Ferdinand de Rothschild, The Nineteenth Century, 1888 - 1893

1888

589

C/irVTU/C Y l’O/i’ C/LLVTU/i’ Y.

STARTED in 1830 by M. Buloz, the [fame (has Dram Jluadcs has maintained an undisputed suprcmaeyin French periodical literature.

The Reva/2 has always extended its hospitality to unknown authors: with a. generosity tempered by discrimination. Alfred de Musset’s masterpiece in comedy, The Caprice, was not admitted to tln-Theatre I’rang'ais until ten years after its publication, though all his poems had found a place in the licence. But whilst rising luminaries gain admission to the sanctuary of M. Buloz, as the ante—chamber to the Academy, the gr‘at writers of the day deem it an honour to be among his contributors. Thus in every number are found such names as those of M. Taine, the Due de Broglie, M. Maximo Ducamp, the (‘omte de Paris, M. ()ctave Fenillet, )l. lx’enan, M. Francois Coppee, and M. Cherhuliez.

Naturally, the articles of the [i’et'lw deal principally with French topics. Our own magazines, which largely exceed in number those of France, rarely devote their space to sub— jects of a foreign nature. Itis therefore a source of satisfaction when

the well—known salmon—coloured cover of 1 he [fame (ZUN Dean) Jfondcs contains the title of an article. on English history, politics, or letters.

In recent years Queen Elizabeth, Shakespeare, Hogarth, Carlyle, Darwin, and the fiction of George Eliot and ()uida, to quote at hap— hazard, have been treated of in its pages. A writer of repute, M. Augustin Filon, sometime tutor to the Prince Imperial, has made English worthies the subject of various papers. Having devoted his attention to Lord Tennyson and Hogarth in articles deserving of commendation, he has more recently criticised the works of our two leading contemporary historians. Valued as are the achievements of )li‘.l“1‘ou(le and Mr. Leeky, and great asistheir importance in our eyes,

it is still an agreeable surprise that a writer who has so ample a mass of material for his investigations nearer home should occupy himself with the analysis of these comprehensive narratives of the progress of England and her institutions. I purpose dealing only with M. Filon’s essay on Mr. Lecky which appeared in the Revue for the 1st of March of this year, and it is to be regretted that when we turn from its matter to its manner )1. Filon should fail to display that im-

partiality which characterised his former articles.

“Ye should not

i l l t

1888

589

C/irVTU/C Y l’O/i’ C/LLVTU/i’ Y.

STARTED in 1830 by M. Buloz, the [fame (has Dram Jluadcs has maintained an undisputed suprcmaeyin French periodical literature.

The Reva/2 has always extended its hospitality to unknown authors: with a. generosity tempered by discrimination. Alfred de Musset’s masterpiece in comedy, The Caprice, was not admitted to tln-Theatre I’rang'ais until ten years after its publication, though all his poems had found a place in the licence. But whilst rising luminaries gain admission to the sanctuary of M. Buloz, as the ante—chamber to the Academy, the gr‘at writers of the day deem it an honour to be among his contributors. Thus in every number are found such names as those of M. Taine, the Due de Broglie, M. Maximo Ducamp, the (‘omte de Paris, M. ()ctave Fenillet, )l. lx’enan, M. Francois Coppee, and M. Cherhuliez.

Naturally, the articles of the [i’et'lw deal principally with French topics. Our own magazines, which largely exceed in number those of France, rarely devote their space to sub— jects of a foreign nature. Itis therefore a source of satisfaction when

the well—known salmon—coloured cover of 1 he [fame (ZUN Dean) Jfondcs contains the title of an article. on English history, politics, or letters.

In recent years Queen Elizabeth, Shakespeare, Hogarth, Carlyle, Darwin, and the fiction of George Eliot and ()uida, to quote at hap— hazard, have been treated of in its pages. A writer of repute, M. Augustin Filon, sometime tutor to the Prince Imperial, has made English worthies the subject of various papers. Having devoted his attention to Lord Tennyson and Hogarth in articles deserving of commendation, he has more recently criticised the works of our two leading contemporary historians. Valued as are the achievements of )li‘.l“1‘ou(le and Mr. Leeky, and great asistheir importance in our eyes,

it is still an agreeable surprise that a writer who has so ample a mass of material for his investigations nearer home should occupy himself with the analysis of these comprehensive narratives of the progress of England and her institutions. I purpose dealing only with M. Filon’s essay on Mr. Lecky which appeared in the Revue for the 1st of March of this year, and it is to be regretted that when we turn from its matter to its manner )1. Filon should fail to display that im-

partiality which characterised his former articles.

“Ye should not

i l l t

590

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

April

1888

accuse M. Filon of writing for those readers who believe in the stage Englishman with red whiskers and suit of glaring check, not: of In estimating Mr. Lccky's

English, and that of Raucoux from the Imperialists.

position as an historian, M. Filon shows, a scholarly appreciation of

and engender a suspicion that he, is .not wholly above appealing to

Having paid a tribute to Mr. Leckys work, M. -

The causes are easily explained which always lead us Frenchmen back to the analytical and impassioned study of our eighteenth century. (.hu' eighteenth century interests us like a well—conceived drama ; it is a piece tlt‘t‘m'tlnlg to the taste ot our time. a high comedy which develops into a tragedy. I‘or many persons, toofand

bravery of the Prince de Soubise redeem the rout of his army by

I confess to being one of theme—this magic century has another great charm: . It is, in the liistorv ofour social life. a delightful hour which will not be repeated: it is the, 1‘ 1'41nce WM culminating point of our language and of our race, the-time when most French. Above all, it has the supreme merit of having prepared the present

' - . 0 which marks the century .

Maupeou, D’Aiguillon, and even Choiseul, the men who guided the fortunes, or rather invited the misfortunes, of France during the reign of Louis the Fifteenth.

Can the marshals of Louis the Fifteenth compare their laurels

Frederick the Great at Rossbach ‘9

It is not my intention to be the

apologist of Louis the Fourteenth.

llis egt,»tisin; his successful policy

ofcentralising the power of the State in his own person; his destruc— tion of the independent existence of the nobility, producing absentee— ism and t‘ansforn'iing high—spirited Chieftains into abject courtiers ; his bigotry, resulting in the revocation of the Edict of Nantes ; his recognition of James the Second after the Revolution of 1688, which led to Malplaquet, Oudenardc, and Blenheim ; his reckless expendi— ture, iiistanccd by his outlay on the Chateau of Versailles, which Mirabeau estimated at fifteen million pounds, but which has since been shown by the accounts of the architect, Mansart, to have reached the handsome figure of six millions; his entire disregard of all conjugal propriety in establishing his favourites under the same rOof as the queen and legitimising their children; in all these respects he was equalled, ifnot surpassed, by his successor. In fine Louis the Fourteenth initiated a royal road to bankruptcy, corruption, im— morality, and national decay, which had its issue in the reaction of 1789, and renders him in the seventeenth century as responsible as the eighteenth for the downfall of the monarchy. But the seventeenth century of France has a grandeur which the eighteenth lacks—

centui‘v. . . . But where in the English eighteenth csntury are we to look tor 11,nnity, its importance. its attraction? “here are we to illl'l the salient teatuic

\Vere I a I‘lrenchinan, it would seem to me that. the seventeenth century would appeal more to my national pride than tln: eighteenth.

