The Reign of Terror 1793–1794: Leading the Angry Mob and Murdering Political Rivals. Part 6: Fuite à Varennes

Ben Hoshko
11 min readAug 25, 2020
Flight to Varennes of Louis XVI and his family during the night of 20–21 June 1791; H.G. Wells, 1921

Roughly thirty-one miles to the border and with the average 18th century stagecoach speed of 5 miles per hour, the royal family would reach the Austrian Netherlands’ (modern day Belgium) border by the morning of 21 June 1791. Thirty-one miles till the royal family escaped their posh imprisonment, the angry mob, the inconceivable idea of a constitutional monarchy in France, and only thirty-one miles till they gathered with the émigré army to reassert their authority over the sans-culottes and all of France. The plans were well established for over a year, letters passed back and forth to establish different horse teams at each stop along the way, the costumes were worn to disguise the royal family as best as possible, and only the most trusted people took part in the events. Known as the Flight to Varennes, this became the first domino to fall in the sequence leading to the Reign of Terror. Following the Women’s March on Versailles in 1789, the angry mob achieved their initial goals and a constitutional monarchy nearly established. With this goal achieved and égalité a possibility for the urban poor, riots died down with peace on the horizon. The angry mob’s fire slowed down to mere embers, but three events in 1791 reignited the sans-culottes like a napalm explosion: The Flight to Varennes, the Champ de Mars Massacre, and the Declaration of Pillnitz.

Since the Revolution’s beginning, conspiracy theories appeared everywhere in France, particularly in Paris proper. 1790 showed promise for a constitutional monarchy, and the sans-culottes appeared content with their accomplishments, yet there was still one man stirring up trouble with outlandish claims: Jean-Paul Marat. As early as July 1790 Marat wrote his most scathing and outlandish conspiracy when he claimed to have reliable information of the King’s escape from Paris to join a great émigré army in Metz. His journal, Ami du Peuple, displayed the headline “It’s All Over for Us!” while Marat proposed his most obvious solution to this problem when he wrote:

Five or six hundred heads chopped off would assure you peace, liberty and happiness. A false humanitarianism has restrained your arms and has prevented you from striking such blows. That will cost the lives of millions of your brothers. Let your enemies triumph for an instant and torrents of blood will flow. They’ll cut your throats without mercy, they’ll slit the bellies of your wives, and in order to forever extinguish your love of liberty, their bloody hands will reach into your children’s entrails and rip their hearts out. (Conner, 71)

Although written off as insane by many, the royal family did indeed make plans and pass letters to foreign dignitaries along with the émigrés. Since the Great Fear, which attacked the nobility and feudalism throughout France, many noble families emigrated to the Austrian Netherlands or the Holy Roman Empire out of fear that the angry mob would murder them. The comte d’Artois, the King’s brother and eventually Charles X (1824–1830), became the most famous émigré due to his insistence on raising a counterrevolutionary army. Since the Women’s March on Versailles, plans to rescue the royal family and condemning the revolution spread throughout Europe. Pope Pius VI condemned the Revolution for how they seized church property and land, while Queen Marie Antoinette pleaded for her brother, Austrian Emperor Leopold II, to invade France and rescue her. Oddly enough, the Flight to Varennes was not the King’s idea. In fact, King Louis has always been inept, impassive, and apathetic during his entire reign. All the plans for their escape was the doing of Marie Antoinette.

Marie Antoinette was the epitome of the lavish and frivolous elite livelihood. Her hair, her dresses, and her complete disdain for the third estate established her pompous reputation. She is legendary for her reply “Let them eat cake” upon learning that the peasantry lacked a sufficient bread supply; however, there is not enough evidence to credit Marie Antoinette with this phrase. The first evidence of the phrase appears in Jean-Jacque Rousseau’s (2012, 309) Confessions, when he states “At length I recollected the thoughtless saying of a great princess, who, on being informed that the country people had no bread, replied, ‘Then let them eat pastry!’” The word pastry is the modern translation while cake was the typical 18th and 17th century translation, yet the French word for cake (gâteau) does not appear in Rousseau’s manuscript. His original sentence does not mention which great princess and uses the word brioche (Qu’ils mangent de la brioche), yet the legend grew over time and by the mid-19th century most believed she did.

