The Reign of Terror 1793–1794: Leading the Angry Mob and Murdering Political Rivals. Part 7: La Guerre
Finally released after five years, the general suffered in multiple dark, mold ridden cells throughout his enemies’ empires. Transferred many times within the Prussian empire and eventually exchanged to the Austrians, the Olmütz prison (modern day Olomouc, Czech Republic), where prisoners were “so important, in fact, that they were referred to only by number to conceal their identities,” (Baker 1977) denied the general any communication to and from the outside world. Sadly, his enemies treated him better than what was offered back in Paris. The few friends that he had left never gave up hope for his release even though they did not know exactly where he was held captive. From his desertion in 1792 to 1797 many friends attempted to secure the general’s release through diplomatic means, and at one point an American, Francis Kinloch Huger, assisted in the general’s failed escape/rescue attempt (Baker, 1977). It was not until 1797, with an amendment to the Treaty of Campo Formio, that Napoleon Bonaparte secured the release of the Marquis de Lafayette. Had Lafayette not surrendered to the enemy in 1792, he surely would have surrendered his head to the guillotine in Paris. Lafayette was the first of many to fall victim for speaking out against the angry mob (sans-culottes) and the left-wing politicians in the Legislative Assembly. 1792 marked a complicated and frustrating year, which included a reluctant king, a foreign war, an angry mob insurrection, and the end of the monarchy. Born out of fear, the Revolution continued to react out of fear, and every event in 1792 compounded fear and legitimized the murder of political rivals. Yet, in 1792 there was one man who brilliantly led the sans-culottes and demanded Lafayette’s head for criticizing the left-wing version of liberty: Jean-Paul Marat. Since the Revolution’s inception, Marat wielded the sans-culotte mob whenever he wished, but as they stormed the Tuileries Palace in June and August of 1792, the sans-culottes turned from a political weapon to a political power.
Following the catalytic events of 1791 (The Champ de Mars Massacre, the King’s Flight to Varennes, and the Declaration of Pillnitz), fear once again became a premium commodity. The possibility of two great armies entering France to restore the Ancien Régime enraged the sans-culottes and those who sat on the far-left side in the Assembly. Yet, the autumn months of 1791 gave many hope for security and unity as the National Assembly’s term ended and a new government, the Legislative Assembly, was voted in on 1 October 1791. Although the angry mob viewed Louis XVI as a traitor for his attempted escape, the Legislative Assembly was established as a constitutional monarchy which gave the King full veto power. In the Constitution of 1791, Chapter 3, Section 3: Royal Sanction declares, “the decrees of the legislative body are presented to the King, who may refuse his consent thereto.” This course of action quickly became problematic for the Assembly, for the King used his veto power frequently and suspicions grew that he would use foreign assistance to reclaim an absolute monarchy. The Assembly itself shifted politically, as hardly any former right-wing politicians from the previous Assemblies returned due to emigration. Thus, the former moderate left-wingers (led by Jacques Pierre Brissot and known as the Girondin party), sat on the Assembly’s right side, while the Jacobin Club radicals (led by Maximilien Robespierre and eventually known as the Montagnard party mid-1792), remained on the left side and grew in considerable size from the previous Assembly. From this moment, Robespierre’s left-wingers and Brissot’s right-wingers would continually argue and blame each other for the republic’s failures till Robespierre took over in 1793.
