"THE HISTORIANS' HISTORY OF THE WORLD."

Otago Witness, Issue 2817, 11 March 1908, Page 79

"THE HISTORIANS' HISTORY OF THE WORLD."

BEFORE AND AFTER THE REVOLUTION. When I saw before me these goodly volumes in which. The Times presents its history of the world I naturally looked to that which dealt with the period most familiar and interesting to me, and that, as my readers will guess, is the period which covers the modern history of France — at least from the beginning of the Revolution to the Fall of Napoleon. All I can say is that if the other volumes be written with the same eloquence, lucidity, and close- sequence as this volume, this new Encyclopaedia of History will be a very remarkable and most useful work. Familiar though I am with the period covered by this volume, I read the whole story all over again, every page, and, indeed, every line of it, and found in the freshness which was imparted to some ancient tale new reason for studying and trying to understand it. I can heartily recommend, therefore, this new series to my readers, and I begin by giving them some specimens by which they can judge for themselves, by describing something of the volume now before me. — Preparing the Way. — The volume begins with Louis XV and ends with Napoleon at St. Helena ; it is a vast space — not so much \n time as in event and transformation, and yet it is covered quite completely in this single volume of about 700 pages. I pass over the reign of Louis. XV to come to that of Louis XVI. Louis came to the throne in 1774. Here is a little passage which, in a curious way, shows how the future was preparing itself in its obscure and subtle way : I All the performers in the great drama, of which we are not yet come to the final act, wore now upon the scene. There were Louis XVI, aged 20 years, gentle and kind ; Louis XVIII, aged 19, clearer in intellect and more marked in character ; and Charles X, aged 17, stubborn and proud. . But there was another personage at that time alive who also the likeness of a kingly

crown had on : it was a little child of • seven months old, a grandson of the false and dissolute R-egent, who, after a long period of struggle and obscurity, emerges at the end of his career as Louis Philippe. Four Boyrbons and a Bonaparte were all prepa/ing for their parts in the year 1774 — three princes, a boy playing the hoop in the streets of Ajaccio, and a baby in arms. Of all these figures, if one were to judge by appearances, the most powerful, mqst prosperous, and best beloved was the firstnamed. The young King, indeed, ascended his throne with everything in his favour ; even his wife — destined afterwards to play so tragic and powerful a part in producing his downfall — was one of the elements of this popularity. After the death of the- awful creature who had just been laid in his dishonoured grave the spectacle of these two j'oung people, devoted to each other — the husband good, the wife dazzlingly beautiful, and both in life's fir&t youth — presented 4a4 a most welcome contrast. " They reminded the observers," says the "History," "of some of those charming fairy tales where royal shepherds and shepherdesses exchange the carss of power for the enjoyments of Arcadia." It is true that there was much discontent, and terribly strong cause for discontent; but, as the author cays : "If the enjoyments were a little expensive, and Arcadia a domain filled with princes and princesses, the interest of the story was only enhanced, and the voices of the real Corydons — the starving peasantry and angry men of the towns — were drowned in the shouts of jubilee. ' How came it that, finding such a splendid heritage of popularity Hk>efore_her, — Marie Antoinette — managed to fritter it all away? It began perhaps in finding the network of baise profligacy and base intrigue which surrounded the Court of Louis XV still allpowerful when she arrived in the French Court ; and these odious daughters of Louis did not help matters. But the chief fault lay with herself- " Marie Antoinette." says our historian, "had been brought up by her mother to be one day Queen of France, but she no sooner arrived at Versailles than she befljan to shake off ail that was troublesome " : She went on foot, dismissing her equerry, accompanied only by one or two ladies of the Court. She used to invite her brothers-in-law and sistere-in-law to dine and sup, and went to meals with them unceremoniously. She was. kind and considerate, and often delicate in lwr charities. Once a stag, wounded 'at the King's hunt, struck a poor peasant with his horns ; the Dauphiness ran to his help, took his wife into her carriage, caressed her, and gave her a pension. Marie Antoinette also encouraged and protected musicians. She knew Latin, German, Italian, and had soon mastered French. But her occasional acts of kindness and hier knowledge — great for one of her age — were not guided by common sense, and there was 6carcely a blunder she did not commit. At a time when the cry of, universal hunger and impending bankruptcy was rife — ignominiously from all France, from rural France and from urban France — she led the way in all kinds of extravagances ; indeed, her story reads like some extract from one of the vehement sermons or plays directed against our smart set of to-day. It was she, for instance, who started the fashion of wearing feathers "raised a foot and a-half high, and waving freely over the hend." The courtiers called these feathers " horse-ornaments." In February, . 1775. she exaggerated this fashion further, and invented "wonderful head-dresses representing English gardens, mountains, and forests." She visited various centres of amusement without the King, "who only cared for sport, lotto, and blindman's bluff played for 'wagers'"; and finally she anticipated one of the least desirable features of the modern smart eet, as will be seen from this extract from a letter of Mercy-Argen-teau in 1776 : The Queen was anxious to play at faro. She begged the King to permit them to summon the bankers of the gaming tables from Paris. The bankers arrived October 30, and dealt the cards all the night and morning of the 31st. The Queen remained until 5 o'clock in the morning. Her Majesty dealt all the evening and into the morning of November 1 (All Saints' Day) ; she- herself played until 3 o'clock in the morning. The harm was that such an evening, extending into the morning of so solemn a festival, should be so spent, and it caused much public gossip. — T**e~-Peasantry. — To realise all the tragic and perilous folly of these courses the author very skilfully puts in juxtaposition the famous passages in which La Bruyere describes the typical French peasantry of his period ; it was a century earlier than that at which we have arrived, but it was quite applicable to the people as they were when Marie Antoinette was gambling •• Wild animals of a certain species, male and female, are to be seen all over the country; they are dirty, livid, and sun-burned, and seem to be held in some manner to the eaTth, which they dig with invincible obstinacy. They have an articulate voice, and when they stand upright they reveal a human countenance ; they are, in fact, human beings. At night they retire into dens, and subsist entirely on black bread, water, and roots. Again, taking a big skip, I pause to recount an incident of tbe execution of the Queen which is new to me, though possibly I have read it before ; it shows what stern and inflexible resolutions lay underneath all the frivolity of this remarkable woman's early years : After the death sentence, several of those priests who had accepted what was practically the entire supremacy of the Republican Government over the clergy, to the exclusion of the authority of the Pope, offered her their priestly

