1 Europe in Transition considerable turmoil and destruction could result from their actions.

During the last half of the century, urban riots increasingly involved political ends. Though often simultaneous with economic disturbances, the political riot always had nonartisan leadership or instigators. In fact, the "crowd" of the eighteenth century was often the tool of the upper classes. In Paris, the aristocratic Parlement often urged crowd action in its disputes with the monarchy. In eneva, middle-class citi!ens supported artisan riots against the local oligarchy. In reat "ritain in 1#$%, the government incited mobs to attac& 'nglish sympathi!ers of the (rench )evolution. *uch outbursts indicate that the crowd or mob first entered the 'uropean political and social arena well before the revolution in (rance.

The Jewish Population: The Age of the Ghetto

+lthough the small ,ewish communities of +msterdam and other western 'uropean cities became famous for their intellectual life and financial institutions, the vast ma-ority of 'uropean ,ews lived in eastern 'urope. In the eighteenth century and thereafter, the ,ewish population of 'urope was concentrated in Poland, .ithuania, and the /&raine, where no fewer than 0 million ,ews dwelled. There were perhaps as many as 112,222 ,ews in the 3absburg lands, primarily "ohemia, around 1#42. (ewer than 122,222 ,ews lived in ermany. There were appro5imately 62,222 ,ews in (rance. 7uch smaller ,ewish populations resided in 'ngland and 3olland, each of which had a ,ewish population of fewer than 12,222. There were even smaller groups of ,ews elsewhere. In 1#4%, 8atherine the reat of )ussia specifically e5cluded ,ews from a manifesto that welcomed foreigners to settle in )ussia. *he rela5ed the e5clusion a few years later, but ,ews during her reign often felt they needed assurances of imperial protection for their livelihoods and religious practices against the ordinances of local officials. 9*ee ""elorussian ,ews Petition 8atherine the reat.": +fter the first partition of Poland of 1##%, discussed in 8hapter 1;, )ussia included a large ,ewish population. There were also larger ,ewish communities in Prussia and under +ustrian rule. ,ews dwelled in most nations without en-oying the rights and privileges of other sub-ects of the monarchs, unless such rights were specifically granted to them. They were regarded as a &ind of resident alien whose residence might well be temporary or changed at the whim of local rulers or the monarchical government. <o matter where they dwelled, the ,ews of 'urope under the =ld )egime lived apart in separate communities from non-,ewish 'uropeans. These communities might be distinct districts of cities &nown as ghettos or in primarily ,ewish villages in the countryside. ,ews were also treated as a distinct people religiously and legally. In Poland for much of the century, they were virtually self-governing. In other areas, they lived under the burden of discriminatory legislation. '5cept in 'ngland, ,ews could not and did not mi5 in the mainstream of the societies in which they dwelled. This period, which really may be said to have begun with the e5pulsion of the ,ews from *pain at the end of the fifteenth century, is &nown as the age of the ghetto, or separate community. During the seventeenth century, a few ,ews had helped finance the wars of ma-or rulers. These financiers often became close to the rulers and were &nown as "court ,ews." Perhaps the most famous was *amuel =ppenheimer 91402-1#20:, who helped the 3absburgs finance their struggle against the Tur&s and the defense of >ienna. 'ven these privileged ,ews, including =ppenheimer, however, often failed to have their loans repaid. The court ,ews and their financial abilities became famous. They tended to marry among themselves. The overwhelming ma-ority of the ,ewish population of 'urope, however, lived in poverty. They occupied the most undesirable sections of cities or poor rural villages. They pursued moneylending in some cases, but often wor&ed at the lowest occupations. Their religious beliefs, rituals, and community set them apart. >irtually all laws and social institutions &ept them apart from their 8hristian neighbors in situations of social inferiority. /nder the =ld )egime, it is important to emphasi!e, all of this discrimination was based on religious separateness. ,ews who converted to 8hristianity were welcomed, even if not always warmly, into the ma-or political and social institutions of gentile 'uropean society. /ntil the last two decades of the eighteenth century, in every part of 'urope, however, those ,ews who remained loyal to their faith were sub-ect to various religious, civil, and social disabilities. They could not pursue the professions freely, they often could not change residence freely, and they stood outside the political structures of the nations in which they lived. ,ews could be e5pelled from the cities in which they resided, and their property could be confiscated. They were regarded as socially and religiously inferior. They could be re?uired to listen

Chapter 16

I Society and Economy under the Old Regime in the Eighteenth Century %

BELORUSSIAN JEWS PETITION CATHERINE THE GREAT

In the 1780s through military e!pansion Empress Catherine the "reat o# Russia $see Chapter 18% anne!ed &elorussia 'ringing a ne( )e(ish minority under her imperial go*ernment In response to her decree go*erning many aspects o# the region+s la( and economy &elorussian )e(s petitioned the empress to protect certain o# their traditional rights regarding distillation and sale o# spirits, They also petitioned #or protection in court and #or the right to retain their o(n traditional practices and courts #or matters relating to their o(n community, The petition indicates ho( in Russia as else(here in Europe #e(s (ere treated as a people apart, It also illustrates ho( #e(s li-e other minorities in Old Regime Europe sought 'oth to recei*e the protection o# monarchies against ar'itrary local o##icials and to maintain the integrity o# long.standing social practices, The document also illustrates the )e(s+ dependence on the good(ill o# the surrounding non.)e(ish community, / In the #irst part o# the petition ho( do the petitioners attempt to appeal to longstanding custom to de#end their interests0 1o( do 'oth parts o# the petition suggest that )e(ish la( and practice distinct #rom the rest o# the society go*erned )e(ish social li#e0 In the conte!t o# this petition (hich non.)e(ish authorities may actually or potentially in#luence )e(ish li#e0 . . . %. +ccording to an ancient custom, when the s?uires built a new village, they summoned the ,ews to reside there and gave them certain privileges for several years and then permanent liberty to distill spirits, brew beer and mead, and sell these drin&s. =n this basis, the ,ews built houses and distillation plants at considerable e5pense.... + new decree of 3er Imperial 7a-esty . . . reserved @this rightA to the s?uires. . . . "ut a decree of the governor-general of "elorussia has now forbidden the s?uires to farm out distillation in their villages to ,ews, even if the s?uires want to do this. +s a result, the poor ,ews who built houses in small villages and promoted both this trade and distillation have been deprived of these and left completely impoverished. "ut until all the ,ewish people are totally ruined, the ,ewish merchants suffer restraints e?ually with the poor rural ,ews, since their law obliges them to assist all who share their religious faith. They therefore re?uest an imperial decree authori!ing the s?uire, if he wishes, to farm out distillation to ,ews in rural areas. 0. +lthough, with 3er Imperial 7a-estyBs permission, ,ews may be elected as officials . . ., ,ews are allotted fewer votes than other people and hence no ,ew can ever attain office. 8onse?uently, ,ews have no one to defend them in courts and find themselves in a desperate situationCgiven their fear and ignorance of )ussianCin case of misfortune, even if innocent. To consummate all the good already bestowed, ,ews dare to petition that an e?ual number of electors be re?uired from ,ews as from others 9or, at least, that in matters involving ,ews and non-,ews, a representative from the ,ewish community hold e?ual rights with non-,ews, be present to accompany ,ews in court, and attend the interrogation of ,ews:. "ut cases involving only ,ews 9e5cept for promissory notes and debts: should be handled solely in ,ewish courts, because ,ews assume obligations among themselves, ma&e agreements and conclude all &inds of deals in the ,ewish language and in accordance with ,ewish rites and laws 9which are not &nown to others:. 7oreover, those who transgress their laws and order should be -udged in ,ewish courts. *imilarly, preserve intact all their customs and holidays in the spirit of their faith, as is mercifully assured in the imperial manifesto. From Prom Supplication to Re*olution2 3 4ocumentary Social 1istory o# Imperial Russia by Gregory L. Freeze. Copyright !"" by #$for% &ni'ersity Press( )n*. &se% by permission of #$for% &ni'ersity Press( )n*.

0 Europe in Transition
4uring the Old Regime European #e(s (ere separated #rom non.)e(s typically in districts -no(n as ghettos, Relegated to the least desira'le section o# a city or to rural *illages most li*ed in po*erty, This (ater color painting depicts a street in 5a6imles6 the )e(ish 7uarter o# Craco( Poland, Ju%ai*a
Colle*tion( +a$ ,erger( -ienna( Austria. Copyright .ri*h Lessing/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

to sermons that insulted their religion. ,ews might find their children ta&en away from them and given 8hristian instruction. They &new their non-,ewish neighbors might suddenly turn against them and &ill them. +s we will see in subse?uent chapters, the end of the =ld )egime brought ma-or changes in the lives of these ,ews and in their relationship to the larger culture.

)1 P.03P.CT)-.
8ear the close o# the eighteenth century European society (as on the 'rin- o# a ne( era, That society had remained traditional and corporate largely 'ecause o# an economy o# scarcity, &eginning in the eighteenth century the commercial spirit and the *alues o# the mar-etplace although not ne( (ere permitted #uller play than e*er 'e#ore in European history, The ne(ly unleashed commercial spirit led increasingly to a conception o# human 'eings as indi*iduals rather than as mem'ers o# communities, In particular that spirit mani#ested itsel# in the 3gricultural and Industrial Re*olutions as (ell as in the dri*e to(ard greater consumption, Together those t(o *ast changes in production o*ercame most o# the scarcity that had haunted Europe and the 9est generally, The accompanying changes in land.holding and production (ould 'ring ma:or changes to the European social structure, The e!pansion o# population pro*ided a #urther stimulus #or change, ;ore people meant more la'or more energy and more minds contri'uting to the creation and solution o# social di##iculties, Cities had to accommodate themsel*es to e!panding populations, Corporate groups such as the guilds had to con#ront the e!istence o# a larger la'or #orce, 8e( (ealth meant that 'irth (ould e*entually 'ecome less and less a determining #actor in social relationships e!cept in regard to the social roles assigned to the t(o se!es, Class structure and social hierarchy remained 'ut the 'oundaries 'ecame some(hat 'lurred, <inally the con#licting am'itions o# monarchs the no'ility and the middle class generated inno*ation, In the pursuit o# ne( re*enues the monarchs inter#ered (ith the pri*ileges o# the no'les, In the name o# ancient rights the no'les attempted to secure and e!pand their e!isting social pri*ileges, The middle class in all o# its di*ersity (as gro(ing (ealthier #rom trade commerce and the practice o# the pro#essions, Its mem'ers (anted social prestige and in#luence e7ual to their (ealth, They resented pri*ileges #ro(ned on hierarchy and re:ected tradition, 3ll these #actors meant the society o# the eighteenth century stood at the close o# one era in European history and at the opening o# another,

Chapter 16 I Society and Economy under the Old Regime in the Eighteenth Century 6 0.-).4 5&.3T)#13 1. Describe the life of an 'nglish aristocrat at the beginning of the eighteenth century and toward its close. Dhat &ind of privileges separated 'uropean aristocrats from other social groupsE %. 3ow would you define the term family economyE In what ways were the lives of women constrained by the family economy in prein-dustrial 'uropeE 0. Dhat caused the +gricultural )evolutionE To what e5tent did the 'nglish aristocracy contribute to the +gricultural )evolutionE Dhat were some of the reasons for peasant revolts in 'urope in the eighteenth centuryE 6. Dhat factors e5plain the increase in 'uropeBs population in the eighteenth centuryE 3ow did population growth contribute to changes in consumptionE 1. Dhat caused the Industrial )evolution of the eighteenth centuryE Dhy did reat "ritain ta&e the lead in the Industrial )evolutionE 3ow did the consumer contribute to the Industrial )evolutionE 4. Dhat changes had ta&en place in the distribution of population in cities and townsE 8ompare the lifestyle of the upper class with that of the middle and lower classes. Dhat were some of the causes of urban riotsE 3&GG.3T.6 0.A6)1G3 ,. ,L&+( =ord and Peasant in Russia #rom the 8inth to the 8ineteenth Century 91$41:. )emains a classic discussion. ,. ,0.4.0 A16 ). P#0T.0( Consumption and the 9orld o# "oods 91$$0:. + large, wide-ranging collection of essays. +. CLA07.( The Struggle #or the &reeches2 "ender and the ;a-ing o# the &ritish 9or-ing Class 91$$1:. + ma-or, deeply researched e5ploration of the sub-ect. P. 6.A1.( The <irst Industrial Re*olution 91$$$:. + well-balanced and systematic treatment. P. .A0L.( The ;a-ing o# the English ;iddle Class2 &usiness Community and <amily =i#e in =ondon 1660.17>0 91$;$:. The most careful study of the sub-ect. 7. D. FL)11( The European 4emographic System 1?00.18@0 91$;1:. )emains a ma-or summary. '. 8#,3,A4+( Industry and Empire2 The &irth o# the Industrial Re*olution 91$$$:. + survey by a ma-or historian of the sub-ect. 7. 8#1.2+A1( 9omen "ender and Industriali6ation in England 1700.18?0 9%222:. 'mphasi!es how certain wor& or economic roles became associated with either men or women. #. 8. 8&FT#1( The Poor o# Eighteenth.Century <rance 17?0.178A 91$#1:. + brilliant study of poverty and the family economy. +. 7A8A1( The Plo( the 1ammer and the 5nout2 3n Economic 1istory o# Eighteenth.Century Russia 91$;1:. +n e5tensive and detailed treatment. 6. I. 7.0T9.0 A16 +. ,A0,AGL)( The 1istory o# the European <amily2 <amily =i#e in Early ;odern Times 1?00.170A 9%221:. + series of broad-ranging essays covering the entire 8ontinent. 3. 7)1G A16 G. T)++#13( ;a-ing Sense o# the Industrial Re*olution2 English Economy and Soci. ety 1700.18?0 9%221:. '5amines the Industrial )evolution through the social institutions that brought it about and were changed by it. 6. LA16.3( The 9ealth and Po*erty o# 8ations2 9hy Some 3re So Rich and Some So Poor 91$$;:. + lively, opinionated overview of economic development. F. '. +A1&.L( The &ro-en Sta##2 #udaism Through Christian Eyes 91$$%:. +n important discussion of 8hristian interpretations of ,udaism. +. #-.0T#1( 3gricultural Re*olution in England2 The Trans#ormation o# the 3grarian Economy 1?00.18?0 91$$4:. + highly accessible treatment. G. 0&6.( The Cro(d in 1istory 17>0.18B8 91$46:. + pioneering study. P. 3T.A013( The Industrial Re*olution in 9orld 1istory 91$$;:. +n e5tremely broad interpretive account. 6. -AL.19.( The <irst Industrial 9oman 91$$1:. +n elegant, penetrating volume. +. -)C7.02( The "entleman+s 4aughter2 9omen+s =i*es in "eorgian England 91$$;:. + richly documented study. '. +. 40)GL.2( Continuity Chance and Change2 The Character o# the Industrial Re*olution in England 91$$6:. + ma-or conceptual reassessment. 6#C&+.1T3 C6:0#+ .)G8T..1T8:C.1T&02 3#C).T2 14.1 Tortured '5ecution vs. Prison )ules 14.% .ife in the 'ighteenth 8enturyF +n +rtisanBs ,ourney 14.0 Instructions for a <ew .aw 8ode 14.6 ,onathan *wiftF 3 4escription o# a City Sho(er 14.1 The 8reation of the *team .oom 14.4 Protesting the 7achines

14.#

. 7. TrevelyanF 8hapter GIII from English Social 1istory

A0T ; T8. 4.3T Two 3*enes of 6omesti* Life in the #l% 0egime

nder the =ld )egime and for long after, domestic life, housewor&, and child rearing were often

regarded as the "womanBs sphere." "ut that female domestic sphere, as these wor&s by the (rench artists ,ean-"aptiste-*imeon 8hardin C16AA.177AD and 'lisabeth-.ouise >igee-.ebrun 91#11-1;6%: reveal, was a comple5 world. The home might be the feminine empire, but it was an empire of many provinces. 7oreover, as a female artist, >igee-.ebrun demonstrated that in rare instances women could lead lives outside the home. 8hardinBs The Return #rom the ;ar-et 91#0;: presents what was often, at least in art, a hidden area within the domestic sphereF that of the servant. The woman in the painting is a servant in what appears to be a household of moderate means, perhaps that of a merchant. In this and other of his paintings, 8hardin portrays a world of Jean:,aptiste Char%in( <!!: ==!. The Return #rom the ;ar-et $=a Pom*oyeuse%. > =?"@. Fren*h. +usee %u Lou're( Paris/3uper3to*A 4

domestic order and tran?uility, set apart from the bustle of an eighteenth-century street. 7ost domestic servants in this age were women. Het even among them, a clear social hierarchy e5isted. This woman would have held a lower status than that of a governess who loo&ed after the familyBs children. 8hardin portrayed the wor& of servants with ?uiet dignity and warmth. 3ere the servant putting down the bread seems to be listening to a conversation in the other room. 8hardin does not intrude on the scene, which assumes a timeless ?ualityF 3ouseholds have needed to secure bread from time immemorial. This return from mar&et is simply the most recent e5ample. 8hardin described his painting as a craft rather than a wor& of inspiration. 3e seems to have seen it as similar to the dignified, everyday domestic wor& that he shows this woman performing. =n the surface, 'lisabeth-.ouise >igee-.ebrunBs self-portrait of 1#;$ with her daughter ,ulie presents another side of womenBs life in the domestic sphere, that of the devoted mother. The classical garb of mother and child, with its echoes of the ancient world, suggests the timelessness of this role no less than 8hardinBs servant returning to the household with bread. "ut because >igee-.ebrun was a woman artist who had been encouraged to paint by a father who was also an artist, the self-portrait also undermines the concept of a timeless, unchanging domestic sphere for women. *he was a wife and a mother, but she was also one of the most fashionable and successful portrait artists of her day who had begun her career when she was only si5 years older than her daughter is in the painting. >igee-.ebrun had married an art dealer whose business and social connections gave her access to aristocratic and royal clients, the most famous of whom was Iueen 7arie +ntoinette. >igee-.ebrun succeeded through her painting in ma&ing herself economically secure. <o longer dependent on her husband for money, she had thus bro&en out of the traditional domestic female sphere, although she remained a devoted wife and mother. *he was also one of the few women admitted to the prestigious (rench )oyal +cademy. Ironically, after the (rench )evolution, that academy closed its doors to women artists. 3er aristocratic and royal connections forced >igee-.ebrun to flee (rance during the revolution. (or over a decade she traveled across 'urope, being admitted to one distinguished academy of art after another while painting portraits of rulers and fashionable people. *he eventually came bac& to (rance in 1;21 after more than two hundred artists petitioned <apoleon for her return. *he continued to paint portraits until 1;01 when she was eighty years old. / 1o( does the (or- o# Chardin and Eigee.=e'run re*eal the comple! (orld o# (omen under the Old Regime0 9hat aspects o# domestic li#e does Chardin+s painting illustrate0 1o( did Eigee.=e'run+s portrait and her career undermine the traditional concept o# (omen+s domestic sphere0
Albert ,oime( 3rt in an 3ge o# Re*olution 17?0.1800 >Chi*ago: &ni'ersity of Chi*ago Press( !"=@B 1orman ,ryson( =oo-ing at the O*erloo-ed2 <our Essays on Still =i#e Painting >Cambri%ge( +A: 8ar'ar% &ni'ersity Press( !!C@B 0i*har% 0an%( Intimate Encounters2 =o*e and 4omesticity in Eighteenth.Century <rance >Prin*eton( 1J: Prin*eton &ni'ersity Press( !!=@B 3. .'ans( The ;emoirs o# ;adame Eigee =e&run >,loomington: )n%iana &ni'ersity( !"!@B Angeli*a Goo%%en( The S(eetness o# =i#e2 3 &iography o# Elisa'eth Eigee =e &run >Lon%on: !!=@.

.lizabeth:Louise -igee:Lebrun. Sel#.portrait (ith 1er

4aughter #ulie,
Lou're( Paris( Fran*e. .ri*h Lessing/Art 0esour*e.

4uring the se*enteenth and eighteenth centuries European maritime nations esta'lished o*erseas empires and set up trading monopolies (ithin them in an e##ort to magni#y their economic strength, 3s this painting o # the #l% Custom 8ouse 5uay in =ondon suggests trade #rom these empires and the tari##s imposed on it (ere e!pected to generate re*enue #or the home country, &ut 'ehind many o # the goods carried in the great sailing ships in the har'or and landed on these doc-s lay the la'or o # 3#rican sla*es (or-ing on the plantations o # 8orth and South 3merica, 3amuel 3*ott old Custom
1ouse Fuay Colle*tion. - ; A Pi*ture Library( The -i*toria ; Albert +useum

T8. T0A13ATLA1T)C .C#1#+2( T0A6. 4A03( A16 C#L#1)AL 0.,.LL)#1

1E ;I44=E O< T1E EI"1TEE8T1

century (itnessed a rene(al o# European (ar#are on a

(orld(ide scale, The con#lict in*ol*ed t(o separate hut interrelated ri*alries, 3ustria and Prussia #ought #or dominance in central Europe (hile "reat &ritain and <rance dueled #or commercial and colonial supremacy, The (ars (ere long e!tensi*e and costly in 'oth e##ort and money, They resulted in a ne( 'alance o# po(er on the Continent and on the high seas, Prussia emerged as a great po(er and "reat &ritain gained a (orld empire, The e!pense o# these (ars led e*ery ma:or European go*ernment a#ter the Peace o# Paris o# 176> to reconstruct its policies o# ta!ation and #inance, The re*ised #iscal programs produced internal conditions #or the monarchies o# Europe that had signi#icant e##ects lasting the rest o# the century including the 3merican Re*olution enlightened a'solutism on the Continent a continuing #inancial crisis #or the <rench monarchy and re#orm o# the Spanish Empire in South 3merica, Periods of European Overseas Empires er!an"i#e Empires T$e Spanis$ Co#onia# S%s"em B#a!& Afri!an S#aver%' "$e P#an"a"ion S%s"em' and "$e A"#an"i! E!onom% id(Ei)$"een"$(Cen"ur% Wars T$e Ameri!an Revo#u"ion and Europe In Perspe!"ive !

12 Europe in Transition

7.2 T#P)C3

J 'uropeBs mercantilist empires J *painBs vast colonial empire in the +mericas J +frica, slavery, and the transatlantic plantation economies J The wars of the mid-eighteenth century in 'urope and the colonies J The struggle for independence in "ritainBs <orth +merican colonies

Perio%s of .uropean #'erseas .mpires

*ince the )enaissance, 'uropean contacts with the rest of the world have gone through four distinct stages. The first was that of the 'uropean discovery, e5ploration, initial con?uest, and settlement of the <ew Dorld. This phase also witnessed the penetration of *outheast +sian mar&ets by Portugal and the <etherlands, which established ma-or imperial outposts and influence in the region. The period closed by the end of the seventeenth century. The second eraCthat of the mercantile empires, which are largely the concern of this chapterCwas one of colonial trade rivalry among *pain, (rance, and reat "ritain. +lthough during the si5teenth and seventeenth centuries differing motives had led to the establishment of overseas 'uropean empires, by the eighteenth century they generally e5isted to foster trade and commerce. Those commerical goals, however, often led to intense rivalry and conflict in &ey imperial trouble spots. +s a result, the various imperial ventures led to the creation of large navies and fostered a series of ma-or naval wars at the midcenturyCwars that in turn became lin&ed to warfare on the 'uropean continent. The +nglo(rench side of the contest has often been compared to a second 3undred HearsB Dar, with theaters of conflict in 'urope, the +mericas, and India. + fundamental element of these first two periods of 'uropean imperial ventures in the +mericas was the presence of slavery. "y the eighteenth century, the slave population of the <ew Dorld consisted almost entirely of a blac& population either recently forcibly imported from +frica or born to slaves whose forebears had been forcibly imported from +frica. There e5isted no precedent in human history for so large a forced migration of peoples from one continent to another or for the mid-+tlantic plantation economies supported by such slave labor. The creation in the +mericas of this slave-based plantation economy led directly to over three centuries of e5tensive involvement in the slave trade by 'uropeans and white +mericans with +fricaC most particularly, the societies of Dest +frica. In turn, the slave trade created on the +merican continent e5tensive communities of +fricans from the 8hesapea&e region of 7aryland and >irginia south to "ra!il. The +fricans brought to the +merican e5perience not only their labor, but their languages, customs, and ethnic associations. The +tlantic economy and the societies that arose in the +mericas were conse?uently very much the creation of both 'uropeans and +fricans while, as a result of the *panish con?uest, native +mericans were pressed toward the margins of those societies. (inally, during the second period, both the "ritish colonies of the <orth +merican seaboard and the *panish colonies of 7e5ico and 8entral and *outh +merica emancipated themselves from 'uropean control. This era of independence, part of which is discussed in this chapter and part in 8hapter %1, may be said to have closed during the 1;%2s. The third stage of 'uropean contact with the non-'uropean world occurred in the nineteenth century. During that period, 'uropean governments carved new formal empires involving the direct 'uropean administration of indigenous peoples in +frica and +sia. Those nineteenth-century empires also included new areas of 'uropean settlement, such as +ustralia, <ew Kealand, and *outh +frica. The bases of these empires were trade, national honor, 8hristian missionary enterprise, and military strategy. The last period of 'uropean empire occurred during the mid- and late twentieth century, with the decoloni!ation of peoples who had previously lived under 'uropean colonial rule. During the four-and-one-half centuries before decoloni!ation, 'uropeans e5erted political dominance over much of the rest of the world that was far disproportional to the geographical si!e or population of 'urope. 'uropeans fre?uently treated other peoples as social, intellectual, and economic inferiors. They ravaged e5isting cultures because of greed, religious !eal, or political ambition. These actions are ma-or facts of both 'uropean and world history and remain significant factors in the contemporary relationship between 'urope and its former colonies. Dhat allowed the 'uropeans to e5ert such influence and domination for so long over so much of the world was not any innate cultural superiority, but a technological supremacy related to naval power and gunpowder. *hips and guns allowed the 'uropeans to e5ercise their will almost wherever they chose.

Chapter 17

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion 11

+er*antile .mpires
<avies and merchant shipping were the &eystones of the mercantile empires that were meant to bring profit to a nation rather than to provide areas for settlement. The Treaty of /trecht 91#10: established the boundaries of empire during the first half of the century. '5cept for "ra!il, which was governed by Portugal, *pain controlled all of mainland *outh +merica. In <orth +merica, it ruled (lorida, 7e5ico, 8alifornia, and the *outhwest. The *panish also governed 8entral +merica and the islands of 8uba, Puerto )ico, and half of 3ispaniola. The "ritish 'mpire consisted of the colonies along the <orth +tlantic seaboard, <ova *cotia, <ewfoundland, ,amaica, and "arbados. "ritain also possessed a few trading stations on the Indian subcontinent. The (rench domains covered the *aint .awrence )iver valley and the =hio and 7ississippi )iver valleys. They included the Dest Indian islands of *aint Domingue 93ispaniola:, uadeloupe, and 7artini?ue and also stations in India. To the (rench and "ritish merchant communities, India appeared as a vast potential mar&et for 'uropean goods, as well as the source of calicos and spices that were in much demand in 'urope. The Dutch controlled *urinam, or Dutch uiana, in *outh +merica, and various trading stations in 8eylon and "engal. 7ost important, they controlled the trade with ,ava in what is now Indonesia. The Dutch had opened these mar&ets largely in the seventeenth century and had created a vast trading empire far larger in e5tent, wealth, and importance than the geographical si!e of the /nited <etherlands would have led one to e5pect. The Dutch had been daring sailors and made important technological innovations in sailing. +ll of these powers also possessed numerous smaller islands in the 8aribbean. *o far as eighteenthcentury developments were concerned, the ma-or rivalries e5isted among the *panish, the (rench, and the "ritish.

+')8+<TI.I*T G=+.*

Dhere any formal economic theory lay behind the conduct of eighteenth-century empires, it was mercantilism, that practical creed of hard-headed busi-nesspeople. The terms mercantilism and mercantile system were invented by later opponents and critics of the system whereby governments heavily regulated trade and commerce in hope of increasing national wealth. 'conomic writers believed it necessary for a nation to gain a favorable trade balance of gold and silver bullion. They regarded bullion as the measure of a countryBs wealth, and a nation was truly wealthy only if it amassed more bullion than its rivals. The mercantilist statesmen and traders regarded the world as an arena of scarce resources and economic limitation. The attitudes associated with mercantilist thin&ing assumed very modest levels of economic growth. *uch thin&ing predated the e5pansion of agricultural and later industrial productivity discussed in the previous chapter. Prior to the beginning of such sustained economic growth, the wealth of one nation was assumed to grow or to be increased largely at the direct cost of another nation. That is to say, the wealth of one state might e5pand only if its armies or navies con?uered the domestic or colonial territory of another state and thus gained the productive capacity of that area, or
The technologically ad*anced #leet o# the 4utch East India Company sho(n here at anchor in 3msterdam lin-ed the 8etherlands+ economy (ith that o# southeast 3sia, #il on
*opper. Johnny 'an 8aef ten Gallery( Lon%on( &.7. The ,ri%geman Art Library.

1% Europe in Transition if a state e5panded its trading monopoly over new territory, or if, by smuggling, it could intrude on the trading monopoly of another state. (rom beginning to end, the economic well-being of the home country was the primary concern of mercantilist writers. 8olonies were to provide mar&ets and natural resources for the industries of the home country. In turn, the home country was to furnish military security and political administration for the colonies. (or decades, both sides assumed the colonies were the inferior partner in the relationship. The home country and its colonies were to trade e5clusively with each other. To that end, they tried to forge trade-tight systems of national commerce through navigation laws, tariffs, bounties to encourage production, and prohibitions against trading with the sub-ects of other monarchs. <ational monopoly was the ruling principle. 7ercantilist ideas had always been neater on paper than in practice. "y the early eighteenth century, mercantilist assumptions were far removed from the economic realities of the colonies. The colonial and home mar&ets simply did not mesh. *pain could not produce enough goods for *outh +merica. 'conomic production in the "ritish <orth +merican colonies challenged 'nglish manufacturing and led to "ritish attempts to limit certain colonial industries, such as iron and hatma&ing. 8olonists of different countries wished to trade with each other. 'nglish colonists could buy sugar more cheaply from the (rench Dest Indies than from 'nglish suppliers. The traders and merchants of one nation always hoped to brea& the monopoly of another. (or all these reasons, the eighteenth century became what one historian many years ago termed the "golden age of smugglers." 1 The governments could not control the activities of all their sub-ects. 8lashes among colonists could and did bring about conflict between governments.

F)'<83:,)ITI*3 0I>+.)H

7a-or flash points e5isted between (rance and "ritain in <orth +merica. Their colonists ?uarreled endlessly with each other. "oth groups of settlers coveted the lower *aint .awrence )iver valley, upper <ew 'ngland, and, later, the =hio )iver valley. There were other rivalries over fishing rights, the fur trade, and alliances with <ative +merican tribes. The heart of the eighteenth-century colonial rivalry in the +mericas, however, lay in the Dest Indies. These islands, close to the +merican continents, were the -ewels of empire. The Dest Indies raised 4alter 6orn( Competition #or Empire 17B0.176> >1ew 2orA: 8arper( !DC@( p. E<<. tobacco, cotton, indigo, coffee, and, above all, sugar, for which there e5isted strong mar&ets in 'urope. These commodities were becoming part of daily life, especially in western 'urope. They represented one aspect of those ma-or changes in consumption that mar&ed eighteenth-century 'uropean culture. *ugar in particular had become a staple rather than a lu5ury. It was used in coffee, tea, and cocoa, for ma&ing candy and preserving fruits, and in the brewing industry. There seemed no limit to its uses, no limit to consumer demand for it, and, for a time, almost no limit to the riches it might bring to plantation owners. =nly slave labor allowed the profitable cultivation of these products during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. 9*ee "'ncountering the PastF *ugar 'nters the Destern Diet.": India was another area of (rench-"ritish rivalry. =n the Indian subcontinent, both (rance and "ritain traded through privileged chartered companies that en-oyed a legal monopoly. The 'ast India 8ompany was the 'nglish institutionL the (rench e?uivalent was the Compagnie des Indes, The trade of India and +sia figured only marginally in the economics of empire. <evertheless, enterprising 'uropeans always hoped to develop profitable commerce with India. =thers regarded India as a springboard into the even larger potential mar&et of 8hina. The original 'uropean footholds in India were trading posts called #actories, They e5isted through privileges granted by various Indian governments. Two circumstances in the middle of the eighteenth century changed this situation in India. (irst, the indigenous administration and government of several Indian states had decayed. *econd, ,oseph Duplei5 914$#-1#40: for the (rench and )obert 8live 91#%1-1##6: for the "ritish saw the developing power vacuum as opportunities for e5panding the control of their respective companies. To maintain their own security and to e5pand their privileges, each of the two companies began in effect to ta&e over the government of some regions. 'ach group of 'uropeans hoped to chec&mate the other. The Dutch maintained their e5tensive commercial empire futher to the east in what today is Indonesia. "y the eighteenth century, the other 'uropean powers more or less ac&nowledged Dutch predominance in that region.

The 3panish Colonial 3ystem

*panish control of its +merican 'mpire involved a system of government and a system of monopolistic trade regulation. "oth were more rigid in appearance than in practice. +ctual government was often informal, and the trade monopoly was fre?uently

3ugar .nters the 4estern 6iet

"

efore the 'uropean discovery of the +mericas, sugar was a lu5ury product that only the wealthy

could afford. "ecause it re?uires subtropical temperatures and heavy rainfall, sugarcane could not be grown in 'urope. *ugar had to be imported, at great e5pense, from the +rab world or from *panish and Portuguese islands off the coast of +frica, which were too arid for the plant to flourish. The 8aribbean, however, is ideal for sugarcane. 8olumbus carried it to the <ew Dorld in 16$0, and within about a decade sugar was being cultivatedCby slavesCon *anto Domingo. "ut sugar production did not begin to soar until "ritain and (rance established themselves in the 8aribbean in the seventeenth century and demand for sugar began to grow in 'urope, first slowly and then insatiably. "y the eighteenth century, the small "ritish and (rench islands in the 8aribbean where sugar was produced by +frican slave labor had become some of the most valuable real estate on earth. Dhereas the <orth +merican colonies imported 8aribbean molasses to ma&e rum, 'uropeans desired sugar to sweeten other foods. *ugar, the largest colonial import into "ritain, embodied the mercantile policy of a closed economic system. It was raised in "ritish colonies, paid for by "ritish e5ports, shipped on "ritish ships, insured by "ritish firms, refined in "ritish cities, and consumed on "ritish tables. The voracious demand for sugar as a sweetener was tied up with three other tropical productsCcoffee, tea, and chocolateCthat 'uropean consumers began to drin& in enormous ?uantities in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. 'ach of these beverages is a stimulant, which helps e5plain their popularity, but by themselves they taste bitter. *ugar made them palatable to 'uropean consumers. The demand for sugar and these drin&s became mutually reinforcing. +s the mar&ets for coffee, chocolate, and especially tea grew in 'ngland and the 'nglish colonies, so did the demand for sugar. +s the production of sugar rose, its price fell. The cheaper sugar became, the more of it 'uropeans consumed. "y the end of the eighteenth century, tea with sugar was cheaper than beer or mil&, and it had become the most popular drin& among the "ritish poor 9while remaining an elegant drin& for the wealthy:. 7oreover, because sugar had originally been a lu5ury item, people felt they were improving their standard of living if they consumed more of it. During the nineteenth century, sugar consumption continued to e5pand, and sugar became even cheaper when free-trade policies reduced protective import duties and when the (rench began to manufacture it from sugar beets, which could easily be grown in 'urope. <ineteenth-century Desterners developed the custom of ending a meal with dessert, food usually sweetened with sugar.
3i%ney +intz( S(eetness and Po(er2 The Place o# Sugar in ;odem 1istory >1ew 2orA: Penguin ,ooAs( !"F@.

/ 1o( did the coloni6ation o# the 3mericas a##ect the European demand #or sugar0 9hy did sugar consumption increase so rapidly in Europe during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries0
Sugar (as 'oth raised and processed on plantations such as this one in &ra6il, 8ulton/Corbis

16 Europe in Transition breached. /ntil the middle of the eighteenth century, the primary purpose of the *panish 'mpire was to supply *pain with the precious metals mined in the <ew Dorld.

C=.=<I+. G=>')<7'<T

"ecause Iueen Isabella of 8astile 9r. 16#6-1126: had commissioned 8olumbus, the technical legal lin& between the <ew Dorld and *pain was the crown of 8astile. Its powers both at home and in +merica were sub-ect to few limitations. The 8astilian monarch assigned the government of +merica to the 8ouncil of the Indies, which, with the monarch, nominated the viceroys of <ew *pain 97e5ico: and Peru. These viceroys served as the chief e5ecutives in the <ew Dorld and carried out the laws promulgated by the 8ouncil of the Indies. 'ach of the viceroyalties was divided into several subordinate -udicial councils, &nown as audiencias, There was also a variety of local officers, the most important of which were the corregidores who presided over municipal councils. +ll of these officers provided the monarchy with a vast array of patronage, usually bestowed on persons born in *pain. >irtually all power flowed from the top of this political structure downwardL in effect, local initiative or self-government scarcely e5isted.
The #ortress o# El ;orro in the har'or o# San )uan Puerto Rico, This massi*e citadel protected the Spanish treasure #leets that carried gold and sil*er each year to Spain #rom the mines o# ;e!ico and Peru, Comsto*A images

T)+D' 0' /.+TI=<

The colonial political structures functioned largely to support *panish commercial self-interest. The Casa de Contratacion 93ouse of Trade: in *eville regulated all trade with the <ew Dorld. 8adi! was the only port authori!ed for use in the +merican trade. The Casa was the most influential institution of the *panish 'mpire. Its members wor&ed closely with the Consulado 97erchant uild: of *eville and other groups involved with +merican commerce in 8adi!. + complicated system of trade and bullion fleets administered from *eville was the &ey to maintaining *painBs trade monopoly. 'ach year, a fleet of commercial vessels 9the #lota% controlled by *eville merchants and escorted by warships carried merchandise from *pain to a few specified ports in +merica, including Portobello, >eracru!, and 8artagena on the +tlantic coast. 9*ee ">isitors Describe the Portobello (air.": There were no authori!ed ports on the Pacific 8oast. +reas far to the south, such as "uenos +ires on the )io de la Plata, received goods only after the shipments had been unloaded at one of the authori!ed ports. +fter selling their wares, the ships were loaded with silver and gold bullion, usually wintered in heavily fortified 8aribbean ports, and then sailed bac& to *pain. The #lota system always wor&ed imperfectly, but trade outside it was illegal. )egulations prohibited the *panish colonists within the +merican 'mpire from estab-hshing direct trade with each other and from building their own shipping and commercial industry. (oreign merchants were also forbidden to breach the *panish monopoly.

