A Political and Social History of Modern Europe Part 46

THE ENLIGHTENED DESPOTS

The spirit of progress and reform had slowly made itself felt in Great Britain through popular agitation and in Parliament. On the Continent it naturally took a different turn, for there government certainly was not by Parliaments, but by sovereigns "by the Grace of G.o.d." In France, Prussia, Austria, Spain, and Russia, therefore, the question was always, "Will his Majesty be cruel, extravagant, and unprogressive; or will he prove himself an able and liberal-minded monarch?"

[Sidenote: The Era of Benevolent Despotism on the Continent]

It happened during the eighteenth century that most of the Continental rulers were of this latter sort--conscientious and well-meaning. On the thrones of Austria, Prussia, Spain, Portugal, Tuscany, Sardinia, Bavaria, and Sweden sat men of extraordinary ability, who sought rather the welfare of their country than careless personal pleasure.

These were the benevolent despots. They were despots, absolute rulers, countenancing no attempt to diminish royal authority, believing in government by one strong hand rather than by the democratic many. But with despotism they combined benevolence; they were anxious for the glory of their nation, and no less solicitous for the happiness and prosperity of their people. Thus the development of absolute monarchy and the rationalism of the eighteenth century united to produce the benevolent despot. For this reason the term "enlightened" (i.e., philosophical) despot is frequently applied to these autocrats who attempted to rule in the light of reason.

[Sidenote: Frederick the Great of Prussia, 1740-1786]

One of the most successful of the enlightened despots was Frederick II (the Great) of Prussia. In our chapter on the Germanies, [Footnote: See above, ch. xi.] we have seen how he fought all Europe to gain prestige and power for Prussia; we shall now see how he endeavored to apply scientific methods to the government of his own country.

With the major intellectual interests of the eighteenth century, Frederick II became acquainted quite naturally. As a boy he had been fond of reading French plays, had learned Latin against his father's will, had filled his mind with the ideas of deistic philosophers, and had seemed likely to become a dreamer instead of a ruler. But the dogged determination of his father, King Frederick William I, to make something out of Frederick besides a flute-playing, poetizing philosopher, had resulted in familiarizing him with elaborate financial reports and monotonous minutes of tiresome official transactions. Young Frederick, however, learned to like the details of administration and when he came to the throne in 1740 he was not only enlightened but industrious.

The young king had a clear conception of his duties, and even wrote a book in French about the theory of government. "The prince," he said, "is to the nation he governs what the head is to the man; it is his duty to see, think, and act for the whole community, that he may procure it every advantage of which it is capable." "The monarch is not the absolute master, but only the first servant of the state."

Frederick was indeed the first servant of Prussia, rising at five in the morning, working on official business until eleven o'clock, and spending the afternoon at committee meetings or army reviews.

He set about laboriously to make Prussia the best and most governed state in Europe. He carefully watched the judges to see that they did not render wrongful decisions or take bribes. He commissioned jurists to compile the laws and to make them so simple and clear that no one would violate them through ignorance. He abolished the old practice of torturing suspected criminals to make them confess their guilt.

Education, as well as justice, claimed his attention; he founded elementary schools, so that as many as possible of his subjects could learn at least to read and write. In religious affairs, Frederick allowed great individual liberty; for he was a deist, and, like other deists of the time, believed in religious toleration.

More important even than justice, education, and toleration, he considered the promotion of material prosperity among his people. He would have considered himself a failure, had his reign not meant "good times" for farmers and merchants. He encouraged industry. He fostered the manufacture of silk. He invited thrifty farmers to move from other countries and to settle in Prussia. He built ca.n.a.ls. Marshes were drained and transformed into rich pasture-land. If war desolated a part of the country, then, when peace was concluded, Frederick gave the farmers seed and let them use his war-horses before the plow. He advised landlords to improve their estates by planting orchards; and he encouraged peasants to grow turnips as fodder for cattle. Much was done to lighten the financial burdens of the peasantry, for (as Frederick himself declared) if a man worked all day in the fields, "he should not be hounded to despair by tax-collectors."