ministry ; but she refused it, regarding them as schismatics. Her sister (sister-in-law?), however, had arranged with her secretly that as she passed along the Rue St. Honore on her way to the scaffold, a priest, presumably one who had not submitted toJiEe Government's requirements,- should be in-., a certain upper -window to give' her absolution' and^ blessing. He" was disguised, but she recognised- him- ."by- a sign he made, and she received, as she passed in the cart, the blessing and absolution which she sought. It wa6 -characteristic of the. perpetual misunderstanding between Marie Antoinette and the 'pedple She Was -called upon to govern that this act_of hers^-so sublime anct profound in its strength, and courage of conviction — was mistaken for something quite different. It was observed that" as she went to the scaffold her looks wandered, and it was supposed that what she was looking at were the new inscriptions and all the other changes in the physiognomy and costumes of Paris, that had been transformed from an ancient monarchy to a young Republic during the 16 months of her imprisonment ; , and the conclusion come to by the observers was that this was a further proof of her "' light and puerile attention." As ha& been seen, it had a very different reason. Finally, there was a curious and significant difference between her attitude on the scaffold and that of her husband, though they were equally brave in facing death. "Her features," says the historian, " did not wear, like those of her husband, the impression of the anticipated bliss of the just and the martyr, but that of disdain for mankind and a proper impatience to depart from life." Thus to the end they were French — and she was the "Austrian." One little item finally as to this hideous execution. On lie burial register in the Madeleine there is this entry : " For the coffin of the widow Capet seven francs." — The Dandies. — I turn to a lighter theme. When the fall of Robespierre and the creation of the Directory brought the Reign of Terror to an end there was an outburst of the silliest affectation, especially, of course, among the Dandies. The Dandies can be trusted to remain fatuous even in' the cataclysms of history. Here is one of the little bits of comic relief in the midst of the agony and blood of the Revolution. Republicanism had revived the old " classical fallacy," and it was the fashion to imitate in Paris the life of the ancient Greeks and Romans, as thus: They dined in the open, which is annoying when windy, and in the street, which, at all times is dirty. But as all dined together in Sparta, it was essential that all should dine together in Paris, with some rejoicings at evading the Spartan broth. . . Mcii were to be seen dressed in Grecian style, and gravely promenading in their white togas trimmed with red, and, halting [ by one of the Louvre gates, they would there discourse on important State 1 affaire. They never laughed, rested the ! chin in the hand, saluted with a shake of the head ; in short, strove their utmost to play the Roman. Even the young men did this to the best of their power. Napoleon's grim figure does not suggest anything comic, and yet there was plenty of comedy in the life of his Court, and in some respects he was himself the most comic figure. Everybody who has read Taine's wonderful description of the contrast between the Court of Louis XIV and that of Napoleon will be familiar with the picture in the passage I am about to quote ; but the pas&age is well worth requoting. There was not a mode or a gesture or a look even of Louis XlVs which was not studied, that was not elegant, self-restrained, and courteous. Even when he was angry the Roi-Soleil was 1 dignified. Once when he was charged with lyiftg by Lauzun — a very impertinent figure — he threw his cane out of the window lest he should forget .himself ; this was not Napoleon 's way. He is known to have caught one of his high officials by the chin and to have almost strangled him against the wall because of an incautious phrase which he did not like. And here is a general picture of his Court and its atmosphere : He neither knew how to enter a drawing room or how to leave it j how to sit down nor how to get up, still less which hand he should offer to a lady. At table he would snatch at the first dish within reach, often beginning his dinner with the sweets. While dressing he worried and ill-treated his valets, who assisted him, and if be did not happen to like the article of clothing handed to him, he kicked it away or threw it on the fire. He waa always assuming undignified attitudes, either poking the fir© with hia boots, or sitting astride a chair, his chin resting on the back, in order to converse more at his ease. One of his familiar tricks .vas pulling people's ears, without the least regard to their rank or sex, and Madame de Remusat's ear often enjoyed this distinction. And now comes — The Comic Side — to this story. The new aristocracy which Napoleon had created out of the rough material supplied to him by the Revolution and his successful wars, and the brand new Court which he had established on old lines, were extremely anxious to learn the manners and customs of that ancient Court and aristocracy which they had replaced, and Napoleon was quite as anxious as. any of them ; hence this is what happened : The tumult of the Revolution had swept away the old traditions of French politeness, with many other things. France — who could believe it? — no longer knew how to curtsey. Josephine's ladies, feeling themselves such novices, watched each other in consternation. Fortunately the Revolution had spared a famous dancing-master, Despreaux. Thie person, for whom