C=.=<I+. 0'(=)7 /<D') T3' 3P+<I*3 ,=/)"=< +=<+)83*

+ crucial change occurred in the *panish colonial system in the early eighteenth century. The Dar of the *panish *uccession 91#21-1#16: and the Treaty of /trecht 91#10: replaced the *panish 3absburgs with the "ourbons of (rance on the *panish throne. Philip > 9r. 1#22-1#64: and his successors tried to use (rench administrative s&ills to reassert the imperial trade monopoly, which had decayed under the last *panish 3absburgs, and thus attempted to improve the domestic economy and revive *panish power in 'uropean affairs. /nder Philip >, *panish coastal patrol vessels tried to suppress smuggling in +merican waters. 9*ee ""uccaneers Prowl the 3igh *eas.": +n incident arising from this policy 9discussed later in the chapter: led to war with 'ngland in 1#0$, the year in which Philip established the viceroyalty of <ew

Chapter 17

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion 11

*ISITORS +ESCRIBE THE PORTOBELLO ,AIR

The Spanish tried to restrict all trade (ithin their =atin 3merican Empire to a #e( designated ports, Each year a #air (as held in certain o# these ports, The most #amous such port (as Porto'ello on the Isthmus o# Panama, In the 17>0s t(o *isitors sa( the e*ent and descri'ed it, This #air (as the chie# means o# #acilitating trade 'et(een the (estern coast o# South 3merica and Spain, / 9hat products (ere sold at the #air0 1o( does this passage illustrate the ine##iciency o# monopoly trade in the Spanish Empire and the many chances #or smuggling0 M"Tphe town of Portobello, so thinly inhabited, by X reason of its no5ious air, the scarcity of provisions, and the soil, becomes, at the time of the @*panishA galleons one of the most populous places in all *outh +merica.... The ships are no sooner moored in the harbour, than the first wor& is, to erect, in the s?uare, a tent made of the shipBs sails, for receiving its cargoL at which the proprietors of the goods are present, in order to find their bales, by the mar&s which distinguish them. These bales are drawn on sledges, to their respective places by the crew of every ship, and the money given them is proportionally divided. Dhilst the seamen and 'uropean traders are thus employed, the land is covered with droves of mules from Panama, each drove consisting of above an hundred, loaded with chests of gold and silver, on account of the merchants of Peru. *ome unload them at the e5change, others in the middle of the s?uareL yet, amidst the hurry and confusion of such crowds, no theft, loss, or disturbance, is ever &nown. 3e who has seen this place during the tiempo muerto or dead time, solitary, poor, and a perpetual silence reigning everywhereL the harbour ?uite empty, and every place wearing a melancholy aspectL must be filled with astonishment at the sudden change, to see the bustling multitudes, every house crowded, the s?uare and streets encumbered with bales and chests of gold Gnd silver of all &inds,- the harbour full of ships and vessels, some bringing by the way of )io de 8hape the goods of Peru, such as cacao 7uin7uina or ,esuitBs bar&, >icuna wool, and be!oar stonesL others coming from 8arthagena, loaded with provisionsL and thus a spot, at all times detested for its deleterious ?ualities, becomes the staple of the riches of the old and new world, and the scene of one of the most considerable branches of commerce in the whole earth. The ships being unloaded, and the merchants of Peru, together with the president of Panama, arrived, the fair comes under deliberation. +nd for this purpose the deputies of the several parties repair on board the commodore of the galleons, where, in the presence of the commodore, and the president of Panama, . . , the prices of the several &inds of merchandi!es are settled.... The purchases and sales, as li&ewise the e5changes of money, are transacted by bro&ers, both from *pain and Peru. +fter this, every one begins to dispose of his goodsL the *panish bro&ers embar&ing their chests of money, and those of Peru sending away the goods they have purchased, in vessels called chatas and 'ongos up the river 8hagres. +nd tlrNs thetair of Portobello ends. From George Juan an% Antonio %e &lloa( 3 Eoyage to South 3merica -ol. >Lon%on( ==E@( pp. C?: C( as Guote% in ,eHamin 7een( e%.( Readings in =atin.3merican Ci*ili6ation 1BA@ to the Present >1ew 2orA: 8oughton +ifflin( !FF@( pp. C=: C". ranada in the area that today includes >ene!uela, 8olombia, and 'cuador. The goal was to increase direct royal government in the area. During the reign of (erdinand >I 9r. 1#64-1#1$:, the great midcentury wars e5posed the vulnerability of the empire to naval attac& and economic penetration. +s an ally of (rance, *pain emerged as one of the defeated powers in 1#40. overnment circles became convinced that further changes in the colonial system had to be underta&en. 8harles I3 9r. 1#1$-1#;;:, the most important of the royal imperial reformers, attempted to reassert *painBs control of the empire. .i&e his two "ourbon predecessors, 8harles emphasi!ed royal ministers

14 Europe in Transition

BUCCANEERS PROWL THE HIGH SEAS

&y no means did all o# the trade in the Cari''ean Sea occur at the Porto'ello #air descri'ed in the pre*ious document, Piracy (as a ma:or pro'lem #or transatlantic trade, There (as o#ten a #ine line 'et(een #ree(heeling 'uccaneering pirates operating #or their o(n gain and pri*ateers (ho in e##ect (or-ed #or *arious European go*ernments that (anted to penetrate the commercial monopoly o# the Spanish Empire, 3le!ander E!7uemelin (as a ship+s surgeon (ho #or a time plied his trade on 'oard a pirate ship and then later settled in 1olland, 1e (rote an account o# those days in (hich he emphasi6es the care#ul code o# conduct among the pirates themsel*es and the harshness o# their 'eha*ior to(ard 'oth those on ships they captured and poor #armers and #ishermen (hom they ro''ed and *irtually ensla*ed, / 1o( did the restricti*e commercial policy o# the Spanish Empire encourage piracy and pri*ateering0 9as there a code o# honor among the pirates0 9hat -inds o# people may ha*e su##ered most #rom piracy0 To (hat e!tent did pirates ha*e any respect #or indi*idual #reedom0 1o( romantic (as the real (orld o# pirates0 Ohen a buccaneer is going to sea he sends word -' to ali who wish to sail with him. Dhen all are ready, they go on board, each bringing what he needs in the way of weapons, powder and shot. =n the ship, they first discuss where to go and get food supplies. . . . The meat is either @saltedA por& or turtle... . *ometimes they go and plunder the *paniardsB corrodes which are pens where they &eep perhaps a thousand head of tame hogs. The rovers . . . find the house of the farmer . . . @whomA unless he gives them as many hogs as they demand, they hang . . . without mercy.... Dhen a ship has been captured, the men decide whether the captain should &eep it or notF if the pri!e is better than their own vessel, they ta&e it and set fire to the other. Dhen a ship is robbed, nobody must plunder and &eep the loot to himself. 'verything ta&en . . . must be shared . . ., without any man en-oying a penny more than his faire share. To prevent deceit, before the booty is distributed everyone has to swear an oath on the "ible that he has not &ept for himself so much as the value of a si5pence. . . . +nd should any man be found to have made a false oath, he would be banished from the rovers, and never be allowed in their company.... Dhen they have captured a ship, the buccaneers set the prisoners on shore as soon as possible, apart from two or three whom they &eep to do the coo&ing and other wor& they themselves do not care for, releasing these men after two or three years. The rovers fre?uently put in for fresh supplies at some island or other, often . . . lying off the south coast of 8uba.... 'veryone goes ashore and sets up his tent, and they ta&e turns to go on marauding e5peditions in their canoes. They ta&e prisoner . . . poor men who catch and set turtles for a living, to provide for their wives and children. =nce captured, these men have to catch turtle for the rovers as long as they remain on the island. *hould the rovers intend to cruise along a coast where turtle abound, they ta&e the fishermen along with them. The poor fellows may be compelled to stay away from their wives and families four or five years, with no news whether they are alive or dead. Ale$an%er #. .$Guemelin( The &uccaneers o# 3merica trans( by Ale$is ,rown( >,altimore: Penguin ,ooAs( !<!@( pp. =C:=E. rather than councils. Thus the role of both the 8ouncil of the Indies and the Casa de Contratacion diminished. +fter 1#41, 8harles abolished the monopolies of *eville and 8adi! and permitted other *panish cities to trade with +merica. 3e also opened more *outh +merican and 8aribbean ports to trade and authori!ed some commerce between *panish ports in +merica. In 1##4, he organi!ed a fourth viceroyalty in the region of )io de la Plata, which included much of present-day +rgentina, /ruguay, Paraguay, and "olivia. 9*ee 7ap 1#-1.: Dhile rela5ing *panish trade with and in +merica, 8harles m attempted to increase the efficiency of ta5 collection and to end bureaucratic corruption.

Chapter 11

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion 1#

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+AP =: -)C.0#2ALT).3 )1 LAT)1 A+.0)CA )1 ="C The late.eighteenth.century *iceroyalties in =atin 3merica display the e##ort o# the Spanish &our'on monarchy to esta'lish more direct control o# the colonies, They sought this control through the introduction o# more royal o##icials and 'y esta'lishing more go*ernmental districts,

1; Europe in Transition To achieve those ends, he introduced the institution of the intendant into the *panish 'mpire. These loyal royal bureaucrats were patterned on the (rench intendants made so famous and effective as agents of the absolutism of .ouis GI>. The late-eighteenth-century "ourbon reforms did stimulate the imperial economy. Trade e5panded and became more varied. These reforms, however, also brought the empire more fully under direct *panish control. 7any peninsulares 9persons born in *pain: entered the <ew Dorld to fill new posts, which were often the most profitable -obs in the region. '5panding trade brought more *panish merchants to .atin +merica. The economy remained e5port oriented, and economic life was still organi!ed to benefit *pain. +s a result of these policies, the Creoles 9persons of 'uropean descent born in the *panish colonies: came to feel they were second-class sub-ects. In time, their resentment would provide a ma-or source of the discontent leading to the wars of independence in the early nineteenth century. The imperial reforms of 8harles III were the *panish e?uivalent of the new colonial measures underta&en by the "ritish government after 1#40, which led to the +merican )evolution.

,la*A Afri*an 3la'ery( the Plantation 3ystem( an% the Atlanti* .*onomy

Dithin various parts of 'urope itself, slavery had e5isted since ancient times. "efore the eighteenth century, little or no moral or religious stigma was attached to slave owning or slave trading. It had a continuous e5istence in the 7editerranean world, where only the sources of slaves changed over the centuries. +fter the con?uest of 8onstantinople in the mid-fifteenth century the =ttoman 'mpire forbade the e5portation of white slaves from regions under its control. The Portuguese then began to import +frican slaves into the Iberian Peninsula from the 8anary Islands and Dest +frica. "lac& slaves from +frica were also not uncommon in other parts of the 7editerranean, and a few found their way into northern 'urope. There they might be used as personal servants or displayed because of the novelty of their color in the courts of royalty or homes of the wealthy. "ut from the si5teenth century onward, first within the Dest Indies and the *panish and Portuguese settlements in *outh +merica and then in the "ritish colonies on the *outh +tlantic seaboard of <orth +merica, slave labor became a fundamental social and economic factor. The development of those plantation economies based on slave labor led to an unprecedented interaction between the peoples of 'urope and +frica and between the 'uropean settlers in the +mericas and +frica. It was from that point onward that +frica and +fricans became drawn into the Destern e5perience as never before in history.

T8. AF0)CA1 P0.3.1C. )1 T8. A+.0)CA3

=nce they had encountered and begun to settle the <ew Dorld, the con?uering *panish and Portuguese faced a severe shortage of labor. They and most of the (rench and 'nglish settlers who came later had no intention of underta&ing manual wor& themselves. +t first, they used <ative +mericans as laborers, but during the si5teenth century as well as afterward, disease &illed hundreds of thousands of the native population. +s a result, labor soon became scarce. The *panish and Portuguese then turned to the labor of imported +frican slaves. *ettlers in the 'nglish colonies of <orth +merica during the seventeenth century turned more slowly to slavery, with the largest number coming to the 8hesapea&e "ay region of >irginia and 7aryland and then later into the low country of the 8arolinas. Dhich +frican peoples became sold into slavery during any given decade very largely depended on internal +frican warfare and state-building. *uch would continue to be the situation until the end of the transatlantic slave trade in the nineteenth century. The ma-or sources for slaves were slave mar&ets in 8entral Dest +frica in *enegambia, *ierra .eone, the old 8oast, the "ight of "enin, and the "ight of "iafra. *lavery and an e5tensive slave trade had e5isted in these as well as other regions of +frica for hundreds of years. ,ust as particular social and economic conditions in 'urope had led to the voyages of e5ploration and settlement, political and military conditions in the +frican continent and warfare among various +frican nations simiharly created a supply of slaves that certain +frican societies were willing to sell to 'uropeans. In that respect, 'uropean slave traders did not confront a passive situation in Dest +frica over which they e5ercised their will by force and commerce. )ather, they encountered dynamic +frican societies wor&ing out their own internal historic power relationships and rivalries, one characteristic of which was +fricans selling and ac?uiring other +fricans from different regions and nations as slaves. The Dest Indies, "ra!il, and *ugar To grasp the full impact of the forced immigration of +fricans on the +mericas, we must ta&e into account both continents and the entire picture of the transatlantic

Chapter 11 : The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion

This eighteenth.century print sho(s 'ound 3#rican capti*es 'eing #orced to a sla*ing port, It (as largely 3#rican middlemen (ho captured sla*es in the interior and marched them to the Coast, 1orth 4in% Pi*ture Ar*hi'es

economy. (ar more slaves were imported into the Dest Indies and "ra!il than into <orth +merica. +lthough citi!ens of the /nited *tates mar& the beginning of slavery in 141$ with the arrival of +frican slaves on a Dutch ship in ,amestown, >irginia, over a century of slave trading in the Dest Indies and *outh +merica had preceded that event. Indeed, by the late si5teenth century, +fricans had become a ma-or social presence on the islands of the Dest Indies and in the ma-or cities of both *panish and Portuguese *outh +merica. That presence and influence in those regions would grow over the centuries. +frican labor and +frican immigrant slave communities were the most prominent social feature of those regions, ma&ing the development of those economies and cultures what one historian has described as "a 'uro-+frican phenomenon."% There, +frican slaves e?ualed or more generally surpassed the numbers of white 'uropean settlers in what soon constituted multiracial societies. *omeone passing through the mar&etplace of those towns and cities would have heard a vast number of different +frican, as well as 'uropean, languages. +lthough <ative +merican labor continued to be e5ploited on the *outh +merican continent, it was increasingly a marginal presence in the evere5panding +frican slave-based plantation economy of the +tlantic seaboard, the 8aribbean, and offshore islands. Dithin much of *panish *outh +merica, the numbers of slaves declined during the late seventeenth century, and slavery became somewhat less fundamental there than elsewhere. *lavery continued to e5pand its influence, however, in "ra!il and in the 8aribbean through the spreading cultivation
Tohn Thornton( 3#rica and the 3#ricans in the ;a-ing o# the 3tlantic 9orld 1B00.1800 En% e%. >Cambri%ge( &7: Cambri%ge &ni'ersity Press( !!"@( p. DC.
E

of sugar to meet the demand of the 'uropean mar&et. "y the close of the seventeenth century, the 8aribbean islands were the world center for the production of sugar and the chief supplier for the evergrowing consumer demand for the product. The opening of new areas of cultivation and other economic enterprises re?uired additional slaves during the eighteenth century, a period of ma-or slave importation. The growing prosperity of sugar islands that had begun to be e5ploited in the late seventeenth century, as well as new sugar, coffee, and tobacco regions of "ra!il, where gold mining also re?uired additional slaves, accounts for this increase in slave commerce and allowed higher prices to be paid for slaves. In "ra!il, the Dest Indies, and the southern "ritish colonies, prosperity and slavery went hand in hand. + vast increase in the number of +fricans brought as slaves to the +mericas occurred during the eighteenth century, with the ma-ority arriving in the 8aribbean or "ra!il. 'arly in the century, as many as %2,222 new +fricans a year arrived in the Dest Indies as slaves. "y 1#%1, it has been estimated, almost $2 percent of the population of ,amaica was blac& slaves. +fter the middle of the century, for some time the numbers were even larger. The influ5 of new +fricans in most areasCeven in the "ritish coloniesCmeant the numbers of new forced immigrants outnumbered the slaves of +frican descent already present. <ewly imported +frican slaves were needed because the fertility rate of the earlier slave population was low and the death rate high from disease, overwor&, and malnutrition. The Dest Indies proved a particularly difficult region in which to secure a stable, self-reproducing slave population. The conditions for slaves there simply led to very high rates of mortality with new slaves coming primarily

%2 Europe in Transition from the ongoing slave trade. + similar situation prevailed in "ra!il. )estoc&ing through the slave trade meant the slave population of those areas consisted of +frican-born persons rather than of persons of +frican descent. 8onse?uently, one of the &ey factors in the social life of many of the areas of +merican slavery during the eighteenth century was the presence of persons newly arrived from +frica, carrying with them +frican languages, religion, culture, and local +frican ethnic identities that they would infuse into the already e5isting slave communities. Thus the eighteenth century witnessed an enormous impact of a new +frican presence throughout the +mericas.

3LA-.02 A16 T8. T0A13ATLA1T)C .C#1#+2

Different nations dominated the slave trade in different periods. During the si5teenth century, the Portuguese and the *panish were most involved. The Dutch supplanted them during most of the seventeenth century. Thereafter, during the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the 'nglish constituted the chief slave traders. (rench traders also participated. *lavery touched most of the economy of the transatlantic world. 8olonial trade followed roughly a geographic triangle. 'uropean goodsC?uite often gunsCwere carried to +frica to be e5changed for slaves, who were then ta&en to the Dest Indies, where they were traded for sugar and other tropical products, which were then shipped to 'urope. <ot all ships covered all three legs of the triangle. +nother ma-or trade pattern e5isted between <ew 'ngland and the Dest Indies with <ew 'ngland fish or ship stores being traded for sugar. +t various moments, the prosperity of such cities as +msterdam, .iverpool, 'ngland, and <antes, (rance, rested very largely on the slave trade. 8ities in the "ritish <orth +merican colonies, such as <ewport, )hode Island, profited from slavery sometimes by trading in slaves, but more often by supplying other goods to the Dest Indian mar&et. +ll the shippers who handled cotton, tobacco, and sugar depended on slavery, though they might not have had direct contact with the institution, as did all the manufacturers and merchants who produced the finished products for the consumer mar&et. 9*ee "+rt N the DestF + Dramatic 7oment in the Transatlantic Dorld," p. 1;2.: +s had been the case during previous centuries, eighteenth-century political turmoil in +frica, such as the Rongo civil wars, made possible the increasing supply of slaves during that period. These Rongo wars had originated in a dispute over succession in the late seventeenth century and continued into the eighteenth. In some cases, captives were simply sold to 'uropean slave traders calling at ports along the Dest +frican coast. In other cases, +frican leaders conducted slave raids so their captives could be sold to further finance the purchase of weapons for warfare. *imilar political unrest and turmoil in the old 8oast during the eighteenth century led to an increased supply of +frican captives to be sold into +merican slavery. 8onse?uently, there e5isted a close relationship between warfare in Dest +frica, often far into the interior, and the economic development of the +merican +tlantic seaboard.

T8. .LP.0).1C. #F 3LA-.02

The Portuguese, *panish, Dutch, (rench, and 'nglish slave traders forcibly transported several million 9perhaps more than $ million, the e5act numbers being in much dispute: +fricans to the <ew DorldC the largest e5ample of forced intercontinental migration in human history. During the first four centuries of settlement, far more blac& slaves came involuntarily to the <ew Dorld than did free 'uropean settlers or 'uropean indentured servants. The conditions of slavesB passage across the +tlantic were wretched. 9*ee "+ *lave Trader Describes the +tlantic Passage.": Iuarters were unspea&ably cramped, food was bad, disease was rampant. 7any +fricans died during the crossing. There were always more +frican men than women transported, so it was difficult to &eep any form of traditional +frican e5tended family structures in place. During the passage and later, many +fricans attempted to recreate such structures among themselves, even if they were not actually related by direct family ties. 9*ee "=laudah '?uiano )ecalls 3is '5perience at the *lave 7ar&et in "arbados.": In the +mericas, the slave population stood divided among new +fricans recently arrived, old +fricans who had lived there for some years, and Creoles who were the descendants of earlier generations of +frican slaves. Plantation owners preferred the two latter groups, who were accustomed to the life of slavery. They sold for higher prices. The newly arrived +fricans were sub-ected to a process &nown as seasoning whereby they were prepared for the laborious discipline of slavery and made to understand they were no longer free. The process might involve receiving new names, ac?uiring new wor& s&ills, and learning, to an e5tent, the local 'uropean language. In some cases, newly arrived +fricans would

Chapter 11

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion %1

A SLA*E TRA+ER +ESCRIBES THE ATLANTIC PASSAGE

4uring 16A> and 16AB Captain Thomas Phillips carried sla*es #rom 3#rica to &ar'ados on the ship 3annibal. The #inancial 'ac-er o# the *oyage (as the Royal 3#rican Company o# =ondon (hich held an English cro(n monopoly on sla*e trading Phillips sailed to the (est coast o# 3#rica (here he purchased the 3#ricans (ho (ere sold into sla*ery 'y an 3#rican -ing, Then he set sail (est(ard, / 9ho are the *arious people descri'ed in this document (ho in one (ay or another (ere in*ol*ed in or pro#ited #rom the sla*e trade0 9hat dangers did the 3#ricans #ace on the *oyage0 9hat contemporary attitudes could ha*e led this ship captain to treat and thin- o# his human cargo simply as goods to 'e transported0 9hat are the grounds o# his sel#.pity #or the di##iculties he met0 T Taving bought my complement of #22 slaves, 6;2 XT men and %%2 women, and finishBd all my business at Dhidaw @on the old 8oast of +fricaA, I too& my leave of the old &ing and his cappasheirs @attendantsA, and parted, with many affectionate e5pressions on both sides, being forced to promise him that I would return again the ne5t year, with several things he desired me to bring from 'nglandQQQQI set sail the %#th of ,uly in the morning, accompanyBd with the 'ast-India 7erchant, who had bought 412 slaves, for the Island of *t. Thomas. . . from which we too& our departure on +ugust %1th and set sail for "arbadoes. De spent in our passage from *t. Thomas to "arbadoes two months eleven days, from the %1th of +ugust to the 6th of <ovember followingF in which time there happened such sic&ness and mortality among my poor men and <egroes. =f the first we buried 16, and of the last 0%2, which was a great detriment to our voyage, the )oyal +frican 8ompany losing tenpounds by every slave that died, and the owners of the ship ten pounds ten shillings, being the freight agreed on to be paid by the charterparty for every <egro delivered alive ashore to the +frican 8ompanyBs agents at "arbadoes. . . . The loss in all amounted to near 4122 pounds sterling. The distemper which my men as well as the blac&s mostly died of was the white flu5, which was so violent and inveterate that no medicine would in the least chec& it, so that when any of our men were sei!ed with it, we esteemed him a dead man, as he generally proved.... The <egroes are so incident to the small-po5 that few ships that carry them escape without it, and sometimes it ma&es vast havoc& and destruction among them. "ut thoB we had 122 at a time sic& of it, and that it went throB the ship, yet we lost not above a do!en by it. +ll the assistance we gave the diseased was only as much water as they desirBd to drin&, and some palm-oil to armoint their sores, and they would generally recover without any other helps but what &ind nature gave them---"ut what the small po5 sparBd, the flu5 swept off, to our great regret, after all our pains and care to give them their messes in due order and season, &eeping their lodgings as clean and sweet as possible, and enduring so much misery and stench so long among a parcel of creatures nastier than swine, and after all our e5pectations to be defeated by their mortality.... <o gold-finders can endure so much noisome slavery as they do who carry <egroesL for those have some respite and satisfaction, but we endure twice the miseryL and yet by their mortality our voyages are ruinBd, and we pine and fret ourselves to %eat7 and ta&e so much pains to so little purpose. From Thomas Phillips( JJournal(J 3 Collection o# Eoyages and Tra*els -ol. <( e%. by Awnsham an% John Chur*hill >Lon%on( =D<@( as Guote% in Thomas 8owar%( e%.( &lac- Eoyage2 Eye(itness 3ccounts o# the 3tlantic Sla*e Trade >,oston: Little( ,rown( != @( pp. "F:"=. wor& in a &ind of apprentice relationship to an older +frican slave of similar ethnic bac&ground. =ther slaves were bro&en into slave labor through wor& on field gangs. =ccasionally, plantation owners would prefer to buy younger +fricans, whom they thought might be more easily acculturated to the labor conditions of the +mericas. enerally, it was only such recently arrived +fricans, seasoned in the Dest Indies, whom <orth +merican plantation owners were willing to purchase.

%% Europe in Transition

O L A U + A H E 4 U I A N O R E C A L L S H I S E 5 P E R I E N C E AT T H E S L A * E BARBA+OS

AR6ET IN

Olaudah E7uiano composed one o# the most popular and in#luential sla*e narrati*es o# the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, 1e had led a remar-a'le li#e, &orn in 9est 3#rica in (hat is today 8igeria he spent his early li#e among the I'o, 1e (as captured and sold into sla*ery ma-ing the dreaded 3tlantic crossing descri'ed in the pre*ious document, In the passage that #ollo(s he recounts his arri*al in &ar'ados and the e!perience o# cultural disorientation sale into sla*ery and seeing 3#ricans separated #rom their #amilies, E7uiano+s li#e did not end in sla*ery the most destructi*e aspects o# (hich he also descri'ed in *i*id detail, 1e achie*ed his #reedom and then led an ad*enturesome li#e on *arious commercial and military ships plying the Cari''ean the 3tlantic and the ;editerranean, 1e also made a trip to the 3rctic Ocean, E7uiano+s account conse7uently descri'es not only the li#e o# a person ta-en #rom 3#rica and sold into 3merican sla*ery 'ut also the li#e o# a person (ho once #ree e!plored the entire transatlantic (orld, 1is auto'iographical narrati*e (hich #irst appeared in 178A and displayed E7uiano+s (ide reading ser*ed t(o purposes #or the antisla*ery campaign that commenced in the second hal# o# the eighteenth century, $See JThe 9est K% the 9orld J pp, 7>6.7B1,% <irst it pro*ided a #irsthand report o# the sla*e e!perience in crossing #rom 3#rica to 3merica, Second his po(er#ul rhetoric and clear arguments demonstrated that i# #ree 3#ricans could achie*e real personal independence, ;any de#enders o# sla*ery had denied that 3#ricans possessed the character and intelligence to 'e #ree persons, / 9hat (ere the #ears o# the 3#ricans on the sla*e ship as they approached the port0 1o( (ere older sla*es in &ar'ados used to calm their #ears0 1o( did the sale o# sla*es proceed0 9hat happened to 3#rican #amilies in the process o# the sale0 .anguage and 8ulture The plantation to which the slaves eventually arrived always lay in a more or less isolated rural setting, but its inhabitants usually could visit their counterparts on other plantations or in nearby towns on mar&et days. Dithin the sharply restricted confines of slavery, the recently arrived +fricans were able at least for a time to sustain elements of their own culture and social structures. (rom the Dest Indies southward throughout the eighteenth century, there were more people whose first language was +frican rather than 'uropean. (or e5ample, 8oromantee was the predominant language on ,amaica. In *outh 8arolina and on *t. Domingue, Ri&ongo was the language most commonly spo&en among +frican slaves. It would ta&e more than two generations for the colonial language to dominate, and even then what often resulted was a dialect combining an +frican and a 'uropean language. Through these languages, +fricans on plantation estates could organi!e themselves into nations with similar, though not necessarily identical, ethnic ties to regions of Dest +frica. The loyalty achieved through a shared +frican language in the +merican setting created a solidarity among +frican slaves that was wider than what in +frica had probably been a primary loyalty to a village. These nations organi!ed and sustained by the plantation e5perience might also become the basis for a wide variety of religious communities among +frican slaves that might have some &ind of roots in their +frican e5perience. In this manner, some +fricans maintained a loyalty to the Islamic faith of their homeland. 7any of the +frican nations on plantations, such as those of "ra!il, organi!ed lay brotherhoods that carried out various &inds of charitable wor& within the slave communities. In the +mericas,

Chapter 11 I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion %0 S t last, we came in sight. . . of "arbados, . . . and 5Swe soon anchored. . . off "ridgetown. 7any merchants and planters now came on board. . . . They put us in separate parcels, and e5amined us attentively. They also made us -ump, and pointed to the land, signifying we were to go there. De thought by this we should be eaten by these ugly men, as they appeared to us L and when, soon after we were all put down under the dec& again, there was much dread and trembling among us, and nothing but bitter cries to be heard all the night from these apprehension, insomuch that at last the white people got some old slaves from the land to pacify us. They told us we were not to be eaten, but to wor&, and were soon to go on land, where we should see many of our country people. This report eased us muchQQQQ De were conducted immediately to the merchantBs yard, where we were all pent up together li&e so many sheep in a fold, without regard to se5 or age. +s every ob-ect was new to me, everything filled me with surprise . . . and indeed I thought these people were full of nothing but magical artsQQQQDe were not many days in the merchantBs custody before we were sold after their usual manner which was thisF =n a signal given 9as the beat of a drum:, the buyers rush at once into the yard where the slaves are confined, and ma&e choice of that parcel they li&e best. The noise and clamour with which this is attended, and the eagerness visible in the countenances of the buyers, serve not a little to increase the apprehension of the terrified +fricans, who may well be supposed to consider them as the ministers of that destruction to which they thin& themselves devoted. In this manner, without scruple, relations and friends separate, most of them never to see each other again. I remember in the vessel in which I was brought over, in the menBs apartment, there were several brothers who, in the sale, were sold in different lotsL and it was very moving on this occasion to see and hear their cries at parting.... *urely this is a new refinement in cruelty, which, while it has no advantage to atone for it, thus aggravates distress, and adds fresh horrors even to the wretchedness of slavery.
From The Interesting 8arrati*e o# the =i#e o# Olaudah E7uiano or "usta*us Eassa The 3#rican 9ritten 'y 1imsel# >first publishe% ="!@( as Guote% in 8enry Louis Gates( Jr.( an% 4illiam L. An%rews( e%s.( Pioneers o# the &lac- 3tlantic2 <i*e Sla*e 8arrati*es #rom the Enlightenment 177@.181? >4ashington( 6C: Counterpoint( !!"@( pp. EE :EE?.

the various +frican nations would elect their own &ings and ?ueens, who might preside over gatherings of the members of the nation drawn from various plantations. The shared language of a particular +frican nation in an +merican setting provided a means for e5clusive communication among slaves on the occasions of revolts such as that in *outh 8arolina in 1#0$, in ,amaica in the early 1#42s, and, most successfully, during the 3aitian )evolution of the 1#$2s. In the *outh 8arolina revolt, the slave owners believed their slaves had communicated among themselves by playing +frican drums. In the aftermath of the revolt, the owners attempted to suppress the presence of such drum playing in the slave community. Daily .ife The life conditions of plantation slaves differed from colony to colony. "lac& slaves living in Portuguese areas had the fewest legal protections. In the *panish colonies, the church attempted to provide some protection for blac& slaves, but devoted more effort toward protecting the <ative +mericans. *lave codes were developed in the "ritish and the (rench colonies during the seventeenth century, but they provided only the most limited protection to slaves while assuring dominance to owners. >irtually all slave owners feared a revolt, and legislation and other regulations were intended to prevent one. +ll slave laws favored the master rather than the slave. *lave masters were permitted to whip slaves and inflict other e5ceedingly harsh corporal punishment. (urthermore, slaves were often forbidden to gather in large groups lest they plan a revolt. In most of these slave societies, the marriages of slaves were not recogni!ed by law. .egally, the children of slaves continued to be slaves and were owned by the owner of their parents.

%6 Europe in Transition
=oading plan #or the main dec-s o# the >@0.ton sla*e ship ,rooAes. The ,rooAes (as only @? #eet (ide and 100 #eet long 'ut as many as 60A sla*es (ere crammed on 'oard #or the nightmarish passage to the 3mericas, The a*erage space allo(ed each person (as only a'out 78 inches 'y 16 inches, The document #rom Thomas Phillips+s :ournal descri'es the *oyage across the 3tlantic, $See J3 Sla*e Trader 4escri'es the 3tlantic Passage,J%
Photographs an% Prints 6i'ision( 3*homburg Center for 0esear*h in ,la*A Culture( The 1ew 2orA Publi* Library( Astor( Leno$ an% Til%en Foun%ations

The daily life of most slaves during these centuries was one of hard agricultural labor, poor diet, and inade?uate housing. *lave families could be separated by the owner during his life or sold separately after his death. Their welfare and their lives were sacrificed to the continuing e5pansion of the sugar, rice, and tobacco plantations that made their owners wealthy and that produced goods for 'uropean consumers. *cholars have sometimes concluded that slaves in one area lived better than in another. Today, it is generally accepted that all the slaves in plantation societies led e5posed and difficult lives with little variation among them. Con'ersion to Christianity The +frican slaves who were transported to the +mericas, were, li&e the <ative +mericans, eventually converted in most cases to 8hristianity. In the *panish, (rench, and Portuguese domains, they became )oman 8atholics, and in the 'nglish colonies they became Protestants of one denomination or another. "oth forms of 8hristianity preached to slaves the acceptance of their situation and a natural social hierarchy with masters at the top. +lthough +frican religion of a systematic character eventually disappeared, especially in the "ritish colonies, some +frican religious practices survived in muted forms, gradually separated from +frican religious belief. These included an +frican understanding of nature and the cosmos and the belief in witches and other people with special spiritual powers, such as con-urers, healers, and practitioners of voodoo. +lthough slaves did manage to mi5 8hristianity with their previous +frican religions, their conversion to 8hristianity was nonetheless another e5ample, li&e that of the <ative +mericans, of the crushing of a set of non-'uropean cultural values in the conte5t of the <ew Dorld economies and social structures. .uropean 0a*ial Attitu%es The 'uropean settlers in the +mericas and the slave traders also carried with them pre-udices against blac& +fricans. 7any 'uropeans considered +fricans to be savages or less than civili!ed. *till others loo&ed down on them simply because they were slaves. "oth 8hristians and 7uslims had shared these attitudes in the 7editerranean world, where slavery had for so long

Chapter 1 1

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion %1

Sla*es on the plantations o# the 3merican South (ere the chattel property o# their masters and their li*es (ere grim, Some artists sought to disguise this harsh reality 'y depicting the lighter moments o# sla*e society as in this scene o# sla*es dancing, Getty )mages )n*.T 8ulton Ar*hi'e Photos

e5isted. (urthermore, many 'uropean languages and cultures attached negative connotations to the idea and image of blac&ness. In virtually all these plantation societies, race was an important element in &eeping blac& slaves in a position of mar&ed subservience. +lthough racial thin&ing in regard to slavery became important primarily in the nineteenth century, the fact of slaves being differentiated from the rest of the population by race, as well as by their being chattel property, was fundamental to the system. +ll of these factors formed the racial pre-udice that continues to plague society today in the former slave-owning regions. The plantations that stretched from the middle +tlantic colonies of <orth +merica through the Dest Indies and into "ra!il constituted a vast corridor of slave societies in which social and economic subordination was based on both involuntary servitude and race. These societies had not e5isted before the 'uropean discovery and e5ploitation of the resources of the +mericas. In its e5tent and totality of dependence on slave labor and racial differences, this &ind of society was novel in both 'uropean and world history. +s already noted, its social and economic influence touched not only the plantation societies themselves, but Dest +frica, western 'urope, and <ew 'ngland. It e5isted from the si5teenth century through the second half of the nineteenth century, when the emancipation of slaves had been completed through the slave revolt of *aint Domingue 91#$6:, "ritish outlawing of the slave trade 91;2#:, the .atin +merican wars of independence, the 'mancipation Proclamation of 1;40 in the /nited *tates, and the "ra!ilian emancipation of 1;;;. To the present day, every society in which plantation slavery once e5isted still contends with the long-term effects of that institution.

+i%:.ighteenthKCentury 4ars

(rom the standpoint of international relations, the state system of the middle of the eighteenth century was ?uite unstable and tended to lead the ma-or states of 'urope into periods of prolonged warfare. The statesmen of the period generally assumed that warfare could be used to further national interests. There were essentially no forces or powers who saw it in their interest to prevent war or to maintain peace. "ecause eighteenth-century wars before the (rench )evolution were fought by professional armies and navies, civilian populations were rarely drawn deeply into the conflicts. Dars were not associated with domestic political or social upheaval, and peace was not associated with the achievement of international stability. 8onse?uently, periods of peace at the conclusion of a war were often viewed simply as times when a nation might become strong enough to recommence warfare at a later period for the purpose of sei!ing another nationBs territory or of invading another empireBs area of trading monopoly. There were two fundamental areas of great power rivalryF the overseas empires and central and eastern 'urope. +lliances and general strategic concerns repeatedly interrelated these regions of conflict.

T8. 4A0 #F J.17)13O3 .A0

In the middle of the eighteenth century, the Dest Indies had become a hotbed of trade rivalry. *pain attempted to tighten its monopoly, and 'nglish

%4 Europe in Transition smugglers, shippers, and pirates attempted to pierce it. 7atters came to a clima5 in the late 1#02s. The Treaty of /trecht 91#10: gave two special privileges to reat "ritain in the *panish 'mpire. The "ritish received a thirty-year asiento or contract, to furnish slaves to the *panish. "ritain also gained the right to send one ship each year to the trading fair at Portobello, a ma-or 8aribbean seaport on the Panamanian coast. These two privileges allowed "ritish traders and smugglers potential inroads into the *panish mar&et. .ittle but friction arose from those rights. During the night, offshore, "ritish ships often resupplied the annual legal Portobello ship with additional goods as it lay in port. 7uch to the chagrin of the "ritish, the *panish government too& its own alleged trading monopoly seriously and maintained coastal patrols, which boarded and searched 'nglish vessels to loo& for contraband. In 1#01, during one such boarding operation, there was a fight, and the *paniards cut off the ear of an 'nglish captain named )obert ,en&ins. Thereafter he carried about his severed ear preserved in a -ar of brandy. This incident was of little importance until 1#0;, when ,en&ins appeared before the "ritish Parliament, reportedly brandishing his ear as an e5ample of *panish atrocities to "ritish merchants in the Dest Indies. The "ritish merchant and Dest Indies interests put great pressure on Parliament to relieve *panish intervention in their trade. *ir )obert Dalpole 914#4-1#61:, the "ritish prime minister, could not resist these pressures. In late 1#0$, reat "ritain went to war with *pain. This war might have been a relatively minor incident, but because of developments in continental 'uropean politics, it became the opening encounter to a series of 'uropean wars fought across the world until 1;11.

T8. 4A0 #F T8. A&3T0)A1 3&CC.33)#1 > =DC: =D"@

In December 1#62, after being &ing of Prussia for less than seven months, (rederic& II sei!ed the +ustrian province of *ilesia in eastern ermany. The invasion shattered the provisions of the Pragmatic *anction 9see 8hapter 11: and upset the continental balance of power as established by the Treaty of /trecht. The young &ing of Prussia had treated the 3ouse of 3absburg simply as another erman state rather than as the leading power in the region. *ilesia itself rounded out PrussiaBs possessions, and (rederic& was determined to &eep his ill-gotten pri!e. 7aria Theresa Preserves the 3absburg 'mpire The Prussian sei!ure of *ilesia could have mar&ed the opening of a general hunting season on 3absburg holdings and the beginning of revolts by 3absburg sub-ects. Instead, it led to new political allegiances. 7aria TheresaBs great achievement was not the re-con?uest of *ilesia, which eluded her, but the preservation of the 3absburg 'mpire as a ma-or political power. 7aria Theresa was then only twenty-three and had succeeded to the 3absburg realms only two months before the invasion. *he won loyalty and support from her various sub-ects not merely through her heroism, but, more specifically, by granting new privileges to the nobility. 7ost significant, the empress recogni!ed 3ungary as the most important of her crowns and promised the 7agyars considerable local autonomy. *he thus preserved the 3absburg state, but at considerable cost to the power of the central monarchy. 3ungary would continue to be, as it had been in the past, a particularly troublesome area in the 3absburg 'mpire. Dhen the monarchy en-oyed periods of strength and security, guarantees made to 3ungary could be ignored. +t times of wea&ness or when the 7agyars could stir enough opposition, the monarchy promised new concessions. (rance Draws reat "ritain into the Dar The war over the +ustrian succession and the "ritish-*panish commercial conflict could have remained separate disputes. Dhat ?uic&ly united them was the role of (rance. ,ust as "ritish merchant interests had pushed *ir )obert Dalpole into war, a group of aggressive court aristocrats compelled the elderly 8ardinal (leury 91410-1#60:, first minister of .ouis G>, to abandon his planned naval attac& on "ritish trade and instead to support the Prussian aggression against +ustria, the traditional enemy of (rance. This was among the more fateful decisions in (rench history. In the first place, aid to Prussia consolidated a new and powerful state in ermany. That new power could, and indeed later did, endanger (rance. *econd, the (rench move against +ustria brought reat "ritain into the continental war, as "ritain sought to ma&e sure the .ow 8ountries remained in the friendly hands of +ustria, not (rance. In 1#66, the "ritish-(rench conflict e5panded beyond the 8ontinent, as (rance decided to support *pain against "ritain in the <ew Dorld. +s a result, (rench military and economic resources were badly divided. (rance could not bring sufficient strength to the colonial struggle. 3aving chosen to continue the old struggle with +ustria, (rance lost the struggle for the future against reat "ritain. The war ended in stalemate in 1#6; with the Treaty of +i5-la-8hapelle. Prussia retained *ilesia, and *pain

Chapter 1 1

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion %#

;aria Theresa o# 3ustria pro*ided the leadership that sa*ed the 1a's'urg Empire #rom possi'le disintegration a#ter the Prussian in*asion o# Silesia in 11B0, 7unsthistoris*hes +useum( -ienna

renewed the asiento agreement with truce rather than a permanent peace.

reat "ritain. 7ost observers rightly thought the treaty was a

T8. J6)PL#+AT)C 0.-#L&T)#1J #F

"efore the rivalries again erupted into war, a dramatic shift of alliances too& place. In ,anuary 1#14, Prussia and reat "ritain signed the 8onvention of Destminster, a defensive alliance aimed at preventing the entry of foreign troops into the ermanies. (rederic& II feared invasions by both )ussia and (rance. The convention meant that reat "ritain, the ally of +ustria since the wars of .ouis GT>, had now -oined forces with +ustriaBs ma-or eighteenth-century enemy. 7aria Theresa was despondent over this development. It delighted her foreign minister, Prince Den!el +nton Raunit! 91#11-1#$6:, however. 3e had long hoped for an alliance with (rance to help dismember Prussia. The 8onvention of Destminster made possible this alliance, which would have been unthin&able a few years earlier. (rance was agreeable because (rederic& had not consulted with its ministers before coming to his understanding with "ritain. *o, later in 7ay 1#14, (rance and +ustria signed a defensive alliance. Raunit! had succeeded in completely reversing the direction that (rench foreign policy had followed since the si5teenth century. (rance would now fight to restore +ustrian supremacy in central 'urope.

=F<

T8. 3.-.1 2.A03O 4A0 > =F<: =<?@

+lthough the Treaty of +i5-la-8hapelle had brought peace in 'urope, (rance and reat "ritain continued to struggle unofficially on the colonial front. There were constant clashes between their settlers in the =hio )iver valley and in upper <ew 'ngland. These were the prelude to what is &nown in +merican history as the (rench and Indian Dar. =nce again, however, (rederic& II precipitated a 'uropean war that e5tended into a colonial theater.

