This Day in History

July 6, 1809

:

Napoleon Seizes the Pope

  

 

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

  

Talleyrand

Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord had until 1807 been Napoleon's minister of foreign affairs. To Talleyrand, the emperor had entrusted negotiations with the pope and other diplomatic missions. Yet Napoleon had never trusted Talleyrand (whom he had called a "turd in a silk stocking") and so had finally dismissed him from the ministry. Insulted and resentful -- and moreover, in deep disagreement with Napoleon's policies -- Talleyrand contemplated treachery.

Reports that Talleyrand had been meeting frequently with Fouché, the head of the secret police, had brought Napoleon back to Paris. If those two were friends, thought Napoleon, trouble was brewing. Calling Talleyrand before him, Napoleon berated him. "You are a thief, a coward, a man without honor," said the emperor. "You do not believe in God; you have all your life been a traitor to your duties . . . You deserve that I should smash you like a wineglass. I can do it, but I despise you too much to take the trouble." But though he mistrusted Talleyrand, Napoleon kept him as one of his advisors. Talleyrand, however, did not forget the emperor's insult.

Franz I, emperor of Austria

Meanwhile, Austria and Great Britain had been forming a new coalition. The French disasters in Spain and the continuing presence of large numbers of French troops there convinced Emperor Franz I that he could regain what he had lost in Germany. So, on April 9, Austria and Great Britain formed the Fifth Coalition, and the Austrian army prepared for an invasion of Bavaria.

In Paris on April 12, Napoleon learned that the Austrians had crossed the River Inn and entered Bavaria. As ever, he wasted no time but began gathering his widely separated armies and moving them into Germany. Only five days later, Napoleon was in his camp at Donäuwurth in Bavaria.

During April, Napoleon beat the Austrians in battle after battle -- at Abensberg, Landshut, and Eckmühl. On April 23, Napoleon ordered the storming of Regensburg and took the city despite the brave resistance of the Austrian cavalry. Finally, on May 3, Napoleon defeated the Austrians at Ebelsberg and forced them to cross to the north side of the Danube. Vienna, Austria's capital, now lay open to Napoleon. On May 13, writing from the Schönbrunn Palace in the Austrian capital, the French emperor boasted, "We are master of Vienna."

Though the war was far from over, at Schönbrunn Napoleon enjoyed a brief break from fighting. He now could turn his mind to matters he had been neglecting -- and one of these was the pope. On May 17, Napoleon decreed that the pope no longer deserved to rule, because he had abused his temporal authority -- which, Napoleon said, the popes had received from Charlemagne, "our august predecessor." The pope's temporal power, said Napoleon, was forever abolished; the Papal States were to be joined to the French Empire.

Schoenbrunn Palace

On June 10, 1809, General Miollis in Rome published Napoleon's decree abolishing the pope's government. He then ordered the lowering of the flag displaying the papal arms over Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome and the raising of the French tricolor flag. Pope Pius VII first learned of the decree from his secretary of state Cardinal Bartolomeo Pacca. Pacca delivered the long-expected news, and both he and the pope exclaimed, Consummatum est! --"It is finished."

The pope had known that Napoleon's decree would come and, at Pacca's urging, had already prepared a response. He would use the most powerful weapon he possessed, excommunication.

Soon after the decree abolishing the pope's rule had been published, copies of a papal bull began to appear throughout Rome. Some with astonishment, others in fear, and still others with rejoicing read the document declaring that the Supreme Pontiff and Vicar of Christ, Pius VII, had excommunicated the emperor of France, Napoleon Bonaparte, for violating the rights of the Church. "We pray," the bull said, "that those men will come to see that according to the law of Christ they are subject to our throne, and are placed under our supremacy. For we also have a kingdom and a far better one, and it would be absurd to say that the spirit must obey the flesh, the heavenly obey the earthly."

But excommunication or no excommunication, the earthly power was not about to obey the heavenly one. Upon learning of the bull on June 20, Napoleon sat down and wrote to the king of Naples, Joachim Murat. "So, the pope has aimed an excommunication against me," wrote Napoleon. "No more half measures; he is a raving lunatic who must be confined."