The arrest of Louis XVI and his family at the house of the registrar of passports, at Varennes in June, 1791; Thomas Falcon Marshall, 1854

According to Marie Antoinette biographer, Charles Duke Yonge (1876, 341;342) Marie planned the royal escape in a very cautious manner while also acting recklessly when he states, “She was cheered, however, by repeated letters from the emperor, showing the warm and affectionate interest which he took in the result of the enterprise, and promising with evident sincerity,” as well as “The queen herself, with some degree of imprudence, sent away a large package to Brussels.” Letters and packages coming and going from the palace were not unusual, except during the Revolution where conspiracies of their flight had already been established. It was also Marie who refused to use two separate and unpresumptuous carriages which moved very fast for 18th century standards, as well as the royal carriage for its discernibility. She made arrangements for an unusually large and slow carriage, designed by De Fersen, who “had a carriage of unusual dimensions built for some friends in the South of Europe,” (Yonge 1876, 342) so the entire escape party could move together. Corresponding with General Bouillé (who massacred the Nancy mutineers), Marie arranged troops to be stationed along the route while General Bouillé awaited them near the Austrian Netherlands border. With the plans set, the royal family dressed as common folk and even the prince disguised as a young girl, it was Louis who obstructed their escape by constantly sticking his head out the unusually large carriage window in every town they passed. Although many recognized him, they either thought nothing of the spectacle or they were loyal to the King, yet “Drouet, the postmaster at Ste. Menehould, a town about one hundred and seventy miles from Paris, was of a less loyal disposition” (Yonge 1876, 345). Some historians attribute Drouet recognizing the King’s face on either paper of coin currency, while Marie Antoinette Biographer, Charles Duke Yonge (1876) claims Drouet, the postmaster, recognized the likeness from a postage stamp. Riding after the carriage, Drouet finally caught up to them at Varennes and called for the local national guard. In peculiar fashion, Louis had several occasions to escape from his captures, yet he insisted on no bloodshed and fabricated a story of traveling to a nearby town. Even General Bouillé, who grew impatient and took a detachment to Varennes pleaded with Louis to let him fight the local national guardsmen and rescue the royal family, yet Louis told Bouillé to stand down. Only thirty-one miles to the Austrian Netherlands border, and Louis XVI proved yet again how pathetic he truly was.

Lafayette au Champ de Mars, ordonne de tirer sur le peuple (Lafayette firing on the Cordeliers Club); Ary Scheffer, 1807

Similar to the Fall of the Bastille, the Flight to Varennes caused a chain reaction of fear not only with the sans-culottes, but with the entire French nation. The Assembly lost hope and respect for the King, calls for bloodshed and conspiracies flowed during Jacobin meetings and regular street conversations, “all over the capital symbols of royalty were attacked and defaced” (Doyle 2002, 152), but the second event in 1791 known as the Champ de Mars Massacre only made matters worse for the King and the Assembly. While celebrating the Fall of the Bastille’s second anniversary, Jacobin clubs gathered to discuss the monarchy and the Revolution’s future. On 17 July Jacobin clubs called for a petition gathering, which a crowd of 50,000 people gathered at the Champ de Mars to sign the petition for the King to abdicate his throne. Still at this point, the revolutionary government and the Jacobins did not fully believe in a kingless republic for France, only the radical left-wingers in the Assembly thought it a possibility. With tensions from the Flight to Varennes at the extreme, Parisians gathered to sign the petition for the King’s abdication. While signing, the crowd caught two men underneath the table, instantly accused them as enemy spies and hanged them on the spot. Jean-Paul Marat biographer, Clifford D. Conner (2012, 84) explains how some historians believe they were just young men trying to look up the ladies’ skirts while they signed, yet the lynching caused the Parisian mayor to call up the national guard and declare martial law. Even though the King’s flight caused anger within the Assembly, most of the members and many throughout the country grew tired of the constant turmoil and kangaroo courts dictated by the angry mob. As Lafayette and the national guard entered the Champ de Mars, people began throwing rocks and even fired shots at them. To disperse the crowd, Lafayette ordered the national guard to open fire, wounding several and killing fifty people. While the Assembly praised the mayor and Lafayette for subduing the angry mob, Jean-Paul Marat wrote in his Ami du Peuple, “If only the People’s Friend could rally two thousand determined men, he would lead them to rip Lafayette’s heart out, burn down the royal palace with the King and his ministers inside, and impale the National Assembly deputies in their seats” (Connor 2012, 85). Once again Marat went into hiding as an arrest warrant was put out for sedition, and the print shop for Ami du Peuple was closed down and the printer arrested. Author Timothy Tackett (2003, 479) explains how the Assembly instituted an antisedition law and “harsh penalties” for anyone acting violently towards national guardsmen when he writes, “for ten days the red flag of martial law continued to fly over the city hall, and arrests and indictments were pursued well into August.” Although the use of extreme force seems disastrous, it is the quickest and most efficient way to suffocate the angry mob’s movement and ambition. If the Flight to Varennes caused the Revolution’s mistrust in the royal family, then the Champ de Mars Massacre caused the Revolution’s mistrust in the National Assembly. That mistrust would only grow to a feeling of betrayal as the nobility and right-wingers either emigrated or left the city, as well as the radical left-winger’s influence expanded in the Assembly.

