Foreword: Play Therapy Through the Lens of the Polyvagal Theory
As the originator of the Polyvagal theory, I am pleased to write the foreword for Polyvagal Power in the Playroom. In this edited volume, Paris Goodyear-Brown and Lorri Yasenik have brought together experts in the emerging field of play therapy to create a comprehensive volume documenting how the principles of Polyvagal theory can be integrated into play therapy. The book provides a platform to observe, through the therapists’ own voices, how the lens of the Polyvagal theory has transformed how they conduct their therapy and especially how they deal with traumatized children who present profound state regulation difficulties and hypersensitivities. As I read the chapters, I was impressed with the passion, compassion, and persistence of these brilliant and intuitive play therapists as they expand the impact of the theory through their work.
It is not a surprise to me that play therapists are interested in Polyvagal theory. In many of my talks, I emphasize that play is a “neural exercise” that enables the co-regulation of the physiological state to promote neurophysiological states that support mental and physical health. Put more succinctly, when play is appropriately structured and implemented, play is therapy. Play, similar to other “movement” therapies such as dance, yoga, and even martial arts, involves a dyadic interaction requiring reciprocity that (in Polyvagal terms) supports co-regulation. This volume confirms this view, illustrates how the core principles of Polyvagal theory fit well with the practices of play therapy, and convincingly documents that play provides a natural platform for Polyvagal-informed therapy. Polyvagal theory provides a neuroscience language to explain what play therapists have observed and intuitively understood. This language, including concepts such as autonomic state, co-regulation, and neuroception, is frequently used in this volume to provide a neurobiological explanation for the behavioral and psychological phenomena observed during play therapy.
We often think of play as an amusement or a diversion from the “real” work in our lives. When we observe children playing, we might judge the time engaged in play as a distraction from opportunities to learn. This view, denigrating play and revering classroom learning opportunities, is consistent with our cultural view of education. Educational systems attempt to maximize opportunities for classroom instruction and to minimize opportunities for social interactions available during recess and other interactive forums requiring co-regulation such as team sports, music, and theater. From an educator’s perspective, play is the antithesis of learning; play steals the precious time that could be dedicated to learning. Similarly, within work environments, management often frowns when workers play and enjoy social interactions.
This perspective is based on assumptions derived from learning theories that were outlined by behaviorists about 100 years ago. What if this perspective, prevalent in our society, is outdated? Is misinformed? What if play, rather than displacing learning experiences, actually provides a neural exercise that would facilitate learning and enhance both mental and physical health?
Is our conceptualization of play inadequate? Are our views of play restricted interpretations dependent on a limited understanding of learning embedded in our educational institutions, parenting styles, expectations of socialization, and mental health treatment models? Can we take a different perspective and emphasize that play provides opportunities to exercise features of our nervous system that would foster learning, social behavior, and mental health? If play were perceived from this perspective, then play, as a neural exercise, might foster state regulation, enabling individuals to transition efficiently from active to calm states. Consistent with this perspective, the ability to move rapidly into a calm state would facilitate efficient learning and optimize spontaneous and reciprocal social behavior. The importance of play is dismissed in the cognitive-centric world of education. Within theoretical models of learning, little importance is placed on how bodily feelings, as an intervening variable, influence the ability to learn. Although we may want to sit and attend, at times our body may want to run, fight, or hide. Calmly sitting enables us to attend and to efficiently learn. However, when our body wants to run, fight, and hide, we are in a physiological state that supports defense. During these physiological states, neural feedback from our body to the higher brain structures will interfere with cognition and learning. Missing from the cognitive-centric perspective is the role that play may have in strengthening these neural circuits that can rapidly down-regulate defense systems to foster learning and sociality by enabling us to sit calmly and attend.
The roots of play and play-related therapies are linked to the evolution of a neural mechanism that enables mammals to shift between mobilized fight/ flight and calm, socially engaging states. From an evolutionary perspective, mammals had to rapidly detect whether a conspecific was safe or dangerous. If the interaction was dangerous, they needed to be in a physiological state that would produce sufficient energy to defend (fight) or facilitate an instantaneous escape (flight). If the interaction had cues of safety, then the physical distance could be reduced, and physical contact might ensue to foster parenting and development of trusting relationships.
To mate or to be in close contact with a conspecific, defense reactions have to be inhibited before cues of aggression or fear are expressed. An immediate decision has to be made to distinguish potential mate from potent threat. This process was so important to survival of both the individual and the species that the neural mechanisms were subjugated to brain processes outside the realm of conscious awareness.
Within the context of the Polyvagal theory, the instantaneous process of evaluating risk outside the realm of awareness is called neuroception. This concept is used in several of the chapters. Neuroception is the neural process through which our body reacts to features in the environment and shifts physiological states to deal with potential risk. Neuroception is not perception, because the process does not require awareness. If the cues trigger a neuroception of safety, our physiological state calms immediately, then we can easily socially engage or attend. If the cues trigger a neuroception of danger, our body prepares for movement. If the cues trigger life threat, then we lose social contact and immobilize. Although we are not aware of the stimuli that trigger our sense of danger or safety, we can become aware of our bodily responses via interoception triggered by neuroception. Thus, the cues from our body influence our personal comfort, which will vary as contexts and interactions with people change. Play therapy by providing opportunities to harness the power of neuroception of safety to down regulate feelings of threat functions as a neural exercise promoting resilience and enhanced biobehavior regulation.
Play and Co-regulation: Insights from Polyvagal Theory
Principles of establishing relationships are similar to play and include the following:
• Reciprocity
• Movement and inhibition of movement
• Face-to-face interactions and/or prosodic vocalizations to dampen potential defensive reactions to movements, proximity, and touch
In Polyvagal terms, reciprocity is observed as co-regulation. In play we see this as turn taking, and in good relationships, we see it as listening to and witnessing the other and when appropriate engaging with words and behaviors. In fact, we can map the behaviors of dyads and evaluate contingent behaviors and appropriate role reversals as markers of co-regulation. It is this capacity to co-regulate that can reframe sociality as a neuromodulator with the capacity to calm another’s nervous system (see Porges, 2021, 2022; Rajabalee et al., 2022).
From the perspective of the Polyvagal theory, play can be seen functionally as a neural exercise in which cues of safety and danger are alternately expressed and explored (Porges, 2021, 2022). The ability to safely transition through “dangerous” states of disconnection—breaks in flowing emotional containment—is crucial to the development and internalization of a child’s robust sense of self (Hughes, 2004; Schore, 1994). During play risks are taken, dangers are survived, and connections are repaired through co-regulation. As an example, we can think of the simple game, peek-a-boo, that a mother may play with her infant. By hiding her face and removing the cues of safety normally generated by the social engagement system (prosodic voice, facial expressions), the mother is creating a state of uncertainty in the infant. This state of uncertainty is followed by the mother startling the infant by showing her face and saying, “Peek-a-boo!” The sequence of the peek-a-boo game is ended when the mother uses a prosodic voice with warm facial expressions to calm the startled infant (e.g., Kolacz et al., 2022).
Deconstructing the behavioral sequence involved in “peek-a-boo,” we see the neural exercise embedded in this play behavior. “Peek-a-boo” may be a model for how aspects of play therapy may work. First, the initial hiding of the mother’s face elicits a state of uncertainty and vigilance. This state is associated with a depression of the infant’s social engagement system, including a withdrawal of the myelinated vagal pathways to the heart. This puts the infant in a vulnerable state in which a “startle” stimulus could easily recruit sympathetic activity to support mobilization (i.e., fight/flight behaviors). The mother provides the startle stimulus by showing her face and stating “boo” in a relatively loud and monotonic voice. The acoustic features of the mother’s vocalizations support the unpredictable presentation of the mother’s face, since the vocalizations of “boo” have acoustic features that are associated with danger and lack the prosodic features that would be calming. The cues of this sequence trigger a detection of danger, which recruits increased sympathetic activation. The next step in the sequence of this game provides the opportunity for a neural exercise that will promote resilience and enhance the infant’s ability to calm.
After the infant is motorically and autonomically activated by the “boo,” the mother calms the infant with her social engagement system using a prosodic voice with warm facial expressions, which trigger a neuroception (detection) of safety. The infant calms as the social engagement system comes back online and the myelinated vagal pathways down-regulate the sympathetic activity. When effectively implemented, “peek-a-boo” provides opportunities for the infant to “neurally navigate” through a sequence of states (i.e., from calm, to vigilant, to startled, and back to calm). Repeating this game provides opportunities for the social engagement system to efficiently down-regulate sympathetic activation via social interactions. The child will need this “neural” skill to adapt throughout every aspect of life.
Kittens playing provide a relevant example. Visualize kittens in bouts of roughand-tumble play. They are using their claws and teeth, but they rarely injure each other. In fact, if you have a kitten, you may be surprised that they know when to retract their claws and relax their jaws once they make a gentle bite. However, an extremely important feature often goes unnoticed. The kittens maintain face-to-face interactions during most of the play. If a bite hurts, there is an immediate face-to-face interaction of their social engagement systems, and they cue each other that there was no intention to injure. But kittens, like children, vary in their ability to be aware of each other in a play scenario. If awareness of the other is poor, then injury may occur. In primate social groups, the juveniles who enthusiastically engage but, due to a lack of awareness of others, may injure peers are ostracized and marginalized from social groups.
We can observe similar situations on the playground. For example, when playing basketball, players are often shoved and fall. If the social engagement system is employed following this event, aggressive behaviors will be dampened. For example, aggression is defused if the person who did the shoving makes eye contact with the person on the floor, helps the other person off the floor, and asks whether the person is okay. However, a fight might be triggered if the person who did the shoving just walks away.