The Quirinal Palace in Rome, in the mid-18th century

So, at 3 o'clock on the morning of July 6, 1809, French soldiers surrounded the Quirinal in Rome. The pope, knowing what would come, had ordered the Swiss guards not to resist; and so no struggle announced the coming of the enemy. After learning that the palace was surrounded, the Spanish Cardinal Despuigs y Dameto went to inform the pope. Entering the papal apartment, Despuigs found Pius already awake. Turning to the cardinal, Pius said, "It's all over with us now." Seeing Pius was afraid, the stouthearted Despuigs replied, "Your Holiness knows that today is the octave of the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul. People expect that Your Holiness will give an example of courage."

"Your Eminence is right," the pope replied.

Pius VII

Meanwhile, forcing his way into the palace, the French General Radet ordered his men to break down the pope's door. Upon entering the room, he found the pope at his desk, surrounded by several cardinals. At first overcome with awe (he later said seeing the pope made him recall his first Communion), Radet recovered himself enough to demand that the pope abdicate. Pius replied that he would not and could not give up the authority he had from God. Radet then gave the pope and Cardinal Pacca two hours to prepare themselves for a journey. A carriage was to take them to General Miollis, he said.

But Radet had lied. The carriage carrying himself, the pope, and Cardinal Pacca did not go to Miollis, but passed out of the city gates and into the open country. The pope was going into exile; where, he did not know. He could not say what sufferings lay ahead, but he was at peace. He and Pacca had left Rome with very few belongings and almost no money. When they counted what was in their purses, they found it came to only 35 baiocchi -- a very small sum. Turning to Radet with a self-mocking smile, the pope showed him the handful of coins. "There, you see," he told the general. "This is what is left to me of my kingdom."

And, while the powers fought...

  

The Austrian composer, Joseph Haydn, died in May of 1809, not long after Napoleon occupied Vienna. Haydn was living at the time in Vienna, and it is said that as Napoleon attacked the city, the composer comforted his servants, saying, "My children, have no fear, for where Haydn is, no harm can fall." This piece is a recording of his famous oratorio, The Creation, which Haydn composed between 1796 and 1798.

This Day in History

July 4, 1846:

Independence Day in Sonoma

  

This text comes from our fiifth to seventh grade textbook, From Sea to Shining Sea: The Story of America. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

The Americans who had settled in California were not happy living under Mexican laws and government. Since the Americans had settled in California without permission, they were worried that the Mexicans might force them to leave.

An 1846 map of the West,
showing Texas' disputed territorial claims
and the putative extent of Mexican California (in pink)

Besides, like the Texians, Americans in California wanted to live under the laws of the United States. They thought, as well, that the Mexicans had no right to California, since, the settlers believed, it was the destiny of the United States to possess the land. So it was that at least some of the American settlers were looking for an opportunity to revolt against Mexico, just as the Texians had done several years earlier.

The opportunity came in early June 1846. News had reached Frémont, who was then at Sutter's fort, that General Castro had sent some of his soldiers to a ranch near Sonoma to gather 200 horses. The ranch was owned by a wealthy Mexican Californian named Mariano Vallejo. The Americans thought that Castro was gathering the horses in order to attack them. To stop Castro, an American named Ezekiel Merritt rode out with some of Frémont's men to capture the horses from the Mexican soldiers. After capturing the horses, Merritt returned with them to Frémont's camp. There, gathering 21 men, Merritt again rode out, this time toward Sonoma.

Mariano Vallejo, about 1841

In the early morning hours of Sunday, June 14, Mariano Vallejo awoke to find his house surrounded by Ezekiel Merritt and his men. The Americans were a mean-looking group, and Vallejo decided he had no choice but to surrender to them. Merritt made Vallejo a prisoner and led him to Frémont at Sutter's fort.

The capture of Mariano Vallejo was the beginning of a revolt, led by an American settler named William Ide. Ide declared that California was now an independent country. He also made a flag for this new country; it was white, with one red stripe along the bottom and a red star in the upper left-hand corner. To the right of the star was the image of a grizzly bear, under which were written the words, "California Republic." Because of this flag, Ide's revolt became known as the Bear Flag Revolt. Ide raised this flag over the plaza (or public square) in Sonoma on the same day Mariano Vallejo was taken prisoner by Merritt.

