When the King Took Flight (30 page)

Not only was the petition sent to Paris, where it was read before
the Jacobins on July 6, but dozens of copies were circulated directly
through the national network of patriotic clubs. Wherever it was
received, it seems to have been the subject of serious and spirited
debate. Bordeaux took it up as early as July z; Toulouse and Aixen-Provence read it on July 4 and 5. By July io it had reached
Strasbourg, in the far northeastern corner of the country. Poitiers,
in western France, began debating it two days later; while Bar-leDuc, near Varennes, read it on July 13, and Limoges on July 15. In
the end, only five clubs are known to have fully endorsed the petition." Several adhered initially, but then reconsidered and decided
to await the National Assembly's decision or opted to reject the
present king but not the monarchy itself. But even when the majority rejected the Montpellier petition, a strong minority frequently
emerged in favor of a republic. In both Poitiers and Bordeaux re publican contingents argued their case vigorously, and these contingents might well have prevailed if debate had not been cut short by
the arrival of the Assembly's decrees exonerating the king.38

News of the Assembly's decision and the Champ de Mars shootings
put an abrupt end to the period of intense political reevaluation.
Faced with this new crisis, local elites affirmed their adherence to
the July decrees almost without exception. Nowhere outside Paris
did the decrees become the target of mass demonstrations or violence. The deputies who had launched the Revolution and who had
led the nation successfully through so many previous difficulties
continued to command enormous respect and prestige among the
provincial patriots-much to the frustration of the Parisian radicals
and the Cordeliers Club.

Yet a great many citizens had clearly agonized over the issues at
stake. In their letters to the Assembly, townsmen and local administrators often referred to the speeches of individual deputies,
speeches that had been read, compared, and carefully weighed.
"Robespierre, Vadier, Salle, Duport, and Barnave" was one town's
list-indicating by the choice of speakers that both sides of the debate had been duly considered. Some groups recounted step by
step their entire reasoning process, examining all the possible solutions to the crisis, eliminating those that seemed unworkable, and
then offering their own reflections on the Assembly's final decision.
"There were so many complications!" wrote the electors of one
small town, as they pondered the unprecedented predicament. "The
king seemed guilty, and nevertheless he had legal immunity. How
could he then be accused? How could he be judged?"39

And acceptance of the Assembly's decision was by no means
synonymous with support for the king. Indications of sympathy for
Louis continued to decline precipitously, dropping from 31 percent
of those writing at the beginning of the crisis, to 17 percent during
the interregnum, to a mere 7 percent in the second half of July. By the final period scarcely anyone mentioned the old excuse of "a
good king badly advised." Only a single letter-from a small town
in central France-made reference to the "sacred" character of the
king. To be sure, only one letter in five written after mid-July explicitly condemned Louis. But nearly three-fourths made no mention of him whatsoever.40 Many provincial leaders clearly preferred
to "cover with a veil of silence the sad episode of his flight." The
principal objective of the vast majority of letter writers was to reaffirm their allegiance to the Assembly as the sovereign authority in
the land, the supreme representative of the general will. The deputies were once again praised to the heavens as "fathers of the country" or as heroes modeling themselves on the Romans. Whatever
the previous views of the local patriots-as they announced again
and again-they now felt duty bound to follow the National Assembly: "Obedience is the duty of any good citizen," wrote the Jacobins from a town in northern Brittany, "and we will all now give
the example." Almost everywhere their compatriots agreed: "You
have spoken, and a single cry is heard throughout the land: `It is the
law!' And for this, we are all prepared to die." Even if they had earlier argued for stronger action against the king, "the general will"
had now been determined by the Assembly, and "what had previously been an error, would now become a crime.""

When they did offer commentaries on the political situation and
the Assembly's decision, most correspondents spoke far less of their
love for the monarch or the monarchy than of their fear of a republic and of their anger over the "seditious" actions of the republicans
in Paris. They returned repeatedly to the arguments of the National
Assembly itself-many of them attributed to various philosophers
from Montesquieu to Rousseau-that a republic would be impractical and unworkable in France. Such a government was perhaps feasible in small city-states, like those in Switzerland or ancient Greece;
but in a large nation it might easily lead to disorganization and
chaos. "This country is too vast ever to be turned into a republic.
Sooner or later the neighboring powers would attempt to pick away
at its pieces." Those proposing a republic had considered "neither the lessons of experience, nor the moral of history, nor the possible
results, nor the facts of French customs, population, geography, and
attitudes." "We believe that in a nation weighed down with an immense population, there must be a center of unity, a single site of
supreme executive authority, from which, with the lever of the
kingship-like a new Archimedes-all the vast estates of the nation
can be moved.""