By deconstructing the play of other social mammals, whether we are observing kittens, dogs, or children on the playground, we see a common feature of behaviors that simulate features of fight/flight that are actively inhibited by social engagement behaviors (e.g., facial expressions, head gestures, prosodic vocalizations). We can see that play transitions into aggressive behaviors if the social engagement systems are not employed to down-regulate any potential neuroception of danger.
The process of play is about active inhibition of the neural circuit that promotes fight/flight behaviors. Play functions as a neural exercise that improves
the efficiency of the neural circuit that can instantaneously down-regulate fight-flight behaviors. If we translate this into the classroom or clinic, we can identify children with difficulties in down-regulating the neural circuits that promote fight/flight behaviors. These children have difficulties in sitting, in attending, in listening, and in socializing. If we watch these children on the playground, we might see deficits in their ability to play with others. They may not accurately anticipate the behaviors of others and, instead of a reciprocal interaction that inhibits fight/flight behaviors, they may functionally be physically bouncing off their peers with dire consequences in their abilities to develop trusting relationships.
The Polyvagal theory explores why this might be the case. In the process of risk detection, external cues are not the only source of information. Afferent feedback from the viscera provides a major mediator of the accessibility of prosocial circuits associated with social engagement behaviors. Polyvagal theory predicts that states of mobilization compromise the ability to detect positive social cues. Functionally, visceral states distort or color our perception of other people. Thus, the features of a person engaging another may result in a range of outcomes, depending on the physiological state of the target individual. If the person being engaged is in a state in which the social engagement system is easily accessible, a reciprocal prosocial interaction is likely to occur with the calming benefits of co-regulation. However, if the individual is in a state of mobilization, the same engaging response might be responded to with asocial features of withdrawal or aggression.
A Polyvagal-informed definition of play, similar to other forms of coregulation, requires reciprocal and synchronous interactions between mammals while using the social engagement system as a regulator of mobilization behavior (e.g., fight/flight). This definition of “play” may differ from the use of the term to describe interactions between an individual and a toy or computer. Play with a toy or computer lacks face-to-face interaction and will not exercise the social engagement system as a regulator of the neural circuits that foster fight/flight behaviors. Thus, as mammals, we need to respect our phylogenetic heritage and appreciate the importance of synchronous faceto-face interactions as an opportunity to exercise our social engagement systems. As the neural regulation of our social engagement system improves, we gain resilience in dealing with disruptions in our lives.
Many of the features of play are shared with psychotherapy. A deconstruction of a therapeutic session will find the client (and often the therapist) shifting states from calm to defense and back to calm. Fortunately, we as mammals have a social engagement system that evolved to employ cues from
face-to-face interactions to efficiently calm our physiological state and shift our fight/flight behaviors to trusting relationships.
Conclusion
By deconstructing the play of mammals, whether we are observing kittens, dogs, or children on the playground, we see a common dynamic in social behavior—features of fight/flight are continually stimulated and actively inhibited by social engagement behaviors (e.g., facial expressions, gestures, prosodic vocalizations). Play is a natural and powerful therapeutic tool. From the polyvagal perspective, play can be conceptualized as an efficient “neural exercise” that uses social engagement to actively inhibit fight/flight behaviors. A sensitive adult can attune herself to a way of communicating that recruits a child’s social engagement system and down-regulates defense. As illustrated in this volume, therapists who work actively through playful modes consciously leverage this process. It is crucial that the therapist engenders a feeling of safety for the child via sensitive attunement. The experience of safety increases the frequency of spontaneous reciprocal interactions. It is through these interactions that there is a resetting of the neuroceptive threshold, from a defensive baseline to a robust sense of safety.
As described by the authors, children frequently referred for play therapy are in neurophysiological states that support mobilization, withdrawal, and shutdown. In these states, cognitive processes are greatly compromised, and there is a loss in the awareness of the emotional states of others. Polyvagal theory informs clinical practice that there is a neural circuit that can rapidly down-regulate mobilization behaviors to foster the calm states that optimize social behavior. Although play is frequently characterized by movement and often recruits many of the neural circuits involved in fight/flight behaviors, it may be operationally distinguished from defense, since during play mobilization maintains access to the calming social engagement system, which easily can be recruited to promote calmness. However, the effectiveness and efficiency of the social engagement system to down-regulate fight/flight behaviors require a type of learning through practices involving structured “neural exercise.”
Opportunities to gain competence via neural exercise usually start early in a child’s development through play. However, trauma may disrupt the child’s ability to feel safe and to exhibit spontaneous social engagement behaviors. Given this situation, similar to the clinical examples provided in this volume, clinicians need to provide the child with unambiguous biological
signals of safety through intonation of voice, facial expressions, and gestures. Moreover, once these signals effectively trigger a spontaneous engagement by the child, the intuitive therapist must be ready to respond with reciprocity. Reciprocal exchange of cues of safety, between therapist and child, function as playful neural exercise of the social engagement system, the mechanism that shifts mobilization from defense to play and trust. The chapters describe individualized therapeutic strategies in which signals of safety foster co-regulation between therapist and client, enabling the client to experience the capacity to down-regulate threat reactions and shift autonomic state from being locked in a state of defense to enable spontaneous social engagement with others. From a Polyvagal perspective, this is the central objective of therapy.
Stephen W. Porges, PhD Distinguished University Scientist Founding Director, Traumatic Stress Research Consortium Kinsey Institute, Indiana University Bloomington Professor of Psychiatry
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
References
Hughes, D. (2004). An attachment-based treatment of maltreated children and young people. Attachment and Human Development, 6(3), 263–278.
Kolacz, J., daSilva, E. B., Lewis, G. D., Bertenthal, B. I., & Porges, S. W. (2022). Associations between acoustic features of maternal speech and infants’ emotion regulation following a social stressor. Infancy, 27(1), 135–158. https://doi. org/10.1111/infa.12440
Porges, S. W. (2021). Polyvagal theory: A biobehavioral journey to sociality. Comprehensive Psychoneuroendocrinology, 7, 100069. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. cpnec.2021.100069
Porges, S. W. (2022). Polyvagal theory: A science of safety. Frontiers in Integrative Neuroscience, 16, 27. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnint.2022.871227
Rajabalee, N., Kozlowska, K., Lee, S. Y., Savage, B., Hawkes, C., Siciliano, D., Porges, S. W., Pick, S., & Torbey, S. (2022). Neuromodulation using computer-altered music to treat a ten-year-old child unresponsive to standard interventions for functional neurological disorder. Harvard Review of Psychiatry, 10–1097.
Schore, A. N. (1994). Affect regulation and the origin of the self. Lawrence Erlbaum.
How the Science of Relationships Impacts Our Thinking About Development
Interruptions, Happenings, and Expressions of Risk or Resilience
Marilyn R. Sanders
Overview
Everyone has a story. And for many of us, it is a birth story. Under ideal circumstances, parents and their babies spend the initial minutes, days, and weeks in each other’s loving care, choreographing the dance most parents and their healthy babies do. The relational connection between mother and newborn creates dependability, predictability, consistency, and safety for the developing baby and infant that is vital to survival. All too often, however, sometimes even before the relationship begins to flourish, there are interruptions in this connectedness because “things happen,” and the responses to these events are expressions of resilience or risk. Mammals cared for and nourished who lack a primary attachment figure die or survive with serious social-emotional disturbance (Fraiberg et al., 2003). We now understand that secure attachments are not “just nice”; they are essential to healthy development.
In this chapter, I will lay the foundation for understanding the science of relationships beginning in pregnancy and continuing through early childhood. However, relationships are imperfect, and there are always disruptions in even the most solid relationships. As Tronick reminded us, it is not the disruption but the repair that determines how dyads move forward in their increasingly complex work. An important component of the “repair” becomes the meaning the parent-baby dyad make of their own connection (Tronick & Cohn, 1989).
The Privileged Relationship of the Pregnant Woman and Her Fetus
At no other time in our lives will our bodies tolerate “foreign” protein without developing antibodies or absolute immunological rejection. Yet, in a healthy pregnancy, the fetus coexists within the maternal uterus in dual physiology (Weinstein, 2016). Indeed, for the healthy fetus and mother, it meets both their evolutionary expectations. The uterine wall and amniotic fluid provide safe containment. The placenta provides nourishment and temperature control. And there is a pregnancy pause in immunologic responsiveness that nurtures and protects the fetus. The placenta also protects the fetus from stress by producing an enzyme, 11 β hydroxysteroid dehydrogenase, that converts the stress hormone cortisol to an inactive form, cortisone, through most of the pregnancy (Sandman et al., 2011). As fetuses begin moving and “quickening” occurs, parents construct mental representations of their fetuses based upon ultrasound images (Ammaniti & Gallese, 2014).
Finding Safety Moving from the Womb to the World: Polyvagal Theory Provides “an Explanation”
The uterus is the econiche for the healthy fetus. At birth, most babies go from the womb to the mother’s chest, where they will continue to find temperature control, nourishment, and co-regulation. This is the beginning of the “sacred hour” when the mother, the non-birthing partner, and the baby begin to choreograph another dance: that of an emerging family (Phillips, 2013).
As thought leaders like Jinpa and neuroscientists including Stephen Porges detail, social engagement leading to social connectedness assures young mammals survive and thrive. Polyvagal theory, developed by Stephen Porges, anchors the survival of young mammals in the biological imperative to seek safety (Porges, 2011). This theory, based upon the evolutionary neurobiology of threat detection, describes vertebrate responses to danger as a hierarchy of response beginning in the earliest terrestrial vertebrates. Polyvagal theory details an integrated autonomic, automatic, or unconscious nervous system consisting of two divisions—the parasympathetic nervous system and the sympathetic nervous system. The parasympathetic nervous system consists of the neurons of the 10th cranial or vagus nerve. It is termed the vagus or “wandering” nerve because its branches reach out from the brain to the heart and the most distant body parts. Among the most important functions of the
vagus nerve above the diaphragm is control of the electrical activity of the heart. Were it not for the vagus, the heart would beat very quickly, allowing little time for filling the lower chambers. The vagus thus acts as a brake on the heart’s intrinsic electrical activity, controlling the heart rate to optimize the heart’s work, sending oxygenated blood to the body. When the vagal brake is lifted, the heart rate increases. For example, when we have a meal, the heart rate increases to supply more energy to metabolize the food we ingested. And when the vagal brake is applied, the heart rate slows, allowing us to rest and digest (Porges, 2011).
