CHAPTER XXII
Scenes of the French Revolution
1
109.
The Old Régime
2
I took part in the opening of the Estates-General, and, in
spite of the pomp with which the royal power was still surrounded,
I there saw the passing away of the Old Régime.
The régime which preceded 1789 should, it seems to me, be
considered from a twofold aspect: the one, the general condition
of the country; and the other, the relations existing between
the government and the country. With regard to the former,
I firmly believe that, from the earliest days of the monarchy,
France had at no period been happier than she was then. . . .
If several wars, undertaken with little skill, and waged with
still less, had compromised the honor of her arms and the reputation
of her government; if they had even thrown her finances
into a somewhat alarming state of disorder, it is but fair to say
that the confusion resulting therefrom had merely affected
the fortunes of a few creditors, and had not tapped the sources
of public prosperity; on the contrary what is styled the public
administration had made constant progress. . . .
Roads had been opened connecting numerous points, and
had been greatly improved in all directions. It should not be
forgotten that these benefits are principally due to the reign
of Louis XV. Their most important result had been a progressive
improvement in the condition of agriculture.
The reign of Louis XVI had continued favoring this wise
policy, which had not been interrupted by the maritime war
undertaken on behalf of American independence. Many cottonmills
had sprung up, while considerable progress had been made
in the manufacture of printed cotton fabrics and of steel, and
in the preparing of skins. . . . Louis XVI also encouraged agriculture
by every means at his command. The importation
of merino sheep, that precious breed which has done so much
to bring wealth to the farmer and to the manufacturer of woolens,
must be placed to his credit. He had established model farms,
thus placing at the disposal of agriculturists the resources of
theory and facilities for their application. Large edifices were
being erected in Paris, while considerable building was taking
place in the villages. Foreigners flocked to the capital, where
reigned a display of elegance which has never been surpassed.
What was at that time the form of government in France?
It was no longer that of the ancient feudal monarchy, under
which the throne, surrounded by its vassals, kept the nation
at a great distance from its steps; under which the power emanating
from this throne impressed the people with a respect
that verged on superstition; under which the sovereign might
at times be exposed to the acts of rebellion of some of the more
turbulent among these high vassals . . . but under which they
ever ended with some treaty benefiting those who had shown
themselves the most to be feared, the cost of such treaty coming
as a matter of course out of the pockets of the nation and of
the country. Richelieu, and after him, Louis XIV, had broken
down these feudal potentates. The structure, of which they
were the component parts, and which they helped to support,
had been supplemented by a monarchy all for show, if one may
employ such an expression, wherein the king alone had remained
great and the cynosure of all eyes. Louis XIV, by fashioning
it to his measure, had imparted to it something of his imposing
air. . . .
The royal power, under the Regency, under Louis XV, and
under Louis XVI, passed through many weak or incapable hands.
It was, moreover, subjected to so many intrigues of the court
and even of the boudoir, that, as a result, there was a considerable
diminution of its prestige. . . .
The government was neither a hard nor a vexatious one.
All things connected with it, which were not de jure tempered
by the laws, were so de facto by the usages and customs of the
day. The right of property was respected; for the immense
majority of Frenchmen there was almost complete individual
liberty. Still, this liberty was not inviolate, since, in spite of
repeated protests from the parlement,1 the power of arrest, imprisonment,
and exile was exercised by means of lettres de cachet.
It must be acknowledged that, with the exception of a few
persons whose actions caused the government particular irritation,
the rest of the citizens practically enjoyed the most complete
liberty. One was free to speak, to write, to act with the
greatest independence, and one could even defy the authorities
in perfect security. Though the press was not legally free,
yet anything and everything was printed and hawked about with
audacity.2 The most sedate personages, the magistrates themselves,
who ought to have curbed this licentiousness, actually
encouraged it. Writings the most dangerous, and the most
fatal to authority, were to be found in their possession. If,
from time to time, some of the most zealous and conscientious of
them denounced any flagrant case in the halls of the parlement,
their action was almost treated as ridiculous, and usually led to
no result. Those who will not grant that this was liberty, must
perforce admit that it was license.
There still remained certain pecuniary manorial rights; but
they constituted a form of property as good as any other, and
which could be held by a commoner as well as by one of noble
birth. The power of the seigneurs over the bodies of their
vassals no longer had any existence except in fiction; about all
that was left to the seigneurs of the old feudal power was the
shadowy obligation to protect these same vassals.
At the time of his accession, Louis XVI completely did away
with anything that might still be found oppressive in the exercise
of this power. Hence there was between the nobility and
the other citizens, just as there was between those citizens and
the clergy, but one question in dispute, that of pecuniary
privileges. . . .
The influence of the clergy did not make itself felt any more
heavily on the individual than did that of the nobility. The
concessions just granted to Protestants, in the matter of their
civil status, had met with no obstruction on the part of the ecclesiastical
power. Nothing could illustrate better how tolerant
it had become. The higher clergy became reconciled to the
views known as the Light of the century. With regard to the
curés, who came into actual contact with the people, they merely
extended their paternal care of their flocks, which also absorbed
the better part of their income.
Whence came then that passion for reform, that desire to
change everything which made itself manifest at the close of
the eighteenth century? It was due rather to a great stirring
up of ideas than to actual sufferings. So much had been written
about these ideas, they had been so greatly discussed, that
doubt had been cast upon all things. The sovereign authority
had been in a more particular manner broken in upon, and the
court of Louis XVI had not known how to restore the waning
prestige of royal majesty, even in the matter of that exterior
glamor which oftentimes suffices to insure the obedience of
the masses.
The court, sceptical and corrupt, was composed of the descendants
of the most noble families of France, but also, on
the other hand, of upstarts, in whose case royal favor had stood
in lieu of services. The arrogance of their pretensions was in
inverse ratio to their merit, and their insolent haughtiness had
rendered them odious. . . .
The irreligious, critical, and philosophical spirit, the inexplicable
craze for all sorts of utopian chimeras, the lowering of
the moral standard, especially the loss of respect for institutions
consecrated by time, and for old family traditions, all fostered
the development of the passions which were soon and forever
to sweep away the old French society, the Old Régime.
1 , translated by
C. E. Roche. 3 vols. New York, 1893. Charles Scribner’s Sons.
2 Pasquier, , vol. i, pp. 44–52.
1 The parlement of Paris was the royal court of justice.
2 Arthur Young also refers to the extreme liberty, or rather license, of the French
press in pre-Revolutionary days. See page 215.