Short History Of... - The French Revolution, Part 2 of 2

Episode Date: March 6, 2024

It’s simple enough to pinpoint the beginnings of the French Revolution in 1789, but far more difficult to mark its end. Following the initial outbreak of revolution, France was plunged into years of political, social and economic instability, as various new governments sought to replace the ancient monarchy. But how did the relationship between the king and his people deteriorate so badly? Who were the figures that ruled after him? And what was the lasting impact of those dark years at the end of the 18th century known as the Reign of Terror? This is Part 2 of a special two-part Short History Of the French Revolution. Written by Nicola Rayner. With thanks to Professor Marisa Linton, historian and author of ‘Choosing Terror; Virtue, Friendship, and Authenticity in the French Revolution’.  Get every episode of Short History Of a week early with Noiser+. You’ll also get ad-free listening, bonus material, and early access to shows across the Noiser network. Click the Noiser+ banner to get started. Or, if you’re on Spotify or Android, go to noiser.com/subscriptions. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It is late June 1792. A hot summer's day not far from Paris. The fierce beat of a drum accompanies thousands of feet marching towards the capital. A young man wearing the blue and white colors of his home city takes off his tricorn and wipes sweat from his brow. He and his comrades have been walking for three weeks, covering almost 500 miles. They're from Marseille on the south coast and are heading north for Paris. Like most of those he's marching with, the young man has never visited the capital before. But now he has good cause. But now he has good cause. Three years since the revolution began, France is now at war with Austria and Prussia.

The Minister of War has called for volunteer soldiers from the provinces to come to Paris to join the revolutionary army. And though the king opposes them, there is nothing the increasingly unpopular monarch can do to stop these federe, or volunteer soldiers, from pouring to Paris from all over the country. Yet it's an absurdly long walk from Marseille, and this man's body is breaking down before he has gone near a battle. Blisters are burning on his feet, and the summer sun is beating down relentlessly. He tips the water gourd attached to his belt to his lips, knowing it is futile. It's been empty for hours. He's sweaty, dehydrated, and dizzy with fatigue, but he forces himself to keep up with the rhythm of the marching men around him as they enter a patch of woodland. It's cooler in the

shade of the trees, but the young volunteer is still struggling. Forcing himself to place one foot after another, he trips over a branch and falls sprawling to the ground, his tricorn hat landing nearby. He tries to get up, but finds he can't. Maybe he won't make it to Paris after all. A drummer nearby stops beating his instrument and comes to help him to his feet. The soldier croaks that he's exhausted, that he can't go any further, but the drummer reaches into a coat pocket and hands him a glass bottle. Knowing it's his last trickle of water, the young Federe hesitates, but the drummer insists. After drinking, he immediately starts to feel better. Now the drummer takes off his soft, conical hat, known as a Liberty Cap, said to resemble

that worn by freed slaves in ancient Rome, and offers it as a swap for his new friend's tricorn. The Federese smiles. He is being given a symbol of the revolution. Straightening the cap on his new friend's head, the drummer grins, then helps the young volunteer to his feet. The drummer begins to beat the rousing rhythm again now, and the soldier, revived, decides the pain of his

blisters is not so bad. His feet pick up the pace, matching the rhythm of the others around him. Then someone begins to sing. It is a song the federe have been repeating the whole journey. The volunteer joins in. Every one of the men here knows the words to what will become known as La Marseillaise. It is a fighting song, an anthem, and as they reach the rousing chorus, he holds his head up high, knowing they're not far from Paris. With his brothers around him, ready to fight and die for the future of their beloved country, he decides that he will make it, after all.

