On May 29, 1849, the legislative National
Assembly convened. On December 2, 1851, it was
broken up. This period embraces the term of the
Constitutional or Parliamentary public.
In the first French revolution, upon
the reign of the Constitutionalists succeeds that
of the Girondins; and upon the reign of the Girondins
follows that of the Jacobins. Each of these parties
in succession rests upon its more advanced element.
So soon as it has carried the revolution far enough
not to be able to keep pace with, much less march ahead
of it, it is shoved aside by its more daring allies,
who stand behind it, and it is sent to the guillotine.
Thus the revolution moves along an upward line.
Just the reverse in 1848. The
proletarian party appears as an appendage to the small
traders’ or democratic party; it is betrayed
by the latter and allowed to fall on April 16, May
15, and in the June days. In its turn, the democratic
party leans upon the shoulders of the bourgeois republicans;
barely do the bourgeois republicans believe themselves
firmly in power, than they shake off these troublesome
associates for the purpose of themselves leaning upon
the shoulders of the party of Order. The party
of Order draws in its shoulders, lets the bourgeois
republicans tumble down heels over head, and throws
itself upon the shoulders of the armed power.
Finally, still of the mind that it is sustained by
the shoulders of the armed power, the party of Order
notices one fine morning that these shoulders have
turned into bayonets. Each party kicks backward
at those that are pushing forward, and leans forward
upon those that are crowding backward; no wonder that,
in this ludicrous posture, each loses its balance,
and, after having cut the unavoidable grimaces, breaks
down amid singular somersaults. Accordingly,
the revolution moves along a downward line. It
finds itself in this retreating motion before the
last February-barricade is cleared away, and the first
governmental authority of the revolution has been
constituted.
The period we now have before us embraces
the motliest jumble of crying contradictions:
constitutionalists, who openly conspire against the
Constitution; revolutionists, who admittedly are constitutional;
a National Assembly that wishes to be omnipotent yet
remains parliamentary; a Mountain, that finds its
occupation in submission, that parries its present
defeats with prophecies of future victories; royalists,
who constitute the “pâtres conscripti”
of the republic, and are compelled by the situation
to uphold abroad the hostile monarchic houses, whose
adherents they are, while in France they support the
republic that they hate; an Executive power that finds
its strength in its very weakness, and its dignity
in the contempt that it inspires; a republic, that
is nothing else than the combined infamy of two monarchies the
Restoration and the July Monarchy with an
imperial label; unions, whose first clause is disunion;
struggles, whose first law is in-decision; in the
name of peace, barren and hollow agitation; in the
name of the revolution, solemn sermonizings on peace;
passions without truth; truths without passion; heroes
without heroism; history without events; development,
whose only moving force seems to be the calendar,
and tiresome by the constant reiteration of the same
tensions and relaxes; contrasts, that seem to intensify
themselves periodically, only in order to wear themselves
off and collapse without a solution; pretentious efforts
made for show, and bourgeois frights at the danger
of the destruction of the world, simultaneous with
the carrying on of the pettiest intrigues and the
performance of court comedies by the world’s
saviours, who, in their “laisser aller,”
recall the Day of Judgment not so much as the days
of the Fronde; the official collective genius of France
brought to shame by the artful stupidity of a single
individual; the collective will of the nation, as often
as it speaks through the general suffrage, seeking
its true expression in the prescriptive enemies of
the public interests until it finally finds it in
the arbitrary will of a filibuster. If ever a
slice from history is drawn black upon black, it is
this. Men and events appear as reversed “Schlemihls,”
[#1 The hero In Chamisso’s “Peter Schiemihi,”
who loses his own shadow.] as shadows, the bodies
of which have been lost. The revolution itself
paralyzes its own apostles, and equips only its adversaries
with passionate violence. When the “Red
Spectre,” constantly conjured up and exorcised
by the counter-revolutionists finally does appear,
it does not appear with the Anarchist Phrygian cap
on its head, but in the uniform of Order, in the Red
Breeches of the French Soldier.
