M. Bessard's "L'Assemblée Nationale Vengée, ou, La Résurrection de l'Empire Français," 1790. Translated into English by M. Shultz
"The National Assembly Avenged, or, the Resurrection of the French Empire"
L'Assemblée Nationale Vengée, ou, La Résurrection de l'Empire Français
The National Assembly Avenged, or, the Resurrection of the French Empire
Penned by M. Bessard, a medical student, 1790
Translated with great care and curiosity, by M. Shultz, 2024
*Note from the translator:
Using every available resource to study each historical event and persons mentioned, I believe the following translation to be comprehensive and well-aligned to the original author’s intent. It is an honor to provide the first English translation of such a beautifully written work of passion.
Thank you,
M. Shultz
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Nature offers to our eyes a constantly recurring spectacle of vicissitudes and phenomena. A thousand physical and moral causes work together or separately to vary the face of the universe. Each century sees the emergence of a new order of things; the least anticipated events come true, while the best concerted projects disappear, empires succeed empires: tyranny rises on the remains of freedom, freedom on the remains of tyranny. People pass successively from light to darkness, from darkness to light.
The abuse of conquests, luxury, excess wealth, depravity of morals, in concert with a thousand hidden sources, extinguish the sacred fire of patriotism, and engender all vices. The chain that links particular interests to the public interest dissolves: each individual separates his existence from the general mass; despotism appears with its ugly head, his arm extends and becomes heavier; its destructive breath puts the arts and virtues to flight. The first laws of nature are ignored and trampled underfoot: humanity, crushed, degraded under a rod of iron, groans and remains silent. The human spirit enveloped in a crude atmosphere becomes obliterated and stupid. This violent crisis persists until chance or time brings some shock which produces a salutary revolution: then the cloud which the truth hid, dissipates, the voice of philosophy makes itself heard; reason wakes up and regains its rights; like cloudy and muddy water which after a long rest deposits the silt it contained, man frees himself from the prejudices and darkness which blind him.
Love of the homeland is reborn in all hearts: it forms against the enemy of the state, a league supported by the frequent abuses of authority, and by the inseparable faults of a government which constantly tends towards its destruction; the revolt is announced by waves of blood, and the monster struck on his throne comes to shatter against the standard of freedom. Such has generally been the gradual march of all peoples who have borne and shaken off in turn the yoke of servitude.
Heaven did not destine France for lesser revolutions; each page of her annals is a monument of the different periods that she traveled before arriving at [the] creation which is taking place today in its bosom; free and independent under its early kings, France enjoyed the right to assemble in the Champ de Mars, to deliberate on capital affairs, this right was alternately usurped and returned to it; it was deprived of it. Defiled in these times of ignorance and barbarism, where [France] saw all the powers pass into the hands of the leaders who governed her. This dark night in which [the nation] was immersed was signaled by a few lightning bolts which barely left traces of their passage.
Louis XII caused the people to forget the bloodthirsty reign of his predecessor. At the voice of François I, letters awoke and emerged from the chaos, only to fall back into it again during the wars of religion. The Medici, coming from Italy, brought with them the germ of arts and plagues. The model of sovereigns, Henry IV, wiped away the tears of the French, and brought to life the fabulous days of the last century. Richelieu, by lowering the great, did nothing for the happiness of the people.
The next age showed itself in broad strokes; the knowledge of the human mind rose to a degree that it had not yet known. We saw the birth of this mass of light whose brilliance still shines. Louis XIV astonished Europe with the brilliance of his qualities and his faults; his vanity gave rise to ruinous wars; he crushed his subjects with the weight of his pride. It was then that this enormous debt was formed whose incalculable progress has resurrected the evils that came out of Pandora's box.
We will always be surprised that, from the multitude of sublime geniuses that illustrated the seventeenth century, not one dared to claim the inalienable rights of nations; all debased themselves through the outrageous praise they lavished on the monarch who chained them.
Great men are accountable to society for the use of their talents; nature does not form them without design: their mission is to proclaim the truth and to be useful to their fellow men. It is a sacred debt that they contract when they come into existence, and neither promises, nor threats, nor favors, nor torture can exempt them from it.
From that time until nearly the present day, things have always gone from bad to worse. Let's pause for a moment over these days of disgrace and desolation, shedding tears over the fate of human nature. It is time to uncover the hideous face of the Vulture that devours our entrails as the veil is torn, exposing the reins of the empire entrusted to women, who attained this guilty honor through the path of ignominy; the throne prey to the maneuvers of intrigue and closed to the truth, the court insulting public calamities with its luxury and pleasures, rewards and dignities prostituted to baseness, and refused based on merit, the royal treasure delivered to the pillage and depredations of its administrators, state revenues devoured by this swarm of pensions motivated by causes that should have excluded them, the taxman, this hide with a hundred heads, coldly calculating the sweat and rags of misery, putting into contribution the first needs of nature, and selling to the unfortunate the right to live and breathe.
A delirious minister, distributing closed letters by the weight of gold, an infernal instrument of arbitrary vengeance, is thus trafficking in the life and freedom of French citizens; sons are torn from the bosom of grieving families to serve a homeland they did not choose, thousands of men are sacrificed to the whim of an imperious master, the monster of feudalism spreads devastation and despair, unfair and antisocial distinctions, communes are crushed under the burden of taxes, degraded by barbaric prejudices, removed from all honorary jobs, and condemned by birth to ignoble professions, the powerful escape the vengeance of the laws, and the plebeians are punished under the slightest suspicion; the most sacred properties have become the prey of greedy usurpers with goodness exiled from all hearts, and France on all sides presents as nothing but ruins and tatters.
The pen tires of tracing such horrors; indifference itself cannot defend itself from a feeling of indignation. At the sight of so many outrages done to humanity, the wise man would be tempted to exclaim with Brutus, “Virtue, you are only an empty name?”
These are the scourges which weighed on our heads, and which were further strengthened by a religious veil. Blind or deceitful priests maintained, by abusing certain passages from Genesis and from Saint Paul, that kings only hold their crown from heaven, that it is only to heaven that they are accountable of their actions, and that no pretext may legitimize the disobedience of their subjects. This is how we have degraded the most beautiful of all morals, if it could ever be so.
