Radical Translations

[amateurvoltaire]

Can you tell us more about St Just's military career? Particularly its beginning, which seems to often be skimmed over

Saint Just’s military career

Hi Anon, thanks for the question!

There’s actually not much to say about Saint-Just’s early military experience, because he didn’t really have any beyond his stint in the National Guard. No formal training, no time in the regular army, no combat before 1793. Unlike many of his generation, he didn’t volunteer and wasn’t especially drawn to soldiering. Politics was his focus.

His real impact came later, as a representative on mission. That part is well documented. So in this answer, I’ll touch briefly on the early years, then focus on what he did between 1793 and 1794, when he started telling generals and municipal administrators what to do.

Early Involvement and National Guard (Pre-1793)

Saint-Just’s only early association with the army was genealogical: his father had been a cavalry officer, served for 25 years, and received the cross of Saint-Louis (1). But Louis-Antoine himself was a child when his father died, and there’s no indication that he aspired to a military career. He received no structured military education, no training, and no commission in the royal army. His first direct command was when he was elected colonel of the Blérancourt National Guard (2) on 3 June 1790, an office he held for just over two years. 

It’s important to note that Saint-Just’s initial election as head of the local chapter of the National Guard had less to do with competence than with political alignment and useful ties. His sister was engaged to Emmanuel Decaisne, the new head of the Guard, and the local elite had recently been displaced by a more radical, anti-seigneurial faction of which Saint-Just was a part. The original 1790 leadership, tied to the notary Gellé and his conservative allies, was swept aside in a renewal of municipal posts on 31 January. Gellé was ousted; Louis Honoré (a close friend of Saint-Just) became mayor; Decaisne took over the Guard. Louise-Marie Saint-Just would marry Decaisne soon after. So yes… a touch of classic nepotism.

That’s not to say he wasn’t good at it. He was. 

This is how one of his principal modern biographers, Bernard Vinot, describes this period in his life:

“For over two years, Saint-Just trained in leading a force of two hundred men. He reflected deeply on authority and tested the rigours of discipline. He issued fines to several militiamen for negligence and ordered the penalties to be posted publicly ‘at the crossroads of Blérancourt’. Even then, he believed in the exemplary and educational value of punishment, enforcing the law as a means to shape public conscience.” (3)

Service in the Guard was voluntary, and as he didn’t hold any fixed occupation (read: he was very much unemployed) at the time, he had more than enough time to immerse himself in all sorts of local activities. He represented his district at the Fête de la Fédération (4) in Paris on 14 July 1790, where he swore fidelity to the Nation, the Law, and the King. In June 1791, he led a detachment of the National Guard to Soissons, sent there to receive King Louis XVI following his arrest at Varennes. By February 1792, after a reorganisation, he was only elected “commander in second” of the Blérancourt militia, with two local farmers chosen as joint commanders.

Entry into National Military Affairs (Early 1793)

On a national level, Saint-Just’s real involvement in military affairs began with his appointment to the War Committee (5) in October 1792. This marked a shift from his purely legislative role to one more directly concerned with the structure and functioning of the army, though it is worth noting that at this point he still had no practical military experience and only a few years of local National Guard involvement to his name.

A week after the King’s execution, on 28 January 1793, he delivered a significant speech to the Convention titled On the Attributions of the Minister of War. The focus was logistical: he denounced the War Ministry’s chronic disorganisation, the lack of oversight on military contracts, and the dangerously low reserves of arms and munitions. 

Then, on 11 February 1793, with England, Spain, and Holland now openly at war with France, Saint-Just returned to the rostrum to deliver his Speech on the Reorganisation of the Army. This was more ambitious. He advocated for the amalgamation of line troops and volunteers into demi-brigades, asserting that “the unity of the Republic requires the unity of the army”. He also defended the principle of electing officers by the rank and file, but with important caveats. He supported internal elections within each corps but insisted they be suspended near the front to avoid factionalism or mutiny. 

These two speeches, alongside his growing role in the War Committee, gave him a reputation, at least in Paris, as a rising authority on military affairs. In reality, the reputation far exceeded the experience. He had never seen a battlefield. He had never served in the regular army. His only direct command had been a few dozen militiamen in Blérancourt. What he did possess, however, was a sharp understanding of institutional dysfunction, a talent for problem-solving, and an extraordinary force of energy. That alone was enough to make him an exceptional representative on mission.

Missions as Representative on Mission (March 1793-June 1794)

Saint-Just’s most consequential military work came from his time as a representative of the people to the armies. This role, more than anything else, secured his reputation during his lifetime. According to Vinot, he spent 146 days on mission in Year II

What were representatives on mission?

Representatives on mission (représentants en mission) were deputies from the National Convention, sent out to the provinces and the front by the Committee of Public Safety, armed with near-absolute powers to enforce the will of the central government. That was the theory. In practice, what they enforced depended largely on temperament, literacy, and personal taste.

They were, all at once, administrators, political overseers, economic planners, and judges. The revolutionary government relied on them to project its presence across a country at war with itself and with Europe.

At heart, their task was surveillance. They embodied legislative power extending its reach over the executive. That meant watching the generals, policing local administrations, and leaning on public officials to ensure revolutionary decrees weren’t simply shelved or quietly ignored.

While they rarely held military command, their impact on the war was considerable. They were responsible for making sure soldiers had food, boots, weapons, and some vague reason to get shot at by the combined armies of Europe. They were expected to boost morale, stir up patriotism, and assess whether the army was on the verge of collapse.

They also carried judicial authority. They could set up ad hoc tribunals, launch investigations, and deliver summary justice. Arrests could be ordered on the spot. Generals, administrators, and ordinary civilians were all fair game. As usual, some handled this part of the job with more… enthusiasm than others.

Aisne and Ardennes (March 1793)

Saint-Just’s first mission as a representative of the people began on 9 March 1793, when the Convention appointed him, along with Jean-Louis Deville (6), to organise the levy of 300,000 men in the departments of Aisne and Ardennes. His powers included forming troop contingents, securing strongholds, requisitioning arms, clothing, and horses, holding local authorities to account, and arresting administrators deemed suspect. The mission lasted barely ten days. He returned to Paris to denounce War Minister Beurnonville (7), accusing him of treason due to the chaos in military administration.

This is how 19th century historian Jules Michelet chose to describe the episode: “Saint-Just appeared, not as a representative, but as a king, as a god. Armed with immense powers over two armies, five departments, he found himself even greater by his high and proud nature. In his writings, his words, in his smallest acts, everything burst forth the hero, the great man of the future” (8).

Cancelled Mission to the Eure and Somme (June 1793)

On 17 June 1793, the Committee of Public Safety appointed Saint-Just to a mission in the Eure and Somme departments, tasked with addressing the growing Federalist revolt (9)t in the region. He was to be accompanied by Robert Lindet (10). Before they could leave, however, a delegation from Normandy appeared before the Convention to declare the departments' loyalty to the Republic. The decree was promptly rescinded and the mission cancelled.

Aisne, Oise, and Somme (July 1793)

A second, very brief mission followed on 18 July 1793, when the Committee of Public Safety sent Saint-Just to the Aisne, Oise, and Somme departments “to fulfil an object of public interest.” What that object was remains unclear. In fact, whether the mission even took place is still debated by modern historians, since he was back in Paris by 30 July.  If he was away for twelve days, no one knows exactly what he did during them. He left no notes and made no speeches.Whatever it was, he was exceptionally discreet about it.

Army of the Rhine (October–December 1793)

In October 1793, Saint-Just and his colleague Philippe Le Bas (11) arrived in Alsace to find the situation close to collapse. The Army of the Rhine had been routed at Wissembourg, leaving the region exposed to invasion by Prussian and Austrian forces. Strasbourg, a city of strategic importance, now stood under threat. Politically, things were just as precarious. The local population, largely German-speaking, was regarded in Paris with suspicion. The region was seen as a breeding ground for federalism and royalist sympathies. The army itself was demoralised, ill-supplied, and disintegrating.

Saint-Just and Le Bas were sent to deal with the mess. And they did. Exceptionally well.

One of Saint-Just’s key achievements was restoring morale and a will to fight. He earned the troops’ respect by visiting forward positions, placing himself in danger, and refusing to hide behind rank. He also helped morale in simpler ways. By staring down a Prussian envoy and telling him: “The French Republic accepts nothing from its enemies and only answers with lead.” (12)

Still, Saint-Just knew that motivation was not enough. He and Le Bas launched an aggressive requisition campaign to resolve the army’s logistical crisis. Orders went out for food, fodder, horses, and 10,000 pairs of shoes, all to be taken from Strasbourg’s aristocrats. Two thousand beds were seized from the homes of the wealthy to serve the wounded.

The most dramatic measure was a forced loan of nine million livres(13), levied on Strasbourg’s richest citizens, payable within twenty-four hours in hard currency. The funds were carefully allocated: six million for army wages, one million for the city’s defences, and two million for the poor.

Discipline was imposed with equal energy. Saint-Just transformed the military tribunals into special revolutionary commissions, giving them sweeping powers over both soldiers and civilians. Juries were frequently removed in capital cases. Executions were carried out on the spot for disorder and insubordination. Officers were shot for striking their men or attending the theatre while the enemy attacked. Civil administrators were held personally accountable for failures in supply. He took steps to assist wounded soldiers and their families, showing a deep concern for their welfare.

