1. CHAPTER I
THE LAST CONVULSIONS OF ANARCHY—THE
DIRECTORY
1. The Psychology of the Directory.
AS the various revolutionary assemblies were composed in part
of the same men, one might suppose that their psychology would be
very similar.
At ordinary periods this would have been so, for a
constant environment means constancy of character. But when
circumstances change as rapidly as they did under the Revolution,
character must perforce transform itself to adapt itself thereto.
Such was the case with the Directory.
The Directory comprised several distinct assemblies: two
large chambers, consisting of different categories of deputies,
and one very small chamber, which consisted of the five
Directors.
The two larger Assemblies remind one strongly of the
Convention by their weakness. They were no longer forced to obey
popular riots, as these were energetically prevented by the
Directors, but
they yielded without discussion to the dictatorial injunctions of
the latter.
The first deputies to be elected were mostly moderates.
Everyone was weary of the Jacobin tyranny. The new Assembly
dreamed of rebuilding the ruins with which France was covered,
and establishing a liberal government without violence.
But by one of those fatalities which were a law of the
Revolution, and which prove that the course of events is often
superior to men's wills, these deputies, like their predecessors,
may be said always to have done the contrary of what they wished
to do. They hoped to be moderate, and they were violent; they
wanted to eliminate the influence of the Jacobins, and they
allowed themselves to be led by them; they thought to repair the
ruins of the country and they succeeded only in adding others to
them; they aspired to religious peace, and they finally
persecuted and massacred the priests with greater rigour than
during the Terror.
The psychology of the little assembly formed by the five
Directors was very different from that of the Chamber of
Deputies. Encountering fresh difficulties daily, the directors
were forced to resolve them, while the large Assemblies, without
contact with realities, had only their aspirations.
The prevailing thought of the Directors was very simple.
Highly indifferent to principles, they wished above all to remain
the masters of France. To attain that result they did not shrink
from resorting to the most illegitimate measures, even annulling
the elections of a great number of the departments when these
embarrassed them.
Feeling themselves incapable of reorganising France, they
left her to herself. By their despotism they contrived to
dominate her, but they never governed her. Now, what France
needed more than anything at this juncture was to be governed.
The convention has left behind it the reputation of a
strong Government, and the Directory that of a weak Government.
The contrary is true: it was the Directory that was the strong
Government.
Psychologically we may readily explain the difference
between the Government of the Directory and that of the preceding
Assemblies by recalling the fact that a gathering of six hundred
to seven hundred persons may well suffer from waves of contagious
enthusiasm, as on the night of the 4th of August, or even
impulses of energetic will-power, such as that which launched
defiance against the kings of Europe. But such impulses are too
ephemeral to possess any great force. A committee of five
members, easily dominated by the will of one, is far more
susceptible of continuous resolution—that is, of perseverance in
a settled line of conduct.
The Government of the Directory proved to be always
incapable of governing, but it never lacked a strong will.
Nothing restraining it, neither respect for law nor consideration
for the citizens, nor love of the public welfare, it was able to
impose upon France a despotism more crushing than that of any
Government since the beginning of the Revolution, not excepting
the Terror.
Although it utilised methods analogous to those of the
Convention, and ruled France in the most tyrannical manner, the
Directory, no more than the Convention, was never the master of
France.
This fact, which I have already noted, proves once more
the impotence of material constraint to dominate moral forces.
It cannot be too often repeated that the true guide of mankind is
the moral scaffolding erected by his ancestors.
Accustomed to live in an organised society, supported by
codes and respected traditions, we can with difficulty represent
to ourselves the condition of a nation deprived of such a basis.
As a general thing we only see the irksome side of our
environment, too readily forgetting that society can exist only
on condition of imposing certain restraints, and that laws,
manners, and custom constitute a check upon the natural instincts
of barbarism which never entirely perishes.
The history of the Convention and the Directory which
followed it shows plainly to what degree disorder may overcome a
nation deprived of its ancient structure, and having for guide
only the artificial combinations of an insufficient reason.