We saw that the Ministry, which Bonaparte
installed on December 20, 1849, the day of his “Ascension,”
was a ministry of the party of Order, of the Legitimist
and Orleanist coalition. The Barrot-Falloux
ministry had weathered the republican constitutive
convention, whose term of life it had shortened with
more or less violence, and found itself still at the
helm. Changamier, the General of the allied royalists
continued to unite in his person the command-in-chief
of the First Military Division and of the Parisian
National Guard. Finally, the general elections
had secured the large majority in the National Assembly
to the party of Order. Here the Deputies and
Peers of Louis Phillipe met a saintly crowd of Legitimists,
for whose benefit numerous ballots of the nation had
been converted into admission tickets to the political
stage. The Bonapartist representatives were too
thinly sowed to be able to build an independent parliamentary
party. They appeared only as “mauvaise
queue” [#2 Practical joke] played upon
the party of Order. Thus the party of Order was
in possession of the Government, of the Army, and of
the legislative body, in short, of the total power
of the State, morally strengthened by the general
elections, that caused their sovereignty to appear
as the will of the people, and by the simultaneous
victory of the counter-revolution on the whole continent
of Europe.
Never did party open its campaign
with larger means at its disposal and under more favorable
auspices.
The shipwrecked pure republicans found
themselves in the legislative National Assembly melted
down to a clique of fifty men, with the African Generals
Cavaignac, Lamorciere and Bedeau at its head.
The great Opposition party was, however, formed by
the Mountain. This parliamentary baptismal name
was given to itself by the Social Democratic party.
It disposed of more than two hundred votes out of the
seven hundred and fifty in the National Assembly, and,
hence, was at least just as powerful as any one of
the three factions of the party of Order. Its
relative minority to the total royalist coalition seemed
counterbalanced by special circumstances. Not
only did the Departmental election returns show that
it had gained a considerable following among the rural
population, but, furthermore, it numbered almost all
the Paris Deputies in its camp; the Army had, by the
election of three under-officers, made a confession
of democratic faith; and the leader of the Mountain,
Ledru-Rollin had in contrast to all the representatives
of the party of Order, been raised to the rank of the
“parliamentary nobility” by five Departments,
who combined their suffrages upon him. Accordingly,
in view of the inevitable collisions of the royalists
among themselves, on the one hand, and of the whole
party of Order with Bonaparte, on the other, the Mountain
seemed on May 29,1849, to have before it all the elements
of success. A fortnight later, it had lost everything,
its honor included.
Before we follow this parliamentary
history any further, a few observations are necessary,
in order to avoid certain common deceptions concerning
the whole character of the epoch that lies before us.
According to the view of the democrats, the issue,
during the period of the legislative National Assembly,
was, the same as during the period of the constitutive
assembly, simply the struggle between republicans and
royalists; the movement itself was summed up by them
in the catch-word Reaction night, in which
all cats are grey, and allows them to drawl out their
drowsy commonplaces. Indeed, at first sight, the
party of Order presents the appearance of a tangle
of royalist factions, that, not only intrigue against
each other, each aiming to raise its own Pretender
to the throne, and exclude the Pretender of the Opposite
party, but also are all united in a common hatred for
and common attacks against the “Republic.”
On its side, the Mountain appears, in counter-distinction
to the royalist conspiracy, as the representative
of the “Republic.” The party of Order
seems constantly engaged in a “Reaction,”
which, neither more nor less than in Prussia, is directed
against the press, the right of association and the
like, and is enforced by brutal police interventions
on the part of the bureaucracy, the police and the
public prosecutor just as in Prussia; the
Mountain on the contrary, is engaged with equal assiduity
in parrying these attacks, and thus in defending the
“eternal rights of man” as every
so-called people’s party has more or less done
for the last hundred and fifty years. At a closer
inspection, however, of the situation and of the parties,
this superficial appearance, which veils the Class
Struggle, together with the peculiar physiognomy of
this period, vanishes wholly.
Legitimists and Orleanists constituted,
as said before, the two large factions of the party
of Order. What held these two factions to their
respective Pretenders, and inversely kept them apart
from each other, what else was it but the lily and
the tricolor, the House of Bourbon and the house of
Orleans, different shades of royalty? Under the
Bourbons, Large Landed Property ruled together with
its parsons and lackeys; under the Orleanist, it was
the high finance, large industry, large commerce,
i.e., Capital, with its retinue of lawyers, professors
and orators. The Legitimate kingdom was but the
political expression for the hereditary rule of the
landlords, as the July monarchy was bur the political
expression for the usurped rule of the bourgeois upstarts.