In short, a pattern began to emerge. Saint-Just was the advocate of the common soldier, and the nightmare of any officer or bureaucrat who tried to exploit him.

Though he did not take direct command of operations, Saint-Just supervised, advised, and prodded generals such as Pichegru (14) and Hoche (15). He saw his role as seconding their efforts. That did not mean he always agreed with them. Hoche, for one, refused to share his offensive plans.

He was also quick to reward merit. Captains Donnadieu (16), Huet (17), and Augier(18)  were promoted, and Sergeant Jean-Adam Mayer(19) was elevated directly to general of division. 

In an attempt to bring the region into line politically, he also turned his attention, less commendably, to its cultural identity. Strasbourg’s German character was seen as a threat to national unity. In a bilingual proclamation, the citizens were invited to abandon German ways, since their hearts are French (20).

When Saint-Just and Le Bas left, they left behind something very different from what they had found. The Army of the Rhine had been transformed from a disaster waiting to happen into a functioning, disciplined force. Their intervention led directly to the relief of Landau and the expulsion of enemy troops from Alsace.

Army of the North (January–June 1794)

Saint-Just’s most famous missions were his last three, all conducted with the Army of the North. This was France's most critical front against the European coalition. It was here, more than anywhere else, that the fate of the nascent Republic would be decided. His repeated deployments from January to June 1794 served one overriding aim: to prepare and execute the spring offensive that would finally secure France’s borders.

Spoiler: like in Alsace, he did his job rather well.

First Northern Mission (22 January – 13 February 1794 / Pluviôse an II)

The first northern mission, undertaken with Philippe Le Bas, was an inspection and reorganisation tour after the dismissal of General Jourdan (21). Their task was to prepare the Army of the North for the spring campaign by reasserting discipline across key military zones. From 22 January to 13 February, they moved through strategic points including Lille, Maubeuge, and Bouchain.

They approached the mission with enthusiasm. In Saint-Pol, the entire local surveillance committee was imprisoned over a procedural lapse. At Maubeuge, they uncovered a plot to hand the town over to enemy forces. The response was swift. The Jacobin club was purged, and one conspirator, Antoine Rondeau, was tried by military commission and executed on the spot. 

This incident directly led to the very controversial decree of 16 Pluviôse (4 February), which ordered the arrest of all former nobles in the frontier departments of Pas-de-Calais, Nord, Somme, and Aisne. The language of the decree was sweeping. By “all former nobles”, it meant exactly that… women, children, distant cousins, the lot. Or at least that was how some local administrators chose to interpret it. 

Enforcement was so erratic that by 19 February, Carnot (22) and Saint-Just had to step in to clarify. They limited the decree to former nobles who had actually held titles. In short, the decree applied only to the head of the family and his heir. So if the Marquis of X had a first-born son styled as the Comte of X, the law would apply to them, not to the marquis’s wife, daughters, or younger children.

Ironically enough, the decree technically applied to Saint-Just himself. His father had been a squire. With his death, Saint-Just, as the only son, inherited the title. Which made him, technically, a former noble.

In Guise, Saint-Just issued another decree, this time aimed at what he called the “inertia of the administrators of the armies.” He imposed a new system of accountability with firm deadlines and explicit penalties for failure. The mission ended early when Saint-Just was recalled to Paris to help manage the political crisis posed by the Hébertists (23).

Second Northern Mission (29 April – 31 May 1794 / Floréal an II)

The second northern mission was launched after the fall of Landrecies, which had left morale collapsing and the army without clear direction. From 29 April to 31 May, Saint-Just and Le Bas were sent to the Sambre front to restore order and revive the campaign.

This time,  unlike in Alsace where he stepped on quite a few toes, Saint-Just adopted a more cooperative approach. He worked closely with fellow representatives on mission, including Pierre Mathurin Gillet, Adrien Duquesnoy, and Louis-Bernard Guyton. “I send my warm regards to my dear colleagues Gillet and Duquesnoy,” adds Saint-Just at the bottom of his letter to Jourdan, on the 27th of May.

Despite repeated failures to cross the Sambre, Saint-Just kept pushing. During one retreat, he ordered the destruction of the abbeys of Lobbes and Aulne to stop their supplies falling into enemy hands. The monks were not impressed.

The mission was cut short once more when he was urgently recalled to Paris at the end of May, following assassination attempts on Robespierre and Collot d’Herbois and the escalation of political tensions within the Convention.

Third Northern Mission (10 June – 28 June 1794 / Prairial–Messidor an II)

The third and final northern mission marked the decisive phase of the campaign. Saint-Just returned to the front alone, without Le Bas, to oversee the final military effort that would culminate in one of the Republic’s most significant victories. Arriving around 12 June, he remained with the army until its triumph at Fleurus on 26 June.

This time, his presence was not only welcomed, it was requested. Another colleague, Antoine Levasseur (24) wrote while he was in Paris: “Your presence, my dear colleague, is very necessary here. Come as soon as possible, and it will be a valuable reinforcement.” Later, on the 12th of June, Guyton and Gillet informed the Committee: “Our colleague Saint-Just arrived this evening. His presence greatly adds to the satisfaction we feel on this day.”

By this point, the army had been consolidated under the command of General Jourdan. In a pivotal letter dated 14 June, Saint-Just outlined the limits of the representatives’ role, stating: “We supervise the administrations, the obedience of the chiefs, the resources; you have only to conquer.” 

That did not mean he stayed behind in some cosy château sipping claret. On the contrary, he was at the vanguard. Saint-Just relentlessly drove the army forward, personally overseeing the siege of Charleroi. On 25 June, when the Austrian garrison offered to negotiate, he famously rejected the overture with the words: “It is not paper, but the place, that I demand of you.” (25) Charleroi surrendered unconditionally the same day.

The following morning, 26 June (8 Messidor), the French army won the Battle of Fleurus. This victory decisively secured Belgium for the Republic and stabilised its northern frontier. Having accomplished his mission, Saint-Just returned to Paris on 28 June, exactly one month before his death.

In conclusion

I hope this answered your question. Saint-Just didn’t come to war as a soldier, but as a political operator with extraordinary energy. He learned fast and acted decisively. He never held military command, but his role in shaping, disciplining, and motivating the armies of the Republic was real, measurable, and often extraordinary. One of his colleagues, writing from Strasbourg, probably put it best:

“It was high time that Saint-Just came to this wretched army […]. What a first-rate bastard this boy is. His collection of decrees will undoubtedly be one of the finest historical monuments of the Revolution.” (26)

Sources:

Vinot, Bernard. Saint-Just.

Ollivier, Albert. Saint-Just et la force des choses. Preface by André Malraux. Paris: Gallimard, 1954.

Palmer, R. R. Twelve Who Ruled: The Year of the Terror in the French Revolution.

Boulant, Antoine. Saint-Just: L'Archange de la Révolution.

Gross, Jean-Pierre. "SAINT-JUST EN MISSION LA NAISSANCE D'UN MYTHE." Annales historiques de la Révolution française 40, no. 191

Notes

Royal military order for commissioned officers, created by Louis XIV in 1693 to reward long or distinguished service. Abolished in 1792. In Saint-Just’s case, the order came with the title of squire. 

The National Guard was a citizen militia formed in July 1789 under Lafayette to keep order and defend the Revolution. Organised locally, wearing the tricolour cockade. Absorbed and restructured multiple times; effectively replaced by conscription armies during the Revolutionary Wars.

The original text in french from Saint-Just by Bernard Vinot: Pendant plus de deux ans, Saint-Just s'exerce au commandement de deux cents hommes, médite sur l'autorité, expérimente les exigences de la discipline. Il fait condamner plusieurs miliciens à des amendes pour négligence et afficher les sanctions « publiquement au carrefour de Blérancourt ». Il croit déjà à la valeur exemplaire et pédagogique de la répression et punit au nom de la loi pour créer une conscience publique. 

Fête de la Fédération was a national celebration on 14 July 1790 on the Champ‑de‑Mars, Paris, marking constitutional unity between king, nation, and citizens. Replicated across France.

The War Committee (Le Comité de la Guerre )of the National Convention, one of its standing committees overseeing military administration and legislation in 1792–1793. Day‑to‑day operations also ran through the Ministry of War; from July 1793 the Committee of Public Safety increasingly directed strategy.

Jean-Louis Deville (1757-1834) was a deputy of the Marne to the National Convention. Sent on mission several times in 1793, including with Saint‑Just to the Aisne and Ardennes on 9 March to accelerate the levée en masse. Later sat in the Council of Five Hundred and served as a forestry sub‑inspector under the Consulate. Exiled under the 12 January 1816 law against regicides who supported the Hundred Days.

Pierre Riel, marquis de Beurnonville (1752–1821).Career officer who backed 1789 reforms, then served as Minister of War from January to April 1793. After Dumouriez’s defeats, the Convention sent him to arrest the general; Dumouriez handed him to the Austrians on 3 April. Exchanged in late 1795. Commanded under the Directory, then served Napoleon as ambassador to Berlin and Madrid. Made a peer under the Restoration.