The sympathetic nervous system responds to stress and releases the hormone(s) epinephrine or adrenaline and cortisol. Under the influence of epinephrine and cortisol, the heart works harder; blood flow is sent to vital organs; the airways open up to allow more oxygen to get into the lungs; and the liver converts stored starch to glucose that is released for energy. Non-vital functions such as digestion slow down. Both the parasympathetic and sympathetic components, working in tandem, are vital to mammalian health and wellbeing.
The limbic system, a primitive part of the midbrain, consists of the amygdala—the central alarm system, the hippocampus—the seat of memory, the thalamus—the receiver of sensory information from the body, and the hypothalamus—the origin of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis that eventually produces cortisol. The limbic system is constantly scanning the environment for signs of danger. Vertebrates exhibit behavioral responses based upon their unconscious sense of whether they are safe, in danger, or in a life threat environment, termed neuroception. Neuroception, below conscious awareness, derives from sensations of the external and relational environments as well as the interoceptions, or internal sensory responses created by the environment outside the body (Porges, 2014).
For example, if you are walking to your car after dark, you will likely be watching carefully as you leave the building. Your pupils will dilate to allow for a large field of vision. Your muscles may feel tense, and you may have your hand on your keys as you move farther from the building, an experience of lack of relational environment as no one is accompanying you to mitigate your uneasiness. Your interoceptive sensory input is the feeling in your body of tense muscles and perhaps some anxiety. Now, if you see someone approaching in the distance, your tension and anxiety may increase. However, when the person in the distance gets close enough to greet you warmly, and you realize it is an office colleague, your body relaxes; the tension leaves, and you return their warm greeting. In just moments your neuroception has
transformed from one of danger to safety based upon clues from the environments both outside and inside your body.
Vertebrates, or animals with a spine, are always unconsciously surveying the environment for signs of danger. Primitive vertebrates such as lizards and reptiles have only one possible response to danger—to blend in or camouflage, hoping that the predator will simply leave. This response is driven by the neurons of the dorsal vagal complex located toward the back of the brainstem. As vertebrates continued to evolve, however, the sympathetic nervous system came on-line. So later vertebrates, such as fish, have the capacity to stay and fight or flee. Colloquially, this is referred to as the “fight or flight” reaction. However, only in mammals is this threat system repurposed to promote social engagement. Thus, mammals use the social engagement system when they feel “in danger.” The origin of the social engagement system is located farther forward in the brain stem in the ventral vagal complex. When mammals feel in danger, they use their social engagement system to return to safety. Only when their social engagement system fails them do they become sympathetically activated or, in a life threat situation, immobilize or collapse (Porges & Furman, 2011).
The Work of Infancy Is Establishing Social Engagement and Connectedness with Caregivers
Mammals are vertebrates that nurse their young. From an evolutionary perspective, young mammals expect to go from the mother’s womb to the mother’s body after birth. Mammals’ evolutionary expectations of their caregivers include their social and emotional proximity, their sensitivity and attunement, their contingent responsiveness, and their social engagement and social connectedness. Social connectedness as defined by Porges is the ability to mutually (synchronously and reciprocally) regulate physiological and behavioral states (Porges, 2019).
When the human newborn transitions from the womb to the mother’s body and is skin-to-skin on her chest/at her breast, the process of social engagement leading to social connectedness begins. In a well-choreographed and reproducible series of movements, a healthy newborn will move to the mother’s breast and latch onto her nipple. The mother’s body regulates the newborn’s temperature, and her breast provides breast milk at body temperature. Babies who rest with their mothers during the first hour after birth or “sacred hour” have increased physiologic stability, increased breastfeeding rates, and longer duration of breastfeeding. In addition, this vital time after birth promotes optimal brain development, promotes maternal attachment
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royalists, they were able to carry a resolution rendering members of the existing legislature ineligible for election to the next, and thus driving their most active opponents, for a time at any rate, out of power. The revision of the Constitution told slightly against them, but it came to very little, and all its worst faults were retained. When the Constituent Assembly separated at the end of September, Robespierre and Pétion, not Lafayette or Barnave, were its heroes with the populace of Paris. And in the months which followed, the power of their party increased. In spite of the motion which the majority of the Assembly had passed just before its dissolution, forbidding the affiliation of popular clubs and their interference in the general election, the Jacobin clubs rapidly multiplied, and threw all their energies into the electoral contest. The abolition of the property qualification for deputies had already been secured by the persistence of Robespierre. The retirement of Lafayette from the chief command of the National Guard, and the abolition of that post as a permanent office, considerably weakened the Constitutional party. The growing sense of weariness with politics, and the desire to rest from agitation felt by the bulk of the people, began to show itself more distinctly. The renewal of the whole of the legislature and of one-half of all the local officials, afforded an opportunity for many moderate and experienced men to retire, and for more pushing and ambitious politicians to fill their places. The number of elections, and the fact that they were held so near together, prevented many voters from recording their votes. The necessity of taking the oath to observe the new ecclesiastical system disfranchised a large number of scrupulous Catholics. The intimidation practised by the Jacobins against all reactionary voters, of which there are clear examples but the effects of which it is difficult to estimate, must have kept many quiet people away. All over France the proportion of voters who came forward to vote was very small. The result showed, in the new Assembly, a considerable increase in the advanced party, and many new-comers who hurried at once to join the Jacobin Club. But it showed also that the majority of voters loyally adhered to the new Constitution, were fully prepared to give it a trial, and were well represented even in Paris itself.
Unhappily, however, for France, the majority never found the time to rally. From the end of 1791, the shadow of war began to darken the political horizon. At the critical moment, when the nation had to choose between the majority, which wished to consolidate the new system, and the minority, which wanted to destroy it for something else, the alarm of invasion redoubled the panic and disorder, paralysed any possible reaction, and threw Frenchmen off their balance again. The war with Europe meant a struggle both for freedom and for national existence. In the tumult of that struggle all other considerations were flung to the winds. And the men who could best save the Revolution and maintain the honour of the country became the heroes and the tyrants of France.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] The 144 representatives of the Sections formed the General Council of the Commune; 48 of these formed the municipal body; and 16 of these were the actual Administrators, distributed among five departments, of 'subsistence,' 'police,' 'finance,' 'public establishments,' and 'public works ' See Mortimer-Ternaux's Histoire de la Terreur, vol i Appendix III, where the whole subject is thoroughly discussed
CHAPTER
VII. T I W R .
I is a mistake to imagine that the European Powers attacked the Revolution in France. It was the Revolution which attacked them. The diplomatists of the eighteenth century viewed at first with cynical indifference the meeting of the States-General at Versailles. They were naturally blind to its significance. It did not occur to them, until some years had passed, that the outbreak in France was anything more than a temporary political disturbance, which by weakening a redoubtable rival, would redound to the advantage of the other
Powers. The new cosmopolitan spirit, the new idea of enthusiasm for humanity, which, together with the influence of Rousseau, were beginning to be deeply felt in Europe, did not affect the diplomatic mind. Many a sharp lesson was needed to convince the cabinets of Europe that events in France were not the result of any ordinary political commotion, but part of a movement as far-reaching as it was profound, abstract in its aims and maxims, universal in its scope, irresistible in its advance, and inspired by the propagandist enthusiasm which in earlier ages had produced the great Crusades and the religious wars.
Accordingly, the attitude of the European Powers was at first one of complacent egotism. They viewed the disorders in France with the suave but moderate concern which nations, if not men, display towards the misfortunes of their friends. Moreover, in 1789, most of the Powers were occupied with matters of far greater urgency at home. On the throne of Russia sat the most brilliant sovereign of the age, the sovereign to whom Diderot attributed the 'soul of Brutus' and 'the form of Cleopatra,' steeped in all the vices with which the imagination of her enemies credited Theodora, excelling in all the accomplishments with which the enthusiasm of her subjects clothed Elizabeth, unsurpassed in ambition and ability, equally unwearied in war and diplomacy, in literature and love, a singularly sagacious ruler, an extraordinary woman and a most successful queen. By the side of Catherine there reigned in the North another able and attractive prince, Gustavus III of Sweden, who combined with restless vanity and philosophic maxims a real capacity for government and the spirit of 'a Saladin in quest of a crusade.' In Austria, the Emperor Joseph, the madcap crowned philosopher of Europe, had thrown his dominions into confusion by his reforms, and threatened to convulse the East with his ambition. In Prussia, Frederick William II, with his fine aspirations and his fantastic failings, permitted favourites and charlatans to help him in maintaining the great traditions of his predecessor. In Spain, the declining Bourbon dynasty vainly looked to France to save it from losing its once proud position in the world. In England, Pitt, at the height of his power, was ready to offer France an alliance which she was too suspicious to accept from Chatham's son, and while
anxiously watching the troubles in Turkey, and successfully asserting his influence in Holland, fixed his hopes on the wide humanitarian projects which he saw opening out before him, to which his genius and his inclination called him, and which he hoped to consummate in peace.
The two points which occupied the attention of Europe in 1789 were the condition of Poland and the troubles in the East. The ambitious designs of Catherine and the assistance lent to them by Joseph threatened the existence of the Turkish Empire, irritated the Prussian Court, and awakened English apprehensions, always sensitive about the safety of Stamboul. Poland, the battle-field of cynical diplomacy, torn by long dissensions and ruined by a miserable constitution, was vainly endeavouring, under the jealous eyes of her great neighbours, to avert the doom impending, and to reassert her ancient claim to a place among the nations of the world. But Russia had long since determined that Poland must be a vassal State to her or cease to be a State at all, while Prussia, driven to face a hard necessity, realised that a strong Poland and a strong Prussia could not exist together, and that if Poland ever rose again to power, Prussia must bid goodbye to unity and greatness. These two questions to the States involved seemed to be of far more moment than any political reform in France, and engrossed the diplomatists of Europe until the summer of 1791.