%; Europe in Transition (rederic& the reat =pens 3ostilities In +ugust 1#14, (rederic& II opened what would become the *even HearsB Dar by invading *a5ony. (rederic& considered this to be a preemptive stri&e against a conspiracy by *a5ony, +ustria, and (rance to destroy Prussian power. 3e regarded the invasion as a continuation of the defensive strategy of the 8onvention of Destminster. The invasion itself, however, created the very destructive alliance that (rederic& feared. In the spring of 1#1#, (rance and +ustria made a new alliance dedicated to the destruction of Prussia. They were eventually -oined by *weden, )ussia, and many of the smaller erman states. 9*ee "(rederic& the reat )allies 3is =fficers for "attle.": Two factors in addition to (rederic&Bs stubborn leadership 9it was after this war that he came to be called (rederic& the reat: saved Prussia. (irst, "ritain furnished considerable financial aid. *econd, in 1#4%, 'mpress 'li!abeth of )ussia died. 3er successor was Tsar Peter III 9he was murdered the same year:, whose admiration for (rederic& was boundless. 3e immediately made peace with Prussia, thus relieving (rederic& of one enemy and allowing him to hold off +ustria and (rance. The Treaty of 3ubertusburg of 1#40 ended the continental conflict with no significant changes in prewar borders. *ilesia remained Prussian, and Prussia clearly stood among the ran&s of the great powers. Dilliam PittBs *trategy for Dimiing <orth +merica The survival of Prussia was less impressive to the rest of 'urope than were the victories of reat "ritain in every theater of conflict. The architect of these victories was Dilliam Pitt the 'lder 91#2;1##;:. Pitt was a person of colossal ego and administrative genius who had grown up in a commercial family. +lthough he had previously critici!ed "ritish involvement with the 8ontinent, once he became secretary of state in charge of the war in 1#1#, he reversed himself and pumped huge financial subsidies into the coffers of (rederic& the reat. 3e regarded the erman conflict as a way to divert (rench resources and attention from the colonial struggle. 3e later boasted of having won +merica on the plains of ermany. <orth +merica was the center of PittBs real concern. Put ?uite simply, he wanted all of <orth +merica east of the 7ississippi for reat "ritain, and that was e5actly what he won. 3e sent more than 62,222 regular 'nglish and colonial troops against the (rench in 8anada. <ever had so many soldiers been devoted to a field of colonial warfare. 3e achieved unprecedented cooperation with the +merican colonies, whose leaders reali!ed they might finally defeat their (rench neighbors. The (rench government was unwilling and unable to direct similar resources against the 'nglish in +merica. Their military administration was corrupt, the military and political commands in 8anada were divided, and (rance could not ade?uately provision its <orth +merican forces. In *eptember 1#1$, on the Plains of +braham, overloo&ing the valley of the *aint .awrence )iver at Iuebec 8ity, the "ritish army under eneral ,ames Dolfe defeated the (rench under .ieutenant eneral .ouis ,oseph de 7ontcalm. The (rench 'mpire in 8anada was ending. PittBs colonial vision, however, e5tended beyond the *aint .awrence valley and the reat .a&es basin. The ma-or islands of the (rench Dest Indies fell to "ritish fleets. Income from the sale of captured sugar helped finance the "ritish war effort. "ritish slave interests captured the bul& of the
"eneral )ames 9ol#e (as mortally (ounded during his *ictory o*er the <rench at Fue'ec in 17?A, This painting 'y the 3merican artist &en:amin 9est $17>8.18@0% 'ecame #amous #or portraying the dying 9ol#e and the o##icers around him in poses modeled a#ter classical statues, Getty images
)n*.T8ulton Ar*hi'e Photos

Chapter 11

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion %$

,RE+ERIC6 THE GREAT RALLIES HIS O,,ICERS ,OR BATTLE

In 4ecem'er 11?1 <rederic- the "reat o# Prussia addressed his o##icers 'e#ore the &attle o# =euthen (ith the 3ustrians, 3lthough he had recently de#eated the <rench at Ross'ach he remained in a di##icult position (ith &erlin in the hands o# enemy #orces, & 1o( does <rederic- appeal to patriotism and also to #ear o# humiliation on the part o# his o##icers0 1o( does he anticipate o*ercoming his numerical disad*antage0 9hat e*idence does this document pro*ide a'out the -ind o# o'edience and discipline <rederic- e!pected0 ">Tou are aware, gentlemen, that Prince Rarl of X .orraine has succeeded in ta&ing *chweidnit!, defeating the du&e of "evern and ma&ing himself master of "reslau, while I was engaged in chec&ing the advance of the (rench and imperial forces. + part of *chleswig, my capital, and all the military stores it contained, are lost, and I should feel myself in dire straits indeed if it were not for my unbounded confidence in your courage, your constancy, and your love for the fatherland, which you have proved to me on so many occasions in the past.... I should feel that I had accomplished nothing if +ustria were left in possession of *chleswig. .et me tell you that I propose, in defiance of all the rule of the art of war, to attac& the army of Prince Rarl, three times as large as ours, wherever I find it. It is here no ?uestion of the numbers of the enemy nor of the importance of the positions they have occupiedL all this I hope to overcome by the devotion of my troops and the careful carrying out of my plans. I must ta&e this step or all will be lostL we must defeat the enemy, else we shall all lie buriedunder his batteries. *o I believeCso I shall act. 8ommunicate my decision to all the officers of the armyL prepare the common soldier for the e5ertions that are to come, and tell him that I feel -ustified in e5pecting un?uestioning obedience from him. )emember that you are Prussians and you cannot show yourselves unworthy of that distinction---The regiment of cavalry that does not immediately on the receipt of orders throw itselNupon the enemy I will have unmounted immediately after the battle and ma&e it a garrison regiment. The battalion of infantry that even begins to hesitate, no matter what the danger may be, shall lose its flags and its swords and have the gold lace stripped from its uniforms. +nd now, gentlemen, farewellL erelong we shall either have defeated the enemy or we shall see each other no more. James 8ar'ey 0obinson( e%.( Readings in European 1istory -ol. E >1ew 2orA: Ginn ; Company( !C<@( pp. ?E?:?ED. (rench slave trade. "etween =FF and =<C( the value of the (rench colonial trade fell by more than "C percent. In India, the "ritish forces under the command of )obert 8live defeated the (rench in =F= at the "attle of Plassey. This victory opened the way for the eventual con?uest of "engal in northeast India and later of all India by the "ritish 'ast India 8ompany. <ever had reat "ritain or any other 'uropean power e5perienced such a complete worldwide military victory. The Treaty of Paris of 1#40 The Treaty of Paris of =<? reflected somewhat less of a victory than "ritain had won on the battlefield. Pitt was no longer in office. eorge m 9r. =<C: "EC@ and Pitt had ?uarreled over policy, and the minister had departed. 3is replacement was the earl of "ute > = ?: =!E@( a favorite of the new monarch. "ute was responsible for the peace settlement. "ritain received all of 8anada, the =hio )iver valley, and the eastern half of the 7ississippi )iver valley. "ritain returned Pondicherry and 8handernagore in India and the Dest Indian sugar islands of uadeloupe and 7artini?ue to the (rench. The *even HearsB Dar had been a vast conflict. Tens of thousands of soldiers and sailors had been &illed or wounded. 7a-or battles had been fought around the globe. +t great internal sacrifice, Prussia had permanently wrested *ilesia from +ustria and had turned the 3oly )oman 'mpire into an empty

02 Europe in Transition = ? Treaty of &tre*ht =?! #utbreaA of 4ar of JenAinsOs .ar between .nglan% an% 3pain =DC 4ar of the Austrian 3u**ession *ommen*es =D" Treaty of Ai$:la:Chapelle =F< Con'ention of 4estminster between .nglan% an% Prussia =F< 3e'en 2earsO 4ar opens =F= ,attle of Plassey =F! ,ritish for*es *apture 5uebe* =<? Treaty of 8ubertusburg =<? Treaty of Paris shell. 3absburg power now depended largely on the 3ungarian domains. (rance, though still having sources of colonial income, was no longer a great colonial power. The *panish 'mpire remained largely intact, but the "ritish were still determined to penetrate its mar&ets. =n the Indian subcontinent, the "ritish 'ast India 8ompany was able to continue to impose its own authority on the decaying indigenous governments. The ramifications of that situation would e5tend until the middle of the twentieth century. In <orth +merica, the "ritish government faced the tas& of organi!ing its new territories. (rom this time until Dorld Dar n( reat "ritain was a world power, not -ust a 'uropean one. The ?uarter century of warfare also caused a long series of domestic crises among the 'uropean powers. The (rench defeat convinced many people in that nation of the necessity for political and administrative reform. The financial burdens of the wars had astounded all contemporaries. 'very power had to begin to find ways to increase revenues to pay its war debt and to finance its preparation for the ne5t combat. <owhere did this search for revenue lead to more far-ranging conse?uences than in the "ritish colonies in <orth +merica.

The Ameri*an 0e'olution an% .urope

The revolt of the "ritish colonies in <orth +merica was an event in both transatlantic and 'uropean history. It erupted from problems of revenue collection common to all the ma-or powers after the *even HearsB Dar. The Dar of the +merican )evolution also continued the conflict between (rance and reat "ritain. The (rench support of the +mericans deepened the e5isting financial and administrative difficulties of the (rench monarchy.

0.3)3TA1C. T# T8. )+P.0)AL 3.A0C8 F#0 0.-.1&.

+fter the Treaty of Paris of 1#40, the "ritish government faced two imperial problems. The first was the sheer cost of empire, which the "ritish felt they could no longer carry alone. The national debt had risen considerably, as had domestic ta5ation. *ince the +merican colonies had been the chief beneficiaries of the conflict, the "ritish felt it was rational for the colonies henceforth to bear part of the cost of their protection and administration. The second problem was the vast e5panse of new territory in <orth +merica that the "ritish had to organi!e. This included all the land from the mouth of the *aint .awrence )iver to the 7ississippi )iver, with its (rench settlers and, more importantly, its <ative +merican possessors. 9*ee 7ap 1#-%.: The "ritish drive for revenue began in 1#46 with the passage of the *ugar +ct under the ministry of eorge renville 91#1%-1##2:. The measure attempted to produce more revenue from imports into the colonies by the rigorous collection of what was actually a lower ta5. *mugglers who violated the law were to be tried in admiralty courts without -uries. The ne5t year, Parliament passed the *tamp +ct, which put a ta5 on legal documents and certain other items such as newspapers. The "ritish considered these ta5es legal because the decision to collect them had been approved by Parliament. They regarded them as -ust because the money was to be spent in the colonies. The +mericans responded that they alone, through their assemblies, had the right to ta5 themselves and that they were not represented in Parliament. (urthermore, the e5penditure in the colonies of the revenue levied by Parliament did not reassure the colonists. They feared that if colonial government was financed from outside, they would lose control over it. In =ctober 1#41, the *tamp +ct 8ongress met in +merica and drew up a protest to the crown. There was much disorder in the colonies, particularly in 7assachusetts, roused by groups &nown as the *ons of .iberty. The colonists agreed to refuse to import "ritish goods. In 1#44, Parliament repealed the *tamp +ct, but through the Declaratory +ct said it had the power to legislate for the colonies. The *tamp +ct crisis set the pattern for the ne5t ten years. Parliament, under the leadership of a royal minister, would approve revenue or administrative legislation. The +mericans would then resist

Chapter 17 I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion 01 by reasoned argument, economic pressure, and violence. Then the "ritish would repeal the legislation, and the process would begin again. 'ach time, tempers on both sides became more frayed and positions more irreconcilable. Dith each clash, the +mericans more fully developed their own thin&ing about political liberty.

T3' C)I*I* +<D )<D'P'<D'<8'

In 1#4#, 8harles Townshend 91#%1-1#4#:, as 8hancellor of the '5che?uer, the "ritish finance minister, led Parliament to pass a series of revenue acts relating to colonial imports. The colonists again resisted. The ministry sent over its own customs agents to administer the laws. To protect these new officers, the "ritish sent troops to "oston in 1#4;. The obvious tensions resulted. In 7arch 1##2, the "oston 7assacre, in which "ritish troops &illed five citi!ens, too& place. That same year, Parliament repealed all of the Townshend duties e5cept the one on tea. In 7ay 1##0, Parliament passed a new law relating to the sale of tea by the 'ast India 8ompany. The measure permitted the direct importation of tea into the +merican colonies. It actually lowered the price of tea while retaining the ta5 imposed without the colonistsB consent. In some cities, the colonists refused to permit the unloading of the tea,- in "oston, a shipload of tea was thrown into the harbor. The "ritish ministry of .ord <orth 91#0%-1#$%: was determined to assert the authority of Parliament over the resistant colonies. During 1##6, Parliament passed a series of laws &nown in +merican history as the Intolerable +cts. These measures closed the port of "oston, reorgani!ed the government of 7assachusetts, allowed troops to be ?uartered in private homes, and removed the trials of royal customs officials to 'ngland. The same year, Parliament approved the Iuebec +ct for the future administration of 8anada. It e5tended the boundaries of Iuebec to include the =hio )iver valley. The +mericans regarded the Iuebec +ct as an attempt to prevent the e5tension of their mode of selfgovernment westward beyond the +ppalachian 7ountains. During these years, citi!ens critical of "ritish policy had established committees of correspondence throughout the colonies. They made the various sections of the eastern seaboard aware of common problems and aided united action. In *eptember 1##6, these committees organi!ed the gathering of the (irst 8ontinental 8ongress in Philadelphia. This body hoped to persuade Parliament to restore selfgovernment in the colonies and to abandon its attempt at direct supervision of +AP w : .LPL#0AT)#1
In"era!"ive map- To e.p#ore "$is map fur"$er' )o "o $""p-//0001pren$a##1!om/&a)an/map237
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=:E 1#0T8 A+.0)CA )1 =<? In the year o# the *ictory o*er <rance the English colonies lay along the 3tlantic sea'oard, The di##iculties o# organi6ing authority o*er the pre*ious <rench territory in Canada and (est o# the 3ppalachian ;ountains (ould contri'ute to the coming o# the 3merican Re*olution,

L#+.T.03

colonial affairs. 8onciliation, however, was not forthcoming. "y +pril 1##1, the "attles of .e5ington and 8oncord had been fought. In ,une, the colonists suffered defeat at the "attle of "un&er 3ill. Despite that defeat, the colonial assemblies soon began to meet under their own authority rather than under that of the &ing. The *econd 8ontinental 8ongress gathered in 7ay 1##1. It still sought conciliation with "ritain, but the pressure of events led it to begin to conduct the government of the colonies. "y +ugust 1##1, eorge IT, had declared the colonies in rebellion. During the winter, Thomas PaineBs 91#0#-1;2$: pamphlet Common Sense galvani!ed public opinion

0% Europe in Transition
;any 3mericans #iercely o':ected to the &ritish Parliament+s attempts to ta! the colonies, This print o# a &ritish ta! collector 'eing tarred and #eathered (arned o##icials o# (hat could happen to them i# they tried to collect these ta!es, Joseph 9eha'i/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

in favor of separation from reat "ritain. + colonial army and navy were organi!ed. In +pril 1##4, the 8ontinental 8ongress opened +merican ports to the trade of all nations. +nd on ,uly 6, 1##4, the 8ontinental 8ongress adopted the Declaration of Independence. Thereafter, the Dar of the +merican )evolution continued until 1#;1, when the forces of eorge Dashington defeated those of .ord 8ornwallis at Hor&town. 'arly in 1##;, however, the war had widened into a 'uropean conflict when "en-amin (ran&lin 91#24-1#$2: persuaded the (rench government to support the rebellion. In 1##$, the *panish also came to the aid of the colonies. The 1#;0 Treaty of Paris concluded the conflict, and the thirteen +merican colonies had established their independence.

A+.0)CA1 P#L)T)CAL )6.A3

The political ideas of the +merican colonists had largely arisen out of the struggle of seventeenthcentury 'nglish aristocrats and gentry against the absolutism of the *tuart monarchs. The +merican colonists loo&ed to the 'nglish )evolution of 14;; as having established many of their own fundamental political liberties, as well as those of the 'nglish. The colonists claimed that, through the measures imposed from 1#40 to 1##4, eorge 3I and the "ritish Parliament were attac&ing those liberties and dissolving the bonds of moral and political allegiance that had formerly united the two peoples. 8onse?uently, the colonists employed a theory that had developed to -ustify an aristocratic rebellion to support their own popular revolution. These Dhig political ideas, largely derived from the writings of ,ohn .oc&e, were, however, only a part of the 'nglish ideological heritage that affected the +mericans. Throughout the eighteenth century, they had become familiar with a series of "ritish political writers called the 8ommonwealthmen, who held republican political ideas that had their intellectual roots in the most radical thought of the Puritan revolution. During the early eighteenth century, these writers, the most influential of whom were ,ohn Trenchard 9144%-1#%0: and Thomas ordon 9d. 1#12: in Cato+s =etters 91#%2-1#%0:, had relentlessly critici!ed the government patronage and parliamentary management of *ir )obert Dalpole and his successors. They argued that such government was corrupt and undermined liberty. They regarded much parliamentary ta5ation as simply a means of financing political corruption. They also considered standing armies instruments of tyranny. In reat "ritain, this republican political tradition had only a marginal impact. The writers were largely ignored because most "ritish sub-ects regarded themselves as the freest people in the world. Three thousand miles away, however, colonists read the radical boo&s and pamphlets and often accepted them at face value. The policy of reat "ritain toward +merica following the Treaty of Paris of 1#40 and certain political events in "ritain had made many colonists believe the worst fears of the 8ommonwealthmen were coming true. +ll of these events coincided with the accession of eorge IT, to the throne.

.-.1T3 )1 G0.AT ,0)TA)1

eorge 3I 9r. 1#42-1;%2: believed a few powerful Dhig families and the ministries they controlled had bullied and dominated his two immediate royal predecessors. eorge III also believed he should have ministers of his own choice and Parliament should function under royal rather than aristocratic management. Dhen Dilliam Pitt resigned after a disagreement with eorge over war policy, the &ing appointed the earl of "ute as his first minister. In doing so, he ignored the great Dhig families that

Chapter 1 1

I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion 00

The surrender o# =ord Corn(allis+ &ritish army at Lor-to(n Eirginia in 1181 to 3merican and <rench #orces under "eorge 9ashington ended &ritain+s hopes o# suppressing the 3merican Re*olution, John

Trumbull >Ameri*an( =F<: "D?@( Surrender o# =ord Corn(allis at Lor-to(n 1A Octo'er 1781, #il on *an'as( EC=/a $ ?CF/s in*hes. 2ale &ni'ersity Art Gallery( Trumbull Colle*tion.

had run the country since 1#11. The &ing sought the aid of politicians whom the Dhigs hated. 7oreover, he tried to use the same &ind of patronage techni?ues developed by Dalpole to achieve royal control of the 3ouse of 8ommons. "etween 1#41 and 1##2, eorge tried one minister after another, but each in turn failed to gain enough support from the various factions in the 3ouse of 8ommons. (inally, in 1##2, he turned to .ord <orth, who remained the &ingBs first minister until 1#;%. The Dhig families and other political spo&espersons claimed that eorge 111 was attempting to impose a tyranny. Dhat they meant was that the &ing was attempting to curb the power of a particular group of the aristocracy. eorge 3I certainly was see&ing to restore more royal influence to the government of reat "ritain, but he was not attempting to ma&e himself a tyrant. The 8hallenge of ,ohn Dil&es Then, in 1#40 began the affair of ,ohn Dil&es 91#%1-1#$#:. This .ondon political radical and member of Parliament published a newspaper called The 8orth &riton, In issue number 61, Dil&es strongly critici!ed .ord "uteBs handling of the peace negotiations with (rance. Dil&es was arrested under the authority of a general warrant issued by the secretary of state. 3e pleaded the privileges of a member of Parliament and was released. The courts also later ruled that the vague &ind of general warrant by which he had been arrested was illegal. The 3ouse of 8ommons, however, ruled that issue number 61 of The 8orth &riton constituted libel, and it e5pelled Dil&es. 3e soon fled the country and was outlawed. Throughout these procedures there was widespread support for Dil&es, and many popular demonstrations were held in his cause. In 1#4;, Dil&es returned to 'ngland and again stood for election to Parliament. 3e won the election, but the 3ouse of 8ommons, under the influence of eorge 3iBs friends, refused to seat him. 3e was elected three more times. +fter the fourth election, the 3ouse of 8ommons simply ignored the results and seated the government-supported candidate. +s had happened earlier in the decade, large, popular, unruly demonstrations of shop&eepers, artisans, and small-property owners supported Dil&es. 3e also received aid from some aristocratic politicians who wished to humiliate eorge 3I. Dil&es himself contended during all his troubles that his was the cause of 'nglish liberty. "Dil&es and .iberty" became the slogan of all political radicals and many noble opponents of the monarch. Dil&es was finally seated in 1##6, after having become the lord mayor of .ondon. The +merican colonists followed these developments closely. 'vents in "ritain confirmed their fears about a monarchical and parliamentary conspiracy against liberty. The &ing, as their Dhig friends told them, was behaving li&e a tyrant. The Dil&es affair displayed the arbitrary power of the monarch, the corruption of the 3ouse of 8ommons, and the contempt of both for popular electors. That same monarch and Parliament were attempting to overturn the traditional relationship of reat "ritain to its colonies by imposing parliamentary ta5es. The same government had then landed troops in "oston, changed the government of 7assachusetts, and

06 Europe in Transition The 8orse Ameri*a throwing his +aster( an eighteenth.century cartoon $177A% moc-ing "eorge III
a'out the re'ellion o# the 3merican colonies, 3lthough he tried to reassert some o# the monarchical in#luence on &ritain+s politics that had eroded under "eorge I and "eorge II the #irst t(o 1ano*erian -ings "eorge III ne*er sought to ma-e himsel# a tyrant as his critics charged, The Granger Colle*tion

undermined the traditional right of -ury trial. +ll of these events fulfilled too e5actly the portrait of political tyranny that had developed over the years in the minds of articulate colonists. +o'ement for Parliamentary 0eform The political influences between +merica and "ritain operated both ways. The colonial demand for no ta5ation without representation and the criticism of the ade?uacy of the "ritish system of representation struc& at the core of the eighteenth-century "ritish political structure. "ritish sub-ects at home who were no more directly represented in the 3ouse of 8ommons than were the +mericans could adopt the colonial arguments. The colonial ?uestioning of the ta5-levying authority of the 3ouse of 8ommons was related to the protest of ,ohn Dil&es. "oth the +mericans and Dil&es were challenging the power of the monarch and the authority of Parliament. 7oreover, both the colonial leaders and Dil&es appealed over the head of legally constituted political authorities to popular opinion and popular demonstrations. "oth were protesting the power of a largely self-selected aristocratic political body. The "ritish ministry was fully aware of these broader political implications of the +merican troubles. The +merican colonists also demonstrated to 'urope how a politically restive people in the =ld )egime could fight tyranny and protect political liberty. They established revolutionary, but orderly, political bodies that could function outside the e5isting political framewor&F the congress and the convention. These began with the *tamp +ct 8ongress of 1#41 and culminated in the 8onstitutional 8onvention of 1#;#. The legitimacy of those congresses and conventions lay not in e5isting law, but in the alleged consent of the governed. This approach represented a new way to found a government. Toward the end of the Dar of the +merican )evolution, calls for parliamentary reform arose in

Chapter 1 1 I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion 01 "ritain itself. The method proposed for changing the system was the e5tralegal +ssociation 7ovement. The Hor&shire +ssociation 7ovement "y the close of the 1##2s, many in "ritain resented the mismanagement of the +merican war, the high ta5es, and .ord <orthBs ministry. In northern 'ngland in 1##;, 8hristopher Dyvil 91#62-1;%%:, a landowner and retired clergyman, organi!ed the Hor&shire +ssociation 7ovement. Property owners, or freeholders, of Hor&shire met in a mass meeting to demand rather moderate changes in the corrupt system of parliamentary elections. They organi!ed corresponding societies elsewhere. They intended that the association e5amineCand suggest reforms forCthe entire government. The +ssociation 7ovement was thus a popular attempt to establish an e5tralegal institution to reform the government. The movement collapsed during the early 1#;2s because its supporters, unli&e Dil&es and the +merican rebels, were not willing to appeal for broad popular support. <onetheless, the agitation of the +ssociation 7ovement provided many people with e5perience in political protest. *everal of its younger figures lived to raise the issue of parliamentary reform after 1;11. Parliament was not insensitive to the demands of the +ssociation 7ovement. In +pril 1#;2, the 8ommons passed a resolution that called for lessening the power of the crown. In 1#;%, Parliament adopted a measure for "economical" reform, which abolished some patronage at the disposal of the monarch. These actions, however, did not prevent eorge III from appointing a minister of his own choice. In 1#;0, shifts in Parliament obliged .ord <orth to form a ministry with 8harles ,ames (o5 91#6$-1;24:, a longtime critic of eorge 3I. The monarch was most unhappy with the arrangement. In 1#;0, the &ing approached Dilliam Pitt the Hounger 91#1$-1;24:, son of the victorious war minister, to manage the 3ouse of 8ommons. During the election of 1#;6, Pitt received immense patronage support from the crown and constructed a 3ouse of 8ommons favorable to the monarch. Thereafter, Pitt sought to formulate trade policies that would give his ministry broad popularity. In 1#;1, he attempted one measure of modest parliamentary reform. Dhen it failed, the young prime minister, who had been only twenty-four at the time of his appointment, abandoned the cause of reform. "y the mid-1#;2s, eorge III had achieved a part of what he had sought since 1#41. 3e had reasserted the influence of the monarchy in political affairs. It proved a temporary victory, because his own mental illness, which would eventually re?uire a regency, wea&ened the royal power. The cost of his years of =<C George ))) be*omes Aing =<? Treaty of Paris *on*lu%es the 3e'en 2earsO 4ar =<? John 4ilAes publishes issue number DF of The 8orth &riton =<D 3ugar A*t =<F 3tamp A*t =<< 3tamp A*t repeale% an% 6e*laratory A*t passe% =<= Townshen% A*ts =<" Parliament refuses to seat John 4ilAes after his ele*tion ==C Lor% 1orth be*omes George )llOs *hief minister ==C ,oston +assa*re ==? ,oston Tea Party ==D )ntolerable A*ts ==D First Continental Congress ==F 3e*on% Continental Congress ==< 6e*laration of )n%epen%en*e ==" Fran*e enters the war on the si%e of Ameri*a ==" 2orAshire Asso*iation +o'ement foun%e% =" ,ritish for*es surren%er at 2orAtown ="? Treaty of Paris *on*lu%es 4ar of the Ameri*an 0e'olution dominance had been high, however. =n both sides of the +tlantic, the issue of popular sovereignty had been raised and widely discussed. The +merican colonies had been lost. 'conomically, this loss did not prove disastrous. "ritish trade with +merica after independence actually increased.

,)=+D') )7P+8T =( T3' A7')I8+< 0'>=./TI=<

The +mericansCthrough their state constitutions, the +rticles of 8onfederation, and the federal 8onstitution adopted in 1#;;Chad demonstrated to 'urope the possibility of government without &ings and hereditary nobilities. They had established the e5ample of a nation in which written documents based on popular consent and popular sovereigntyC rather than on divine law, natural law, tradition, or the will of &ingsCwere the highest political and legal authority. The political novelty of these assertions should not be ignored. +s the crisis with "ritain unfolded during the 1#42s and 1##2s, the +merican colonists had come to see themselves first as preserving traditional

04 Europe in Transition 'nglish liberties against the tyrannical crown and corrupt Parliament and then as developing a whole new sense of liberty. "y the mid-1##2s, the colonists had re-ected monarchical government and embraced republican political ideals. They would govern themselves through elected assemblies without any presence of a monarchical authority. =nce a constitution was adopted, they would insist on a "ill of )ights specifically protecting a whole series of civil liberties. The +mericans would re-ect the aristocratic social hierarchy that had e5isted in the colonies. They would embrace democratic idealsCeven if the franchise remained limited. They would assert the e?uality of white male citi!ens not only before the law, but in ordinary social relations. They would re-ect social status based on birth and inheritance and assert the necessity of the liberty for all citi!ens to improve their social standing and economic lot by engaging in free commercial activity. They did not free their slaves, nor did they address issues of the rights of women or of <ative +mericans. Het in ma&ing their revolution, the +merican colonists of the eighteenth century produced a society more free than any the world had seen and one that would eventually e5pand the circle of political and social liberty. In all these respects, the +merican )evolution was a genuinely radical movement, whose influence would widen as +mericans moved across the continent and as other peoples began to ?uestion traditional modes of 'uropean government.

)1 P.03P.CT)-.

4uring the si!teenth and se*enteenth centuries the (est European maritime po(ers esta'lished e!tensi*e commercial mercantile empires in 8orth and South 3merica, The point o# these empires (as to e!tract (ealth and to esta'lish commercial ad*antage #or the colonial po(er, The largest o# these empires (as that o# Spain 'ut 'y the end o# the se*enteenth century &ritain and <rance had also each esta'hshed a ma:or 3merican presence, 3s a *ast plantation economy emerged #rom the Chesapea-e &ay through the southern 8orth 3merican 3tlantic sea'oard and the Cari''ean south to &ra6il signi#icant portions o# these 3merican empires 'ecame economically dependent on sla*e la'or dra(n #rom the #orced immigration o# 3#ricans, Through this large sla*e la'or #orce 3#rican linguistic social and rehgious in#luences 'ecame ma:or cultural #actors in these regions, 4uring the eighteenth century the great European po(ers engaged in (ar#are o*er their 3merican empires and o*er their po(er in India, These colonial (ars 'ecame entangled in dynastic (ars in central and eastern Europe and resulted in (orld(ide midcentury European con#lict, In the 8e( 9orld &ritain <rance and Spain 'attled #or commercial dominance, <rance and &ritain also clashed o*er their spheres o# in#luence in India, &y the third 7uarter o# the century &ritain had succeeded in ousting <rance #rom most o# its ma:or holdings in 8orth 3merica and #rom any signi#icant presence in India, Spain though no longer a military po(er o# the #irst order had managed to maintain its *ast colonial empire in =atin 3merica and a large measure o# its monopoly o*er the region+s trade, On the Continent <rance 3ustria and Prussia collided o*er con#licting territorial and dynastic am'itions, &ritain 'ecame in*ol*ed to protect its continental interests and to use the continental (ars to di*ert <rance #rom the colonial arena, 9ith &ritish aid Prussia had emerged in 176> as a ma:or continental po(er, 3ustria had lost considera'le territory to Prussia, <rance had accumulated a *ast de't, The midcentury con#licts in turn led to ma:or changes in all the European states, Each o# the monarchies needed more money and tried to go*ern itsel# more e##iciently, This pro'lem led &ritain to attempt to ta! the 8orth 3merican colonies (hich led to a re*olution and the colonies+ independence, 3heady deeply in de't the <rench monarchy aided the 3mericans #ell into a deeper #inancial crisis and soon clashed sharply (ith the no'ility as royal ministers tried to #ind ne( re*enues, That clash e*entually unleashed the <rench Re*olution, Spain mo*ed to administer its =atin 3merican empire more e##iciently (hich increased re*olutionary discontent in the early nineteenth century, In preparation #or #uture (ars the rulers o# Prussia 3ustria and Russia pursued a mode o# acti*ist go*ernment -no(n as Enlightened 3'solutism $see Chapter 18%, In that regard the mid. eighteenth.century (ars set in motion most o# the ma:or political de*elopments o# the ne!t hal# century, )'>I'D I/'*TI=<* 1. Dhat were the fundamental ideas associated with mercantile theoryE Did they wor&E Dhich 'uropean country was most successful in establishing a mercantile empireE .east successfulE DhyE %. Dhat were the main points of conflict between "ritain and (rance in <orth +merica, the Dest Indies, and IndiaE 3ow did the triangles of

Chapter 17 I The Transatlantic Economy Trade 9ars and Colonial Re'ellion 0# trade function between the +mericas, 'urope, and +fricaE 0. 3ow was the *panish colonial empire in the +mericas organi!ed and managedE Dhat changes did the "ourbon monarchs institute in the *panish 'mpireE 6. Dhat was the nature of slavery in the +mericasE 3ow was it lin&ed to the economies of the +mericas, 'urope, and +fricaE In what respects was the plantation system unprecedentedE Dhat was the plantation system, and how did it contribute to the inhumane treatment of slavesE 1. The *even HearsB Dar was a ma-or conflict, with battles fought around the globe. Dhat were the results of this warE Dhich countries emerged in a stronger position and whyE 4. Discuss the +merican )evolution in the conte5t of 'uropean history. To what e5tent were the colonists influenced by 'uropean ideas and political developmentsE To what e5tent did their actions in turn influence 'uropeE */ '*T'D )'+DI< * ". ,A)L21( The Ideological Origins o# the 3merican Re*olution 91$4#:. )emains an important wor& illustrating the role of 'nglish radical thought in the perceptions of the +merican colonists. C. +. ,A2L2( Imperial ;eridian2 The &ritish Empire and the 9orld 1780.18>0 91$;$:. + ma-or study of the empire after the loss of +merica. I. ,.0L)1( ;any Thousands "one2 The <irst T(o Centuries o# Sla*ery in 8orth 3merica 91$$;:. The most e5tensive recent treatment emphasi!ing the differences in the slave economy during different decades. L. ,.T8.LL >.6.@( The Cam'ridge 1istory o# =atin 3merica vols. 1 and % 91$;6:. '5cellent essays on the colonial era. ). ,LAC7,&01( The ;a-ing o# 8e( 9orld Sla*ery #rom the &aro7ue to the ;odern 1BA@.1800 91$$#:. +n e5traordinary wor&. D. ,0A6)1G( The <irst 3mericans 91$$1:. + ma-or otudy of colonial .atin +merica. .. C#LL.2( &ritons2 <orging the 8ation 1707.18>7 91$$%:. + ma-or wor& with important discussions of the recovery from the loss of +merica. ) C&0T)1( The 3tlantic Sla*e Trade a Census 91$4$:. )emains a ma-or contribution. D. ". 6A-)3( The Pro'lem o# Sla*ery in the 3ge o# Re*olution 1770.18@> 91$#1:. + ma-or wor& on both 'uropean and +merican history. D. ". 6A-)3( The Pro'lem o# Sla*ery in 9estern Culture 91$44:. + classic far-ranging discussion. ). 6A-)3( The Rise o# the 3tlantic Economies 91$#0:. + ma-or synthesis. D. 6#01( Competition #or Empire 17B0.176> 91$62:. *till one of the best accounts of the midcentury struggle. ). 8A0+3( The 4iligent2 3 Eoyage through the 9orlds o# the Sla*e Trade 9%22%:. + powerful narrative of the voyage of a (rench slave trader. ) LA1GF#06( 3 Polite and Commercial People2 England 1717.178> 91$;$:. +n e5cellent survey covering social history, politics, the overseas wars, and the +merican )evolution. . +AC6#1AG8( <rederic- the "reat 9%221:. <ow the standard biography. ) +A).0( 3merican Scripture2 ;a-ing the 4eclaration o# Independence 91$$#:. )eplaces previous wor&s on the sub-ect. ,. ). +C1.)L( 3tlantic Empires o# <rance and Spain2 =ouis'ourg and 1a*ana 1700.176> 91$;1:. +n e5amination of imperial policies for two &ey overseas outposts. *. D. +)1T9( S(eetness and Po(er2 The Place o# Sugar in ;odern 1istory 91$;1:. Traces the role of sugar in the world economy and how sugar has had an impact on world culture. +. PAG6.1( =ords o# 3ll the 9orld2 Ideologies o# Empire in Spain &ritain and <rance 1BA@. 18>0 91$$1:. =ne of the few comparative studies of empire during this period. . 0&6.( 9il-es and Political =i'erty 91$4%:. + close analysis of popular political behavior. ). .. 3T.)1( The <rench Sugar &usiness in the Eighteenth Century 91$;;:. + study that covers all aspects of the (rench sugar trade. ,. T8#01T#1( 3#rica and the 3#ricans in the ;a-ing o# the 3tlantic 9orld 1B00.1800 %nd ed. 91$$;:. + discussion of the role of +fricans in the emergence of the transatlantic economy. . *. 4##6( The Radicalism o# the 3merican Re*olution 91$$1:. + ma-or interpretation. D=8/7'<T* 8D-)=7 .&0#P. A16 T8. A+.0)CA3 )1 T8. .)G8T..1T8 C.1T&02 1#.1 *laves in the 8ity 1#.% Demands from a *lave )ebellion 1#.0 The *tamp +ctF "/nconstitutional and /n-ust" 1#.6 "Declaration of *entiments"F +merican Domen Dant Independence Too 1#.4 Thomas PaineF from "8ommon *ense" 1#.# ,ohn +damsF Thoughts on "o*ernment

T8. .1L)G8T.1+.1T 1;.4 7edicine from Tur&eyF The *mall Po5 >accination

A0T ; T8. 4.3T A 6ramati* +oment in the Transatlanti* 4orl%: CopleyOs 9atson and the Shar0
0$ John 3ingleton Copley( Ameri*an( =?": " F. 9atson and the Shar- ==". #il on *an'as( =E !C ? / " in*hes. Gift of +rs. George 'on LengerAe +eyer. ECC? +useum of Fine Arts( ,oston.
/D
L

oth the career of the <orth +merican born painter ,ohn *ingleton 8opley 91#0;-1;11: and his monumental painting, 9atson and the Shar- 91##;:, illustrate the economic and cultural interconnections of the eighteenth-century transatlantic world. 8opley was born in 7assachusetts and became an accomplished portrait painter of the "oston elite. Dhen hostilities erupted between "ritain and the colonies, 8opley moved to .ondon in 1##6, where his reputation had preceded him. 3e never returned to +merica. In "ritain, he undertoo& commissions for history painting then considered the most prestigious sub-ect for artists. Traditionally, history painting drew its sub-ect matter from mythology, biblical narratives, or ancient history, but 8opley was interested in portraying contemporary events. 3is figures were modern people, dressed in modern clothing but stri&ing poses ta&en from classical and )enaissance art. 3istory painting claimed to convey a moral message usually of heroism, patriotism, or self-sacrifice. In 1##;, 8opley completed 9atson and the Shar- recounting the e5perience of "roo& DatsonBs rescue, as a boy of fourteen in 1#6$, from the -aws of a shar& in the harbor of 3avana, 8uba. Datson, who later became .ord 7ayor of .ondon, lost most of his leg in the attac&, but regarded his rescue and subse?uent success as a merchant as an inspiring e5ample to others who had encountered adversity. In portraying the terrifying moment -ust before DatsonBs rescue, 8opley presents the event as a profound drama, which he invites the viewer to attend. "y see&ing to evo&e a powerful emotional response from the viewer, 8opley was wor&ing in the category of art &nown at the time as the su'lime, Het 8opley also used his power as a portraitist to depict each man in the painting as a real person, not as some allegorical figure. 9atson and the Shar- is also one of the first paintings to prominently depict an +frican +merican. The blac& man in the middle of the painting holds the rope that will soon be used to rescue Datson. 3is presence also places the action in the world of the plantation economy and transatlantic trade. It is not clear whether he is a slave or whether, li&e =laudah '?uiano in the document earlier in the chapter, a former slave now wor&ing as a sailor in the commercial shipping trade. In several respects, this painting illustrates the interconnectedness of the eighteenth-century transatlantic world. 8opley is an +merican artist wor&ing in .ondon. The action occurs in a *panish colony during a commercial venture. The person being rescued is an 'nglish sub-ect who will become a rich merchant. The boat holds a cross section of races and cultures from +frica, 'urope, and the +mericas that characteri!ed the world of the plantation economies. 9atson and the Shar- is also important in art history for another reason. Through the contrasts of light and dar&, 8opley set out to achieve a dramatic painting of human beings in combat with powerful natural forcesCthe sea, the wind, and the shar&. This would become a ma-or theme of the lateeighteenth- and early-nineteenth-century artistic and literary movement &nown as romanticism. 9atson and the Shar- stands as a ma-or forerunner of this new direction of painting and taste. / 1o( is Copley+s painting di##erent #rom traditional history paintings0 1o( does Datson and the *har& illustrate the interconnectedness o# the eighteenth.century transatlantic economy0 9hy is this painting important in the history o# art0
3our*es: Jules Prown( )ohn Singleton Copley >Cambri%ge( +A: 8ar'ar% &ni'ersity Press( !<<@B John 4ilmer%ing( 3merican 3rt >1ew 2orA: Penguin ,ooAs( !=<@B Theo%ore 3tebbins( Jr.( et al.( 3 8e( 9orld2 ;asterpieces o# 3merican Painting 1760.1A10 >,oston: +useum of Fine Arts( !"?@( pp. E C:E B 8ugh 8onour( The Image o# the &lac- in 9estern 3rt -ol. D( Part )( <rom the 3merican Re*olution to 9orld 9ar I2 Sla*e and =i'erators >Cambri%ge( +A: 8ar'ar% &ni'ersity Press( !"!@.

DC

XC

T8. 4.3T ; T8.

4#0L6 The Columbian .$*hange: 6isease( Animals( an% Agri*ulture

he 'uropean encounter with the +mericas produced remar&able ecological transformations that

have shaped the world to the present moment. The same ships that carried 'uropeans and +fricans to the <ew Dorld also transported animals, plants, and germs that had never before appeared in the +mericas. There was a similar transport bac& to 'urope and +frica. +lfred 8rosby, the leading historian of the process, has named this cross-continental flow "the 8olumbian e5change."