 The quote in french:  «Saint-Just apparut [à Strasbourg] non comme un représentant, mais comme un roi, comme un dieu. Armé de pouvoirs immenses sur deux armées, cinq départements, il se trouva plus grand encore par sa haute et fière nature. Dans ses écrits, ses paroles, dans ses moindres actes, en tout éclatait le héros, le grand homme d'avenir, mais nullement de la grandeur qui convient aux républiques. »

 Summer–autumn 1793 provincial uprisings against Paris, led by departmental authorities in cities such as Lyon, Marseille, Bordeaux, and Caen. Pro‑Convention in principle, but hostile to central control.

Robert Lindet (1746-1825) was a deputy to the Convention from the Eure, member of the Committee of Public Safety from September 1793, in charge mainly of subsistence and food supply.After Thermidor, sat in the Five Hundred, withdrew under the Empire, and reappeared briefly in 1815.

Philippe Le Bas was a deputy from the Pas-de-Calais, a close friend of Saint-Just, and the husband of Élisabeth Duplay, whose family rented a room to Robespierre. He died by suicide on 9 Thermidor Year II (27 July 1794).

In french: “ La République française ne reçoit de ses ennemis et ne leur envoie que du plomb”

9 million livres in 1793 is around 94 million euros today

Jean‑Charles Pichegru (1761–1804) former schoolmaster (one of his students was Napoleon) who ended up commanding the Army of the North. His 1794–1795 campaign broke the Austrians in Flanders and carried the army into the Dutch Republic. Drifted into royalist plotting by 1796–1797, was unmasked at the time of 18 Fructidor, deported to Cayenne, escaped, re‑entered France, and died in the Temple prison in 1804, officially by suicide.

Lazare Hoche (1768–1797) was the son of a Versailles stableman, enlisted at fifteen, promoted général de division by age twenty‑five by Saint-Just. Drove the Austrians from the Wissembourg lines in December 1793. Arrested in spring 1794, released after Thermidor. Sent to pacify the Vendée, where he mixed amnesties with reprisals and crushed the Chouannerie. Led the failed Irish expedition to Bantry Bay in 1796. Died of pneumonia at Wetzlar in 1797, aged twenty‑nine. Seen as a rival to Bonaparte.

Jean‑François Donnadieu (1762–1830) was a career officer who served in the Revolutionary armies on the Rhine and in Italy. Rose after Year II and became a general of division under the Empire. Known later for hard service in Catalonia and the siege of Barcelona, which overshadows his relatively obscure Year II record. He continued to serve under the Restoration.

Édouard Huet (1751–1819) Born and died at Bourges. Entered the Bourges National Guard on 8 July 1789, then was elected lieutenant‑colonel of the 2nd Battalion of Volunteers of the Cher on 27 August 1792. Garrisoned at Bitche, he fought the Austrians on 17 November 1793, after which the Convention declared the battalion had “bien mérité de la patrie.” Promoted provisional général de brigade by the representatives on mission Saint‑Just and Le Bas on 29 November 1793. General Moreaux judged him a “zealous patriot” of “mediocre talent,” and he was réformé on 3 July 1794. Returned to service as chef de bataillon in the 29e demi‑brigade d’infanterie on 12 May 1796, then became capitaine de gendarmerie at Bourges on 3 March 1798. Retired on 1 November 1801. Died 26 July 1819.

Jean‑Baptiste Augier (1769–1819) son of a royal legal professor, he volunteered in July 1792 in the 1st Battalion of Volunteers of the Cher, promoted to captain a month later. Rose swiftly during the levée en masse and was made général de brigade on 21 January 1794, aged twenty‑five. Assigned to the Army of the Ardennes, where he took part in the siege of Bitche, was severely wounded by shellfire, and lost part of a limb. Réformé in June 1795. Continued to serve in garrison and administrative roles under the Directory and Empire, including command of Königsberg in 1812. Elected député of the Cher to the Corps législatif in 1813. Made baron under the Restoration. Died in Bourges on 3 September 1819.

Jean-Adam Mayer- born in Bergzabern (in what is now Germany). Entered service in 1768 with the Swiss Guards. Later became mayor of Bergzabern. In the Revolution, appointed chef de bataillon by mission representatives in the Army of the Rhine under Saint‑Just and Le Bas. Promoted général de brigade 28 January 1794, then général de division 5 May 1794 with the Army of the Ardennes. On 7 August took command of the right wing of the Army of Sambre‑et‑Meuse. Briefly commanded Valenciennes. Removed from active duty in August 1794. 

The proclamation was issued in Strasbourg on 25 Brumaire an II (15 November 1793) « Les citoyennes de Strasbourg sont invitées de quitter les modes allemandes puisque leurs cœurs sont français... »

Jean‑Baptiste Jourdan (1762–1833): rose from sergeant to commander of the Army of the North. His victory at Fleurus on 26 June 1794, secured Belgium for the Republic and stabilised the northern front. Later commanded the Army of Sambre‑et‑Meuse, became a Marshal in 1804, authored the 1798 conscription law that bears his name, and ended as a peer under the Restoration.

Lazare Carnot (1753–1823): Engineer, deputy, and the Committee of Public Safety’s most effective organiser from August 1793. He pushed mass levies, standardised formations, enforced merit promotion, and coordinated movements across fronts with a technician’s patience. After Thermidor he served in the Directory, fell in 1797, returned briefly under Napoleon, and finished in exile. 

Hébertists - political Faction clustered around Jacques‑René Hébert and his paper, Le Père Duchesne. Dominant in the Paris Commune and sections in late 1793, they pushed dechristianisation, price control maximalism, and permanent popular mobilisation. Their attempt to pressure the Convention failed; the leaders were arrested and guillotined in March 1794.

Antoine‑Charles‑Louis de Levasseur, dit Levasseur de la Sarthe (1764–1839) was a deputy for the Sarthe, Montagnard, and representative on mission to the western ports and armies. Energetic in purging Federalist authorities, stabilising naval supply, and forcing grain movements in 1793–1794. An engaged committee‑man on maritime questions, later fell with the radical left after Prairial Year III, survived, and published detailed memoirs that remain a valuable, but partisan source.

« Ce n'est pas du papier, mais la place que je vous demande »

From a letter from Gateau to Daubigny the 27 brumaire from Strasbourg : Il était temps que Saint-Just vînt auprès de cette malheureuse armée […]. Quel maître-bougre que ce garçon-là ! La collection de ses arrêtés sera sans contredit un des plus beaux monuments historiques de la Révolution (TN: "Maître-bougre" is a coarse term but not exactly an insult in this case. I translated it as "first-rate bastard" to preserve the tone: half-admiring, half-exasperated. )

[nigrit]

Really excellent post that everyone should read. If you could do a similar one on Dumouriez that would be fascinating. I was always very sceptical about him until I read the firsthand account of his late 1792 campaigns in Helen Maria Williams’ letters from France, including the first publication of his exasperated letters to the war minister Pache. Undermined on all sides after his victorious entry into Brabant, I now have a lot more sympathy for his predicament. No money, no supplies, officers replaced by political appointments, supply contracts torn up and renegotiated by Pache’s cronies at 4-6 times their original value with shoddy, subpar equipment etc. Enough to make anyone thoroughly disillusioned! Yes, he was terribly vain etc. but their constant fears of a new Cromwell, and Lafayette’s betrayal directly led to his own volteface against the clear corruption within the War ministry itself, and by extension the Jacobins now running the War committee, including Saint-Just (?). His excellent co-commander, Miranda, whose loyalty was never in doubt, almost lost his head as a result… in fact, I urge everyone to read John Hurford Stone’s eyewitness account in these Letters (Vol 3, 1793). Gripping stuff but completely absent from the current historiography… As for Stone, now there’s a forgotten player whose fascinating biography is crying out to be written. A radical entrepreneur whose brother was tried and acquitted for treason in England, and who made and lost several fortunes in France, surviving past Napoleon, despite multiple imprisonment and accusations of being a spy from both sides

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

If the Committee of Public Safety had executive powers, why did its members also sign arrest warrants, which should be a task of the Committee of General Security?

Looking at the decree founding the Committee of Public Safety, dated April 6 1793, we can see that it was at first expressly forbidden from issuing arrest warrants:

3. [The committee] is authorized to take, in urgent circumstances, general external and internal defense measures; and its decrees, signed by the majority of its deliberative members, which cannot be less than two thirds, will be executed without delay by the provisional executive council. It may in no case issue arrest warrants, except against its executing agents, with the responsibility of reporting without delay to the Convention.

According to J.M Thompson’s Robespierre (1935), it wasn’t until July 28 1793 the committee got the authority to issue arrest warrants. But Thompson doesn’t cite a source for this, and I also can’t find any such a permission being granted to the committee (along with an explanation as to why) during the Convention session of July 28 (Le Moniteur, number 211, page 900, and number 212, page 903-904).

This is basically where my research came to a halt. But you are right in that policing was meant to mainly be the responsibility of the Committee of General Security, so it’s clear an overlapping of some kind happened here. If anyone knows more, please share!