France is apt to style the seventeenth century the snide of Louis the Fourteenth, but we must. remember that Louis the l‘ourtcenth only ascended the throne in lti—l3, and he was then but tivc years old. The earlier part of the seventeenth century is dominated by the figure of Richelieu, the founder, for good or eVil, of autocratic. sovereignty in France, ; the destroyer-of the feudal system and pow'er of the nobilitv; the originator of the French Academy of Let tcrs ; the minister whohln'ought Canada and the \Vest Indies under the sceptrc of France. The one administration of Cardinal Richelieu did as much to enhance the power of France as those of the three Cardinal ministers of the eighteenth ccntury, Ditbois, Fleury, and I'it‘l‘llh‘, combined to lower it. Paris may owe to Louis the Fifteenth the Ecole Militaire, the Pantheon, and the Place de la Concorde ; but the French eighteenth century (lid not produce a Colbert, who gave a fresh impetus to trade and manufactures; furrowed the face of the country with high roads and canals; established the academies of science, architecture, and inscriptions; paved and lit Paris ; re—established order and averted bankruptcy and famine, and who certainly was not equalled by such ministers as Maurepas, St. Florentm,

But Marshal

Saxe was a German, and among the regiments he led at Fontenoy was a strong Irish contingent. Are the ephemeral successes of Marshal Richelieu, his conquest. of Port Mahon, or his Hanoverian campaign, to be classed with the victories of Turenne and Villains?

Is the Prince de Conde of Louis the Fifteenth, the future leader of tho Emigration, as illustrious as his ancestor the great Conde, the hero of Rocroy and Nordlingcn?

Finally, will the personal

his merits. But he indulges in reflections on the eighteenth century of England which ignore facts of historical and intellectual importance, Gallic prejudices.

Filon observes :—

591

with those of the marshals of Louis the Fourteenth? The most successful of the French military commanders of the eighteenth century was Marshal Saxe, who won the battle of Fontenoy from the

sympathising with those politicians who profess to believe that lungland‘s chief characteristic is her pertidy.

CENTURY FOR CENTURY.

which is exemplified in the minutest details.

ti

Louis the Fifteenth is

credited with the epigram, ‘After me the deluge.’ “Vhen, after the battle of Ramillies, Marshal Villeroi appeared crestfallcn at Versailles, Louis the Fourteenth received him with the words: ‘At our age, Marshal, fortune no longer smiles on us.’ The seventeenth century had its many dark and gloomy pages, but was a century of boundless activity. It. saw the conquering arms of France cross the Pyrenees and the Rhine. In literature it was the period in which the French language was moulded into the shape which the eighteenth century turned to such excellent account. Louis the It‘ourteenth extended his enlightened protection to Moliere, who was hated by the

clergy and the nobility because of his satires. If the king did not ask the poet—actor to his table, as tradition would make us believe,

he in—

vited him to eat from his en tout cos, the tray which was always

at

i .j 1.

i i l

l

5,

590

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

April

1888

accuse M. Filon of writing for those readers who believe in the stage Englishman with red whiskers and suit of glaring check, not: of In estimating Mr. Lccky's

English, and that of Raucoux from the Imperialists.

position as an historian, M. Filon shows, a scholarly appreciation of

and engender a suspicion that he, is .not wholly above appealing to

Having paid a tribute to Mr. Leckys work, M. -

The causes are easily explained which always lead us Frenchmen back to the analytical and impassioned study of our eighteenth century. (.hu' eighteenth century interests us like a well—conceived drama ; it is a piece tlt‘t‘m'tlnlg to the taste ot our time. a high comedy which develops into a tragedy. I‘or many persons, toofand

bravery of the Prince de Soubise redeem the rout of his army by

I confess to being one of theme—this magic century has another great charm: . It is, in the liistorv ofour social life. a delightful hour which will not be repeated: it is the, 1‘ 1'41nce WM culminating point of our language and of our race, the-time when most French. Above all, it has the supreme merit of having prepared the present

' - . 0 which marks the century .

Maupeou, D’Aiguillon, and even Choiseul, the men who guided the fortunes, or rather invited the misfortunes, of France during the reign of Louis the Fifteenth.

Can the marshals of Louis the Fifteenth compare their laurels

Frederick the Great at Rossbach ‘9

It is not my intention to be the

apologist of Louis the Fourteenth.

llis egt,»tisin; his successful policy

ofcentralising the power of the State in his own person; his destruc— tion of the independent existence of the nobility, producing absentee— ism and t‘ansforn'iing high—spirited Chieftains into abject courtiers ; his bigotry, resulting in the revocation of the Edict of Nantes ; his recognition of James the Second after the Revolution of 1688, which led to Malplaquet, Oudenardc, and Blenheim ; his reckless expendi— ture, iiistanccd by his outlay on the Chateau of Versailles, which Mirabeau estimated at fifteen million pounds, but which has since been shown by the accounts of the architect, Mansart, to have reached the handsome figure of six millions; his entire disregard of all conjugal propriety in establishing his favourites under the same rOof as the queen and legitimising their children; in all these respects he was equalled, ifnot surpassed, by his successor. In fine Louis the Fourteenth initiated a royal road to bankruptcy, corruption, im— morality, and national decay, which had its issue in the reaction of 1789, and renders him in the seventeenth century as responsible as the eighteenth for the downfall of the monarchy. But the seventeenth century of France has a grandeur which the eighteenth lacks—

centui‘v. . . . But where in the English eighteenth csntury are we to look tor 11,nnity, its importance. its attraction? “here are we to illl'l the salient teatuic

\Vere I a I‘lrenchinan, it would seem to me that. the seventeenth century would appeal more to my national pride than tln: eighteenth.

France is apt to style the seventeenth century the snide of Louis the Fourteenth, but we must. remember that Louis the l‘ourtcenth only ascended the throne in lti—l3, and he was then but tivc years old. The earlier part of the seventeenth century is dominated by the figure of Richelieu, the founder, for good or eVil, of autocratic. sovereignty in France, ; the destroyer-of the feudal system and pow'er of the nobilitv; the originator of the French Academy of Let tcrs ; the minister whohln'ought Canada and the \Vest Indies under the sceptrc of France. The one administration of Cardinal Richelieu did as much to enhance the power of France as those of the three Cardinal ministers of the eighteenth ccntury, Ditbois, Fleury, and I'it‘l‘llh‘, combined to lower it. Paris may owe to Louis the Fifteenth the Ecole Militaire, the Pantheon, and the Place de la Concorde ; but the French eighteenth century (lid not produce a Colbert, who gave a fresh impetus to trade and manufactures; furrowed the face of the country with high roads and canals; established the academies of science, architecture, and inscriptions; paved and lit Paris ; re—established order and averted bankruptcy and famine, and who certainly was not equalled by such ministers as Maurepas, St. Florentm,

But Marshal

Saxe was a German, and among the regiments he led at Fontenoy was a strong Irish contingent. Are the ephemeral successes of Marshal Richelieu, his conquest. of Port Mahon, or his Hanoverian campaign, to be classed with the victories of Turenne and Villains?