6iseases .nter the Ameri*as

Dith the e5ception of a few ships that had gone astray or, in the case of the >i&ings, that had gone in search of new lands, the +merican continents had been biologically separated from 'urope, +frica, and +sia for tens of thousands of years. In the +mericas no native animals could serve as ma-or beasts of burden e5cept for the llama, which could not transport more than about a hundred pounds. <or did animals constitute a ma-or source of protein for native +mericans, whose diets consisted largely of mai!e, beans, peppers, yams, and potatoes. +t the same time, the +merican continents included areas of vast grassland without gra!ing animals that would have transformed those plants into animal protein. 7oreover, it also appears that native peoples had lived on the long-isolated +merican continents without e5periencing ma-or epidemics. "y the second voyage of 8olumbus 916$0:, that picture began to change in remar&able ways. =n his return voyage to 3ispaniola and other islands of the 8aribbean, 8olumbus brought a number of animals and plants that were previously un&nown to the <ew Dorld. The men on all his voyages and those on subse?uent 'uropean voyages also carried diseases novel to the +mericas. The diseases thus transported by 'uropeans ultimately accounted for the con?uest of the people of the +mericas as much as the advanced 'uropean weaponry. 7uch controversy surrounds the ?uestion of the actual si!e of the populations of <ative +mericans in the 8aribbean islands, 7e5ico, Peru, and the <orth +tlantic coast. +ll accounts present those populations as ?uite significant, with those of 7e5ico in particular numbering many millions. Het in the first two centuries after the encounter, wherever 'uropeans went either as settlers or as con?uerors, e5tremely large numbers of <ative +mericans died from diseases they had never before encountered. The most deadly such disease was smallpo5, which destroyed millions of people. "eyond the devastation wrought by that disease, bubonic plague, typhoid, typhus, influen!a, measles, chic&en po5, whooping cough, malaria, and diphtheria produced deadly results in more locali!ed epidemics. (or e5ample, an un&nown disease, but ?uite possibly typhus, caused ma-or losses among the <ative +mericans of <ew 'ngland between appro5imately 1414 and 141$. <ative +mericans appear to have been highly susceptible to these diseases because, with no earlier e5posure, they lac&ed immunity. Dherever such outbrea&s are recorded, 'uropeans either contracted or died from them at a much lower rate than the <ative +mericans. These diseases would continue to victimi!e <ative +mericans at a higher rate than +mericans of 'uropean descent through the end of the nineteenth century when smallpo5 and measles still &illed large numbers of the Plains Indian peoples of <orth +merica. +lthough many historical and medical ?uestions still surround the sub-ect, it appears almost certain that syphilis, which became a rampant venereal disease in 'urope at the close of the fifteenth century and eventually spread around the globe, originated in the <ew Dorld. It seems to have been an 61

9ithin one year o# Colum'us+s encounter (ith the 3mericas the e*ent had 'een captured in a (oodcut pu'lished in "iuhano 4ati+s 1arrati'e of Columbus $1BA>%, Colum'us+s se*eral *oyages and those o# later Europeans as (ell introduced not only European (ar#are 'ut 'egan a *ast ecological e!change o# plants animals and diseases 'et(een the Old and 8e( 9orlds, The Granger Colle*tion

entirely new disease, spawned through a mutation when the causal agent for yaws migrated from the +mericas to new climatic settings in 'urope. /ntil the discovery of penicillin in the 1$62s, syphilis remained a ma-or concern of public health throughout the world.

Animals an% Agri*ulture

The introduction of 'uropean livestoc& to the +mericas ?uite simply revolutioni!ed the agriculture of two continents. The most important new animals were pigs, cattle, horses, goats, and sheep. =nce transported to the <ew Dorld, these animals multiplied at unprecedented rates. The place where this first occurred was in the islands of the 8aribbean, during the first forty years of *panish settlement and e5ploitation. This situation established the foundation for the later *panish con?uest of both 7e5ico and Peru by providing the *panish with strong breeds of animals, especially horses, acclimated to the +mericas when they set out to con?uer the mainland of *outh +merica. The horse became first the animal of the con?uest and then the animal of colonial .atin +merican culture. <ative +mericans had no e5perience with such large animals who would obey the will of a human rider. The mounted *panish horseman struc& fear into these people, and for good reason. +fter the con?uest, however, the +mericas from 7e5ico southward became the largest horse-breeding region of the world, with ranches raising thousands of animals. 3orses became relatively cheap, and even <ative +mericans could ac?uire them. "y the nineteenth century, the possession of horses would allow the Plains Indians of <orth +merica to resist the advance of their white con?uerors. 6%

8othing so destroyed the h#e o# the 8ati*e 3mericans (hom the Spanish encountered as the introduction o# smallpo!, 9ith no immune de#enses to this ne( disease milhons o# 8ati*e 3mericans died o# smallpo! during the si!teenth and se*enteenth centuries,
The Granger Colle*tion.

The flourishing of pigs, cattle, and sheep allowed a vast economic e5ploitation of the +mericas. These animals produced enormous ?uantities of hides and wool. Their presence in such large numbers also meant the +mericas from the si5teenth century through the present would support a diet more plentiful in animal protein than anywhere else in the world. 'uropeans also brought their own plants to the <ew Dorld, including peaches, oranges, grapes, melons, bananas, rice, onions, radishes, and various green vegetables. *ocially, for three centuries the most significant of these was sugarcane, whose cultivation created the ma-or demand for slavery throughout the transatlantic plantation economy. <utritionally, 'uropean wheat would, over the course of time, allow the +mericas not only to feed themselves, but also to e5port large amounts of grain throughout the world. This +merican production of wheat on the vast plains of the two continents contrasted sharply with the difficulty 'uropeans faced raising grain in the northern and northeastern parts of the 8ontinent, particularly in )ussia. <o significant animals from the +mericas, e5cept the tur&ey, actually came to be raised in 'urope. "ut the +mericas did send to 'urope a series of plants that eventually changed the 'uropean dietF mai!e, the potato, the sweet potato, the pepper, beans, manioc 9tapioca:, the peanut, s?uash, 60

the pump&in, pineapple, cocoa, and the tomato. +ll of these, to a greater or lesser degree, eventually entered the diet of 'uropeans and of 'uropean settlers and their descendants in the +mericas. 7ai!e and the potato, however, had the most transforming impact. 'ach of these two crops became a ma-or staple in 'uropean farming, as well as the 'uropean diet. "oth crops grow rapidly, supplying food ?uic&ly and steadily if not attac&ed by disease. Tobacco, we should note, originated in the +mericas, too. 7ai!e was established as a crop in *pain within thirty years of the countryBs encounter with the <ew Dorld. + century and a half later it was a commonplace in the *panish diet, and its cultivation had spread to Italy and (rance. 7ai!e produced more grain for the seed and farming effort than wheat did. Throughout 'urope, mai!e was associated primarily with fodder for animals. "ut as early as the eighteenth century, travelers noted the presence of polenta in the peasant diet, and other forms of mai!e dishes, such as fried mush, spread. The potato established its 'uropean presence more slowly than mai!e. The *panish encountered the potato only when Pi!arro con?uered Peru, where it was a ma-or part of the <ative +merican food supply. It was adopted slowly by 'uropeans because it needed to be raised in climates more temperate than that of *pain and the 7editerranean. It appears to have become a ma-or peasant food in *cotland, Ireland, and parts of ermany during the eighteenth century. It became more widely cultivated elsewhere in 'urope only after new strains of the plant were imported from 8hile in the late nineteenth century. In the middle of the seventeenth century, Irish peasants were urged to cultivate the potato as a ma-or source of cheap nutrition that could grow in ?uantity on a small plot. The food shortages arising from the wars of .ouis GT> and then during the eighteenth century led farmers in northern 'urope to adopt the potato for similar reasons. It was nutrient insurance against failure of the grain harvest. There is good reason to believe the cultivation of the potato was one of the ma-or causes of the population increase in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century 'urope. It was the ?uintessential food of the poor. 7any tragedies arose from the encounter between the people of the +mericas and those of 'urope, as well as the forging of new nations and civili!ations in the +mericas. "ut one of the last chapters of those tragedies to arise as a direct fallout of the 8olumbian e5change three centuries earlier was the Irish famine of the 1;62s. Irish peasants had become almost wholly dependent on the potato as a source of food. In the middle of the 1;62s, an +merican parasite infected the Irish potato crop. The result of the failure of the crop was the death of hundreds of thousands of Irish peasants and the migration of still more hundreds of thousands to the +mericas and elsewhere in the world. / 4e#ine the Colum'ian e!change, 9hat (as the impact o# European diseases on the 3mericas0 9hy (as the impact so pro#ound0 9hy could so many European crops gro( (ell in the 3mericas0 9hat (as the cultural impact o# animals ta-en #rom Europe to the 3mericas0 1o( did #ood #rom the 3mericas change the diet o# Europe and then later as Europeans immigrated the diet o# the entire (orld0 66

P=.ITI8* +<D tLoS I RS7l S *=8I'TH +<D '8=<=7H ) ' .I I = < + < D 8 / . T / ) '
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i=!?

Louis 5*I e.e!u"edB Se!ond Par"i"ion of Po#and 232>'(3<< Rei)n of Terror 1#31 T$ird Par"i"ion of Po#and 23#A(23!8 Co#onia# riva#r% in "$e Cari==ean 238 D James 6a%>s f#%in) s$u""#e 23A9s A)ri!u#"ura# Revo#u"ion in Bri"ain 23A9( 2:<9 23?8 23?8( 23:; Gro0"$ of ne0 !i"ies Bri"is$ es"a=#is$ dominan!e in India En#i)$"ened a=so#u"is" ru#ers see& "o spur e!onomi! )ro0"$
1#41

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23?;

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life
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*o#"aire

238; 23<: 23<: 23AC 23A2 23?7

23?A 233? 233; 23:2 23:2 23:; 23;9 238: *o#"aire' Elements of the Philosophy of Newton 23;J Wes#e% =e)ins fie#d prea!$in)

Hume. Inquiry into Human Nature on"esFuieu1 Spirit of the Laws Rousseau' Discourse on the Moral Effects of the Arts and Sciences ,irs" vo#ume of +idero">s Encyclopedia Rousseau' Social ontract and Emile *o#"aire' !reatise on !olerance Goe"$e1 Sorrows of "oun# $erther Smi"$1 $ealth of Nations Lessin)' Nathan the $ise
Josep$ II adop"s "o#era"ion in Aus"ria

%ant& ritique of Pure 'eam B#a&e' Son#s of Innocence

Civi# Cons"i"u"ion of "$e C#er)%B Bur&e1 'eflections on the 'e(olution in )rance Wo##s"onesraf"' *indication of the 'i#hts of $oman ,ran!e pro!#aims Cu#" of

P = . I T I 8 * + < D 8=S I ) <7 I < I *=8I'TH +<D '8=<=7H ) ' .I I = < + < D 8 / . T / ) '
I3SA T$e +ire!"or% es"a=#is$ed in ,ran!e 23;= Napo#eon named ,irs" Consu# in ,ran!e >GSOH War resumes =e"0een Bri"ain and ,ran!e 289< Napo#eoni! CodeB Napo#eon !ro0ned emperor 2A ( T$ird Coa#i"ion formed a)ains" ,ran!eB =a""#es of Trafa#)ar and Aus"er#i"C WPf Napo#eon es"a=#is$es "$e Con"inen"a# S%s"em #E, Trea"% of Ti#si" =e"0een ,ran!e and Russia 2?99 Spanis$ resis"an!e "o Napo#eon s"iffens 2I7 Napo#eon invades RussiaB mee"s defea" is D Napo#eon a=di!a"esB Con)ress of *ienna opensB Louis 5*III res"ored in ,ran!e #H>BJJ Napo#eon defea"ed a" Wa"er#oo 2:28 Car#s=ad +e!rees in GermaniesB Pe"er#oo assa!re and "$e Si. A!"s' Bri"ain 2:79 Spanis$ Revo#u"ion Oill Gree& Revo#u"ion =e)ins Bs-8 ,ran!e in"ervenes in Spanis$ Revo#u"ion 2B7A +e!em=ris" Revo#" in Russia 2:7; Ca"$o#i! Eman!ipa"ion A!" in Grea" Bri"ain -SH>J Revo#u"ion in ,ran!e' Be#)ium' and Po#andB Ser=ia )ains independen!e

MNi.

Grea" Reform Bi## in Bri"ain 2iE>KL Revo#u"ions s0eep a!ross Europe 23;<( :7< Wars of independen!e in La"in Ameri!a =rea& "$e !o#onia# s%s"em
Napo#eon Bonapar"e

2BJ9 A=o#i"ion of serfdom in Prussia orWr:itf' Bri"is$ indus"ria# dominan!e 2A7A S"o!&"on and +ar#in)"on Rai#0a% opens 2 > ?A9 ,irs" European po#i!e depar"men"s 2:89(2:A9 Rai#0a% =ui#din) in 0es"ern Europe 2?LH En)#is$ ,a!"or% A!" "o pro"e!" !$i#dren 2:8< German +ollrereln es"a=#is$ed 2:<7 C$ad0i!&' 'eport on the Sanitary ondition of "oe La,ourin# Population M D Corn La0s repea#ed in Bri"ain B:<3 Ten Hour A!" passed in Bri"ain )40 Serfdom a=o#is$ed in Aus"ria and Hun)ar% 23;< ,ran!e pro!#aims Cu"" of 23;:f Wordsvror"$ and B BaIB af"$os' Nssa% onthePrinelpteot - . Population 23;;( 3C8L.).0+AC8,0

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of Political Economy

2:2; B%ron' Don 3oan 2:7; Ca"$o#i! Emaf"!ipi"Efin A!i"m Grea" B"i"am 2:89(2?<7( to,ite/flfe( Philosophy 2:891 L%eH' Principles.of +,i 4eolo#y 2:88 Russia =e)ins LOffi!ia# Na"iona#i"%L po#i!% 2:8A1 S"rauss' "/fe of ieEs0 28<4 *i##erme' atalo#ue of too Phys.ahahiMoral State of $or.ers 2:<8 6ier&e)aard',eanOf#rf 3retn,M# GB<: ar. and En)e#s' ommunist Manifesto

,&)
Philosopher dramatist poet historian and populari6er o # scienti#ic ideas Eoltaire $16AB. 1778% (as the most #amous and in#luential o # the eighteenth.century philosophes, 1is sharp satire and criticism o # religious institutions opened the (ay #or a more general Criti7ue o # the European political and social Status 7uo, 1i*olas %e Largilliere. Portrait of -oltaire at
age E?( bust length( =E". Pri'ate Colle*tion( +usee %e la -ille %e Paris( +usee Carna'alet( Paris( Fran*e. Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

T8. AG. #F .1L)G8T.1+.1T:

Eighteenth.Century Thought
LTP. ORI8"

throughout the literate sectors o# European society that eco.2 PS nomic change and political re#orm (ere 'oth possi'le and desira'le, This attitude is no( commonplace 'ut it came into its o(n only a#ter 1700, It represents one o# the primary intellectual inheritances #rom that age, The mo*ement o# people and ideas that #ostered such thin-ing is called the 'nlightenment. Its leading *oices com'ined con#idence in the human mind and human enterprise inspired 'y the scienti#ic re*olution and #aith in the po(er o# rational criticism to challenge the intellectual authority o# tradition and the Christian past, These (riters stood con*inced that human 'eings could comprehend the operation o# physical nature and mold it to the ends o# material and moral impro*ement economic gro(th and political re#orm, They ad*ocated agricultural impro*ement commercial society e!panding consumption and the application o# inno*ati*e rational methods to traditional social and economic practices, The rationality o# the physical uni*erse 'ecame a standard against (hich the customs and traditions o# society could 'e measured and critici6ed, Such criticism penetrated e*ery corner o# contemporary society politics and religious opinion, 3s a result the spirit o# inno*ation and impro*ement came to characteri6e modern Europe and 9estern society, Some o# the ideas and outloo-s o# the Enlightenment had a direct impact on rulers in central and eastern Europe, These rulers (hose policies 'ecame -no(n 'y the term enlightened absolutism, sought to centrali6e their authority so as to re#orm their countries, They o#ten attempted to restructure religious institutions and to sponsor economic gro(th, 3lthough they #re7uently associated themsel*es (ith the Enlightenment many o# their military and #oreign policies (ere in direct opposition to enlightened ideals, 8onetheless 'oth the Enlightenment (riters and these monarchs (ere #orces #or moderni6ation in European li#e, T$e P$i#osop$es ,orma"ive inf#uen!es on "$e En#i)$"enmen" T$e En!%!#opedia T$e En#i)$"enmen" and Re#i)ion T$e En#i)$"enmen" and So!ie"% Po#i"i!a# T$ou)$" of "$e P$i#osop$es Women in "$e T$ou)$" and Pra!"i!e of "$e En#i)$"enmen" En#i)$"ened A=so#u"ism In Perspe!"ive

T1E EI"1TEE8T1 CE8TORL T1E con*iction 'egan to spread

FC Enlightenment and Revolution

7.2 T#P)C3
^^^^^

S The intelle*tual an% so*ial ba*Agroun% of the .nlightenment S The philosophes of the .nlightenment an% their agen%a of intelle*tual an% politi*al reform S .nlightenment writersO attitu%e towar% )slam S .fforts of Jenlightene%J monar*hs in *entral an% eastern .urope to in*rease the e*onomi* an% military strength of their %omains S The partition of Polan% by Prussia( 0ussia( an% Austria

The Philosophes

The writers an% *riti*s who forge% the new attitu%es fa'orable to *hange( who *hampione% reform( an% who flourishe% in the emerging print *ulture were the philosophes. 1ot usually philosophers in a formal sense( they sought rather to apply the rules of reason an% *ommon sense to nearly all the maPor institutions an% so*ial pra*ti*es of the %ay. The most famous of their number in*lu%e% -oltaire( +ontesGuieu( 6i%erot( 6OAlembert( 0ousseau( 8ume( Gibbon( 3mith( Lessing( an% 7ant. A few of these philosophes o**upie% professorships in uni'ersities. +ost( howe'er( were free agents who might be foun% in Lon%on *offeehouses( .%inburgh %rinAing spots( the salons of fashionable Parisian la%ies( the *ountry houses of reform:min%e% nobles( or the *ourts of the most powerful monar*hs on the Continent. )n eastern .urope( they were often foun% in the royal bureau*ra*ies. They were not an organize% groupB they %isagree% on many issues. Their relationship with ea*h other an% with lesser figures of the same turn of min% has been *ompare% with that of a family( whi*h( %espite Guarrels an% tensions( preser'es a basi* unity. The bulA of the rea%ership of the philosophes was %rawn from the prosperous *ommer*ial an% professional people of the eighteenth:*entury towns an% *ities. These people %is*usse% the reformersO writings an% i%eas in lo*al philosophi*al so*ieties( Freemason lo%ges( an% *lubs. They ha% enough in*ome an% leisure time to buy an% rea% the philosophesO worAs. Although the writers of the .nlightenment %i% not *ons*iously *hampion the goals or *auses of the mi%%le *lass( they %i% pro'i%e an intelle*tual ferment an% a maPor sour*e of i%eas that *oul% be use% to un%ermine e$isting so*ial pra*ti*es an% politi*al stru*tures. They taught their *ontemporaries how to pose pointe%( *riti*al Guestions. +oreo'er( the philosophes generally supporte% the growth( the e$pansion of tra%e( the impro'ement of agri*ulture an% transport( an% the in'ention of new manufa*turing ma*hinery that were transforming the so*iety an% the e*onomy of the eighteenth *entury an% enlarging the business an% *ommer*ial *lasses. The *hief bon% among the philosophes was their *ommon %esire to reform religion( politi*al thought( so*iety( go'ernment( an% the e*onomy for the saAe of human liberty. As Peter Gay on*e suggeste%( this goal in*lu%e% Jfree%om from arbitrary power( free%om of spee*h( free%om of tra%e( free%om to realize
OPeter Gay( The Enlightenment2 3n Interpretation -ol.
ftII

>1ew 2orA: 7nopf(

!<=@( p. D.

This eighteenth.century engra*ing sho(s a dinner party o# philosophes. Eoltaire is in the center (ith his hand raised, 8e!t to Eoltaire on the right is 4iderot, +usee %e la -ille %e Paris( +us<e Carna'alet( Paris(
Fran*e. Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought F

ANUEL 6ANT +E,INES ENLIGHTEN ENT

Immanuel 5ant (as one o# the most important "erman philosophers associated (ith the Enlightenment, 1is (or- is more #ully discussed in Chapter @0, The passage here is #rom one o# his more accessi'le articles (ritten in 178B #or a 'road audience, 1e e7uates Enlightenment (ith the courage o# the indi*idual to use his or her reason, 1e indicates that this is di##icult 'ecause so many people ha*e come 'y ha'it to depend on others #or guidance, 1e discusses the #reedom the use o# reason re7uires, > / 9hat (ere some o# the authorities 5ant sa( the li'erated intellect ha*ing the courage to 7uestion0 9hy does 5ant 'elie*e intellectual =i'eration re7uires e##ort and the re:ection o# la6iness and co(ardice0 9hy does 5ant lin- enhghtenment (ith #reedom0 TPnlightenment is manBs emergence from his d self-imposed nonage. <onage is the inability to use oneBs own understanding without anotherBs guidance. This nonage is self-imposed if its causes lie not in lac& of understanding but in indecision arid lac& of courage to use oneBs own mind without anotherBs guidance. Dare to &nowT CSapere aude% "3ave the courage to use your own understandingOB is therefore the motto of the enlightenment. .a!iness and cowardice are the reasons why such a large part of man&ind gladly remain minors all their lives, long after nature has freed them from e5ternal guidance. They are the reasons why it is so easy for others to set themselves up as guardians. It is so comfortable to be a minor. If I have a boo& that thin&s for me, a pastor who acts as my conscience, a physician who prescribes my diet, and so on C then I have no need to e5ert myself. I have no need to thin&, if only I can payL others will ta&e care of that disagreeable business for me.... Thus it is very difficult for the individual to wor& himself out of the nonage which has become almost second nature to him. 3e has even grown to li&e it and is at first really incapable of using his own understanding, because he has never been permitted to try it. Dogmas and formulas, these mechanical tools designed for reasonable useCor rather abuseCof his natural gifts, are the fetters of an everlasting nonage. The man who casts them off would ma&e an uncertain leap over the narrowest ditch, because he is not used to such movement. That is why there are only a fewfeen who wal& firmly, and who have emerged from nonage by cultivating their own minds. It is more nearly possible, however, for the public to enlighten itselfL indeed, if it is only given freedom, enlightenment is almost inevitable. There will always be a few independent thin&ers, even among the self-appointed guardians of the multitude. =nce such men have thrown 42 the yo&e of nonage, they will spread about them the spirit of a reasonable appreciation of manBs value and of his duty to thin& for himself---This enlightenment re?uires nothing but freedomCand the most innocent of all that may be called "freedom"F freedom to ma&e public use of oneBs reason in all matters. )rrPtmanuel 7ant( J4hat )s .nlightenmentXJ trans( by Peter Gay( in Introduction to Contemporary Ci*ili6ationiK+t'&0est tnd e%.( -ol. E >1ew 2orA: Columbia &ni'ersity Press( !FD@( pp. C= : C=E. oneBs talents, freedom of aesthetic response, freedom, in a word, of moral man to ma&e his way in the world."% Though challenged over the last three centuries, no other single set of ideas has done so much to shape the modern world. 9*ee "Immanuel Rant Defines 'nlightenment.": E Gay( p. ?.

-#LTA)0.TF)03T A+#1G T8. P8)L#3#P8.3

"y far the most influential of the philosophes was (rancois-7arie +rouet, &nown to posterity as >oltaire 914$6-1##;:. During the 1#%2s, >oltaire had offended the (rench authorities by certain of his writings. 3e was arrested and briefly imprisoned. .ater he went to 'ngland, visiting its best literary

1% Enlightenment and Re*olution circles, observing its tolerant intellectual and religious climate, relishing the freedom he felt in its moderate political atmosphere, and admiring its science and economic prosperity. In 1#00, he published =etters on the English which appeared in (rench the ne5t year. The boo& praised the virtues of the 'nglish and indirectly critici!ed the abuses of (rench society. In 1#0;, he published Elements o# the Philosophy o# 8e(ton which populari!ed the thought of Isaac <ewton. "oth wor&s demonstrated that >oltaire had moved beyond the poetry and plays he had written previously. Thereafter, >oltaire lived part of the time in (rance and part near eneva, -ust across the (rench border, where the royal authorities could not bother him. 3is essays, histories, plays, stories, and letters made him the literary dictator of 'urope. 3e turned the bitter venom of his satire and sarcasm against one evil after another in (rench and 'uropean life. 3is most famous satire is Candide 91#1$:, in which he attac&ed war, religious persecution, and what he considered unwarranted optimism about the human condition. .i&e most of the philosophes, >oltaire believed human society could and should be improved. "ut he was never certain that reform, if achieved, would be permanent. The optimism often associated with the 'nlightenment was actually a guarded hopefulness rather than a glib certainty. Pessimism was an undercurrent in most of the wor&s of the period. +s dB+lembert wrote, ""arbarism lasts for centuries,- it seems that it is our natural elementL reason and good taste are only passing."0

Formati'e )nfluen*es on the .nlightenment

The <ewtonian worldview, the stability and commercial prosperity of reat "ritain after 14;;, the need for administrative and economic reform in (rance after the wars of .ouis GT>, and the consolidation of what is &nown as a print culture were the chief factors that fostered the ideas of the 'nlightenment and the call for reform throughout 'urope.

)6.A3 #F 1.4T#1 A16 L#C7.

?

Isaac <ewton 9146%-1#%#: and ,ohn .oc&e 9140%-1#26: were the ma-or intellectual forerunners of the 'nlightenment. <ewtonBs formulation of the law of universal gravitation e5emplified the power of the human mind. "y e5ample and in his writing,
Jean Le 0on% %OAlembert( Preliminary 4iscourse to the Encyclopedia o# 4iderot trans( by 0i*har% 1. 3*hwab >)n%ianapolis: )TT ,obbs:+errill .%u*ational Publishing( !"F@( p. C?.

he encouraged 'uropeans to approach the study of nature directly and to avoid metaphysics and super-naturalism. <ewton had always insisted on empirical support for his general laws and constantly used empirical e5perience to chec& his rational speculations. This emphasis on concrete e5perience became a &ey feature of 'nlightenment thought. 9*ee "+rt N. the DestF ,oseph Dright, an '5periment on a "ird in the +ir-Pump," p. 4%%.: <ewton also seemed to have revealed a pattern of rationality in the physical world. During the eighteenth century, thin&ers began to apply this insight to society. If nature was rational, they reasoned, society, too, should be organi!ed rationally. +s e5plained in 8hapter 16, <ewtonBs success in physics inspired his countryman ,ohn .oc&e to e5plain human psychology in terms of e5perience. In 3n Essay Concerning 1uman Onderstanding 914$2:, .oc&e argued that all humans enter the world a tabula rasa( or blan& page. Personality is the product of the sensations that impinge on an individual from the e5ternal world throughout his or her life. Thus e5perience, and only e5perience, shapes character. The implication of this theory was that human nature is changeable and can be molded by modifying the surrounding physical and social environment. .oc&eBs was a reformerBs psychology. It suggested the possibility of improving the human condition. .oc&eBs psychology also, in effect, re-ected the 8hristian doctrine that human beings are permanently flawed by sin. 3uman beings need not wait for the grace of od or other divine aid to better their lives. They could ta&e charge of their own destiny.

T8. .LA+PL. #F ,0)T)38 T#L.0AT)#1 A16 3TA,)L)T2

<ewtonBs physics and .oc&eBs psychology provided the theoretical basis for a reformist approach to society. The domestic stability of reat "ritain after the )evolution of 14;; furnished a living e5ample of a society in which, to many contemporaries, enlightened reforms appeared to function for the benefit of all. 'ngland permitted religious toleration to all e5cept /nitarians and )oman 8atholics, and even they were not actually persecuted. )elative freedom of the press and free speech prevailed. The authority of the monarchy was limited, and political sovereignty resided in Parliament. The courts protected citi!ens from arbitrary government action. The army was small. (urthermore, the domestic economic life of reat "ritain displayed far less regulation than that of (rance or other continental nations. In the view of reformist observers on the 8ontinent, these liberal policies had produced not

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought F? disorder and instability, but prosperity, stability, and a loyal citi!enry. This view may have been ideali!ed, but 'ngland was nonetheless significantly freer than any other 'uropean nation at the time. 7any of the philosophes contrasted what they regarded as the wise, progressive features of 'nglish life with the absence of religious toleration, the e5tensive literary censorship, the possibility of arbitrary arrest, the overregulation of the economy, and the influence of aristocratic military values in (rench political and social life.

T8. .+.0G.1C. #F A P0)1T 8&LT&0.

The 'nlightenment was the first ma-or intellectual movement of 'uropean history to flourish in a print culture that is, a culture in which boo&s, -ournals, newspapers, and pamphlets had achieved a status of their own. +lthough printed boo&s and pamphlets played a significant role during the )eformation and 8ounter-)eformation, the powerful messages of those movements were spread mostly by preaching. During the eighteenth century, the volume of printed materialCboo&s, -ournals, maga!ines, and daily newspapersCincreased sharply throughout 'urope, most notably in "ritain. Prose came to be valued as highly as poetry, and the novel emerged as a distinct genre. The printed word had become the chief vehicle for the communication of ideas and would remain so until the electronic revolution of our own day. + growing concern with everyday life and material concernsCwith secular as opposed to religious issuesCaccompanied this e5pansion of printed forms. Toward the end of the seventeenth century, half-he,iIo&s published in Paris were religiousE bv tbeN ="Csr only about 2 C per*ent were. "oo&s were not ine5pensive in this era, but they, and the ideas they conveyed, circulated in a variety of ways to reach a broad public. Private and public libraries grew in number, allowing single copies to reach many readers. +uthors might also publish the same material in different formats. The 'nglish essayist, critic, and dictionary author *amuel ,ohnson 91#2$-1#;6:, for e5ample, published as boo&s collections of essays that had first appeared in newspapers or -ournals. (amiliarity with boo&s and secular ideas came increasingly to be e5pected within aristocratic and middle-class society. Popular publications, such as The Spectator begun in 1#11 by ,oseph +ddison 914#%-1#1$: and )ichard *teele 914#%-1#%$:, fostered the value of polite conversation and the reading of boo&s. 8offeehouses became centers for the discussion of writing and ideas 9see "'ncountering the PastF 8offeehouses and 'nlightenment":. The lodges of (reemasons, the meeting places for members of a movement that began in "ritain and spread to the 8ontinent, provided another site for the consideration of secular ideas in secular boo&s. The e5panding mar&et for printed matter allowed writers to earn a living from their wor& for the first time, ma&ing authorship an occupation. Parisian ladies sought out popular writers for their fashionable salons. *ome writers, notably +le5ander Pope 914;;-1#66: and >oltaire, grew wealthy, providing an e5ample for their aspiring young colleagues. In a challenge to older aristocratic values,
Printing shops (ere the producti*e centers #or the 'oo- trade and ne(spaper pu'lishing that spread the ideas o# the Enlightenment, The Granger Colle*tion

)ff

.1C#&1T.0)1G T8. PA3T Coffeehouses an% .nlightenment

he ideas of the 'nlightenment not only-spread through boo&s and -ournals. They too& on a life of

their own in public discussions in what was a new popular institution of 'uropean social lifeCthe coffeehouse. 8offee, originally imported into 'urope from the =ttoman 'mpire, is the chief Tur&ish contribution to the Destern diet. 8offeehouses had long e5isted in the 7uslim world, encouraged by the Islamic prohibition on alcoholic drin&. The first 'uropean coffeehouse appeared in >enice in the 1462s, and the first coffeehouse in >ienna opened its doors in 14;0 with coffee left behind when the Tur&s abandoned their siege of the city. "y the middle of the eighteenth century, thousands of coffeehouses dotted 'uropean cities and towns. 8ustomers were attracted to them in part because the coffeehouses did not serve alcoholic beverages, which made unruly behavior less li&ely than in taverns. 9The practice of tipping began in the coffeehouses of .ondon. The word tips originated as an acronym for "to insure prompt service.": Throughout 'urope, the coffeehouse provided a social space for the open, spontaneous discussion of events, politics, literature, and ideas 9but only for men,- respectable women did not enter coffeehouses:. "y furnishing copies of newspapers and other -ournals, the proprietors of coffeehouses lin&ed their
&usiness science religion and politics (ere discussed in =ondon co##eehouses S u ! $ as this, Permission
of the Trustees of the ,ritish +useum

customers to the growing print culture -ust as today Internet cafes lin& customers to the Dorld Dide Deb. In .ondon coffeehouses, members of the )oyal *ociety and other men associated with the new science mi5ed with merchants and ban&ers. *ome .ondon coffeehouse proprietors invited learned persons to lecture, usually for a fee, on <ewtonian physics, the mechanical philosophy, ethics, and the relationship of science and religion. =ne historian has described these lecturers as "the philosophical brotherhood of the coffeehouses."1 In (rance the philosophes, such as >oltaire, )ousseau, and Diderot, loo&ed to the cafe as a place to meet other writers. "y 1#60 a erman commented, "+ coffeehouse is li&e a political stoc& e5change, where the most gallant and wittiest heads of every estate come together. They engage in wide-ranging and edifying tal&, issue well-founded -udgments on matters concerning the political and the scholarly world, converse sagaciously about the most secret news from all courts and states, and unveil the most hidden truths."% =ne irony, however, should be noted about the eighteenth-century 'uropean coffeehouses. +lthough they provided one of the chief locations for the public discussion of the ideas of the 'nlightenment, which fostered greater liberty of thought in 'urope, the coffee and sugar consumed in these establishments were cultivated by slave labor on plantations in the 8aribbean and "ra!il. The coffeehouse was one of many institutions of 'uropean life that was connected to the transatlantic plantation slave economy. / 1o( did co##eehouses help spread the ideas o# the Enlightenment0 1o( (as the con. sumption o# co##ee related to the transatlantic sla*e trade0
OLarry 3tewart( The Rise o# Pu'lic Science2 Rhetoric Technology and 8atural Philosophy in 8e(tonian &ritain 1660. 17?0 >Cambri%ge: Cambri%ge &ni'ersity Press( !!E@( p. DF. E 5uote% in James -an 8orn +elton( The Rise o# the Pu'lic in Enlightenment Europe >Cambri%ge: Cambri%ge &ni'ersity Press( ECC @( p. ED?.

16

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought 11 status for authors in this new print culture was based on merit and commercial competition, not heredity and patronage. + division, however, soon emerged between high and low literary culture. *uccessful authors of the 'nlightenment addressed themselves to monarchs, nobles, the upper middle classes, and professional groups and were read and accepted in these upper levels of society. =ther authors found social and economic disappointment. They lived marginally, writing professionally for whatever newspaper or -ournal would pay for their pages. 7any of these lesser writers grew resentful, blaming a corrupt society for their lac& of success. (rom their anger, they often espoused radical ideas or carried 'nlightenment ideas to radical e5tremes, transmitting them in this embittered form to their often lower class audience. The new print culture thus circulated the ideas of the 'nlightenment to virtually all literate groups in society. +n e5panding literate public and the growing influence of secular printed materials created a new and increasingly influential social force called pu'lic opinion, This forceCthe collective effect on political and social life of views circulated in print and discussed in the home, the wor&place, and centers of leisureCseems not to have e5isted before the middle of the eighteenth century. "oo&s and newspapers could have thousands of readers, who in effect supported the writers whose wor&s they bought, discussing their ideas and circulating them widely. The writers, in turn, had to answer only to their readers. The result changed the cultural and political climate in 'urope. In 1##1, a new member of the (rench +cademy declared, A tribunal has arisen in%epen%ent of all powers an% that all powers respe*t( that appre*iates all talents( that pronoun*es on all people of merit. An% in an enlightene% *entury( in a *entury in whi*h ea*h *itizen *an speaA to the entire nation by way of print( those who ha'e a talent for instru*ting men an% a gift for mo'ing themTin a wor%( men of lettersTare( ami% the publi* %isperse%( what the orators of 0ome an% Athens were in the mi%%le of the publi* assemble%.D overnments could no longer operate wholly in secret or with disregard to the larger public sphere. They, as well as their critics, had to e5plain and discuss their views and policies openly. 8ontinental 'uropean governments sensed the political power of the new print culture. They regulated the boo& trade, censored boo&s and newsChretien:Guillaume +alesherbes( as Guote% in 0oger Charti:er( The Cultural Origins o# the <rench Re*olution trans( by Ly%ia G. Co*hran >6urham( 1C: 6uAe &ni'ersity Press( !! @( pp. ?C:? .
D

papers, confiscated offending titles, and imprisoned offending authors. The eventual e5pansion of freedom of the press represented also an e5pansion of the print cultureCwith its independent readers, authors, and publishersCand the challenge it posed to traditional intellectual, social, and political authorities.

The Encyclopedia

The midcentury witnessed the publication of the Encyclopedia one of the greatest monuments of the 'nlightenment and its most monumental underta&ing in the realm of print culture. /nder the heroic leadership of Denis Diderot 91#10-1#;6: and ,ean .e )ond dB+lembert 91#1#-1#;0:, the first volume appeared in 1#11. 'ventually, numbering seventeen volumes of te5t and eleven of plates 9illustrations:, the pro-ect was completed in 1##%. The Encyclopedia in part a collective plea for freedom of e5pression, reached fruition only after many attempts to censor it and to halt its publication. It was the product of the collective effort of more than a hundred authors, and its editors had at one time or another solicited articles from all the ma-or (rench philosophes. It included the most advanced critical ideas of the time on religion, government, and philosophy. To avoid official censure, these ideas often had to be hidden in obscure articles or under the cover of irony. The Encyclopedia also included important articles and illustrations on manufacturing, canal building, ship construction, and improved agriculture, ma&ing it an important source of &nowledge about eighteenth-century social and economic life. 9*ee "The Encyclopedia Praises 7echanical +rts and +rtisans.": "etween 16,222 and 14,222 copies of various editions of the Encyclopedia were sold before 1#;$. The pro-ect had been designed to seculari!e learning and to undermine intellectual assumptions that lingered from the 7iddle +ges and the )eformation. The articles on politics, ethics, and society ignored divine law and concentrated on humanity and its immediate well-being. The 'ncyclopedists loo&ed to anti?uity rather than to the 8hristian centuries for their intellectual and ethical models. (or them, the future welfare of human&ind lay not in pleasing od or following divine commandments, but rather in harnessing the power and resources of the earth and in living at peace with oneBs fellow human beings. The good life lay here and now and was to be achieved through the application of reason to human relationships. Dith the publication of the Encyclopedia 'nlightenment

14 Enlightenment and Re*olution

T H E ENCYCLOPEDIA P R A I S E S

ECHANICAL ARTS AN+ ARTISANS

The leading intellectuals and men o# letters o# the day (rote the articles o# the 'ncyclopedia. Let the concrete reality o# contemporaneous economic li#e in to(ns and the countryside #ill its pages, T(o o# the most remar-a'le #eatures o# the 'ncyclopedia are the *ast 7uantity o# in#ormation it included in numerous articles a'out the mechanical arts and in these articles engra*ings that portrayed eighteenth.century <rench artisans in their (or-place, The editors o# the 'ncyclopedia 'elie*ed disseminating such in#ormation (as necessary to aid the spirit o# impro*ement and to promote economic gro(th, In the JPreliminary 4iscourse J (hich ser*ed as a general introduction to the 'ncyclopedia, d+3lem'ert e!plained the importance o# the mechanical arts and the (ay the authors had e!plored these arts and the (or-shops (here they (ere practiced, / 1o( does d3lem'ert de#end the importance o# the mechanical arts0 9hy does he thinthey ha*e not al(ays recei*ed proper attention and appreciation0 1o( did the authors o# the 'ncyclopedia #amiliari6e themsel*es (ith such (or-0 9hat -ind o# con*ersation might ha*e occurred 'et(een one o# those authors and a s-illed artisan operating his machinery0

he mechanical arts, which are dependent upon manual operation and are sub-ugated . . . to a sort

of routine, have been left to those among men whom pre-udices have placed in the lowest class. Poverty has forced these men to turn to such wor& more often than taste and genius have attracted them to it. *ubse?uently it became a reason for holding them in contempt. . . . 3owever, the advantage that the liberal arts have over the mechanical arts . . . is sufficiently counterbalanced by the ?uite superior usefulness which the latter for the most part have for us. It is this very usefulness which reduced them perforce to purely mechanical operations in order to ma&e them accessible to a larger number of men. "ut while -ustly respecting great geniuses for their enlightenment, society ought not to degrade the hands by which it is saved. Too much has been written on the sciencesL not enough has been written well on the mechanical arts.... Thus everything impelled us to go directly to the wor&ers. De approached the most capable of them. . . . De too& the trouble of going into their shops, of ?uestioning them, of writing at their dictation, of developing their thoughts and of drawing therefrom the terms peculiar to their professions, of setting up tables of these terms and of wor&ing out definitions for them, of conversing with those from whom we obtained memoranda, and 9artT almost indispensable precaution: of correcting through long and fre?uent conversations with others what some of them imperfectly, obscurely, and sometimes unreliably had e5plained. There are some artisans who are also men of letters, and we would be able to cite them hereL hut their numbers are very small. 7ost of those who engage in the mechanical arts have embraced them only by necessity and wor& only by instinct.... "ut there are some trades so unusual and some operations so subtle that unless one does the wor& oneself, unless one operates a machine with oneBs own hands, and sees the wor& being created under oneBs own eyes, it is difficult to spea& of it with precision. Thus several times we had to get possession of the machines, to construct them, and to put a hand to the wor&. It was necessary to become apprentices, so to spea&, and to manufacture some poor ob-ect ourselves in order to learn how to teach others the way good specimens are made. From Jean Le 0on% %OAlembert( Preliminary 4iscourse to the Encyclopedia o# 4iderot trans( by 0i*har% 1. 3*hwab >)n%ianapolis: )TT ,obbs:+errill .%u*ational Publishing( !"F@( pp. D : DE( EE: E?.

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought 1# thought became more fully diffused over the 8ontinent, penetrating erman and )ussian intellectual and political circles.

The .nlightenment an% 0eligion

(or many, but not all, philosophes of the eighteenth century, ecclesiastical institutions were the chief impediment to human improvement and happiness. >oltaireBs cry, "8rush the Infamous Thing," summed up the attitude of a number of philosophes toward the church and 8hristianity. +lmost all varieties of 8hristianity, but especially )oman 8atholicism, felt their criticism as also did both ,udaism and Islam. The critical philosophes complained that the churches hindered the pursuit of a rational life and the scientific study of humanity and nature. The clergy taught that humans were basically depraved, becoming worthy only through divine grace. +ccording to the doctrine of original sinC either Protestant or 8atholicCmeaningful improvement in human nature on earth was impossible. )eligion thus turned attention away from this world to the world to come. (or e5ample, the philosophes argued that the 8alvinist doctrine of predestination denied that virtuous behavior in this life could affect the fate of a personBs soul after death. 7ired in conflicts over obscure doctrines, the churches promoted intolerance and bigotry, inciting torture, war, and other forms of human suffering. Dith this attac&, the philosophes were challenging not only a set of ideas, but also some of 'uropeBs most powerful institutions. The churches were deeply enmeshed in the power structure of the =ld )egime. They owned large amounts of land and collected tithes from peasants before any secular authority collected its ta5es. 7ost clergy were legally e5empt from ta5es and made only annual voluntary grants to the government. The upper clergy in most countries were relatives of aristocrats. 8lerics were actively involved in politics, serving in the "ritish 3ouse of .ords and advising princes on the 8ontinent. In Protestant countries, the leading local landowner usually appointed the parish clergyman. In "ritain and the 8ontinent, membership in the state church conferred political and social advantages. Those who did not belong were often e5cluded from political life, the universities, and the professions. 8lergy fre?uently provided intellectual -ustification for the social and political status ?uo, and they were active agents of religious and literary censorship.