[nigrit]

Good question and good answer. Does Palmer have anything to say on the matter? It’s a legal anomaly that’s definitely worth pursuing

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

People being not all that thrilled during the festival of the supreme being compilation

It should not be believed that there was much incense for the god of the day. I heard many imprecations uttered loud enough to reach even the ears of the priest. It has been said that he could have taken advantage of that day to declare his sovereignty; this is not to be believed, discontent was everywhere, satisfaction and joy nowhere. It is much truer to say that his downfall was sworn in this triumphal procession: many made no secret of it, and if the interval was not the principal cause, at least the conspirators took advantage of it to increase their numbers and make people believe in the dictatorship. Moreover, the ceremony ended with an amphibological speech without force, without vigor, and Robespierre gained nothing from his supposed triumph but the hatred of some and the contempt of others, having been unable to give either character or dignity to such a lofty declaration. There were no more than eight people between Robespierre and me, I heard all the curses; they came from Thirion de Montaut, from Ruamps and especially from Lecointre de Versailles, who more than twenty times called Robespierre dictator! tyrant! and threatened to kill him. Notes historiques sur la Convention nationale, le Directoire, l'Empire et l'exil des votants (1893) by Marc-Antoine Baudot

On the day he had designated for his triumph (20 Prairial), I (Lecointre) was indignant at the applause that marked his presence; and I cried out that I despised him as much as I abhorred him, with a force of voice that the applause could not cover. I carried the expression of my hatred to his ears, every time the applause was renewed with affectation; he complained about it, saying, at the tribune of the Convention, on 8 Thermidor, that he had been insulted by a member; the day of the festival of the Supreme Being, and he demanded vengeance. Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal [sic] par neuf représentans du peuple contre Maximilien Robespierre, pour le poignarder en plein sénat: rapport et acte d'accusation dont la lecture devoit précéder dans la Convention cet acte de dévouement (1794) by Laurent Lecointre, p. 3.

Sure of having sown the seed, I (Fouché) had the courage to defy [Robespierre], on the 20th Prairial (June 8 1794), a day on which, actuated with the ridiculous idea of solemnly acknowledging the existence of the Supreme Being, he dared to proclaim himself both his will and agent, in presence of all the people assembled at the Tuileries. As he was ascending the steps of his lofty tribune, whence he was to proclaim his manifesto in favour of God, I predicted to him aloud (twenty of my colleagues heard it) that his fall was near. Memoirs of Fouché (1825) page 20.

On the day of the Festival of the Supreme Being, before the people, [Bourdon de l’Oise] allowed himself the most vulgar sarcasms and the most indecent declamations on this subject. He remarked, with wickedness, to the members of the Convention, the signs of interest which the public gave to the president, in order to draw atrocious inductions against him, in the sense of the enemies of the Republic. Robespierre in a note on Bourdon de l’Oise written somewhere after the passing of the law of 22 prairial.

On the Champ-de-Mars, when Babeuf, Bourdon and others said that Robespierre would perish by their hands, my husband said to me: “The homeland is lost!” Memoirs of Élisabeth Le Bas, cited in Le conventionnel Le Bas : d'après des documents inédits et les mémoires de sa veuve (1901) by Stéfane-Pol, page 136.

On the day of the beautiful feast of the Eternal, a shameful masquerade and sacrilegious farce, which must cover us all with shame and humiliation, I said to a deputy, seeing the amiable Robespierre at the head of the Senate, which he had used as decoration for his pantomimes: Do you see Robespierre? I give him six more weeks to live... Testament d'un électeur de Paris (1795) by Beffroy de Reigny, p. 142.

I attended this celebration, which was given in the Tuileries Gardens. A huge orchestra was set up at the foot of the Clock Pavilion, where the members of the Convention occupied the salons. Robespierre kept  his colleagues waiting for a long time, which greatly upset them. Souvenirs de M. Berryer, doyen des avocats de Paris (1839), volume 1, p. 222.

Among the members who would have thus come to insult [Robespierre] to the limit, Fréron, Lecointre and Bourdon d’Oise have been cited; one has even gone so far as to attribute these words to Lecointre: Robespierre, I like your festival, but I detest you. Only believe this with a grain of salt, and, if you want to know my way of thinking, don’t believe it at all. Robespierre was on this day at the height of his glory and power, and to defy him in the midst of his triumph would have demanded an audacity of which Lecointre, Bourdon d’Oise et Fréron, all three of whom I knew well, certainly weren’t capable. Souvenirs de la Terreur de 1788 à 1793 (1842) by Georges Duval, volume 4, p. 356-357.

[nigrit]

Bring back Camille!

Apologies if this has already done the rounds, but if not, here's a statue of Camille by Eugene Boverie, which was melted down by Vichy c.1941, and never replaced. Shame as I rather dig the dynamism here compared to many static statues. Perhaps a campaign to put it back in the Palais Royal where it belongs…?

[nigrit]

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Louise de Kéralio-Robert arguing women can’t play a role in politics while being a woman who plays a role in politics compilation

Women! Always women in everything that threatens France! […] Wherever we have seen women in public matters in France, everywhere we have seen them in drunkenness! (dans l’ivresse) Mercure national, 22 August 1790, cited in ”Le corps petit, mais l’âme grande”: Voicing a Woman’s Ambition in Louise de Kéralio (2019) by Vicki Mistacco, page 87.

[I defend] the continuation of the Salic Law among a people too masculine to expose twenty-four million men to ever entrusting this executive power, which emanates from them alone, into the hands of a woman. Journal d’État et du citoyen, 1 October 1789, cited in ”Le corps petit, mais l’âme grande”: Voicing a Woman’s Ambition in Louise de Kéralio (2019) by Vicki Mistacco, page 83.

Mademoiselle de Keralio is very satisfied by what [Monsieur Brissot de Warville] said today about the influence of women. It is very much part of Melle de Keralio’s principles that women should not make a great spectacle of themselves. […] A love of publicity is bad for modesty, from the loss of that comes a distaste for domestic work, and from idleness, principles are forgotten and from lack of morals arise all of public disorders. […] She would like it if one was forced to seek women inside their homes, their presence should be hard to obtain, and rare, offered as a favour. It is one of the regenerations of France and especially of Paris […], men will be busy from now on, and consequently less attentive to the frequent appearance of useless or frivolous objects. Women […] will resort to the peaceful and useful occupations that nature assigns to them; education will change, and in the next generation, we will have fewer of these little amphibious beings whose appearance so cruelly bothered Mademoiselle de Kéralio that she was often called a prude and a bigot (although she was neither one nor the other) […] when she […] sought in vain, the gentleness, the modesty, the pudeur, which she gothicly imagined which must be the share of a weak and timid sex. She is truly delighted that M. Brissot de Warvulle [sic] taught her a little lesson, and it will certainly not be her who makes it a crime. Letter dated October 10 1789 from de Kéralio to Brissot, cited in ”Le corps petit, mais l’âme grande”: Voicing a Woman’s Ambition in Louise de Kéralio (2019), page page 87. Mistacco speculates that the ”little lesson” Brissot gave Kéralio was him reprimanding her for having portrayed the women in the march to Versailles as ”heroines” in her journal a few days earlier.

I do not believe that women can ever have any active part in government, and I believe that the greatest good that the constitution can do to public morals is to keep them out of it forever. Women reign in despotic states, it is enough to say that they must be null in the administration of a free country. The more the austerity of republican mores will make them attentive inside their homes, the more it will render them incapable of knowing enough public men to direct a choice which must be the fruit of constant observation and consummate experience. I know in them the sagacity necessary to judge the best of things, but not the extent of genius which makes known the means of arriving there or the force of temperament which supports the necessary studies. I repeat it again, the more they will be what nature has made them, the less they will want to undertake something beyond their physical and moral strength. Content to teach their children the decrees of the assembly, they will aspire neither to make nor dictate them. Mercure national ou Journal d’État et du Citoyen, April 18 1790, in response to the pamphlet Le franc en vedette, ou, Le porte-voix de la vérité, sur le tocsin (1790) by Armand Joseph Guffroy, which briefly argued women should take part in administrative business. Cited in Louise de Kéralio-Robert, pionnière du républicanisme sexiste (2006) by Annie Geffroy. According to Louise Kéralio Robert, Feminism, Virtue and the Problem of Fanaticism (2021) by Karen Green (tysm! for sharing it with me @nigrit) this article is actually unsigned, and it would therefore be unfair to attribute its authorship to de Kéralio.

Gentlemen of the Social Circle, take care of morals; instead of attracting this crowd of idle and curious women in your footsteps, teach them to shut themselves up in their homes, to make themselves useful and pleasant to their husbands, to their fathers, to their brothers, to provide for and to raise their children there, to take care of their fortune there. Mercure national ou Journal d’État et du Citoyen, April 18 1790, cited in Louise de Kéralio-Robert, pionnière du républicanisme sexiste (2006) by Annie Geffroy.

That despotism, fanaticism, pride, avarice lavishing gold and promises, arm the hands of a multitude of men without confession, without family, without homeland, this we have often had examples of since the [beginning of] the revolution. But that a weak and timid sex, stripping away at the same time the two feelings which are most essential to its being: fear and pity, arms its feeble hands against its fellow citizens, its friends, its brothers, its defenders; that one see women assembled in a public square, calling men to fight, provoking some, inciting others, ordering murder and setting an example! [---] Once again, it is the corruption of morals which today produces the anti-civility of women, formerly noble. Well! how could they not fear to cross, at one point, the limits of their sex, they who have stripped all sense of modesty? How would they blush to add hypocrisy to so many even more shameful vices? Chaste women are timid, lost women are bold, daring, cruel. Adresse aux femmes de Monteauban par Mme Robert, ci-devant Melle de Kéralio (1790)

I thought that we could gain a considerable advantage from the addition of a few women to the inspectors appointed by the section. Their domestic duties, sacred duties, important to public order, prohibit them from all administrative functions, and I do not claim to take them out of their sphere because the best things out of place lose all their value. But the spirit of detail to which they are accustomed in their domestic care makes them suitable for the proposed inspection. What would escape the vast observations of a man, will strike them more quickly either in the visits, or in the examination of the details of the broth, and examining the meats; they will see the bakeries, the cellars, the farmyard, the gardening, the fruits, finally, they will go into those details to which they are accustomed at home, and which constitute the skill of a good housewife. Extrait des délibérations de la société fraternelle des deux sexes: séante aux jacobins du dimanche 4 décembre de l'an III par Louise Robert (1791) page 10.