What, accordingly, kept these two factions apart was
no so-called set of principles, it was their material
conditions for life two different sorts
of property ; it was the old antagonism
of the City and the Country, the rivalry between Capital
and Landed property. That simultaneously old
recollections; personal animosities, fears and hopes;
prejudices and illusions; sympathies and antipathies;
convictions, faith and principles bound these
factions to one House or the other, who denies it?
Upon the several forms of property, upon the social
conditions of existence, a whole superstructure is
reared of various and peculiarly shaped feelings,
illusions, habits of thought and conceptions of life.
The whole class produces and shapes these out of its
material foundation and out of the corresponding social
conditions. The individual unit to whom they
flow through tradition and education, may fancy that
they constitute the true reasons for and premises of
his conduct. Although Orleanists and Legitimists,
each of these factions, sought to make itself and
the other believe that what kept the two apart was
the attachment of each to its respective royal House;
nevertheless, facts proved later that it rather was
their divided interest that forbade the union of the
two royal Houses. As, in private life, the distinction
is made between what a man thinks of himself and says,
and that which he really is and does, so, all the
more, must the phrases and notions of parties in historic
struggles be distinguished from the real organism,
and their real interests, their notions and their reality.
Orleanists and Legitimists found themselves in the
republic beside each other with equal claims.
Each side wishing, in opposition to the other, to
carry out the restoration of its own royal House, meant
nothing else than that each of the two great Interests
into which the bourgeoisie is divided Land
and Capital sought to restore its own supremacy
and the subordinacy of the other. We speak of
two bourgeois interests because large landed property,
despite its feudal coquetry and pride of race, has
become completely bourgeois through the development
of modern society. Thus did the Tories of England
long fancy that they were enthusiastic for the Kingdom,
the Church and the beauties of the old English Constitution,
until the day of danger wrung from them the admission
that their enthusiasm was only for Ground Rent.
The coalized royalists carried on
their intrigues against each other in the press, in
Ems, in Clarmont outside of the parliament.
Behind the scenes, they don again their old Orleanist
and Legitimist liveries, and conduct their old tourneys;
on the public stage, however, in their public acts,
as a great parliamentary party, they dispose of their
respective royal houses with mere courtesies, adjourn
“in infinitum” the restoration of the
monarchy. Their real business is transacted as
Party of Order, i. e., under a Social, not a Political
title; as representatives of the bourgeois social
system; not as knights of traveling princesses, but
as the bourgeois class against the other classes;
not as royalists against republicans. Indeed,
as party of Order they exercised a more unlimited
and harder dominion over the other classes of society
than ever before either under the restoration or the
July monarchy-a thing possible only under the form
of a parliamentary republic, because under this form
alone could the two large divisions of the French
bourgeoisie be united; in other words, only under this
form could they place on the order of business the
sovereignty of their class, in lieu of the regime
of a privileged faction of the same. If, this
notwithstanding, they are seen as the party of Order
to insult the republic and express their antipathy
for it, it happened not out of royalist traditions
only: Instinct taught them that while, indeed,
the republic completes their authority, it at the
same time undermined their social foundation, in that,
without intermediary, without the mask of the crown,
without being able to turn aside the national interest
by means of its subordinate struggles among its own
conflicting elements and with the crown, the republic
is compelled to stand up sharp against the subjugated
classes, and wrestle with them. It was a sense
of weakness that caused them to recoil before the
unqualified demands of their own class rule, and to
retreat to the less complete, less developed, and,
for that very reason, less dangerous forms of the same.
As often, on the contrary, as the allied royalists
come into conflict with the Pretender who stands before
them with Bonaparte , as often
as they believe their parliamentary omnipotence to
be endangered by the Executive, in other words, as
often as they must trot out the political title of
their authority, they step up as Republicans, not
as Royalists and this is done from the Orleanist
Thiers, who warns the National Assembly that the republic
divides them least, down to Legitimist Berryer, who,
on December 2, 1851, the scarf of the tricolor around
him, harangues the people assembled before the Mayor’s
building of the Tenth Arrondissement, as a tribune
in the name of the Republic; the echo, however, derisively
answering back to him: “Henry V.! Henry
V!” [#3 The candidate of the Bourbons, or Legitimists,
for the throne.]