Sublime author of the gospel, did you consider that your morality, which preaches equality everywhere, would one day serve to consecrate these frightening maxims? By what fatality have the most holy things continually been disguised as scandalous numens and prostitutes with the most criminal uses? Could the fate of all religions therefore be to perpetuate the misfortunes of the universe? Throughout time, religion has served as a formidable weapon for usurpers, either to fortify themselves or to make their empire less odious; they brought down their authority from above, and thus did not fear associating the deity with their attacks. Perish the profane being who deceives his fellow men in favor of a sacred name!
Peoples of the earth, overthrow the altar of error, which holds you back in captivity! What god could ever make it a crime for men to reclaim the rights he had given them? Ah! If anyone deserves [His] indignation, it is the tyrant who oppresses, and not the one who dethrones his tyrant. All these abuses are destined to come to an end; the time marked for their destruction is approaching. There is a term where people weary of the yoke, and blush at their irons. The French touched on this term.
Great writers - Montesquieu, J.J. Rousseau, Voltaire and Raynal - in preparation to bring about a revolution in minds, smoothed out the road that had to be taken. In every mind, their republican maxims grew. The empire of reason steps forward in their footsteps: their works are resurrected from the ashes of their wood as open arsenals where weapons continue to be drawn against despotism. The fermentation spread from one place to another and became general.
Human rights were deepened and well-known; philosophy, , by carrying its torch to the origin of society, had revealed the vices of the present administration; the dissolution of the social pact was not so great a problem, save for the ignorant or the Pyrrhonians. We proclaimed everywhere that the chain which linked the subjects to their sovereigns, was broken, since [the chains] canceled the contract on which their respective rights rested.
The fire smolders under the ashes, and does not wait. It requires only one circumstance to develop and produce an explosion. All forces united still found favorable support in the shortage of the public treasury. A powerful cabal seconded the sinister aims of Calonne. This man, once a quartermaster of Douai, was destined to be a minister; his conduct did not take long to justify the expectation that we had conceived of it. he finances slipped from his hands; he was the wolf turned shepherd—in vain, to cover his depredations, he convened at great expense this assembly of notables from which we are still gathering the fruits.
His project suffered the fate that was due to it. The remedies he indicated were judged more fatal than evil itself. The confession of the deficit circulated and alarm spread among the people, the murmur passed from the capital to the provinces and the prevaricating minister, charged with public execration, ran to bosom of England; hide your shame and know your crimes; it is then a matter of form.
Announced by lightening, the famous Diarchy appeared. This monster made a game of breaking all barriers, and violating all laws; he sharpened his daggers, and struck. His blows, sustained by the violence of weapons, revolted and did not frighten; resistance was sealed by the blood of many. Several citizens, as well as Brienne and Lamoignon succumbed in turn. If the communes seemed to maintain a sort of neutrality in this ministerial and parliamentary struggle, it was not because they approved the legislation of May 8; they recognized in it the imprint of arbitrariness.
Would those titles have been able to interfere in an affair that was absolutely foreign to them? What did it matter to them on which side victory turned, since their fate could not become any better? It was, therefore, in their interest to let their enemies weaken and mutually destroy each other. Here begins a new order of things; destiny of the French empire rises and expands, the dawn of a prosperous day beautifies nature.
The desire of nations, the redemption of Israel, has come; error flees; the reign of equality reappears: man, on par with the dignity of his being, proudly raises his head and sees no one but his equal in the one he praised. The era of equality resurfaces: man, on par with the dignity of his being, proudly lifts his head, and sees no one but his equal in the one he praised. The era of the Estates-General is irrevocably fixed.
Aristides, recalled from his honorable exile, resumes the helm of government: freedom emerges from its ruins and advances through the crimes and pitfalls which arise under its feet; hope and valor rally around its cradle; victory has already been arranged under its standards. The fire lit within Brittany is spreads rapidly.
Passions clash and clarify; complaints arise from all sides; the voice of justice reaches the foot of the throne, and the communes secure double representation. At the sound of these initial triumphs, the anti-popular party becomes alarmed and rings the tocsin; cries for the overturning of laws and the destruction of the monarchy ensue. Patriotism is labeled as sedition, and the most virtuous citizens are denounced as dangerous innovators, akin to new Cromwells; these false allegations are scandalously embraced by five princes of the blood. The aristocracy, proud of this reinforcement, forges its thunderbolts and hurls them at the head of the finance minister.
Like a rock against which the waves of the raging sea wildly crash, the illustrious Necker stands alone, resisting the conspiratorial assaults of the league; his conscience serves as a shield against the storm. If slander distorts the purity of his intentions, he retreats into his heart, and content with himself, he regards his enemies with pity and forgives them. Virtue, this is your triumph, and the reward is inseparable from it. The effect of these oppositions must have been that of a spirituous liquor which is used to extinguish a fire, and which serves as food: also the ardor of the patriots does not slow down; far from it, it needs only a moment.
They were prepared for stubborn resistance and perilous combats; they knew that to recover their rights, they had to be forcefully wrested: they knew that pride is never humiliated with impunity, that freedom, once it is lost, takes refuge at the bottom of a precipice, at which point it is only in the middle of the carnage and the burning that it can be found.
All of these considerations are put in parallel with the horrors of servitude and bondage, but, let us be not afraid. The eyes of the world have seen Switzerland and Anglo-America; moreover, if on one side they have to fear the shock of intrigue and authority combined, on the other they count in their favor the justice of their cause — their strength & their virtues. The eyes of Europe, attentive to great events, continue to support their courage. Finally determined to take chances, they are waiting with resignation for victory or death.
When pagan philosophy painted the struggling of the righteous in the face of adversity as the most beautiful spectacle on earth, he had undoubtedly forgotten people who, oppressed, resist persecution. Such was the state of affairs at the arrival of April 27th; we should hardly expect to see calm reigning in the États-Généraux amidst so much unrest and dissension. The two parties could barely be in the presence of one another without a conflict igniting.
If we initially tried for conciliation, it was only for the sake of form; in reality, it was impossible to assign a meeting point for diametrically opposed interests If we initially participated in efforts tried at conciliation, it was only for the sake of form; in reality, it was impossible to assign a meeting point for diametrically opposed interests.
The privileged Castes, determined not to weaken, and entrenched behind that which they wanted to introduce, hoped, with the help of this palladium, to annihilate all the operations which would harm them: to impose more, they had put this veto under the safeguard of the oath; but this ruse does not work for them; this maneuver, however, did not succeed for them.