Is the Prince de Conde of Louis the Fifteenth, the future leader of tho Emigration, as illustrious as his ancestor the great Conde, the hero of Rocroy and Nordlingcn?

Finally, will the personal

his merits. But he indulges in reflections on the eighteenth century of England which ignore facts of historical and intellectual importance, Gallic prejudices.

Filon observes :—

591

with those of the marshals of Louis the Fourteenth? The most successful of the French military commanders of the eighteenth century was Marshal Saxe, who won the battle of Fontenoy from the

sympathising with those politicians who profess to believe that lungland‘s chief characteristic is her pertidy.

CENTURY FOR CENTURY.

which is exemplified in the minutest details.

ti

Louis the Fifteenth is

credited with the epigram, ‘After me the deluge.’ “Vhen, after the battle of Ramillies, Marshal Villeroi appeared crestfallcn at Versailles, Louis the Fourteenth received him with the words: ‘At our age, Marshal, fortune no longer smiles on us.’ The seventeenth century had its many dark and gloomy pages, but was a century of boundless activity. It. saw the conquering arms of France cross the Pyrenees and the Rhine. In literature it was the period in which the French language was moulded into the shape which the eighteenth century turned to such excellent account. Louis the It‘ourteenth extended his enlightened protection to Moliere, who was hated by the

clergy and the nobility because of his satires. If the king did not ask the poet—actor to his table, as tradition would make us believe,

he in—

vited him to eat from his en tout cos, the tray which was always

at

i .j 1.

i i l

l

5,

' _, _,.. 3- 4:.

of genlus.

Lallv Tollendal and Dupleix, failed where (‘live and Hastings suc— eeeded? Because thev were not supported by the national senti— ment and resources. How is it that the former was condenmed to an ignominious and unmerited death, and the latter allowed to perish in a garret? Because an ungrateful sovereign and a careless people allowed them to be sacrificed tothc jealousy of their enemies. “The, extension ofthe American Colonies? ’ goes on M. Filon. ‘ lint. almost immediately these colonies went to pieces, the best part of them was irrevocably lost to the mother country.’ But M. Filon leaves out of consideration the hand which the English nation had in founding these colonies, the advantage they subsequently afforded for emigration, and the influence Great Britain and the United Statese—one in blood, creed, and language—have acquired over the face of the or e’lobe. M. Filon continues : ‘ Will it be said that it is literature y? originalit its century h eighteent English the :rt which gives Art, when Hogarth reproduces, with heavy and graceless brush, the

593

CENTURY FOR CENTURY.

school, and that, whilst many a genius has been unproductive, the cuttings of Hogarth filled every nursery of art.’ In days when public opinion had not the facilities and means of expression which it has in our own, Hogarth’s presentments of fashionable vices brought ‘ Or with Reynolds ? ’

M. Filon asks. ‘ He composes with mysterious recipes and puts into small labelled bottles the complexion of all the. pretty women of England.’ The meaning of this sentence is almost as mysterious as Sir Joshua’s recipes. If M. Filon had crossed the Channel during the winter months of these last eighteen years, and visited the exhibitions at the Royal Academy, and of late at the (‘rrosvenor Gallery, he would have carried away a clearer conception of the countless beauties and great men whose varied lineaments not only

Reynolds, but Gainsborough and Romney, have preserved.

. __.__._ .34...- ‘ .

more, may not the question be asked why two Frenchmen

1888

them into prominence and consequent discredit.

.~s—.—g

hand containing delicacies for the royal palate. When Voltaire was presented to Louis the Fifteenth, the king turned his back upon the greatest writer of the day. Louis the Fourteenth was distingmshed bv ceaseless energy ; Louis the Fifteenth, the incarnation of boredom, was the thorough representative of a time when ennui was the attliction of society and wit was prized above the qualities of the heartf as typified in D’Argenson’s sorrowful exclamation, ‘My son’s heart 1s . stupid.’

M. Filon speaks of the want of unity in the English elghteenth century, and, in order to prove that it lacks importance, attraction, and salient features, he asks : ‘ The victories of Marlborough ? But their consequences were partly annulled by the battle of Denain.’ ls .he correct in stating this? L'ndeniahly the battle of Denain, in which Marlborough took no part, saved France from annihilation. But the concessions France gained in the Treaty of Utrecht were the out— come not of the victory of Denain, but of the state of party feeling in England. liolingbroke, who was responsible for the treaty, has been condemned for criminal ambition in consenting to a peace at any price in order to retain the emoluments of office. M. Filon says: ‘The foundation of the Indian Empire? A mere accident, the personal work of two men of genius, Clive and Warren Hastings.’

M. Filon disposes himself of his argument. Without men of genius no empire can be founded,and the simple fact that (‘live and Warren Hastings were Englishmen of the eighteenth century is sufiictent to illustrate the genius of the English eighteenth century. Furt her-

._ e .,—. r-..-

April

THE NINETE ENTII CENT UR Y.

A“. h..._._..m.

592

\Vith regard to literature, M. Filon states that ‘it is altogether borrowed and rctlected.’ 0n reading such a sentence we might be tempted to ask whether he has studied Mr. Lecky’s history atten— tively, or in fact any history of the literature of the eighteenth century. We may grant that the writings of Bolingbroke, who is generally recognised as a master of the English language, had been influenced by his long sojourn in France, and to a certain extent repeat with Voltaire that his books, though filled with leaves, bore no fruit. But we may remind M. Filon of the fact that Voltaire, during the composition of the Nematode, took his manuscript to liolingbroke, and asked him for corrections and suggestions, which he gladly adopted. Moreover, were not Voltaire himself, Montesquieu, and many of the otherl lading French writers indebted for their lead— ing doctrines to Locke and the English deists? Has M. Filon never

heard of the Rape of [/14 Lock: or the Essay on Man?

If Addison‘s

('(tto and Campaign are beneath his notice, could he really assert that the inimitable figure of Sir Roger de (foverley is borrowed or reflected?

Again, we may concede that ffir Horace \Valpole

acquired the piquancy of his epistolary style from his long residence in Paris; but is (gz‘ribbon’s history a ‘borrowed and refiected’ work? tlf Dr. Johnson, M. Filon says that he was ‘ an old pedant, and half mad, though dictator of English letters.’ Of late a controversy has been going on in this country whether Dr. Johnson’s works are still read; but no one has denied that his ,UtCll'OntlT/j is a standard work, and that his table talk, over his innumerable cups of tea and his ferocious and ugly appetite, remodelled the whole style of English conversation, and imparted to it a hitherto unknown brilliancy and elegance. M. Filon condescends to remark that he finds an original

most

accent in Defoe and Richardson behind their counters, and in the

vulgar scenes of life.’ It is difficult to reconcrle tlns View with M. Filon’s former impression of Hogarth, that his ‘ fame has survived for 120 years, that he initiated the triumphs of the modern realistic

poems of the peasant Burns, ‘ who composes sublime songs written to the step of his oxen.‘ But of Gray’s Elegy, which Wolfe (leclared he would rather have written than have taken Quebec, M. Filon VOL. XXIII.‘N0. 123 .