However, against the allied bourgeois,
a coalition was made between the small traders and
the workingmen the so-called Social Democratic
party. The small traders found themselves ill
rewarded after the June days of 1848; they saw their
material interests endangered, and the democratic
guarantees, that were to uphold their interests, made
doubtful. Hence, they drew closer to the workingmen.
On the other hand, their parliamentary representatives the
Mountain , after being shoved aside during
the dictatorship of the bourgeois republicans, had,
during the last half of the term of the constitutive
convention, regained their lost popularity through
the struggle with Bonaparte and the royalist ministers.
They had made an alliance with the Socialist leaders.
During February, 1849, reconciliation banquets were
held. A common program was drafted, joint election
committees were empanelled, and fusion candidates
were set up. The revolutionary point was thereby
broken off from the social demands of the proletariat
and a democratic turn given to them; while, from the
democratic claims of the small traders’ class,
the mere political form was rubbed off and the Socialist
point was pushed forward. Thus came the Social
Democracy about. The new Mountain, the result
of this combination, contained, with the exception
of some figures from the working class and some Socialist
sectarians, the identical elements of the old Mountain,
only numerically stronger. In the course of events
it had, however, changed, together with the class
that it represented. The peculiar character of
the Social Democracy is summed up in this that democratic-republican
institutions are demanded as the means, not to remove
the two extremes Capital and Wage-slavery ,
but in order to weaken their antagonism and transform
them into a harmonious whole. However different
the methods may be that are proposed for the accomplishment
of this object, however much the object itself may
be festooned with more or less revolutionary fancies,
the substance remains the same. This substance
is the transformation of society upon democratic lines,
but a transformation within the boundaries of the
small traders’ class. No one must run away
with the narrow notion that the small traders’
class means on principle to enforce a selfish class
interest. It believes rather that the special
conditions for its own emancipation are the general
conditions under which alone modern society can be
saved and the class struggle avoided. Likewise
must we avoid running away with the notion that the
Democratic Representatives are all “shopkeepers,”
or enthuse for these. They may by
education and individual standing be as
distant from them as heaven is from earth. That
which makes them representatives of the small traders’
class is that they do not intellectually leap the bounds
which that class itself does not leap in practical
life; that, consequently, they are theoretically driven
to the same problems and solutions, to which material
interests and social standing practically drive the
latter. Such, in fact, is at all times the relation
of the “political” and the “literary”
representatives of a class to the class they represent.
After the foregoing explanations,
it goes with-out saying that, while the Mountain is
constantly wrestling for the republic and the so-called
“rights of man,” neither the republic nor
the “rights of man” is its real goal,
as little as an army, whose weapons it is sought to
deprive it of and that defends itself, steps on the
field of battle simply in order to remain in possession
of implements of warfare.
The party of Order provoked the Mountain
immediately upon the convening of the assembly.
The bourgeoisie now felt the necessity of disposing
of the democratic small traders’ class, just
as a year before it had understood the necessity of
putting an end to the revolutionary proletariat.
But the position of the foe had changed.
The strength of the proletarian party was on the streets;
that of the small traders’ class was in the
National Assembly itself. The point was, accordingly,
to wheedle them out of the National Assembly into
the street, and to have them break their parliamentary
power themselves, before time and opportunity could
consolidate them. The Mountain jumped with loose
reins into the trap.
The bombardment of Rome by the French
troops was the bait thrown at the Mountain. It
violated Article V. of the Constitution, which forbade
the French republic to use its forces against the liberties
of other nations; besides, Article IV. forbade all
declaration of war by the Executive without the consent
of the National Assembly; furthermore, the constitutive
assembly had censured the Roman expedition by its
resolution of May 8. Upon these grounds, Ledru-Rollin
submitted on June 11, 1849, a motion impeaching Bonaparte
and his Ministers. Instigated by the wasp-stings
of Thiers, he even allowed himself to be carried away
to the point of threatening to defend the Constitution
by all means, even arms in hand. The Mountain
rose as one man, and repeated the challenge.
On June 12, the National Assembly rejected the notion
to impeach, and the Mountain left the parliament.
The events of June 13 are known: the proclamation
by a part of the Mountain pronouncing Napoleon and
his Ministers “outside the pale of the Constitution”;
the street parades of the democratic National Guards,
who, unarmed as they were, flew apart at contact with
the troops of Changarnier; etc., etc.