The House of Commons, unworthy of such indecency, finally determined to wield its power; constituting itself as l’assemblée nationale, enacting laws. This act of vigor did not fail to astonish the aristocrats; they hastily set up their defenses and activated all the covert mechanisms of intrigue. They immediately set up their batteries, and put into play all the twisted means of intrigue. The lie, under the imposing mask of the truth, humbly approaches the throne, surprises the religion of the best of kings, compromises its dignity in the scandalous session of June 23, and confidently declares the nullification of the decrees of l’assemblée nationale, as if the absence of two small corporations could invalidate these decrees, as if there existed a power superior to that of the nation, as if freedom itself did not prohibit such abuses of authority; never, perhaps, have we seen a more striking contrast than in this memorable session.
The heart of Henri's grandson, not agreeing with his expressions, seemed to rise against the edicts that had been dictated to him: it was the language of Nero in the mouth of Titus. If the league triumphed in this circumstance, it did not have long to congratulate itself on its laurels. The representatives of the communes displayed that courage superior to setbacks, which governs fortune and which astonishes audacity itself; they protested against the violence of the court which condemned them, and demonstrated its incompetence; the fetters meant to chain them fell before their resistance, and the reunion of all the orders took place to the great displeasure of the aristocrats.
But all these scenes were only the preliminaries to the forming storm. While the national assembly worked for the happiness of France, cowardly conspirators worked for its destruction. It was then that the darkest project that ever emerged from hell was born; the human heart had not yet reached this period of perversity. May our great-nephews, for the honor of humanity, cast doubt on the existence of this infamous plot!
Tremble however, unhappy Parisians, while you sleep on the faith of the oaths. The enemy is at your gates, the flame is in your walls; you are warming within your bosom the serpent that is destined to strike you. These troops which surround you, these troops which form the basis of your security, these troops which you supply at the expense of your lives, these troops are only the servile instruments of your enemies. It is the horse of the Greeks which contains carnage and death in its lances. They are deceiving you, those who tell you that they were only introduced to ensure your preservation.
They deceive you, those who announce peace to you and who make a crime of distrust; they are new Sinons, who hide lies and perfidy under the mask of benevolence. Hurry to tear down the monuments of your own ruin; prevent the danger that threatens you; the precipice is open under your feet. Necker, the idol of the French, has already succumbed. Alas! Virtue is often only an impotent weapon against the efforts of the wicked. It is on the denunciation of a lover that the torture of Mordecai is resolved; It is through the traits of envy that Sully sees himself deprived of his master's esteem and friendship.
The authors of these setbacks smiled at their work. Their homicidal wishes hastened the night which was to lend its shadow to their crimes. The heads of the victims were already marked, and the executioners, dagger in hand, were only waiting for the moment of the signal to strike. That disastrous night was about to reappear, leaving an indelible stain on the reign of Medici; to witness the child suffocated in his cradle, the wife murdered on the body of her husband, the son dying before the eyes of his distraught mother, the old man with white hair dragged through the dust, discord shaking its incendiary torches everywhere, weapons and fear circulating with crime, temples violated and profaned, the pale and trembling girl struggling in vain in the arms of her cowardly abductor, the aziles1 of virginity, delivered to the discretion of an insolent soldier.
Paris, this celebrated city, which the arts and twenty centuries have beautified, was about to present the spectacle of Persepolis in flames, and the flame had barely left the interval of a day between the capital of the universe and a heap of ashes. Such were the festivities that bloodthirsty monsters were preparing for Europe; one's hair still bristles at this memory, as if transported back to the reign of Tiberius or Caligula. However, the one who holds the destiny of empires in his hand ordained it differently; in his wisdom, he had proscribed the plot as well as its authors.
The French Laocoon,2 anticipating the destination of the troops quartered around Paris, was destined to have the glory of eloquently saving the country. Such as Cicero foresaw the conspiracy of Catiline. Hardly is the conspiracy revealed when the traitors, disconcerted, betray themselves; the people rush to arms. The stronghold of arbitrary tyranny3 falls under the blows of patriotism, exposing to the broad daylight the horrors it concealed. Delaunay, Foulon, Flessel, and Bertbier, abandoned to the fury of a sanguinary but just populace, undergo the fate of Ahab and Jezebel: their pale and hideous heads, suspended at the end of a pike, are paraded in triumph; their torn limbs, soiled in the mud, become the prey of animals.
Let us throw the veil of oblivion over the memory of these unfortunate culprits; they no longer exist. Let no ignominy attach to their ashes. Death, like strong water, must remove the stains of those it strikes. Curse the vindictive soul that extends its hatred beyond the tomb, but may lightning strike down a Lambeso, a Broglie, and all the accomplices of these vile beings, who now roam as fugitives, bearing the shame of their treachery everywhere. In vain would they seek refuge in the alleged orders they claim to be custodians of; these supposed directives provide no genuine defense.
They had sought after and taken hold of those orders, and proof to the contrary would not yet justify them. No power outside the law has the right to order the murder of a citizen. Any order which contravenes conscience and honor, from whatever place it emanates, must be infringed and condemned; and yet, ministerial vendettas, the prince's lingering resentment — Coward, what news do you bring us? And do you value your duty as nothing? Need you examples? Cast your glance upon the Viscount d’Orse and Crillon; have these heroes debased themselves by resisting the will of their masters?4
If Turenne5 consented to the devastation of the Palatinate, know that it's not the most noble act attributed to him. Do you then believe you are paying too dearly for the approval of your heart and that of future generations with the fleeting plea of a moment? The crown of martyrdom awaits you; the homeland is at your feet, imploring you to accept it, and still, you can hesitate?
Go, run and offer your head to the sword of the despot, and disobey. — And you, who honor the throne, what were you doing while infamous assassins abused your name to slaughter your subjects? Tranquil in your palace, you were probably feasting on the spectacle of your virtues; your noble soul was far from suspecting the precipice being dug beneath your steps. Endure the truth, since you are so worthy. If the genius that watches over France had not preserved it from the snares set for it, your reign would have been placed alongside the abhorred reigns of Charles IX and Louis XI.
Posterity does not spare the memory of sovereigns; it summons them to its tribunal and judges them impartially. The purity of your heart would truly have objected to its judgments; the ruins of your empire would have testified against you, and only divinity would have applauded your intentions because only it would have known them. You now mourn our disasters; ah! Return to joy; your kindness has repaired them all.