[nigrit]

In the Crimes of Queens etc., didn’t she repeat/make up some pretty vile stuff about Marie-Antoinette’s ‘sex’ life etc.? I mean coming from someone who doesn’t think she’s a prude or a bigot but quite happy to sling mud about

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

I’ve never actually looked into les Crimes des reines de France since there appears to exist some doubt on whether Kéralio really is the author (Retour sur une attribution problématique: Louise de Kéralio et les Crimes des reines de France (2018). But I certainly wouldn’t hold her above doing something like that, like ”Chaste women are timid, lost women are bold, daring, cruel,” yeah, bc you seem so timid and not at all bold yourself, Louise.

I agree she’s truly a fascinating person, much more so than if she had been a full on women’s right activist. I can’t help but feel a tiny bit of satisfaction over the fact she was eventually forced to live as she preached, I wonder if she felt any regret over it considering she still wanted to openly publish that she’d retired to the private sphere as opposed to just letting the action speak for itself.

Also, Robert was boozy? 😯 Tell me more 😉🍷

[nigrit]

Good spot on that article, which seems well-argued and convincing enough to suggest that indeed, Madame Robert (Mlle Kéralio) was not the author of that scurrilous book/pamphlet.

However, in the interests of completeness, and following up on my promise, I though it worth sharing some of my ‘high-powered’ sources here to show how even the most respected scholars can continue to repeat stuff like this without any awareness, or, at the very least, framing as such, of its questionable origins.

1/ Witness 1.

Chantal Thomas (directeur in the CNRS), The Wicked Queen etc.

Excellent analysis of the degradation of Marie-Antoinette through print and image. Annoyingly, being French, it has no index (the horror, the horror!) so this took some time.

pp.58, 119 & 173 she calls it “a text bristling with stupidity and misogyny”.

This cited extract, however, could conceivably come from the pen of a prude (?):

“But can it be that Antoinette, surpassing all her like, has infected the court of France with a type of debauchery that has never held sway there? [i.e. lesbianism]… My quill fails me. Antoinette! If, in your criminal hands, the state’s gold has served to corrupt and seduce these miserable fools of women, to gangrene their hears, to trample underfoot that modesty which is the foremost virtue of heir sex, to transform them into vile animals, speak. Who… could be so impure as to hear your name without shuddering in horror?”

However, the fact that Thomas goes on to unquestioningly repeat the libel about the princesse de Lamballe having her sexual organs cut out and worn as a moustache puts paid to my faith in her due diligence over sources. I mean, even if you believe it, at least explain its somewhat questionable origins etc.

Moving on then, we have…

2/ Witness 2.

Crimes des reines etc. is not listed under Kéralio in Fortunée Briquet’s near-contemporary biographical compilation, Dictionnaire historique des Francaises connues par leurs écrits (1804).

3/ Witness 3.

However it is listed under Nicole Pellegrin’s article, "Une traductrice historienne. Louise de Kéralio-Robert etc.", in A la Croisée des langues (p.69): “On lui doit sans doute aussi un ouvrage controversé, marqué d’un républicanisme sexiste avéré etc.”

4/ Witness 4.

A biographical dictionary in the BnF (not sure which one) states, correctly, “One lui attribute parfois les Crimes des reines de France (1791, 1793, still being reprinted under her name in 1830!)

5/ Witness 5.

Me. Some random jottings from my notes. She was elected to the Arras Academie when its president was Robespierre. She belonged to the same society (Soc Fraternelle des deux sexes) as the activist ‘feminist’ Etta Palm d’Aelders.

On 18 April 1790, she writes in Le Mercure national et étranger, ou Journal politique de l’Europe that women should renounce their right to play a role in government, while suggesting the best way for them to cultivate public morals is for the Constitution to ban them from politics forever, and persuade them to stay at home and raise their children the right way! [see Anne Geffroy, p.40]. I repeat, she shared a platform in the same society as Etta Palm. The mind boggles!

Moving on now to Francois Robert – a boozy man?

Naturally, I now find no trace in my notes, only a weak palimpsest of memories in my mind, which cannot be cited according to the law of Chicago ref. Moreover, Wiki says he allowed women to be admitted to the Cordeliers after April 1791 putting him in opposition to his wife’s own beliefs (hmmm, curious!). So, m’lud, the case remains unproven.

However, in my defence, I may cite the following:

a/ his portrait! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre-Fran%C3%A7ois-Joseph_Robert. If 'twas ever a boozy man this be it (?!)

b/ after 1815, he fled to Belgium and became a liqueur merchant

c/ in Feb 1793, he became an army commissioner but was fired in September, following accusations of corruption (he had also earlier been Danton’s secretary!); he was then sent to Liege in 1795 to reestablish order in the city (he was Belgium) and became a supplier to the French armies (a position notoriously prone to corruption); maybe he supplied them with wine?!

d/ okay, I concede, the evidence is weak! I’m sure there’s some kind of arrest warrant out there, accusing him being corrupt or drunk, or both, but it will have to wait to be found, unless some intrepid tumblr with more time on their hands can track it down or get their hands on a biography of him or them. Interesting couple though and her pre-revolutionary life is spectacular, writing, translating and wheeling and dealing with publishers over producing mega-volume sets on women's history and literature. making and losing fortunes. A truly pioneering, and by today's definitions, feminist, entrepreneur. Inspired in large part by the encouragement of her father, an ex-military type and scholar.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Louise de Kéralio-Robert arguing women can’t play a role in politics while being a woman who plays a role in politics compilation

Women! Always women in everything that threatens France! […] Wherever we have seen women in public matters in France, everywhere we have seen them in drunkenness! (dans l’ivresse) Mercure national, 22 August 1790, cited in ”Le corps petit, mais l’âme grande”: Voicing a Woman’s Ambition in Louise de Kéralio (2019) by Vicki Mistacco, page 87.

[I defend] the continuation of the Salic Law among a people too masculine to expose twenty-four million men to ever entrusting this executive power, which emanates from them alone, into the hands of a woman. Journal d’État et du citoyen, 1 October 1789, cited in ”Le corps petit, mais l’âme grande”: Voicing a Woman’s Ambition in Louise de Kéralio (2019) by Vicki Mistacco, page 83.

Mademoiselle de Keralio is very satisfied by what [Monsieur Brissot de Warville] said today about the influence of women. It is very much part of Melle de Keralio’s principles that women should not make a great spectacle of themselves. […] A love of publicity is bad for modesty, from the loss of that comes a distaste for domestic work, and from idleness, principles are forgotten and from lack of morals arise all of public disorders. […] She would like it if one was forced to seek women inside their homes, their presence should be hard to obtain, and rare, offered as a favour. It is one of the regenerations of France and especially of Paris […], men will be busy from now on, and consequently less attentive to the frequent appearance of useless or frivolous objects. Women […] will resort to the peaceful and useful occupations that nature assigns to them; education will change, and in the next generation, we will have fewer of these little amphibious beings whose appearance so cruelly bothered Mademoiselle de Kéralio that she was often called a prude and a bigot (although she was neither one nor the other) […] when she […] sought in vain, the gentleness, the modesty, the pudeur, which she gothicly imagined which must be the share of a weak and timid sex. She is truly delighted that M. Brissot de Warvulle [sic] taught her a little lesson, and it will certainly not be her who makes it a crime. Letter dated October 10 1789 from de Kéralio to Brissot, cited in ”Le corps petit, mais l’âme grande”: Voicing a Woman’s Ambition in Louise de Kéralio (2019), page page 87. Mistacco speculates that the ”little lesson” Brissot gave Kéralio was him reprimanding her for having portrayed the women in the march to Versailles as ”heroines” in her journal a few days earlier.

I do not believe that women can ever have any active part in government, and I believe that the greatest good that the constitution can do to public morals is to keep them out of it forever. Women reign in despotic states, it is enough to say that they must be null in the administration of a free country. The more the austerity of republican mores will make them attentive inside their homes, the more it will render them incapable of knowing enough public men to direct a choice which must be the fruit of constant observation and consummate experience. I know in them the sagacity necessary to judge the best of things, but not the extent of genius which makes known the means of arriving there or the force of temperament which supports the necessary studies. I repeat it again, the more they will be what nature has made them, the less they will want to undertake something beyond their physical and moral strength. Content to teach their children the decrees of the assembly, they will aspire neither to make nor dictate them. Mercure national ou Journal d’État et du Citoyen, April 18 1790, in response to the pamphlet Le franc en vedette, ou, Le porte-voix de la vérité, sur le tocsin (1790) by Armand Joseph Guffroy, which briefly argued women should take part in administrative business. Cited in Louise de Kéralio-Robert, pionnière du républicanisme sexiste (2006) by Annie Geffroy. According to Louise Kéralio Robert, Feminism, Virtue and the Problem of Fanaticism (2021) by Karen Green (tysm! for sharing it with me @nigrit) this article is actually unsigned, and it would therefore be unfair to attribute its authorship to de Kéralio.