S S

outlines of reality, and

presents with cruel cxactitude the

' _, _,.. 3- 4:.

of genlus.

Lallv Tollendal and Dupleix, failed where (‘live and Hastings suc— eeeded? Because thev were not supported by the national senti— ment and resources. How is it that the former was condenmed to an ignominious and unmerited death, and the latter allowed to perish in a garret? Because an ungrateful sovereign and a careless people allowed them to be sacrificed tothc jealousy of their enemies. “The, extension ofthe American Colonies? ’ goes on M. Filon. ‘ lint. almost immediately these colonies went to pieces, the best part of them was irrevocably lost to the mother country.’ But M. Filon leaves out of consideration the hand which the English nation had in founding these colonies, the advantage they subsequently afforded for emigration, and the influence Great Britain and the United Statese—one in blood, creed, and language—have acquired over the face of the or e’lobe. M. Filon continues : ‘ Will it be said that it is literature y? originalit its century h eighteent English the :rt which gives Art, when Hogarth reproduces, with heavy and graceless brush, the

593

CENTURY FOR CENTURY.

school, and that, whilst many a genius has been unproductive, the cuttings of Hogarth filled every nursery of art.’ In days when public opinion had not the facilities and means of expression which it has in our own, Hogarth’s presentments of fashionable vices brought ‘ Or with Reynolds ? ’

M. Filon asks. ‘ He composes with mysterious recipes and puts into small labelled bottles the complexion of all the. pretty women of England.’ The meaning of this sentence is almost as mysterious as Sir Joshua’s recipes. If M. Filon had crossed the Channel during the winter months of these last eighteen years, and visited the exhibitions at the Royal Academy, and of late at the (‘rrosvenor Gallery, he would have carried away a clearer conception of the countless beauties and great men whose varied lineaments not only

Reynolds, but Gainsborough and Romney, have preserved.

. __.__._ .34...- ‘ .

more, may not the question be asked why two Frenchmen

1888

them into prominence and consequent discredit.

.~s—.—g

hand containing delicacies for the royal palate. When Voltaire was presented to Louis the Fifteenth, the king turned his back upon the greatest writer of the day. Louis the Fourteenth was distingmshed bv ceaseless energy ; Louis the Fifteenth, the incarnation of boredom, was the thorough representative of a time when ennui was the attliction of society and wit was prized above the qualities of the heartf as typified in D’Argenson’s sorrowful exclamation, ‘My son’s heart 1s . stupid.’

M. Filon speaks of the want of unity in the English elghteenth century, and, in order to prove that it lacks importance, attraction, and salient features, he asks : ‘ The victories of Marlborough ? But their consequences were partly annulled by the battle of Denain.’ ls .he correct in stating this? L'ndeniahly the battle of Denain, in which Marlborough took no part, saved France from annihilation. But the concessions France gained in the Treaty of Utrecht were the out— come not of the victory of Denain, but of the state of party feeling in England. liolingbroke, who was responsible for the treaty, has been condemned for criminal ambition in consenting to a peace at any price in order to retain the emoluments of office. M. Filon says: ‘The foundation of the Indian Empire? A mere accident, the personal work of two men of genius, Clive and Warren Hastings.’

M. Filon disposes himself of his argument. Without men of genius no empire can be founded,and the simple fact that (‘live and Warren Hastings were Englishmen of the eighteenth century is sufiictent to illustrate the genius of the English eighteenth century. Furt her-

._ e .,—. r-..-

April

THE NINETE ENTII CENT UR Y.

A“. h..._._..m.

592

\Vith regard to literature, M. Filon states that ‘it is altogether borrowed and rctlected.’ 0n reading such a sentence we might be tempted to ask whether he has studied Mr. Lecky’s history atten— tively, or in fact any history of the literature of the eighteenth century. We may grant that the writings of Bolingbroke, who is generally recognised as a master of the English language, had been influenced by his long sojourn in France, and to a certain extent repeat with Voltaire that his books, though filled with leaves, bore no fruit. But we may remind M. Filon of the fact that Voltaire, during the composition of the Nematode, took his manuscript to liolingbroke, and asked him for corrections and suggestions, which he gladly adopted. Moreover, were not Voltaire himself, Montesquieu, and many of the otherl lading French writers indebted for their lead— ing doctrines to Locke and the English deists? Has M. Filon never

heard of the Rape of [/14 Lock: or the Essay on Man?

If Addison‘s

('(tto and Campaign are beneath his notice, could he really assert that the inimitable figure of Sir Roger de (foverley is borrowed or reflected?

Again, we may concede that ffir Horace \Valpole

acquired the piquancy of his epistolary style from his long residence in Paris; but is (gz‘ribbon’s history a ‘borrowed and refiected’ work? tlf Dr. Johnson, M. Filon says that he was ‘ an old pedant, and half mad, though dictator of English letters.’ Of late a controversy has been going on in this country whether Dr. Johnson’s works are still read; but no one has denied that his ,UtCll'OntlT/j is a standard work, and that his table talk, over his innumerable cups of tea and his ferocious and ugly appetite, remodelled the whole style of English conversation, and imparted to it a hitherto unknown brilliancy and elegance. M. Filon condescends to remark that he finds an original

most

accent in Defoe and Richardson behind their counters, and in the

vulgar scenes of life.’ It is difficult to reconcrle tlns View with M. Filon’s former impression of Hogarth, that his ‘ fame has survived for 120 years, that he initiated the triumphs of the modern realistic

poems of the peasant Burns, ‘ who composes sublime songs written to the step of his oxen.‘ But of Gray’s Elegy, which Wolfe (leclared he would rather have written than have taken Quebec, M. Filon VOL. XXIII.‘N0. 123 .

S S

outlines of reality, and

presents with cruel cxactitude the

59-1

TI] 1'} NIA'ETEILLYJ'JI CENTER l'.

April

1888

says nothing. He dismisses all the other authors of the English eighteenth century with the general observation. ‘ The rest are not Worth the honour of being mentioned." l’oor Uliver Goldsmith was too homely a genius to deserve this honour. (‘er'tainly the idyllic

CENTURY FOR ('EJ'TUIL’l'.

595

transmitted the hatred to his son Frederick Prince of \Vales. “Yas there so much domestic affection to be found at. Versailles? The llauplrin's piety was ridiculed by his father, and the contempt which the king showed for him is said to have shortenw'l his life. M. Filon quotes 'l‘hackerav‘s words that in the English (fourt ‘ there was neither dignity, morality. nor wit." But was there so much dignity at the court. of France? Madame de l’ornpadour was the daughter of a clerk who was condemned to be hanged for embezzlement.