The original design of California's "Bear 

Flag." (Some at the time of the flag's 

adoption thought the top right image looked more like  a pig than a bear.)

General Castro heard of the revolt three days after the raising of the bear flag and began gathering an army to crush the rebellion. Meanwhile, Frémont left Sutter's fort and came to Sonoma, where he took command of the "Bears," as the Americans were called. On July 4, Frémont and the Bears celebrated American Independence day in Sonoma with the booming of a cannon, a Spanish dance, and the reading of the Declaration of Independence.

In joining the Bears, Frémont had not had the open support of the United States government. Like the Texians, the Americans in California had carried out their revolt all by themselves. Perhaps Castro could have crushed the Bear Flag Revolt, but on July 7, 1846, everything changed. Commodore John Drake Sloat, who commanded the Pacific squadron of the United States Navy, sailed into Monterey harbor and took control of the Mexican capital of California. The fact that an American naval commander did this could mean only one thing: the United States and Mexico were at war.

Commodore Sloat raises the American flag over Monterey.

This Day in History

June 28, 1914

:

The Spark that ignited 

a World War

   

This month, we commemorate the first centenary of the event that proved to be the catalyst of the First World War-- the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. This following account of this tragic event comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

  

Emperor Franz Josef in 1910

By 1914, Franz Josef had reigned for 65 years over Austria-Hungary -- the third-longest reign in European history. Having come to the throne after the 1848 revolutions, Franz Josef had been a determined opponent of Liberal parliamentarian government. And though he eventually established a parliament for Austria and approved universal suffrage, Franz Josef remained what he called himself -- the last of Europe's traditional kings.

 

In his private life, Franz Josef had suffered many tragedies. In 1867, Mexican revolutionaries had executed his younger brother, Ferdinand Maximilian, who had become emperor of Mexico with the help of Emperor Napoleon III of France. Then, in 1889, Franz Josef's only son and heir, Archduke Rudolf, committed suicide. Eight years later, an Italian anarchist assassinated the emperor's wife, Elisabeth of Bavaria. To Franz Josef, a shy, lonely man with few friends, Elisabeth had given companionship, affection, and support. Suddenly she was gone. "The world does not know how much we loved one another," said Franz Josef.

Archduke Franz Ferdinand

Since Archduke Rudolf had been Franz Josef's only son, his death meant that the next in line to the throne was the emperor's nephew, Archduke Franz Ferdinand von Österreich-Este. Franz Josef was not fond of his nephew. Franz Ferdinand could be proud and impatient; he also was critical of how the empire was ruled. The archduke thought the oppression of Slavs and Romanians in the kingdom of Hungary threatened the future of the Habsburg monarchy. Franz Ferdinand wanted to transform the Dual Monarchy into a "Triple Monarchy" with a Slavic kingdom separate from both Austria and Hungary.

Though Franz Josef sincerely had the good of all his subjects at heart, he knew the Magyar nobles who controlled the Hungarian diet would strongly oppose the formation of a separate Slavic kingdom. The emperor feared that a struggle with the Magyars would end in separating Hungary entirely from the empire. The emperor thus was convinced that Austria-Hungary had to remain what it was -- the Dual Monarchy. 

Europe in 1914

More vexing to Franz Josef than Franz Ferdinand's political ideas, however, was the archduke's announcement of his engagement to a Czech countess, Sophie Chotek. Franz Josef objected to the countess not because she was Czech but because, even though she was nobility, she was related to no royal family. An old-fashioned royalist, Franz Josef insisted that Franz Ferdinand marry into one of Europe's royal houses.

Franz Ferdinand, Duchess Sophie,
and their children 

Deeply in love with Sophie, Franz Ferdinand refused to give her up. At last, the emperor gave way. Franz Ferdinand could marry Sophie Chotek, but on one condition -- that none of their children could inherit the imperial throne. Franz Ferdinand agreed, and he and Sophie were married on July 1, 1900. The emperor, however, refused to attend the ceremony....