For centuries upon centuries, the French third estate always had the nobility, clergy, or monarchy to blame for their failures in life, which the first two estates are rightfully accused. Now that the third estate achieved power, abolished the nobility, and formed a left-wing dominant constitutional monarchy; the one challenge that continually plagued the left-wing was actually solving problems because there was no one else to blame but themselves. Brissot and the Girondins held the majority for most of the Legislative Assembly’s existence, which the Assembly immediately began attributing the Revolution’s problems to domestic enemies labeled as “refractory priest” (Doyle, 174), or priests who refused to take the oath of allegiance to the French state. These priests became the first and obvious problem because they continued to follow the pope and not the revolutionary cultural trends. Throughout the Reign of Terror, anyone not enthusiastic about the angry mob culture was suspected as a traitor. Émigré nobles became the next on the list to blame, which Brissot condemned and demanded that the state confiscate any property that belongs to a noble exile. The King vetoed this legislature in November and quickly became unpopular among those who wanted the property. While Brissot was proposing the émigré property solution, word came from Avignon that a massacre took place. For nearly 500 years Avignon was part of the Papal States and where seven Popes resided in the fourteenth century. As revolutionaries decided to annex the territory within French boundaries, the people of Avignon protested and hanged a revolutionary official. In retaliation the pro-annexationist angry mob arrested and killed sixty Avignon citizens. In his report, the provincial deputy declared, “I maintain that as regards refractory priests, there is only one certain course, which is to exile them from the kingdom…do you not see that the priest must be cut off from the people he leads astray?” (Doyle, 177). Consequently, the angry mob and leftist politicians started to move from the belief that Christianity should be subdued to the belief that removing Christianity from Revolutionary France was a necessity for progress.
To truly unite the country, Brissot and his followers proposed that war against Austria was the best course of action. It was Austria and Prussia who created the Declaration of Pillnitz, which many Parisians viewed as a declaration of war. Tensions rose in the early 1792 months as Louis, with the enthusiasm of the Assembly, threatened to invade the Holy Roman Empire territories of Mainz and Trier if they did not demobilize their troops. In return Austria threatened to invade France if Louis made any moves towards the Holy Roman boarder, which Austria began to mobilize its troops as a precautionary measure. With Austria’s mobilization, war was inevitable, and France precipitately declared war on 20 April 1792. What assisted in the decision to declare war was Louis’ selection of ministers back in March, a group of war hawks suggested to the king by Brissot. Following the King’s ministry selection of all Girondin politicians, Jean Paul Marat scathingly criticized the appointments when he wrote:
“Never did our former tyrants give us as much cause for complaint as our own barbarous delegates are giving us today…We are farther from liberty than ever. Not only are we slaves; we’re slaves legally…Take a look at the ‘theater of State’ — the decorations have changed, but the same actors are there, and the same masks and the same plots” (Connor, 88).
Marat, Robespierre, and many from the far-left political wing felt that adding a foreign war to a revolution would only cause more problems, which both Marat and Robespierre received caustic remarks from the right-wing. Yet, Marat’s and Robespierre’s voices of reason were drowned out by the enthusiasm and the call to arms for battle.
Colonial warfare and tactics, particularly in the European theater, was based on the Prussian linear model perfected by Frederick the Great. Officers came exclusively from the noble class, battles occurred on an open field with howitzer cannon upon a hill in the background, and the first army to leave the battlefield lost. A typical set up for colonial warfare opened with howitzer cannons to gauge their range, followed by infantry companies marching shoulder to shoulder along with a drum beat. Colonial technology dictated the infantry’s linear style formations. Often three rows deep and firing at the officer’s command, the 18th century smooth bore muskets offered far more damage when the soldiers stood together and fired as a single unit. The smooth bore musket’s accuracy was unreliable, but in the linear formation it became a lead wall propelling at the opposition. As the infantry fired their first couple rounds, the smaller field cannons rolled into action to debilitate the enemy, all the while the dragoons patiently waited on the formation wings for the perfect opportunity to perform a flanking maneuver. Following the infantry’s initial rounds, they would fix bayonets and charge the enemy off the field at the same moment the dragoons charged. At a .60-.75 caliber size, if the musket ball did not kill you it most certainly shattered a bone, while the field cannons were fully capable of ripping appendages clear off the casualty. After the dragoons discharged their pistols, their sabers frequently left deep slash marks on their victims. The fifteen-inch bayonets left soldiers suffering as retraction of the weapon from the victim’s body did not always follow the insertion path and left many organs irredeemable with contemporary field medics.
