civic options while associating them
with an eventually triumphant patriotic “cause.” The feuding revolution-
ary leaders, then, if compelled all too often to rob the Peter of socially
beneficent expenditure to pay the Paul of military defense and aggran-
dizement, nevertheless were directly or indirectly serving the interests of
Frenchmen (and, yes, politically unenfranchised Frenchwomen too) in
all walks of life.
We might sound one final cautionary note in this connection. No matter
how necessary it may be for our analytical purposes to separate the revolu-
tionary leaders’ governmental priorities from all the political and ideolog-
ical and social issues they had constantly to engage, in the daily affairs of
the Revolution these innumerable and conflicting matters could not be so
easily sorted out. Still, we can assert in general terms that France’s guiding
spirits were striving to fashion and control critical foreign and domestic
policies even as they themselves were borne upon the tide of clamorous
events. And in this, as in much else, the years of upheaval testified both to
the dogged continuities of French history and to the exhilarating novelties
of revolutionary hopes and actions.
30 This has been pointed out in numerous excellent monographs on the Revolution in the provinces. For one of the most recent of these works, see Alan Forrest, The Revolution in Provincial France: Aquitaine, 1789–1799 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996).
Our study will have to deal recurrently with the tensions between the capital and the provinces during the revolutionary era.
31 There is a steadily growing corpus of works on the roles of women in the revolutionary era. See, as examples in point: Olwen Hufton, Women and the Limits of Citizenship in the French Revolution (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992); Sara Melzer and Leslie Rabine, eds., Rebel Daughters: Women and the French Revolution
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1992); Shirley E. Roessler, Out of the Shadows: Women and Politics in the French Revolution, 1789–1795 (New York: Peter Lang, 1996); and Dominique Godineau, The Women of Paris and the French Revolution , trans.
Katherine Streip (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998). Many other titles could be added to the list.
1
The ancien régime: challenges not met,
a dilemma not overcome
On 7 September 1782, French foreign minister Charles Gravier, comte de
Vergennes, acknowledged in a letter to his eventual successor, Armand-
Marc, comte de Montmorin, that England had “in its constitution and in
the establishments which it has permitted her to form, resources which
are lacking to us.” Eight weeks later, the foreign minister again referred to
English “advantages which our monarchical forms do not accord us.”1 It is
striking that Vergennes, however loyal to his country’s absolutist traditions,
should nevertheless have ruminated so uneasily upon differences between
the constitutional systems of the two rival powers. His reflections point
to a basic discrepancy in the old France – that between the far-reaching
objectives of its foreign policy and the national means actually marshaled
to attain those objectives.
In retrospect, it is clear that those ruling France in the years before 1789
confronted a challenge that in time became an unmanageable dilemma. The
challenge was to preserve French influence in an increasingly competitive
system of West Eurasian states while at the same time maintaining fiscal,
constitutional, and social stability at home. The dilemma was that the pur-
suit of what became an ever more ambitious foreign policy could not, in the
end, be judged strategically realistic – or be squared with the sociopolitical
tenets undergirding the ancien régime in France.
The statesmen/politicians of revolutionary France would find them-
selves similarly bedeviled by the interrelated complexities of foreign and
domestic policy.