Part of the Mountain fled abroad, another part was
assigned to the High Court of Bourges, and a parliamentary
regulation placed the rest under the school-master
supervision of the President of the National Assembly.
Paris was again put under a state of siege; and the
democratic portion of the National Guards was disbanded.
Thus the influence of the Mountain in parliament was
broken, together with the power; of the small traders’
class in Paris.
Lyons, where the 13th of June had
given the signal to a bloody labor uprising, was,
together with the five surrounding Departments, likewise
pronounced in state of siege, a condition that continues
down to this moment. [#4 January, 1852]
The bulk of the Mountain had left
its vanguard in the lurch by refusing their signatures
to the proclamation; the press had deserted: only
two papers dared to publish the pronunciamento; the
small traders had betrayed their Representatives:
the National Guards stayed away, or, where they did
turn up, hindered the raising of barricades; the Representatives
had duped the small traders: nowhere were the
alleged affiliated members from the Army to be seen;
finally, instead of gathering strength from them,
the democratic party had infected the proletariat
with its own weakness, and, as usual with democratic
feats, the leaders had the satisfaction of charging
“their people” with desertion, and the
people had the satisfaction of charging their leaders
with fraud.
Seldom was an act announced with greater
noise than the campaign contemplated by the Mountain;
seldom was an event trumpeted ahead with more certainty
and longer beforehand than the “inevitable victory
of the democracy.” This is evident:
the democrats believe in the trombones before whose
blasts the walls of Jericho fall together; as often
as they stand before the walls of despotism, they
seek to imitate the miracle. If the Mountain
wished to win in parliament, it should not appeal to
arms; if it called to arms in parliament, it should
not conduct itself parliamentarily on the street;
if the friendly demonstration was meant seriously,
it was silly not to foresee that it would meet with
a warlike reception; if it was intended for actual
war, it was rather original to lay aside the weapons
with which war had to be conducted. But the revolutionary
threats of the middle class and of their democratic
representatives are mere attempts to frighten an adversary;
when they have run themselves into a blind alley,
when they have sufficiently compromised themselves
and are compelled to execute their threats, the thing
is done in a hesitating manner that avoids nothing
so much as the means to the end, and catches at pretexts
to succumb. The bray of the overture, that announces
the fray, is lost in a timid growl so soon as this
is to start; the actors cease to take themselves seriously,
and the performance falls flat like an inflated balloon
that is pricked with a needle.
No party exaggerates to itself the
means at its disposal more than the democratic, none
deceives itself with greater heedlessness on the situation.
A part of the Army voted for it, thereupon the Mountain
is of the opinion that the Army would revolt in its
favor. And by what occasion? By an occasion,
that, from the standpoint of the troops, meant nothing
else than that the revolutionary soldiers should take
the part of the soldiers of Rome against French soldiers.
On the other hand, the memory of June, 1848, was still
too fresh not to keep alive a deep aversion on the
part of the proletariat towards the National Guard,
and a strong feeling of mistrust on the part of the
leaders of the secret societies for the democratic
leaders. In order to balance these differences,
great common interests at stake were needed. The
violation of an abstract constitutional paragraph
could not supply such interests. Had not the
constitution been repeatedly violated, according to
the assurances of the democrats themselves? Had
not the most popular papers branded them as a counter-revolutionary
artifice? But the democrat by reason
of his representing the middle class, that is to say,
a Transition Class, in which the interests of two
other classes are mutually dulled , imagines
himself above all class contrast. The democrats
grant that opposed to them stands a privileged class,
but they, together with the whole remaining mass of
the nation, constitute the “People.”
What they represent is the “people’s rights”;
their interests are the “people’s interests.”
Hence, they do not consider that, at an impending
struggle, they need to examine the interests and attitude
of the different classes. They need not too seriously
weigh their own means. All they have to do is
to give the signal in order to have the “people”
fall upon the “oppressors” with all its
inexhaustible resources. If, thereupon, in the
execution, their interests turn out to be uninteresting,
and their power to be impotence, it is ascribed either
to depraved sophists, who split up the “undivisible
people” into several hostile camps; or to the
army being too far brutalized and blinded to appreciate
the pure aims of the democracy as its own best; or
to some detail in the execution that wrecks the whole
plan; or, finally, to an unforeseen accident that
spoiled the game this time. At all events, the
democrat comes out of the disgraceful defeat as immaculate
as he went innocently into it, and with the refreshed
conviction that he must win; not that he himself and
his party must give up their old standpoint, but that,
on the contrary, conditions must come to his aid.
