France and the Republic: A Record of Things Seen and Learned in the French Provinces During the 'Centennial' Year 1889

In Short

William Henry Hurlbert offers a sweeping political travelogue through the French provinces during the centenary of the French Revolution in 1889. Traveling from Marseilles and Nancy to Artois and the Aisne, Hurlbert documents a stark divide between the Parisian government and the rural, provincial population. He examines how local economies, civic institutions, and traditional religious practices endure despite aggressive state-mandated "laicization" and central corruption. By contrasting the Third Republic's fiscal extravagances and anti-clerical policies with the actual sentiment of ordinary citizens, industrialists, and clergy, Hurlbert argues that genuine French liberty rests upon historical traditions rather than revolutionary dogmas. The work remains an insightful, detailed snapshot of late nineteenth-century French provincial life, capturing the cultural, economic, and political anxieties of a nation caught between monarchist heritage and republican governance.

The Story

Hurlbert begins his journey in early 1889, setting out from Rome and Paris to traverse the French provinces during the grand Paris Exposition. While Paris celebrates the centenary of 1789, Hurlbert sets out to test whether the modern Third Republic truly represents the historic French nation. Armed with regional histories and personal introductions, he travels from Marseilles and Nancy across northern and western France to examine the true state of provincial life. Right from his early observations, he contends that the contemporary French Republic suffers from an inherent illegitimacy, having usurped power through parliamentary maneuvers rather than the organic consent of the citizenry.

Moving into the northern industrial and agricultural centers like Artois, Amiens, and the Department of the Nord, Hurlbert observes the practical impact of central government policies. He scrutinizes the policy of "epuration"—the systematic purging of non-republican officials—and documents how local administrations struggle under mountainously inflated municipal budgets. In Amiens, he highlights how local authorities squander immense sums constructing vast secular "scholastic palaces" to eradicate religious influence, driving municipalities into severe fiscal deficits. Hurlbert contrasts this official hostility toward religion with the lived reality of the populace, pointing out that local charity, worker solidarity, and communal life remain deeply rooted in traditional Catholic institutions.

As Hurlbert progresses through the region of Aisne, visiting towns like Chauny, St.-Gobain, and Laon, his narrative weaves together historical analysis and contemporary social observation. He visits grand industrial enterprises, such as the famous glassworks of St.-Gobain and the coal mines of the Anzin Company. To his delight, he finds that these thriving commercial centers operate under paternalistic, highly effective social structures first established under the Old Regime. Rather than devolving into class warfare, these industrial "republics" foster harmony through cooperative associations, old-age pension funds, and church-supported schools. Through conversations with local bankers, industrial directors, and village priests, Hurlbert gathers testimony showing that the working classes care far more for practical economic security and freedom of conscience than for abstract republican slogans.

Throughout his travels, Hurlbert traces the historical roots of France’s modern political instability back to the original Revolution of 1789. He argues that the First Republic was not a noble uprising of the masses, but a chaotic outburst of mob rule and state-sanctioned violence that destroyed priceless local capital and historical heritage. Visiting places like Reims, he recounts historical atrocities, such as the brutal murder of local officials and priests during the Revolution, to demonstrate that modern radical republicanism inherits its intolerant spirit directly from Marat and the Jacobins. He contrasts the destructive centralism of Paris with the organic strength of the provinces, asserting that the republicans have invented increasingly uncomfortable political structures and forced France into them.

Toward the end of his narrative, Hurlbert synthesizes his provincial observations into a stern critique of the Third Republic's future. He points out the growing influence of monarchist sentiment and the popular appeal of figures like General Boulanger and the Comte de Paris as evidence of deep public discontent. He highlights how moderate politicians and local figures are increasingly alienated by state tyranny, such as the government's takeover of telephone systems and petty social persecution of conservative military officers. Hurlbert concludes that the Third Republic is sliding toward financial bankruptcy and moral exhaustion. He predicts that the enduring vitality of the French people—grounded in religious faith, local enterprise, and traditional heritage—will ultimately outlast the artificial, corrupt regime installed in Paris.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins Setting out in January 1889 on the eve of General Boulanger's pivotal election in Paris, Hurlbert embarks on an extensive circuit of the French provinces to examine the reality of rural life versus parliamentary rhetoric. He equips himself with local historical texts and personal contacts across Marseilles, Nancy, Rennes, and the northern frontiers.

Fiscal folly in Picardy Visiting Amiens and the Artois region, Hurlbert examines municipal budgets and exposes how republican authorities incur massive public debts to finance aggressive secularization programs. He discovers that local officials use state funds to build lavish secular schools intended to dismantle religious traditions, driving municipal finances into severe deficits.

Harmony in the industrial centers At the St.-Gobain glassworks and the Anzin coal mines, Hurlbert inspects large-scale manufacturing operations governed by long-standing, pre-revolutionary charters. He observes how cooperative stores, private pension programs, and religious instruction foster genuine harmony and prosperity between workers and management without state interference.

Echoes of revolutionary violence Traveling through Reims and the Aisne, Hurlbert recounts historical incidents from the First Republic to demonstrate the long legacy of Jacobin intolerance. He details how past revolutionary mobs destroyed historic monuments and murdered innocent citizens, drawing direct parallels to the Third Republic's modern campaigns against church property and local traditions.

Voices from the provinces In casual dinners and roadside chats with local bankers, farmers, and clergy, Hurlbert hears widespread skepticism regarding Parisian politicians and republican policies. His interlocutors express profound dissatisfaction with agricultural crises, state interference in local affairs, and the exclusion of men of standing from public office.