2. Despotic Government of the Directory. Recrudescence
of the Terror.
With the object of diverting attention, occupying the army,
and obtaining resources by the pillage of neighbouring countries,
the Directors decided to resume the wars of conquest which had
succeeded under the Convention.
These continued during the life time of the Directory.
The armies won a rich booty, especially in Italy.
Some of the invaded populations were so simple as to
suppose that these invasions were undertaken in their interest.
They were not long in discovering
that all military operations were accompanied by crushing taxes
and the pillage of churches, public treasuries, &c.
The final consequence of this policy of conquest was the
formation of a new coalition against France, which lasted until
1801.
Indifferent to the state of the country and incapable of
reorganising it, the Directors were principally concerned in
struggling against an incessant series of conspiracies in order
to keep in power.
This task was enough to occupy their leisure, for the
political parties had not disarmed. Anarchy had reached such a
point that all were calling for a hand powerful enough to restore
order. Everyone felt, the Directors included, that the
republican system could not last much longer.
Some dreamed of re-establishing royalty, others the
Terrorist system, while others waited for a general. Only the
purchasers of the national property feared a change of
Government.
The unpopularity of the Directory increased daily, and
when in May, 1797, the third part of the Assembly had to be
renewed, the majority of those elected were hostile to the
system.
The Directors were not embarrassed by a little thing like
that. They annulled the elections in 49 departments; 154 of the
new deputies were invalidated and expelled, 53 condemned to
deportation. Among these latter figured the most illustrious
names of the Revolution: Portalis, Carnot, Tronson du Coudray,
&c.
To intimidate the electors, military commissions condemned
to death, rather at random, 160 persons, and sent to Guiana 330,
of whom half speedily died.
The
emigrés and priests who had returned to France
were violently expelled. This was known as the
coup
d'État of Fructidor.
This coup, which struck more especially at the
moderates, was not the only one of its kind; another quickly
followed. The Directors, finding the Jacobin deputies too
numerous, annulled the elections of sixty of them.
The preceding facts displayed the tyrannical temper of the
Directors, but this appeared even more plainly in the details of
their measures. The new masters of France also proved to be as
bloodthirsty as the most ferocious deputies of the Terror.
The guillotine was not re-established as a permanency, but
replaced by deportation under conditions which left the victims
little chance of survival. Sent to Rochefort in cages of iron
bars, exposed to all the severities of the weather, they were
then packed into boats.
“Between the decks of the Décade and the
Bayonnaise,” says Taine, “the miserable prisoners,
suffocated by the lack of air and the torrid heat, bullied and
fleeced, died of hunger or asphyxia, and Guiana completed the
work of the voyage: of 193 taken thither by the
Décade 39 were left alive at the end of twenty-two
months; of 120 taken by the Bayonnaise 1 remained.
Observing everywhere a Catholic renascence, and imagining
that the clergy were conspiring against them, the Directors
deported or sent to the galleys in one year 1,448 priests, to say
nothing of a large number who were summarily executed. The
Terror was in reality completely re-established.
The autocratic despotism of the Directory was exercised in
all the branches of the administration, notably the finances.
Thus, having need of six hundred million francs, it forced the
deputies, always docile, to vote a progressive impost, which
yielded, however, only twelve millions. Being presently in the
same condition, it decreed a forced loan of a hundred millions,
which resulted in the closing of workshops, the stoppage of
business, and the dismissal of domestics. It was only at the
price of absolute ruin that forty millions could be obtained.
To assure itself of domination in the provinces the
Directory caused a so-called law of hostages to be passed,
according to which a list of hostages, responsible for all
offences, was drawn up in each commune.
It is easy to understand what hatred such a system
provoked. At the end of 1799 fourteen departments were in revolt
and forty-six were ready to rise. If the Directory had lasted
the dissolution of society would have been complete.