How contemptible the perfidious counselors who misled your justice must be in your eyes; they depicted your people as the enemy of your crown, and it is they who served as your bulwark against them. They will seek to deceive you again; but beware of lending an ear to anyone who slanders a nation that adores you, and whose happiness is inseparable from yours. Oh, the misery of kings! Playthings of error, they commit crimes, all the while believing they do so for the sake of justice. For the happiness of the human race, with an upright soul, they ought to receive from heaven the privilege of being impervious to deception.
When one gazes upon the outcome of the scenes of July 15th last, one cannot help but acknowledge the existence of an unseen hand that turns the weapons intended for harm into a boon for innocence. How else could a conspiracy, woven in the shadows of mystery, conducted with all the art of human prudence, and supported by numerous cohorts of armed satellites; how, I ask, could it fail at the moment of its execution? How did it hasten our regeneration while seeking to annihilate us?
This is how nature ensures its conservation through these frightening phenomena which seem to destroy it. We admired you then, eloquent Tollendal; you seemed ablaze with the love of the public good when your brush outlined the virtues of the hero6 we mourned, whom heaven has finally granted to our wishes. We delighted in counting you among our most ardent defenders. Why have your laurels turned into cypresses? Why have you abandoned the path you so gloriously entered? Ah! What has your country done to you to turn you against it? Saul, Saul why do you persecute me?
Let's close the curtain on the course of abuses that followed our victories. These transient excesses are like the sea waves that, even after the storm, continue to crash against the mountaintops, to afterwards only peacefully recede into their depths. Seldom does Good walk alone. It is difficult for a people who suddenly emerge from slavery to discern the line that separates freedom from license. It’s hard for them not to surpass the bounds of moderation once unleashed in the face of those who almost suffocated them.
Who knows if, in such circumstances, even the wise would maintain the coolness of reason? But dwelling too much on the tableau of our setbacks is excessive; let's forget them in view of our laurels.7 Could we know any sentiments other than that of joy when a storm which was formed to drive Louis away, has irrevocably established him among us? How do obscure commentators, paid to be the echoes of the aristocracy, dare to equate the monarch's relocation to Paris with a simulated and offensive abduction against the dignity of Kings?
Will slander never tire of poisoning that which it ought to respect? Will the purest intentions, the most innocent actions always, in its eyes, bear the hue of conspiracies and misdeeds? Is it an affront to the dignity of Kings to invite them to depart from a place dedicated to falsehood and error? Is it an affront to the dignity of Kings to position them in a residence impervious to flattery and open on all sides to the truth? Can a father be considered a captive among his children? What better place could he be than in the bosom of a family that adores him and defends him against his enemies?
Should he imitate the despots of Asia, constantly immersed in the pleasures of a seraglio, dependent on the cruelty of a Visir to control their subjects and never reveal themselves except through an prismatic veil? They tremble at the thought that a closer scrutiny might unveil the imperfections of the idol, putting it at risk of ruin. But does the leader of a free nation need to erect a wall between his subjects and himself? Is it not in their hearts that his empire is established?
Any power that subsists through fear collapses sooner or later. It is only one step from fear to hatred, and from hatred to insurrection. But that power which is based on love never ends. So far, we have seen patriotism emerge victorious in the face of all the attacks leveled against it; the multitude of obstacles that were placed before it only gave new brilliance to its triumph, and its enemies appear to be dying beneath their ruins. That said, let us be wary of the apparent calm that surrounds us. May the perils of the past serve as a preservative against the perils of the future.
Pride is never defeated as long as the slightest trace of its existence remains; it is the phoenix that rises from the ashes. The aristocracy will gather its scattered debris and try to wage new battles. They sharpen their features and imagine some Trojan night. Should we not acknowledge the hand of Providence in the departure of those National Assembly members who, despite swearing sacred oaths, chose to abandon their duties? How can we analyze the orchestrated rebellion of almost all our parliaments? What lens should we use to scrutinize these intermediary bodies, consistently deviating from the principles envisioned by [président à mortier] Montesquieu?8
While the thunderbolts of Rome were wielded with wisdom and restraint, they were respected. Once transformed into instruments of revenge and unrestrained passions, they fell into contempt. The parliaments, following this precedent, should have anticipated a similar fate. And who are they to resist the decrees of the Nation? Do they believe they still exist in those lamentable times when, under the hypocritical pretext of maintaining balance between the throne and the people, both were oppressed?
Their illegitimate reign has come to an end. This insubordination is, indeed, the last gasp of an aged, dying authority returning to the dust. But should the laws remain silent in the face of these national crimes? Wouldn’t impunity seem to invite recidivism? Would the sword of Justice still waver before the head of an illustrious culprit? Would we like to consecrate the prejudices under which we have groaned for so long? Let us strip the great of the false brilliance with which our ignorance had clothed them. Let us respect them, if they have virtues — but let us not forget that they were the oppressors of our fathers, and that they would perhaps be ours, if given the opportunity.
What have we to fear from their empty resentment? Will it not fall against the unity of the commons, against that rock which witnessed its shipwreck so many times before? Let us rally under the banner of this union that strengthens empires. It is under this guidance of unity that Greece triumphed over the formidable armies of the Persian Kings. Reject the despotic idea that division leads to power. This unfortunate lesson has been proven too many times; “divide and conquer.” Unfortunate Indians, it was division that caused your loss, being the victorious weapon the Europeans employed against you when they entered your lands. From now on, let unity be our supreme law. May all hearts be animated by the sole love of the well-being of the public, and let all distinct identities converge into that of the French.
Take heed so as to not be the plaything of these petty rivalries and shameful jealousies, which always denote a low and corrupted soul. The man who thinks, as one of our patriot fathers has said, sees in his leader only the law that commands.9 Should France, which, for so many reasons, strides equal to Sparta, still envy Pédarete?10 Certainly not. All her children will eagerly clear the thorny path that leads to the goal we aspire to. Blind and ill-intentioned minds consider this goal to be the culmination of our woes.
