork necessary for reinstatement.

Paris had certainly changed since his last visit. Revolution was in the air, and the king was in trouble. On June 20, 1792, the Paris mob surrounded the Tuileries Palace, the kings’ home when he was in Paris, and they spent much of the day shouting insults at him. On August 10, they returned. This time, they were not satisfied with insults. Members of the Swiss guard that were stationed to protect the king were slaughtered, and the king beat a very hasty retreat, seeking the protection of the National Assembly. It wasn’t a great move on his part, but his options were clearly limited. Napoleon actually witnessed the attack by the mob, and it made a clear impression on him. He would forever after fear mob action.

Fleeing home

Napoleon was promoted to captain, and to celebrate he took another — you guessed it! — leave to Corsica, arriving in September 1792. This trip did not go well. Napoleon, his family, and his friend Antonio Cristoforo Saliceti, a native of Corsica and a representative of the Revolutionary government in Paris, soon found themselves in very hot water with Paoli, who had really turned against the Revolution. The Bonapartes were literally in danger of losing their lives, so Napoleon and his family left their family estate and quickly sailed for France in June 1793.

Getting a warm reception in France

While Napoleon was on Corsica, events in France had taken a major turn (for the better or worse, depending on your point of view). On January 21, 1793, King Louis XVI was executed by the guillotine for treason. The monarchy was over, at least for the time being, and it was replaced by a Revolutionary government run by a legislative body and several committees.

Napoleon’s actions in Corsica caused him trouble there, but his pro-Revolutionary stance led to a favorable reception in France. Stationed in Nice, his commander was Jean du Teil, brother of his former commanding officer at Auxonne.

Some of Napoleon’s duties caused him to be stationed at Avignon. During his stay there, he wrote a short story called “Le Souper de Beaucaire” (“Supper at Beaucaire”). In this story, Napoleon argued for all French to rally to the cause of the Revolution, and he supported the most radical of the various branches of the Revolution. (If you visit Avignon today, you can still see the building where Napoleon wrote the story.)

Needless to say, the Revolutionary government was pleased. The most powerful organization in the French government, the Committee of Public Safety, gave the story its blessing. At the head of the Committee was the de facto ruler of France, Maximilien Robespierre, whose brother, Augustine, had become friendly with Napoleon. The future emperor was already running in some pretty lofty circles.

Showing signs of greatness

Thus far, Napoleon’s career had depended on several things. First and foremost was his own brilliance. His commanders and those around him could see that he was a man of extraordinary talent. But Napoleon also gained from his ability to make influential friends and use that friendship to advantage. Doing so was not cynical; it reflected an astute understanding that success is achieved through more than one approach.

Napoleon was also willing to take risks and stand up for what he believed. A cynic may say that in supporting the Revolution he was merely “riding the wave,” but his later actions showed that he really did believe in at least some of the ideals of the French Revolution.

One story about Napoleon relates a time when he was being told of the various leadership virtues of a particular officer. Napoleon is said to have commented, “Yes, but is he lucky?” Luck can be defined in many ways, including simply being in the right place at the right time with the right people close at hand. Napoleon had that luck for much of his life, and never more so than in the next stage of his career.