In February, 1790, a new influence was introduced into European politics by the death of the Emperor Joseph and the accession of his brother, Leopold II. Leopold was a man of remarkable ability, no enthusiast and no dreamer, thoroughly versed in the selfish traditions of Austrian policy and in some of the subtleties of Italian statecraft, discerning, temperate, resolute and clear-headed, quietly determined to have his own way, and generally skilful enough to secure it. Leopold found his new dominions in a state of the utmost confusion, with war and rebellion threatening him on every side. He speedily set about restoring order. He repealed the unpopular decrees of Joseph. He conciliated or repressed his discontented subjects. He gradually re-established the authority of the Crown. He had no sympathy with Joseph's Eastern schemes, and he dreaded the advance of Russia.
He was resolved that Prussia should no longer assume the right to intervene decisively in European politics, but should return to her old position as a dependent ally of Austria. He hoped by steady and persistent diplomacy to secure a reform of the Polish constitution, and to build up in Poland once again a State in close alliance with himself, strong enough to hold in check Russia and Prussia alike. He was not blind to the gravity of the events happening in France, and his sympathy for his sister's misfortunes was sincere. But he saw more clearly than most men the very great difficulties involved in any intervention in French affairs, and although he showed his feelings and was ready to discuss proposals for bringing the influence of the Powers to bear upon French politics, he was far from wishing to commit himself to any irremediable breach with France.
Accordingly, the first eighteen months of Leopold's reign were occupied with his own immediate interests, and at the end of that time his success was marked. Catherine's vast schemes in Turkey had been checked. War had been averted. Poland had been strengthened by internal changes. Prussia had been conciliated and out-manœuvred, and her influence had been impaired. At last, at the end of August, 1791, the Emperor was free to face the French problem, and he set out for the Castle of Pillnitz to meet the King of Prussia and the Emigrant leaders at the Saxon Elector's Court.
For some time past the restlessness of the French Emigrants had been causing great perplexity in Europe. Received with open arms by the ecclesiastical princes of the Rhine, by the Electors of Mayence and Trèves, they proceeded to agitate busily for their own restoration. They brought with them into banishment all the worst characteristics of their class They treated their hosts with cool impertinence, indulged in the most complacent forecasts, and exhibited that profound contempt for anything except their own advantage, which had made them so justly detested in France. In the view of the Emigrants their cause was the cause of feudal Europe. Just as the revolutionists regarded all nobles as enemies, so the Emigrants regarded all princes and aristocrats as companions in arms. Deeply and serenely selfish, they would hear of nothing but their own reinstatement in the full privileges of the Ancien Régime;
and all compromise with constitutional freedom, all moderation in counsel or in language, all respect for the wishes of the King was treated with disdain. Rarely has any class of men displayed in a more conspicuous manner its lack of patriotism, sagacity and temper, and its utter indifference to any interest but its own.
The object of the Emigrants was to bring pressure to bear at the European Courts, with the view of inducing the Powers to intervene actively in their behalf. The Comte d'Artois and his Prime Minister, Calonne, flitted from capital to capital, to plead the cause of the oppressed aristocracy of France. At Vienna they exposed themselves to unmistakable rebuffs, but in other quarters they met with kinder treatment. Prussia assured them of her sympathy, but regretted that she could take no action without the Emperor's concurrence. Sardinia and Spain were friendly, and talked frequently of war. Catherine of Russia, who cordially hated the doctrines of the Revolution, but who under-rated the importance of a movement which was too far off to touch her people, exchanged delightful compliments with the descendants of Henri Quatre, and protested her enthusiasm for their cause. But the prudent Empress showed no inclination to risk the life of a single Cossack in propping up the Bourbon throne. Gustavus of Sweden, appearing at Aix-la-Chapelle, enlisted with ardour in the Emigrants' service. He proposed to transport a joint army of Swedes and Russians to the coast of Normandy, and marching up the Seine to Paris, to assert the rights of kings. But when Gustavus applied to Catherine to assist him in carrying out his crusade, he discovered, to his bitter disappointment, that no assistance was to be obtained.
Nevertheless the lofty tone of the French princes did not alter After his escape from France, in June, 1790, the Comte de Provence established his Court at Coblentz, where he was joined by his brother the Comte d'Artois, and where, on the plea that Louis was a prisoner, he claimed the title of Regent, and assumed the authority of King. The Court of the two French princes at Coblentz represented faithfully the faults and follies of the Emigrant party. But a more satisfactory spectacle was offered by the camp at Worms, where Condé was bravely trying to organise an army to fight against the
Revolution in France. To Condé's standard flocked the more patriotic Emigrants, who disliked the idea of foreign intervention and hoped to recover their position for themselves. Condé had no difficulty in finding officers, but privates and troopers were more difficult to raise. Nevertheless he persevered in his enterprise, and gradually collected a considerable force[8] . In the winter of 1791-92, a plot for the capture of Strasbourg was discovered, which greatly alarmed the French Assembly. But the German Princes in the neighbourhood looked with disfavour on the Emigrant army It caused confusion in their dominions, and it drew down on them the hostility of the French Government. The Emperor joined them in protesting against it. In February, 1792, Condé's army was compelled to abandon its camp at Worms, and to retire further into Germany. The Emperor was well aware of the reckless selfishness of the Emigrant princes. He had as little sympathy with them as his sister. He did not intend to listen to their demands. If he interfered in France at all, it would only be in a cautious and tentative manner, and in order to save Marie Antoinette and her husband. Certainly he would not undertake a war for the restoration of the Ancien Régime. The real inclinations of Leopold, with which Marie Antoinette generally concurred, pointed towards the summoning of a European Conference, to bring pressure to bear on the French Government, to strengthen the hands of the moderate parties in Paris, and to prevent any outrage on the King and Queen. Accordingly, the interviews at Pillnitz came to nothing. The Emperor and the King of Prussia did indeed enter into a treaty, binding them in certain events to make war together upon France. But the conditions of that alliance, which involved the joint action of all the European Powers, and in particular the co-operation of England which was known to be opposed to any form of intervention, rendered the treaty an empty form. Leopold himself assured his Chancellor that the Conference of Pillnitz had bound him to nothing, and the whole proceeding has been rightly described as one of the 'august comedies' of history. As time went on, the Emperor's determination to avoid war deepened When, in September 1791, Louis accepted the new Constitution, Leopold took advantage of that event to make his position unmistakably clear. On
the 1st November, he addressed a circular letter to the Powers, pointing out to them that Louis' action rendered any further interference impossible, and in spite of the angry protests of the Emigrants, the danger of war seemed to have disappeared.
Such was the attitude of Europe when the Legislative Assembly met. Numerically, the majority of the new Assembly were favourable to the Constitution, and honestly wished to maintain the throne. Outside the House they were supported by Lafayette and Barnave, two strong, representative figures, although Lafayette could not be depended on to act consistently with any colleagues. But in the House they had no leaders of great influence, and no sense of party discipline. Their policy was negative and undecided, and they could not always be relied on to vote together. Opposite to them there sat, on the left of the Assembly, a body of deputies less strong in numbers, but far more able and united, full of eloquence and enthusiasm, eager, brilliant, reckless and impetuous, with a clear policy and bold, ambitious views. It consisted of men who despised the Constitution as an unsatisfactory makeshift, who had no reverence for the throne, who wished for no compromise with the old order, but who, conceiving themselves inspired with the spirit of the heroes of Greece and Rome, were resolved to sweep away kings and tyrants, to undertake a crusade in the name of liberty, and to establish triumphantly their republican ideal in France. To this body the Jacobin deputies attached themselves, because for the present their aims were the same. But the greater part of it was composed of men who, though in temporary alliance with the Jacobins and ardent recruits of the Jacobin Club, were soon destined to become their rivals, and who are distinguished as the Girondist party, because their chief leaders came from the department of the Gironde.
The Republican minority in the Legislative Assembly, supported by the Jacobins and directed by the Girondist leaders, easily outmanœuvred their Constitutional opponents. Their object was to discredit the Monarchy and so to prepare the way for a Republic. From the first, the Girondists were strong partisans of war, partly because their reckless patriotism wished to make all 'tyrants tremble on their thrones of clay,' but also because they had a just conviction
that a policy of war would play into their hands, would render the king's position desperate, and would promote confusion in which they would win. Vergniaud, Guadet, Gensonné and others clothed the Girondist sentiments in language which, if sometimes bombastic, was sometimes superb. A House full of inexperienced theorists, all impulsive and nearly all young, echoed the fine enthusiasm which the Girondist orators expressed. Brissot, a journalist of many strange experiences, but with a very shallow knowledge of affairs, took the lead of the advanced party, and guided their views upon diplomatic questions. Madame Roland appealed to their emotions with generous rhetoric and hospitality. Sieyès, moving mysteriously in the background, and pulling the strings of innumerable intrigues, drew up their plans and assisted at their counsels. Under these circumstances the Girondist minority, with its vigour, its ambition, and its somewhat unscrupulous designs, seized the control of events, and committed the halting, uncertain majority to measures from which they could not afterwards retreat.