Could it then be true that there are beings unfortunate enough not to feel the value of independence? Could it be true that there are beings unjust enough to dispute the present revolution's benefits and usefulness? What have I to say to such beings? — I say to go and grovel in darkness and shame; prostrate yourselves under the rod of a master who despises you. Go, run toward the chains that degrade you; prefer a shameful servitude to the glorious condition of a free man; willingly degrade our sublime character. You are not made to raise your eyes above your irons. But do not assimilate your existence to ours; the distance that separates them is immense. Blood has been shed, but let it continue to flow rather than succumbing to the deathly state in which you find yourselves. Rather bloodshed than the perversion of the constitution, which secures our rights and freedoms.
I would say to others: what language do you dare to speak to us?! By what sign will we now know the line that differentiates good from evil? Confound all received ideas, change, distort the essence of things, paint objects in a reversed order, give truth the imprint of error, and error the imprint of truth; only at this cost will we lament the old regime we left behind; only at this cost will we regret the time when the nobles, condescending from the heights of their pride to the humble commoner, barely let fall a glance at his misery. In their minds it would be beneath them to acknowledge or recognize the corporeality of the common man’s life of hardship, sacrificed for their own sake. For now, let us cherish the benefits bestowed upon us each day by the National Assembly.
Let us shower praises upon the equitable distribution of taxes; it marks the settlement of a long-overdue debt against which justice had long sought redress. Were not all social laws violated by this monstrous tax, which respected the opulence of the rich and powerful and devoured the substance of the poor?
Should we revisit the course of disorders it unleashed?11 Should we portray the widow and the orphan stripped of their possessions and subjected to the horrors of poverty? Should we illustrate an unfortunate father, the sole support of his family, torn from the arms of his children and ignominiously dragged into a dungeon, where the insolvent debtor is confounded with the scoundrel soon to ascend to supremacy? And all these outrages, we had to endure them in silence! The sighs would have been blasphemy, and the complaints, attacks.
Let us praise the decree that opens us all all sides to charge and question; the merit will no longer be without reward. And what right keeps us from going about life with honor? Does not such an exclusion undermine our view of nature, which by casting all men in the same mold, destines them all to the same end? Is there a nobleman who, placed beside a Commons representative,12 might boast of being distinct without the crutch of his titles? The claimed superiority is merely provisional and illusory; it's an encroachment that must be rejected as soon as it becomes detrimental to society. Let us revel in the abolition of venal offices; corruption reaches its peak when gold becomes the vessel of ignorance, raising it to the level of the fleur-de-lis or onto the steps of the throne. Let us despair over the health of the state every time the sword of justice is handed over to magistrates whose only titles are their birth and their riches.
What citizen would not tremble when he saw his fortune and honor entrusted to novice and inexperienced hands? Which citizen should not tremble when approaching these mercenary tribunals, where righteous law is often only a weak weight when weighed against opulent iniquity? How much harm has resulted from these intolerable abuses! How many innocent people still mourn the inexperience of the judges who condemned them! It is you who will dry their tears; it is you whom the nation will henceforth entrust the deposit of its laws. Immune to all prejudice, you will discern the virtues or crimes in the accuser and the ‘accused.’ The outraged and oppressed will eagerly call upon you, and will find in your incorruptibility an assured asylum against the persecutions of the rich.
Let us applaud the permanence of the legislative body; a formidable sentinel, it will continuously safeguard our interests by keeping the ministry within its prescribed limits. Impunity will no longer embolden the agents of executive power to hasten the state's ruin through destructive systems or disorderly extravagance. They will no longer be tempted to use troops meant for defending the homeland against the homeland. We will no longer see their retirement marked by rewards, when it deserves only hatred and contempt. Their heads will answer for their malpractices, and fear will do at least what honor and probity should always do.
We will no longer groan under this feudal regime that bizarreness and cruelty seem to have simultaneously established.13
How can we characterize these laws, which authorized the pleasures of a lord at the expense of agriculture, and which punished the plebeian for not having respected the game which ravaged his harvest? Can they condemn the deeds of the commoner without employing all their severity against the deeds of the lord? Since when does the distinction between persons influence the natural order of things? Since when would some be permitted to harm their fellow men, while others would be forbidden to make the slightest attack on the obstacles which harm them? Are such institutions not a manifest violation of international law?
Let us still applaud the annihilation of these penal distinctions, which degrade the Commons. There will no longer be the barbaric prejudice which tainted a family of innocents with a guilty member, and which struck unborn generations with a true civil death; as if the son should be responsible for his father's crimes! As if it were the punishment, and not the crime, that gave rise to shame!
Above all, let us rejoice at no longer being subjected to “lettres de cachet”: who could calculate the number of their victims? Who would have dared to hope to escape this terrible weapon? Displeased with men in office, we were immediately sacrificed to his resentment; incurring the hatred of a minister could one to clandestinely disappear from the bosom of society. If one had greedy and scheming heirs, they would find themselves completely buried in this abyss14 which never lets go of its prey; the husband kidnapped next to his wife in the very arms of sleep. All these atrocities were the work of the lettres de cachet! And young writers have not blushed to risk apologizing for it. It is therefore true that there is no opinion so absurd that does not have its supporters. It’s incredulous that some consider violence that arbitrarily disposes of citizens' lives as a beneficial institution that must be preserved and advocated! xents a startling paradox, born only from a subservient or delirious imagination!
In which category should we still place the reform of this criminal jurisprudence, which liked to find a guilty person in an accused one? It is this that led Silvin, Langlade, Montbailly, Calas, and so many other innocents to the scaffold, whose blood still smokes and will eternally testify against the barbarity of our ancient laws. Martyrs, dear to humanity, console yourselves; your torments are over, and our regrets are not. Disgrace does not attach itself to virtue; the pillories that illustrated your suffering have become monuments erected to your glory; your blessed names will be passed from mouth to mouth, soliciting tears even from our last descendants; may your souls rejoice today in their tomb; The assemblée nationale presents to them, as a solemn sacrifice, the abolition of this oppressive legal procedure of which you were victims, and this can undoubtedly be considered the only adequate solution.
France, adorn the busts of your illustrious representatives with garlands of flowers: they have not set limits to their benefits; they have not set any limits to your gratitude; they acquired you by the sole effort of their combined knowledge and firmness, goods which until now had always cost floods of tears and blood; However, they are denounced to you as liars, who, contemptuous of your orders, raise patriotism over the debris with which they surround themselves, and dare to lay sacrilegious hands even on the sacred person of your king!