His

scenes of the Vicar of ll'r/Z'rj/ie/«Z may appear tame beside the Abbe l’revost‘s spicy apotheosis of Manon Lescaut, whilst the adventures of Tom Jones and Sophia may be too coarse for the adu’rirers of the erotic tales of Crebillon l/i/s. He goes on to say: ‘Shall we seek in the eighteenth century of England that refinement, that flower of worldly civilisation, which expands in our French salons of the

sentence was commuted to exile, and when he returned he was made

shortcomings of the first two Georges may have been as individuals,

To induce the king to dismiss his parliament, she pointed repeatedly

it seems as if they might not unworthily bear comparison with Louis the Fifteenth, ,7" trim—(lone. At any rate, George the Second won his spurs on the field of battle. and fought like a soldier at Dettingen. Rapacious as were the favourites of (ieorge the First and ("reorge the Second, the wealth of England was not, exhausted in satisfying their protligat‘e demands. The king had a civil list and a fixed income which he was able to dispose of as he chose ; and George the Second is known for his economical disposition. \‘Vhereas the whole

to the portrait of (‘harles the First by Vandyke, which is now in the Louvre. and, calling the king ‘La France,' exclaimed, ‘Your parlia— ment, too, will cut off your head.’ Did the king display much dignity in the following incident ? ()ne of his courtiers died suddenly in his presence while the royal party were playing at billiards, and his wig fell off. The next morning he asked, ‘Did you hear how parted with his wig?’ Or was the French court rendered dignified by the king devoting his time to practising the art of embroidery and the preparation of truttled dishes? As to morality, surely M. Filon could not wish us to draw a parallel? When we come to wit, however, we confess that we must strike our colours.

The palm undeniably belongs to France.

In his further indictment of the English eighteenth century, through which it would be tedious to follow M. Filon step by step, he devotes several pages to the Revolution of 1088, to the internal policy of England during the reign of \‘Villiam the Third, Queen Anne, and the first Georges. A glance into Mr. Lecky’s conscientious and picturesque narrative will give the reader cause to regret that a critic of M. Filons authority should present so misleading a picture of the time of which he writes. The Revolution of 1688, he says, ‘ arose ostensibly through hatred of the Roman Catholic religion, but really through hatred of France.’ Superficially this is correct. Dislike of the foreigner and of frn‘eign influence has always been one of the strongest motives of all great national movements. That sentiment is not con-

revenue of France, wrung from an oppressed peasantry, went towards

purchasing the twenty—four residences of Madame de l’ompadour, the sale of whose effects after her death occupied a year, and furnishing the cabinets of Madame du Barry, of which we are told that every lock and every window-fastening 'as a work of art. (,‘ontrast the simplicity of St. James’s Palace, Kensington, Kew, and even Windsor t‘astle, with the lavishuess, not of Versailles only, but of l‘lontainebleau, Marly, Choisy, lv’ambouillet, and other palaces which were swept away in 1793.

Cach royal removal entailed a fabulous outlay ; each residence had its special and costly costume; every royal birth or wedding served as a pretext for festivities, which, as neither nobility nor clergy were taxed, were paid for by the people. At the marriage of the king’s daughter, the future Duchess of Parma, the expendi— tnre on public entertainments amounted to 32,000[., the item for

the dresses of the geritlemen—iri~waiting and equerries alone being upwards of 2,0005. Marie-Antoinette spent on the Petit Trianon during the fifteen years of its existence the sum of two million francs.

However much we may suffer from the increase in the National Debt, owing to the war policy of the younger Pitt, at least it saved and

“a

day? If we look at theprinccs . there have been more infamous ones, but none more vulgar, than the first two l’ianoverian kings.‘ lle theuproceeds to review the lives of the, first two thororges, in words which are exaggerated from the pages of Thackeray. \Vhatever the

a marquis. The connection of Louis the Fifteenth with Madame du liarry was one long episode of want ofdignity. To accustom the king to the dismissal of the minister he liked—the Due de Choiseul ~we read that Madan’re du Barry sat on the king’s knee, tossing oranges into the air, and exclaimed, ‘ Saute (,‘hoiseul, saute l’raslin.’

fined to the British race. Has France or any other country ever been so partial to foreign influence?

Was it not that sentiment which

enabled the tattered legions of the Republic to beat back the German

strengthened the empire ; whereas the expenditure of Louis the Fif—

armies? and in more recent times have we not seen the unity of

teenth, which was imitated by a servile nobility, ruined the country,

accomplished chiefly through the hatred of foreign dominion and

and hastened and aggravated the Revolution. M. Filon says that George the First mortally hated his son George the Second, who

fluence?

Italy

iri—

Unqucstionably, shortly before her death, Queen Anne’s

sympathies were strongly in favour of a restoration of the Stuarts ; SS2

and

59-1

TI] 1'} NIA'ETEILLYJ'JI CENTER l'.

April

1888

says nothing. He dismisses all the other authors of the English eighteenth century with the general observation. ‘ The rest are not Worth the honour of being mentioned." l’oor Uliver Goldsmith was too homely a genius to deserve this honour. (‘er'tainly the idyllic

CENTURY FOR ('EJ'TUIL’l'.

595

transmitted the hatred to his son Frederick Prince of \Vales. “Yas there so much domestic affection to be found at. Versailles? The llauplrin's piety was ridiculed by his father, and the contempt which the king showed for him is said to have shortenw'l his life. M. Filon quotes 'l‘hackerav‘s words that in the English (fourt ‘ there was neither dignity, morality. nor wit." But was there so much dignity at the court. of France? Madame de l’ornpadour was the daughter of a clerk who was condemned to be hanged for embezzlement.

His

scenes of the Vicar of ll'r/Z'rj/ie/«Z may appear tame beside the Abbe l’revost‘s spicy apotheosis of Manon Lescaut, whilst the adventures of Tom Jones and Sophia may be too coarse for the adu’rirers of the erotic tales of Crebillon l/i/s. He goes on to say: ‘Shall we seek in the eighteenth century of England that refinement, that flower of worldly civilisation, which expands in our French salons of the

sentence was commuted to exile, and when he returned he was made

shortcomings of the first two Georges may have been as individuals,

To induce the king to dismiss his parliament, she pointed repeatedly

it seems as if they might not unworthily bear comparison with Louis the Fifteenth, ,7" trim—(lone. At any rate, George the Second won his spurs on the field of battle. and fought like a soldier at Dettingen. Rapacious as were the favourites of (ieorge the First and ("reorge the Second, the wealth of England was not, exhausted in satisfying their protligat‘e demands. The king had a civil list and a fixed income which he was able to dispose of as he chose ; and George the Second is known for his economical disposition. \‘Vhereas the whole

to the portrait of (‘harles the First by Vandyke, which is now in the Louvre. and, calling the king ‘La France,' exclaimed, ‘Your parlia— ment, too, will cut off your head.’ Did the king display much dignity in the following incident ? ()ne of his courtiers died suddenly in his presence while the royal party were playing at billiards, and his wig fell off. The next morning he asked, ‘Did you hear how parted with his wig?’ Or was the French court rendered dignified by the king devoting his time to practising the art of embroidery and the preparation of truttled dishes? As to morality, surely M. Filon could not wish us to draw a parallel? When we come to wit, however, we confess that we must strike our colours.

The palm undeniably belongs to France.