France would not be France as we know it today without the French Revolution. The national anthem, La Marseillaise, the tricolour flag, and that famous slogan of liberty, equality, fraternity, were all forged during that tumultuous time. But far from being a single incident, the revolution was rather a series of events that spanned many years. Together, they left not only France, but the rest of the world deeply changed. It is simple enough to pinpoint when things began, in 1789, but when did the French Revolution really end? How did the relationship between the king and his people deteriorate so badly that it culminated

with the drop of the guillotine blade on his neck? Would things have been different had he not married Marie Antoinette? And what was the lasting impact of those dark years following 1789 known as the Reign of Terror? I'm John Hopkins. From Neuza, this is the second in a special two-part short history of the French Revolution. In the summer of 1792, France is at war with its neighbors Austria and Prussia. It has been three years since the storming of the Bastille, and the country has changed beyond recognition. Feudalism has been abolished, along with the privileges held by the nobility and clergy. In their place is a more

egalitarian society, as set out by the revolutionary document, the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen. The new constitutional monarchy limits the king's functions. The real power now lies with the Legislative Assembly. But not all its deputies trust Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette. After all, the queen was born an Austrian archduchess, and France is now at war with her home country, which is ruled by her nephew, Franz II. Then there's the small matter of the royal family's failed escape plan of the previous year known as the Flight to Varennes. Their secret plot, to meet up with a royalist general and his troops, has eroded public trust in the monarchy and increased republican sentiment in France. Still, somehow an uneasy peace has been struck between the monarch and his people. But it is fragile, and now new volunteer troops are pouring into Paris to join the army

in the fight against Prussia, Austria, and the queen's own relatives. Distrustful of these troops, known as the Federe, and keenly aware of his precarious position, the king refuses to sign a law authorizing this new voluntary force. In response, thousands take to the streets in Paris on June 20, 1792, aiming to plant a liberty tree at the king's home Tuileries Palace. Such trees have become a symbol of the revolutionary spirit, mimicking the elm planted across the Atlantic in Boston that became a rallying point for revolutionaries. Arriving at the palace, the crowd finds no resistance from the National Guard,

many of whom sympathize with their cause. The assembled citizens sport all the symbols of the Revolution, tricolour rosettes and liberty caps, but also long trousers instead of knee-breeches. Those embracing this trend reject aristocratic styles in favour of the costumes of ordinary workers and become known as the sans-culottes, meaning without breeches. Seeing the crowd coming, Marie Antoinette slips away in time out of a side entrance. But Louis, wearing an extra thick waistcoat, in case he is stabbed, does not flee. He meets his people, and when one of those cornering him offers him the red liberty cap, dangling from a blade, he has no choice but to take it. Placing the cap on his head,

He has no choice but to take it. Placing the cap on his head, he drinks a toast to his nation. It is a humiliating incident, but Louis survives it. It will be the last time a confrontation with his people is concluded peacefully. The straw that breaks the camel's back is placed there by accident. The Duke of Brunswick, the leader of the Prussian and Austrian forces, issues a threat of severe consequences to Paris if any harm comes to the king or queen. It makes a direct link between France's king and her foreign enemies. In furious response, in August 1792, the Federe and Saint-Culottes storm the Tuileries Palace again, and this time they massacre any royal guards who stand in their way.

The king and his family flee to safety at the assembly, but Louis is stripped of his title. The monarchy is suspended, and within days, Louis, Marie-Antoinette, and their two surviving children are sent to the Temple, a medieval fortress used as a prison. Now, a provisional executive council, dominated by the larger-than-life firebrand Georges Danton, passes a series of draconian emergency powers, and prisons start to fill with suspected royalist sympathizers. A gregarious and sociable bon vivant, Danton is the opposite of his political ally, Maximilien Robespierre, an abstemious lawyer known as the incorruptible, who lives on a diet of coffee and fruit.

Robespierre, who is credited with popularizing the slogan, Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité, has been involved in the revolution since the beginning. But it's not until 1792 that he steps into the limelight. Robespierre is driven by his beliefs, a conviction politician. But an idealist in a his beliefs, a conviction politician. But an idealist in a revolution can be a dangerous thing. Professor Marisa Linton is a historian and author of Choosing Terror, Virtue, Friendship and Authenticity in the French Revolution. Maximilien Robespierre was a lawyer in Arras in northern France.