Declaration of Pillnitz of 1791; Johann Heinrich Schmidt, 1791

The third and final catalyst to the revolutionary cause in 1791 did not come from within but was designed to rescue the royal family from the vicious angry mob and restore monarchical order. During the early stages of the Revolution many European countries kept their distance. Whether they felt it was not a point of interest to interfere, or did not have the authority to intervene, or they did not want to expend manpower and finances to assist the French government, many countries stayed away from French politics. The British however, reveled in France’s downfall due to their assistance with the British Colonies from 1777–1783. The two European powers that could intervene, Prussia and Austria, were preoccupied with Poland and the Ottomans, while also trying to keep Russia from gaining too much influence and territory. Finally free from Eastern obligations and agreeing that Louis’ restoration was best for Europe, “Leopold issued the ‘Padua Circular’, calling on the crowned heads of Europe to combine to restore liberty to the French royal family” (Blanning 2007, 260). Alongside being Marie Antoinette’s brother, Emperor Leopold and Frederick William II became increasingly worried that the revolutionary fervor would spread throughout their realms, especially Austria’s extensive ethnic diversity. Frederick William II of Prussia and Leopold of Austria met in Pillnitz (modern day Dresden), coming to an agreement that Louis’ restoration was of the upmost importance. Author Tim Blanning (2007, 261) explains several misinterpretations of the Declaration of Pillnitz in 27 August, 1791, especially the ‘alors et dans ce cas’ (then and in that case) clause in the Declaration when he states, “if all the European sovereigns agreed to co-operate, ‘then and in that case’ Austria and Prussia would agree to take action.” With this clause, Prussia and Austria would only invade France if the other European powers did not see a problem with restoring Louis XVI; however, the émigrés viewed the Declaration of Pillnitz as an act of war which they furiously raised more troops to assist the counter-revolutionary invasion, while the National Assembly and the angry Parisian mob saw this as a declaration of war which sparked a mass panic within the Assembly.

The Assembly itself began to shift in a new direction and almost entirely encompassed by the former leftwing. 1 October 1791 marked the Legislative Assembly’s first meeting, which replaced the National Assembly through peaceful elections. The clergy, nobility, and conservative rightwing which dominated the National Assembly were nowhere to be found, causing the moderates to shift to the right side of the Assembly and leaving plenty of room for the radical left to grow. The three events of 1791 gave the Legislative Assembly a large quantity of issues to argue about, which gave rise to the most notorious people and factions in the Reign of Terror. Jacques Pierre Brissot would lead the Girondin party, Maximilien François Marie Isidore de Robespierre would lead the Montagnard party, and Jean-Paul Marat would continue to lead the sans-culottes with brilliance and passion. 1791 acted as the eye of the Revolution’s hurricane and although there was limited riots and protests, the three major events caused not only fear, but betrayal. The Flight to Varennes betrayed the peoples’ hope and faith in the King’s benevolence toward égalité and a constitutional monarchy. The Champ de Mars Massacre betrayed the peoples’ faith and understanding of not only the Assembly but also the intentions of Lafayette. The national guard was supposed to be on the side of the people, yet the massacre of “patriots” caused tremendous mistrust of the Assembly who praised the national guard’s actions. Finally, the Declaration of Pillnitz betrayed the hope that other European patriots would join the Revolution’s cause and revolt against their oppressors. For many within the new Legislative Assembly extreme preventive measures were the only means to keep the Revolution alive: a declaration of war on Austria and Prussia.

References

Blanning, Tim. 2007. The Pursuit of Glory: The Five Revolutions That Made Modern Europe 1648–1815. London: Penguin Books.

Conner, Clifford D. 2012. Jean Paul Marat: Tribune of the French Revolution. New York: Pluto Press.

Doyle, William. 2002. The Oxford History of the French Revolution. 2nd ed. New York: University of Oxford Press.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. 2012. The Confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau: Complete. Translated by W. Conyngham Mallory. Auckland: The Floating Press.

Tackett, Timothy. 2003. “The Flight to Varennes and the Coming of the Terror.” Historical Reflections / Réflexions Historiques 29, no. 3: 469–93

Yonge, Charles Duke. 1876. The Life of Marie Antoinette, Queen of France. New York: Harper & Brothers.

--

--