6.)3+

The philosophes, although critical of many religious institutions and fre?uently anticlerical, did not oppose all religion. In *cotland, for e5ample, the enlightened historian Dilliam )obertson 91#%1-1#$0: was the head of the *cottish Rir&. In 'ngland, +nglican clergymen did much to populari!e the thought of <ewton. Dhat the philosophes sought, however, was religion without fanaticism and intolerance, a religious life that would largely substitute human reason for the authority of churches. The <ewtonian worldview had convinced many writers that nature was rational. Therefore, the od who had created nature must also be rational, and the religion through which that od was worshiped should be rational. 7ost of them believed the life of religion and of reason could be combined, giving rise to a movement &nown as %eism. The title of one of the earliest deist wor&s, Christianity 8ot ;ysterious 914$4: by ,ohn Toland 914#2-1#%%:, indicates the general tenor of this religious outloo&. Toland and later deist writers promoted religion as a natural and rational, rather than a supernatural and mystical, phenomenon. In this respect they differed from <ewton and .oc&e, both of whom regarded themselves as distinctly 8hristian. <ewton believed od could interfere with the natural order, whereas the deists regarded od as a &ind of divine watchma&er who had created the mechanism of nature, set it in motion, and then departed. 7ost of the deist writers were also strongly anticlerical and were for that reason regarded as radical. There were two ma-or points in the deistsB creed. The first was a belief in the e5istence of od, which they thought could be empirically -ustified by the contemplation of nature. ,oseph +ddisonBs poem on the spacious firmament 91#1%: illustrates this ideaF The spacious firmament on high, Dith all the blue ethereal s&y, +nd spangled heavBn, a shining frame, Their great =riginal proclaimF ThB unwearied *un, from day to day, Does his 8reatorBs power display, +nd publishes to every land The wor& of an +lmighty hand. "ecause nature provided evidence of a rational od, that deity must also favor rational morality. *o the second point in the deistsB creed was a belief in life after death, when rewards and punishments would be meted out according to the virtue of the lives people led on this earth.

1; Enlightenment and Re*olution Deism was empirical, tolerant, reasonable, and capable of encouraging virtuous living. >oltaire wrote, The great name of 6eist( whi*h is not suffi*iently re'ere%( is the only name one ought to taAe. The only gospel one ought to rea% is the great booA of 1ature( written by the han% of Go% an% seale% with his seal. The only religion that ought to be professe% is the religion of worshiping Go% an% being a goo% man.F Deists hoped that wide acceptance of their faith would end rivalry among the various 8hristian sects and with it religious fanaticism, conflict, and persecution. They also felt deism would remove the need for priests and ministers, who, in their view, were often responsible for fomenting religious differences and denominational hatred. Deistic thought led some contemporaries to believe od had revealed himself in different ways and that many religions might embody divine truth.

T#L.0AT)#1

+ccording to the philosophes, religious toleration was a primary social condition for the virtuous life. +gain >oltaire too& the polemical lead in championing this cause. In 1#4%, the )oman 8atholic political authorities in Toulouse ordered the e5ecution of a 3uguenot named ,ean 8alas. 3e stood accused of having murdered his son to prevent him from converting to )oman 8atholicism. 8alas was viciously tortured and publicly strangled without ever confessing his guilt. The confession would not have saved his life, but it would have given the 8atholics good propaganda to use against Protestants. >oltaire learned of the case only after 8alasBs death. 3e made the dead manBs cause his own. In 1#40, he published his Treatise on Tolerance and hounded the authorities for a new investigation. (inally, in 1#41, the -udicial decision against the unfortunate man was reversed. (or >oltaire, the case illustrated the fruits of religious fanaticism and the need for rational reform of -udicial processes. 9*ee ">oltaire +ttac&s )eligious (anaticism.": *omewhat later in the century, the erman playwright and critic otthold .essing 91#%$-1#;1: wrote 8athan the 9ise 91##$:, a plea for toleration not only of different 8hristian sects, but also of religious faiths other than 8hristianity. The premise behind all of these calls for toleration was, in effect, that life on earth and human relationships should not be subordinated to religion. *ecular values and considerations were more important than religious ones.
5uote% in J. 8. 0an%all( The ;a-ing o# the ;odern ;ind re'. e%. >1ew 2orA: 8oughton +ifflin( p. E!E.
F

!DC@(

0A6)CAL .1L)G8T.1+.1T C0)T)C)3+ #F C80)3T)A1)T2

*ome philosophes went beyond the formulation of a rational religious alternative to 8hristianity and the advocacy of toleration to attac& the churches and the clergy with great vehemence. >oltaire repeatedly ?uestioned the truthfulness of priests and the morality of the "ible. In his Philosophical 4ictionary 91#46:, he humorously pointed out inconsistencies in biblical narratives and immoral acts of the biblical heroes. The *cottish philosopher David 3ume 91#11-1##4:, in "=f 7iracles," a chapter in his In7uiry into 1uman 8ature 91#6;:, argued that no empirical evidence supported the belief in divine miracles central to much of 8hristianity. (or 3ume, the greatest miracle was that people believed in miracles. In The 4ecline and <all o# the Roman Empire 91##4:, 'dward ibbon 91#0#1#$6:, the 'nglish historian, e5plained the rise of 8hristianity in terms of natural causes rather than the influence of miracles and piety.

A few philosophes went further. "aron dB3olbach 91#%0-1#;$: and ,ulien =ffray de .a 7ettrie 91#2$1#11: embraced positions very near to atheism and materialism. Theirs was distinctly a minority position, however. 7ost of the philosophes sought not the abolition of religion, but its transformation into a humane force that would encourage virtuous living. In the words of the title of a wor& by the erman philosopher Immanuel Rant, they sought to pursue Religion (ithin the =imits o# Reason 3lone 91#$0:.

J.4)38 T8)17.03 )1 T8. AG. #F .1L)G8T.1+.1T

Despite their emphasis on toleration, the philosophesB criticisms of traditional religion often reflected an implicit contempt not only for 8hristianity but also, and sometimes more vehemently, for ,udaism and, as we see later, for Islam as well. Their attac& on the veracity of biblical miracles and biblical history undermined the authority of the 3ebrew scriptures as well as the 8hristian. They often aimed their satirical barbs at personalities from the 3ebrew scriptures. *ome philosophes characteri!ed ,udaism as a more primitive faith than 8hristianity and one from which philosophical rationalism provided a path of escape. The 'nlightenment view of religion thus served in some ways to further stigmati!e ,ews and ,udaism in the eyes of non-,ewish 'uropeans. 'nlightenment values also, however, allowed certain ,ewish intellectuals to rethin& the relationship of their communities to wider 'uropean culture from which they had largely lived apart.

Chapter 18

I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought 1$

*OLTAIRE ATTAC6S RELIGIOUS ,ANATICIS

The chie# complaint o# the philosophes against Christianity (as that it 'red a #anaticism that led people to commit crimes in the name o# religion, In this passage #rom Eoltaire+s Philosophical Dictionary $176B% he directly reminds his readers o# the intolerance o# the Re#ormation era and indirectly re#ers to e!amples o# contemporary religious e!cesses, 1e argues that the philosophical spirit can o*ercome #anaticism and #oster toleration and more humane religious 'eha*ior, Shoc-ing many o# his contemporaries he praises the *irtues o# Con#ucianism o*er those o# Christianity, / 9hat concrete e!amples o# religious #anaticism might Eoltaire ha*e had in mind0 9hy does Eoltaire contend that neither religion nor la(s can contain religious #anaticism0 9hy does Eoltaire admire the Chinese0 maniac. These fellows are certain tltat the holy spirit with which they are filled is above the law, that their enthusiasm is the only law they must obey. Dhat can we say to a man who tells you that he would rather obey od than men, and that therefore he is sure to go to heaven for butchering youE =rdinarily fanatics are guided by rascals, who put the dagger into their handsL these latter resemble that =ld 7an of the 7ountain who is supposed to have made imbeciles taste the -oys of paradise and who promised them an eternity of the pleasures of which he had given them a foretaste, on condition that they assassinated all those he would name to them. There is only one religion in the world that has never been sullied by fanaticism, that of the 8hinese men oi letters. The schools of philosophy were not only free from this pest, they were its remedyL for the effect of philosophy is to ma&e the soul tran?uil, and fanaticism is incompatible with tran?uility. If our holy religion has so often been corrupted by this infernal delirium, it is the madness of men which is at fault. From -oltaire( Philosophical 4ictionary trans( by P. Gay >1ew 2orA: ,asi* ,ooAs( !<E@( pp. E<=:E<!. "P-anaticism is to superstition what delirium is to JL fever and rage to anger. The man visited by ecstasies and visions, who ta&es dreams for realities and his fancies for prophecies, is an enthusiastL the man who supports his madness with murder is a fanatic,... The most detestable e5ample of fanaticism was that of the burghers of Paris who on *t. "artholomewBs <ight @11#%A went about assassinating and butchering all their fellow citi!ens who did not go to mass, throwing them out of windows, cutting them in pieces. =nce fanaticism has corrupted a mind, the malady is almost incurable.. . . The only remedy for this epidemic malady is the philosophical spirit which, spread gradually, at last tames menBs habits and prevents the disease from startingL for once the disease has made any progress, one must flee and wait for the air to clear itself. .aws and religion are not strong enough against the spiritual pestL religion, far from being healthy food for infected brains, turns to poison in them.... 'ven the law is impotent against these attac&s of rage,U it is li&e reading a court decree to a raving Two ma-or ,ewish writersCone a few decades before the opening of the 'nlightenment and one toward the closeCentered the larger debate over religion and the place of ,ews in 'uropean life. These were "aruch *pino!a 9140%-14##:, who lived in the <etherlands, and 7oses 7endelsohn 91#%$-1#;4:, who lived in ermany. *pino!a set the e5ample for a seculari!ed version of ,udaism, and 7endelsohn established the main outlines of an assimilationist position. +lthough their approaches to the problem displayed certain similarities, there were also important differences. *pino!a, the son of a ,ewish merchant of +msterdam, was deeply influenced by the new science of the mid-seventeenth century. .i&e his contemporaries, 3obbes and Descartes, he loo&ed to the power of human reason to reconceptuali!e traditional thought. In that regard his thin&ing reflected the age of scientific revolution and loo&ed toward the later 'nlightenment.

42 Enlightenment and Re*olution

The 4utch )e(ish philosopher &aruch Spino6a (as deeply in#luenced 'y the ne( science o# the mid. se*enteenth century, In his (ritings Spino6a argued #or rationality o*er traditional spiritual 'elie#s,
Library of Congress

In his Ethics the most famous of his wor&s, *pino!a so closely identified od and nature, or the spiritual and material worlds, that contemporaries condemned him. 7any thought he drew od and nature too intimately into a single divine substance, leaving little room for the possibility of a distinctly divine revelation to human&ind in scripture. "oth 8hristians and ,ews also believed *pino!aBs near pantheistic position meant human beings might not be personally responsible for their actions and that there could be no personal, individual immortality of the human soul after death. During his lifetime the controversial character of his writings led both ,ews and Protestants to critici!e him as an atheist. +t the age of twenty-four, he was e5communicated by his own synagogue and thereafter lived apart from the +msterdam ,ewish community. In his Theologico.Political Treatise 914#2:, *pino!a directly anticipated much of the religious criticism of the 'nlightenment and its attac&s on the power of superstition in human life. *pino!a described the origins of religion in thoroughly naturalistic terms. 3e believed the 3ebrew "ible provided ,ews with divine legislation but not with specially revealed theological &nowledge. In this respect, he was calling on both ,ews and 8hristians to use their own reason in rehgious matters and to read the "ible li&e other ancient boo&s. *pino!aBs e5tensive rational and historical criticism of the biblical narratives disturbed 8hristian and ,ewish contemporaries who saw him as a writer see&ing to lead people away from all religion. 3e actually argued, however, that the formally organi!ed religious institutions of both 8hristianity and ,udaism led people away from the original teaching of scripture and encouraged them to persecute those who disagreed with the leaders of their respective churches and synagogues. "ecause of *pino!aBs e5communication from his synagogue, the later philosophes viewed him as a martyr for rationality against superstition. 3e also symboli!ed a ,ew who, through the use of his critical reason, had separated himself from traditional ,ewish religion and practices and attempted to enter the mainstream society. In that regard, he left ,udaism to pursue a secular e5istence with little or no regard for his original faith. 8onse?uently, his life and his writings, as one commentator has stated, "made it possible for defenders of the 'nlightenment to advocate toleration of ,ews while simultaneously holding ,udaism in contempt." 4 This stance of championing toleration while condemning ,udaism itself would later characteri!e the outloo& of many non-,ewish 'uropeans to the assimilation of ,ews into 'uropean civic life. It was, however, an outloo& that could not without much modification be welcomed by ,ewish communities themselves. 7oses 7endelsohn, the leading ,ewish philosopher of the eighteenth century and a person &nown as the ",ewish *ocrates," writing almost a century later also advocated the entry of ,ews into modern 'uropean life. In contrast to *pino!a, however, 7endelsohn argued for the possibility of loyalty to ,udaism combined with adherence to rational, 'nlightenment values. 7endelsohn could hold this position in part because of the influence of .essingBs arguments for toleration. Indeed, 7endelsohn had been the person on whose life .essing had modeled the chief character of 8athan the 9ise, 7endelsohnBs most influential wor& was )erusalemQ or On Ecclesiastical Po(er and )udaism 91#;0: in which he argued both for advancing e5tensive religious toleration and for maintaining the religious distinction of ,ewish communities. 7endelsohn urged that religious diversity within a nation did not harm loyalty to the governmentL therefore, governments should be religiously neutral and ,ews should en-oy the same civil rights as other sub-ects. Then in the spirit of the deists, he
3te'en ,. 3mith( Spino6a =i'eralism and the Fuestion o# #e(ish Identity >1ew 8a'en( CT: 2ale &ni'ersity Press( !!=@( p. <<.
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Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought < presented ,udaism as one of many religious paths revealed by od. ,ewish law and practice were intended for the moral benefit of ,ewish communities,-other religions similarly served other people. 8onse?uently, various communities should be permitted to practice their rehgious faith alongside other religious groups. /nli&e *pino!a, 7endelsohn wished to advocate religious toleration while genuinely sustaining the traditional religious practices and faith of ,udaism. <evertheless, 7endelsohn believed ,ewish communities should not have the right to e5communicate their members over differences in theological opinions, but should tolerate within themselves a wide spectrum of outloo&s. In this respect, 7endelsohn set forth a far more e5tensive vision of religious toleration than ,ohn .oc&e almost a century earlier, who had contended that numerous religious communities should be tolerated but that each should retain the right of e5communication 9see 8hapter 16:. 7endelsohn advocated broad toleration within the ,ewish communities so their members, if they wished, could embrace modern secular ideas without danger of e5communication. 3e thus sought both toleration of ,ews within the broader non-,ewish 'uropean society and toleration by ,ews of a wider spectrum of opinion within their own communities and congregations. 3is hope was that the rationalism of the 'nlightenment would provide the foundation for both modes of toleration.

)3LA+ )1 .1L)G8T.1+.1T T8#&G8T

/nli&e ,udaism, Islam, e5cept in the "al&an Peninsula, had few adherents in eighteenth-century 'urope. +lthough 'uropean merchants traded with the =ttoman 'mpire or with those parts of *outh +sia where Islam prevailed, most 'uropeans came to &now what little they did &now about the Islamic world and Islam as a religion through boo&sCthe religious commentaries of 8hristian missionaries, histories, and the reports of travelersCthat with rare e5ceptions were hostile to Islam and deeply misleading. Islam continued to be seen as a rival to 8hristianity. 'uropean writers, such as Pascal in his Pensees 9see 8hapter 16:, repeated what other 8hristian critics had said for centuries. They portrayed Islam as a false religion and 7uhammed as an impostor and a false prophet because he had not performed miracles. (urthermore, they also attac&ed Islam as an e5ceptionally carnal or se5ually promiscuous religion because of its teaching that heaven was a place of sensuous delights, its permission for a man to have more than one wife, 7uhammedBs own polygamy, and the presence of harems in the Islamic world. 8hristian authors also ignored the Islamic understanding of the life and mission of 7uhammed. They referred to Islam as 7uhammedanism, thus implying that 7uhammed was divine rather than a human being with whom od had chosen to communicate. (or 7uslims, the suggestion that 7uhammed was divine is blasphemous. *everal 'uropean universities did endow professorships for the study of +rabic during the seventeenth century. "ut these university scholars generally agreed with theological critics that Islam too often embodied religious fanaticism. 'ven relatively well-informed wor&s based on considerable &nowledge of +rabic and Islamic sources, such as "arthelemy dB3erbelotBs &i'liothe7ue orientale COriental =i'rary% a reference boo& published in 14$#, *imon =c&leyBs 1istory o# the Saracens 91#1;:, and eorge *aleBs introduction to the first full 'nglish translation of the IurBan 91#06: were largely hostile to their sub-ect. +ll of these boo&s continued to be reprinted and remained influential well into the nineteenth century, demonstrating how little disinterested information was available to 'uropeans about Islam. 'nlightenment philosophes spo&e with two voices regarding Islam. >oltaire indicated his opinion along with that of many of his contemporaries in the title of his 1#6% tragedy, <anaticism or ;ohammed the Prophet, +lthough he sometimes spo&e well of the IurBan, >oltaire declared in a later historical wor&, "De must suppose that 7uhammed, li&e all enthusiasts, violently impressed by his own ideas, retailed them in good faith, fortified them with fancies, deceived himself in deceiving others, and finally sustained with deceit a doctrine he believed to be good." # Thus for >oltaire, 7uhammed and Islam in general represented simply one more e5ample of the religious fanaticism he had so often critici!ed among 8hristians. *ome 'nlightenment writers, however, spo&e well of the Islamic faith. The deist ,ohn Toland, who opposed pre-udice against both ,ews and 7uslims, contended that Islam derived from early 8hristian writings and was thus a form of 8hristianity. These views so offended most of his contemporaries that Toland became &nown as a "7ohametan" 8hristian. 'dward ibbon 91#0#-1#$6:, who blamed 8hristianity for contributing to the fall of the )oman 'mpire, wrote with respect of 7uhammedBs leadership and IslamBs success in con?uering so vast a territory in the first century of its e5istence. =ther commentators approved of IslamBs tolerance and the charitable wor& of 7uslims.
=

5uote% in Theo%ore ,esterman( Eoltaire >1ew 2orA: 8ar*ourt( ,ra*e( ; 4orl%(

!<!@( p. DC!.

4% Enlightenment and Re*olution

<e( Europeans *isited the Ottoman Empire, 9hat Otile they -ne( a'out it came #rom reports o# tra*elers and #rom illustrations such as this *ie( o# Constantinople the empire+s capital, R 8istori*al
Pi*ture Ar*hi'e/ C#0,)3

*ome philosophes critici!ed Islam on cultural and political grounds. In The Persian =etters 91#%1:, supposedly written by two 7uslim Persians visiting 'urope, the young 7ontes?uieu used Islamic culture as a foil to critici!e his own 'uropean society. "ut by the time he wrote his more influential Spirit o# the =a(s 91#6;:, discussed more fully later in this chapter, 7ontes?uieu associated Islamic society with the passivity that he ascribed to people sub-ect to political despotism. .i&e other 'uropeans, 7ontes?uieu believed the e5cessive influence of Islamic religious leaders prevented the =ttoman 'mpire from adapting itself to new advances in technology. =ne of the most positive commentators on eighteenth-century Islam was a woman. "etween 1#14 and 1#1;, .ady 7ary Dortley 7ontagu 914;$-1#4%: lived in 8onstantinople with her husband, the "ritish ambassador to Tur&ey. *he wrote a series of letters about her e5periences there that were published the year after her death. In these Tur-ish Em'assy =etters she praised much about =ttoman society and urged the 'nglish to copy the Tur&ish practice of vaccination against smallpo5. /nli&e 'uropean males, 7ontagu had access to the private ?uarters of women in Istanbul. In contrast to the constraints under which 'nglish women found themselves, she thought upper-class Tur&ish women were remar&ably free and well treated by their husbands despite having to wear clothing that completely covered them in public. In fact, 7ontagu thought the anonymity these coverings bestowed allowed Tur&ish women to move freely about Istanbul. *he also considered the magnificent =ttoman architecture better than anything in western 'urope. 7ontagu repeatedly critici!ed the misinformation that prevailed in 'urope about the =ttoman 'mpire and declared that many of the hostile comments about Islam and Islamic morality were simply wrong. Het the 'uropean voices demanding fairness and e5pressing empathy for Islam were rare throughout the eighteenth century. +s one historian has commented, "The basic 8hristian attitude was still what it had been for a millenniumF a re-ection of the claim of 7uslims that 7uhammad was a prophet and the IurBan the word of od, mingled with a memory of periods of fear and conflict, and also, a few thin&ers and scholars apart, with legends, usually hostile and often contemptuous."; <or were 7uslims very curious about the 8hristian Dest. =nly a handful of people from the =ttoman 'mpire visited western 'urope in the eighteenth century, and no Islamic writers showed much interest in contemporary 'uropean authors. The /lama, the Islamic religious establishment, reinforced these attitudes. They taught that odBs revelations to 7uhammad meant Islam had " A. 8ourani( Islam in European Thought >Cambri%ge: Cambri%ge &ni'ersity Press( !! @( p. ?<.

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought 40 superceded 8hristianity as a religion and therefore there was little to be learned from the 8hristian culture of 'urope.

The .nlightenment an% 3o*iety

+lthough the philosophes wrote much on religion, humanity was the center of their interest. +s one writer in the Encyclopedia observed, "7an is the uni?ue point to which we must refer everything, if we wish to interest and please amongst considerations the most arid and details the most dry."$ The philosophes believed the application of human reason to society would reveal laws in human relationships similar to those found in physical nature. +t the same time, the use of the word man in this passage was not simply an accident of language. 7ost philosophes were thin&ing primarily of men, not women, when they framed their reformist ideas. Dith a few e5ceptions, as we see later in the chapter, they had little interest in e5panding womenBs intellectual and social opportunities. +lthough the term did not appear until later, the idea of social science originated with the 'nlightenment. Philosophes hoped to end human cruelty by discovering social laws and ma&ing people aware of them. These concerns are most evident in the philosophesB wor& on law and prisons.

,.CCA0)A A16 0.F#0+ #F C0)+)1AL LA4

In 1#46, 8esare "eccaria 91#0;-1#$6:, an Italian philosophe, published On Crimes and Punish. ments in which he applied critical analysis to the problem of ma&ing punishments both effective and -ust. 3e wanted the laws of monarchs and legislaturesCthat is, positive lawCto conform with the rational laws of nature. 3e rigorously and elo?uently attac&ed both torture and capital punishment. 3e thought the criminal -ustice system should ensure a speedy trial and certain punishment and the intent of punishment should be to deter further crime. The purpose of laws was not to impose the will of od or some other ideal of perfectionL their purpose was to secure the greatest good or happiness for the greatest number of human beings. This utilitarian philosophy based on happiness in this life permeated most 'nlightenment writing on practical reforms. ! 5uote% in F. L. ,aumer( ;ain Cunents o# 9estern Thought Dth e%. >1ew 8a'en( CT: 2ale &ni'ersity Press( !="@( p. ?=D.

T8. P823)#C0AT3 A16 .C#1#+)C F0..6#+

'conomic policy was another area in which the philosophes saw e5isting legislation and administration preventing the operation of natural social laws. They believed mercantilist legislation 9designed to protect a countryBs trade from e5ternal competition: and the regulation of labor by governments and guilds actually hampered the e5pansion of trade, manufacture, and agriculture. In (rance, these economic reformers were called the physiocrats. Their leading spo&espeople were (rancois Iuesnay 914$6-1##6: and Pierre Dupont de <emours 91#0$-1;1#:. The physiocrats believed the primary role of government was to protect property and to permit its owners to use it freely. They particularly felt all economic production depended on sound agriculture. They favored the consolidation of small peasant holdings into larger, more efficient farms. 3ere, as elsewhere, there was a close relationship between the rationalism of the 'nlightenment and the spirit of improvement at wor& in eighteenth-century 'uropean economic life.

A6A+ 3+)T8 #1 .C#1#+)C G0#4T8 A16 3#C)AL P0#G0.33

The most important economic wor& of the 'nlightenment was +dam *mithBs 91#%0-1#$2: In7uiry into the 8ature and Causes o# the 9ealth o# 8ations 91##4:. *mith, who was for a time a professor at lasgow, believed economic liberty was the foundation of a natural economic system. +s a result, he urged that the mercantile system of 'nglandCincluding the navigation acts, the bounties, most tariffs, special trading monopolies, and the domestic regulation of labor and manufactureCbe abolished. These regulations were intended to preserve the wealth of the nation, to capture wealth from other nations, and to ma5imi!e the wor& available for the nationBs laborers. *mith argued, however, that they hindered the e5pansion of wealth and production. The best way to encourage economic growth, he maintained, was to unleash individuals to pursue their own selfish economic interests. +s selfinterested individuals sought to enrich themselves by meeting the needs of others in the mar&etplace, the economy would e5pand. 8onsumers would find their wants met as manufacturers and merchants competed for their business. It was a basic assumption of mercantilism that the earthBs resources are limited and scarce, so one nation can ac?uire wealth only at the e5pense of

46 Enlightenment and Re*olution others. *mithBs boo& challenged this assumption. 3e saw the resources of natureCwater, air, soil, and mineralsCas boundless. To him, they demanded e5ploitation for the enrichment and comfort of human&ind. In effect, *mith was saying the nations and peoples of 'urope need not be poor. *mith is usually regarded as the founder of Olaisse!-faire economic thought and policy, which favors a limited role for the government in economic life. The 9ealth o# 8ations was, however, a comple5 boo&. *mith was no simple dogmatist. (or e5ample, he did not oppose all government activity touching the economy. The state, he argued, should provide schools, armies, navies, and roads. It should also underta&e certain commercial ventures, such as the opening of dangerous new trade routes that were economically desirable, but too e5pensive or ris&y for private enterprise. Dithin The 9ealth o# 8ations *mith, li&e other *cottish thin&ers of the day, embraced an important theory of human social and economic development, &nown as the #our.stage theory, +ccording to this theory, human societies can be classified as hunting and gathering, pastoral or herding, agricultural, and commercial. The hunters and gatherers have little or no settled life. Pastoral societies are groups of nomads who tend their herds and develop some private property. +gricultural or farming societies are settled and have clear-cut property arrangements. (inally, in the commercial state there e5ist advanced cities, the manufacture of numerous items for wide consumption, e5tensive trade between cities and the countryside, as well as elaborate forms of property and financial arrangements. *mith and other *cottish writers described the passage of human society through these stages as a movement from barbarism to civili!ation. The four-stage theory implicitly evaluated the later stages of economic development and the people dwelling in them as higher, more progressive, and more civili!ed than the earlier ones. + social theorist using this theory could thus very ?uic&ly loo& at a society and, on the basis of the state of its economic development and organi!ations, ran& it in terms of the stage it had achieved. In point of fact, the commercial stage, the highest ran& in the theory, described society as it appeared in northwestern 'urope. Thus *mithBs theory allowed 'uropeans to loo& about the world and always find themselves dwelling at the highest level of human achievement. This outloo& served as one of the ma-or -ustifications in the minds of 'uropeans for their economic and imperial domination of the world during the ne5t century. They repeatedly portrayed themselves as bringing a higher level of civili!ation to people elsewhere who, according to the four-stage theory, lived in lower stages of human social and economic development. 'uropeans thus imbued with the spirit of the 'nlightenment presented themselves as carrying out a civili!ing mission to the rest of the world.

Politi*al Thought of the Philosophes

<owhere was the philosophesB reformist agenda, as well as tensions among themselves, so apparent as in their political thought. 7ost philosophes were discontented with certain political features of their countries, but they were especially discontented in (rance. There the corruptness of the royal court, the blundering of the administrative bureaucracy, the less-than-glorious midcentury wars, and the power of the church compounded all problems. 8onse?uently, the most important political thought of the 'nlightenment occurred in (rance. The (rench philosophes, however, stood ?uite divided on the proper solution to their countryBs problems. Their attitudes spanned a wide political spectrum, from aristocratic reform to democracy to absolute monarchy. 7=<T'*I/I'/ +<D *PI)IT =( T3' .+D* 8harles .ouis de *econdat, baron de 7ontes?uieu 914;$-1#11:, was a lawyer, a noble of the robe, and a member of a provincial parlement, 3e also belonged to the "ordeau5 +cademy of *cience, before which he presented papers on scientific topics. +lthough living comfortably within the bosom of (rench society, he saw the need for reform. In 1#%1, as already noted, he published The Persian =etters to satiri!e contemporary institutions. "ehind the humor lay the cutting edge of criticism and an e5position of the cruelty and irrationality of much contemporaneous 'uropean life. +bout a decade after this volume appeared, 7ontes?uieu, li&e >oltaire, visited 'ngland and deeply admired 'nglish institutions. In his most enduring wor&, Spirit o# the =a(s 91#6;:, 7ontes?uieu held up the e5ample of the "ritish constitution as the wisest model for regulating the power of government. Dith his interest in science, his hope for reform, and his admiration for "ritain, he embodied all the ma-or elements of the 'nlightenment mind. 7ontes?uieuBs Spirit o# the =a(s perhaps the single most influential boo& of the century, e5hibits the internal tensions of the 'nlightenment. In it, 7ontes?uieu pursued an empirical method,

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought 41 ta&ing illustrative e5amples from the political e5perience of both ancient and modern nations. (rom these, he concluded there could be no single set of political laws that applied to all peoples at all times and in all places. The good political life depended rather on the relationship among many political variables. Dhether the best form of government for a country was a monarchy or a republic, for e5ample, depended on that countryBs si!e, population, social and religious customs, economic structure, traditions, and climate. =nly a careful e5amination and evaluation of these elements could reveal what mode of government would prove most beneficial to a particular people. *o far as (rance was concerned, 7ontes?uieu had some definite ideas. 3e believed in a monarchical government tempered and limited by various sets of intermediary institutions, including the aristocracy, the towns, and the other corporate bodies that en-oyed liberties the monarch had to respect. These corporate bodies might be said to represent various segments of the general population and thus of public opinion. In (rance, he regarded the aristocratic courts, or parlements as the ma-or e5ample of an intermediary association. Their role was to limit the power of the monarchy and thus to preserve the liberty of its sub-ects. In championing these aristocratic bodies and the general role of the aristocracy, 7ontes?uieu was a political conservative. 3e adopted this conservatism in the hope of achieving reform, however, for he believed the oppressive and inefficient absolutism of the monarchy accounted for the degradation of (rench life. =ne of 7ontes?uieuBs most influential ideas was that of the division of power in government. (or his model of a government with authority wisely separated among different branches, he too& contemporary reat "ritain. There, he believed, e5ecutive power resided in the &ing, legislative power in the Parliament, and -udicial power in the courts. 3e thought any two branches could chec& and balance the power of the other. 3is perception of the eighteenth-century "ritish constitution was incorrect because he failed to see how patronage and electoral corruption allowed a handful of powerful aristocrats to dominate the government. 7oreover, he was also unaware of the emerging cabinet system, which was slowly ma&ing the e5ecutive power a creature of the Parliament. <evertheless, 7ontes?uieuBs analysis illustrated his strong sense that monarchs should be sub-ect to constitutional limits on their power and a separate legislature, not the monarch, should formulate laws. (or this reason, although he set out to defend the political privileges of the (rench aristocracy, 7ontes?uieuBs ideas had a profound and still-lasting effect on the constitutional form of liberal democracies for more than two centuries.

0#&33.A&: A 0A6)CAL C0)T)5&. #F +#6.01 3#C).T2

,ean-,ac?ues )ousseau 91#1%-1##;: held a view of the e5ercise and reform of political power that was ?uite different from 7ontes?uieuBs. )ousseau was a strange, isolated genius who never felt particularly comfortable with the other philosophes. 3is own life was troubled. 3e could form few close friendships. 3e sired numerous children, whom he abandoned to foundling hospitals. Het perhaps more than any other writer of the mid-eighteenth century, he transcended the political thought and values of his own time. )ousseau had a deep antipathy toward the world and the society in which he lived. It seemed to him impossible for human beings living according to the commercial values of his time to achieve moral, virtuous, or sincere lives. In 1#12, in his 4iscourse on the ;oral E##ects o# the 3rts and
)ean.)ac7ues Rousseau $171@.1778% raised some o# the most pro#ound social and ethical 7uestions o# the Enlightenment, This portrait is 'y ;aurice Fuentin, +auri*e 5uentin %e la Tour( Jean:Ja*Gues 0ousseau(
*a. =DC. #riginal: Genf( +usee %OArt et %O8istoire. ,il%ar*hi' Preussis*her 7ulturbesitz

44 Enlightenment and Re*olution Sciences he contended that the process of civili!ation and 'nlightenment had corrupted human nature. In 1#11, in his 4iscourse on the Origin o# Ine7uality )ousseau blamed much of the evil in the world on the uneven distribution of property. In both wor&s, )ousseau brilliantly and directly challenged the social fabric of the day. 3e drew into ?uestion the concepts of material and intellectual progress and the morality of a society in which commerce and industry were regarded as the most important human activities. The other philosophes generally believed life would improve if people could en-oy more of the fruits of the earth or could produce more goods. )ousseau raised the more fundamental ?uestion of what constitutes the good life. This ?uestion has haunted 'uropean social thought ever since the eighteenth century. )ousseau carried these same concerns into his political thought. 3is most e5tensive discussion of politics appeared in The Social Contract 91#4%:. +lthough the boo& attracted rather little immediate attention, by the end of the century it was widely read in (rance. 8ompared with 7ontes?uieuBs Spirit o# the =a(s The Social Contract is a very abstract boo&. It does not propose specific reforms, but outlines the &ind of political structure that )ousseau believed would overcome the evils of contemporary politics and society. In the tradition of ,ohn .oc&e, most eighteenth-century political thin&ers regarded human beings as individuals and society as a collection of individuals pursuing personal, selfish goals. These writers wished to liberate individuals from the undue bonds of government. )ousseau pic&ed up the stic& from the other end. 3is boo& opens with the declaration, "+ll men are born free, but everywhere they are in chains."12 The rest of the volume is a defense of the chains of a properly organi!ed society over its members. )ousseau suggested that society is more important than its individual members, because they are what they are only by virtue of their relationship to the larger community. Independent human beings living alone can achieve very little. Through their relationship to the larger community, they become moral creatures capable of significant action. The ?uestion then becomes, Dhat &ind of community allows people to behave morallyE In his two previous discourses, )ousseau had e5plained that the contemporaneous 'uropean society was not such a communityL it was merely an aggregate of competing individuals whose chief
C Jean:Ja*Gues 0ousseau( The Social Contract and 4iscourses trans( by G. 6. 8. Cole >1ew 2orA: 6utton( !FC@( p. ?.

social goal was to preserve selfish independence in spite of all potential social bonds and obligations. )ousseau envisioned a society in which each person could maintain personal freedom while behaving as a loyal member of the larger community. Drawing on the traditions of Plato and 8alvin, he defined freedom as obedience to law. In his case, the law to be obeyed was that created by the general will. In a society with virtuous customs and morals in which citi!ens have ade?uate information on important issues, the concept of the general will is normally e?uivalent to the will of a ma-ority of voting citi!ens. Democratic participation in decision ma&ing would bind the individual citi!en to the community. )ousseau believed the general will, thus understood, must always be right and that to obey the general will is to be free. This argument led him to the notorious conclusion that under certain circumstances some people must be forced to be free. )ousseauBs politics thus constituted a -ustification for radical direct democracy and for collective action against individual citi!ens. )ousseau had in effect launched an assault on the eighteenth-century cult of the individual and the fruits of selfishness. 3e stood at odds with the commercial spirit that was transforming the society in which he lived. )ousseau would have disapproved of the main thrust of +dam *mithBs 9ealth o# 8a. tions which he may or may not have read, and would no doubt have preferred a study on the virtue of nations. *mith wanted people to be prosperous,-)ousseau wanted them to be good even if being good meant they might remain poor. 3e saw human beings not as independent individuals, but as creatures enmeshed in necessary social relationships. 3e believed loyalty to the community should be encouraged. +s one device to that end, he suggested a properly governed society should decree a civic religion based on the creed of deism. *uch a shared religion, the observance of which he thought should be enforced by repressive legislation, could, he argued, help unify a society. )ousseau had only a marginal impact on his own time. The other philosophes ?uestioned his criti?ue of material improvement. +ristocrats and royal ministers could hardly be e5pected to welcome his proposal for radical democracy. Too many people were either ma&ing or hoping to ma&e money to appreciate his criticism of commercial values. 3e proved, however, to be a figure to whom later generations returned. 7any leaders in the (rench )evolution were familiar with his writing, and he influenced many writers in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries who were critical of the general tenor and direction of Destern culture. )ousseau hated much about the emerging modern society in

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought 4# 'urope, but he contributed much to modernity by e5emplifying for later generations the critic who dared to call into ?uestion the very foundations of social thought and action.