The autumn and winter of 1791-92 were occupied by schemes and counter-schemes of every kind. The whole atmosphere was charged with intrigue. The records of each week were full of evidences of disorder, to which those in power seemed to pay little heed. The condition of Europe was already alarming, and the Girondists, in search of their 'second and greater Revolution,' resolved to turn it to account. The Assembly knew nothing of diplomacy, nothing of Leopold's peaceful views, nothing of the Queen's reluctance to face the risks of war They saw the sovereigns of Europe combining together. They saw the Emigrants gathering outside the frontier, and the majority of the old priesthood stirring up discontent within. They believed, or the Republicans among them believed, that the King was urging on the Powers to war, and that the Queen presided over a secret 'Austrian Committee,' which, meeting in the Tuileries, conspired against the liberties of France. Accordingly, they proceeded to denounce these dangers and to demand energetic measures against them. In October and November, decrees were passed, calling on Monsieur and the Emigrants to return, commanding the refractory priests to accept the Constitution, and imposing heavy penalties for disobedience. The decree directed
against his own brother Louis confirmed, but the other two decrees he vetoed; and of course the application of the veto still further increased his unpopularity in Paris.
As the winter went on, the gravity of the situation deepened. Bailly retired from the mayoralty of Paris, and Pétion, the nominee of the Republican party, was elected in his place over the head of Lafayette, by a large majority on a very small poll. Montmorin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, resigned, and was succeeded by De Lessart, a man of indifferent capacity, much under the influence of Barnave and the Lameths. Other ministerial changes followed. Bertrand de Molleville, a strong supporter of the Crown, was appointed Minister of Marine; and early in December, Narbonne, a brilliant young man of fashion and ability, lifted into power by the aid of Lafayette and by the intrigues of Madame de Staël, became for a short time Minister of War. But these changes did nothing to strengthen the Government. While De Lessart and the Lameths dreaded war, and hoped that the Powers would exert some pressure in favour of the moderate party in France, Narbonne threw himself heartily into the military preparations. He believed that war would strengthen the Crown, and he determined to make a bid for popular favour on the King's behalf by identifying Louis with the patriotic feeling. Meanwhile Lafayette, with characteristic indiscretion, blind to the warnings of the wiser Constitutional leaders, possessed by his favourite idea of carrying American freedom over Europe, and tempted perhaps by the great prospect which war would open to his own ambition, supported Narbonne in his warlike designs, and steadily encouraged the war-party in the Assembly.
To the surprise of the Girondists, the Jacobin leaders took a totally different line. Fearing that the declaration of war would increase the power of the Government and would strengthen the hands of the hated Lafayette, the Jacobins began to sever themselves from the Gironde, and to oppose the idea of a campaign. No doubt, their opposition was partly due to the fact that on principle many of them were averse to war, although in the days of the Jacobin triumph, this principle, like others, was to be cast to the winds. But in so far as their opposition was due to tactical and party reasons, it shows a
strange lack of political discernment, for of all parties then existing the Jacobins were the most certain to profit by the outbreak of hostilities. Brissot and the Girondists saw this clearly, and vainly endeavoured to convince their allies. From that time forward the rivalry between Robespierre and Brissot became bitter and acute. But the Jacobin politicians allowed their fear of the Executive to carry them away. Anything which made rulers powerful must, they thought, be dangerous to freedom. Danton, Robespierre, Marat and BillaudVarennes, all adopted the same language, and the Jacobin Club protested loudly against the demand for war
But the Girondists carried the day. Lafayette's manœuvres, their own enthusiasm, and the militant temper of the nation, all helped their designs. Narbonne's schemes indeed collapsed, and early in March, 1792, he was dismissed from a Ministry with most of which he disagreed. But the war-party revenged Narbonne's dismissal by driving his colleagues from office. Louis, yielding to the storm, and endeavouring once again, as he had sometimes endeavoured before, to identify himself with the Assembly, selected a new Ministry from the popular party. Roland was appointed Minister of the Interior, and Dumouriez took the portfolio of Foreign Affairs. Dumouriez, who owed his appointment to the Girondists, for whom, nevertheless, he had a rich contempt, was the only person of note in the Government, but he possessed ability enough to compensate for all the deficiencies of his colleagues. Lax in morality and principle, he was a man of infinite resource, bold, ambitious and consummately adroit. He welcomed the idea of a conflict with Austria. He hoped, as Narbonne had done, to secure the neutrality or alliance of England, and, if possible, the friendship of Prussia, but he was prepared to take the chances of a struggle with the rest of Europe. The appointment of the new Ministry gave the Girondists the command of the political situation, and from that moment France drifted rapidly into war.
Events abroad made a rupture easy. In spite of the provocations offered to him by the French Assembly, Leopold had clung steadily to peace. His sagacity saw that the one chance for the Monarchy in France lay in the desire of the Constitutional party to re-establish
order He was determined to strengthen their hands, if he could, and for that purpose to limit the interference of the Powers to joint diplomatic pressure in their behalf. But early in March, 1792, Leopold suddenly died. His heir Francis, unrestrained by his father's tact and moderation, assumed a different tone and showed less patience. The chances of any effective pressure from the Powers declined, as the prospect of war rose on the horizon. Francis' language was sufficiently sharp to give the Assembly the pretext which it longed for, and on the 20th April, Louis, amid general enthusiasm, came down to the Assembly and declared war against Austria. The effects of that momentous step no comment can exaggerate. It ruined the best hopes of the Revolution, and prepared the way for a military despotism in the future. All who hesitated, all who felt that mistakes had been committed but who still hoped that they might be repaired, all who believed that the Revolution might yet vindicate itself by combining liberty with order, saw themselves forced to choose, no longer between order and disorder, but between the old system and the new, between the ancient Monarchy and freedom, between the cause of their country and the cause of the invaders. Had there been no war with Europe, the astonishing episode of the Jacobin triumph, the worst excesses of the later Revolution, and all the crimes and glories of the Terror, could never have taken place in France.
It should be clearly understood that, even after the declaration of war, the friends of the Monarchy, who wished the Revolution to pause, were in a great majority both in Paris and in France. But they were disorganised and often lukewarm, divided into numberless different groups, jealous and distrustful of one another, largely governed by personal motives, with no clear policy before them, incapable of acting loyally together, and without the ability to act wisely, even if they could unite. Barnave and the Lameths distrusted Lafayette. Lafayette distrusted Dumouriez. The stronger royalists distrusted Barnave. The King distrusted all alike. On the other side was a smaller but more active party, full of enthusiasm and audacity, not, it is true, without enmities and divisions of its own, but still better organised than its opponents, prepared to embark on a policy of danger, and to hope that the future would turn to its account. In that situation of affairs the war broke out, and its effects were soon
apparent. It rendered Louis' dethronement almost certain. It drew a sharp line between those who were on the side of France and of the Revolution, and those who were on the side of the Emigrants and invaders, a line which placed the King upon one side and the vast majority of his subjects on the other. It rallied all patriots to the party which undertook the national defence. It made the Jacobins, whom the enemy denounced, the heroes of the popular resistance. It forced into helpless inaction all those who wanted order and a king, but who could not lift voice or hand for Louis, if by doing so they weakened the unity of France It rendered possible, though it did not necessitate, the Terror, for it converted all opponents of the Revolution into traitors. It led at once to national peril, and through peril to panic and confusion. In the confusion the elements of disorder, already rife in France and taught impunity by the experience of the past two years, rose uncontrolled in insurrection, and patriotism became identified with crime.
The movement of events was rapid. At the end of April, the campaign opened with an attempted invasion of Belgium. But the French troops were disorganised; their commanders were timid and incapable; two French divisions were shamefully defeated, and the general of one was murdered by his men. 'You marched out like madmen,' wrote Dumouriez bitterly, 'and you returned like fools.' The bad news from the front intensified the excitement in Paris. Another Ministerial crisis resulted in the appointment of Servan, a stern Republican, as Minister of War. The attacks upon the Queen redoubled. The lawlessness of the politicians of the streets increased. The Girondists, determined to weaken the Monarchy, abolished the King's constitutional guard, voted the banishment of all refractory priests, and decreed that a camp of twenty thousand men from the departments should be formed in the immediate neighbourhood of the capital. Since the winter, the Parisian mobs had been armed with pikes; and it seems that the Girondists, knowing that the influence of the Jacobin leaders with the populace of Paris was greater than their own, desired to have at hand a strong force of ardent revolutionists, distinct from the Parisians, on whom they could rely. The King, however, disliking these proposals, and wearied by the studied rudeness of his Ministers, refused to sanction
the formation of the camp and the persecution of the refractory priests. Then Madame Roland, in her husband's name, attacked him in a foolish and impertinent letter, and Louis, roused to unusual irritation, dismissed his Girondist advisers on the 12th June. For a moment Dumouriez remained at the head of affairs; but finding that he could not induce Louis to accept his views, he too resigned a few days later, and accepted a command in the army. Lafayette took advantage of the occasion to make a violent attack upon Dumouriez, thus converting into an enemy a man whom he might have found an invaluable ally Louis fell back on a new Ministry of personal friends of Lafayette, and the General wrote to the Assembly denouncing and threatening the Jacobin party. Thereupon the mob forces of Paris, equally alarmed by the dismissal of the Girondists and by the tone of Lafayette, broke into insurrection and invaded the Tuileries on the 20th June.
The insurrection of the 20th June, which had been for some time preparing, was not the work of the Republican leaders. The Girondists held aloof, and Danton and Robespierre discouraged the proposal. It was entirely the action of the subalterns of the party, led by Santerre. Almost to the last, the responsible men held back. Even on the 10th August, the Girondist leaders, who had been working for months to upset the throne, hesitated, when the victory was within their grasp. They had grown afraid of their Jacobin allies, while the Jacobins knew the smallness of their own forces, and still feared the strength of their opponents. The abortive riot of the 20th of June was followed by a brief reaction in the King's favour. Lafayette came up to Paris, denounced the rioters at the bar of the Assembly, proposed to shut the Jacobin club, and offered to carry the King out of Paris. The National Guards and the Parisian bourgeois, shocked by the insult offered to the Sovereign, showed themselves ready to rally round Lafayette. One of the new ministers, Terrier de Monciel, was a man of considerable energy and insight. He urged the King to place himself in the hands of the Constitutional party, and with their help to escape from Paris and appeal to France. But Louis, even in his desperate situation, could not be prevailed on to act cordially with Lafayette. He preferred to trust to the chapter of accidents and to wait for the Allies to deliver him. The General's offers were coldly
received. The favourable moment was allowed to pass. Lafayette, naturally offended, and always incapable of decisive action, returned humiliated to his army. Monciel's schemes were rejected, and, early in July, he and his colleagues resigned. The Court had deliberately thrown away its last chance of safety.