With the declaration of war on 20 April, the French army mobilized quickly and headed north to the Austrian Netherlands border (modern day Belgium). Unfortunately, and still following colonial customs and tactics, the French army lacked experienced officers due to the nobility’s mass emigration from the previous three years. Before the battle took place, Marat prophetically predicted as always:
“However valiant the defenders of our liberty may be, it doesn’t take a genius to predict that our armies will be crushed in their first campaign. I concede that the second might be less disastrous and that the third might even end in victory … But to win a decisive victory over our enemies, a long and disastrous war would be necessary” (Connor, 96).
Led by generals Lafayette and Rochambeau, both heroes from the Battle of Yorktown in 1781, the armies marched to the northern border with a triple pronged plan of attack. Yet, since the soldiers lacked experience and mistrusted their few noble officers, the French ranks folded after the first volley from the Austrians and retreated frantically just as Marat predicted. As a result, desertion rates in the cavalry amplified suspicions, and some troops hanged an officer on grounds of treason. The only thing that saved the French army was Austria’s lack of preparation, which would take Austria an additional three months to get out of first gear to form an invasion force.
Back in Paris, politicians maliciously blamed everyone else but themselves for the army’s failures, which soon became the hallmark of leftist politics. Girondins blamed Montagnards, Montagnards blamed Girondins, but soon enough everyone started to suspect King Louis. Throughout the spring, many suspected that the King hoped for an invasion in whatever form to destroy the angry mob, which even Marat predicted when he wrote in his journal, “there’s a real danger that one of our own generals might win a victory and, manipulating the drunken joy of the soldiers and the population, might lead his victorious army against Paris to reestablish the King’s power” (Connor, 97). One member from a local Jacobin Club explained, “Everywhere you hear the cry that the king is betraying us, the generals are betraying us, that nobody is to be trusted” (Doyle, 184). So naturally, when the angry mob is continually gripped by fear, they lash out. 20 June 1792 was supposed to celebrate the Tennis Court Oath Anniversary with a liberty tree planted at the Tuileries Palace, but over 10,000 sans-culottes invaded the palace. The guards did not try to stop them, and the king found himself sitting all alone in his chambers as every person marched passed him and hurled insults, threats, and demands upon him for two hours. After the mob made him wear a Phrygian cap and drink to the Revolution, the mayor of Paris eventually convinced the angry mob to leave, and surprisingly, this event caused the nation to feel sorrow and support for the king. In late June, Lafayette had had enough of politicians wielding the angry mob every time they wanted something accomplished and left his army on the front lines to speak out against the Jacobin clubs, the sans-culottes, and the leftwing politicians at the Legislative Assembly in Paris. It was now very clear, and suspicions confirmed, that Lafayette was planning a coup to restore the monarchy. Mocked as a Julius Caesar and the Butcher of the Champ de Mars, Lafayette returned to the northern border, yet because he accused the Jacobins and sans-culottes as the primary reason for France’s problems, Lafayette became a traitor in the eyes of the angry mob.
It was decreed on 17 August 1792 that the Marquis de Lafayette was to be arrested, which upon hearing the decree, “Lafayette left his command and entered the enemy’s territory with twenty-one of his officers, on August 19, 1792” (Chinard 2020, 135–136). Given American citizenship for his heroics over a decade earlier, Lafayette made several attempts to secure his release through the current president, George Washington. Unfortunately, Washington and Secretary of State, Thomas Jefferson, agreed that American involvement would only heighten tensions and possibly incite a declaration of war. It is not known whether Lafayette would have sustained a good standing with the leftwing politicians had he not condemned them. What we can learn from the Revolution is that only a strong military dictator can truly control the angry mob, which was found in Napoleon. When Lafayette spoke out against the leftwing politicians in the summer of 1792, that marked the moment when freedom of speech was no longer safe. When Lafayette deserted to the enemy, freedom of speech went with him. Utter chaos would ensue for the next two years with thousands of heads cut off, but first, the only logical next step for the angry mob in 1792 was to kill the king.
References
Baker, James W. 1977. “The Imprisonment of Lafayette.” American Heritage 28, no. 4 (June). https://www.americanheritage.com/imprisonment-lafayette
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.
Lafayette, Marie J.P., and Thomas Jefferson. 2020. The Letters of Lafayette and Jefferson. Edited by Gilbert Chinard. Barakaldo Books.