In his further indictment of the English eighteenth century, through which it would be tedious to follow M. Filon step by step, he devotes several pages to the Revolution of 1088, to the internal policy of England during the reign of \‘Villiam the Third, Queen Anne, and the first Georges. A glance into Mr. Lecky’s conscientious and picturesque narrative will give the reader cause to regret that a critic of M. Filons authority should present so misleading a picture of the time of which he writes. The Revolution of 1688, he says, ‘ arose ostensibly through hatred of the Roman Catholic religion, but really through hatred of France.’ Superficially this is correct. Dislike of the foreigner and of frn‘eign influence has always been one of the strongest motives of all great national movements. That sentiment is not con-

revenue of France, wrung from an oppressed peasantry, went towards

purchasing the twenty—four residences of Madame de l’ompadour, the sale of whose effects after her death occupied a year, and furnishing the cabinets of Madame du Barry, of which we are told that every lock and every window-fastening 'as a work of art. (,‘ontrast the simplicity of St. James’s Palace, Kensington, Kew, and even Windsor t‘astle, with the lavishuess, not of Versailles only, but of l‘lontainebleau, Marly, Choisy, lv’ambouillet, and other palaces which were swept away in 1793.

Cach royal removal entailed a fabulous outlay ; each residence had its special and costly costume; every royal birth or wedding served as a pretext for festivities, which, as neither nobility nor clergy were taxed, were paid for by the people. At the marriage of the king’s daughter, the future Duchess of Parma, the expendi— tnre on public entertainments amounted to 32,000[., the item for

the dresses of the geritlemen—iri~waiting and equerries alone being upwards of 2,0005. Marie-Antoinette spent on the Petit Trianon during the fifteen years of its existence the sum of two million francs.

However much we may suffer from the increase in the National Debt, owing to the war policy of the younger Pitt, at least it saved and

“a

day? If we look at theprinccs . there have been more infamous ones, but none more vulgar, than the first two l’ianoverian kings.‘ lle theuproceeds to review the lives of the, first two thororges, in words which are exaggerated from the pages of Thackeray. \Vhatever the

a marquis. The connection of Louis the Fifteenth with Madame du liarry was one long episode of want ofdignity. To accustom the king to the dismissal of the minister he liked—the Due de Choiseul ~we read that Madan’re du Barry sat on the king’s knee, tossing oranges into the air, and exclaimed, ‘ Saute (,‘hoiseul, saute l’raslin.’

fined to the British race. Has France or any other country ever been so partial to foreign influence?

Was it not that sentiment which

enabled the tattered legions of the Republic to beat back the German

strengthened the empire ; whereas the expenditure of Louis the Fif—

armies? and in more recent times have we not seen the unity of

teenth, which was imitated by a servile nobility, ruined the country,

accomplished chiefly through the hatred of foreign dominion and

and hastened and aggravated the Revolution. M. Filon says that George the First mortally hated his son George the Second, who

fluence?

Italy

iri—

Unqucstionably, shortly before her death, Queen Anne’s

sympathies were strongly in favour of a restoration of the Stuarts ; SS2

and

596

THE NINETEENTH CENTER I'.

April

1888

if the queen’s life had been prolonged, the order of succession'might have been changed. The country naturally preferred the heir of an ancient and native line of kings to an unsympathetic, and to them unknown, prince. As late as the Rebellion of 1745 the feelings of the people were so divided that old Horace \Valpole wrote: ‘1 ap—'

CENTURY FOR CENTURY.

597

eighteenth century saw the consolidation of the results of the Revolution of 1688. That Revolution, of which M. Filon presents so original a view, saw the establishment of liberty of speech, and the birth and growth of modern parliamentary government which super— seded the autocratic rule of an intolerant monarchy. It cannot be

sufficiently borne in mind that England at that time and for many

fight bear 3 ” if they do no worse.’ But there can be no doubt that the accession of the House of Hanover and its firm hold on the throne were due to the national dislike of Roman Catholicism. If the Old Pretender had renounced his creed, and had been willing to adopt that of his sister Queen Anne, the course of history might have been altered. But we must abide by facts, and the bigoted intole— rance of the Stuart monarchs was too fresh in the recollection of the people to render any latholic sovereign accept able. Ilow superheml in reality was the devotion of the nation to the Stuarts, the failure of the (lld I’retender’s expedition in 1715 and the rapid collapse of the rebellion of 17—15 proved. The intense craving of a considerable portion of the people for an even more ascetic Protestantism. found its expression in the revival of 17:30, to the mention of which M. Filon allows only two lines. M. Filon’s aceount of the statesmen of the eighteenth century is remarkaliile for its omissions. He makes

a year to come was the only country in Europe where popular representation existed 011 a free and sound basis, where the prerogative

no mention of Godolphin, Somers, Bolinghroke, Harley, or I’ultency.

Sir Robert VValpole's long administration he ignores altogether, and is satisfied with stating that ‘ he reconciled the Hanoverian dynasty

with the provincial gentry, because being issued from them he knew their feelings, practised their habits, and spoke their language; he reconciled the Church with the Government because during twenty vears he filled it with rationalist bishops, or, to speak the language of the day, latitudinarians.’ ()f William Pitt, the'statesnian who at twenty-three was appointed Prime Minister, remained at the .head of the Government seventeen years, and in times of unequalled difficulty and during struggles of vital importance, M. Filon sumsiip a long and acrimonious criticism by saying that he was ‘ more like an old maid than an old bachelor,’ ‘that many traits of manliiiess were missing in his nature,’ though he condescends to state of him that ‘ he was otherwise strong, audacious, and resolute.’ In enlarging on Edmund Burke’s words, M. Filon calls I’itt ‘a mediocrity, and devoid of a single great idea.’ Pitt’s father, ‘the great commoner,’ M. Filon rapidly dismisses with the remark that he was ‘imposed on the choice of the king by an explosion of public feeling, and that he exercised his authority only too well.’ M. Filon does not like to dwell on the . .

Treaty of Paris of 1763.

The limits of this article would prevent me from entering into a survey of the great political and military achievements of the English eighteenth century, but an emphatic answer must be given to

M. Filon’s constantly repeated question, ‘ \Vhere is the interest: Where is the greatness, of the English eighteenth century?’ The English

:4.;~.—-.

prehend that the people may perhaps look on and cry, " 1* ight dog .

was kept in abeyance, and where liberty of discussion was permitted.

The country may have suffered from parliamentary corruption and bribery and inadequate representation; but it witnessed the liberty of the press and the publication of parliamentary proceedings, which has led to the complete control of the Legislature by public opinion.

John Wilkes—of Whom Mr. Gladstone in one of his speeches said that, Whether we choose it or not, he must be enrolled among the great champions of English freedom, and who, whether directly or indirectly, bore so large a share in assisting the free representation of the nation M. Filon ignores as a nonentity. The English eighteenth century inaugurated an era of discovery and science, and a development of trade and civilisation, the full results of which we have not yet fathoined.