All through the month of July the agitation in Paris increased. On the 11th, the National Assembly declared that the country was in danger, and issued a stirring appeal for volunteers. The Republicans began to rally again, and the arrival of the Fédérés from the departments, to celebrate the festival of the fall of the Bastille, although partly checked by the vigorous action of Monciel, supplied them with the force which they required. The troops of the line remaining in the capital were ordered to the front. The leaders of the insurrection of the 20th June, acting with the Fédérés from the provinces, and encouraged this time by the Jacobin leaders, set to work to organise a rising in the revolutionary Sections of Paris. The denunciations of the King and of Lafayette, and the intimidation of the deputies in the streets redoubled. The reactionary party heightened the excitement by prophesying the speedy vengeance of the invaders. The allied forces at last began to show signs of activity, and at the end of July, the Duke of Brunswick, their commander-in-chief, issued a manifesto to the French people.
The idea of a manifesto had originated with Louis himself. Before the end of May, acting on the advice of Malouet and Montmorin, he had sent Mallet du Pan with a confidential message to the Allied Sovereigns at Frankfort. In this communication he entreated the Powers to adhere to Leopold's policy, to make it plain that their object was not to dismember France or to restore the proscribed classes, but only to set the King free, so that he might suppress the Jacobins, and readjust the Constitution in the interests of order and liberty combined. Louis' objects were not unworthy, but the policy by which he sought to achieve them was hopelessly unsound. Even had the Allies taken his advice, no arguments could have made the invasion palatable to Frenchmen. And, once war was declared, there was little chance that his advice would be heeded. Since the outbreak of hostilities the influence of the Emigrants had increased
abroad. They paid no attention to the warnings of Louis. They indignantly discarded the moderate language suggested to them by Mallet du Pan, and imparted their own spirit to the Duke of Brunswick's manifesto. The result was that the manifesto, with its violent and irrational menaces, caused the wildest indignation in France, roused the whole people to protest against it, and immediately facilitated the deposition of the King.
At last, early in August, the crisis came. The manifesto of the Allies, the arrival of a body of zealous Republican Fédérés from Marseilles, and the final breach between the King and the Gironde, precipitated the insurrection. The municipal authorities distributed cartridges freely in the Faubourg St. Antoine, while they refused ammunition to the National Guard. The insurrectionary leaders in the Sections completed their organisation, and arranged matters with the officials of the Commune. It is curious to notice that, almost at the end, the Girondists, frightened by the success of the Jacobins, tried to avert a rising and to compromise with the King. Had Louis been willing to replace them in office and to accept their terms unreservedly, it seems almost certain that they would at the last moment have broken with the Jacobins, and, in spite of their vaunted republicanism, have ranged themselves on the King's side. But Louis would listen to no overtures, and so they left him to his fate. It is also curious to notice how small—even at this time of keen excitement and revolutionary triumph—the insurrectionary battalions were, how few voters supported them in the Sections, how the heads of the party trembled for the result, and how difficult they found it to raise an adequate and imposing force. Had the defenders of the Tuileries had a leader to inspire them, had Louis for once laid sentiment aside and displayed a flash of determined courage, the rising might have been defeated and the mob dispersed. Napoleon, who watched the whole scene from a window, and who afterwards declared in St. Helena that the spectacle in the Tuileries gardens at nightfall was more horrible than any of his battle-fields, believed that, had Louis used his opportunities, he might easily have won the day. But the irresolution, which had been his ruin, dogged the King's footsteps to the last, and the 10th August ended in the capture of the Tuileries and the destruction of the throne.
The six weeks which followed the victorious insurrection were weeks of intense excitement in Paris. The two sections of Republicans divided the spoil. Roland and his colleagues returned to office, and Danton was appointed Minister of Justice. For the moment Danton became the most conspicuous man in France. The young lawyer had thrown himself into the revolutionary movement with characteristic intrepidity and ardour. Reckless, cynical, unscrupulous as he was, Danton bore the stamp of greatness. He was a king fit for the turbulent, ambitious spirits, whom Robespierre was too timid a theorist, and Marat too gloomy a fanatic to inspire. His physical vigour, his stentorian voice, his eloquent fancy, his fierce contempt for little men and little measures, the rough but genuine kindliness of his nature, and his real enthusiasm for his country and for freedom, appealed irresistibly to the imagination of his followers. Wherever he had appeared, whether at the Cordeliers Club, in the early days of the Revolution, or, later, among the officials of the Department of the Seine, or, later still, in the Commune of Paris, he had made a profound impression, and after the 10th August he naturally took the lead. Unquestionably Danton had grave faults. He had too few principles or scruples, little elevation of character, no refinement of mind. But yet there is a certain air of grandeur round him. His patriotism and courage cannot be doubted. His insight and capacity for statesmanship stand in marked contrast to the incapacity of his associates. No man learned more or more quickly from experience. And of his surpassing force and influence there are a hundred proofs.
In preparing the insurrection of the 10th August Danton had taken a prominent part. He was rewarded by a high post in the Government, and his action during the crisis which ensued is characteristic of the man. He threw himself, heart and soul, into the national defence. He felt that the one pressing necessity was to hold Paris against the invaders. He knew that his party were a small minority, and that Paris and France alike were full of men who would be ready enough to turn against them and to compromise with the Allies. If France were to be saved and the Revolution vindicated, he believed that violent measures might be needed, and those violent measures he was prepared to face. 'We must make,' he cried, 'the Royalists
afraid.' All the Jacobin leaders agreed in this. They saw that their only chance of safety lay in paralysing their enemies by terror. But some of them naturally hesitated as to the means. As the days went on, the danger increased. On the 20th August, Lafayette, after a vain attempt to induce his army to march on Paris, fled across the frontier. The Allies rapidly advanced. On the 23rd August, Longwy, one of the great frontier fortresses, surrendered with ignominious haste. On the 2nd September, Verdun surrendered too, and the road to Paris lay open to the invaders.
In that time of terrible excitement, Danton and his colleagues carried all before them. A special tribunal to try traitors was established on Robespierre's demand. The property of the Emigrants was confiscated. The refractory priests were condemned to transportation. Urgent measures were taken to raise troops, and all citizens, whether active or passive, were admitted to the National Guard. Under the auspices of the Insurrectionary Commune, houses were searched, arms seized, and suspected persons thrown into prison. While the tocsin in the city sounded, Danton roused the spirit of the Assembly. 'The alarm bell you hear rings no signal of danger. It sounds the charge against the enemies of your country. To conquer them, you must dare and dare and dare again, till France be saved.' The Insurrectionary Commune, which still wielded the powers which it had usurped on the 10th August, assumed dictatorial authority, overawed the Ministers and the Assembly, and translated Danton's warning into action. A frenzy of panic swept over Paris, and the answer to the shameful surrender of Verdun was the famous massacre in the prisons in September.
The exact responsibility for the massacre it is not easy to fix. Its immediate cause was unquestionably the panic into which Paris was thrown by the advance of the Allies. The terror of the moment produced a civil war between those who felt that they were fighting for their lives, and those who were supposed to be the friends of the invaders. In that war the more desperate conquered, and the weaker party fell. No doubt, the conquest was achieved by the aid of ruffians. A crisis of extreme peril, when rumour is busy and suspicion rife, brings to the surface many elements of disorder. The Ancien
Régime had left in Paris ample material for crime. It had taught the poor to be ignorant and brutal. It had created a class of men to whom pity and prosperity were equally unknown. Historians have long disputed whether the Insurrectionary Commune was responsible, or whether the movement was spontaneous. No doubt, the leaders of the Commune, Panis, Sergent, Hébert, BillaudVarennes, and their guide and coadjutor Marat, gave it at least encouragement and approval. It was Marat's policy triumphing at last. But the truth is, Paris must share the responsibility, for during those days of bloodshed, although the number of murderers was very small, no one interfered. The Legislative Assembly looked on, no doubt with grave compunction, but for all effective purposes with indifference. The volunteers, the National Guards, the great body of Parisian citizens stood by, apathetic or cowed. Robespierre may have found it difficult to reconcile the massacre with his sentimental love of virtue; but, though he was then a member of the Commune, he did nothing to arrest its course. He could always persuade himself in the last resort that murder was the justice of the people. Danton, with sterner logic and audacity, believed it to be necessary to paralyse the Royalists, and deliberately declined to interfere. Some of the Girondists were horrified, and made honest attempts to check the bloodshed, but attempts of an ineffectual kind. Others of the Girondists seem to have regarded it as inevitable, if the Republic were to be secured. Roland afterwards weakly tried to palliate it. Pétion offered the murderers refreshment. The fact is that the Girondist leaders were themselves exposed to the suspicious hostility of the Commune, and were powerless or disinclined to act[9] .