Taxes were not light by any means, but everybody knew that the king was not squandering the money. Frederick was not a man to lavish fortunes on worthless courtiers; he diligently examined all accounts; and his officials dared not be extravagant for fear of being corporally punished, or, what was worse, of being held up to ridicule by the cruel wit of their royal master.

It was only this marvelous economy and careful planning that enabled Prussia to support an army of 200,000 men and to embark upon a policy of conquest, by which Silesia and a third of Poland were won. On the army alone Frederick was willing to spend freely, but even in this department he made sure that Prussia received its money's worth.

Tireless drill, strict discipline, up-to-date arms, and well-trained officers made the Prussian army the envy and terror of eighteenth- century Europe.

In dwelling upon his seemingly successful attempts to govern in the light of reason and common sense, we have almost forgotten Frederick's love of philosophy. Let us recur to it before we take leave of him; for benevolent despotism was only one side of the philosophical monarch. He liked to play his flute while thinking how to outwit Maria Theresa; he delighted in making witty answers to tiresome reports and pet.i.tions; he enjoyed sitting at table with congenial companions discussing poetry, science, and the drama. True, he did not encourage the rising young German poets Lessing and Goethe. He thought their work vulgar and uninspired. But he invited literary Frenchmen to come to Berlin, and he put new life into the Berlin Academy of Science. Even Voltaire was for a time a guest at Frederick's court, and the amateurish poems written in French by the Prussian king were corrected by the "prince of philosophers."

[Sidenote: Catherine the Great of Russia, 1762-1796]

While Frederick was demonstrating that "the prince is but the first servant of the state," Catherine II was playing the enlightened despot in Russia. In the course of her remarkable career, [Footnote: See above, pp. 380 ff.] Catherine found time to write flattering letters to French philosophers, to make presents to Voltaire, and to invite Diderot to tutor her son. She posed, too, as a liberal-minded monarch, willing to discuss the advisability of giving Russia a written const.i.tution, or of emanc.i.p.ating the serfs. Schools and academies were established, and French became the language of polite Russian society.

At heart Catherine was little moved by desire for real reform or by pity for the peasants. She had the heavy whip--the knout--applied to the bared backs of earnest reformers. Her court was scandalously immoral, and she violated the conventions of matrimony without a qualm.

For some excuse or another, the promised const.i.tution was never written, and the lot of the serfs tended to become actually worse. To the governor of Moscow, the tsarina wrote: "My dear prince, do not complain that the Russians have no desire for instruction; if I inst.i.tute schools, it is not for us,--it is for Europe, where we must keep our position in public opinion. But the day when our peasants shall wish to become enlightened, both you and I will lose our places."

This shows clearly that while Catherine wished to be considered an enlightened despot, she was at heart quite the reverse. Her true character was not to be made manifest until the outbreak of the French Revolution, and then Catherine of Russia was to preach a crusade against reform.

[Sidenote: Charles III of Spain, 1759-1788]

There were other benevolent despots, however, who were undoubtedly sincere. Charles III, with able ministers, made many changes in Spain.

[Footnote: Charles III had previously been king of Naples (1735-1759) and had inst.i.tuted many reforms in that kingdom] The Jesuits were suppressed; the exaggerated zeal of the Inquisition was effectually checked; police were put on the streets of Madrid; German farmers were encouraged to settle in Spain; roads and ca.n.a.ls were built; manufactures were fostered; science was patronized; and the fleet was nearly doubled. When Charles III died, after a reign of almost thirty years, the revenues of Spain had tripled, and its population had increased from seven to eleven millions.

[Sidenote: Joseph I of Portugal, 1750-1777]

Charles's neighbor, Joseph I of Portugal, possessed in the famous Pombal a minister who was both a typical philosopher and an active statesman. Under his administration, industry, education, and commerce throve in Portugal as in Spain. Gustavus III (1771-1792) of Sweden similarly made himself the patron of industry and the friend of the workingman. In Italy, the king of Sardinia was freeing his serfs, while in Tuscany several important reforms were being effected by Duke Leopold, a younger brother of the Habsburg emperor, Joseph II.