Not only were Sophie and Franz Ferdinand's children barred from inheriting the Austro-Hungarian thrones, but Sophie herself was given none of the respect accorded to the wife of a crown prince. The emperor, it is true, gave her the title, Duchess of Hohenberg, which allowed her to be addressed as "Her Highness"; but in all state ceremonies and gatherings, she could not sit with her husband. Only when Franz Ferdinand acted as a military leader could she be treated as the true wife of her husband.

So when, in June 1914, Franz Ferdinand went to observe the maneuvers of the Austrian army in Bosnia, he took Sophie with him. In the Bosnian capital of Sarajevo, the couple could be free from the snubs of the imperial court in Vienna. Franz Ferdinand could appear in state with his beloved wife beside him.

Colonel Dragutin Dimitriejević

In March, leaders of the Serbian terrorist group, the Black Hand, had learned of Franz Ferdinand's planned trip to Sarajevo. Serbian nationalists feared the archduke because his plan to grant Slavs equal status to Austrians and Hungarians in the empire might make Croatians and Slavonians too content with Habsburg rule and thus make them less willing to form a Yugoslav kingdom with Serbia. In Serbia's capital, Belgrade, Colonel Dragutin Dimitriejević, the head of the Central Committee of the Black Hand, came up with a plan to assassinate Franz Ferdinand when he arrived in Sarajevo. Dimitriejević, known by the code name Apis ("Bee"), prepared three young Bosnians for the task: Gavrilo Princip (age 19), Nedjelko Čabrinović (age 18), and Trifko Grabez (also 18). These men were smuggled across the border, from Serbia into Bosnia, and reached Sarajevo about a month before the archduke's scheduled visit.

When the Serbian government, which was well informed about the Black Hand's activities, learned of the plot to assassinate Franz Ferdinand, it ordered Apis to halt it. Apis made some attempt to recall the three young men to Serbia; but, it seems, the effort was only halfhearted. There was still plenty of time to call off the plot, but nothing further was done. Serbian Prime Minister Nikola Pasić did tell the Serbian ambassador in Vienna to warn the Austrian government about the planned assassination attempt, though without mentioning the Black Hand; but the ambassador's warning was not very clear, and the Austrian minister to whom he gave the warning simply ignored it.

Franz Ferdinand and Sophie in Sarajevo

 Franz Ferdinand and Sophie's visit to Bosnia began as a happy one, for most of the Bosnians who came out to see the crown prince and his consort warmly welcomed them. On the morning of June 28, 1914, Franz Ferdinand and Sophie together reviewed the troops and then, at about 10:00 a.m., proceeded in a motorcade of about six cars to the Sarajevo city hall. The cars passed down the city's main street, which ran along the Miljacka River. It was on this street that Princip, Čabrinović, and Grabez, along with four other Black Hand assassins, were mingling with the crowd that had come out to watch the archduke's passing.

 

Nedjelko Čabrinović

Čabrinović made the first attempt on the archduke. Taking a bomb from his coat pocket, he hurled it at Franz Ferdinand's car; but the bomb missed its target, exploded in the street behind the car and injured several bystanders. Somewhat ruffled by the event, Franz Ferdinand and Sophie continued on to the mayor's palace, where the mayor gave them a formal welcome.

Gavrilo Princip

Following the reception, the motorcade continued along its route, but the archduke's car took a wrong turn, down Franz Josef Street. Realizing his mistake, the driver stopped the car in order to turn around -- only a few feet away from Gavrilo Princip, who had just stepped out of a sandwich shop. Seeing his chance, Princip pulled out his gun, and, walking up to the car, fired at both the archduke and Sophie, hitting him in the neck and her in the stomach. As the car sped way, headed toward the governor's palace, the injured Franz Ferdinand turned to Sophie and, seeing her collapse, cried out, "Sophie! Sophie! Do not die! Stay alive for our children!"

 

Sophie died before reaching the governor's palace, and Franz Ferdinand did not long survive her.