4omen in the Thought an% Pra*ti*e of the .nlightenment

Domen, especially in (rance, helped significantly to promote the careers of the philosophes. In Paris, the salons of women such as 7arie-Therese eof-frin 914$$-1###:, ,ulie de .espinasse 91#00-1##4:, and 8laudine de Tencin 914;$-1#6$: gave the philosophes access to useful social and political contacts and a receptive environment in which to circulate their ideas. +ssociation with a fashionable salon brought philosophes increased social status and added luster and respectability to their ideas. They clearly en-oyed the opportunity to be the center of attention that a salon provided, and their presence at them could boost the sales of their wor&s. The women who organi!ed the salons were well connected to ma-or political figures who could help protect the philosophes and secure them pensions. The mar?uise de Pompadour, the mistress of .ouis G> 91#%1-1#46:, played a &ey role in overcoming efforts to censor the Encyclopedia, *he also helped bloc& the circulation of wor&s attac&ing the philosophes. =ther salon hostesses purchased the writings of the philosophes and distributed them among their friends. 7adame de Tencin was responsible for promoting 7ontes?uieuBs Spirit o# the =a(s in this way. Despite this help and support from the learned women of Paris, the philosophes were on the whole not strong feminists. 7any urged better and broader education for women. They critici!ed the education women did receive as overly religious, and they tended to re-ect ascetic views of se5ual relations. "ut in general, they displayed rather traditional views toward women and advocated no radical changes in the social condition of women. 7ontes?uieu, for e5ample, illustrates some of these tensions in the views of 'nlightenment writers toward women. 3e maintained in general that the status of women in a society was the result of climate, the political regime, culture, and womenBs physiological nature. 3e believed women were not naturally inferior to men and should have a wider role in society. 3e showed himself well aware of the &inds of personal, emotional, and se5ual repression 'uropean women endured in his day. 3e sympathetically observed the value placed on womenBs appearance and the pre-udice women met as they aged. In The Persian =etters he included a long e5change <=C 3pinozaOs Theologico.Political Treatise 1677 3pinozaOs Ethics >publishe% pothumously@ <"= 1ewtonOs Principia ;athematica <!C Lo*AeOs Essay Concerning 1uman Onderstanding 16A6 Tolan%Os Christianity 8ot ;ysterious =E +ontesGuieuOs Persian =etters =?? -oltaireOs =etters on the English =?" -oltaireOs Elements o# the Philosophy o# 8e(ton =D" +ontesGuieuOs Spirit o# the =a(s =D" 8umeOs In7uiry into 1uman 8ature with the *hapter J#f +ira*lesJ =FC 0ousseauOs 4iscourse on the ;oral E##ects o# the 3rts and Sciences =F First 'olume of the Encyclopedia e%ite% by 6i%erot =FF 0ousseauOs 4iscourse on the Origin o# Ine7uality =F! -oltaireOs Candide =<E 0ousseauOs Social Contract an% Emile =<? -oltaireOs Treatise on Tolerance =<D -oltaireOs Philosophical 4ictionary =<D ,e**ariaOs On Crimes and Punishments ==< GibbonOs 4echne and <all o# the Roman Empire ==< 3mithOs 9ealth o# 8ations ==! LessingOs 8athan the 9ise ="? +en%elsohnOs )erusalemQ
or On Ecclesiastical Po(er and #udaism =!E 4ollstone*raftOs Eindication o# the Rights o# 9oman =!? 7antOs Rehgion (ithin the =imits o# Reason 3lone

about the repression of women in a Persian harem, condemning by implication the restrictions on women in 'uropean society. Het there were limits to 7ontes?uieuBs willingness to consider social change in regard to the role of women in 'uropean life. +lthough in the Spirit o# the =a(s he indicated a belief in the e?uality of the se5es, he still retained a traditional view of marriage and family and e5pected men to dominate those institutions. (urthermore, although he supported the right of women to divorce and opposed laws directly oppressive of women, he upheld the ideal of female chastity. The views about women e5pressed in the Encyclopedia were less generous than those of 7ontes?uieu. It suggested some ways to improve

4; Enlightenment and Re*olution

The salon o# ;adame, ;arie Therese "eo##rin $16AA.1777% (as one o# the most important gathering spots #or Enlightenment (riters during the middle o# the eighteenth century, 9ell.connected (omen such as ;adame "eo##rin (ere instrumental in helping the philosophes they patroni6ed to 'ring their ideas to the attention o# in#luential people in <rench society and politics, Girau%on/ Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

womenBs lives, but in general, it did not include the condition of women as a focus of reform. The editors, Diderot and dB+lembert, recruited men almost e5clusively as contributors and evidently saw no need to include many articles by women. 7ost of the articles that dealt with women specifically or discussed women in connection with other sub-ects often emphasi!ed their physical wea&ness and inferiority, usually attributed to menstruation or childbearing. 8ontributors disagreed on the social e?uality of women. *ome favored it, others opposed it, and still others were indifferent. The articles conveyed a general sense that women were reared to be frivolous and unconcerned with important issues. The 'ncyclopedists discussed women primarily in a family conte5tCas daughters, wives, and mothersCand presented motherhood as their most important occupation. +nd on se5ual behavior, the 'ncyclopedists upheld an un?uestioned double standard. In contrast to the articles, however, illustrations in the Encyclopedia showed women deeply involved in the economic activities of the day. The illustrations also showed the activities of lower-class and wor&ing-class women, about whom the articles had little to say. =ne of the most surprising and influential analyses of the position of women came from ,ean-,ac?ues )ousseau. This most radical of all 'nlightenment political theorists urged a very traditional and conservative role for women. In his novel Emile 91#4%: 9discussed again in 8hapter %2:, he set forth a radical version of the view that men and women occupy separate spheres. 3e declared that women should be educated for a position subordinate to men, emphasi!ing especially womenBs function in bearing and rearing children. In his vision, there was little else for women to do but ma&e themselves pleasing to men. 3e portrayed them as wea&er and inferior to men in virtually all respects, e5cept perhaps for their capacity for feeling and giving love. 3e e5cluded them from political life. The world of citi!enship, political action, and civic virtue was to be populated by men. Domen were assigned the domestic sphere alone. 9*ee ")ousseau +rgues for *eparate *pheres for 7en and Domen.": 7any of these attitudes were not newCsome have roots as ancient as )oman lawC but )ousseauBs powerful presentation and the influence of his other writings gave them new life in the late eighteenth century. )ousseau deeply influenced many leaders of the (rench )evolution, who, as we see in the ne5t chapter, often incorporated his view on gender roles in the policies they implemented. Parado5ically, in spite of these views and in spite of his own ill treatment of the woman who bore his many children, )ousseau achieved a vast following among women in the eighteenth century. 3e is credited with persuading thousands of upper-class women to breast-feed their own children rather than putting them out to wet nurses. =ne e5planation for this influence is that his writings, although they did not advocate liberating women or e5panding their social or economic roles, did stress the importance of their emotions and sub-ective feelings. 3e portrayed the domestic life and the role of wife and mother as a noble and fulfilling vocation, giving middle- and upper-class women a sense that their daily occupations had

Chapter 18

I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought 4$

ROUSSEAU ARGUES ,OR SEPARATE SPHERES ,OR

EN AN+ WO EN

Rousseau pu'lished 'mile, a no*el a'out education in 176@, In it he made one o# the strongest and most in#luential arguments o# the eighteenth century #or distinct social roles #or men and (omen, <urthermore he portrayed (omen as #undamentally su'ordinate to men, In the ne!t document ;ary 9ollstonecra#t a contemporary presents a re'uttal, / 1o( does Rousseau mo*e #rom the physical di##erences 'et(een men and (omen to an argument #or distinct social roles and social spheres0 9hat (ould 'e the proper -inds o# social acti*ities #or (omen in Rousseau+s *ision0 9hat -ind o# education (ould he thinappropriate #or (omen0 Pirtiere is no parity between the two se5es in re-G gard to the conse?uences of se5. The male is male only at certain moments. The female is female her whole life or at least during her whole youth. 'verything constantly recalls her se5 to herL and, to fulfill its functions well, she needs a constitution which corresponds to it. *he needs care during her pregnancyL she needs rest at the time of childbirthL she needs a soft and sedentary life to suc&le her childrenL she needs patience and gentleness, a !eal and an affection that nothing can rebuff in order to raise her children. *he serves as the lin& between them and their fatherL she alone ma&es him love them and gives him the confidence to call them his own. 3ow much tenderness and care is re?uired to maintain the union of the whole familyT +nd, finally, all this must come not from virtues but from tastes, or else the human species would soon be e5tinguished. The strictness of the relative duties of the two se5es is not and cannot be the same. Dhen woman complains on this score about un-ust man-made ine?uality, she is wrong. This ine?uality is not a human institutionCor, at least, it is the wor& not of pre-udice but of reason. It is up to the se5 that nature has charged with the bearing of children to be responsible for them to the other se5. Doubtless it is not permitted to any one to violate his faith, and every unfaithful husband who deprives his wife of the only reward of the austere duties of her se5 is an un-ust and barbarous man. "ut the unfaithful woman does moreL she dissolves the family and brea&s all the bonds of nature.... =nce it is demonstrated that man and woman are not and ought not be constituted in the same way in either character or temperament, it follows that they ought not to have the same education. In following natureBs directions, man and woman ought to act in concert, but they ought not to do the same things. The goal of their labors is eom-mon, but their labors themselves are different, and conse?uently so are the tastes directing them---The good constitution of children initially depends on that of their mothers. The first education of men depends on the care of women. 7enBs morals, their passions, their tastes, their pleasures, their very happiness also depend on women. Thus the whole education of women ought to relate to men. To please men, to be useful to them, to ma&e herself loved and honored by them, to raise them when young, to care for them when grown, to counsel them, to console them, to ma&e their lives agreeable and sweetCthese are the duties of women at all times, and they ought to be taught from childhood. *o long as one does notF return to this principle, one will deviate from the goal,F and all the precepts taught to women will be of no use for their happiness or for ours. From Emile or On Education by Jean:Ja*Gues 0ousseau by Allan ,loom( Translator. Copyright !=! by ,asi* ,ooAs( )n*. 0eprinte% by permission of ,asi* ,ooAs( a member of Perseus ,ooAs( L.).C. purpose. 3e assigned them a degree of influence in the domestic sphere that they could not have competing with men outside it. In 1#$%, in + Eindication o# the Rights o# 9oman 7ary Dollstonecraft 91#1$-1#$#: brought )ousseau before the -udgment of the rational 'nlightenment ideal of progressive &nowledge. The immediate incentive for this essay was her opposition to certain policies of the (rench )evolution, unfavorable to women, which were inspired by )ousseau. Dollstonecraft 9who, li&e so many women of her day, died of puerperal fever shortly after

=C Enlightenment and Re*olution

AR@ WOLLSTONECRA,T CRITICIQES ROUSSEAU>S *IEW O, WO EN

;ary 9ollstonecra#t pu'lished 3 >indication of the )ights of Doman in 17A@ thirty years a#ter RousseauSEmilp had appeared, In this pioneering #eminist (or- she critici6es and re:ects Rousseau+s argument #o! distinct mid separate spheres #or men and (omen, She portrays that argument as de#ending the continued 'ondage o# (omen to men and as hindering the (iderJeducation o# the entire h(inan race, / 9hat speci#ic criticisms does 9ollstonecra#t direct against Rousseau+s *ie(s0 9hy does 9ollstonecra#t put so much emphasis on a ne( -ind o# education #or (omen0 + J hphe most perfect education . . . is such an Vter-1 cise of the understanding as is best calculated to strengthen the body and form the heart. =r, in other words, to enable the individual to attain such habits of virtue as will render it in%epen%ent. In fact, it is a farce to call any being virtuous whose virtues do not result from the e5ercise of its own reasoP This was )ousseauBs opinion respecting rrie-pfeF I e5tend it to womenQQQQ I may be accused of arroganceL still I must declare what I firmly believe, that all the writers who have written on the sub-ect of female education and manners from )ousseau to Dr. regory @a *cottish physicianA, have contributed to render women more artificial, wea& characters, than they would otherwise have beenL and,, conse?uently, more useless members of society. v *trengthen the female mind fePritargPng iiP( and there will be an end to blind obedienceL biit, as blind obedience is ever sought for by power, tyrants and sensualists are in the right when they en%ea'our to &eep women in the dar&, because the former only wants s-pvesU and the -latter a play-thifig. The sensualist, indeed, has been the most dangerous of tyrants, atod women have been duped by their lovers, as prices by their ministers, whilst dreaming that thPreigned over them---)ousseau declares that a woman should never, for a moment, feel herself independent, that she should be governed by fear to e5ercise her natural !"Bmin)' and made a co?uettish slave in order to reS6

YJReSO more alluring ob-ect of desire, a sweeter comPnion to man, whenever he chooses to rela5 himsK. carries the arguments, which he pretends to draw
1

childbirth: accused )ousseau and others after him who upheld traditional roles for women of attempting to narrow womenBs vision and limit their e5perience. *he argued that to confine women to the separate domestic sphere because of supposed limitations of their physiological nature was to ma&e them the sensual slaves of men. 8onfined in this separate sphere, they were the victims of male tyranny, their obedience was blind, and they could never achieve their own moral or intellectual identity. Denying good education to women would impede the progress of all humanity. 9*ee "7ary Dollstonecraft 8ritici!es )ousseauBs >iew of Domen.": Dith these arguments, Dollstonecraft was demanding for women the &ind of liberty that male writers of the 'nlightenment had been championing for men for more than a century. In doing so, she placed herself among the philosophes and broadened the agenda of the 'nlightenment to include the rights of women as well as those of men.

.nlightene% Absolutism

7ost of the philosophes favored neither 7ontes?uieuBs reformed and revived aristocracy nor )ousseauBs democracy as a solution to contemporary political problems. .i&e other thoughtful people of the day in other stations and occupations, they loo&ed to the e5isting monarchies. >oltaire was a very strong monarchist. In 1#1$, he published a 1istory o# the Russian Empire under Peter the "reat which declared, "Peter was born, and )ussia was formed." 11 >oltaire and other philosophes, such as Diderot, who visited 8atherine II of )ussia, and the physiocrats, some of whom were ministers to the (rench &ings, did not wish to limit the power of monarchs. )ather, they sought to redirect that power toward the rationali!ation of economic and political
5uote% in Larry 4olff( In*enting Eastern Europe2 The ;ap o# Ci*ili6ation on the ;ind o# the Enlightenment >Palo Alto( CA: 3tanfor% &ni'ersity Press( !!D@( p. ECC.

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought = from the indications of nature, still further, and insinuates that truth and fortitude, the cornerstones of all human virtue, should be cultivated with certain restrictions, because, with respect to the female character, obedience is the grand lesson which ought to be impressed with unrelenting rigour. Dhat nonsenseT when will a great man arise with sufficient strength of mind to put away the fumes which pride and sensuality have thus spread over the sub-ectT If women are by nature inferior to men, their virtues must be the same in ?uality, if not in degree, or virtue is. a relative ideaL conse?uently, their conduct should be founded on the same principles, and have the same aim. 8onnected with man as daughters, wives, and mothers, their moral character may be estimated by their manner of fulfilling those simple dutiesL but the end, the grand end of their e5ertions should be to unfold their own faculties and ac?uire the dignity of conscious virtue.... "ut avoiding . . . any direct comparison of the two se5es collectively, or fran&ly ac&nowledging the inferiority of women, according to the present appearance of things, I shall only insist that men have increased that inferiority till wor+en are almost sun& below the standard of rational creatures. .et their faculties have room to unfol%(( and their virtues to gain strength, and then %etermine where the whole se5 must stand in the intellectual scale.... I. .. will venture to assert, that till women are more rationally educated, the progress of human virtue and improvement in &nowledge must receive continual, chec&s.... The mother, who wishes to give true dignity of character to her daughter, must, regardless of the sneers of ignorance, proceed on a plant-iametrical-ly opposite to that which )ousseau has recommended with all the deluding charms of elo?uence and philosophical sophistryF for his elo?uence renders absurdities plausible, and his dogmatic conclusions pu!!le, without convincing, those who have not ability to refute them. From +ary 4ollstone*raft( 3 Eindication o# the Rights o# 9oman e%. by Carol 8. Poston Z1ew 2orA: 4.4. 1orton( !=F@( pp. E ( EE(ED:E<(?F(DC(D . structures and the liberation of intellectual life. 7ost philosophes were not opposed to power if they could find a way of using it for their own purposes or if they could profit in one way or another from their personal relationships to strong monarchs. During the last third of the century, it seemed to some observers that several 'uropean rulers had actually embraced many of the reforms set forth by the philosophes. Enlightened a'solutism is the term used to describe this phenomenon. It indicates monarchical government dedicated to the rational strengthening of the central absolutist administration at the cost of other lesser centers of political power. The monarchs most closely associated with it are (rederic& II of Prussia, ,oseph II of +ustria, and 8atherine II of )ussia. 'ach had complicated relationships to the community of enlightened writers. (rederic& II corresponded with the philosophes, provided >oltaire with a place at his court for a time, and even wrote history and political tracts. 8atherine n( adept at what would later be called public relations, consciously sought to create the image of being enlightened. *he read and cited the wor&s of the philosophes, provided financial subsidies to Diderot, and corresponded e5tensively with >oltaire, lavishing compliments on him, all in the hope that she would receive favorable comments from them, as she indeed did. ,oseph II continued numerous initiatives begun by his mother, 7aria Theresa. 3e imposed a series of religious, legal, and social reforms that contemporaries believed he had derived from suggestions of the philosophes. The relationship between these rulers and the writers of the 'nlightenment was, however, more complicated than these appearances suggest. The humanitarian and liberating !eal of the 'nlightenment writers was only part of what motivated the policies of the rulers. (rederic& n( ,oseph n( and 8atherine II were also determined that their nations would play ma-or diplomatic and military roles in 'urope. In no small measure, they adopted 'nlightenment policies favoring the rational economic and social integration

=E Enlightenment and Re*olution

;ary 9ollstonecra#t insisted that (omen possessed reason :ust as men did and thus should 'e treated as the e7uals o# men, ,ettmann/Corbis

of their realms because these policies also increased their military strength. +s e5plained in 8hapter =( all the states of 'urope had emerged from the *even HearsB Dar &nowing they would need stronger armies for future wars and increased revenues to finance those armies. The search for new revenues and internal political support was one of the incentives prompting the "enlightened" reforms of the monarchs of )ussia, Prussia, and +ustria. 8onse?uently, they and their advisers used rationality to pursue many goals admired by most philosophes, but also to further what some among the philosophes considered irrational militarism. The flattery of monarchs could bend the opinions of a philosophe. (or e5ample, >oltaire, who had written against war, could praise the military e5pansion of 8atherineBs )ussia because it appeared in his mind to bring civili!ation to peoples he regarded as uncivili!ed and because he en-oyed being &nown as a literary confidant of the empress.

F0.6.0)C7 T8. G0.AT #F P0&33)A

(rederic& n( the reat 9r. =DC: ="<@( sought the recovery and consolidation of Prussia in the wa&e of its suffering and near defeat in the midcentury wars. 3e succeeded, at great military and financial cost, in retaining *ilesia, which he had sei!ed from +ustria in =DC( and wor&ed to promote it as a manufacturing district. .i&e his 3ohen!ollern forebears, he continued to import wor&ers from outside Prussia. 3e directed new attention to Prussian agriculture. /nder state supervision, swamps were drained, new crops introduced, and peasants encouraged and sometimes compelled to migrate where they were needed. (or the first time in Prussia, potatoes and turnips came into general production. (rederic& also established a land-mortgage credit association to help landowners raise money for agricultural improvements. The impetus for these economic policies came from the state. The monarchy and its bureaucracy were the engine for change. 7ost Prussians, however, did not prosper under (rederic&Bs reign. The burden of ta5ation continued to fall disproportionately on peasants and townspeople. (rederic&Bs noneconomic policies met with somewhat more success. 8ontinuing the 3ohen!ollern policy of toleration, he allowed 8atholics and ,ews to settle in his predominantly .utheran country, and he protected the 8atholics living in *ilesia. This policy permitted the state to benefit from the economic contribution of foreign wor&ers. (rederic&, however, virtually always appointed Protestants to ma-or positions in the government and army. (rederic& also ordered a new codification of Prussian law, completed after his death. 3is ob-ective was to rationali!e the e5isting legal system, ma&ing it more efficient, eliminating regional peculiarities, and reducing aristocratic influence. (rederic& shared this concern for legal reform with the other enlightened monarchs, who saw it as a means of e5tending and strengthening royal power. )eflecting an important change in the 'uropean view of the ruler, (rederic& li&ed to describe himself as "the first servant of the *tate." The impersonal state was beginning to replace the personal monarchy. Rings might come and go, but the apparatus of governmentCthe bureaucracy, the armies, the laws, the courts, and the combination of power, service, and protection that compelled citi!ensB loyalty C remained. The state as an entity separate from the personality of the ruler came into its own after the (rench )evolution, but it was born in the monarchies of the =ld )egime.

J#3.P8 )) #F A&3T0)A
<o eighteenth-century ruler so embodied rational, impersonal force as the emperor ,oseph II of +ustria. 3e was the son of 7aria Theresa and co-ruler with her from =<F to ="C. During the ne5t ten years he ruled alone. 3e was an austere and humorless person. During much of his life, he slept on straw and

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought =? ate little but beef. 3e prided himself on a narrow, passionless rationality, which he sought to impose by his own will on the various 3absburg domains. Despite his eccentricities and the coldness of his personality, ,oseph n sincerely wished to improve the lot of his people. 3e was much less a political opportunist and cynic than either (rederic& the reat of Prussia or 8atherine the reat of )ussia. The ultimate result of his well-intentioned efforts was a series of aristocratic and peasant rebellions e5tending from 3ungary to the +ustrian <etherlands. Centralization of Authority +s e5plained in 8hapter 11, of all the rising states of the eighteenth century, +ustria was the most diverse in its people and problems. )obert Palmer li&ened it to "a vast holding company."1% The 3absburgs never succeeded in creating either a unified administrative structure or a strong aristocratic loyalty. To preserve the monarchy during the Dar of the +ustrian *uccession 91#62-1#6;:, 7aria Theresa had guaranteed the aristocracy considerable independence, especially in 3ungary. During and after the conflict, however, 7aria Theresa too& steps to strengthen the power of the crown outside of 3ungary, building more of a bureaucracy than had previous 3absburg rulers. In +ustria and "ohemia, through ma-or administrative reorgani!ation, she imposed a much more efficient system of ta5 collection that e5tracted funds even from the clergy and the nobles. *he also established several central councils to deal with governmental problems. To assure her government a sufficient supply of educated officials, she sought to bring all educational institutions into the service of the crown. *he also e5panded primary education on the local level. 7aria Theresa was concerned about the welfare of the peasants and serfs. *he brought them some assistance by e5tending the authority of the royal bureaucracy over local nobles and decreeing hmits on the amount of labor, or ro'ot landowners could demand from peasants. 3er concern was not particularly humanitarianL rather, it arose from her desire to assure a good pool from which to draw military recruits. In all these policies and in her general desire to stimulate prosperity and military strength by royal initiative, 7aria Theresa anticipated the policies of her son. ,oseph II was more determined than his mother, and his pro-ected reforms were more wide ranging. 3e aimed to e5tend the borders of his territories in the direction of Poland, "avaria, and the =ttoman 'mpire. 3is greatest ambition, however, was to increase the authority of the 3absburg emperor over his various
E 0obert 0. Palmer( The 3ge o# 4emocratic Re*olution -ol. Press( !F!@( p. C?.

>Prin*eton( 1J: Prin*eton &ni'ersity

realms. 3e sought to overcome the pluralism of the 3absburg holdings by imposing central authority in areas of political and social life in which 7aria Theresa had wisely chosen not to e5ert authority. In particular, ,oseph sought to reduce 3ungarian autonomy. To avoid having to guarantee 3ungaryBs e5isting privileges or e5tend new ones at the time of his coronation, he refused to have himself crowned &ing of 3ungary and even had the 8rown of *aint *tephen sent to the Imperial Treasury in >ienna. 3e reorgani!ed local government in 3ungary to increase the authority of his own officials. 3e also re?uired the use of erman in all governmental matters. The 7agyar nobility resisted these measures, and in 1#$2 ,oseph had to rescind most of them. .**lesiasti*al Poli*ies +nother target of ,osephBs assertion of royal absolutism was the church. (rom the reign of 8harles > in the si5teenth century to that of 7aria Theresa, the 3absburgs had been the most important dynastic champion of )oman 8atholicism. 7aria Theresa was devout, but she had not allowed the church to limit her authority. +lthough she had attempted to discourage certain of the more e5treme modes of )oman 8atholic popular rehgious piety, such as public flagellation, she adamantly opposed toleration. 9*ee "7aria Theresa and ,oseph II of +ustria Debate Toleration.": N ,oseph II was also a practicing 8atholic, but from the standpoint of both 'nlightenment and pragmatic politics, he favored a policy of toleration. In =ctober 1#;1, ,oseph issued a toleration patent or decree that e5tended freedom of worship to .utherans, 8alvinists, and the ree& =rthodo5. They were permitted to have their own places of worship, to sponsor schools, to enter s&illed trades, and to hold academic appointments and positions in the public service. (rom 1#;1 through 1#;$, ,oseph issued a series of patents and other enactments that relieved the ,ews in his realms of certain ta5es and signs of personal degradation. 3e also e5tended to them the right of private worship. +lthough these actions benefited the ,ews, they did not grant them full e?uality with other 3absburg sub-ects. ,oseph also sought to bring the various institutions of the )oman 8atholic 8hurch directly under royal control. 3e forbade direct communication between the bishops of his realms and the pope. >iewing rehgious orders as unproductive, he dissolved more than si5 hundred monasteries and confiscated their lands. 3e e5cepted, however, certain orders that ran schools or hospitals. 3e dissolved the traditional )oman 8atholic seminaries, which instilled in priests too great a loyalty to the papacy and too little concern for their future parishioners. In their place, he sponsored eight general seminaries whose training

=D Enlightenment and Re*olution

ARIA THERESA AN+ JOSEPH II O, AUSTRIA +ERATE TOLERATION

In 176? )oseph the eldest s*n o# the Empress ;aria Theresa had 'ecome co.regent (ith his mother, 1e 'egan to 'elie*e some meatiKred#religious toleration should 'e +TQ :muodmed into the 1a's'urg realms, ;aria ThKresa (hose opinions on many po. HGCcal isstieTJS)ere 7uite ad*anced adamantly re#used to consider adopting a policy is e!change o# letters sets #orth their sharply di##er;g posii-ms, the toleration o# Protestants that is in dispute related only to =utheramHahdF:al*Hists, ;aria Tnere(;ed in 1780Q the ne!t year )oseph issued an edict o# ioHera9Kn SQ / 1o( does )Kseph de#ine tolerationH and (hy does ;aria Theresa 'elidHi#mKe same as religious indi##erence0 9ny does+;aria Theresa #ear that tolerBti-;M(i;U 'ring a'out political as (ell+Ki religious tutmoil0 9hy does ;aria Theresa rPnic-that )oseph+s 'elie# in tFGVratGon has come #rom )oseph+s ac7uaintanceHH (ic-ed 'oo-s0 T/.$, , Q B J#3.P8 T# +A0)A T8.0.3A( f!piffi K77 -Pis-PyVhe word "toleration"L which has caused t0tePPsWnWrstandirig. Hou have ta&en it in ?uite a differXP meaning @from mine e5pressed in an earlier letterT WYd preserve me from thin&ing it a matter of indifference whether the citi!ens turn Protestant or remain 8atholic, Ntill less, whether they cleave to, orF at least obfertre, the"BBcult which they have inherited from theitifathersl t would giye. all I possess if all the ProtestarPs ol your states would go over to 8atholicism. The word "toleration," as I understand it, means only that I would employ any persons, without distinction of religion, in purely temporal matters, allow them to own property, practice tradesOLZ:e citi!ens, i,<faf-r were ?ualified and if this would beof acrvantagetotfte *tate and its industry. Those who, imiortyiiatPly, adhere to a false faith, are far further from, being converged if they remain in their own country than if they migrate into another, in which they can hear and see the convincing truths of the 8atholic faith. *imilarly, the undisturbed practice of their religion ma&es them far better sub-ects and causes them to avoid irreli-gion, which is a far greater danger to our 8atholics than if one lets them see others practice their religion unimpeded. +A0)A T8.0.3A T# J#3.P8( LAT. J&L2 === Dithout a dominant religionE Toleration, indifference are precisely the twZfe means of undermining every things ta&ing away every foundationL we others will thenle the greatest losers.... 3e is no fr-iend of hutnP,iityL as Vie popular phrase is, who allows everyone his own thoughts. I am spea&ing only in the Voliti?[i sense, not as a 8hristianL nothing is so necessary and salutary as religion. Dill you allow everyone to fashion his own religion as pleasesE <o fi5ed cult, no subordinat Kph fPllhg hirrNhC what will then become of usE The -esult will not be ?uiet and contentmentL its outc=ttle wi+ tNe rule of the stronger and more unhappy tihie*Tii&*S those which we -iave already seen. + manifesto you to this effectPfcanproduce the utmost distress" and ma&e you responsible fctf rttan- thousands of souls. +nd what 255ty2mn su\errrigZ, when I see you entangled in opinions so erroneousE Dhat is at sta&e is not only the we3are c] thePtate but your own salvation. . . . Turning your eyes and ears everywhere, mingling your spirit of contradiction with, the simultaneous desire to create something, youP are ruining yourself and dragging the 7onarchy down with you into the abyss.. . . I only wish to lfye so long as I can hope to descend to myZ ancestors with the consolation that niZis4n will r:e as great, as religious as his forebearsllihat he Pill re-, turn from his erroneous views,B fromF thoseiwic&ed boo&s whose authors parade-thKLt clft>erness at the e5pense of all that is mo"trioi\Pn6Brii\st wortny of respect in the worldU, who wahtto introduce an imaginary freedom which Bi[ih never e5ist and which degenerates mtaLlicense and into complete revolution. As Guote% in C. A. +a*artney( cK The 1a's'urg and 1ohen6ollern 4ynasties in the Se*enteenth and Eighteenth Centuries >1ew 2orA: 4alAer( !=C@( pp. F lK)UPHW 0eprinte% by permission of 4alAer an% CH(

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought =F emphasi!ed parish duties. 3e also issued decrees creating new parishes in areas with a shortage of priests, funding them with money from the confiscated monasteries. In effect, ,osephBs policies made )oman 8atholic priests the employees of the state, ending the influence of the )oman 8atholic 8hurch as an independent institution in 3absburg lands. In many respects, the ecclesiastical policies of ,oseph n( &nown as )oseyhinism prefigured those of the (rgnrh )evolution, 'conomic and +grarian )eform .i&e (rederic& of Prussia, ,oseph sought to improve the economic life of his domains. 3e abolished many internal tariffs and encouraged road building and the improvement of river transport. 3e went on personal inspection tours of farms and manufacturing districts. ,oseph also reconstructed the -udicial system to ma&e laws more uniform and rational and to lessen the influence of local landlords. <ational courts with power over the landlord courts were established. +ll of these improvements were e5pected to bring new unity to the state and more ta5es into the imperial coffers in >ienna. ,osephBs policies toward serfdom and the land were a far-reaching e5tension of those 7aria Theresa had initiated. =ver the course of his reign, he introduced a series of reforms that touched the very heart of the rural social structure. 3e did not see& to abolish the authority of landlords over their peasants, but he did see& to ma&e that authority more moderate and sub-ect to the oversight of royal officials. 3e abolished serfdom as a legally sanctioned state of servitude. 3e granted peasants a wide array of personal freedoms, including the right to marry, to engage in s&illed wor&, and to have their children trained in s&illed wor& without the landlordBs permission. ,oseph reformed the procedures of the manorial courts and opened avenues of appeal to royal officials. 3e also encouraged landlords to change land leases so it would be easier for peasants to inherit them or to transfer them to other peasants. 3is goal in all of these efforts to reduce traditional burdens on peasants was to ma&e them more productive and industrious farmers. <ear the end of his reign, ,oseph proposed a new and daring system of land ta5ation. 3e decreed in 1#;$ that all proprietors of the land were to be ta5ed regardless of social status. <o longer were the peasants alone to bear the burden of ta5ation. 3e abolished ro'ot and commuted it into a monetary ta5, only part of which was to go to the landlord, the rest reverting to the state. )esistant nobles bloc&ed the implementation of this decree, and after ,oseph died in 1#$2 it did not go into effect. This and other of ,osephBs earlier measures, however, brought turmoil throughout the 3absburg realms. Peasants revolted over disagreements about the interpretation of their newly granted rights. The nobles of the various realms protested the ta5ation scheme. The 3ungarian 7agyars resisted ,osephBs centrali!ation measures and forced him to rescind them. =n ,osephBs death, the crown went to his brother .eopold II 9r. 1#$2-1#$%:. +lthough sympathetic to ,osephBs goals, .eopold found himself forced to repeal many of the most controversial decrees, such as that on ta5ation. In other areas, .eopold thought his brotherBs policies simply wrong. (or e5ample, he returned much political and administrative power to local nobles because he thought it e5pedient for them to have a voice in government. *till, he did not repudiate his brotherBs policies wholesale. 3e retained, in particular, ,osephBs religious policies and maintained political centrali!ation to the e5tent he thought possible.

CAT8.0)1. T8. G0.AT #F 0&33)A

,oseph II never grasped the practical necessity of forging political constituencies to support his policies. 8atherine II 9r. 1#4%-1#$4:, who had been born a erman princess, but who became empress of )ussia, understood only too well the fragility of the )omanov dynastyBs base of power. =EF =EF: =E= =E=: =?C =?C: =D =DC: =D =D : =<E =<E =<E =<= =<! ==?: ==F ==E ==D ==F ="? ="F =!? =!F =!< 6eath of Peter the Great Catherine ) Peter )) Anna )'an -) .lizabeth Peter ))) Catherine )) >the Great@ be*omes empress Legislati'e *ommission summone% 4ar with TurAey begins Puga*he'Os 0ebellion First Partition of Polan%

Treaty of 7u*huA:7ainar%Pi en%s war with TurAey 0eorganization of lo*al go'ernment 0ussia anne$es the Crimea Catherine issues the Charter of the 1obility 3e*on% Partition of Polan% Thir% Partition of Polan% 6eath of Catherine the Great

== Enlightenment and Re*olution

Catherine the "reat ascended to the Russian throne a#ter the murder o# her hus'and, She tried initially to enact ma:or re#orms 'ut she ne*er intended to a'andon a'solutism, She assured no'les o# their rights and 'y the end o# her reign had imposed press censorship,
The Granger Colle*tion

+fter the death of Peter the reat in 1#%1, the court nobles and the army repeatedly determined the )ussian succession. +s a result, the crown fell primarily into the hands of people with little talent. PeterBs wife, 8atherine I, ruled for two years 91#%1-1#%#: and was succeeded for three years by PeterBs grandson, Peter ,,. In 1#02, the crown devolved on +nna, a niece of Peter the reat. During 1#62 and 1#61, a child named Ivan >I, who was less than a year old, was the nominal ruler. (inally, in 1#61, Peter the reatBs daughter 'li!abeth came to the throne. *he held the title of empress until 1#4%, but her reign was not notable for new political departures or sound administration. 3er court was a shambles of political and romantic intrigue. 7uch of the power possessed by the tsar at the opening of the century had vanished. +t her death in 1#4%, 'li!abeth was succeeded by Peter III, one of her nephews. 3e was a wea& ruler whom many contemporaries considered mad. 3e immediately e5empted the nobles from compulsory military service and then rapidly made peace with (rederic& the reat, for whom he held unbounded admiration. That decision probably saved Prussia from military defeat in the *even HearsB Dar. The one positive feature of this unbalanced creatureBs life was his marriage in 1#61 to a young erman princess born in +nhalt Kerbst. This was the future 8atherine the reat. (or almost twenty years, 8atherine lived in misery and fre?uent danger at the court of 'li!abeth. During that time, she befriended important nobles and read widely in the boo&s of the philosophes. *he was a shrewd person whose e5perience in a court crawling with rumors, intrigue, and conspiracy had taught her how to survive. *he e5hibited neither love nor fidelity toward her demented husband. + few months after his accession as tsar, Peter was deposed and murdered with 8atherineBs approval, if not her aid, and she was immediately proclaimed empress. 8atherineBs familiarity with the 'nlightenment and the general culture of western 'urope convinced her )ussia was very bac&ward and that it must ma&e ma-or reforms if it was to remain a great power. *he understood that any ma-or reform must have a wide base of political and social support, especially since she had assumed the throne through a palace coup. In 1#4#, she summoned a legislative commission to advise her on revisions in the law and government of )ussia. There were more than five hundred delegates, drawn from all sectors of )ussian life. "efore the commission convened, 8atherine issued a set of instructions, partly written by herself. They contained many ideas drawn from the political writings of the philosophes. The commission considered the instructions as well as other ideas and complaints raised by its members. The revision of )ussian law, however, did not occur for more than half a century. In 1#4;, 8atherine dismissed the commission before several of its &ey committees had reported. Het the meeting had not been useless, for a vast amount of information had been gathered about the conditions of local administration and economic life throughout the realm. The inconclusive debates and the absence of programs from the delegates themselves suggested that most )ussians saw no alternative to an autocratic monarchy. (or her part, 8atherine had no intention of departing from absolutism. .imited +dministrative )eform 8atherine proceeded to carry out limited reforms on her own authority. *he gave strong support to the rights and local power of the nobility. In 1##1, she reorgani!ed local government to solve problems brought to light by the legislative commission. *he put most local offices in the hands of nobles rather than creating a royal bureaucracy. In 1#;1, 8atherine issued the

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought ="

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8harter of the <obility, which guaranteed nobles many rights and privileges. In part, the empress had no choice but to favor the nobles. They had the capacity to topple her from the throne. There were too few educated sub-ects in her realm to establish an independent bureaucracy, and the treasury could not afford an army strictly loyal to the crown. *o 8atherine wisely made a virtue of necessity. *he strengthened the stability of her crown by ma&ing convenient friends with her nobles. 'conomic rowth Part of 8atherineBs program was to continue the economic development begun under Peter the reat. *he attempted to suppress internal barriers to trade. '5ports of grain, fla5, furs, and naval stores grew dramatically. *he also favored the e5pansion of the small )ussian urban middle class that was so vital to trade. +nd through all of these departures 8atherine tried to maintain ties of friendship and correspondence with the philosophes. *he &new that if she treated them &indly, they would be sufficiently flattered to give her a progressive reputation throughout 'urope. Territorial '5pansion 8atherineBs hmited administrative reforms and her policy of economic growth had a counterpart in the diplomatic sphere. The )ussian drive for warm-water ports continued. 9*ee 7ap 1;-1.: This goal re?uired warfare with the Tur&s. In 1#4$, as a result of a minor )ussian incursion, the =ttoman 'mpire declared war on )ussia. The )ussians responded in a series of stri&ingly successful military moves. During 1#4$ and 1##2, the )ussian fleet sailed all the way from the "altic *ea into the eastern 7editerranean. The )ussian army won several ma-or victories that by 1##1 gave )ussia control of =ttoman provinces on the Danube )iver and the 8rimean coast of the "lac& *ea. The conflict dragged on until 1##6, when it was closed by the Treaty of Ruchu&-Rainard-i. The treaty gave )ussia a direct outlet on the "lac& *ea, free navigation rights in its waters, and free access through the "osporus. The province of the 8rimea became an independent state, which 8atherine painlessly anne5ed in 1#;0. (inally, under this treaty 8atherine as empress of )ussia was made the protector of the orthodo5 8hristians living in the =ttoman 'mpire. In the future this would cause conflict with (rance whose monarch had previously been recogni!ed as the protector of )oman 8atholic 8hristians in the empire.

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": .LPA13)#1 #F 0&33)A( <"!: =!< The o*erriding territorial aim o# Peter the "reat in the #irst 7uarter o# the eighteenth century and o# Catherine the "reat in the latter hal# (as to secure year.round na*iga'le outlets to the sea #or the *ast Russian EmpireWhence Peter+s push to the &altic Sea and Catherine+s to the &lac- Sea, Catherine also managed to ac7uire large areas o# Poland through the partitions o# that country,

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These an5ieties were overcome by an e5traordinary division of Polish territory &nown as the (irst Partition of Poland. The )ussian victories along the Danube )iver were most unwelcome to +ustria, which also harbored ambitions of territorial e5pansion in that direction. +t the same time, the =ttoman 'mpire was pressing Prussia for aid against )ussia. (rederic& the reat made a proposal to )ussia and +ustria that would give each something it wanted, prevent conflict among the powers, and save appearances.

"C Enlightenment and Re*olution +fter long, complicated secret negotiations, the three powers agreed )ussia would abandon the con?uered Danubian provinces. In compensation, )ussia received a large portion of Polish territory with almost % million inhabitants. +s a reward for remaining neutral, Prussia anne5ed most of the territory between 'ast Prussia and Prussia proper. This land allowed (rederic& to unite two previously separate sections of his realm. (inally, +ustria too& alicia, with its important salt mines, and other Polish territory with more than %.1 million inhabitants. 9*ee 7ap 1;-%.: In *eptember 1##%, the helpless Polish aristocracyO paying the price for maintaining internal liberties at the e5pense of developing a strong central government, ratified this sei!ure of nearly one-third of Polish territory. The loss was not necessarily fatal to PolandBs continued e5istence, and it inspired a revival of national feeling. )eal attempts were made

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":E PA0T)T)#13 #F P#LA16( ==E( =!?( A16 =!F The callous eradication o# Poland #rom the map displayed eighteenth.century po(er politics at its most e!treme, Poland (ithout strong central go*ernmental institutions #ell *ictim to those states in central and eastern Europe that had de*eloped such institutions, to ad-ust the Polish political structures to the realities of the time. These proved, however, to be too little and too late. The political and military strength of Poland could not match that of its stronger, more ambitious neighbors. The partition of Poland clearly demonstrated that any nation that had not established a strong monarchy, bureaucracy, and army could no longer compete within the 'uropean state system. It also demonstrated that the ma-or powers in eastern 'urope were prepared to settle their own rivalries at the e5pense of such a wea& state. If such territory from a wea&er state had not been available, the tendency of the international rivalries would have been to warfare. )ussia and Prussia partitioned Poland again in 1#$0, and )ussia, Prussia, and +ustria partitioned it a third time in 1#$1, removing it from the map of 'urope for more than a century. 'ach time, the great powers contended they were saving themselves, and by implication the rest of 'urope, from Polish anarchy. The fact of the matter was that PolandBs political wea&ness left it vulnerable to plunderous aggression. The partitions of 1#$0 and 1#$1 too& place in the shadow of the (rench )evolution, which left the absolute monarchies of eastern 'urope concerned for their own stability. +s a result, they reacted harshly even to minor attempts at reform by the Polish nobles, fearing they might infect their own domains. During the last two decades of the eighteenth century, all three regimes based on enlightened absolutism became more conservative and politically repressive. In Prussia and +ustria, the innovations of the rulers stirred resistance among the nobility. In )ussia, fear of peasant unrest was the chief factor. (rederic& the reat of Prussia grew remote during his old age, leaving the aristocracy to fill important military and administrative posts. + reaction to 'nlightenment ideas also set in among Prussian .utheran writers. In +ustria, ,oseph IIBs plans to restructure society and administration in his realms provo&ed growing frustration and political unrest, with the nobility calling for an end to innovation. In response, ,oseph turned increasingly to censorship and his secret police. )ussia faced a peasant uprising, the Pugachev )ebellion, between 1##0 and 1##1, and 8atherine the reat never fully recovered from the fears of social and political upheaval that it raised. =nce the (rench )evolution bro&e out in 1#;$, the )ussian empress censored boo&s based on 'nlightenment

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Chapter 18

I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought "

ALE5AN+ER RA+ISHCHE* ATTAC6S RUSSIAN CENSORSHIP

3le!ander Radishche* $17BA.180@% (as an enlightened Russian lando(ner (ho P pu'lished + ,ourney from *aint Petersburg to 7oscow in 17A0, The 'oo- critici6ed many aspects o# Russian political and social li#e including the treatment o# ser#s2 * Q Shortly a#ter its pu'lication Catherine the "reat #earing the -ind o# unrest associ.JP/.ated (ith the <rench Re*olution might spread to Russia had Radishche* arrested, 1e (as tried and sentenced to death 'ut Catherine commuted the sentence to a period o# Si'erian e!ile, 3ll 'ut eighteen copies o# his 'oo- (ere destroyed, It (as not pu'lished in Russia again until 1A0?, These passages critici6ing censorship illustrate ho( a (riter #illed (ith the ideas o# the Enlightenment could 7uestion some o# the #undamental (ays in (hich an enlightened a'solutist ruler such as Catherine go*erned, . , . S / 1o( does Radishche* satiri6e censorship and the censors0 9hy does he contends iU Q that pu'lic opinion rather than the go*ernment (ill act as an ade7uate censor00 9ould (or- censored 'y pu'lic opinion 'e truly #ree #rom censorship0 9hy might Catherine the "reat or other enlightened a'solutist rulers ha*e #eared opinions li-e these0

TTaving recogni!ed the usefulness of printing, JT#"$e government has made it open to all, having further recogni!ed that control of thought might invalidate its good intention in granting freedom to set up presses, it turned over the censorship or inspection of printed wor&s to the Department of Public 7orals. Its duty in this matter canF only be the prohibition of the sale of ob-ectionU able worlds. "ut even this censorship is superfluous. + single stupid official in the Department of Public 7orals may do the greatest harm to enlightenment and may for years hold bac& the progress of reasonF he may prohibit a useful discovery, a new ideaL and may rob everyone of something great. 3ere is an e5ample on a small scale. + translation of a novel is brought to the Department of Public 7orals for its imprimatur. The translator, following the author in spea&ing of love, calls it "the tric&y god." The censor in uniform and in the fullness o- piety stri&es out the e5pression saying, "It is improper to call a divinity tric&y." 3e who does not understand should not interfere.... .et anyone print anything that enters his head. If anyone finds himself insulted in print, let him get his redress at law. I am not spea&ing in -est. Dords are not always deeds, thoughts are not crimes. These are the rules in the Instruction for a <ew 8ode of .aws. "ut an offense in words or in print is always an offense. /nder the law.no one is allowed to libel another, and everyone has the right to bring suit. "ut if one tells the about another, that cannot, according to theTNw, be considered a libel. Dhat harm can there be if boo&s are printed without a police stampE <ot only will there be no harm,- there will be an advantage, an advantage from the first to the last, from the least to the greatest, from the Tsar to the last citi!en---I will close with thisF the censorship of what is printed belongs properly to society, which gives the author a laurel wreath or uses hisf .sheets for wrapping paper. ,ust so, it is the public that gives its approval to a theatrical production, and not the director of the theater. *imilarly the 8ensor can give neither glory nor dishonor to the publication of a wor&. The curtain rises, and everyone eagerly watches the performance. If they li&e it, they applaudL if not, they stamp and hiss. .ea\"what is stupid to the -udgment of public opmibn, Pstupidity will find a thousand censors. The m=*rt vigilant policy cannot chec& worthless ideas as well as a disgusted public. They will be heard -ust onceL they will die, never to rise again. "ut once we have recogni!ed the uselessness of the censorship, or, rather, its harmfulness in the realm of &nowledge, we must also recogni!e the vast and boundless usefulness of freedom of the press.
From Ale$an%er 0a%ish*he'( 3 )ourney #rom Saint Peters'urg to ;osco( >Cambri%ge( +A: 8ar'ar% &ni'ersity Press( !F"@( pp. !: !. Copyright !F" by the Presi%ent an% Fellows of 8ar'ar% College. 0eprinte% by permission of 8ar'ar% &ni'ersity Press. As Guote% in Thomas 0iha( e%.( Readings in Russian Ci*ili6ation En% re'. e%.( -ol. E >Chi*ago: &ni'ersity of Chi*ago Press( !<!@( pp. E<!:E= .