It is not enough to declare them responsible for the kind of anarchy which has desolated this kingdom; they offer you yet another dagger, they reveal their breast to you, and they embolden you to strike! How many times, I ask you, have you seen them violate their mandates and receive laws only from their own will? Remember that memorable night when the privileges specific to each province were merged into a single system, making France one large and united family: Did they subscribe to the sacrifice of your immunities without first obtaining new powers that would nullify those you had previously given? They mention decrees they issued, although they had no specific orders for that purpose, but haven't you subsequently ratified those decrees? Don't they work to your advantage? Aren't they stamped with the same wisdom that has produced all the others? If you omitted them from your cahiers, it's either because you were then unaware of the full extent of your rights or because you didn't dare to claim them all. Do your representatives aspire to permanent authority when, after a legislature, they return to your midst and merge into the lowest class of plebeians?
Have they ever contested your right to recall and depose them? Can you make a crime of them voting for a contribution of a quarter of your income? Such a contribution has no effect on those who are most unfortunate. Wasn't it another means to prevent a bankruptcy that would have greatly debased you? If they had resorted to taking loans, wasn't it to cover payments whose suspension would have led to significant inconveniences? Have they threatened the life of your sovereign by saving it twice? Have they turned him into a king of theater by placing him among you, preserving his power, and shielding him from his executioners? Ask the benevolent king himself; he will tell you that he has only known happiness since he dwells among his subjects; he will tell you that the loss of some vain usurped prerogatives, the abuse of which poisoned the enjoyment, is well redeemed by the portrayal of a flourishing and rejuvenated empire.
The disorders that surround you, exaggerated by the aristocracy, are they not inseparable from the reform that is taking place? Is it possible to eliminate so many abuses, uproot so many prejudices without giving rise to some disturbances, to some fleeting clouds? And would you have experienced these disturbances and fleeting clouds if they had not been incited by the maneuvers of a league determined to bring about your ruin?
It is they who, nursing the hope of realizing a counter-revolution, flatter themselves with the idea of annihilating you through your own actions. It is they who, at this very moment, lay trap upon trap and commit crime after crime to revive a conspiracy whose remnants nearly crushed you. It is they who turn against your liberators, taking advantage of the benefits they provide and the harms they inflict. It is they who dare to reproach them for the escape of some of their followers, as if, even if the accusation were true, they could be censured for purging you of a multitude of wrongdoers poisoning the air you breathe. It is they who invite you to dissolve the assemblée nationale and trample upon its decrees. Finally, it is they who implore you to replace your august deputies with immoral and immodest men, who, upon being entrusted with your interests, would eagerly sacrifice and betray them.
Furthermore, this perfidious advice is addressed to you in printed libels, the rapid propagation of which alarms all honest souls. How much longer will the press lament withering denunciations against patriotism and virtue? How much longer will it serve as a vehicle for Terror and an arsenal of wickedness? If the satire can thus vary and multiply its features; if it can bestow upon them brilliance and authenticity with impunity, what barrier will oppose it henceforth? It will surpass all limits and spread its ravages everywhere. The most solidly established reputations would fall and nothing would be respected, arresting the righteous man in the midst of his good deeds and frightening him in his home. Will the laws not therefore arm themselves against these revolting abuses?
Will they not thunder down upon these slanderous productions which reach us under imposing denominations, under the title of ‘the beautiful torch of the people.’ Is it possible to abuse the terms more strangely? Fatal torch, go and carry your homicidal rays elsewhere; they would shine in our eyes only to blind us; only to plunge us into the abyss. Like lightning, they strike dead all those they can reach.
Oh, my dear fellow citizens, be on guard against the surprises they might attempt on you. Time is pressing; unite your forces; save the republic or die with it. Know that if the assemblée nationale is dissolved, your shipwreck is inevitable. All your brilliant hopes will have been nothing but a beautiful dream, and you will have risen so high only to fall back to greater and worse depths; if you annihilate the decrees of the assemblée nationale then you destroy at the same time the titles of your greatness and emancipation. To recall the depositaries of your authority is to voluntarily deprive yourself of your most zealous defenders; it is transferring the sacred Palladium outside of your walls, the presence of which your preservation is infallibly attached.
And this would therefore be the reward that you would reserve for those who restored to you all of your rights? This would therefore be the treaty that would grant you the well-worth correctors of the robinocratic15 power which has oppressed you for so long and which, furious at the funeral being prepared for it, at least wants to collapse with a crash as it struggles in the trances of its death. It is far from taking away your powers, and so, congratulate yourself for having placed them in their hands.
Believe; if there were members within the assemblée nationale who should be excluded from it, they would not be the ones denounced to you. Let it not be said that you served your enemies against your protectors. May posterity not blame you for having missed the opportunity to break your chains and those around the assemblée nationale. Enjoy the double advantage of being the artisans of your destiny and of meriting them.
Assemblée nationale, august Areopagus, which Cinéas would have taken for an assembly of kings, I salute you. It is you who lifted man from the state of enslavement in which he was plunged; it is you who restored his privileges and dignity; it is you who avenged nature for the outrages it suffered; it is you who proscribed those distinctions of orders that chained the multitude under the will of two small corporations.16 It is you who diverted the storms that threatened to erase the trace of our steps. It was you who swept away this swarm of blood-sucking vampires who feed on our existence. It is you who will revive our business by delivering it from the disadvantageous treaties that have been imposed. It is you who will open a new good career to all those whom fate has placed under the influence of the reforms that you have established. You spoke, and order reappeared.
Let time take its toll on the marble and brass which will have created your sessions. These earthly monuments are subject to its power. But the memory of your decrees, engraved in our hearts in indestructible characters, will cross the centuries and will frighten the Jewish despots to the last ages, if any of them still exist. As long as patriotism has altars on earth, we will cherish the memory of Mirabeau, Péthion, Volney, Glezen, Grégoire, Barnave, Abbot Sieyes, Duport, Lanjuinais, Fréteau, and all our other fathers of the fatherland, who were not afraid to expose their heads to support our rights. Illustrious legislators, finish your work; bring to port the vessel that you have governed with so much art, and which has so far triumphed over the conjured winds and waves: a thousand secret and declared enemies hasten to shake the edifice that you are erecting; but the arm that has defeated them so many times will know how to dissipate them again.