The bodies of Franz Ferdinand and Sophie lying in state

This Day in History

June 18, 1815:

Waterloo

  

This text comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

  

Napoleon Bonaparte

Following his return to the imperial throne, Napoleon failed to make peace with the allies. He had offered to respect the boundaries of France drawn up by the Congress of Vienna if it would recognize his government; but the allies ignored him and resolved on war. Perhaps Napoleon's greatest sorrow, however, was the Austrian court's refusal to return his son to him. And very bitter too was the news that Empress Maria Louisa had sworn never to see Napoleon again.

Though sorrow had seemed to rob Napoleon of some of his old energy, he did not neglect preparations for the war he knew would come. By June, he had gathered an army of 200,000 men. On June 12, Napoleon left Paris to lead this army against the Seventh (and last) Coalition of his foes. They had gathered an army of 500,000 in Belgium in order to rid Europe, once and for all, of Napoleon Bonaparte.

Wellington

Three days after leaving Paris, Napoleon and his army crossed the Sambre River into Belgium. Knowing he was outnumbered by the enemy, Napoleon's strategy was to drive his army between the allied armies of the English general, Arthur Wellesley, the duke of Wellington, and the Prussian field marshal, Gebhard Blücher. After defeating one, Napoleon hoped to turn and fight the other.

On June 16, near the village of Ligny, Napoleon and 80,000 of his men joined battle with 84,000 Prussians under Blücher. The battle was a victory for Napoleon, but an incomplete one. The French had inflicted 24,000 casualties on the Prussians while losing only 11,000 of their own men. But instead of fleeing toward Namur, as Napoleon thought they would, the remaining Prussians turned north, to where Wellington was encamped with about 70,000 men near the town of Waterloo.

Blücher

On the same day as the Battle of Ligny, Wellington had fought about 20,000 French under Marshal Michel Ney at Quatre-Bras, but neither side was victorious. On June 17, the day following the battle, Wellington withdrew his army to a ridge lying to the south of Waterloo. There he gathered 68,000 men and awaited 89,000 more coming from the west, under Blücher. On the morning of June 18, Napoleon formed up his army, 105,000 strong, on the battlefield below the ridge as well as on the heights opposite Wellington's position.

The Battle of Waterloo began in late morning of June 18, 1815, with a bombardment of Wellington's position. Throughout the course of the day, French attempts to break through the allied lines failed, while Wellington's numbers grew and grew with the addition of troops from Blücher. But about 6 p.m., Marshal Ney gained an important allied position and, setting up his guns, began bombarding the center of the enemy line. Ney sent pleas to Napoleon to send in the best of his troops, the Imperial Guard, to break the allied center. But an hour passed before the Guard could reach Ney, and by that time Wellington had been able to send in more troops to strengthen his line.

Battle of Waterloo

About 7 p.m., the Imperial Guard was ready to attack Wellington's center. Marching in two great columns, the Guard slammed into the allied lines -- only to find themselves met by some of Wellington's best infantry, rising from the corn where they had lain hidden. From three sides, the British infantry, dressed all in scarlet, fired deadly volleys into the Imperial Guard. And just as the French were reeling under this blow, a corps of Prussians, newly arrived, joined in the attack. The Guard was now forced to retreat, while rumors of treason passed among Napoleon's men.

"Save yourselves who can!" These words ran like quicksilver through the French lines. Seeing the enemy beginning to break, Wellington ordered his whole line to charge -- and charge they did, letting out a mighty cheer that filled the evening air with grandeur. The French were now in full flight, and Napoleon himself barely escaped capture by the Prussians.

Morning after Waterloo

"I ought to have died at Waterloo," Napoleon said afterward; but, he added, "the misfortune is that, when a man seeks death most, he cannot find it. Men were killed around me, before, behind, everywhere. But there was no bullet for me." That day, the allies lost 22,000 men, a great loss; but Napoleon's loss was far greater -- 41,000, almost all of them veterans. His army was destroyed, his reputation as an invincible commander gone forever. Napoleon did not die at Waterloo, but his empire did. Napoleon, as well as anyone else, knew this; and, fearing that if he held on to power, France would be plunged into civil war, he signed his second abdication on June 22, 1815, passing the throne to his son. Napoleon then went into hiding.