If the revolution hadn't happened, no one would have heard of him. He was mild-mannered. He was inoffensive. But then the revolution happened and he got drawn into it like so many other people. And he becomes very much a political activist. If Robespierre had died in 1792, we would probably just think he was a good man, an idealistic man. He was all those things, but he was also a very dedicated revolutionary. And he comes to believe, like many others, that in the cause of the revolution, you may have to do things that are terrible. And so he starts to accept, as many others do, that terrible things

must be done. While the patriotic sans-Culotte sign up to fight in the war, fear spreads that the revolution's enemies might break out of prison while they're away. In early September, news reaches Paris that the Prussians have captured Verdun in northeastern France, close to the border. In response, a bloodthirsty mob storms the prisons in the capital, believing that the political prisoners there are planning to join a counter-revolutionary plot. What follows is nothing less than a bloodbath. Some of the victims are priests who have refused to swear allegiance to the Constitution.

Others include vagrants and children, hardly counter-revolutionary conspirators. A friend of Marie Antoinette's refuses to reveal details about the royal couple's communication with foreign powers, and is brutally beaten to death in the streets. Her severed head is paraded on a pike outside the temple prison to taunt the former queen, who is invited to kiss the woman they allege was once her lover. It's thanks to the loyalty of friends such as these that Marie Antoinette has survived this long. Her correspondence with contacts abroad have indeed been treacherous, but so far the revolutionaries have been unable to prove it, so Marie Antoinette is permitted to live, for now. All in all, the carnage of these September massacres continues for four days and claims

more than 1,200 lives. When word of the killings spreads to the rest of Europe, it's met with horror and revulsion. The Times newspaper in London reports with particularly grisly panache on the scenes in Paris. The carcasses of the mangled victims, it says, are become so familiar that they are passed by and trod on without any particular notice. But even amid such bloodshed, the administration has work to do. During this critical phase of the French Revolution, a new body is elected to provide an updated constitution for the country.

Calling itself the National Convention, it numbers over 700 deputies, including Danton and Robespierre. Two of the Convention's earliest acts are the formal abolition of the monarchy on September 21 and the next day the establishment of the Republic. The early days of the National Convention are dominated by the struggles between opposing revolutionary factions. The Girondins call for a more moderate transition of power, while the more radical voices come from the Montagnards. Their name, meaning the mountain men, comes from the high benches they sit on at the convention.

One of the burning questions on which the two factions disagree is what to do with Louis the Last, as the king is known. In the end, a trial is agreed upon. The trial of Louis XVI takes place in December 1792. He stands accused of various charges that cover his attempt to flee from Paris, his alleged collusion with foreign powers against the Republic, and his opposition to revolutionary reforms. He is found guilty, but the decision to execute him is passed by a single vote. It is the first time in history that a French royal has been sentenced to die. And the Republic marks the occasion with the use of a new contraption.

The guillotine was invented by the French revolutionaries themselves. The guillotine was invented by the French revolutionaries themselves. It was meant to be humane. That is compared with hanging or beheading by an axe. It was quicker than either of those things. Obviously, to our eyes, very horrible. But this is a society that has a death penalty. And so it doesn't seem so strange to them. So they see it as a humane and egalitarian way of killing people.

They use it experimentally a couple of times in 1792, but the first time it's used for a political execution is with the king, 21st of January 1793. That day, on the scaffold, the king's hair is cut in preparation for the guillotine. Today, on the scaffold, the king's hair is cut in preparation for the guillotine. He attempts to make one last speech, but his words are drowned out by an anticipatory drumroll. And at 10.22, the blade of the guillotine falls. A cannon is fired. Hearing it in the temple prison, Marie Antoinette collapses in grief.