[Sidenote: Joseph II of Austria, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire]

Joseph II, archduke of Austria and emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, carried the theory of enlightened despotism to its greatest lengths. He was at once the most enthusiastic and the most unsuccessful of all the benevolent despots. In him is to be observed the most striking example of the aims, and likewise the weaknesses, of this generation of philosopher-kings.

[Sidenote: His Heritage from Maria Theresa]

Before we consider Joseph's career, it is important to understand what his mother, Maria Theresa (1740-1780), had already done for the Habsburg realms. We are familiar with her brave conduct in defense of her hereditary lands against the unscrupulous ambition of Frederick the Great. [Footnote: See above ch. xi.] For her loss of Silesia she had obtained through the part.i.tion of Poland some compensation in Galicia and Moldavia. Her domestic policy is of present concern.

The troops furnished by vote of provincial a.s.semblies, she welded together into a national army. German became the official language of military officers; and a movement was begun to supplant Latin by German in the civil administration. The privileges of religious orders were curtailed in the interest of strong government; and the papal bull suppressing the Jesuits was enforced. The universities were remodeled; and the elaborate system of elementary and secondary schools, then established, survived with but little change until 1869.

Maria Theresa had begun reform along most of the lines which her son was to follow. But in two important particulars she was unlike him and unlike the usual enlightened despot. In the first place, she was politic rather than philosophical. She did not attempt wholesale reforms, or blindly follow fine theories, but introduced practical and moderate measures in order to remedy evils. She was very careful not to offend the prejudices or traditions of her subjects. Secondly, Maria Theresa was a devout Roman Catholic. Love of her subjects was not a theory with her,--it was a religious duty. A cynical Frederick the Great might laugh at conscience, and to a Catherine morality might mean nothing; but Maria Theresa remained an ardent Christian in an age of unbelief and a pure woman when loose living was fas.h.i.+onable.

[Sidenote: Policies and Plans of Joseph II, 1780-1790]

Her eldest son, Joseph II, [Footnote: Holy Roman Emperor (1765-1790), and sole ruler of the Habsburg dominions (1780-1790).] was brought up a Roman Catholic, and although strongly influenced by Rousseau's writings, never seceded from the Church. But neither religion nor expediency was his guiding principle. He said, "I have made Philosophy the legislator of my Empire: her logical principles shall transform Austria."

There was something very n.o.ble in the determination of the young ruler to do away with all injustice, to relieve the oppressed, and to lift up those who had been trampled under foot. His ambition was to make Austria a strong, united, and prosperous kingdom, to be himself the benefactor of his people, to protect the manufacturer, and to free the serf. Austria was to be remodeled as Rousseau would have wished--except in respect of Rousseau's basic idea of popular sovereignty.

It is a pity that Joseph II cannot be judged simply by his good intentions, for he was quite unfitted to carry out wholesome reforms.

He had derived his ideas from French philosophers rather than from actual life; he was so sure that his theories were right that he would take no advice; he was impatient and would brook no delay in the wholesale application of his theories. Regardless of prejudice, regardless of tradition, regardless of every consideration of political expediency, he rushed ahead on the path of reform.

To Joseph II it mattered not that Austria had long been the stronghold and her rulers the champions of Catholic Christianity. He insisted that no papal bulls should be published in his dominions without his own authorization; he nominated the bishops; he confiscated church lands.

Side altars and various emblems were removed from the churches, not because they were useless, for humble Christians still prayed to their G.o.d before such altars, but because the emperor thought side altars were signs of superst.i.tion. The old and well-loved ceremonies were altered at his command. Many monasteries were abolished. The clergy were to be trained in schools controlled by the emperor. And, to cap the climax, heretics and Jews were to be not only tolerated, but actually given the same rights as orthodox Catholics.

Many of these measures were no doubt desirable, and one or two of them might have been accomplished without causing much disturbance, but by trying to reform everything at once, Joseph only shocked and angered the clergy and such of his people as piously loved their religion.