In his place of concealment, Napoleon contemplated fleeing to the United States. Somewhere on the North American continent, he thought, he could gather his relatives and companions together and form the beginnings of a new French nation. But this dream ended when it became clear that any ship he sailed on could never escape the British warships patrolling the French coast. With America thus closed to him, Napoleon made a strange resolve -- he would seek refuge with his old enemy, England. Confident that the English would show him hospitality, he set sail on the ship Bellerophon and, in late July, put into port at Plymouth, on England's southern coast.

Napoleon on board the Bellerophon

The news that Napoleon was at Plymouth threw the British government into a panic. What should be done with him? Certainly he could not remain in England -- but where should he go? On July 30, Napoleon learned with dismay and anger what the British government had planned for him. He would not be given hospitality in England but be sent, as a prisoner, to St. Helena, a barren, windswept island in the southern Atlantic, 600 miles off the coast of Africa. Napoleon was bitterly angry, but also in despair. He could hardly bear the thought of such an exile, and he contemplated suicide. But considering it was the part of a great man to bear his fate to the end, he decided not to end his life.

Thus, on August 7, 1815, Napoleon Bonaparte set sail on the HMSNorthumberland from Portland harbor, bound for St. Helena. For 10 weeks the Northumberland sailed until, on the evening of October 15, she arrived off the coast of the jagged, rocky island of St. Helena. A day later, Napoleon stepped onto the shore of what would henceforth be his home. He would never again as a living man see France -- nor the face of brother, sister, mother, wife, or child. But for a few companions, he was quite alone. His mighty empire had crumbled, leaving nothing behind but a grand dream and a memory.

A Song of Napoleon's Fall

This song is a musical setting by the German composer, Robert Schumann (1810-1856), of a poem by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) --Die Beiden Grenadiere ("The Two Grenadiers"). It expresses what many soldiers of France's First Empire must have felt after Waterloo and their emperor's capture by the British. This video features the tenor, Juan Borja, and Sergo Bungs, piano. It has subtitles in English. 

This Day in History

June 10, 1734 

:

The King Condemns Voltaire

  

This text comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

  

  

Voltaire in 1736

In the Paris salon of the Duchess of Maine, François-Marie Arouet began the literary career that would make him the most famous philosophe in Europe. The year was 1715, and Arouet had just returned to Paris from The Hague in the Netherlands. Arouet had mixed with aristocratic freethinkers before going to The Hague; for though he belonged to the middle class, his mother had friends among the nobility.

  

The Duchess of Maine's salon was a distinguished one, but also quite dangerous for a young man like Arouet. The Duchess was a bitter enemy of the Duke of Orléans (the regent of King Louis XV, who in 1715 was still only a boy). Under the duchess's influence, Arouet wrote poems mocking the regent -- a dangerous thing to do, as Arouet soon learned. Because of his lampoons, Arouet was forced to leave Paris in May 1716. Shortly afterward, he was allowed to return; but in 1717 he was arrested and sent to the Bastille. Some anonymous lampoons had surfaced, and the government thought Arouet had written them.

  

Arouet might have gotten on better if he had followed his father's advice and become a lawyer. But the young man loved literature, especially stage plays, and he was eager to earn fame as a writer. While in the Bastille, he spent his time working on two plays that he hoped to publish under a pen name he had chosen for himself -- Arouet de Voltaire.

The Bastille in the late 18th century

Voltaire saw the first of his plays performed at the Théatre Français after his release from the Bastille in April 1718. The play was a great success. Other plays followed; some successful, others not. But Voltaire did not just rely on his plays and other literary works to make a living. Throughout his life, he engaged in financial speculation and investments. He courted aristocrats and used flattery to gain their favor. Voltaire eventually became a wealthy man -- wealthier than many a nobleman whose favor he had sought in his younger days. Indeed, many of these noblemen, under heavy debt, would take loans from Voltaire to pay off their creditors.