The execution of the king wins the Republic few new friends. But her enemies swiftly multiply. Great Britain and the Dutch Republic join the fight against France, followed by Spain and several Italian states. In February 1793, uprisings break out in Brittany and the Vendée in western France. There, rebels begin to form a Catholic and royal army, devoted to restoring the heirs of the king they see as a martyr. Within a month, the Convention initiates the Revolutionary Tribunal, in order to keep control

of an increasingly turbulent situation. The Tribunal is a court for the trial of political offenders accused of counter-revolutionary activities, treason, and other crimes against the state. It gains a reputation for its swift and often arbitrary judgments. By the early summer, the Moderates, the Girondins, are overthrown and the more extreme left-leaning Montagnards now dominate the convention. It is the latter who compose the majority of the new Committee of Public Safety, which holds sway from 1793 to 1794. But despite its innocuous sounding name,

the period it presides over becomes known as the Reign of Terror. The period of the Terror was a traumatic time in French history. It's the time when revolutionaries have recourse to laws which will enable the revolutionary regime to stay in power and to fight off its enemies. You can't understand that without understanding that there was a war going on, that France was surrounded on all sides by enemies, and also that there was internal conflict within France. Within France's own boundaries, civil war in the Vendée continues to rage, with royalist forces opposed to the revolutionary government fighting against the Republic.

There is a series of horrific mass drownings of Catholic priests and others considered to be against the revolution's aims. But those hoping to repel the Convention will not be deterred. But those hoping to repel the convention will not be deterred. Similar pockets of resistance result in uprisings throughout France, called the Federalist Revolts. The Committee of Public Safety launches a campaign to eliminate perceived counter-revolutionaries and internal enemies. However, killing French men, even a French king, is one thing. But what of his widow, Marie Antoinette? Robespierre asks the Convention if they can leave in peace someone who is, in his words,

no less guilty and no less accused by the nation than Louis. There is no doubt that he is referring to the hated former queen, who will always be associated in the minds of the people with France's long-term enemy and neighbor, Austria. Marie Antoinette's trial takes place on October 14, 1793, when she stands accused of immorality and treason. When France and Austria were at war with one another over whether the revolution should continue, Marie Antoinette passed battle plans of the French armies to the Austrians. So in fact, she was a traitor. She actually was. But the people who put her on trial didn't know that.

They guessed it, but they didn't know that. They guessed it, but they didn't know it. And what they really convict her of is kind of being a bad woman, generally, on the basis of some quite fabricated evidence. She was actually accused of having sexually abused her small son in order to corrupt him politically. And that was a terrible and very, very unjust accusation and an awful thing to be said to her. What makes it worse is that her son, Louis Schaal, has been forced by the family's enemies to make the accusation against his own mother. The moment in which Marie Antoinette defends herself against this terrible charge

is the most dramatic of her trial. Antoinette defends herself against this terrible charge is the most dramatic of her trial. Appearing in a ragged black dress, her hair now white as snow despite her age of just 37, she makes a passionate plea. Calling on all mothers as her witness, she insists that she could never do the disgusting thing she has been accused of doing to her son, Louis Charles. There is a rousing cheer from the women in the public gallery. But this brief moment of support does not save Marie Antoinette. She is pronounced guilty and sentenced to follow her husband to the guillotine. It is 4.30 on the morning of October 16, 1793. In a cold, damp cell of the Conciergerie prison on an island in the Seine,

Marie Antoinette is seated at a desk, quill in hand. She is writing a final letter to her sister-in-law, Elizabeth, in which she sends her love and blessings to her children, whom she hasn't seen in months. She extends her pardon to her son, Louis Charles, forgiving him for the unfounded allegations he'd been forced to make. His words, in part, are what condemned her, but she knows how easy it can be to manipulate a fragile child. She leaves the letter on her desk and returns to her bunk. Facing the small high window on the wall opposite, she looks out at her last hours of daylight. At seven, her maid attends to her.