4 I.

i i

‘ii

If it saw the loss of the American Colonies,

it saw also the expansion of the British race over the globe. But the great and important achievement of the English eighteenth century was that, whereas the influence of France promised to become paramount in the East Indies and in North America, the Treaty of I’aris of 1763 transferred that influence to the British Empire. By that treaty ii’igland obtained the cession of Canada and Nova Scotia, and secured her supremacy in the Indian peninsula. Nations and centuries are not: free from those defects which are the unfortunate heritage of individual members of the community, and the history of the English eighteenth century was marked by some deplorable events; but the eighteenth century ended in internal peace and prosperity for England, whilst for France it ended on the s ‘affolds of the Republic, in bankruptcy and internal dissension.

In contrasting the eighteenth century of England with that of France, it is not my intention to appear to undervalue the latter.

When M. Filon remarks that ‘it is a. magical century,’ he can meet with no denial. It is too, as he observes, ‘an a‘sthetic century, and, so far as its social life is concerned, it exercises upon us an irresistible attraction.’ He might have added that it was endowed with the girdle of Venus. To Talleyrand’s remarlsltliiat ,he who did not. live before 1 789 could not know the full charms, we can give an unqualified assent as far as the life of the upper classes is concerned.

The many memoirs of the period introduce, us to an exuberance of intellectual activity and social luxury, a perfection of form and manner, a courtli— ness and an elegance, which must ever appeal to our taste, our fancy, and our senses. Every nerve was strained, every responsibility dis—

v‘ t ti t l

596

THE NINETEENTH CENTER I'.

April

1888

if the queen’s life had been prolonged, the order of succession'might have been changed. The country naturally preferred the heir of an ancient and native line of kings to an unsympathetic, and to them unknown, prince. As late as the Rebellion of 1745 the feelings of the people were so divided that old Horace \Valpole wrote: ‘1 ap—'

CENTURY FOR CENTURY.

597

eighteenth century saw the consolidation of the results of the Revolution of 1688. That Revolution, of which M. Filon presents so original a view, saw the establishment of liberty of speech, and the birth and growth of modern parliamentary government which super— seded the autocratic rule of an intolerant monarchy. It cannot be

sufficiently borne in mind that England at that time and for many

fight bear 3 ” if they do no worse.’ But there can be no doubt that the accession of the House of Hanover and its firm hold on the throne were due to the national dislike of Roman Catholicism. If the Old Pretender had renounced his creed, and had been willing to adopt that of his sister Queen Anne, the course of history might have been altered. But we must abide by facts, and the bigoted intole— rance of the Stuart monarchs was too fresh in the recollection of the people to render any latholic sovereign accept able. Ilow superheml in reality was the devotion of the nation to the Stuarts, the failure of the (lld I’retender’s expedition in 1715 and the rapid collapse of the rebellion of 17—15 proved. The intense craving of a considerable portion of the people for an even more ascetic Protestantism. found its expression in the revival of 17:30, to the mention of which M. Filon allows only two lines. M. Filon’s aceount of the statesmen of the eighteenth century is remarkaliile for its omissions. He makes

a year to come was the only country in Europe where popular representation existed 011 a free and sound basis, where the prerogative

no mention of Godolphin, Somers, Bolinghroke, Harley, or I’ultency.

Sir Robert VValpole's long administration he ignores altogether, and is satisfied with stating that ‘ he reconciled the Hanoverian dynasty

with the provincial gentry, because being issued from them he knew their feelings, practised their habits, and spoke their language; he reconciled the Church with the Government because during twenty vears he filled it with rationalist bishops, or, to speak the language of the day, latitudinarians.’ ()f William Pitt, the'statesnian who at twenty-three was appointed Prime Minister, remained at the .head of the Government seventeen years, and in times of unequalled difficulty and during struggles of vital importance, M. Filon sumsiip a long and acrimonious criticism by saying that he was ‘ more like an old maid than an old bachelor,’ ‘that many traits of manliiiess were missing in his nature,’ though he condescends to state of him that ‘ he was otherwise strong, audacious, and resolute.’ In enlarging on Edmund Burke’s words, M. Filon calls I’itt ‘a mediocrity, and devoid of a single great idea.’ Pitt’s father, ‘the great commoner,’ M. Filon rapidly dismisses with the remark that he was ‘imposed on the choice of the king by an explosion of public feeling, and that he exercised his authority only too well.’ M. Filon does not like to dwell on the . .

Treaty of Paris of 1763.

The limits of this article would prevent me from entering into a survey of the great political and military achievements of the English eighteenth century, but an emphatic answer must be given to

M. Filon’s constantly repeated question, ‘ \Vhere is the interest: Where is the greatness, of the English eighteenth century?’ The English

:4.;~.—-.

prehend that the people may perhaps look on and cry, " 1* ight dog .

was kept in abeyance, and where liberty of discussion was permitted.

The country may have suffered from parliamentary corruption and bribery and inadequate representation; but it witnessed the liberty of the press and the publication of parliamentary proceedings, which has led to the complete control of the Legislature by public opinion.

John Wilkes—of Whom Mr. Gladstone in one of his speeches said that, Whether we choose it or not, he must be enrolled among the great champions of English freedom, and who, whether directly or indirectly, bore so large a share in assisting the free representation of the nation M. Filon ignores as a nonentity. The English eighteenth century inaugurated an era of discovery and science, and a development of trade and civilisation, the full results of which we have not yet fathoined.

4 I.

i i

‘ii

If it saw the loss of the American Colonies,

it saw also the expansion of the British race over the globe. But the great and important achievement of the English eighteenth century was that, whereas the influence of France promised to become paramount in the East Indies and in North America, the Treaty of I’aris of 1763 transferred that influence to the British Empire. By that treaty ii’igland obtained the cession of Canada and Nova Scotia, and secured her supremacy in the Indian peninsula. Nations and centuries are not: free from those defects which are the unfortunate heritage of individual members of the community, and the history of the English eighteenth century was marked by some deplorable events; but the eighteenth century ended in internal peace and prosperity for England, whilst for France it ended on the s ‘affolds of the Republic, in bankruptcy and internal dissension.

In contrasting the eighteenth century of England with that of France, it is not my intention to appear to undervalue the latter.

When M. Filon remarks that ‘it is a. magical century,’ he can meet with no denial. It is too, as he observes, ‘an a‘sthetic century, and, so far as its social life is concerned, it exercises upon us an irresistible attraction.’ He might have added that it was endowed with the girdle of Venus. To Talleyrand’s remarlsltliiat ,he who did not. live before 1 789 could not know the full charms, we can give an unqualified assent as far as the life of the upper classes is concerned.

The many memoirs of the period introduce, us to an exuberance of intellectual activity and social luxury, a perfection of form and manner, a courtli— ness and an elegance, which must ever appeal to our taste, our fancy, and our senses. Every nerve was strained, every responsibility dis—

v‘ t ti t l

598

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

April l 888

carded, every principle forsaken, every duty abandoned, in the effort to idealise the forms of enjoyment. If We turn from the memoirs to the prints, they disclose pageants, the splendorrr of which the modern imagination can scarcely realise, or unveil mysteries of life which mix the accompaniment of inimitaljile grace redeems from grossncss. iUnder Louis the l*‘ourteenth society was still linked with that of the sixteenth century, and the rude and primitive conditions of those earlier days first began to give place to the pleasing conventionalities of later times under the influence of the Hotel de Ranrbouillet; whereas under Louis the Fifteenth, dress, manners, conversation, all the thousand and one amenities of life, reached a pitch of perfection which has never been surpassed, because they were made the subject of profound study, and were the essentials of success. ‘ One of the seductive attributes of society was that beauty in women and talent in men acted as an ‘open sesame,~ and, for the first time in modern history, levelled the distinctions of caste.

