convened. Louis XVI
however, who never could take a decision, refused to go as far as that.
To pacify the popular clamour he called together a meeting of the
Notables in the year 1787. This merely meant a gathering of the best
families who discussed what could and should be done, without touching
their feudal and clerical privilege of tax-exemption. It is unreasonable
to expect that a certain class of society shall commit political and
economic suicide for the benefit of another group of fellow-citizens.
The 127 Notables obstinately refused to surrender a single one of their
ancient rights. The crowd in the street, being now exceedingly hungry,
demanded that Necker, in whom they had confidence, be reappointed. The
Notables said "No." The crowd in the street began to smash windows and
do other unseemly things. The Notables fled. Calonne was dismissed.
A new colourless Minister of Finance, the Cardinal Lomenie de Brienne,
was appointed and Louis, driven by the violent threats of his starving
subjects, agreed to call together the old Estates General as "soon as
practicable." This vague promise of course satisfied no one.
No such severe winter had been experienced for almost a century. The
crops had been either destroyed by floods or had been frozen to death in
the fields. All the olive trees of the Provence had been killed. Private
charity tried to do some-thing but could accomplish little for eighteen
million starving people. Everywhere bread riots occurred. A generation
before these would have been put down by the army. But the work of
the new philosophical school had begun to bear fruit. People began to
understand that a shotgun is no effective remedy for a hungry stomach
and even the soldiers (who came from among the people) were no longer
to be depended upon. It was absolutely necessary that the king should
do something definite to regain the popular goodwill, but again he
hesitated.
Here and there in the provinces, little independent Republics were
established by followers of the new school. The cry of "no taxation
without representation" (the slogan of the American rebels a quarter of
a century before) was heard among the faithful middle classes. France
was threatened with general anarchy. To appease the people and to
increase the royal popularity, the government unexpectedly suspended the
former very strict form of censorship of books. At once a flood of
ink descended upon France. Everybody, high or low, cri
|