Marie Antoinette dresses in a plain black dress and takes just a few mouthfuls of broth for breakfast. But at eight, a priest and the executioner arrive. They order her to change into a white dress instead, and though she begs for privacy, she is forced to undress in full view of her guards. Now the executioner cuts her long, white hair in preparation for the blade. Thin and frail, Marie Antoinette is a shadow of her former self. There is no sign now of the pretty teenager whose diamond-covered wedding dress sparkled at Versailles two decades ago. She covers her head with a makeshift bonnet,

and her hands are painfully bound behind her back with rope. It's a humiliation she knows her husband was not forced to endure. The moment comes at last, and she is taken from her cell to meet her fate. Outside the prison, Marie Antoinette's transport to the guillotine is waiting for her. An open cart, so the crowd can see her and shout their final insults.

She climbs in, obeying the instruction to sit with her back to the horses. Paraded through the streets of Paris, with crowds ten people deep, Marie Antoinette sits up straight and keeps her gaze fixed ahead. She doesn't speak to the priest sitting beside her and does her best to ignore the jeers of the thousands of gleeful spectators.

Eventually she arrives at the Place de la Révolution, the largest square in Paris, adjacent to her former home of the Tuileries. the largest square in Paris, adjacent to her former home of the Tuileries. Dominating the square is an enormous Statue of Liberty, represented seated on a rock, a red cap on her head, a spear in her hand. In her shadow stands the guillotine. The cart pulls up next to the scaffold and Marie Antoinette climbs out and begins her ascent up the wooden stairs. She doesn't try to run or bargain. Her long suffering is now close to its end.

The faces in the crowd, held back by guardsmen, are a blur to her. But as the towering structure of the guillotine looms ahead, for a moment fear descends. Stepping back, Marie Antoinette treads on the executioner's foot. Her final words are an apology. Her head is placed in the lunette, the U-shaped board that is named for its shape like a crescent moon. The other half is closed on her neck. The guillotine falls just after midday. The head of the former queen is held up to the ecstatic crowds.

The body of the former queen is thrown in a communal grave, but not before a young woman called Marie Grossholz makes a death mask of her face. When she marries in two years' time, she will become Madame Tussaud, later in life the proprietor of a waxworks museum in London. The Chamber of Horrors at her famous collection will include exhibits made from death masks of victims of the French Revolution, including, of course, the ill-fated Queen of France. The execution of Marie Antoinette further enrages revolutionary France's enemies.

The reign of terror continues to escalate. Under the auspices of the Committee of Public Safety, led by Robespierre and Danton, thousands of people are arrested, tried, and executed in the name of revolutionary justice. Death carts rattle through the streets of Paris, and the Committee's spies are everywhere. Paranoia sweeps through the city. The Law of Suspects, a decree passed by the Convention that autumn, defines those who can now potentially be subject to arrest and potential execution. The many categories include returning aristocratic émigré and their family. But other criteria for being labeled a suspect are deliberately vague. They can extend to anyone perceived as not actively supporting the new government, or those believed to have demonstrated counter-revolutionary sentiment.

The victims of the Reign of Terror are diverse. They range from obvious candidates such as the former king's sister to a one-time mistress of his grandfather Louis XV. But even common criminals can now be seen as enemies of the state. Indeed, even something as small as a kind word about the former king, or use of the old terms monsieur or madame instead of the egalitarian citizen, can have dire consequences. Catholic priests are again considered to be supporters of the old regime and suffer continued persecution as a result. The authorities initiate a policy of de-Christianization to remove the influence of the Catholic Church and promote revolutionary ideology. Churches are desecrated, and streets bearing religious references like the word saint are renamed. A revolutionary calendar replaces the old Christian one. Now,

the months are named after nature and the seasons. Floriel occurs in spring, Thermidor in summer. Each month of thirty days is divided into three 10-day weeks, called decades. And the decimalization doesn't stop there. The days are now formed of 10 hours, which are in turn divided into 100 decimal minutes of 100 seconds each. History itself is reset, with years numbered from when France officially became a republic. What most of the world calls September 22, 1792, is now determined to be the first day of year one. At this point, France's fortunes seem to change. At the end of December 1793, the British forces supporting the royalist rebels in Toulon, on the Mediterranean coast, are driven away. Playing an important role in

this success is a little-known artillery officer in the French Revolutionary Army by the name of Napoleon Bonaparte. Further afield, there has been a developing situation in the Caribbean French colony of Saint-Domingue. Inspired by France's revolutionary principles, enslaved individuals and free people of color have staged their own revolution. Their arguments persuade the French Republic to outlaw slavery in its colonies in February 1794. Not everything that the revolutionaries did within that time period was about terror. They did many humanitarian things as well, like the abolition of slavery in the French colonies.