For all this, one must not picture
to himself the decimated, broken, and, by the new
parliamentary regulation, humbled Mountain altogether
too unhappy. If June 13 removed its leaders, it,
on the other hand, made room for new ones of inferior
capacity, who are flattered by their new position.
If their impotence in parliament could no longer be
doubted, they were now justified to limit their activity
to outbursts of moral indignation. If the party
of Order pretended to see in them, as the last official
representatives of the revolution, all the horrors
of anarchy incarnated, they were free to appear all
the more flat and modest in reality. Over June
13 they consoled themselves with the profound expression:
“If they but dare to assail universal suffrage
. . . then . . . then we will show who we are!”
Nous verróns. [#5 We shall see.]
As to the “Mountaineers,”
who had fled abroad, it suffices here to say that
Ledru-Rollin he having accomplished the
feat of hopelessly ruining, in barely a fortnight,
the powerful party at whose head he stood ,
found himself called upon to build up a French government
“in partibus;” that his figure, at a distance,
removed from the field of action, seemed to gain in
size in the measure that the level of the revolution
sank and the official prominences of official France
became more and more dwarfish; that he could figure
as republican Pretender for 1852, and periodically
issued to the Wallachians and other peoples circulars
in which “despot of the continent” is threatened
with the feats that he and his allies had in contemplation.
Was Proudhon wholly wrong when he cried out to these
gentlemen: “Vous n’etes que
des blaqueurs”? [#6 You are nothing but
fakirs.]
The party of Order had, on June 13,
not only broken up the Mountain, it had also established
the Subordination of the Constitution to the Majority
Decisions of the National Assembly. So, indeed,
did the republic understand it, to wit,
that the bourgeois ruled here in parliamentary form,
without, as in the monarchy, finding a check in the
veto of the Executive power, or the liability of parliament
to dissolution. It was a “parliamentary
republic,” as Thiers styled it. But if,
on June 13, the bourgeoisie secured its omnipotence
within the parliament building, did it not also strike
the parliament itself, as against the Executive and
the people, with incurable weakness by excluding its
most popular part? By giving up numerous Deputies,
without further ceremony to the mercies of the public
prosecutor, it abolished its own parliamentary inviolability.
The humiliating regulation, that it subjected the
Mountain to, raised the President of the republic in
the same measure that it lowered the individual Representatives
of the people. By branding an insurrection in
defense of the Constitution as anarchy, and as a deed
looking to the overthrow of society, it interdicted
to itself all appeal to insurrection whenever the Executive
should violate the Constitution against it. And,
indeed, the irony of history wills it that the very
General, who by order of Bonaparte bombarded Rome,
and thus gave the immediate occasion to the constitutional
riot of June 13, that Oudinot, on December 22, 1851,
is the one imploringly and vainly to be offered to
the people by the party of Order as the General of
the Constitution. Another hero of June 13, Vieyra,
who earned praise from the tribune of the National
Assembly for the brutalities that he had committed
in the democratic newspaper offices at the head of
a gang of National Guards in the hire of the high
finance this identical Vieyra was initiated
in the conspiracy of Bonaparte, and contributed materially
in cutting off all protection that could come to the
National Assembly, in the hour of its agony, from the
side of the National Guard.
June 13 had still another meaning.
The Mountain had wanted to place Bonaparte under charges.
Their defeat was, accordingly, a direct victory of
Bonaparte; it was his personal triumph over his democratic
enemies. The party of Order fought for the victory,
Bonaparte needed only to pocket it. He did so.
On June 14, a proclamation was to be read on the walls
of Paris wherein the President, as it were, without
his connivance, against his will, driven by the mere
force of circumstances, steps forward from his cloisterly
seclusion like misjudged virtue, complains of the
calumnies of his antagonists, and, while seeming to
identify his own person with the cause of order, rather
identifies the cause of order with his own person.
Besides this, the National Assembly had subsequently
approved the expedition against Rome; Bonaparte, however,
had taken the initiative in the affair. After
he had led the High Priest Samuel back into the Vatican,
he could hope as King David to occupy the Tuileries.
