To this wild riot of tumultuous and spectacular enthusiasm an effectual check was soon to be given. With the execution of Louis XVI, in January, 1793, the admiration of the more thoughtful observers of the Revolution, who had accustomed themselves to pass soberly but apologetically over the earlier excesses of the revolutionists as unavoidable concomitants of a struggle necessarily desperate in its character, 1 received a rude shock. 2 The brutal death of a monarch whose personal services on behalf of their own cause during the days of deep necessity had been considerable, brought home to American citizens their first clear conviction respecting the excessively bloody and relentless spirit of the forces in control of the Revolution. The day of disillusionment had dawned. Leaders of thought made no effort to conceal their sense of mingled horror and regret. The amount of popular sympathy for the cause of the Revolution was still too great to allow anything approaching a general condemnation; but none the less a decided chill was felt. 3
- 1 Writings of Thomas Jefferson, vol. vi, pp. 153 et seq.
- 2 From the first, devotion to the French cause had not been quite unanimous. Here and there, scattered through the country, a man might be found who from the beginning of the Revolution had cherished misgivings as to the essential soundness of the principles of the French in the conflict they were waging with despotism. Occasionally a man had ventured to speak out, voicing apprehension and doubt, although usually preferring to adopt the device of pseudonymity. Conspicuous in this by no means large group were the elder and the younger Adams, the former declaring himself in his "Discourses on Davila" (Cf. The Life and Works of John Adams, vol. vi, pp. 223-403), and the latter in the " Publicola " letters, written in 1791, in response to Paine's treatise on "The Rights of Man". Morse, John Quincy Adams, p. 18. But events, much more than political treatises, were to break the spell which the Revolution in its earlier stages cast over the people of America.
- 3 No better testimony concerning the unfavorable impression created by the execution of the French king could be had than that supplied by the comment of Salem's republican minister, the Reverend William Bentley. Under date of March 25, 1793, he wrote: "The melancholy news of the beheading of the 'Roi de France is confirmed in the public opinion, & the event is regretted most sincerely by all thinking people. The french lose much of their influence upon the hearts of the Americans by this event." (Diary, vol. ii, p. 13. Cf. Hazen, Contemporary American Opinion of the French Revolution, pp. 254 et seq.) This thrill of public horror also found expression in the following lines taken from a broadside of the day:
" When Mobs triumphant seize the rheins,
And guide the Car of State, Monarchs will feel the galling chains,
And meet the worst of fate: For instance, view the Gallic shore,
A nation, once polite See what confusion hovers o'er,
A Star, that shone so bright. Then from the scene recoil with dread,
For LOUIS is no more, The barb'rous Mob cut off his head,
And drank the spouting gore. Shall we, the Sons of FREEDOM dare
Against so vile a Race? Unless we mean ourselves to bare (sic)
The palm of their disgrace. No! God forbid, the man who feels
The force of pity's call, To join those Brutes, whose sentence seals,
Whose hearts are made of gall." (The Tragedy of Louis Capet, and Printed next the venerable Stump of Liberty Tree, for J. Plumer, Jun., Trader, of Newbury-port.) (In Vol. 21 of Broadsides, Library of Congress.)