By spring 1794, the Republic is free from foreign occupation. The reign of terror has achieved its goals. So can its steely grip now be loosened? Former allies Danton and Robespierre disagree on this point. Danton advocates for a relaxation of the purging, but Robespierre thinks his old friend is being too moderate. For the idealist Robespierre, the concepts of virtue and terror are intertwined. Terror without virtue, he says, is disastrous, but virtue without terror is powerless. What Robespierre dreams of is a republic of virtue.

By virtue, he means commitment to the common good, civic duty, and self-sacrifice for the benefit of the nation. In contrast, the pleasure-seeker Danton jokes that virtue is what he does every night in bed with his wife. Robespierre insists on continuing the harsh measures to protect the revolution. Soon, the fallout between the two old friends grows deadly. On April 2, 1794, Danton is accused of treason and sent to trial. The powerful speaker argues his case eloquently, but to no avail. Three days later, Danton meets his end at the guillotine. Just before the blade falls, he exclaims that his only regret is that he's going

before the man he calls that rat Robespierre. The revolution is devouring its own children. The terror intensifies, with the guillotine pausing only for festivities in June 1794. For a single day, what the people call the National Razor is dismantled and put away for a celebration of the new civic religion, Festival of the Supreme Being. It is the brainchild of Robespierre, who has concerns about the effects of dechristianization and the growing number of atheists. He thinks people need something to believe in, a replacement for the traditional Catholic Church. By introducing a new civic religion centered around the supreme being,

Robespierre and his supporters aim to create a sense of national unity and loyalty to the revolutionary government. The religion is arguably a strange marriage, merging both Catholic and Enlightenment values. Its adherents believe in a creator and the immortality of the soul, alongside republican sentiments and an emphasis on virtue. It is five o'clock in the morning on June the 8th, 1794, what would have been the day of Pentecost in the old calendar. The sound of drums rouses Maximilian Robespierre from a light sleep. Today, the whole city is being woken early to give the people a chance to decorate their homes with wreaths of oak and laurel, tricolor ribbons and flowers.

Too excited for breakfast, Robespierre dresses carefully in a sky-blue coat, tricolor sash and powdered wig. Checking his reflection in a mirror, he adds the finishing touch of a plumed hat, and then he's ready. The man they call the Incorruptible strides out into a sunlit morning. It is going to be a good day. At eight o'clock, a cannon is fired to call delegates to their marching positions. Robespierre makes his way to the Jardin National, beside the Tuileries Palace, where today's celebrations will begin. By the time he reaches the garden, a crowd is gathering. The landscape is dominated by a vast papier-mâché statue representing atheism, a misshapen figure with donkey's ears.

When everyone has gathered, Robespierre surveys the sunlit scene. Women with roses in their hair, men in hats decorated with leaves. He clears his throat and makes a speech in praise of the Supreme Being, which is followed by a performance from the choir. Then the moment arrives. He must set the statue of atheism alight. Stepping forward to receive the lighted torch, he touches the flames to the statue. It catches instantly, and as the representation of atheism disintegrates into ash,

another statue is revealed within. This one, met with an eruption of cheering from the crowd, represents wisdom. The seated female figure, made of plaster overlaid with fireproof clay, is a little scorched, but still in one piece. Robespierre breathes a sigh of relief that the magic trick has worked and, after the smoke has cleared, he makes another speech. Then it is time for the celebratory parade through the city. Accompanied by the military band, the procession sets off with Robespierre as the president of the convention at its head. First they pass through the Place de la Révolution, where the guillotine has been removed for the day. The cobblestones have even been scrubbed of blood, but Robespierre can't