For that matter, this dissolution was far advanced.
Finances, administration, everything was crumbling. The receipts
of the Treasury, consisting of depreciated assignats
fallen to a hundredth part of their original value, were
negligible. Holders of Government stock and officers could no
longer obtain payment.
France at this time gave travellers the impression of a
country ravaged by war and abandoned by its inhabitants. The
broken bridges and dykes and ruined buildings made all traffic
impossible. The roads, long deserted, were infested by brigands.
Certain departments could only be crossed at the price of buying
a safe-conduct from the leaders of
these bands. Industry and commerce were annihilated. In Lyons
13,000 workshops and mills out of 15,000 had been forced to
close. Lille, Havre, Bordeaux, Lyons, Marseilles, &c., were like
dead cities. Poverty and famine were general.
The moral disorganisation was no less terrible. Luxury
and the craving for pleasure, costly dinners, jewels, and
extravagant households were the appanage of a new society
composed entirely of stock-jobbers, army contractors, and shady
financiers enriched by pillage. They gave Paris that superficial
aspect of luxury and gaiety which has deluded so many historians
of this period, because the insolent prodigality displayed
covered the general misery.
The chronicles of the Directory as told in books help to
show us of what lies the web of history is woven. The theatre
has lately got hold of this period, of which the fashions are
still imitated. It has left the memory of a joyous period of
rebirth after the gloomy drama of the Terror. In reality the
drama of the Directory was hardly an improvement on the Terror
and was quite as sanguinary. Finally, it inspired such loathing
that the Directors, feeling that it could not last, sought
themselves for the dictator capable of replacing it and also of
protecting them.
3. The Advent of Bonaparte.
We have seen that at the end of the Directory the anarchy and
disorganisation were such that every one was desperately calling
for the man of energy capable of re-establishing order. As early
as 1795 a number of deputies had thought for a moment of re-establishing royalty. Louis XVIII., having been tactless
enough to declare that he would restore the
ancien
régime in its entirety, return all property to its
original owners, and punish the men of the Revolution, was
immediately thrown over. The senseless expedition of Quiberon
finally alienated the supporters of the future sovereign. The
royalists gave a proof during the whole of the Revolution of an
incapacity and a narrowness of mind which justified most of the
measures taken against them.
The monarchy being impossible, it was necessary to find a
general. Only one existed whose name carried weight—Bonaparte.
The campaign in Italy had just made him famous. Having crossed
the Alps, he had marched from victory to victory, penetrated to
Milan and Venice, and everywhere obtained important war
contributions. He then made towards Vienna, and was only twenty-
five leagues from its gates when the Emperor of Austria decided
to sue for peace.
But great as was his renown, the young general did not
consider it sufficient. To increase it he persuaded the
Directory that the power of England could be shaken by an
invasion of Egypt, and in May, 1798, he embarked at Toulon.
This need of increasing his prestige arose from a very
sound psychological conception which he clearly expounded at St.
Helena:—
“The most influential and enlightened generals had
long been pressing the general of Italy to take steps to place
himself at the head of the Republic. He refused; he was not yet
strong enough to walk quite alone. He had ideas upon the art of
governing and upon what was necessary to a great nation which
were so different from those of the men of the Revolution and the
assemblies that, not being able to act alone, he feared to
compromise his character. He determined to set out for Egypt,
but resolved to reappear if circumstances should arise to render
his presence useful or necessary.”
Bonaparte did not stay long in Egypt. Recalled by his
friends, he landed at Frejus, and the announcement of his return
provoked universal enthusiasm. There were illuminations
everywhere. France collaborated in advance in the coup
d'État prepared by two Directors and the principal
ministers. The plot was organised in three weeks. Its execution
on the 18th of Brumaire was accomplished with the greatest ease.
All parties experienced the greatest delight at being rid
of the sinister gangs who had so long oppressed and exploited the
country. The French were doubtless about to enter upon a
despotic system of government, but it could not be so intolerable
as that which had been endured for so many years.