How many impudent libelists strive to tarnish your reputation, by lending you their darkness and their character—Pigmies against Hercules. The hatred that drives them reflects on their forehead. The shame they seek to cover themselves with reflects on their faces. It is enough to annihilate them to despise them, whose works have already been condemned by public opinion, wherein the contents of each page are an insult to decency, and each line an insult to truth.17
Are you susceptible to these inflammatory sarcasms where individuals like Broglie, Barentin, Lambesc, and all the detractors of the popular party are lauded? It's commendable to stand in stark contrast to these contemptible figures; it's commendable to incur the reproaches of malevolence by doing good. Delve into your conscience, and it will vindicate you against this lackey of aristocrats who, despite themselves, holds you in esteem.
O you, let Brittany count you with pride among its children! You, who embellish our existence, whom slander pursues, and whom impartiality admires; eloquent Chapelier! Faithful interpreter of the sentiments of your province, you have added new splendor to the Breton name by making it dear to all Frenchmen. What joy will be ours when, freed from the sublime labors that keep you away, you return with your worthy colleagues to receive the civic crown bestowed upon you among us. You will see us running to meet you, strewing flowers in your path. The unfortunate will smile at your sight and call you their benefactor and father. Who, more than you, has earned these respectable titles? Who, more than you, has contributed to the great work of our regeneration? Oh, long-desired regeneration, I salute you! From now on, we will date the origin of our existence from your era. A living image of the river Lethe, you make us drink deeply from the forgetfulness of our troubles; miracles hasten to be born at your voice.18
Luxury is sanctified and turns to the benefit of the State. The heroism of our ancestors succeeds in us a frivolity and lightness. Women themselves put down the timidity natural to their sex and resurrect the value of the Amazons. What would be your surprise, Immortal Author of the social contract, if, when suddenly called to life, you reappear among us today? You’d think you were a stranger in the middle of your own adopted homeland? Would you look for her in yourself and no longer find her? If your soul is still sensitive to the happiness of mortals, contemplate your work from the bosom of the mausoleum which contains your ashes: watch France, full of your spirit and your lessons, free itself from its chains; see it recover its ancient splendor and regain the distinguished rank it once held among the powers of Europe - not to become its terror again, but to be its mediator and model. Proud to possess19 the emulator and friend of Washington, she would brave hell under this new Brutus.
But what noise am I suddenly awakened by? What hideous specter presents itself to my sight? The sky darkens, thunder rumbles, and our young hero's life is threatened. Does Caesar rise from his grave to pierce her breast? Is Antoine stirring up revolt and treason against him? The abduction of the monarch is still planned; new perils loom. A respected name,20 the first citizen of the kingdom, is confused by slander with the obscure agents of a sacrilegious cabal.
The generous La Fayette was the first victim to fall under their blows. His body, after having been covered with insults and wounds, is still destined to retrace the image of the unfortunate Hector, attached to a chariot and dragged on the dust around the walls of the Ilium; I recoil, troubled, at the aspect. Brave soldiers of Paris, will you suffer your general to be cowardly assassinated in your midst? Arrange yourself around his person; serve as a shield for him, and preserve this precious treasure for us; flee above all, flee these odious bribers who would like to seduce you. May the sacred effigy of the homeland always be before your eyes. Spare the earth from crimes, and virtue from tears; and yet, the cloud dissipates, and calm has already returned. And what do they pretend to accomplish, our relentless enemies - exhaust our patience with trials and battles?
Let them know that we are now too far in to think of going backwards. Let them know that by immolating the Van-der-noot of France, they would not have buried his ashes, our sentiments, and his glory under the same stone. His ashes would have given birth to avengers; our sentiments! Misfortune is just another incentive for the people defending their rights and homes. It is when the victorious Porsenna is at the feet of the Capitol that Rome produces a Mucius Scevola. His glory is independent of their opinion and their fury. The funeral pyre did not diminish the reputation of the Gracchus in the eyes of posterity, nor was Socrates disgraced by the judgment of a tribunal that should have honored him with statues.
Tremble, tyrants; tremble as your throne totters and collapses. Your powerless thunderbolts will pulverize in your hands. The reign of morals rises on unshakeable foundations. The commotion passes through the dams you oppose it with and makes itself felt everywhere. The tree of liberty extends its branches and will soon cast its shadow over the entire universe. Would you remain passive spectators of the crisis that agitates the globe, generous Bataves, who succumbed under the influence of Stathouderienne? Would you not dare to expose yourselves to new battles? Do not reproach my country for abandoning you in contempt of its treaties; when it existed under ministerial authority, did you still exist? The occasion is favorable; the National Assembly will extend a helping hand to you and rectify the shame with which the Versailles cabinet covered itself by sacrificing you to your enemies. Imitate Liège, which has already shaken off the yoke and has no other rule than that of laws. Spain and Italy will follow this example, as the Belgian provinces are rapidly moving towards independence. What honest soul could refuse tears to the deplorable fate of these regions? It is there that civil war unleashes its fury and wreaks havoc such as Rome never experienced under Marius and Sulla. But who can resist the inflamed patriotism? It is a torrent that sweeps away everything in its path.
Let antiquity no longer extol the devotion of Fabius and the Athenians victorious at Marathon. Let us no longer praise the 300 Spartans who halted the Persian army in the Thermopylae pass. These heroic actions will forever earn our admiration; nevertheless, but they will not overshadow the glory of this handful of Brabançons who, without discipline and without any assistance other than courage, united with holy enthusiasm, scatter and cut into pieces the numerous and seasoned soldiers of the fierce d'Alton, this worthy executor of his master's will.
Tyrant of the Danube, while you immolate thousands of Ottomans to your ambition, a fire ignites in your states what course will you take to extinguish it;21 Will your pride be humbled to the point of proposing peace? Peace would be on your lips, and the gall of hatred in your heart. You will use threats and death! Well, haven’t you already experienced the impotence of these resources? Is death capable of frightening unfortunate subjects, who prefer it to your domination? Let your soldiers, or rather your bandits, replay scenes reminiscent of Phalaris or the barbaric Attila. Without regard for the sanctity of asylums,22 they slaughter the elderly and children up to the very feet of the church. All these atrocities will only make your name even more detestable. The blood shed by your orders under the walls of Ghent cries out and is not appeased. Vengeance is on the way, and23 Heaven, whose support you dare to implore, rejects your prayers, and marks your plans with the seal of its disapproval.