;% Enlightenment and Re*olution thought and sent offensive authors into *iberian e5ile. 9*ee "+le5ander )adishchev +ttac&s )ussian 8ensorship.": "y the close of the century, fear of, and hostility to, change permeated the ruling classes of central and eastern 'urope. This reaction had begun before 1#;$, but the events in (rance bolstered and sustained it for almost half a century. Parado5ically, nowhere did the humanity and liberalism of the 'nlightenment encounter greater re-ection than in those states that had been governed by "enlightened" rulers.

)1 P.03P.CT)-.

The (riters o# the Enlightenment -no(n as philosophes, charted a ma:or ne( path in modern European and 9estern thought, They operated (ithin a print culture that made pu'lic opinion into a distinct cultural #orce, 3dmiring 8e(ton and the achie*ements o# physical science they tried to apply reason and the principles o# science to the cause o# social re#orm, They 'elie*ed also that passions and #eelings are essential parts o# human nature, Throughout their (ritings they championed reasona'le moderation in social li#e, ;ore than any other pre*ious group o# 9estern thin-ers they strongly opposed the authority o# the esta'lished churches and especially o# Roman Catholicism, ;ost o# them championed some #orm o# religious toleration, They also sought to achie*e a science o# society that could disco*er ho( to ma!imi6e human producti*ity and material happiness, The great dissenter among them (as Rousseau (ho also (ished to re#orm society 'ut in the name o# *irtue rather than material happiness, The political in#luence o# these (riters (ent in se*eral directions, The #ounding #athers o# the 3merican repu'lic loo-ed to them #or political guidance as did moderate li'eral re#ormers throughout Europe especially (ithin royal 'ureaucracies, The autocratic rulers o# eastern Europe consulted the philosophes in the hope that Enlightenment ideas might allo( them to rule more e##iciently, The re*olutionaries in <rance (ould honor them, This di*erse assortment o# #ollo(ers illustrates the di*erse character o# the philosophes themsel*es, It also sho(s that Enlightenment thought cannot 'e reduced to a single #ormula, Rather it should 'e seen as an outloo- that championed change and re#orm gi*ing central place to humans and their (el#are on earth rather than to "od and the herea#ter, )'>I'D I/'*TI=<* 1. 3ow did the 'nlightenment change basic Destern attitudes toward reform, faith, and reasonE Dhat were the ma-or formative influences on the philosophesE 3ow important were >oltaire and the Encyclopedia in the success of the 'nlightenmentE %. Dhy did the philosophes consider organi!ed religion to be their greatest enemyE Discuss the basic tenets of deism. 3ow did ,ewish writers contribute to 'nlightenment thin&ing about religionE Dhat are the similarities and differences between the 'nlightenment evaluation of Islam and its evaluations of 8hristianity and ,udaismE 0. Dhat were the attitudes of the philosophes toward womenE Dhat was )ousseauBs view of womenE Dhat were the separate spheres he imagined men and women occupyingE Dhat were 7ary DollstonecraftBs criticisms of )ousseauBs viewE 6. 8ompare the arguments of the mercantilists with those of +dam *mith in his boo& The 9ealth o# 8ations, 3ow did both sides view the earthBs resourcesE Dhy might *mith be regarded as an advocate of the consumerE 3ow did his theory of history wor& to the detriment of less economically advanced non-'uropean peoplesE 1. Discuss the political views of 7ontes?uieu and )ousseau. Das 7ontes?uieuBs view of 'ngland accurateE Das )ousseau a child of the 'nlightenment or its enemyE Dhich did )ousseau value more, the individual or societyE 4. Dere the enlightened monarchs true believers in the ideal of the philosophes, or was their enlightenment a mere veneerE Dere they really absolute in powerE Dhat motivated their reformsE Dhat does the partition of Poland indicate about the spirit of enlightened absolutismE */ '*T'D )'+DI< * D. ,.AL.3( #oseph IT, In the Shado( o# ;aria Theresa 17B1.1780 91$;#:. The best treatment in 'nglish of the early political life of ,oseph II. D. D. ,).1( The Calas 3##air2 Persecution Toleration and 1eresy in Eighteenth.Century Toulouse 91$42:. The standard treatment of the famous case. ). C8A0T).0( The Cultural Origins o# the <rench Re*olution 91$$1:. + wide-ranging discussion of the emergence of the public sphere and the role of boo&s and the boo& trade during the 'nlightenment.

Chapter 18 I The 3ge o# Enlightenment2 Eighteenth.Century Thought "? ). 6A01T#1( The <or'idden &est.Sellers o# Pre.Re*olutionary <rance > !!F@. +n e5ploration of what boo&s the (rench read and the efforts of the government to control the boo& trade. T. *. 6#C7( 9omen in the Encyclopedic2 3 Compendium > !"?@. +n analysis of the articles from the Encyclopedia that deal with women. ) GA2( The Enlightenment2 3n Interpretation E vols. > !<<( !<!@. + classic. ) GA2( Eoltaire+s Politics > !""@. +n important discussion. 6. G##6+A1( The Repu'lic o# =etters2 3 Cultural 1istory o# the <rench Enlightenment > !!D@. 8oncentrates on the role of salons. 7. 8. JAC#,( =i*ing the Enlightenment2 <reemasonry and Politics in Eighteenth.Century Eu. rope > !! @. The best treatment in 'nglish of (reemasonry. J. ". LA16.3( 9omen and the Pu'lic Sphere in the 3ge o# the <rench Re*olution > !""@. +n e5tended essay on the role of women in public life during the eighteenth century. J. ) L.6#11.( The Russian Empire and the 9orld 1700.1A17 > !!<@. +n e5ploration of the ma-or determinants in )ussian e5pansion from the eighteenth to the early twentieth century. 6. +AC+A8#1( Enemies o# the Enlightenment2 The <rench Counter.Enlightenment and the ;a-ing o# ;odernity >ECC @. + very fine e5ploration of (rench writers critical of the philosophes. I. 6. +A6A0)AGA( Russia in the 3ge o# Catherine the "reat > !" @. The best discussion in 'nglish. J. 7. +C+A11.03( 4eath and the Enlightenment2 Changing 3ttitudes to 4eath among Chris. tians and On'elie*ers in Eighteenth.Century <rance > !"E@. '5plores a wide spectrum of religious beliefs. 7. +. +.2.0( The Origins o# the ;odern #e(2 )e(ish Identity and European Culture in "ermany 17BA.18@B > !<=@. )emains a clear introduction. 6. #&T0A+( The Enlightenment > !!F@. +n e5cellent brief introduction. ) +. 0A8.( 6. CA00)T8.03( A16 7. +. +#C8.0( ;ontes7uieu+s Science o# Politics2 Essays on JThe Spirit o# the =a(sJ >ECC @. +n e5pansive collection of essays on 7ontes?uieu and his relationship to other ma-or thin&ers. ) 0)L.2( The Cam'ridge Companion to Rousseau >ECC @. '5cellent accessible essays by ma-or scholars. '. 0#T8C8)L6( Economic Sentiments2 3dam Smith Condorcet and the Enlightenment >ECC @. + sensitive account of *mithBs thought and its relationship to the social ?uestions of the day. ). ". 38.0( Church and Oni*ersity in the Scottish Enlightenment2 The ;oderate =iterati o# Edin'urgh > !"F@. '5amines the role of rehgious moderates in aiding the goals of the 'nlightenment. ,. <. 387LA0( ;en and Citi6ens a Study o# Rousseau+s Social Theory > !<!@. )emains a thoughtful and provocative overview of )ousseauBs political thought. *. ". 3+)T8( Spino6a =i'eralism and the Fuestion o# #e(ish Identity > !!=@. + brilliant wor&. D. 3PA6AF#0A( The Idea o# Progress in Eighteenth.Century &ritain > !!C@. + ma-or study that covers many aspects of the 'nlightenment in "ritain. ,. 3TA0#,)137)( )ean.)ac7ues Rousseau2 Transparency and O'struction > != @. + classic analysis of )ousseau. ). '. 3&LL)-A1( )ohn Toland and the 4eist Contro*ersy2 3 Study in 3daptation > !"E@. +n important and informative discussion. 7. *. T0#&)LL.( Se!ual Politics in the Enlightenment2 9omen 9riters Read Rousseau > !!=@. <arrates the very different reactions to )ousseau from his women readers. +. 7. 4)L3#1( 4iderot > !=E@. + splendid biography of the person behind the Encyclopedia and other ma-or 'nlightelnment publications. .. 4#LFF( In*enting Eastern Europe2 The ;ap o# Ci*ili6ation on the ;ind o# the Enlightenment > !!D@. + remar&able study of the manner in which 'nlightenment writers recast the understanding of this part of the 8ontinent. ,. 2#LT#1 >.6.@( The &lac-(ell Companion to the Enlightenment > !!F@. +n e5cellent collection of essays. D=8/7'<T* 8D-)=7 T8. .1L)G8T.1+.1T ". ,ohn .oc&eF 8hapter I from Essay Concerning 1uman Onderstanding ".E David 3umeF O# the 4ignity or ;eanness o# 1uman 8ature ".? 8harles 7ontes?uieuF "oo& D from The Spirit o# the =a(s ".D The Encyclopedic ".F + Doctor 8ritici!es 7idwives ".= +dam *mithF Division of .abor

A0T ; T8. 4.3T Joseph 4right( An E!periment on a &ird in the 3irXPump2 3*ien*e in the 6rawing 0oom
;6

he air-pump, devised by the pioneering 'nglish natural philosopher )obert "oyle in the 1412s,

stood for over a century as a ma-or symbol of the new e5perimental science championed by the )oyal *ociety of .ondon. The instrument permitted air to be pumped out of a spherical glass -ar to create a vacuum for the purpose of demonstrating the ?ualities of air and air pressure. The early air-pumps often functioned ?uite poorly because air would seep in through lea&y seals, invading the vacuum. "y the middle of the eighteenth century, however, many provincial 'nglish scientific societies possessed effective models such as the one portrayed in ,oseph DrightBs 3n E!periment on a &ird in the 3ir. Pump 91#4;:. Dright, who lived near Derby in an early industrial region of 'ngland, was a close friend of manufacturers and other persons interested in science, several of whom belonged to the .unar *ociety. In this dramatically lit painting, Dright portrays the e5cited interest of fashionable upper-class audiences in e5perimental science. +t the same time, though, he suggests genuine apprehension about the practice of science. Dright presents the central figure, who is operating the pump, as a natural philosopher about to demonstrate his superior &nowledge and scientific s&ill through an e5periment meant to indicate the necessity of air for the life of an animal. The e5perimenter holds the life and death of the bird in his hands as he moves to turn the switch that will create the vacuum. =ne figure observes the e5periment with a sense of ama!ementL another loo&s on with an e5pression of stoic acceptance. The man spea&ing to the young women, one of whom appears fearful and the other cautiously curious, may be e5plaining the need to place rationality above feelings in the pursuit of &nowledge. *acrificing the bird would advance the progress of science. In his depiction of women 9including one more interested in her male companion than in the e5periment:, Dright seems to be suggesting the commonly held view of the day that women may approach science and e5periments as observers, but may lac& the intellectual ?ualities re?uired for active participation in the e5perimental method. In art historical terms, Dright, an 'nglish artist, has ta&en a genre of painting &nown as the con*ersation piece and made a scientific e5periment the center of attention. Dright has also made another important substitution of a scientific sub-ect for a more traditional one. The painting dramatically contrasts light and dar&, a techni?ue originally devised to highlight elements in paintings of religious scenes. 3ere the drama of the light highlights a secular scientific e5periment on a natural sub-ect that, especially in 'ngland, many people believed might lead to a new understanding of the divine. Thus Dright could see the reverence once reserved for religious sub-ects now being evo&ed by a scientific one. 3is painting, though coming a century after the first air-pump e5periments, demonstrates the manner in which, by the mid-eighteenth century, e5perimental science had established its cultural presence within polite society and its ability to foster civil conversation in place of political and religious disputes. )ather than discussing the "ible or politics, this group is observing a scientific e5periment that will provide them with the opportunity for polite and presumably noncontroversial conversation, or at least conversation that will not lead to destructive ?uarrels. +lthough, as an artist, Dright e5plored the challenges of painting light, the setting of this e5periment would also seem to suggest that even in the eighteenth century he and others saw science as an uncertain and possibly temporary light surrounded by dar&ness and potential superstition. / 1o( does 9right+s +n '5periment on a "ird in the +ir-Pump sho( 'oth #ascination and apprehension a'out science0 9hat common perception a'out (omen in this age does the (or- illustrate0 3s an artistic con*ersation piece ho( does 9right+s painting challenge tradition0
3our*es: 6a'i% 8. 3olAin( Painting #or ;oney2 The Eisual 3its and the Pu'lic Sphere in Eighteenth.Century England >1ew 8a'en( CT: 2ale &ni'ersity Press( !!?@B 3te'en 3hapin an% 3imon 3*haffer( =e*iathan and the 3ir.Pump2 1o''es &oyle and the E!perimental =i#e >Prin*eton( 1J: Prin*eton &ni'ersity Press( !"F@.

;1

stii

Ci*ic e7uality (as one o # the hallmar-s o # the re*olutionary era, This #igure o # E7uality holds in her hand a copy o # the 4eclaration o # the Rights o # ;an and Citi6en, Corbis

T8. F0.1C8 0.-#L&T)#1

8 T1E SPRI8" O<

178A the long.#estering con#lict 'et(een the <rench monarchy and the

aristocracy erupted into a ne( political crisis, This dispute unli-e earlier ones 7uic-ly outgre( the issues o# its origins and produced the (ider disruption -no(n as the <rench Re*olution, &e#ore the turmoil settled small.to(n pro*incial la(yers and Parisian street orators e!ercised more in#luence o*er the #ate o# the Continent than did aristocrats royal ministers or monarchs, 3rmies commanded 'y people o# lo( 'irth and #illed 'y conscripted *illage youths de#eated #orces composed o# pro#essional soldiers led 'y o##icers o# no'le 'irth, The *ery e!istence o# the Roman Catholic #aith in <rance (as challenged, Politically and socially neither <rance nor Europe (ould e*er 'e the same a#ter these e*ents, T$e Crisis of "$e ,ren!$ onar!$% T$e Revo#u"ion of 23:; T$e Re!ons"ru!"ion of ,ran!e T$e End of "$e onar!$%- A Se!ond Revo#u"ion Europe a" War 0i"$ "$e Revo#u"ion T$e Rei)n of Terror T$e T$ermidorian Rea!"ion In Perspe!"ive "=

;; Enlightenment and Re*olution

7.2 T#P)C3

J The financial crisis that impelled the (rench monarchy to call the 'states eneral J The transformation of the 'states eneral into the <ational +ssembly, the Declaration of the )ights of 7an and 8iti!en, and the reconstruction of the political and ecclesiastical institutions of (rance J The second revolution, the end of the monarchy, and the turn to more radical reforms J The war between (rance and the rest of 'urope J The )eign of Terror, the Thermidorian )eaction, and the establishment of the Directory

The Crisis of the Fren*h +onar*hy

+lthough the (rench )evolution was a turning point in modern 'uropean history, it grew out of the tensions and problems that characteri!ed practically all late-eighteenth-century states. (rom the close of the *even HearsB Dar 91#40: until the opening of the (rench )evolution in 1#;$, the monarchies of both western and eastern 'urope found themselves lac&ing ade?uate revenues and had become ma-or agents of institutional and political change. In every case they provo&ed aristocratic, and sometimes popular, resistance and resentment. eorge 3I of "ritain fought for years with Parliament and lost the colonies of <orth +merica in the process. (rederic& .I of Prussia succeeded with his program of reform only because he accepted new aristocratic influence over the bureaucracy and the army. 8atherine .I of )ussia had to come to terms with )ussiaBs nobility. +t his death in 1#$2, ,oseph .I of +ustria, who did not consult with the nobility of his domains, left those domains in turmoil. In (rance also, the royal drive for ade?uate fiscal resources also led to aristocratic resistance. In (rance, however, neither the monarchy nor the aristocracy could control the social and political forces their ?uarrel unleashed. The (rench monarchy emerged from the *even HearsB Dar 91#14-1#40: defeated, deeply in debt, and unable thereafter to put its finances on a sound basis. (rench support of the +merican revolt against reat "ritain further deepened the financial difficulties of the government. =n the eve of the revolution, the interest and payments on the royal debt amounted to -ust over one-half of the entire budget. iven the economic vitality of the nation, the debt was neither overly large nor disproportionate to the debts of other 'uropean powers. The problem lay with the inability of the royal government to tap the wealth of the (rench nation through ta5es to service and repay the debt. Parado5ically, (rance was a rich nation with an impoverished government.

T8. +#1A0C82 3..73 1.4 TAL.3

The debt was symptomatic of the failure of the late-eighteenth-century (rench monarchy to come to terms with the resurgent social and political power of aristocratic institutions and, in particular, the parlements, (or twenty-five years after the *even HearsB Dar, there was a standoff between them as one royal minister after another attempted to devise new ta5 schemes that would tap the wealth of the nobility, only to be confronted by the opposition of both the Parlement of Paris and provincial parlements, "oth .ouis G> 9r. 1#11C 1##6: and .ouis G>I 9r. 1##6-1#$%: lac&ed the character and the resolution to carry the dispute to a successful conclusion. The moral and political corruption of their courts and the indecision of .ouis G>I meant the monarchy could not rally the (rench public to its side. In place of a consistent policy for dealing with the growing debt and aristocratic resistance to change, the monarchy hesitated, retreated, and even lied. In 1##2, .ouis G> appointed )ene 7aupeou 91#16-1#$%: as chancellor. The new minister was determined to brea& the parlements and increase ta5es on the nobility. 3e abolished the parlements and e5iled their members to different parts of the country. 3e then began an ambitious program to ma&e the administration more efficient. Dhat ultimately doomed 7aupeouBs policy was less the resistance of the nobility than the death of .ouis G> in 1##6. 3is successor, .ouis G>I, in an attempt to regain what he conceived to be popular support, restored all the parlements and confirmed their old powers. Throughout these and later disputes, the parlements which were completely dominated by the aristocracy, defended their cause in the language of liberty and reform against an intrusive and arbitrary monarchy. 3ere they drew on the ideas and arguments of many 'nlightenment writers, such as 7ontes?uieu and the physiocrats, discussed in 8hapter 1;. The (rench nobility was see&ing nothing less than to roll bac& more than a century of monarchical absolutism in order to give themselves a genuine role in government, which they had lost under the reign of .ouis GI> 9r. 1460-1#11:.

Chapter 1A I The Trench Re*olution ;$ The fiscal crisis gave them the lever of influence they had long lac&ed. (ranceBs successful intervention on behalf of the +merican colonists against the "ritish only worsened the financial problems of the monarchy. "y 1#;1, as a result of the aid to +merica, its debt was larger and its sources of revenues were unchanged. The new director-general of finances, ,ac?ues <ec&er 91#0%-1;26:, a *wiss ban&er, then produced a public report that suggested the situation was not so bad as had been feared. 3e argued that if the e5penditures for the +merican war were removed, the budget was in surplus. <ec&erBs report also revealed that a large portion of royal e5penditures went to pensions for aristocrats and other royal court favorites. This revelation angered court aristocratic circles, and <ec&er soon left office. 3is financial sleight of hand, nonetheless, made it more difficult for later government officials to claim a real need to raise new ta5es.

CAL#11.O3 0.F#0+ PLA1 A16 T8. A33.+,L2 #F 1#TA,L.3

The monarchy hobbled along until 1#;4. "y this time, 8harles +le5andre de 8alonne 91#06-1;2%: was the minister of finance. 8alonne proposed to encourage internal trade, to lower some ta5es, such as the ga'elle on salt, and to transform peasantsB services to money payments. 7ore important, 8alonne urged the introduction of a new land ta5 that would re?uire payments from all landowners regardless of their social status. If this ta5 had been imposed, the monarchy could have abandoned other indirect ta5es. The government would also have had less need to see& additional ta5es that re?uired approval from the aristocratically dominated parlements, 8alonne also intended to establish new local assemblies to approve land ta5esL in these assemblies the voting power would have depended on the amount of land owned rather than on the social status of the owner. +ll these proposals would have undermined both the political and the social power of the (rench aristocracy. 8alonneBs policies and the countryBs fiscal crisis made a new clash with the nobility unavoidable, and the monarchy had very little room to maneuver. The creditors were at the door,- the treasury was nearly empty. In 1#;#, 8alonne met with an +ssembly of <otables drawn from the upper ran&s of the aristocracy and the church to see& support for his plan. The assembly adamantly refused any such action,- rather, it demanded that the aristocracy be allowed a greater share in the direct government of the &ingdom. The notables called for the reappointment of <ec&er, who they believed had left the country in sound fiscal condition. (inally, they claimed they had no right to consent to new ta5es and that such a right was vested only in the medieval institution of the 'states eneral of (rance, which had not met since 1416. The notables believed that calling the 'states eneral, which had been traditionally organi!ed to allow aristocratic and church dominance, would produce a victory for the nobility over the monarchy.

6.A6L#C7 A16 T8. CALL)1G #F T8. .3TAT.3 G.1.0AL

+gain, .ouis G>I bac&ed off. 3e dismissed 8alonne and replaced him with 'tienne 8harles .omenie de "rienne 91#%#-1#$6:, archbishop of Toulouse and the chief opponent of 8alonne at the +ssembly of <otables. =nce in office, "rienne found, to his astonishment, that the situation was as bad as his predecessor had asserted. "rienne himself now sought to reform the land ta5. The Parlement of Paris, however, too& the new position that it lac&ed authority to authori!e the ta5 and said only the 'states eneral could do so. *hortly thereafter, "rienne appealed to the +ssembly of the 8lergy to approve a large subsidy to allow funding of that part of the debt then coming due for payment. The clergy, li&e the Parlement dominated by aristocrats, not only refused the subsidy, but also reduced its e5isting contribution, or don gratuit to the government. +s these unfruitful negotiations were ta&ing place at the center of political life, local aristocratic parlements and estates in the provinces were ma&ing their own demands. They wanted a restoration of the privileges they had en-oyed during the early seventeenth century, before )ichelieu and .ouis GI> had crushed their independence. 8onse?uently, in ,uly 1#;;, the &ing, through "rienne, agreed to convo&e the 'states eneral the ne5t year. "rienne resigned and <ec&er replaced him. The institutions of the aristocracyCand to a lesser degree, of the churchChad brought the (rench monarchy to its &nees. In the country of its origin, royal absolutism had been defeated and some &ind of political reform was at hand.

The 0e'olution of

The year 1#;$ proved to be one of the most remar&able in the history of both (rance and 'urope. The (rench aristocracy had forced .ouis G>I to call the 'states eneral into session. Het the aristocratsB triumph was brief. (rom the moment the monarch

="!

!C Enlightenment and Re*olution

This late.eighteenth.century cartoon satiri6es the <rench social structure, It sho(s a poor man in chains (ho represents the *ast ma:ority o# the population supporting an aristocrat a 'ishop and a no'le o# the ro'e, The aristocrat is claiming #eudal rights the 'ishop holds papers associating the church (ith religious persecution and clerical pri*ileges and the no'le o# the ro'e holds a document listing the rights o# the no'le.dominated parlements.
Corbis

summoned the 'states eneral, the political situation in (rance changed drastically. *ocial and political forces that neither the nobles nor the &ing could control were immediately unleashed. (rom that calling of the 'states eneral to the present, historians have heatedly debated the meaning of the event and the turmoil that followed over the ne5t decade. 7any historians long believed the calling and gathering of the 'states eneral unleashed a clash between the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy that had been building in the decades before 1#;$. 7ore recently, other historians have countered that the two groups actually had much in common by 1#;$ and that many members of both the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy resented and opposed the clumsy absolutism of the lateeighteenth-century monarchy. This second group of historians contends the fundamental issue of 1#;$ was the determination of various social groups to reorgani!e the (rench government to assure the future political influence of all forms of wealth. +s this complicated process was being wor&ed out, the argument goes, distrust arose between the aristocracy and increasingly radical middle-class leaders. The latter then turned to the tradespeople of Paris, building alliances with them to achieve their goals. That alliance radicali!ed the revolution. Dhen, in the mid-1#$2s, revolutionary policies and actions became too radical, aristocratic and middle-class leaders once again cooperated to reassert the security of all forms of private wealth and property. +ccording to this view, conflict did e5ist among different social groups during the years of the revolution, but its causes were immediate, not hidden in the depths of (rench economic and social development. =ther historians also loo& to the influence of immediate rather than long-term causes. They believe the faltering of the monarchy and the confusion following the calling, election, and organi!ation of the 'states eneral created a political vacuum. >arious leaders and social groups, often using the political vocabulary of the 'nlightenment, stepped into that

Chapter 1A

I The Trench Re*olution $1

9ell.meaning 'ut (ea- and *acillating =ouis YEI $r, 177B.17A@% stum'led #rom concession to con. cession until he #inally lost all po(er to sa*e his throne, Joseph 3iffre% 6uplessis( =ouis YEI, -ersailles(
Fran*e. Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

vacuum, challenging each other for dominance. The precedent for such public debate had been set during the years of conflict between the monarchy and the parlements when the latter had begun to challenge the former as the true representative of the nation. These debates and conflicts over the language, and hence values, of political life and activity had been made possible by the emergence of the new print culture with its reading public and numerous channels for the circulation of boo&s, pamphlets, and newspapers. 'merging from this culture were a large number of often-unemployed authors who were resentful of their situation and ready to use their s&ills to radicali!e the discussion. The result was a political debate wider than any before in 'uropean history. The events of the era represented a continuing effort to dominate public opinion about the future course of the nation. The (rench )evolution, according to this view, thus illustrates the character of a new political culture created by changes in the technology and distribution of print communication. Het another group of historians maintains that the events of 1#;$ through 1#$1 are only one chapter in a longer-term political reorgani!ation of (rance following the paralysis of monarchical government, a process that was not concluded until the establishment of the Third )epublic in the 1;#2s. +ccording to this interpretation, the core accomplishment of the revolution of the 1#$2s was to lay the foundations for a republic that could assure both individual liberty and the safety of property. It was not until the last ?uarter of the nineteenth century, however, that such a republic actually came into e5istence. To some e5tent, how convincing we find each of these interpretations depends on which years or even months of the revolution we e5amine. The various interpretations are not, in any case, always mutually e5clusive. 8ertainly, the wea&ness and ultimate collapse of the monarchy influenced events more than was once ac&nowledged. +ll sides did indeed ma&e use of the new formats and institutions of the print culture. Individual leaders shifted their positions and alliances ?uite fre?uently, sometimes out of principle, more often for political e5pediency. (urthermore, the actual political situation differed from city to city and from region to region. The controversial and divisive religious policies of the revolutionary government itself were often determining

$% Enlightenment and Re*olution factors in the attitudes that (rench citi!ens assumed toward the revolution. Dhat does seem clear is that much of the earlier consensusCthat the revolution arose almost entirely from conflict between the aristocracy and bourgeoisieCno longer stands, e5cept with many ?ualifications. The interpretive situation is now much more complicated, and a new consensus has yet to emerge.

T8. .3TAT.3 G.1.0AL ,.C#+.3 T8. 1AT)#1AL A33.+,L2

8onflict between the (rench monarchy and the aristocracy had caused the calling of the 'states eneral. "ut almost immediately after it was called, the three groups, or estates, represented within it clashed with each other. The (irst 'state was the clergy, the *econd 'state the nobility, and the Thir% .state theoretically everyone else in the &ingdom, although its representatives were drawn primarily from wealthy members of the commercial and professional middle classes. +ll the representatives in the 'states eneral were men. During the widespread public discussions preceding the meeting of the 'states eneral, representatives of the Third 'state made it clear they would not permit the monarchy and the aristocracy to decide the future of the nation. + comment by the +bbe *ieyes 91#6;-1;04: in a pamphlet published in 1#;$ captures the spirit of the Third 'stateBs representativesF "Dhat is the Third 'stateE 'verything. Dhat has it been in the political order up to the presentE <othing. Dhat does it as&E To become something." 1 9*ee "+bbe *ieyes Presents the 8ause of the Third 'state.": 6ebate o'er #rganization an% -oting "efore the 'states eneral gathered, a public debate over its proper organi!ation drew the lines of basic disagreement. The aristocracy made two moves to limit the influence of the Third 'state. (irst, they demanded an e?ual number of representatives for each estate. *econd, in *eptember 1#;;, the Parlement of Paris ruled that voting in the 'states eneral should be conducted by order rather than by headCthat is, each estate, or order, in the 'states eneral, rather than each member, should have one vote. This procedure would in all li&elihood have ensured the aristocratically dominated (irst and *econd 'states could always outvote the Third by a vote of two estates to one estate. "oth moves raised doubt about the aristocracyBs previously declared concern for (rench liberty and revealed it as a group hoping to 5uote% in Leo Gershoy( The <rench Re*olution and 8apoleon >1ew 2orA: Appleton:Century: Crofts( !<D@( p. CE. maintain its privileges no matter what government reforms might be enacted. *po&espeople for the Third 'state denounced the arrogant claims of the aristocracy. +lthough the aristocracy and the Third 'state shared many economic interests and goals, and some intermarriage had occurred throughout the country between nobles and the elite of the Third 'state, a fundamental social distance separated the members of the two orders. There were far more e5amples of enormous wealth and military e5perience among the nobility than among the Third 'stateL the latter also had e5perienced various forms of political and social discrimination from the nobility. The resistance of the nobility to voting by head simply confirmed the suspicions and resentments of the members of the Third 'state, who were overwhelmingly lawyers of substantial, but not enormous, economic means. 6oubling the Thir% The royal council eventually decided the cause of the monarchy and fiscal reform would best be served by a strengthening of the Third 'state. In December 1#;;, the council announced the Third 'state would elect twice as many representatives as either the nobles or the clergy. This so-called doubling of the Third 'state meant it could easily dominate the 'states eneral if voting proceeded by head rather than by order. It was correctly assumed that liberal nobles and clergy would support the Third 'state, confirming that, despite social differences, these groups shared important interests and reform goals. The method of voting had not yet been decided when the 'states eneral gathered at >ersailles in 7ay 1#;$. The Cahiers de 4oleances Dhen the representatives came to the royal palace, they brought with them cahiers de doleances or lists of grievances, registered by the local electors, to be presented to the &ing. 7any of these lists have survived and provide considerable information about the state of the country on the eve of the revolution. The documents recorded criticisms of government waste, indirect ta5es, church ta5es and corruption, and the hunting rights of the aristocracy. They included calls for periodic meetings of the 'states eneral, more e?uitable ta5es, more local control of administration, unified weights and measures to facilitate trade and commerce, and a free press. The overwhelming demand of the cahiers was for e?uality of rights among the &ingBs sub-ects. The Thir% .state Creates the 1ational Assembly These complaints and demands could not, however, be discussed until the ?uestions of organi!ation and

Chapter 1A

I The Trench Re*olution !?

ABBE SIE@ES PRESENTS THE CAUSE O, THE THIR+ ESTATE

3mong the many pamphlets that appeared a#ter the calling o# the Estates "eneral one o# the most #amous (as Dhat Is the Third 'stateE 'y 3''e Emmanuel Sieyes, In this pamphlet Sieyes contrasted the *ital contri'utions o# the Third Estate to the nation (ith its e!clusion #rom political and social pri*ilege, 1e presents an image o# the Third Estate in direct con#lict (ith the aristocracy rather than (ith the monarchy, On the 'asis o# this pamphlet many later o'ser*ers and historians argued that the re*olution (as a con#lict 'et(een the middle class and the aristocracy, The social structure o# <rance ho(e*er and the interactions o# those t(o groups (as much more complicated than Sieyes suggests, &oth groups (ere discontented (ith monarchical go*ernment, / 1o( does Siiyes de#ine the Third Estate0 9hat in:ustices does he claim it su##ers0 9hat are the complaints that he ma-es on 'ehal# o# the Third Estate against the aristocracy0 9hy does SieyKs ma-e a distinction 'et(een the court and the monarchy0

M y Oho, then would dare to say that the third es--' tate has not within itself all that is necessary to
constitute a complete nationE It is the strong and robust man whose one arm remains enchained. If the privileged order were abolished, the nation would be not something less but something more. Thus, what is the third estateE 'verythingL but an everything shac&led and oppressed.... The third estate must be understood to mean the mass of the citi!ens belonging to the common order. .egali!ed privilege in any form deviates from the common order, constitutes an e5ception to the common law, and, conse?uently, does not appertain to the third estate at all. De repeat, a common law and a common representation are what constitute =<' nation. It is only too true that one is <=T3I< in (rance when one has only the protection of the common lawL if one does not possess some privilege, one must resign oneself to enduring contempt, in-ury, and ve5ations of every sort.... "ut here we have to consider the order of the third estate less in its civil status than in its relation with the constitution. .et us e5amine its position in the 'states eneral. Dho have been its so-called representativesE The ennobled or those privileged for a period of years. These false deputies have not even been always freely elected by the people.... +dd to this appalling truth that, in one manner or another, all branches of the e5ecutive power also have fallen to the case which furnishes the 8hurch, the robe, and the *word. + sort of spirit of brotherhood causes the nobles to prefer themselves . . . to the rest of the nation. /surpation is complete,- in truth they reign.... @IAt is a great error to believe that (rance is sub-ect to a monarchical regime.... @IAt is the court, and not the monarch, that has reigned. It is the court that ma&es and unma&es, appoints and discharges ministers, creates and dispenses positions, etc. +nd what is the court if not the head of this immense aristocracy which overruns all parts of (ranceL which though its members attains all and everywhere does whatever is essential in all parts of the commonwealthE From John 8all 3tewart( 3 4ocumentary Sur*ey o# the <rench Re*olution >*@ !F . 0eprinte% by permission of Prenti*e ,all( )n*.( &pper 3a%%le 0i'er( 1J. voting had been decided. (rom the beginning, the Third 'state, whose members consisted largely of local officials, professionals, and other persons of property, refused to sit as a separate order as the &ing desired. (or several wee&s there was a standoff. Then, on ,une 1, the Third 'state invited the clergy and the nobles to -oin them in organi!ing a new legislative body. + few members of the lower clergy did so. =n ,une 1#, that body declared itself the <ational +ssembly, and on ,une 1$ by a narrow margin the *econd 'state voted to -oin the assembly. The Tennis 8ourt =ath =n ,une %2, finding themselves accidentally loc&ed out of their usual meeting

$6 Enlightenment and Re*olution

=ouis YEI presided o*er the opening o# the Estates "eneral (hich met at Eersailles on ;ay ? 178A, On this occasion each estateWclergy no'ility and commonersWsat as a separate group, Con*ocation o# the Estates "eneral at Eersailles, ,ibliotheGue 1ationale( Paris( Fran*e.
Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

place, the <ational +ssembly moved to a nearby tennis court. There its members too& an oath to continue to sit until they had given (rance a constitution. This was the famous Tennis 8ourt =ath. .ouis G>I unsuccessfully ordered the <ational +ssembly to desist from its actions. *hortly thereafter, however, a large group of clergy and a significant group of nobles -oined the assembly. =n ,une %#, the &ing capitulated and formally re?uested the (irst and *econd 'states to meet with the <ational +ssembly, where voting would occur by head rather than by order. The Third 'state because of the doubling of the third had twice as many members as either of the other estates that -oined them. 3ad nothing further occurred, the government of (rance would have been transformed. 3enceforth, the monarchy could govern only in cooperation with the <ational +ssembly, and the <ational +ssembly would not be a legislative body organi!ed according to privileged orders. The <ational +ssembly, which renamed itself the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly, was composed of a ma-ority of members drawn from all three orders, who shared liberal goals for the administrative, constitutional, and economic reform of the country. The revolution in (rance against government by privileged hereditary orders, however, soon e5tended beyond events occurring at >ersailles.

FALL #F T8. ,A3T)LL.

Two new forces soon intruded on the scene. The first was .ouis G>I himself, who attempted to regain the political initiative by mustering royal troops near >ersailles and Paris. It appeared that he might, following the advice of Iueen 7arie +ntoinette 91#11-1#$0:, his brothers, and the most conservative nobles, be contemplating disruption of the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly. =n ,uly 11, without consulting assembly leaders, .ouis abruptly dismissed <ec&er, his minister of finance. These actions mar&ed the beginning of a steady, but consistently poorly e5ecuted, royal attempt to

Chapter 1A

I The Trench Re*olution $1

This painting o# the Tennis Court Oath #une @0 is 'y )ac7ues.=ouis 4a*id $17B8.18@?%, In the center #oreground are mem'ers o# di##erent estates :oining hands in cooperation as e7uals, The presiding o##icer is )ean.Syl*ain &ailly soon to 'ecome mayor o# Paris, Ja*Gues:Louis 6a'i%( Oath o# the Tennis Cou6t,
Chateau( -ersailles( Fran*e. Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

undermine the assembly and halt the revolution. 7ost of the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly wished to establish some form of constitutional monarchy, but from the start .ouisBs refusal to cooperate thwarted that effort. The &ing fatally decided to throw his lot in with the conservative aristocracy against the emerging forces of reform drawn from across the social and political spectrum. The second new factor to impose itself on the events at >ersailles was the populace of Paris. The mustering of royal troops created an5iety in the city, where throughout the winter and spring of 1#;$ there had been several bread riots. The Parisians who had elected their representatives to the Third 'state had continued to meet after the elections. "y ,une they were organi!ing a citi!en militia and collecting arms. They regarded the dismissal of <ec&er as the opening of a royal offensive against the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly and the city. =n ,uly 16, somewhat more than eight hundred people, most of them small shop&eepers, tradespeople, artisans, and wage earners, marched to the "astille in search of weapons for the militia. This great fortress, with ten-foot-thic& walls, had once held political prisoners. Through miscalculations and ineptitude on the part of the governor of the fortress, the troops in the "astille fired into the crowd, &illing ninety-eight people and wounding many others. Thereafter, the crowd stormed the fortress and eventually gained entrance. They released the seven prisoners inside, none of whom was there for political reasons, and &illed several troops and the governor. =n ,uly 11, the militia of Paris, by then called the <ational uard, offered its command to the 7ar?uis de .afayette 91#1#-1;06:. This hero of the +merican )evolution gave the guard a new insigniaF the red and blue stripes of Paris, separated by the white stripe of the &ing. The emblem became the

$4 Enlightenment and Re*olution

On )uly 1B 178A cro(ds stormed the &astille a prison in Paris, This e*ent (hose only practical e##ect (as to #ree a #e( prisoners mar-ed the #irst time the populace o# Paris redirected the course o# the re*olution, Fran*e( "th *( Siege o# the &astille 1B )uly 178A, +us<e %e la -ille %e Paris( +usee Carna'alet( Paris(
Fran*e. Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

revolutionary coc-ade 9badge: and eventually the flag of revolutionary (rance. The attac& on the "astille mar&ed the first of many crucial :ournees days on which the populace of Paris redirected the course of the revolution. The fall of the fortress signaled the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly alone would not decide the political future of the nation. +s the news of the ta&ing of the "astille spread, similar disturbances too& place in provincial cities. + few days later, .ouis G>I again bowed to the force of events and personally visited Paris, where he wore the revolutionary coc&ade and recogni!ed the organi!ed electors as the legitimate government of the city. The &ing also recogni!ed the <ational uard. The citi!ens of Paris were, for the time being, satisfied. They also had established themselves as an independent political force with which other political groups might ally for their own purposes.