He had won the parson-interests over to himself.
The riot of June 13 limited itself,
as we have seen, to a peaceful street procession.
There were, consequently, no laurels to be won from
it. Nevertheless, in these days, poor in heroes
and events, the party of Order converted this bloodless
battle into a second Austerlitz. Tribune and
press lauded the army as the power of order against
the popular multitude, and the impotence of anarchy;
and Changarnier as the “bulwark of society” a
mystification that he finally believed in himself.
Underhand, however, the corps that seemed doubtful
were removed from Paris; the regiments whose suffrage
had turned out most democratic were banished from
France to Algiers the restless heads among the troops
were consigned to penal quarters; finally, the shutting
out of the press from the barracks, and of the barracks
from contact with the citizens was systematically
carried out.
We stand here at the critical turning
point in the history of the French National Guard.
In 1830, it had decided the downfall of the restoration.
Under Louis Philippe, every riot failed, at which the
National Guard stood on the side of the troops.
When, in the February days of 1848, it showed itself
passive against the uprising and doubtful toward Louis
Philippe himself, he gave himself up for lost.
Thus the conviction cast root that a revolution could
not win without, nor the Army against the National
Guard. This was the superstitious faith of the
Army in bourgeois omnipotence. The June days
of 1548, when the whole National Guard, jointly with
the regular troops, threw down the insurrection, had
confirmed the superstition. After the inauguration
of Bonaparte’s administration, the position
of the National Guard sank somewhat through the unconstitutional
joining of their command with the command of the First
Military Division in the person of Changarnier.
As the command of the National Guard
appeared here merely an attribute of the military
commander-in-chief, so did the Guard itself appear
only as an appendage of the regular troops. Finally,
on June 13, the National Guard was broken up, not
through its partial dissolution only, that from that
date forward was periodically repeated at all points
of France, leaving only wrecks of its former self
behind. The demonstration of June 13 was, above
all, a demonstration of the National Guards. True,
they had not carried their arms, but they had carried
their uniforms against the Army and the
talisman lay just in these uniforms. The Army
then learned that this uniform was but a woolen rag,
like any other. The spell was broken. In
the June days of 1848, bourgeoisie and small traders
were united as National Guard with the Army against
the proletariat; on June 13, 1849, the bourgeoisie
had the small traders’ National Guard broken
up; on December 2, 1851, the National Guard of the
bourgeoisie itself vanished, and Bonaparte attested
the fact when he subsequently signed the decree for
its disbandment. Thus the bourgeoisie had itself
broken its last weapon against the army, from the moment
when the small traders’ class no longer stood
as a vassal behind, but as a rebel before it; indeed,
it was bound to do so, as it was bound to destroy
with its own hand all its means of defence against
absolutism, so soon as itself was absolute.
In the meantime, the party of Order
celebrated the recovery of a power that seemed lost
in 1848 only in order that, freed from its trammels
in 1849, it be found again through invectives
against the republic and the Constitution; through
the malediction of all future, present and past revolutions,
that one included which its own leaders had made; and,
finally, in laws by which the press was gagged, the
right of association destroyed, and the stage of siege
regulated as an organic institution. The National
Assembly then adjourned from the middle of August to
the middle of October, after it had appointed a Permanent
Committee for the period of its absence. During
these vacations, the Legitimists intrigued with Ems;
the Orleanists with Claremont; Bonaparte through princely
excursions; the Departmental Councilmen in conferences
over the revision of the Constitution; occurrences,
all of which recurred regularly at the periodical
vacations of the National Assembly, and upon which
I shall not enter until they have matured into events.
Be it here only observed that the National Assembly
was impolitic in vanishing from the stage for long
intervals, and leaving in view, at the head of the
republic, only one, however sorry, figure Louis
Bonaparte’s , while, to the public
scandal, the party of Order broke up into its own royalist
component parts, that pursued their conflicting aspirations
after the restoration. As often as, during these
vacations the confusing noise of the parliament was
hushed, and its body was dissolved in the nation, it
was unmistakably shown that only one thing was still
wanting to complete the true figure of the republic:
to make the vacation of the National Assembly permanent,
and substitute its inscription “Liberty,
Equality, Fraternity” by the unequivocal
words, “Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery”.