  

Yet Voltaire, it seems, could not control his often bitter, sarcastic tongue. In 1725, he insulted an important noble, the Chevalier de Rohan, who had insulted him. Shortly afterward, several men attacked Voltaire and beat him with sticks while Rohan stood by, watching. This was an affront Voltaire could not ignore. He challenged Rohan to a duel, and the chevalier accepted. But on the morning of the duel, police arrested Voltaire and placed him in the Bastille. He remained there two weeks until, at his own request, he was sent from France to England.

John Locke

During his stay in England (1726-1729), Voltaire discovered that English society differed in many ways from that of his native France. Unlike France, England offered freedom of religion, at least to Protestants, and the English government was far more tolerant of freethinking than was the government of Louis XV. And the government of England itself, in Voltaire's mind, offered a superb model of how to keep order and preserve freedom at the same time. England's king was not all-powerful, as was the French king; Parliament, a government by representatives of at least some of the people, severely limited the power of the then reigning King George II. In England, Voltaire discovered the work of the English scientist Isaac Newton and the English philosopher John Locke. Voltaire came to think that Locke showed the way to remedy France's political and religious "tyranny."

  

The title page of Voltaire's Philosophical Letters, 

otherwise known as 

Letters on the English

Though Voltaire left France as a playwright, he returned as a philosopher. He continued to write poems and plays, but along with these he wrote commentaries on politics and, especially, works against religion. The first of these was Philosophical Letters on the English, published in 1732. In this work, Voltaire used his sharp wit to praise England's government and toleration of religion while he attacked the French Church and state. When on June 10, 1734, the government of Louis XV condemned the Philosophical Letters and ordered its author arrested, Voltaire fled Paris to the independent duchy of Lorraine, where he would be safe from French authorities.

  

Inspired by Newton's example, Voltaire set up a laboratory at Cirey, his estate in Lorraine, and performed experiments. He continued to write dramas and poetry, but turned more and more to works on science, philosophy, and politics. None of these works offered any original ideas, but they made Liberal ideas more popular and spread Locke's political ideas among the philosophes in France. Voltaire's clear, witty, and refined style could capture a reader's attention, and his cruel satire could make the ideas of his opponents appear ridiculous. Voltaire would stop at almost nothing -- even outright lies (and he told many of them) -- to promote his ideas and destroy those of others. He stopped at nothing to destroy what he called l'infame -- "the infamous one."

  

What was the so-called infamous one? It was what we call religion; Voltaire called it superstition. Voltaire rejected all traditional religion as foolish. Himself a Deist, Voltaire thought everything, including the human soul, was composed of matter; and so he denied the immortality of the soul. Moreover, Voltaire was a rationalist and a proponent of free thought and moral libertinism. Voltaire's chief enemy, however, (the most infamous of all the infamous ones in his mind) was the Catholic Church. The Church, he said, pretended it was the one, true religion just to fool the masses and keep them under the clergy's control.

  

Louis XV

Voltaire thought religion might be fine for ignorant, common people. But, he said, educated men -- and especially rulers -- should look to science and reason, not "superstition," for guidance on how to live in and govern society. A rational and scientific society, according to Voltaire, would not try to crush religion, but it would not promote one religion over another.

  

So it was that Voltaire became perhaps the greatest advocate of religious tolerance in the 18th century. And he proposed other "rational" reforms -- abolishing torture, for instance, and ending the death penalty, at least for offenses such as forgery, theft, and smuggling. Yet Voltaire was not a revolutionary. He opposed democracy, for, he thought, the common man (whom he called canaille -- "the rabble, riffraff") could never be enlightened. His ideal government was an absolute monarch, rather like Louis XIV, but without that king's attachment to "superstition" and persecution of those who did not agree with him. 

Music from the Time of Louis XV 

Performed by Les Concerts de Nations, under the direction of Jordi Savall.

Jordi Savall. Musique au temps de Louis XV.

A Song of the French Revolution

Le Chant du Depart ("The Song of the Departure") was a song written to inspire the French to fight for the French Republic. The music (1794) was by Etienne Nicolas Mehul with words by Marie-Joseph Chenier. 



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