Gentlemen of the Social Circle, take care of morals; instead of attracting this crowd of idle and curious women in your footsteps, teach them to shut themselves up in their homes, to make themselves useful and pleasant to their husbands, to their fathers, to their brothers, to provide for and to raise their children there, to take care of their fortune there. Mercure national ou Journal d’État et du Citoyen, April 18 1790, cited in Louise de Kéralio-Robert, pionnière du républicanisme sexiste (2006) by Annie Geffroy.

That despotism, fanaticism, pride, avarice lavishing gold and promises, arm the hands of a multitude of men without confession, without family, without homeland, this we have often had examples of since the [beginning of] the revolution. But that a weak and timid sex, stripping away at the same time the two feelings which are most essential to its being: fear and pity, arms its feeble hands against its fellow citizens, its friends, its brothers, its defenders; that one see women assembled in a public square, calling men to fight, provoking some, inciting others, ordering murder and setting an example! [---] Once again, it is the corruption of morals which today produces the anti-civility of women, formerly noble. Well! how could they not fear to cross, at one point, the limits of their sex, they who have stripped all sense of modesty? How would they blush to add hypocrisy to so many even more shameful vices? Chaste women are timid, lost women are bold, daring, cruel. Adresse aux femmes de Monteauban par Mme Robert, ci-devant Melle de Kéralio (1790)

I thought that we could gain a considerable advantage from the addition of a few women to the inspectors appointed by the section. Their domestic duties, sacred duties, important to public order, prohibit them from all administrative functions, and I do not claim to take them out of their sphere because the best things out of place lose all their value. But the spirit of detail to which they are accustomed in their domestic care makes them suitable for the proposed inspection. What would escape the vast observations of a man, will strike them more quickly either in the visits, or in the examination of the details of the broth, and examining the meats; they will see the bakeries, the cellars, the farmyard, the gardening, the fruits, finally, they will go into those details to which they are accustomed at home, and which constitute the skill of a good housewife. Extrait des délibérations de la société fraternelle des deux sexes: séante aux jacobins du dimanche 4 décembre de l'an III par Louise Robert (1791) page 10.

[nigrit]

In the Crimes of Queens etc., didn’t she repeat/make up some pretty vile stuff about Marie-Antoinette’s ‘sex’ life etc.? I mean coming from someone who doesn’t think she’s a prude or a bigot but quite happy to sling mud about

[nigrit]

In the spirit of Halloween I present a Correspondance des vivants et des morts.

A spooky, if somewhat reactionary, post-Thermidor ghost story from 1794/95… part of a series of imagined encounters in the Underworld where the ghosts of the dead continue to haunt the living

Correspondance des vivans et des morts

Correspondance des vivans et des morts

[nigrit]

Could apply equally, and very effectively, to understanding the power dynamics of radical journalism during the French Revolution. That phrase about telling truth to power has become such a cliche nowadays.

[nigrit]

Not quite sure what to make of this study of the frev tumblr community, except that on first glance it seems a bit waffly! And provides few direct egs of what they’re trying to get at. But for those curious to see how their enthusiasm/activities/interventions are perceived, here’s a link. Thoughts?

[saint-jussy]

NOT ME AND @revolutionarywig GETTING A SHOUTOUT LMAOOOOOO

[nigrit]

But the real question is: who’s shaping contemporary French political discourse on tumblr? Has anyone got a hotline to the Élysée we should know about? ‘Where’s Macron?’ I hear you cry. Who’s Melenchon? Indeed! The Corbyn of yesteryear. How many fifth republicans dwell amongst us?! What would Max do…?

[amateurvoltaire]

I feel that one of the most overlooked aspects of studying the French Revolution is that, in 18th-century France, most people did not speak French. Yes, you read that correctly.

On 26 Prairial, Year II (14 June 1794), Abbé Henri Grégoire (1) stood before the Convention and delivered a report called The Report on the Necessity and Means of Annihilating Dialects and Universalising the Use of the French Language(2). This report, the culmination of a survey initiated four years earlier, sought to assess the state of languages in France. In 1790, Grégoire sent a 43-question survey to 49 informants across the departments, asking questions like: "Is the use of the French language universal in your area?" "Are one or more dialects spoken here?" and "What would be the religious and political impact of completely eradicating this dialect?"

The results were staggering. According to Grégoire's report:

“One can state without exaggeration that at least six million French people, especially in rural areas, do not know the national language; an equal number are more or less incapable of holding a sustained conversation; and, in the final analysis, those who speak it purely do not exceed three million; likely, even fewer write it correctly.” (3)

Considering that France’s population at the time was around 27 million, Grégoire’s assertion that 12 million people could barely hold a conversation in French is astonishing. This effectively meant that about 40% of the population couldn't communicate with the remaining 60%.

Now, it’s worth noting that Grégoire’s survey was heavily biased. His 49 informants (4) were educated men—clergy, lawyers, and doctors—likely sympathetic to his political views. Plus, the survey barely covered regions where dialects were close to standard French (the langue d’oïl areas) and focused heavily on the south and peripheral areas like Brittany, Flanders, and Alsace, where linguistic diversity was high.

Still, even if the numbers were inflated, the takeaway stands: a massive portion of France did not speak Standard French. “But surely,” you might ask, “they could understand each other somewhat, right? How different could those dialects really be?” Well, let’s put it this way: if Barère and Robespierre went to lunch and spoke in their regional dialects—Gascon and Picard, respectively—it wouldn’t be much of a conversation.

The linguistic make-up of France in 1790

The notion that barely anyone spoke French wasn’t new in the 1790s. The Ancien Régime had wrestled with it for centuries. The Ordinance of Villers-Cotterêts, issued in 1539, mandated the use of French in legal proceedings, banning Latin and various dialects. In the 17th and 18th centuries, numerous royal edicts enforced French in newly conquered provinces. The founding of the Académie Française in 1634 furthered this control, as the Académie aimed to standardise French, cementing its status as the kingdom's official language.

Despite these efforts, Grégoire tells us that 40% of the population could barely speak a word of French. So, if they didn’t speak French, what did they speak? Let’s take a look.

In 1790, the old provinces of the Ancien Régime were disbanded, and 83 departments named after mountains and rivers took their place. These 83 departments provide a good illustration of the incredibly diverse linguistic make-up of France.

Langue d’oïl dialects dominated the north and centre, spoken in 44 out of the 83 departments (53%). These included Picard, Norman, Champenois, Burgundian, and others—dialects sharing roots in Old French. In the south, however, the Occitan language group took over, with dialects like Languedocien, Provençal, Gascon, Limousin, and Auvergnat, making up 28 departments (34%).

Beyond these main groups, three departments in Brittany spoke Breton, a Celtic language (4%), while Alsatian and German dialects were prevalent along the eastern border (another 4%). Basque was spoken in Basses-Pyrénées, Catalan in Pyrénées-Orientales, and Corsican in the Corse department.

From a government’s perspective, this was a bit of a nightmare.

Why is linguistic diversity a governmental nightmare?

In one word: communication—or the lack of it. Try running a country when half of it doesn’t know what you’re saying.

Now, in more academic terms...

Standardising a language usually serves two main purposes: functional efficiency and national identity. Functional efficiency is self-evident. Just as with the adoption of the metric system, suppressing linguistic variation was supposed to make communication easier, reducing costly misunderstandings.

That being said, the Revolution, at first, tried to embrace linguistic diversity. After all, Standard French was, frankly, “the King’s French” and thus intrinsically elitist—available only to those who had the money to learn it. In January 1790, the deputy François-Joseph Bouchette proposed that the National Assembly publish decrees in every language spoken across France. His reasoning? “Thus, everyone will be free to read and write in the language they prefer.”

A lovely idea, but it didn’t last long. While they made some headway in translating important decrees, they soon realised that translating everything into every dialect was expensive. On top of that, finding translators for obscure dialects was its own nightmare. And so, the Republic’s brief flirtation with multilingualism was shut down rather unceremoniously.

Now, on to the more fascinating reason for linguistic standardisation: national identity.

Language and Nation

One of the major shifts during the French Revolution was in the concept of nationhood. Today, there are many ideas about what a nation is (personally, I lean towards Benedict Anderson’s definition of a nation as an “imagined community”), but definitions aside, what’s clear is that the Revolution brought a seismic change in the notion of French identity. Under the Ancien Régime, the French nation was defined as a collective that owed allegiance to the king: “One faith, one law, one king.” But after 1789, a nation became something you were meant to want to belong to. That was problematic.

Now, imagine being a peasant in the newly-created department of Vendée. (Hello, Jacques!) Between tending crops and trying to avoid trouble, Jacques hasn’t spent much time pondering his national identity. Vendéen? Well, that’s just a random name some guy in Paris gave his region. French? Unlikely—he has as much in common with Gascons as he does with the English. A subject of the King? He probably couldn’t name which king.