The monarchist alternative As his journey concludes, Hurlbert considers the rising strength of the conservative and monarchist opposition, noting the lingering popular prestige of figures like the Duc d'Aumale and the Comte de Paris. He maintains that the French people's patience with republican financial profligacy and anti-religious sentiment is rapidly running out.

The People

• William Henry Hurlbert

The author and narrator, an observant American journalist and commentator, seeks to uncover the true political and social condition of provincial France. Driven by a desire to challenge prevailing English and American misconceptions about the Third Republic, he methodically gathers local history, statistical data, and direct conversations. He emerges with an unyielding conviction that traditional French culture is fundamentally at odds with Parisian republicanism.

• M. Henrivaux

The director of the famous glassworks at St.-Gobain, M. Henrivaux wants to maintain an efficient, humane industrial enterprise that supports its working community. Faced with changing modern economic conditions, he successfully preserves cooperative institutions, educational programs, and local heritage within his facility, demonstrating that practical industrial harmony can thrive independently of republican state doctrines.

• Frédéric Petit

The Mayor of Amiens, Petit represents the dogmatic republican administration that Hurlbert sharply criticizes. Seeking to enforce secular "laicization" and defend republican school teachers from clerical influence, he uses municipal funds to pay court fines and grants indemnities to contested educators, embodying the partisan zeal and fiscal extravagance that Hurlbert identifies throughout the provincial government.

• The unnamed provincial priest at Reims

A thoughtful local cleric, this figure seeks to preserve religious liberty and historical memory against state-enforced secularization. Stymied by aggressive civil authorities who remove crucifixes and tear down public statues, he articulates the deep moral alarm felt by traditional Catholics, warning that the state's aggressive anti-clericalism is pushing the country toward moral nihilism.

• Jules Simon

A prominent moderate French statesman whose writings Hurlbert cites to illustrate internal republican critiques. Simon wants to warn his countrymen against the dangers of state-mandated atheism and political extremism. Standing against the tide of radical "laicization," he argues that abandoning Christian traditions and moral duties under the guise of civic education threatens the very foundation of French civilization.

In Its Own Voice

While visiting the historic manufacturing facilities at St.-Gobain, Hurlbert descends into the illuminated subterranean quarries that supply the glassworks with water:

Looking upon the vague, indefinite vista, as it glimmered away into an indefinable distance, one seemed really to stand 'Where Alp, the sacred river, ran / Through caverns measureless by man, / Down to a shoreless sea.'

In discussing the financial and administrative tactics used by republican officials to maintain power across the provinces, Hurlbert highlights the aggressive purge of non-republican civil servants known as "epuration":

For M. Gabriel Charmes is quite in the right when he says that 'under this word of "epuration" lie concealed the most deplorable forms of personal greed, and the least avowable personal spites and rancours.'

Reflecting on the severe anti-clerical campaigns carried out by municipal governments against traditional Catholic symbols, Hurlbert records the passionate protest of a local provincial priest:

'Is there any respect for equal rights--for the rule of the majority, for freedom of conscience in such proceedings?'

What It's Really About

Beneath its narrative of travel through regional towns and industrial centers, the book is a sustained attack on the legitimacy and ideology of the Third Republic. Hurlbert argues that genuine political freedom and civic health cannot be built upon abstract revolutionary dogmas or centralized state coercion. Instead, he maintains that France's true strength resides in its historical continuity, its provincial traditions, and its deep-seated religious faith. By contrasting the practical success of traditional, privately managed industrial communities with the fiscal chaos and partisan corruption of republican municipalities, the text seeks to prove that radical secularism fundamentally misinterprets the character of the French people.

Furthermore, Hurlbert tackles the underlying philosophical conflict between historical inheritance and state-enforced uniformity. He asserts that the Third Republic's campaign of "laicization"—the systematic removal of religion from public life and education—is not a defense of liberty, but a form of tyrannical persecution that impoverishes the nation both financially and morally. The work asks whether a nation can discard its historical, monarchical, and religious foundations without sliding into administrative despotism and social decay, concluding that true stability requires respecting traditional local liberties over central ideological authority.

Why Read It Today

This volume offers a captivating, highly detailed window into a pivotal yet often overlooked period of French history. For readers fascinated by nineteenth-century European politics, social history, or historical travelogues, Hurlbert provides a remarkably granular view of provincial life during the 1889 Centenary. Rather than focusing on the well-trodden salons and parliament buildings of Paris, the book delivers vivid descriptions of local industries, municipal court battles, ancient regional traditions, and sub-surface factory operations. Hurlbert writes with an engaging, sharp intelligence that brings every town, archive, and dinner table conversation to life.

However, readers should be prepared for the author's unabashed political bias and dense prose style. Hurlbert makes no attempt to present a neutral account; he is an uncompromising critic of republicanism and an ardent defender of monarchical and Catholic traditions. His narrative frequently pauses for lengthy historical digressions, detailed municipal budget analyses, and long extracts from contemporary speeches or reports. The language reflects nineteenth-century rhetorical conventions, complete with untranslated French terms, regional historical references, and firm period judgments regarding religion and politics.

What stays with the reader is the striking contrast between the grand political grandstanding of national anniversaries and the quiet, stubborn endurance of local life. Hurlbert's vivid account of industrial workers singing in church-run schools, ancient towns treasuring their feudal histories, and provincial citizens quietly resisting state overreach provides a timeless lesson on the limits of political engineering. It serves as a compelling reminder that the true identity of a nation is often found not in its capital's political proclamations, but in the enduring habits, faiths, and daily labor of its provinces.