The French Revolution (Vol.1-3). Taine Hippolyte

of shipwrecked beings without food, there is a reversion to a state of nature. The light tissue of habit and of rational ideas in which civilization has enveloped man, is torn asunder and is floating in rags around him; the bare arms of the savage show themselves, and they are striking out. The only guide he has for his conduct is that of primitive days, the startled instinct of a craving stomach. Henceforth that which rules in him and through him is animal necessity with its train of violent and narrow suggestions, sometimes sanguinary and sometimes grotesque. Incompetent or savage, in all respects like a Negro monarch, his sole political expedients are either the methods of a slaughter house or the dreams of a carnival. Two commissioners whom Roland, Minister of the Interior, sends to Lyons, are able to see within a few days the carnival and the slaughter-house.3234—On the one hand the peasants, all along the road, arrest everybody; the people regard every traveler as an aristocrat who is running away—which is so much the worse for those who fall into their hands. Near Autun, four priests who, to obey the law, are betaking themselves to the frontier, are put in prison "for their own protection;" they are taken out a quarter of an hour later, and, in spite of thirty-two of the mounted police, are massacred. "Their carriage was still burning as I passed, and the corpses were stretched out not far off. Their driver was still in durance, and it was it vain that I solicited his release."—On the other hand, at Lyons, the power has fallen into the hands of the degraded women of the streets. "They seized the central club, constituted themselves commissaries of police, signed notices as such, and paid visits of inspection to store-houses;" they drew up a tariff of provisions, "from bread and meat up to common peaches, and peaches of fine quality." They announced that "whoever dared to dispute it would be considered a traitor to the country, an adherent of the civil list, and prosecuted as such." All this is published, proclaimed and applied by "female commissaries of police," themselves the dregs of the lowest sinks of corruption. Respectable housewives and workwomen had nothing to do with it, nor "working-people of any class." The sole actors of this administrative parody are "scamps, a few bullies of houses of ill-fame, and a portion of the dregs of the female sex."—To this end comes the dictatorship of instinct, yonder let loose on the highway in a massacre of priests, and here, in the second city of France, in the government of strumpets.

III.—Egotism of the tax-payer.

       Table of Contents

      Issoudun in 1790.—Rebellion against taxation.—Indirect

       taxes in 1789 and 1790.—Abolition of the salt tax, excise,

       and octrois.—Direct taxation in 1789 and 1790.—Delay and

       insufficiency of the returns.—New levies in 1791 and 1792.

      —Delays, partiality, and concealment in preparing the

       rolls.—Insufficiency of, and the delay in, the returns.

      —Payment in assignats.—The tax-payer relieves himself of

       one-half.—Devastation of the forests.—Division of the

       communal property.

      The fear of starvation is only the sharper form of a more general passion, which is the desire of possession and the determination not to give anything up. No popular instinct, had been longer, more rudely, more universally offended under the ancient régime; and there is none which gushes out more readily under constraint, none which requires a higher or broader public barrier, or one more entirely constructed of solid blocks, to keep it in check. Hence it is that this passion from the commencement breaks down or engulfs the slight and low boundaries, the tottering embankments of crumbling earth between which the Constitution pretends to confine it.—The first flood sweeps away the pecuniary claims of the State, of the clergy, and of the noblesse. The people regard them as abolished, or, at least, they consider their debts discharged. Their idea, in relation to this, is formed and fixed; for them it is that which constitutes the Revolution. The people have no longer a creditor; they are determined to have none, they will pay nobody, and first of all, they will make no further payment to the State.

On the 14th of July, 1790, the day of the Federation, the population of Issoudun, in Touraine, solemnly convoked for the purpose, had just taken the solemn oath which was to ensure public peace, social harmony, and respect for the law for evermore.3235 Here, probably, as elsewhere, arrangements had been made for an stirring ceremonial; there were young girls dressed in white, and learned and impressionable magistrates were to pronounce philosophical harangues. All at once they discover that the people gathered on the public square are provided with clubs, scythes, and axes, and that the National Guard will not prevent their use; on the contrary, the Guard itself is composed almost wholly of wine growers and others interested in the suppression of the duties on wine, of coopers, innkeepers, workmen, carters of casks, and others of the same stamp, all rough fellows who have their own way of interpreting the Social Contract. The whole mass of decrees, acts, and rhetorical flourishes which are dispatched to them from Paris, or which emanate from the new authorities, are not worth a halfpenny tax maintained on each bottle of wine. There are to be no more excise duties; they will only take the civic oath on this express condition, and that very evening they hang, in effigy, their two deputies, who "had not supported their interests" in the National Assembly. A few months later, of all the National Guard called upon to protect the clerks, only the commandant and two officers respond to the summons. If a docile taxpayer happens to be found, he is not allowed to pay the dues; this seems a defection and almost treachery. An entry of three puncheons of wine having been made, they are stove in with stones, a portion is drunk, and the rest taken to the barracks to debauch the soldiers; M. de Sauzay, commandant of the "Royal Roussillon," who was bold enough to save the clerks, is menaced, and for this misdeed he barely escapes being hung himself. When the municipal body is called upon to interpose and employ force, it replies that "for so small a matter, it is not worth while to compromise the lives of the citizens," and the regular troops sent to the Hôtel-de-Ville are ordered by the people not to go except with the but-ends of their muskets in the air. Five days after this the windows of the excise office are smashed, and the public notices are torn down; the fermentation does not subside, and M. de Sauzay writes that a regiment would be necessary to restrain the town. At Saint-Amand the insurrection breaks out violently, and is only put down by violence. At Saint-Étienne-en-Forez, Bertheas, a clerk in the excise office, falsely accused of monopolizing grain,3236 is fruitlessly defended by the National Guard; he is put in prison, according to the usual custom, to save his life, and, for greater security, the crowd insist on his being fastened by an iron collar. But, suddenly changing its mind, it breaks upon the door and drags him outside, beating him till he is unconscious. Stretched on the ground, his head still moves and he raises his hand to it, when a woman, picking up a large stone, smashes his skull.—These are not isolated occurrences. During the months of July and August, 1789, the tax offices are burnt in almost every town in the kingdom. In vain does the National Assembly order their reconstruction, insist on the maintenance of duties and octrois, and explain to the people the public needs, pathetically reminding them, moreover, that the Assembly has already given them relief;—the people prefer to relieve themselves instantly and entirely. Whatever is consumed must no longer be taxed, either for the benefit of the State or for that of the towns. "Entrance dues on wine and cattle," writes the municipality of Saint-Etienne, "scarcely amount to anything, and our powers are inadequate for their enforcement." At Cambrai, two successive outbreaks compel the excise office and the magistracy of the town3237 to reduce the duties on beer one-half. But "the evil, at first confined to one corner of the province, soon spreads;" the grands baillis of Lille, Douai, and Orchies write that "we have hardly a bureau which has not been molested, and in which the taxes are not wholly subject to popular discretion." Those only pay who are disposed to do so, and, consequently, "greater fraud could not exist." The taxpayers, indeed, cunningly defend themselves, and find plenty of arguments or quibbles to avoid paying their dues. At Cambrai they allege that, as the privileged now pay as well as the rest, the