So, what’s left? Jacques is probably thinking about what is around him: family ties and language. It's no coincidence that the ‘brigands’ in the Vendée organised around their parishes— that’s where their identity lay.

The Revolutionary Government knew this. The monarchy had understood it too and managed to use Catholicism to legitimise their rule. The Republic didn't have such a luxury. As such, the revolutionary government found itself with the impossible task of convincing Jacques he was, in fact, French.

How to do that? Step one: ensure Jacques can actually understand them. How to accomplish that? Naturally, by teaching him.

Language Education during the Revolution

Under the Ancien Régime, education varied wildly by class, and literacy rates were abysmal. Most commoners received basic literacy from parish and Jesuit schools, while the wealthy enjoyed private tutors. In 1791, Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand (5) presented a report on education to the Constituent Assembly (6), remarking:

“A striking peculiarity of the state from which we have freed ourselves is undoubtedly that the national language, which daily extends its conquests beyond France’s borders, remains inaccessible to so many of its inhabitants." (7)

He then proposed a solution:

“Primary schools will end this inequality: the language of the Constitution and laws will be taught to all; this multitude of corrupt dialects, the last vestige of feudalism, will be compelled to disappear: circumstances demand it." (8)

A sensible plan in theory, and it garnered support from various Assembly members, Condorcet chief among them (which is always a good sign).

But, France went to war with most of Europe in 1792, making linguistic diversity both inconvenient and dangerous. Paranoia grew daily, and ensuring the government’s communications were understood by every citizen became essential. The reverse, ensuring they could understand every citizen, was equally pressing. Since education required time and money—two things the First Republic didn’t have—repression quickly became Plan B.

The War on Patois

This repression of regional languages was driven by more than abstract notions of nation-building; it was a matter of survival. After all, if Jacques the peasant didn’t see himself as French and wasn’t loyal to those shadowy figures in Paris, who would he turn to? The local lord, who spoke his dialect and whose land his family had worked for generations.

Faced with internal and external threats, the revolutionary government viewed linguistic unity as essential to the Republic’s survival. From 1793 onwards, language policy became increasingly repressive, targeting regional dialects as symbols of counter-revolution and federalist resistance. Bertrand Barère spearheaded this campaign, famously saying:

“Federalism and superstition speak Breton; emigration and hatred of the Republic speak German; counter-revolution speaks Italian, and fanaticism speaks Basque. Let us break these instruments of harm and error... Among a free people, the language must be one and the same for all.”

This, combined with Grégoire’s report, led to the Décret du 8 Pluviôse 1794, which mandated French-speaking teachers in every rural commune of departments where Breton, Italian, Basque, and German were the main languages.

Did it work? Hardly. The idea of linguistic standardisation through education was sound in principle, but France was broke, and schools cost money. Spoiler alert: France wouldn’t have a free, secular, and compulsory education system until the 1880s.

What it did accomplish, however, was two centuries of stigmatising patois and their speakers...

Notes

(1) Abbe Henri Grégoire was a French Catholic priest, revolutionary, and politician who championed linguistic and social reforms, notably advocating for the eradication of regional dialects to establish French as the national language during the French Revolution.

(2) "Sur la nécessité et les moyens d’anéantir les patois et d’universaliser l’usage de la langue francaise”

(3)On peut assurer sans exagération qu’au moins six millions de Français, sur-tout dans les campagnes, ignorent la langue nationale ; qu’un nombre égal est à-peu-près incapable de soutenir une conversation suivie ; qu’en dernier résultat, le nombre de ceux qui la parlent purement n’excède pas trois millions ; & probablement le nombre de ceux qui l’écrivent correctement est encore moindre.

(4) And, as someone who has done A LOT of statistics in my lifetime, 49 is not an appropriate sample size for a population of 27 million. At a confidence level of 95% and with a margin of error of 5%, he would need a sample size of 384 people. If he wanted to lower the margin of error at 3%, he would need 1,067. In this case, his margin of error is 14%.

That being said, this is a moot point anyway because the sampled population was not reflective of France, so the confidence level of the sample is much lower than 95%, which means the margin of error is much lower because we implicitly accept that his sample does not reflect the actual population.

(5) Yes. That Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand. It’s always him. He’s everywhere. If he hadn’t died in 1838, he’d probably still be part of Macron’s cabinet. Honestly, he’s probably haunting the Élysée as we speak — clearly the man cannot stay away from politics.

(6) For those new to the French Revolution and the First Republic, we usually refer to two legislative bodies, each with unique roles. The National Assembly (1789): formed by the Third Estate to tackle immediate social and economic issues. It later became the Constituent Assembly, drafting the 1791 Constitution and establishing a constitutional monarchy.

(7) Une singularité frappante de l'état dont nous sommes affranchis est sans doute que la langue nationale, qui chaque jour étendait ses conquêtes au-delà des limites de la France, soit restée au milieu de nous inaccessible à un si grand nombre de ses habitants.

(8) Les écoles primaires mettront fin à cette étrange inégalité : la langue de la Constitution et des lois y sera enseignée à tous ; et cette foule de dialectes corrompus, dernier reste de la féodalité, sera contraint de disparaître : la force des choses le commande

(9) Le fédéralisme et la superstition parlent bas-breton; l’émigration et la haine de la République parlent allemand; la contre révolution parle italien et le fanatisme parle basque. Brisons ces instruments de dommage et d’erreur. .. . La monarchie avait des raisons de ressembler a la tour de Babel; dans la démocratie, laisser les citoyens ignorants de la langue nationale, incapables de contréler le pouvoir, cest trahir la patrie, c'est méconnaitre les bienfaits de l'imprimerie, chaque imprimeur étant un instituteur de langue et de législation. . . . Chez un peuple libre la langue doit étre une et la méme pour tous.

(10) Patois means regional dialect in French.

[nigrit]

Excellent post. Many of the big speeches were still being translated into German and Italian in 1794. Rights of Man into Flemish and Arabic too.

The really juicy ones like Robespierre’s speech on political morality and Saint Just’s Against factions were translated into English and smuggled over on contraband boats although no trace so far found in British libraries/archives. To freak Pitt out and put his pitbulls off the scent they printed them on English type in Paris so it would look like they were being produced in London. The Political morality speech somehow ended up being published in Philadelphia in 1794 with the immortal, and much misunderstood, virtue/terror phrase

[nigrit]

Not quite sure what to make of this study of the frev tumblr community, except that on first glance it seems a bit waffly! And provides few direct egs of what they’re trying to get at. But for those curious to see how their enthusiasm/activities/interventions are perceived, here’s a link. Thoughts?

[ikenoklasm]

The squeak I let out (when I realized that this image of Antoine Léaument was similiar to Janelle's art of Robespierre) at the jeepney was audible that's for sure.

[nigrit]

If I remember correctly, the two portraits flanking Rousseau, later scrubbed out, were Lepeletier and Marat!

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Therefore, if you have the oppurtunity to meet him, and the conversation starts revolving around me, I leave you my reputation. What induces me warn you in this way is that my brother last year told me that cousin Henriet was far from eulogizing me, and I believe that on his next journey he will go even further than what he said previous years, as he now believes he has the right to revenge. Regardless, if I allowed myself a few jokes on his expense, it was always in secret and within earshot; but in public, and whenever the words I uttered might have had any consequence, I have always exalted my cousin, and I dare to speak against my conscience at times, at least in some respects. Camille Desmoulins in the first conserved letter written by him that we know of, dated May 10 1782

I had dreamed about a republic that everyone would have loved. Never had I imagiened that men could be so cruel and so injust. How can it be so that a few jokes in my writings, against colleagues that had provoked me, could delete the memory of my services! I do not hide the fact that I die as a victim of these jokes and of my friendship for Danton. Desmoulins in the last conserved letter have from him, written in the Luxembourg prison on April 1 1794

[nigrit]

​are you saying Camille is the court jester who went too far? What was his brother’ role during the Revolution?

His fate always reminds me, for some reason, of the children being hunted down by Robert Mitchum’s terrifying (false) preacher man with the words ‘love’ and ‘hate’ tattooed on his knuckles, in Night of the Hunter

[nigrit]

h/t Shusaku Takaoka

It was the ducky!

[nigrit]

I've got a little list…

Here’s something to get your teeth into over the weekend.

I recently found this “Liste des hommes sûrs aiant de la tête et du cuer” in Albert Mathiez’s collection of articles and speeches, Autour de Robespierre (1957, reissued in deluxe edition 1976, Eds Famot), between pp.64-65.

Now the funny thing is that apart from Max’s lousy spelling, few people seem to have seen this list, which is currently missing from the Archives (although it is credited here as from the B & AN), and is not published in the Courtois collection of the Robespierre papers that fell into his hands after 9 Thermidor. Almost certainly he wished to spare a few blushes to some of the freshly blooded Thermidorians!

So a couple of mysteries to solve here.

1/ When was the document written?

I’m guessing not before December 1793, as there’s no Marat, Danton or Desmoulins but Fouché & Carrier are on it.

However, assuming there was no need to list “sound men” if they were already in positions of power, why list Moyse Bayle and PFJ Le Bas who were appointed to the Committee of General Security (Aug & Sept? 1793)?

I’m also assuming that reports of the crimes in Lyon and Nantes, which led to the recall of Fouché and Carrier (sent “en mission” in the summer of 1793), would not have reached Paris/the CPS until Jan/Feb 1794?