Many French citizens seemed fearful of the internal chaos that
might arise in France if the Assembly were to tamper with the monarchy. For the most part, the Parisian protest movements received a
decidedly negative reception in the provinces. There were numerous references to the sedition of the Parisian crowds, events that
seemed to demonstrate only too clearly the dangers of placing
power in the hands of the people in the absence of a single central
authority. "The petition of the citizens of Paris made us tremble
with indignation"; "Our hearts were filled with anxiety. We feared
that under the pressure of this tumultuous crowd, incorrectly called
`the voice of the nation,' you might have been forced to sacrifice
your principles." There were endless condemnations of "the abyss
of anarchy," of "the frightful scourge of anarchy," of "the fury of
the common people who have gone astray."43 Many provincials
shared the deputies' suspicions that protest in the capital was being
incited by counterrevolutionaries or foreign powers, conspiring to
bring down the constitution. "Hidden behind the mask of patriotism, such conspirators seek only to infect us with the disease of
discord." "The license of anarchy" had been promoted by "monsters," by "traitors and refractory priests," by enemies of the state
who were "clothing themselves in the mantle of patriotism in order
to overthrow the constitution and push the nation into chaos. "14

A small minority of the provincial groups sending in lettersperhaps one in eight-suggested that they were not entirely happy
with the Assembly's decision, even though they were ultimately
persuaded to adhere to that decision.45 In some cases local citizens
had initially opposed the decrees and had been won over only after
carefully reading the debates. "If we had followed our hearts," wrote one corps of officials with disarming frankness, "a decision
to act against the king would have been clear. But Legislators are
compelled to resist the emotions to which ordinary men so easily
succumb." In the end, the Assembly had convinced them that a constitutional monarchy was the only system capable of "maintaining
the energy and unity necessary for the stability of a large nation
and providing an insurmountable wall against the influence of factions." Another group of citizens agreed: "After the king had responded to our love and confidence with the violation of his most
sacred commitments, we all hoped the tribunal of the nation would
rule against the crime." But the Assembly "has risen above the
considerations and the passions of the moment and has delivered,
through its decree of July 15, a new pronouncement on the fundamental laws of the nation." The leaders of a small village near Bordeaux were more blunt: "At first we disapproved of your decree,
considering it to be at odds with your principles." But after long reflection, they concluded that "we would rather be burdened with a
king who is worthless and deceitful, than be forced to face the horrors of civil and foreign war."46

Others declared their adherence to the laws even while emphasizing their profound skepticism with regard to the Assembly's decision. In the view of officials in the Breton seaport of Brest, the
country would now be placed in the hands of "someone who,
through his flight and his declaration, has revealed himself to be
our greatest enemy." Another town in Brittany agreed to accept
Louis as their king "only because we are ordered to do so by the
law." And leaders in Montpellier, who had so vigorously pushed a
republic, accepted the decrees with a touch of cynicism: "In society," they reflected, "man can choose only between different sets of
chains." In the present situation, they had no option but to place
themselves "beneath the honorable and salutary yoke of the law." A
few groups made it clear that their adherence to the Assembly's decrees was conditional and contingent on the good behavior of the
king. They would accept Louis "only as long as he continues to use
his powers to maintain the constitution," only as long as he recog nizes that a king "is intended to serve the people and not the people
him." And a handful sharply criticized the Assembly. The Jacobins
of Perigueux were far from certain that the recent decrees "conform to the cry of conscience and to the general will of the nation."
They warned the deputies never to forget that "you are only the organ of the people's will." If they wished to be obeyed in the future,
they must not lose sight of the importance of "maintaining the universal confidence" of the people. Indeed, close to a dozen groups of
respondents agreed to accept the decrees only if the Assembly
would immediately see to its own replacement. It was high time that
the deputies returned home and let others take their place. Otherwise, as one town warned bluntly, "your persistence might be mistaken for obstination."47

Louis XVI's FLIGHT to Varennes had shaken French provincial society to its very roots. By the end of the interregnum period,
and after intense debates, opinion had turned decisively against the
reigning monarch. Rhetoric at least as virulent as that emanating
from Paris had spread across the land. Although only a small minority of towns had taken a collective stance in favor of deposing
the king or creating a republic, individual converts to such positions
had emerged and had pushed their views in almost every region of
the kingdom. Everywhere people had debated the idea and considered the possibility of a fundamental change in the basis of government-even when such a change was ultimately rejected by the majority. A large proportion of all groups sending in statements of
adherence indicated, implicitly or explicitly, that they were prepared
to abide by the deputies' decision, even if that decision involved the
permanent assumption of power by the Assembly itself. Indeed, not
a single letter condemned the Assembly's suspension of the king on
June 21. When, fourteen months later, a new National Convention
would create a republic, a great many French people, in the provinces as in Paris, would already have reflected on the possibility of
living in a France without the present king, and perhaps without
any king at all.

As FRENCH MEN AND WOMEN in the provinces ended their debates
on the fate of the king, a wave of repression was engulfing the city
of Paris. For more than a week after the shootings at the Champ de
Mars, the red flag of martial law continued to fly above the city
hall. The moderate patriots dominating the National Assembly pursued their attack against all those perceived as republican "troublemakers." To strengthen the repression, the deputies rushed through
a new antiriot decree. Harsh penalties were imposed on anyone
thought to have incited violence through their words or their writings. The law was even drafted to take effect retroactively, targeting
actions committed during and before the July 17 demonstration.'
Only three days earlier, many of the same legislators had argued
the illegality of retroactive penalties proposed against the king.