The outbreak in Paris was followed by similar outbreaks elsewhere. But the sequel of the massacre showed the Jacobin leaders in a better light. Under the guidance of Danton, a new spirit was infused into the Government. Thousands of recruits poured into the French camp, and the Assembly appointed to the chief command a soldier of genius in the person of Dumouriez. The rapid success of the invaders had been largely delusive. The fall of the French fortresses was due less to the prowess of the enemy than to treachery among the defenders. The Allied Powers were by no means at one upon all
points. Their generals and counsellors had neither brilliancy nor dash. The Duke of Brunswick was already weary of the campaign. Distinguished as he was, he belonged to an old school of soldiers, and he had never wished to march direct on Paris, leaving his communications unprotected. He had little sympathy with the Emigrants. He was in bad health and half-hearted in the war. The Austrians had not supported him as strongly as they had promised to do. His troops had suffered severely from illness and bad weather. Even after the fall of Verdun, he was disinclined to persevere. Accordingly, when Dumouriez gathered his forces at Valmy, and risking an engagement on the 20th September, succeeding in checking the enemy's advance, the Duke took the opportunity to retire, the campaign was abandoned, and Paris was saved.
From Valmy the tide of victory rolled on. Dumouriez followed up his success by the battle of Jemappes and the conquest of Belgium. But in the spring of 1793, fortune turned against him, and Dumouriez, like Lafayette, threw up his post and fled. Once again, in the summer of 1793, the Allies threatened to advance on Paris. Once again the fear of invasion strengthened the hands of the Terrorist party. Once again a new general was discovered, and the vigour of the Jacobins carried the day. Once again the young Republic triumphed, and after the winter of 1793 all danger from the frontiers disappeared. The war assumed a new character. It became a war of propaganda, and swept over Europe. It found upon its borders an ancient society, already in a state of dissolution, which, devoid of patriotism, enthusiasm or popularity, fell to pieces before its attack. Then, forgetting its philanthropic principles, it returned to the practices of the past, and in its dealings with Europe, adopted the spirit of the system which it assailed. In the end, the French Revolutionary war did not abolish tyrants or unite the human race. It obliterated many old landmarks. It broke down many feudal barriers. It swept many little despotisms away. It drew more sharply the divisions between the different nations. It rallied them more closely round their sovereigns. It cleared the ground for modern Europe to grow up. Unconsciously, and cruelly, it laid the foundations of that united German Empire, which was one day to take a terrible revenge on France. But the old order, thus improved and altered, was too strong
to die. Ultimately it subdued its conquerors, and the hero of the victorious Revolution married the niece of Marie Antoinette.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Some contemporary writers estimate the numbers of Condé's army very low, at not more than 3000 or 4000. M. Sorel, who is always a valuable authority, reckons them at 10,000 in October, 1791 Mr Morse Stephens gives a much higher figure
[9] It cannot be proved decisively that the Insurrectionary Commune organised or paid for the massacre, but several facts seem to point in that direction. The subject is fully discussed in M. Mortimer-Ternaux's Histoire de la Terreur, vol. iii. Appendix XVIII, and by M. Louis Blanc, in the note to the second chapter of the eighth book of his history.
CHAPTER VIII.
T F G .
T first sitting of the National Convention was held on the 21st September, 1792. The Parisian deputies, elected two or three weeks before, under the eyes of the Insurrectionary Commune, belonged almost entirely to the Jacobin party Their election is a significant example of the methods of Jacobin organisation, and in that election Robespierre, always a vigilant wire-puller, had shown the adroitness of his tactics and had taken the most prominent part. The meeting of the electors took place on the 2nd September, the day when the prison massacres began. No sooner had the electors assembled, than they were transferred, by the directions of the Commune, from their ordinary meeting-place to the Jacobin Club. Some of the electors, who held moderate opinions, were then excluded by a preliminary vote. The system of secret voting was suspended, and all were obliged to vote openly before an audience loudly and watchfully alert. As one Jacobin speaker admitted, his party would
have been 'beaten, even in Paris, in any election in which the voting had been secret.' The result was the victory of the extreme politicians. Robespierre, Danton, Marat and Collot d'Herbois were among the best known deputies elected, and all the heroes of the Insurrectionary Commune were brought triumphantly into the Convention.
In the provinces, however, the Jacobins were less successful. There too the minority carried the day, and most of the electors stayed away from the polls. But still the minority in the provinces represented a considerable bulk of opinion. Everywhere the result of the elections was to confirm the Coup d'etat of the 10th August. All who still took part in politics seemed to realise that the cause of the King was incompatible with the defence of the country, and preferred to put the interests of the country first. The consequence was that the Girondist party had a large following in the new Assembly. The Jacobins, it is true, were more compact and vigorous, and the great majority of members in the centre had no very definite views, and could not be depended on to vote consistently. But still the Girondist position was strong. They had the command of the Government. They had eloquent and effective speakers. They had several men of character and ability. They had behind them the weight of moderate opinion, which was shocked by the fearful disorders of September. The massacres had produced a reaction which tended, now that the danger of invasion was over, to strengthen the Girondist ranks. Had the Girondists possessed any organisation, any instincts of party management, or any leaders of authority and insight, they might have formed a powerful party, and have guided the Revolution yet.
But unfortunately the Girondists had none of these things. Vergniaud, their most splendid orator, had none of the qualities needed for a leader. Guadet and Gensonné, the two brilliant advocates who accompanied him from Bordeaux, were no better able to guide a party. Pétion, the ex-mayor, had proved his incompetence already. Roland, with all his honesty and aspirations after order, had little real capacity or strength. Condorcet, the philosopher of the Gironde, brought to the pursuit of politics all the characteristic vices of the academic mind. Barbaroux, the hero of the
Marseillais, was only distinguished by his beauty from the rest. Isnard and Louvet, Lanjuinais and Gorsas could not supply what was wanting in their colleagues. The party itself had no cohesion. Brissot, who had for some time been its leader, could not impose his ascendency for long, and found his authority challenged by the rising reputation of Buzot. Gradually two sections of Brissotins and Buzotins grew up within the ranks of the Gironde, and rendered still remoter than before the prospects of united and decisive action on the part of the majority of the House.
Buzot owed to Madame Roland much of the influence which he enjoyed with his party. Her house was the chosen resort of the Gironde. Their policy was largely arranged in her drawing-room. Her husband was their chief representative in the Government, and her interest in her husband's policy was as well known as her attachment to Buzot. Madame Roland is known to us by the portrait which she herself has drawn, and that portrait shows us clearly her undoubted courage and ability, her enthusiasm for the philosophy which she had studied and for the ideals which her bright imagination loved. But the memoirs show us also the self-conscious genius of the writer, her swift but rather shallow judgments, the strong personal element in her opinions, the ill-controlled, ambitious restlessness of her generous and ardent mind, and her incapacity for moderation, for being just towards opponents or tender towards fallen foes. What part Madame Roland played in politics it is impossible to say exactly. We know something of her words and actions upon a few occasions, and those, in spite of the charm and romance which surround her, are not always creditable to her head or heart. She died bravely, and posterity, recognising that, has perhaps been bountiful towards her virtues. But in so far as she inspired the Girondists, her political influence can only be regarded as disastrous, for there never was a party worse advised.
Other women, fair and unfair, lovely and unloveable, appear in the story of the French Revolution. There were the salons of the early days, where the Royalists gathered at the houses of Madame de Chambonas and Madame de Sabran, while the other side found more congenial company in the rooms of Mesdames de Beauharnais
and Talma. There was the salon of Madame de Genlis with its traditions of Orleanist intrigue, the official society of Madame Necker's circle, and Madame de Broglie's coterie of young, well-bred reformers. Later on, there was the salon of Madame de Staël, where the accomplished hostess pushed the interests of Narbonne as devotedly as Madame Roland pushed the interests of Buzot, and the well-lit tables of Madame de Sainte-Amaranthe, who expected to profit by the guests whom she received. There were the quieter but happier homes of Madame de Condorcet and Lucile Desmoulins. There were the not less happy women whom Danton, Robespierre and St. Just loved. There was the Queen, always gallant and unfortunate, but in her political influence most unfortunate of all; Charlotte Corday, the Girondist avenger, whose enthusiasm veiled from her the ugliness of murder; Theresa Tallien, who gave up her life and honour to a worthless man and used her power afterwards for purposes of mercy; Olympe de Gouges, the hapless dramatist and pamphleteer, who played her triple part as hostess, celebrity and victim in the Terror; and many another notable woman, of reputation high or low, of influence worthy or unworthy, such as the Demoiselles de Fernig, who served as aides-de-camp in Dumouriez' camp, Théroigne de Méricourt, known by all and loved by many, who, armed with a naked sabre, led the wild women in October to Versailles, Sophie Momoro, who headed the orgies on the Feast of Reason, and Rose Lacombe, the queen of the vile women who haunted the clubs and streets and galleries, disgraced the National Assembly, and knitted round the guillotine. It is strange, but it would seem to be indisputable, that, in many of the worst excesses of the Revolution, women of the worst character were specially conspicuous, and that when politics degenerated into savagery women without womanliness excelled the most.
The nine months which followed the meeting of the Convention were occupied by the struggle between the Jacobins and the Gironde. Even before the 10th August that struggle had begun. After the fall of Louis, it had become acute; and as soon as the Convention met, the animosities of the rival parties blazed out afresh. The difference in principle between Girondists and Jacobins is not altogether easy to define. Many tenets they professed to share in common, and until
the 10th August their aims had been in some respects the same. One noticeable difference, however, between them, lies in the character of the men. The Jacobins, as a whole, though the rule is subject to exceptions, were men of a rougher stamp, occasionally illeducated, coarse and unscrupulous, in some cases cruel, in many cases corrupt, but practical, alert and intrepid politicians, prepared to run great risks, merciless to their enemies if they conquered, sometimes ready with gay desperation to suffer if they lost the game. The Girondists, as a whole, were men of higher intellectual calibre, of more education and refinement, of a better cast. They were honest and decent. Their intentions were pure. They were embarrassed by scruples in a struggle with opponents who had none. They were distinguished by a fine enthusiasm for their vague and delusive ideals, which, if it seems theatrical now, was genuine then, and to which, while lamenting its waste and its errors, one may pay the tribute of respect.