His political policies, which were no more wisely conceived or executed, were three in number. (1) He desired to extend his possessions eastward to the Black Sea and southward to the Adriatic, while the distant Netherlands might conveniently be exchanged for near- by Bavaria. (2) He wished to get rid of all provincial a.s.semblies and other vestiges of local independence, and to have all his territories governed uniformly by officials subject to himself. (3) He aimed to uplift the lower cla.s.ses of his people, and to put down the proud n.o.bles, so that all should be equal and all alike should look up to their benevolent, but all-powerful, ruler.

The first of these policies brought him only disastrous wars. His designs on Bavaria were frustrated by Frederick the Great, who posed as the protector of the smaller German states. In the Balkan peninsula his armies fought much and gained little.

His administrative policy was as unfortunate as his territorial ambition. Maria Theresa had taken some steps to simplify the administration of her heterogeneous dominions, but she had wisely allowed Hungary, Lombardy, and the Netherlands to preserve certain of the traditions and formulas of self-government, and she did everything to win the loyalty and confidence of her Hungarian subjects. Joseph, on the other hand, carried the sacred crown of St. Stephen--treasured by all Hungarians--to Vienna; abolished the privileges of the Hungarian Diet, or congress; and with a stroke of the pen established a new system of government. He divided his lands into thirteen provinces, each under a military commander. Each province was divided into districts or counties, and these again into towns.h.i.+ps. There would be no more local privileges but all was to be managed from Vienna. The army was henceforth to be on the Prussian model, and the peasants were to be forced to serve their terms in it. German was to be the official language throughout the Habsburg realm. This was all very fine on paper, but in practice it was a gigantic failure. The Austrian Netherlands rose in revolt rather than lose their local autonomy; the Tyrol did likewise; and angry protests came from Hungary. Local liberties and traditions could not be abolished by an imperial decree.

Finally, in his attempts to reconstruct society, Joseph came to grief.

He directed that all serfs should become free men, able to marry without the consent of their lord, privileged to sell their land and to pay a fixed rent instead of being compelled to labor four days a week for their lord. n.o.bles and peasants alike were to share the burdens of taxation, all paying 13 per cent on their land. Joseph intended still further to help the peasantry, for, he said "I could never bring myself to skin two hundred good peasants to pay one do-nothing lord more than he ought to have." He planned to give everybody a free elementary education, to encourage industry, and to make all his subjects prosperous and happy.

[Sidenote: Failure of Joseph II]

But the peasants disliked compulsory military service and misunderstood his reforms; the n.o.bles were not willing to be deprived of their feudal rights; the bourgeoisie was irritated by his blundering attempts to encourage industry; the clergy preached against his religious policy.

He reigned only ten years; yet he was hated by many and loved by none; he had met defeat abroad, and at home his subjects were in revolt.

Little wonder that as he lay dying (1790) with hardly friend or relative near to comfort him, the discouraged reformer should have sighed: "After all my trouble, I have made but few happy, and many ungrateful." He directed that most of his "reforms" should be canceled, and proposed as an epitaph for himself the gloomy sentence: "Here lies the man who, with the best intentions, never succeeded in anything."

[Footnote: The epitaph was not quite true. The serfs in Austria retained at least part of the liberty he had granted.]

[Sidenote: Weakness of Benevolent Despotism]

Joseph II was not the only benevolent despot who met with discouragement. The fatal weakness of "enlightened despotism" was its failure to enlist the sympathy and support of the people. Absolute rulers like Joseph II tried to force reforms on their peoples whether the reforms were popularly desired or not. As a result, few of their measures were lasting, and ingrat.i.tude was uniformly their reward.

If all kings had possessed the supreme ability and genius of a Frederick the Great, enlightened despotism might still be in vogue. The trouble was that even well-meaning monarchs like Joseph II were unpractical; and many sovereigns were not even well-meaning. In Prussia, the successor of Frederick the Great, King Frederick William II, had neither ability nor character; his weak rule undid the work of Frederick. The same thing happened in other countries: weakness succeeded ability, extravagance wasted the fruits of economy, and corruption ruined the work of reform. Absolute monarchy without good intentions proved terribly oppressive.

THE FRENCH MONARCHY