I think all the names listed are Convention deputies from the Mountain but happy to be corrected

2/ What does L.R. no.23 mean? “Liste (de) Robespierre”?

Was it written by Max or added later by a clerk? Does this mean there are at least 22 other lists waiting to be discovered?! Has anyone seen the originals of the ones in Courtois? Do they also have L.R. (x)?

3/Why does he refer to his own brother as Robespierre jeune?! Perhaps because the list was intended to be passed on to someone, but then why would it be found in Robespierre’s papers?

Thoughts?

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

1 - Le Bas

2 - Hentz 

3 - Duquenoi (?)

4 - Robespierre the younger 

5 - de La Coste 

6 - Puissart (?)

7 - Carrier

8 - Dumont ?

9 - La Planche 

10 - Isoré 

11 - Chales (?)

12 - Fouché

13 - Monteau (?)

14 - the younger

15 - Laignelot 

16 - Lacoste, well accompanied 

17 - Prost 

18 - Ricord

19 - Rühl

20 - Leman (?)

21 - Moyse Bayle 

The majority of these appear to have served as representatives on mission (1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 12, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21). I have not been able to identify the rest, but it would explain why Robespierre has added ”bien accompagne” after Lacoste’s name, why Danton and Desmoulins are not on the list and why Le Bas, Élie Lacoste and Bayle are the only CGS members included on it.

Fouché was recalled from Lyon by a decree written by Robespierre dated March 27 1794. But the news of the ”crimes” (if by that you mean mass executions) carried out in the city reached Paris/the CPS already months before that. Robespierre is strangely enough also recorded to have openly ”paid homage to the patriotism of [Fouché]” as late as April 8 1794, so maybe it was actually after this he came to dislike him? As for Carrier, I personally think it’s a lot to assume Robespierre actually came to distrust/dislike him in the first place…

Robespierre is recorded to have referred to himself in third person in other notes he’s written himself (1, 2), so I guess referring to his brother as ”Robespierre the younger” wouldn’t be that out of character for him…

The L.R. no.23 mystery I sadly have no idea about… But 23 unseen lists sure would be something!

[nigrit]

I just noticed you missed one out, 22 - Granet de Marseille. Do we know as anything about him?

Thank you for explaining the nuances over Max’s known attitude towards Fouché & Carrier. As you say, it is extraordinary when (otherwise good) historians just repeat each other and ignore or choose to minimise the known facts.

I wonder if this is because of 9 Thermidor and the need to explain it in terms of a fundamentally decent (but ruthless) man vs the fanatical, opportunist rest? Sometimes I look at him and see a brave, honest, principled defender of human rights. Other times I see a pompous, bigoted, ruthless, jealous chauvinist who barely left Arras/Paris, wrote bad poetry, hated England, despised uppity women (who resisted their obvious domestic role for cooking and cleaning), condoned violence when it suited him and didn’t have a cosmopolitan bone in his body!

From what you suggest here, it seems he only objected to the excessive punishments once they started to lose the hearts and minds of local ‘patriots’. Although even here, he seems to have ignored the plea of one of his oldest friends from Arras.

BTW, I checked both refs here and couldn’t find 3rd person egs. This is something that really intrigues me so could you indicate more precisely. Many thanks

“Robespierre is recorded to have referred to himself in third person in other notes he’s written himself (1, 2), so I guess referring to his brother as ”Robespierre the younger” wouldn’t be that out of character for him…”

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

I did indeed miss him, nice catch! I’ve never heard of the dude before, but I suppose this is him: https://fr.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/François_Omer_Granet Though interestingly, it doesn’t say anything about him being a representative on mission in his wikipedia…

Here are the times Max refers to himself in third person in the notes:

Robespierre was accused; he (Danton) didn’t say a single word if it wasn’t for isolating himself from him (97).

[Bourdon de l'Oise] presented a clerk to it which Carnot placed in his offices and who has been dismissed from it upon the repeated proposal of Robespierre.

With how rare it seems to have been to refer to people by their firstname (even in letters exchanged between family members that I’ve seen, the norm seems to be to call each other ”my father/son/mother” etc, I guess Max calling Augustin ”Robespierre the younger” isn’t that out of line, but this is a bit stranger given the fact he refers to himself in first person throughout the rest of the notes…

[nigrit]

Thanks for this. Don’t know how I missed the Robes self refs, and I read it twice! Pretty quickly admittedly. I’ll blame the 😷. Still it fits in with the idea of him slowly detaching from himself and becoming a kind of revolutionary archetype. Comes across very strongly in his later speeches but I need to figure this out more.

Will try to identify the ?s on your list and reblog later. Wiki says Granet seen as a man of the left and was appointed to CPS in Sept with Collot and BV but turned it down. Judging by his portrait he was also a terrible dresser!

[nigrit]

I've got a little list…

Here’s something to get your teeth into over the weekend.

I recently found this “Liste des hommes sûrs aiant de la tête et du cuer” in Albert Mathiez’s collection of articles and speeches, Autour de Robespierre (1957, reissued in deluxe edition 1976, Eds Famot), between pp.64-65.

Now the funny thing is that apart from Max’s lousy spelling, few people seem to have seen this list, which is currently missing from the Archives (although it is credited here as from the B & AN), and is not published in the Courtois collection of the Robespierre papers that fell into his hands after 9 Thermidor. Almost certainly he wished to spare a few blushes to some of the freshly blooded Thermidorians!

So a couple of mysteries to solve here.

1/ When was the document written?

I’m guessing not before December 1793, as there’s no Marat, Danton or Desmoulins but Fouché & Carrier are on it.

However, assuming there was no need to list “sound men” if they were already in positions of power, why list Moyse Bayle and PFJ Le Bas who were appointed to the Committee of General Security (Aug & Sept? 1793)?

I’m also assuming that reports of the crimes in Lyon and Nantes, which led to the recall of Fouché and Carrier (sent “en mission” in the summer of 1793), would not have reached Paris/the CPS until Jan/Feb 1794?

I think all the names listed are Convention deputies from the Mountain but happy to be corrected

2/ What does L.R. no.23 mean? “Liste (de) Robespierre”?

Was it written by Max or added later by a clerk? Does this mean there are at least 22 other lists waiting to be discovered?! Has anyone seen the originals of the ones in Courtois? Do they also have L.R. (x)?

3/Why does he refer to his own brother as Robespierre jeune?! Perhaps because the list was intended to be passed on to someone, but then why would it be found in Robespierre’s papers?

Thoughts?

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

1 - Le Bas

2 - Hentz 

3 - Duquenoi (?)

4 - Robespierre the younger 

5 - de La Coste 

6 - Puissart (?)

7 - Carrier

8 - Dumont ?

9 - La Planche 

10 - Isoré 

11 - Chales (?)

12 - Fouché

13 - Monteau (?)

14 - the younger

15 - Laignelot 

16 - Lacoste, well accompanied 

17 - Prost 

18 - Ricord

19 - Rühl

20 - Leman (?)

21 - Moyse Bayle 

The majority of these appear to have served as representatives on mission (1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 12, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21). I have not been able to identify the rest, but it would explain why Robespierre has added ”bien accompagne” after Lacoste’s name, why Danton and Desmoulins are not on the list and why Le Bas, Élie Lacoste and Bayle are the only CGS members included on it.

Fouché was recalled from Lyon by a decree written by Robespierre dated March 27 1794. But the news of the ”crimes” (if by that you mean mass executions) carried out in the city reached Paris/the CPS already months before that. Robespierre is strangely enough also recorded to have openly ”paid homage to the patriotism of [Fouché]” as late as April 8 1794, so maybe it was actually after this he came to dislike him? As for Carrier, I personally think it’s a lot to assume Robespierre actually came to distrust/dislike him in the first place…

Robespierre is recorded to have referred to himself in third person in other notes he’s written himself (1, 2), so I guess referring to his brother as ”Robespierre the younger” wouldn’t be that out of character for him…

The L.R. no.23 mystery I sadly have no idea about… But 23 unseen lists sure would be something!

[nigrit]

I just noticed you missed one out, 22 - Granet de Marseille. Do we know as anything about him?

Thank you for explaining the nuances over Max’s known attitude towards Fouché & Carrier. As you say, it is extraordinary when (otherwise good) historians just repeat each other and ignore or choose to minimise the known facts.

I wonder if this is because of 9 Thermidor and the need to explain it in terms of a fundamentally decent (but ruthless) man vs the fanatical, opportunist rest? Sometimes I look at him and see a brave, honest, principled defender of human rights. Other times I see a pompous, bigoted, ruthless, jealous chauvinist who barely left Arras/Paris, wrote bad poetry, hated England, despised uppity women (who resisted their obvious domestic role for cooking and cleaning), condoned violence when it suited him and didn’t have a cosmopolitan bone in his body!

From what you suggest here, it seems he only objected to the excessive punishments once they started to lose the hearts and minds of local ‘patriots’. Although even here, he seems to have ignored the plea of one of his oldest friends from Arras.

BTW, I checked both refs here and couldn’t find 3rd person egs. This is something that really intrigues me so could you indicate more precisely. Many thanks

“Robespierre is recorded to have referred to himself in third person in other notes he’s written himself (1, 2), so I guess referring to his brother as ”Robespierre the younger” wouldn’t be that out of character for him…”