T8. JG0.AT F.A0J A16 T8. 1)G8T #F A&G&3T D

*imultaneous with the popular urban disturbances, a movement &nown as the " reat (ear" swept across much of the (rench countryside. )umors had spread that royal troops would be sent into the rural districts. The result was an intensification of the peasant disturbances that had begun during the spring. The reat (ear saw the burning of chateau5, the destruction of records and documents, and the refusal to pay feudal dues. The

Chapter 1A I The Trench Re*olution $# peasants were determined to ta&e possession of food supplies and land that they considered rightfully theirs. They were reclaiming rights and property they had lost through the aristocratic resurgence of the last ?uarter century, as well as venting their general anger against the in-ustices of rural life. =n the night of +ugust 6, 1#;$, aristocrats in the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly attempted to halt the spreading disorder in the countryside. "y pre-arrangement, several liberal nobles and clerics rose in the assembly and renounced their feudal rights, dues, and tithes. In a scene of great emotion, hunting and fishing rights, -udicial authority, and special e5emptions were surrendered. These nobles gave up what they had already lost and what they could not have regained without civil war in the rural areas. .ater they would also, in many cases, receive compensation for their losses. <onetheless, after the night of +ugust 6, all (rench citi!ens were sub-ect to the same and e?ual laws. That dramatic session of the assembly paved the way for the legal and social reconstruction of the nation. Dithout those renunciations, the constructive wor& of the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly would have been much more difficult. 9*ee "The <ational +ssembly Decrees 8ivic '?uality in (rance.": "oth the attac& on the "astille and the reat (ear displayed characteristics of the rural and urban riots that had occurred often in eighteenth-century (rance. .ouis G>I first thought the turmoil over the "astille was simply another bread riot. Indeed, the popular disturbances were only partly related to the events at >ersailles. + deep economic downturn had struc& (rance in 1#;# and continued into 1#;;. The harvests for both years had been poor, and food prices in 1#;$ were higher than at any time since 1#20. Dages had not &ept

THE NATIONAL ASSE BL@ +ECREES CI*IC E4UALIT@ IN ,RANCE f#i

These #amous decrees o# 3ugust B 178A in e##ect created ci*ic e7uahty in <rance, The special pri*ileges pre*iously possessed or controlled 'y the no'ility (ere remo*ed, 9hat institutions and pri*ileges are included in Jthe #eudal regimeJ0 1o( do these decrees recogni6e that the a'olition o# some pri*ileges and #ormer ta! arrange.;ents (ill re7uire ne( -inds o# ta!es and go*ernment #inancing to support rehgious educational and other institutions0 1. The <ational +ssembly completely abolishes the feudal regime. It decrees that, among the rights and dues . . . all those originating in real or personal serfdom, personal servitudeO and those which represent them, are abolished without indemnificationL all others are declared redeemable, and that the price and mode of redemption shall be fi5ed by the <ational +sseribly.... %. iThe e5clusive right to maintain pigeon-houses and dove-cotes is abolished.... 0. The ePchisive right to hunt and to maintain unenclosed warrens is li&ewise abolished.... 6. +ll manorial courts are suppressed without indemnification. 1. Tithes of every description and the dues F which have been substituted for them .,. .are abolished, on condition, however, ihat some other method be devised to provide ior the e5penses of divine worship, the support of the officiating clergy, the relief of thenoor, repairs and rebuilding of churches and parsonages, and for all establishments, seminaries, schoolsY academies, asylums, communities, and other institutionsL for the maintenance of which they are actually devoted---%& The sale of -udicial and municipal offices shall be suppressed forthwith---#. Pecuniary privileges, personal or real, in the payment of ta5es are abolished foreveU. tW : ;. +ll citi!ens, without distinction -of , . are eligible to any office or digiutyP wPPi&r i9i ecclesiastical, civil or military., X , /OC4O From FranA +aloy An%erson( e%. an% trans.( The Constitutions and Other Select 4ocuments Illustrati*e o# the 1istory o# <rance 178A.1A07 En%. e%.( re'. an% enl. >+inneapolis: 8.4. 4ilson( !C"@( pp. : ?.

$; Enlightenment and Re*olution up with the rise in prices. Throughout the winter of 1#;;-1#;$, an unusually cold one, many people suffered from hunger. *everal cities had e5perienced wage and food riots. These economic problems helped the revolution reach the vast proportions it did. The political, social, and economic grievances of many sections of the country became combined. The <ational 8onstituent +ssembly could loo& to the popular forces as a source of strength against the &ing and the conservative aristocrats. Dhen the various elements of the assembly later fell into ?uarrels among themselves, the resulting factions appealed for support to the politically sophisticated and wellorgani!ed shop&eeping and artisan classes. They, in turn, would demand a price for their cooperation.

T8. 6.CLA0AT)#1 #F T8. 0)G8T3 #F +A1 A16 C)T)9.1

In late +ugust 1#;$, the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly decided that before writing a new constitution, it should set forth a statement of broad political principles. =n +ugust %#, the assembly issued the Declaration of the )ights of 7an and 8iti!en. This declaration drew on much of the political language of the 'nlightenment and was also influenced by the Declaration of )ights adopted by >irginia in +merica in ,une 1##4. The (rench declaration proclaimed that all men were "born and remain free and e?ual in rights." The natural rights so proclaimed were "liberty, property, security, and resistance to oppression." overnments e5isted to protect those rights. +ll political sovereignty resided in the nation and its representatives. +ll citi!ens were to be e?ual before the law and were to be "e?ually admissible to all public dignities, offices, and employments, according to their capacity, and with no other distinction than that of their virtues and talents." There were to be due process of law and presumption of innocence until proof of guilt. (reedom of religion was affirmed. Ta5ation was to be apportioned e?ually according to capacity to pay. Property constituted "an inviolable and sacred right." % +lthough these statements were rather abstract, almost all of them were directed against specific abuses of the old aristocratic and absolutist regime. If any two principles of the future gov5uote% in Georges Lefeb're( The Coming o# the <rench Re*olution trans( by 0. 0. Palmer >Prin*eton( 1J: Prin*eton &ni'ersity Press( !<=@( pp. EE :EE?.
E

erned the declaration, they were civic e?uality and protection of property. The Declaration of the )ights of 7an and 8iti!en has often been considered the death certificate of the =ld )egime. It was not accidental that the Declaration of the )ights of 7an and 8iti!en specifically applied to men and not to women. +s discussed in 8hapter 1;, much of the political language of the 'nlightenment, and especially that associated with )ousseau, separated men and women into distinct gender spheres. +ccording to this view, which influenced the legislation of the revolutionary era, men were suited for citi!enship, women for motherhood and the domestic life. <onetheless, in the charged atmosphere of the summer of 1#;$, many politically active and informed (renchwomen hoped the guarantees of the declaration would be e5tended to them. Their issues of particular concern related to property, inheritance, family, and divorce. *ome people saw in the declaration a framewor& within which women might eventually en-oy the rights and protection of citi!enship.

T8. PA0)3)A1 4#+.1O3 +A0C8 #1 -.03A)LL.3

.ouis G>I stalled before ratifying both the declaration and the aristocratic renunciation of feudalism. The longer he hesitated, the stronger grew suspicions that he might again try to resort to the use of troops. 7oreover, bread continued to be scarce. =n =ctober 1, a crowd of as many as #,222 Parisian women armed with pi&es, guns, swords, and &nives marched to >ersailles demanding more bread. They milled about the palace, and many stayed the night. Intimidated by these Parisian women, the &ing agreed to sanction the decrees of the assembly. The ne5t day he and his family appeared on a balcony before the crowd. The Parisians, however, were deeply suspicious of the monarch and believed he must be &ept under the watchful eye of the people. They demanded that .ouis and his family return to Paris. The monarch had no real choice in the matter. =n =ctober 4, 1#;$, his carriage followed the crowd into the city, where he and his family settled in the palace of the Tuileries. The march of the women of Paris was the first e5ample of a popular insurrection employing the language of popular sovereignty directed against the monarch. The <ational 8onstituent +ssembly also soon moved into Paris. Thereafter, both Paris and (rance remained relatively stable and peaceful until the summer of 1#$%. 9*ee "+rt N

Chapter 1A

I The Trench Re*olution $$

The (omen o# Paris marched to Eersailles on Octo'er ? 178A, The #ollo(ing day the royal #amily (as #orced to return to Paris (ith them, 1ence#orth the <rench go*ernment (ould #unction under the constant threat o# mo' *iolence, Fran*e( "th *( To Eersailles to
Eersailles, The women of Paris going to -ersailles( = #*tober( Paris( Fran*e. Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2. ="!. +usee %e la -ille %e Paris( +usee Carna'alet(

the DestF ,ac?ues-.ouis David 8hampions )epublican >aluesOB p. 446.:

The 0e*onstru*tion of Fran*e

=nce established in Paris, the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly set about reorgani!ing (rance. In government, it pursued a policy of constitutional monarchyL in administration, rationalismL in economics, unregulated freedom,- and in religion, anticlerical-ism. Throughout its proceedings the assembly was determined to protect property in all its forms. In those policies, the aristocracy and the middle-class elite stood united. The assembly also sought to limit the impact on national life of the unpropertied elements of the nation and even of possessors of small amounts of property. +lthough championing civic e?uality before the law, the assembly spurned social e?uality and e5tensive democracy. In all these ways, the assembly charted a general course that, to a greater or lesser degree, nineteenthcentury liberals across 'urope would follow.

P#L)T)CAL 0.#0GA1)9AT)#1

The 8onstitution of 1#$1, the product of the <ational 8onstituent +ssemblyBs deliberations, established a constitutional monarchy. The ma-or political authority of the nation would be a unicameral .egislative +ssembly, in which all laws would originate. The monarch was allowed a suspensive veto that could delay, but not halt, legislation. Powers of war and peace were vested in the assembly. +ctive and Passive 8iti!ens The constitution provided for an elaborate system of indirect elections intended to thwart direct popular pressure on the government. The citi!ens of (rance were divided into active and passive categories. =nly active citi!ensCthat is, men paying annual ta5es e?ual to three days of local labor wagesCcould vote. They chose electors, who then in turn voted for the members of the legislature. +t the level of electors or members, still further property ?ualifications were imposed. =nly about 12,222 citi!ens of a

122 Enlightenment and Re*olution population of about %1 million could ?ualify as electors or members of the .egislative +ssembly. Domen could neither vote nor hold office. These constitutional arrangements effectively transferred political power from aristocratic wealth to all forms of propertied wealth in the nation. Political authority would no longer be achieved through hereditary privilege or through purchase of titles, but through the accumulation of land and commercial property. These new political arrangements based on property rather than birth recogni!ed the new comple5ities of (rench society that had developed over the past century and allowed more social and economic interests to have a voice in the governing of the nation. #lympe %e GougesOs 6e*laration of the 0ights of 4oman The laws that e5cluded women from both voting and holding office did not pass unnoticed. In 1#$1, =lympe de ouges 9d. 1#$0:, a butcherBs daughter from 7ontauban who became a ma-or revolutionary radical in Paris, composed a Declaration of the )ights of Doman, which she ironically addressed to Iueen 7arie +ntoinette. 7uch of the document reprinted the Declaration of the )ights of 7an and 8iti!en, adding the word (oman to the various original clauses. That strategy demanded that women be regarded as citi!ens and not merely as daughters, sisters, wives, and mothers of citi!ens. =lympe de ouges further outlined rights that would permit women to own property and re?uire men to recogni!e the paternity of their children. *he called for e?uality of the se5es in marriage and improved education for women. *he declared, "Domen, wa&e upL the tocsin of reason is being heard throughout the whole universe,- discover your rights."0 3er declaration illustrated how the simple listing of rights in the Declaration of the )ights of 7an and 8iti!en created a structure of universal civic e5pectations even for those it did not cover. The <ational +ssembly had established a set of values against which it could itself be measured. It provided criteria for liberty, and those to whom it had not e5tended full liberties could demand to &now why and could claim the revolution was incomplete until they en-oyed those freedoms. 6epartments 0epla*e Pro'in*es In reconstructing the local and -udicial administration, the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly applied the rational spirit of
5uote% in 3ara .. +elzer an% Leslie 4. 0abine( e%s.( Re'el 4aughters2 9omen and the <rench Re*olution >1ew 2orA: #$for% &ni'ersity Press( !!E@( p. "".
?

the 'nlightenment. It abolished the ancient (rench provinces, such as "urgundy and "rittany, and established in their place eighty-three departments, or depaitements of generally e?ual si!e named after rivers, mountains, and other geographical features. 9*ee 7ap 1$-1.: The departments in turn were subdivided into districts, cantons, and communes. 7ost local elections were also indirect. The departmental reconstruction proved to be a permanent achievement of the assembly. The departments e5ist to the present day. +ll the ancient -udicial courts, including the seigneurial courts and the parlements were also abolished. /niform courts with elected -udges and prosecutors were organi!ed in their place. Procedures were simplified, and the most degrading punishments were removed from the boo&s.

.C#1#+)C P#L)C2

In economic matters, the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly continued the policies formerly advocated by .ouis G>Ts reformist ministers. It suppressed the guilds and liberated the grain trade. The assembly established the metric system to provide the nation with uniform weights and measures. 9*ee "'ncountering the PastF The 7etric *ystem.": 4orAersO #rganizations Forbi%%en The new policies of economic freedom and uniformity disappointed both peasants and urban wor&ers caught in the cycle of inflation. "y decrees in 1#;$, the assembly placed the burden of proof on the peasants to rid themselves of the residual feudal dues for which compensation was to be paid. =n ,une 16, 1#$1, the assembly crushed the attempts of urban wor&ers to protect their wages by enacting the 8hapelier .aw, which forbade wor&ersB associations. Peasants and wor&ers were henceforth to be left to the freedom and mercy of the mar&etplace. 9*ee "The )evolutionary overnment (orbids Dor&ersB =rgani!ations.": Confis*ation of Chur*h Lan%s Dhile these various reforms were being put into effect, the original financial crisis that had occasioned the calling of the 'states eneral persisted. The assembly did not repudiate the royal debt, because it was owed to the ban&ers, the merchants, and the commercial traders of the Third 'state. The <ational 8onstituent +ssembly had suppressed many of the old, hated indirect ta5es and had substituted new land ta5es, but these proved insufficient. 7oreover, there were not enough officials to collect them. The continuing financial problem led the assembly to ta&e what

Chapter 1A +AP

I The Trench Re*olution

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uch about the era of the (rench )evolution seems alien to us today. =ne (rench regime

followed another in the midst of confusion, violence, and bloodshed. Het one thing that the revolutionaries did still touches the lives of virtually all 'uropeans living on the 8ontinent and if the /.*. 8ongress and the 'uropean 8ommunity have their way will touch everyone in the /nited *tates and the /nited Ringdom as well. In 1#$1, the (rench revolutionary government decreed a new standard for weights and measuresCthe metric system. Inspired by the rationalism of the eighteenth-century 'nlightenment, the metric system was intended to bring the order and simplicity of a system based on ten to the chaos of different weights and measures used in the various regions of prerevolu-tionary (rance. (or its adherents, the republic mar&ed the dawn of a new era in human history in which the triumph of science would replace the reign of superstition and obscurity. + new system of uniform weights and measures would also further one of the revolutionariesB political goalsF centrali!ation. Dith one set of weights and measures in use throughout the country, (rance would be closer to becoming a single "indivisible" republic.
)ean.&aptiste 4elam're $17BA.18@@% (as one o# the <rench astronomers (hose measurements o# the arch o# meridians #ormed the 'asis #or esta'lishing the length o# the meter, +ary .'ans Pi*ture Library Lt%.

+stronomy, which relied on the rational application of mathematics to measure the heavens, provided the basis for the new system of distance or length. +stronomers had devised methods for measuring the arch of meridiansCthe highest point reached by the sunCaround the earth. *o the revolutionary authorities too& the meridian in the latitude of Paris, which is 61_, as their standard for measuring the meter. The meter was to be one ten-millionth of one ?uarter of that meridian. +ll other measurements of length were then defined as decimal fractions or multiples of the meter. 1 centimeter 9cm: ` 12 millimeters 9mm: 1 decimeter 9dm: ` 12 centimeters 1 meter `122 centimeters 1 &ilometer 9&m: ` 1,222 meters The standard for measuring weights was the gram, which constituted the weight of a cube of pure water measuring 2.21 meter on each side. 'ach measure of weight was defined as a decimal fraction or multiple of a gram. *o a &ilogram is 1,222 grams. The metric system was soon adopted by wor&ing scientists, but in their everyday lives the population of (rance clung to their old and familiar weights and measures. 8hange, however "rational," did not come easily and was resisted. In 1;1%, <apoleon, bowing to popular sentiment, brought bac& the old units, but in 1;62, the (rench government reim-posed the metric system. Thereafter, rationalityC and convenienceCtriumphed, and by the close of the nineteenth century, the metric system was used throughout continental 'urope and had been introduced into .atin +merica. In the twentieth century it was adopted throughout +sia and +frica. Today, much of the 'nglish-spea&ing world remains the great e5ception. Despite efforts by scientists, engineers, and doctors, who all use the metric system in their wor&, many people in the /nited *tates and "ritain still prefer to measure in inches, feet, yards, and miles and to weigh in ounces and pounds. Perhaps without even being aware of it, they are re-ecting a system introduced during the (rench )evolution. / 9hy did the <rench re*olutionary go*ernment introduce the metric system0 9hy may it 'e said to re#lect the ideas o# the Enlightenment0 9hy has most o# the (orld come to accept this system0 12%

Chapter 1A
milJ

I The <rench Re*olution

C?

THE RE*OLUTIONAR@ GO*ERN ENT ,ORBI+S WOR6ERS> ORGANIQATIONS

The Chapelier =a( o# #une 1B 17A1 (as one o# the most important pieces o#re*olu. +. tionary legislation, It a'olished the -inds o# la'or organi6ations that had protected s-illed (or-ers under the Old Regime, The principles o# this legislation pre*ented e##ecti*e la'or organi6ation in <rance #or (ell o*er hal# a century, / 9hy are (or-ers+ organi6ations declared to 'e contrary to the principles o# =i'erty0 9hy (ere guilds seen as one o# the undesira'le elements o# the Old Regime0 9hat are the coerci*e po(ers that are to 'e 'rought to 'ear against (or-ers+organi6ations0 In light o# this legislation (hat courses o# actions (ere le#t open to (or-ers as they con#ronted the operation o# the mar-et economy0 1. *ince the abolition of all &inds of corporations of citi!ens of the same occupation and profession is one of the fundamental bases of the (rench
T

8onstitution, reestablishment thereof under any prete5t or form whatsoever is forbidden. %. 8iti!ens of the same occupation or profession, entrepreneurs, those who maintain open shop, wor&ers, and -ourneymen of any craft whatsoever may not, when they are together, name either president, secretaries, or trustees, &eep accounts, pass decrees or resolutions, or draft regulations concerning their alleged common interests.... 6. If, contrary to the principles of liberty and the 8onstitution, some citi!ens associated in the same professions, arts, and crafts hold deliberations or ma&e agreements among themselves tending to refuse by mutual consent or to grant only at a determined price the assistance of their industry or their labor, such deliberations and agreements, whether accompanied by oath or not, are declared unconstitutional, in contempt of liberty and the Declaration of the )ights of 7an, and noneffectiveL administrative and municipal bodies shall be re?uired so to declare them.... ;. +ll assemblies composed of artisans, wor&ers, -ourneymen, day laborers, or those incited by them against the free e5ercise of industry and -labor appertaining to every &ind of person and under all circumstances arranged by private contract, or against the action of police and the e5ecution of -udgments rendered in such connection, as well as against public bids and auctions of divers enterprises, shall be considered as seditious assemblies, and as such shall be dispersed by the depositories of the public force, upon legal re?uisitions made thereupon, and shall be punished according to all the rigor of the laws concerning authors, instigators, and leaders of the said assemblies, and all those who have committed assaults and acts of violence. From John 8all 3tewart( 3 4ocumentary Sur*ey o# the <rench Re*olution !F . 0eprinte% by permission of Prenti*e 8all( )n*.( &pper 3a%%le 0i'er( 1J. may well have been, for the future of (rench life and society, its most decisive action. The assembly decided to finance the debt by confiscating and then selling the land and property of the )oman 8atholic 8hurch in (rance. The results were further inflation, religious schism, and civil war. In effect, the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly had opened a new chapter in the relations of church and state in 'urope. The 3ssignats 3aving chosen to plunder the land of the church, the assembly authori!ed the issuance of assignats or government bonds, in December 1#;$. Their value was guaranteed by the revenue to be generated from the sale of church property. Initially, a limit was set on the ?uantity of assignats to be issued. The bonds, however, proved so acceptable to the public that they began to circulate as currency. The assembly decided to issue an ever-larger number of them to li?uidate the national debt and to create a large body of new property owners with a direct sta&e in the revolution. Dithin a few months, however, the value of the assignats began to fall and inflation increased, putting new stress on the lives of the urban poor.

126 Enlightenment and Re*olution

T8. C)-)L C#13T)T&T)#1 #F T8. CL.0G2

The confiscation of church lands re?uired an ecclesiastical reconstruction. In ,uly 1#$2, the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly issued the 8ivil 8onstitution of the 8lergy, which transformed the )oman 8atholic 8hurch in (rance into a branch of the secular state. This legislation reduced the number of bishoprics from 101 to ;0 and brought the borders of the dioceses into conformity with those of the new departments. It also provided for the election of priests and bishops, who henceforth became salaried employees of the state. The assembly consulted neither the pope nor the (rench clergy about these broad changes. The &ing approved the measure only with the greatest reluctance. The 8ivil 8onstitution of the 8lergy was the ma-or blunder of the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly. It created embittered relations between the (rench church and state that have persisted to the present day. The measure immediately created immense opposition within the (rench church, even from bishops who had long championed al-lican liberties over papal domination. In the face of this resistance, the assembly unwisely ruled that all clergy must ta&e an oath to support the 8ivil 8onstitution. =nly seven bishops and about half the clergy did so. In reprisal, the assembly designated those clergy who had not ta&en the oath as "refractory" and removed them from their clerical functions. (urther reaction was swift. )efractory priests attempted to celebrate mass. In (ebruary 1#$1, the pope condemned not only the 8ivil 8onstitution of the 8lergy, but also the Declaration of the )ights of 7an and 8iti!en. That condemnation mar&ed the opening of a )oman 8atholic offensive against liberalism and the revolution that continued throughout the nineteenth century. Dithin (rance itself, the popeBs action created a crisis of conscience and political loyalty for all sincere 8atholics. )eligious devotion and revolutionary loyalty became incompatible for many people. (rench citi!ens were divided between those who supported the constitutional priests and those who resorted to the refractory clergy. .ouis G>I and his family favored the refractory clergy.

C#&1T.00.-#L&T)#1A02 ACT)-)T2
The revolution had other enemies besides the pope and the devout 8atholics. +s it became clear that the old political and social order was undergoing fundamental and probably permanent change, many aristocrats left (rance. Rnown as the emigres, they settled in countries near the (rench border, where they sought to foment counterrevolution. +mong the most important of their number was the &ingBs younger brother, the count of +rtois 91#1#-1;04:. In the summer of 1#$1, his agents and the ?ueen persuaded .ouis G>I to attempt to flee the country. (light to >arennes =n the night of ,une %2, 1#$1, .ouis and his immediate family, disguised as servants, left Paris. They traveled as far as >arennes on their way to 7et!. +t >arennes the &ing was recogni!ed, and his flight was halted. =n ,une %6, a company of soldiers escorted the royal family bac& to Paris. The leaders of the <ational 8onstituent The assignats (ere go*ernment 'onds that (ere 'ac-ed 'y con#iscated church lands, They circulated
as money, 9hen the go*ernment printed too many o# them in#lation resulted and their *alue #ell,
,il%ar*hi' Preussis*her 7ulturbesitz

Chapter 1A I The Trench Re*olution 121 +ssembly, determined to save the constitutional monarchy, announced the &ing had been abducted from the capital. *uch a convenient public fiction could not cloa& the realities that the chief counterrevolutionary in (rance now sat on the throne and the constitutional monarchy might not last long. Declaration of Pillnit! Two months later, on +ugust %#, 1#$1, under pressure from a group of emigres, 'mperor .eopold II of +ustria, who was the brother of 7arie +ntoinette, and (rederic& Dilliam II 9r. 1#;4-1#$#:, the &ing of Prussia, issued the Declaration of Pillnit!. The two monarchs promised to intervene in (rance to protect the royal family and to preserve the monarchy if the other ma-or 'uropean powers agreed. This provision rendered the declaration meaningless because, at the time, reat "ritain would not have given its consent. The declaration was not, however, so read in (rance, where the revolutionaries saw the nation surrounded by aristocratic and monarchical foes. The <ational 8onstituent +ssembly drew to a close in *eptember 1#$1. Its tas& of reconstructing the government and the administration of (rance had been completed. =ne of its last acts was the passage of a measure that forbade any of its own members to sit in the .egislative +ssembly then being elected. The new body met on =ctober 1 and had to confront the immense problems that had emerged during the earlier part of the year. Dithin the .egislative +ssembly, ma-or political divisions also soon developed over the future course of the nation and the revolution. Those groups whose members had been assigned to passive citi!enship began to demand full political participation in the nation. "y the autumn of 1#$1, the government of (rance had been transformed into a constitutional monarchy. >irtually all the other administrative and religious structures of the nation had also
In )une 17A1 =ouis YEI and his #amily attempted to #lee <rance, They (ere recogni6ed in the to(n o# Earennes (here their #light (as halted and they (ere returned to Paris, This ended any realistic hope #or a constitutional monarchy, Corbis

124 Enlightenment and Re*olution been reformed. The situation both inside and outside (rance, however, remained unstable. .ouis G>I had reluctantly accepted the constitution on ,uly 16, 1#$2. (rench aristocrats resented their loss of position and plotted to overthrow the new order. In the west of (rance, peasants resisted the revolutionary changes, especially as they affected the church. In Paris, many groups of wor&ers believed the revolution had not gone far enough. (urthermore, during these same months, womenBs groups in Paris began to organi!e both to support the revolution and to demand a wider civic role and civic protection for women. )adical members of the new .egislative +ssembly also believed the revolution should go further. The ma-or foreign powers saw the (rench )evolution as dangerous to their own domestic political order. "y the spring of 1#$%, all these unstable elements had begun to overturn the first revolutionary settlement and led to a second series of revolutionary changes far more radical and democratically e5tensive than the first.

The .n% of the +onar*hy: A 3e*on% 0e'olution

.+.0G.1C. #F T8. JAC#,)13

The issues raised by the 8ivil 8onstitution of the 8lergy and .ouis G>Ts uncertain trustworthiness undermined the unity of the newly organi!ed nation. (actionalism plagued the .egislative +ssembly throughout its short life 91#$1-1#$%:. 'ver since the original gathering of the 'states eneral, deputies from the Third 'state had organi!ed themselves into clubs composed of politically li&e-minded persons. The most famous and best organi!ed of these clubs were the ,acobins, whose name derived from the fact that Dominican friars were called ,acobins and the group met in a Dominican monastery in Paris. The ,acobins had also established a networ& of local clubs throughout the provinces. They had been the most advanced political group in the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly and had pressed for a republic rather than a constitutional monarchy. Their political language and rhetoric were drawn from the most radical thought of the 'nlightenment. That thought and language became all the more effective because the events of 1#;$ to 1#$1 had destroyed the old political framewor&, and the old monarchical political vocabulary was less and less relevant. The political language and rhetoric of a republic filled that vacuum and for a time supplied the political values of the day. The events of the summer of 1#$1 led to the reassertion of demands for establishing a republic. In the .egislative +ssembly, a group of ,acobins &nown as the "irondists 9because many of them came from the department of the ironde: assumed leadership.6 They were determined to oppose the forces of counterrevolution. They passed one measure ordering the emigres to return or suffer loss of property and another re?uiring the refractory clergy to support the 8ivil 8onstitution or lose their state pensions. The &ing vetoed both acts. (urthermore, on +pril %2, 1#$%, the irondists led the .egislative +ssembly in declaring war on +ustria, by this time governed by (rancis .I 9r. 1#$%-1;01: and allied to Prussia. The irondists believed the pursuit of the war would preserve the revolution from domestic enemies and bring the most advanced revolutionaries to power. Parado5ically, .ouis G>I and other monarchists also favored the war. They thought the conflict would strengthen the e5ecutive power 9the monarchy:. The &ing also entertained the hope that foreign armies might defeat (rench forces and restore the =ld )egime. "oth sides were playing dangerously foolish politics. The war radicali!ed the revolution and led to what is usually called the second revolution, which overthrew the constitutional monarchy and established a republic. "oth the country and the revolution seemed in danger. +s early as 7arch 1#$1, a group of women led by Pauline .eon had petitioned the .egislative +ssembly for the right to bear arms and to fight for the protection of the revolution. 9*ee "(rench Domen Petition to "ear +rms.": 'ven before that, .eon had led an effort to allow women to serve in the <ational uard. These demands to serve, voiced in the universal language of citi!enship, illustrated how the words and rhetoric of the revolution could be used to challenge traditional social roles and the concept of separate social spheres for men and women. (urthermore, the pressure of war raised the possibility that the military needs of the nation could not be met if the ideal of separate spheres was honored. =nce the war began, some (renchwomen did enlist in the army and served with distinction. Initially, the war effort went ?uite poorly. In ,uly 1#$%, the du&e of "runswic&, commander of
OOThe Giron%ists are also freGuently *alle% the ,rissotins after Ja*Gues:Pierre ,rissot > =FD: =!?@( their *hief spoAesperson in early =!E.

Chapter 1A I The <rench Re*olution 12# the Prussian forces, issued a manifesto promising the destruction of Paris if harm came to the (rench royal family. This statement stiffened support for the war and increased the already significant distrust of the &ing. .ate in ,uly, under radical wor&ing-class pressure, the government of Paris passed from the elected council to a committee, or commune of representatives from the sections 9municipal wards: of the city. =n +ugust 12, 1#$%, a large Parisian crowd invaded the Tuileries palace and forced .ouis G>I and 7arie +ntoinette to ta&e refuge in the .egislative +ssembly itself. The crowd fought with the royal *wiss guards. Dhen .ouis was finally able to call off the troops, several hundred of them and many Parisian citi!ens lay dead. The monarchy itself was also a casualty of that melee. Thereafter the royal family was imprisoned in comfortable ?uarters, but the &ing was allowed to perform none of his political functions. The recently established constitutional monarchy no longer had a monarch.

T8. C#1-.1T)#1 A16 T8. 0#L. #F T8. 3A13:C&L#TT.3

The *eptember 7assacres 'arly in *eptember, the Parisian crowd again made its will felt. During the first wee& of the month, in what are &nown as the *eptember 7assacres, the Paris 8ommune summarily e5ecuted or murdered about 1,%22 people who were in the city -ails. 7any of these people were aristocrats or priests, but the ma-ority were simply common criminals. The crowd had assumed the prisoners were all counterrevolutionaries. The Paris 8ommune then compelled the .egislative +ssembly to call for the election by universal male suffrage of a new assembly to write a democratic constitution. That body, called the 8onvention after its +merican counterpart of 1#;#, met on *eptember %1, 1#$%. The previous day, the (rench army had halted the Prussian advance at the "attle of >almy in eastern (rance. The victory of democratic forces at home had been confirmed by victory on the battlefield. +s its first act, the 8onvention
On 3ugust 10 17A@ the S(iss "uards o# =ouis YEI #ought Parisians (ho attac-ed the Tuileries Palace, Se*eral hundred troops and citi6ens (ere -illed and =ouis YEI and his #amily (ere #orced to ta-e re#uge (ith the =egislati*e 3ssem'ly, 3#ter this e*ent the monarch *irtually ceased to in#luence e*ents in <rance, Jean 6uplessi:,ertau$( The Siege o# the
Palais des Tuileries 3ugust 10 17A@, Chateau( -ersailles( Fran*e. Girau%on/Art 0esour*e( 1.2.

12; Enlightenment and Re*olution

,RENCH WO EN PETITION TO BEAR AR S

The issue o# (omen ser*ing in the re*olutionary <rench military appeared early in the re*olution, In ;arch 17A@ Pauline =eon presented a petition to the 8ational 3ssem'ly on 'ehal# o# more than three hundred Parisian (omen as-ing the right to 'ear arms and train #or military ser*ice #or the re*olution, Similar re7uests (ere made during the ne!t t(o years, Some (omen did ser*e in the military 'ut in 17A> legislation speci#ically #or'ade (omen #rom participating in military ser*ice, The ground #or that re#usal (as the argument that (omen 'elonged in the domestic sphere and military ser*ice (ould lead them to a'andon #amily duties, J 8itoyenne is the #eminine #orm o# the <rench (ord #or citi6en, 1o( does this petition seeto challenge the concept o# citi6enship in the 4eclaration o# the Rights o# ;an and Citi6en0 1o( do these petitioners relate their demand to 'ear arms to their role as (omen in <rench society0 1o( do the petitioners relate their demands to the use o# all national resources against the enemies o# the re*olution0 T:at5iotic women come before you to claim the ,. right which any individual has to defend his life and liberty.... De are citoyennes @female citi!ensA, and we cannot be indifferent to the fate of the fatherland.. . Hes, entlemen, we need arms, and we come to as& your permission to procure them. 7ay our wea&ness be no obstacle, courage and intrepidity will supplant it, and the love of the fatherland and hatred of tyrants will allow us to brave all dangers with ease.... <o, entlemen, De will @use armsA only to defend ourselves the same as you, you cannot refuse us, and society cannot deny the right nature gives us, unless you pretend the Declaration of )ights does not apply to women and that they should let their throats be cut li&e lambs, without the right to defend themselves. (or can you believe the tyrants would spare usE... Dhy then not terrori!e aristocracy and tyranny with all the resources ofF eiyidi effort and the pure !eal, !eal which cold men can well call fanaticism and e5aggeration, but whic--h is declared (rance a republicCthat is, a nation governed by an elected assembly without a monarch. oals of the Sans.culottes The second revolution had been the wor& of ,acobins more radical than the irondists and of the people of Paris &nown as the sans.culottes, The name of this group means "without breeches" and derived from the long trousers that, as wor&ing people, they wore instead of aristocratic &nee breeches. The sans.culottes were shop&eepers, artisans, wage earners, and, in a few cases, factory wor&ers. The persistent food shortages and the revolutionary inflation had made their difficult lives even more burdensome. The politics of the =ld )egime had ignored them, and the policies of the <ational 8onstituent +ssembly had left them victims of unregulated economic liberty. The government, however, re?uired their labor and their lives if the war was to succeed. (rom the summer of 1#$% until the summer of 1#$6, their attitudes, desires, and ideals were the primary factors in the internal development of the revolution. 9*ee "+ Pamphleteer Describes a Sans.culotte,J% The sans.culottes generally &new what they wanted. The Parisian tradespeople and artisans sought immediate relief from food shortages and rising prices through price controls. They believed all people have a right to subsistence and profoundly resented most forms of social ine?uality. This attitude made them intensely hostile to the aristocracy and the original leaders of the revolution of 1#;$, who they believed simply wanted to share political power, social prestige, and economic security with the aristocracy. The sans.culottes+ hatred of ine?uality did not ta&e them so far as to demand the abolition of property. )ather, they advocated a community of small property owners who would also participate in the political nation. In politics they were antimonarchical, strongly republican, and suspicious even of representative government. They believed the people should

Chapter 1A I The <rench Re*olution 12$ only the natural result of a heart burning with love for the public wealE . . . If, for reasons we cannot guess, you refuse our -ust demands, these women you have raised to the ran&s of citoyennes by granting that to their husbands, these women who have sampled the promises of liberty, who have conceived the hope of placing free men in the world, and who have sworn to live free or dieCsuch women, I say, will never consent to concede the day to slavesL they will die first. They will uphold their oath, and a dagger aimed at their breasts will deliver them from the misfortunes of slaveryT They will die, regretting not life, but the uselessness of their deathL regretting moreover, not having been able to drench their hands in the impure blood of the enemies of the fatherland and to avenge some of their ownT "ut, entlemen, let us cast our eyes away from these cruel e5tremes. Dhatever the rages and plots of aristocrats, they will not succeed in van?uishing a whole people of united brothers armed to defend their rights. De also demand only the honor of sharing their e5haustion and glorious labors and of ma&ing tyrants see that women also have blood to shed for the service of the fatherland in daiiger. entlemen, here is what we hope to obtairi from your -ustice and e?uityF 1. Permission to procure pi&es, pistols, and sabres 9even mus&ets for those who are strong enough to use them:, within police regulations. %. Permission to assemble on festival days and *undays on the 8hamp de la (ederation, or in other suitable places, to practice.maneuvers with these arms. 0. Permission to name the former (rench uards to command us, always in conformityL with the rules which the mayorBs wisdom p-fiescrirPs fbr good order and public calm. _ TZ WRBUF -, .$*erpts from Leon( JPetition to the 1ational Assembly on 4omanOs 0ights to ,ear ArmsJ in 9omen in Re*olutionary Pans 178A.17A? e%ite% an% translate% by 6arline Gay Le'y( 8arriet ,ranson Applewhite( an% +ary 6urham Johnson. Copyright !=!( by the ,oar% of Trustees of the &ni'ersity of )llinois. &se% with permission of the &ni'ersity of )llinois Press. ma&e the decisions of government to as great an e5tent as possible. In Paris, where their influence was most important, the sans.culottes had gained their political e5perience in meetings of the Paris sections. Those gatherings e5emplified direct community democracy and were not unli&e a <ew 'ngland town meeting. The economic hardship of their lives made them impatient to see their demands met. The Policies of the ,acobins The goals of the sansculottes were not wholly compatible with those of the ,acobins, republicans who sought representative government. ,acobin hatred of the aristocracy and hereditary privilege did not e5tend to a general suspicion of wealth. "asically, the ,acobins favored an unregulated economy. (rom the time of .ouis G>Ts flight to >arennes onward, however, the more e5treme ,acobins began to cooperate with leaders of the Parisian sans.culottes and the Paris 8ommune for the overthrow of the monarchy. =nce the 8onvention began its deliberations, these ,acobins, &nown as the ;ountain because of their seats high in the assembly hall, wor&ed with the sans. culottes to carry the revolution forward and to win the war. This willingness to cooperate with the forces of the popular revolution separated the 7ountain from the irondists, who were also members of the ,acobin 8lub. '5ecution of .ouis G>I "y the spring of 1#$0, several issues had brought the 7ountain and its sans. culottes allies to domination of the 8onvention and the revolution. In December 1#$%, .ouis G>I was put on trial as mere "8iti!en 8apet," the family name of e5tremely distant forebears of the royal family. The irondists loo&ed for some way to spare his life, but the 7ountain defeated the effort. .ouis was convicted, by a very narrow ma-ority, of conspiring against the liberty of the people and the security of the state. 3e was condemned to death and was beheaded on ,anuary %1, 1#$0.

112 Enlightenment and Re*olution

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This document is a 17A> description o# a sans-culotte (ritten either 'y one or 'y a sympathi6er, It descri'es the sans-culotte as a hard(or-ing use#ul patriotic citi6en (ho 'ra*ely sacri#ices himsel# to the (ar e##ort, It contrasts those *irtues (ith the la6y and unproducti*e lu!ury o# the no'le and the personally sel#.interested plotP tings o# the politician, / 9hat social resentments appear in this description0 1o( could these resentments 'e used to create solidarity among the sans-culottes to de#end the re*olution0 1o( does this document relate ci*ic *irtue to (or-0 4o you see any relationship 'et(een the social *ie(s e!pressed in the document and the a'olition o# (or-ers+ organi6a. tions in a pre*ious document0 9here does this document suggest that the sansculotte may need to con#ront enemies o# the repu'lic0 M sans.culotte you roguesE 3e is someone who LJLalways goes on foot, who has no millions as you would all li&e to have, no chateau5, no valets to serve him, and who lives simply with his wife and children, if he has any, on a fourth or fifth story. 3e is useful, because he &nows how to wor& in the field, to forge iron, to use a saw, to use a file, to roof a house, to ma&e shoes, and to shed his last drop of blood for the safety of the )epublic. +nd because he wor&s, you are sure not to meet his person in the 8afe de 8hartres, or in the gaming houses where others conspire and gameL nor at the <ational theatre . . . nor in the literary clubsQQQQ In the evening he goes to his section, not powdered or perfumed, or smartly booted in the hope of catching the eye of the citi!enesses in the galleries, but ready to support good proposals with all his might, and to crush those which come from the abominable faction of politicians. (inally, a sans.culotte always, has his sabre sharp, to cut off the ears of all enemies of the )evolution,- sometimes he even goes out with his pi&eL but at the first sound of the drum he is ready to leave for the >endee, for the army of the +lps or for the army of the <orth.... From J0eply to an )mpertinent 5uestion: 4hat )s a 3ans:*ulotteXJ April =!?. 0eprinte% in 4alter +arAo' an% Albert 3oboul( e%s.( 4ie Sansculotten *on Paris an% republishe% trans( by Cli'e .msley in +erryn 4illiams( e%.( Re*olutions2 177?.18>0 >,altimore: Penguin ,ooAs( in asso*iation with the #pen &ni'ersity( != @( pp. CC: C . The ne5t month, the 8onvention declared war on reat "ritain, 3olland, and *pain. *oon thereafter, the Prussians renewed their offensive and drove the (rench out of "elgium. To ma&e matters worse, eneral Dumourie! 91#0$-1;%0:, the irondist victor of >almy, deserted to the enemy. (inally, in 7arch 1#$0, a royalist revolt led by aristocratic officers and priests erupted in the >endee in western (rance and roused much popular support. Thus the revolution found itself at war with most of 'urope and much of the (rench nation. The irondists had led the country into the war, but had proved themselves incapable either of winning it or of suppressing the enemies of the revolution at home. The 7ountain stood ready to ta&e up the tas&. 'very ma-or 'uropean power was now hostile to the revolution.

.urope at 4ar with the 0e'olution

Initially, the rest of 'urope had been ambivalent toward the revolutionary events in (rance. Those people who favored political reform regarded the revolution as wisely and rationally reorgani!ing a corrupt and inefficient government. The ma-or foreign governments thought that the revolution meant (rance would cease to be an important factor in 'uropean affairs for several years.

.6+&16 ,&07. ATTAC73 T8. 0.-#L&T)#1

In 1#$2, however, the Irish-born writer and "ritish statesman 'dmund "ur&e 91#%$-1#$$: argued a