Representatives of my country, I have paid tribute to your civic spirit with the same impartiality that I would have blamed your faults, if you had had any. I have been stopped in turn by joy and indignation in the career I have just traveled; I have hurled contempt and imprecation on the forehead of your detractors; I experienced ecstatic transports while tracing the picture of your operations. More than once I have found my eyes watering with tears the paper on which my pen confided the feelings of my heart. More than once I said to myself, seeing your decrees, is this only the work of human wisdom? Never before did the legislators of India, Greece and Rome, Confucius, Licurgue and Numa, come so close to perfection. But your crown is still missing a flower, hurry up and pick it.
The African, from the depths of his scorching deserts, raises his suppliant hands to you; Would he therefore be the only one excluded from the land of promise? As a man, he has rights to your justice; as an unfortunate, to your compassion. Image of divine providence, your beneficence must embrace all climates. May your names be blessed in both hemispheres; console these unfortunate Africans.
» Cruel Europeans, they cry out to you: you want to be free yourselves, but you chain us! You are crossing the seas to tear us away from places that saw us born; you drag us into these awful dwellings where a foreign agent humanely appeases his eyes with the spectacle of our sweat and our despair. Did you therefore discover the coasts of America only to make them the continual theater of your barbarism? Does our skin color grant you rights over our persons? Do you believe you are absolved by laying the profanity of our enslavement on the monsters who deliver us to your greed? Who is more guilty, the deceiver or the armed bandit? Aren't you the ones who receive us? Is it not you who, through your perfidious gifts, corrupt the rulers of Madagascar or Angola? If you stopped buying their victims, would they not cease to create them? And even if they did continue to oppress us, do you have the right to free us from their yoke by subjecting us to yours? Since when, to liberate someone from their tormentors, must you begin by taking away all their possessions?«
These reproaches are not without foundation, but they will never produce anything but sterile and powerless effects. If the friends of the black race have failed in England, should they hope to succeed in France? The evil is too inveterate to be radically cured. However, if the wound is incurable, it at least allows for palliatives; let us not deny them to the negroes submitted among us. May humanity make their prisons an honest and bearable asylum, lightening their chains, tailoring their labor to their strength. May the law shield them from the severity of a demanding master, and may it exclusively adjudicate on their transgressions. Let it be as men rather than slaves that they cultivate our colonies. It is only then that they will begin to see us as brothers and friends, and forgive the rigors of fate in favor of the improvement upon their condition. May we witness these changes for the better, and we will lack for nothing more. At that time, you will depart from life without regrets, venerable elders, soon to sleep beside your fathers and tell them that in your last glances beheld the dawn of the world's regeneration, and that the nineteenth century is about to open under the auspices of liberty.
F I N .
⚜⚜⚜
by M. Bessard, 1790
This term, “aziles” could either be referring to Restif de la Bretonne’s "Les Asiles de la Vierge," which would make sense given the 18th century timeframe, or the Scythian “Azalīźa” which, according to my elementary understanding, means something like “commander-in-chief,” which would also be logical in the given context.
“M, de Mirabeau. Everyone knows the speech he made on the occasion of these foreign groups: it is a piece of eloquence worthy of its place alongside the masterpieces of Demosthene and Cicero.”
“Bastille.”
“The first was governor of Lyon under Charles IX. He wrote to this prince, who urged him to put to death the Protestants of that city: 'Sire, I have communicated your letter to the entire garrison, but I found only citizens there and not an executioner.' The second refused to assassinate the Duke of Guise, despite the orders that Henri III had expressly given him for this purpose.”
“M. Necker.”
Originally Montesquieu was simply referred to as '“president,” however, the title being referred to differs from the modern English “President.” Montesquieu held the office of judge (président à mortier) in the parliament.
“Pédarete, not having had the honor of being chosen for one of the three hundred who had a certain distinguished rank in the city, returned home very happy and very cheerful, saying that he was delighted that Sparta had found three hundred citizens more honest people than himself.”
“Every day we see people stripped of their furniture and taken to prison, for not being able to pay their taxes or their poll tax.”
“It is noteworthy that of all the polemical works that the revolution has caused to be written, there is not one with a noble pen that could merit any consideration, if we make an exception, however, for the popular memoirs of Count d'E… since…”
“Nobody is unaware of the damages that the nobles commit every day in pursuit of a stag or a wild boar. The regulations that forbid the peasant the right to hunt and carry weapons are written in the deeds of feudal despotism.”
“This is still the Bastille.”
My guess is that this a term the author coined to mean something like ‘robotic aristocracy.’ Literary brilliance.
If I may be so bold, I would like to take the privilege here to compare this concept to that of the two-branched legislature that currently exists in the US federal government.
“Look, open your eyes, people of the provinces. It is a collection of invectives, where the effrontery of the imposture competes with the crudeness of the expression. The author of these filthy diatribes could find in his heart only the sentiments which he attributes to our most honest representatives. The epithets of ignoramuses, factious and traitors are profusely assigned to the Noailles, the Crillons, the Clennont-Tonnerre, the Le Chapelier, etc. Judging by these portraits, the delicacy of the brush that drew them is questionable; 'fi crimine ab uno dicte omnes,' to respond seriously to such assertions would be to degrade oneself; exposing them is to refute them."
“Allusion to all the jewels and jewels which were paid into the national fund.“
“We have just discovered yet another new conspiracy, directed somewhat on the same level as the previous ones. The conspirators had to lead the king to Metz, and get rid of M. Marquis de la Fayette, Necker and Bailly They hoped to corrupt the national militia of Paris, and the loyalty of several soldiers had already been pledged and betrothed. Malice has not feared associating Monsieur with the conspirators, that is to say, with the coarsest alloy, but it has only been able to demonstrate more and more the patriotic sentiments with which this august prince is animated. His justification has dispelled even the shadow of suspicion. The crime is so base and disgusting in itself that he has a firm conviction of his baseness. He almost never shows himself except behind a great name, attaching himself to an illustrious character. It is with the help of this foreign ornament that he believes he will lose his deformity.”
“All public papers mention crimes and rapes committed by imperial troops, in churches and monasteries. One cannot imagine all of the horrors of the theatre of the Austrian Netherlands.”
“It is said that Joseph II ordered people to pray throughout the entire extent of his kingdom, to attract the blessings of heaven to their arms.—Si genus humanum et mortalia temnitis arma, at sperate deos memores fandi atque nefandi.” .. *If you scorn the human race and mortal weapons, yet hope that the gods are mindful of right and wrong*