But when one comes to principles, the difference between the two parties is less clear. The truth is that in the French Revolution there was no place for the Gironde. Two parties, and only two, were possible. One was the party which, representing the great majority of French feeling, had made the Revolution, had swept away the Ancien Régime, had founded the first constitution and had taken its name from its creation, the party which had aimed at establishing political freedom and a new system based on that in France. This party cared for liberty and order but wished for little more, and its mistakes and the fortunes of the time gradually lost it the control of events. The other was the new party, which rose to power on its rival's faults, which cared little for liberty and less for order, but which hoped to use the forces of distress and discontent to grasp the power which its rival had monopolised, to found a new social and industrial system in which it would secure a fairer profit for itself, and to destroy without scruple or compassion all who impeded the realisation of its aims.
Between these two parties the Girondists stood. They belonged to neither, but they shared to some extent the views of both. Like the first, they had moderation, a sense of restraint and a love of order.
Like the second, they repudiated any compromise with the past and hoped to establish their Utopia. But though they were strong enough to defeat the first, they were not strong enough to resist the second, and they could not fuse with either. They could not join with the Constitutional party, or rally the moderate majority round them, because, though they shared its feeling of propriety, they scorned its tenets and prejudices, its king and its religion. They could not throw themselves into the arms of the Jacobins, because, though they liked some of their democratic schemes, they could not countenance the Jacobin excesses or the Jacobin intrigues, the ruthless levelling of the Jacobin maxims, the Jacobin contempt for property and life.
Nor could the Girondists found a party of their own. Their ideas were not sufficiently definite for that, nor sufficiently different from those of others. The only principles which belonged distinctively to them were an enthusiasm for the forms of a republic, and an enthusiasm for the policy of war. The latter was partly an ill-considered emotion and partly a tactical device. The former was not a principle at all. The essence of republicanism, which is government by the people, had been accepted by all parties except the most reactionary, and was not peculiar to the Girondist belief. The forms of it, which, possessed by an extraordinary desire to emulate the Greeks and Romans, the Girondists esteemed so highly, were hardly worth a struggle to obtain. The fact that the Girondists should have cared for republican forms so much more than for anything else, is perhaps the clearest proof of their incompetence as practical politicians. For, as Robespierre had the sense to see, the term republic is an empty name, which the faith and heroism of men have sometimes associated with ideals of purity and freedom, but which has often been only a disguise for governments that were neither free nor pure.
As soon as the Convention opened, the Republic was proclaimed, and the struggle between the rival parties began. For the moment the Girondists were the stronger, and they were determined to use their power to suppress and, if they could, to punish the leaders of the Insurrectionary Commune. In that attempt they were partially successful. The steady persistence of Roland, supported by the
majority of the Convention, succeeded at last in dissolving the Insurrectionary Commune. On the 30th November, a moderate politician, Chambon, was elected Mayor by a large majority, after two other moderates, Pétion and d'Ormesson, had previously been elected and had refused to serve. The council and the other officials of the Commune were also renewed. On this occasion the voting was secret; and although the Jacobins spared no efforts, and succeeded in carrying Hébert and Chaumette, the smallness of the Jacobin vote and the abstention of the vast majority of voters showed how weak numerically were the forces which the minority could command.
But in other respects the Girondists were less successful. Their proposals for the formation of a guard for the Convention resulted only in bringing to Paris a small force of Fédérés from the departments. Their demand for the punishment of those concerned in the September massacres fell to the ground. Their attacks upon Robespierre, Marat and others produced only bitter personalities, which tended to weary the Assembly, and by giving Robespierre opportunities of dilating on his services to the Revolution, to increase his popularity in Paris. The Jacobins began to threaten their monopoly of office. In the middle of October, Pache, the newly appointed Minister of War, and till then an intimate friend of Roland, cast himself into the arms of the Jacobin party. Suddenly turning on his Girondist colleagues, Pache made the War Office the meetingplace of the politicians of the Commune, placed his influence and his funds at their disposal, and to the disgust of Dumouriez and Danton, threw the military arrangements into confusion.
The Girondists were further weakened by the trial of the King. The long debates upon that question, which began early in November, 1792, and which ended in Louis' execution on the 21st January, 1793, certainly damaged the reputation of the party. They showed in a clear light the stern logic of the Jacobin leaders and the weakness and disunion of their opponents. They gave fresh opportunities for excitement and disorder, which the Jacobins knew how to use. The vote which condemned the King to death was carried finally by a narrow majority, but it could not have been carried without wholesale
intimidation. The violence of the agitation in the galleries, in the streets, in the Sections, which steadily rose as the debates went forward and as a feeling of sympathy for Louis appeared, produced so general a panic, that it is recorded that fourteen thousand people fled from Paris in the last week of the year, under the impression that the massacres of September were about to be repeated[10] . It is true that in the end the leading Girondists voted for death; but they voted openly in the presence of an armed and vociferating crowd, amply sufficient to decide the wavering and almost sufficient to terrorise the brave. Vergniaud, who voted with the majority when the critical moment came, had already pleaded for mercy in the finest speech which he ever delivered, and had declared the night before the verdict that it was an insult to suppose him capable of voting for Louis' death.
With the trial of the King the demoralisation of politics increased. The Convention lost all dignity and decorum. The violence of the rival parties deepened. Deputies came down armed to the meetings of the House. The president, powerless to keep order, was frequently insulted in the chair. Abusive terms were shouted across the floor. The voices of the speakers were constantly drowned in the din from the galleries, where, according to Brissot, 'the brigands and bacchantes' ruled. The same demoralisation appeared in the public service. On the proclamation of the Republic, in September, 1792, all administrative and judicial officers were renewed. The Convention declared that a knowledge of the law should no longer be a necessary qualification for judicial appointments. Education was regarded as equally unnecessary, and a number of ignorant and incompetent officials were thus imported into the administration. The multiplication of offices and places, so profitable to those in power, rapidly increased as time went on, and with the spirit of plunder the spirit of corruption spread. Under Pache the War-Office became a centre of Jacobin intrigue, where the Minister and his associates could display with effect their bitter distrust of the Commander-inChief, undermine Dumouriez' authority in the army, and, regardless of his wishes and designs, promote their own theories and provide for their friends.
From the beginning of the new year the Girondists steadily lost ground. In January, Roland, their most active supporter in the Government, resigned his office. The control of the Ministry of the Interior, with all its authority and resources, thereupon passed into the hands of Garat, a man of amiable intentions and moderate views, but entirely lacking in force or decision, and with none of Roland's devotion to the Gironde. Early in February, Pache, who had been compelled to retire from the War Office, to the delight of Dumouriez and Danton, was elected Mayor in Chambon's place, and in his person the Jacobins finally regained control of the Commune of Paris. About the same time Condorcet brought forward the Girondist proposals for a new constitution, proposals wildly unpractical in their nature, which gave satisfaction to no one at all, and which lent some colour to the charge, which the Jacobins pressed against the Gironde, that they wished to confer powers upon the departments which would make them almost independent States, to destroy the influence of the Government in Paris, and to break up the unity of the Republic. The Girondists, who had no large following in the capital, proceeded to alienate what following they had. They declared irreconcilable war upon the Commune. They denounced the disorder of the Parisian mobs, and their demands for exceptional legislation in their favour. They boasted unwisely of the devotion of the provinces to themselves. They threatened to punish heavily any attempt at intimidation by the Sections, but they took no steps to guard effectually against it. Finally, they made an attack upon Danton as ill-judged as it was unprovoked, and thus alienated the only man who had influence and ability enough to save them, and who, weary of factious animosities and earnestly desiring to found a Government strong enough to make itself respected, might with a little tact have been induced to offer them his powerful support.
Moreover, the course of external politics once again assisted the Jacobin designs. The victory of Valmy had been followed by a series of successes on the Rhine, in Savoy and in Nice, by the defeat of the Austrians and the conquest of Belgium. But the reckless policy of the Convention, its disregard of treaties, and its determination to spread revolutionary principles at any cost, multiplied the enemies of
France. The French Government's resolution to attack Holland offended and alarmed the English. The execution of Louis created deep and general indignation in Europe. Early in 1793, England, unheeding Pitt's pacific dreams, and roused by the warning tones of Burke's hot anger and imagination, plunged into the war. Spain, under its Bourbon princes, followed suit. The difficulties of the French troops increased as their spirit and discipline diminished. The allied armies resumed the offensive. At the beginning of March a succession of reverses overtook the French arms, and the invasion of Holland was abandoned. On the 18th, Dumouriez with the main army was defeated by the Austrians in the battle of Neerwinden, and Belgium was lost. Dumouriez, disappointed by the turn of events, long weary of the Jacobin ascendency and meditating means to overthrow it, rejected Danton's friendly encouragement, talked openly of restoring the Constitutional throne, and determined to declare against the Convention. The Convention, aware of his designs, sent off commissioners to arrest him in his camp. On the 3rd April, foiled at the last by his own irresolution and by the apathy of his troops, Dumouriez left his army and took refuge in the Austrian ranks. Once again the French commander had deserted in the face of disaster, and the danger of invasion reappeared.
The events on the frontier reacted immediately upon politics in Paris. Danton at last succeeded in convincing the Assembly of the absolute necessity of a strong Executive. In the end of March and the beginning of April, a series of decrees passed the Convention, establishing, for the first time since the outbreak of the Revolution, a powerful Government in France, and founding or re-organising at the same time the three chief instruments of the Terror. One decree created the Revolutionary Tribunal, a court with summary process and extraordinary powers, to try conspirators against the State; another, the famous Committee of General Security, to hunt down and punish political crime; and a third, the still more famous Committee of Public Safety, soon to become the most redoubtable despotism in the history of the world. With these decrees went other energetic measures—fresh powers for the commissioners, the 'Representatives on Missions,' sent into the provinces to execute the orders of the Convention; a fresh levy of 300,000 men for the