there had long been no employment, was besieged ; they fought for him ar the living code of manners, thej hastened to learn how to become gre'aS ladies. There also remained Madam* Ca-mptcn, firsts lady-in-waiting to Marie Antoinette ; . they questioned .her, and made—her relate in detail the intimate habit's of the 'Queen of France. . . : Th£y..~HLOt only, revived the old customs of -the Court of France; -they also im»ported new ones from foreign Courts. Ths "best of if was that Bonaparte himself "was the author of :he importation. He wa»*the-*r9b'*b-be i; b<!rred- : bj;.it.__ : 4t _ Munich he had seen all tbe Court pass Z bowing before the arid -Queen of Bavaria ; he also wished to have tlra solemn homage paid him. The march past at first delighted his imagination and flattered his pride ; but soon his impassive majesty tired him. He grew impatient, fidgeted in his seat; in short, he was bored, and it was only with great difficulty that they persuaded him to keep his seat until he had received ..he last reverences, which were hurried on by his order. And, finally, by way of contrast, her»\ is a picture of the Bourbons as they returned and took the place of all those mushroom dukes and princes and duchesses whom the Emperor had brought into being. It i 6 like some cold, bleak blast ftom an ancient tomb ; it is no wonder that it chilled France. The scene occurred when Louis XVIII arrived in Paris : The Parisians were somewhat disappointed when they saw in the person of their legitimate King an old man ol prodigious obesity, with heavy, brooding features and perpetual gout. Sitting by his side, however, was another resuscitation of the past which awoke more painftfl feelings still. It was the Duchess d'Angouleme, the unfortunate daughter of Louis XVI, and so long a. prisoner in the Temple. She now advanced with withered countenance along the same road, covered with arches of triumph; leading to the Tuileries, over which her mother had been so pitilessly dragged to the scaffold. No wonder France soon got v 6ick of them. — T. P., in T. P.'s Weekly.