resist a glance down. There are still faint traces of red staining the ground beneath his feet. Next, the route takes them over the Seine, its many boats covered in flags. Next, the route takes them over the Seine, its many boats covered in flags. But the best is yet to come. On reaching the Champs de la Réunion, the procession pools around the base of an enormous man-made mountain. 120 feet long and 30 feet high, it is covered in greenery and flowers. And right at its peak is a liberty tree, beside Hercules on a tall pillar, a representation of the people. Now Robespierre leads a delegation up the mountain.

Officials, soldiers and citizens, nursing mothers holding babies, members of the convention, plus an orchestra and choir, follow the man who has become the nation's leader. Standing on the highest platform, he squints against the sun to survey the sea of faces gazing up at him. He notices their expressions, a mixture of reverence and, in some cases, skepticism. Robespierre remains impassive. Certainly, there are those in the convention accusing him of tyranny, of playing God, but he won't let them affect this perfect day. At the top of the artificial peak, he begins his carefully crafted oration, and tries not to think about how, from here, the only way is down. What Robespierre doesn't know is that the festival of the supreme being will mark a

turning point in his own political fortunes. It will lead to the twilight of his influence and the dawn of a new chapter in the French Revolution. Since the death of Danton, there has been dissent in the National Convention and murmurs that Robespierre is acting like a dictator. His downfall finally comes in late July 1794. He delivers a speech in the National Convention in which he accuses his political opponents of conspiracy.

But he makes the mistake of naming only three deputies in a cryptic address that seems to incriminate many others. With everyone else terrified that their own names will be denounced at a later point, the tide turns against him. Robespierre, his brother, and several of his close associates are arrested and kept under watch in the city hall. When shots ring out early the next morning, guards race to the scene. One of the prisoners has jumped out of the window, another has shot himself. Whether it's an accident or suicide attempt, Robespierre has a bullet wound to the face, his jaw is shattered, and the famous orator is silenced. Robespierre and his associates are sentenced to death for crimes against the people.

As they are prepared for the guillotine, in a cell at the conciergerie prison, one of his friends gestures to the Declaration of theie prison, one of his friends gestures to the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen hanging on the wall. At least we did that, he says. With the death of Robespierre, the terror is over. Or is it? Robespierre, the terror is over. Or is it? It's hard to say exactly when the terror ended,

but the general view is that these laws that enable terror begin to be wound down after the fall of Robespierre in the summer of 1794. It's also the time when France has won a big military victory over the invading armies. And from that point on, they don't need that violence so much, that internal violence. And they are happy to divest themselves of it, not least because many of the deputies themselves died under the guillotine. In 1795, yet another form of government is in place. In 1795, yet another form of government is in place. Established in reaction to the excesses of the Reign of Terror,

the Directory is a five-member executive government which aims to provide more stability. But it is not flawless. Within four years, the French government is again in disarray, threatened by corruption and factionalism. Recognizing an opportunity when he sees one, Napoleon Bonaparte, now a general, stages a coup that leads to the dissolution of the Directory. What takes place is yet another new government, the Consulate. Robert Speer had warned of the dangers of this. He said, you will have a Julius Caesar, you will have an Oliver Cromwell who will set himself up.