The history of the coup d'État of Brumaire
justifies all that we have already said of the impossibility of
forming exact judgments of events which apparently are fully
understood and attested by no matter how many witnesses.
We know what ideas people had thirty years ago concerning
the coup of Brumaire. It was regarded as a crime
committed by the ambition of a man who was supported by his army.
As a matter of fact the army played no part whatever in the
affair. The little body of men who expelled the few recalcitrant
deputies were not soldiers even, but the gendarmes of the
Assembly itself. The true author of the coup
d'État
was the Government itself, with the complicity of all France.
4. Causes of the Duration of the Revolution.
If we limit the Revolution to the time necessary for the
conquest of its fundamental principles—equality before the law,
free access to public functions, popular sovereignty, control of
expenditures, &c.—we may say that it lasted only a few months.
Towards the middle of 1789 all this was accomplished, and during
the years that followed nothing was added to it, yet the
Revolution lasted much longer.
Confining the duration to the dates admitted by the
official historians, we see it persisting until the advent of
Bonaparte, a space of some ten years.
Why did this period of disorganisation and violence follow
the establishment of the new principles? We need not seek the
cause in the foreign war, which might on several occasions have
been terminated, thanks to the divisions of the allies and the
constant victories of the French; neither must we look for it in
the sympathy of Frenchmen for the revolutionary Government.
Never was rule more cordially hated and despised than that of the
Assemblies. By its revolts as well as by its repeated votes a
great part of the nation displayed the horror with which it
regarded the system.
This last point, the aversion of France for the
revolutionary régime, so long misunderstood, has
been well displayed by recent historians. The author of the last
book published on the Revolution, M. Madelin, has well summarised
their opinion in the following words:—
“As early as 1793 a party by no means numerous had
seized upon France, the Revolution, and the Republic. Now,
three-quarters of France longed for the Revolution to be checked,
or rather delivered from its odious exploiters; but these held
the unhappy country by a thousand means. . . . As the Terror was
essential to them if they were to rule, they struck at whomsoever
seemed at any given moment to be opposed to the Terror, were they
the best servants of the Revolution.”
Up to the end of the Directory the government was
exercised by Jacobins, who merely desired to retain, along with
the supreme power, the riches they had accumulated by murder and
pillage, and were ready to surrender France to any one who would
guarantee them free possession of these. That they negotiated
the coup d'État of Brumaire with Napoleon was
simply to the fact that they had not been able to realise their
wishes with regard to Louis XVIII.
But how explain the fact that a Government so tyrannical
and so dishonoured was able to survive for so many years?
It was not merely because the revolutionary religion still
survived in men's minds, nor because it was forced on them by
means of persecution and bloodshed, but especially, as I have
already stated, on account of the great interest which a large
portion of the population had in maintaining it.
This point is fundamental. If the Revolution had remained
a theoretical religion, it would probably have been of short
duration. But the belief which had just been founded very
quickly emerged from the domain of pure theory.
The Revolution did not confine itself to despoiling the
monarchy, the nobility, and the clergy of their powers of
government. In throwing into the hands of the bourgeoisie
and the large numbers of peasantry the wealth and the employments
of the old privileged classes it had at the same stroke turned
them into obstinate supporters of the revolutionary system. All
those who had acquired the property of which the nobles and
clergy had been despoiled had obtained lands and
châteaux at low prices, and were terrified lest the
restoration of the monarchy should force them to make general
restitution.
It was largely for these reasons that a Government which,
at any normal period, would never have been endured, was able to
survive until a master should re-establish order, while promising
to maintain not only the moral but also the material conquests of
the Revolution. Bonaparte realised these anxieties, and was
promptly and enthusiastically welcomed. Material conquests which
were still contestable and theoretical principles which were
still fragile were by him incorporated in institutions and the
laws. It is an error to say that the Revolution terminated with
his advent. Far from destroying it, he ratified and consolidated
it.