And there were a number of generals who wanted to set themselves up in political power. The one who was successful, the one we remember, is Napoleon Bonaparte. And he was both very lucky and very astute in how he managed his situation. As first consul, Napoleon becomes the de facto ruler of France. But that's not enough for the man nicknamed the Little Corporal by his soldiers. In May 1804, he crowns himself emperor under the name of Napoleon I. Like his hero Julius Caesar, he offers his rule as a stable alternative to the murderous

turmoil that preceded it. If there is a whiff of hypocrisy about crowning himself emperor, he can argue that in his case it is meritocracy at work rather than the hereditary aristocracy of the old regime. After a series of military victories, Napoleon signed the Treaty of Tilsit in 1807 with Russia and Prussia, effectively dividing Europe into French and Russian spheres of influence. dividing Europe into French and Russian spheres of influence. But it marks a high point in the emperor's power. Within a few years, various conflicts culminate in a disastrous invasion of Russia in 1812, and he tumbles from grace. Napoleon abdicates and is exiled to the island of Elba between Corsica and Italy in 1814. The next year he escapes and returns to power for what historians

will call later the Hundred Days. His comeback is short-lived. Defeated by the British at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, he is exiled again. He'll spend the rest of his life on the remote island of St. Helena in the South Atlantic Ocean. rest of his life on the remote island of St. Helena in the South Atlantic Ocean. By the time Napoleon falls, decades have passed since the revolution first called for the end of the monarchy. The major European powers are keen to restore stability to post-Napoleonic Europe. It's time for a king to return to France. Louis XVI's son, he who was manipulated into accusations against his mother, is long since dead from tuberculosis. So now the period called the Bourbon Restoration sees the throne go to Louis' brother. But that is not the end of the story. Other revolutions follow in France in 1830, 1848, 1871, and even 1968.

Some see these later revolutions as a continuation of what began at the time of the Tennis Court Oath and the storming of the Bastille. Some people say that the French Revolution ended with the fall of Robespierre in July 1794, because that saw the end of the most radical phase of the French Revolution. Other people, other historians say that it ended with the military coup by which Napoleon came to power, November 1799. But Napoleon said for some time that he was continuing the French Revolution, but under other means. He said the French Revolution had been given to the care of an emperor. So some people would say the French Revolution went on until the final overthrow of Napoleon in Waterloo, 1815. Some people say the French Revolution is still going on because there were other revolutions in France afterwards.

Some people say the French Revolution is still going on because there were other revolutions in France afterwards. Far from being a contained moment in history, the ramifications of the French Revolution extend far beyond national borders. Its lessons are learned by the thinkers of the coming centuries, and its leaders too. So for Karl Marx, for example, he thinks that all history is the history of class struggle and that they should have been much tougher. And Lenin, of course, takes lessons

from the French Revolution, but he also thinks that they were weak. And the first thing they should do if you're having a revolution is to take hold of the money, close down the banks, tell anybody who might be in your way to be utterly ruthless. So people learn lessons from the French Revolution, but they are different lessons depending on what their political perspective is. The French Revolution tore up the old order of things, getting rid of the aristocracy, the king, even rethinking religion. The way in which we understand politics now, in terms of left and right, comes from the French Revolution and where the deputies sat in the assemblies,

according to their political allegiances. Many of the revolution's ideals, though radical at the time, have slowly been integrated into politics worldwide. radical at the time, have slowly been integrated into politics worldwide. In 1948, when the United Nations sets out a framework of rights for all people, it's actually modelled quite closely on the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen that was framed by the French revolutionaries in 1789. Many of those principles still stand. The idea that people have rights over and above the specific laws of a country,

rights to existence, right to live freely, is very important. The French Revolution endures, then, in our daily lives and conversations. But is it possible to make a clear-eyed assessment of its legacy, even now? Did it truly achieve its aims? And can its end, if indeed it has one, be justified by the terrifying means that achieved it? Perhaps, as Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai is reputed to have claimed in 1972, it is still too early to say. Next time on Short History Of, we'll bring you a short history of the real pirates of the Caribbean.

Why do we look upon pirates as these colorful characters, good-natured rapscallions operating on the open ocean, as opposed to looking at them as what they were and what they are today, which is thieves, not romantic at all. Perhaps people want to abstract the image of, you know, getting rid of their job, going on the open ocean,

searching for treasure, getting drunk when they want to, wine, women, and song. I mean, in the abstract, it was a very alluring image. That's next time.