Strange scenes sometimes occurred, revealing that a tinge of bar— barism still survived to remind men of genius that their position was still inferior to that of the nobles with whom they mixed. Tlrns Voltaire, having cleverly retorted on the Chevalier de ltohan for some

Assn-as . .‘IM.,?‘W'L '

impertinence, received a thrashing the next day at the hands f the lacqueys of the Chevalier.

Voltaire demanded satisfaction, but WELL a Zcr‘li'c r/r cor/«ct which sent. him to the Bastille.

However desirous we may be of doing justice to the eighteenth century, it is still impossible to absolve Louis the Fifteenth from the political and moral obloeuy which is indelibly attached to his name.

Some allowance must be made for the circurnstanccs in which he was placed. It was his lot to occupy t he throne at the time when t he evils of the autocratic system reached 1 heir culmirrat ing point . What could be expected of a sovereign who, at the awe of twelve, was taken by his 5 governor, old Marshal Villeroi, to a window of the Tuilerics within sight of the assenrbled people, and told, ‘Look, sire, at all those people; they are yours. You are their master; look at them a little in order to please them ; ’ then, having been married at fifteen to an unattractive woman older than himself, was subjected to the wiles of all the highest ladies in the land. But of his heartlessness, it is true, many proofs are extant. Count Durfort, a court: official, contradicts the well—known story that, when the funeral of Madame de Pornpadour left Versailles in a downpour of rain, the king exclaimed: ‘The poor martpriso will have bad weather for her journey,’ and asserts that the king wept, and, on being rallied for his emotion, replied, ‘It is the only tribute I can pay to the memory of the marquise.’

The influence of Madame de I’on’rpadour was certainly deplorable.

Politically she showed some discernment in inducing the king to tight the growing forces of Prussia, though she neutralised the.

CENT U13 1 ' FOR OEiVTUR Y.

599

possible good effects of the counsel by giving the command of the army to the Prince de Soubise, for the war was disastrous and terminated in the Treaty of Paris. She deserves more recognition for her share in bringing about the institution of the ,lilcole Militaire, as well as for her patronage of Voltaire and many of the great thinkers of the time, whom the king cordially detest ed. Old L‘rébillon, her former master, she relieved from misery and pensioned; no mean artist herself and a singer of urrnsual talent, she provided the painters, sculptors, and engravers with constant employment, and called the mannfactory of Sevres into existence.

Unsuccessful as were nrost of the French military commanders of the eighteenth century, the courage and gallantry of individual soldiers and officers were as conspicuous in those days as at any time before or since. The episode of the Chevalier d’Assasfito mention only one of the many heroic acts which were repeated on every battle— fieldiproves how capable the soldiers of Louis the Fifteenth were of acts of chivalrous self—sacrifice. The Chevalier d’Assas, in advance of his regiment, came suddenly on a party of the enemy. He was seized, and threatened with death if he gave the alarm; but, nothing daunted, he cried out, to his comrades, paying the penalty with his life. The nobility of France, who must be counted not by hundreds, but by hundreds of thousands, were imbued with a love for king and country which enabled them to turn at a moments notice from the supreme attraction of dancing in a royal ballet, or squandering their fortunes at the royal gaming—tables, to the hardships of campaigning.

One of the prominent features of the French eighteenth century was the efiiciency and integrity of the magistracy. A member of that order was Turgot, who became what we may call Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1774, shortly after the accession of Louis the Sixteenth.

Any one who takes an interest in the birth and progress of political economy might read with advantage at short biography of Target writ— ten by M. Leon Say, and one of a series of biographies which is being

published in France in imitation of Mr. Morley’s English Slam of Letters. M. Loon Say, unlike his compatriot M. Filon, does not class Adam Smith and David Hume among the not-to-be—mcntioned

noncntities of the English eighteenth century; and, while he states that. Adam Smith owes much to the economists of France and to ll‘urgot, acknowledges that ‘ the philosophy of Turgot owes much to the Scottish school, to Hutchison, the master of Adam Smith, and to Adam Smith himself.’ Between David Hume, the friend and patron of Rousseau, and angot, there was a long and interesting correspondence, from which the French minister could not. but» derive

some profit, and some of those reflected impressions which M. Filon attributes to English thinkers.

After a term of office of twenty

months and three weeks Turgot had to resign, owing to the intrigues of an infuriated clergy and nobility, whose privileges he Wished to

1 l l

l

i

r i

598

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

April l 888

carded, every principle forsaken, every duty abandoned, in the effort to idealise the forms of enjoyment. If We turn from the memoirs to the prints, they disclose pageants, the splendorrr of which the modern imagination can scarcely realise, or unveil mysteries of life which mix the accompaniment of inimitaljile grace redeems from grossncss. iUnder Louis the l*‘ourteenth society was still linked with that of the sixteenth century, and the rude and primitive conditions of those earlier days first began to give place to the pleasing conventionalities of later times under the influence of the Hotel de Ranrbouillet; whereas under Louis the Fifteenth, dress, manners, conversation, all the thousand and one amenities of life, reached a pitch of perfection which has never been surpassed, because they were made the subject of profound study, and were the essentials of success. ‘ One of the seductive attributes of society was that beauty in women and talent in men acted as an ‘open sesame,~ and, for the first time in modern history, levelled the distinctions of caste.

Strange scenes sometimes occurred, revealing that a tinge of bar— barism still survived to remind men of genius that their position was still inferior to that of the nobles with whom they mixed. Tlrns Voltaire, having cleverly retorted on the Chevalier de ltohan for some

Assn-as . .‘IM.,?‘W'L '

impertinence, received a thrashing the next day at the hands f the lacqueys of the Chevalier.

Voltaire demanded satisfaction, but WELL a Zcr‘li'c r/r cor/«ct which sent. him to the Bastille.

However desirous we may be of doing justice to the eighteenth century, it is still impossible to absolve Louis the Fifteenth from the political and moral obloeuy which is indelibly attached to his name.

Some allowance must be made for the circurnstanccs in which he was placed. It was his lot to occupy t he throne at the time when t he evils of the autocratic system reached 1 heir culmirrat ing point . What could be expected of a sovereign who, at the awe of twelve, was taken by his 5 governor, old Marshal Villeroi, to a window of the Tuilerics within sight of the assenrbled people, and told, ‘Look, sire, at all those people; they are yours. You are their master; look at them a little in order to please them ; ’ then, having been married at fifteen to an unattractive woman older than himself, was subjected to the wiles of all the highest ladies in the land. But of his heartlessness, it is true, many proofs are extant. Count Durfort, a court: official, contradicts the well—known story that, when the funeral of Madame de Pornpadour left Versailles in a downpour of rain, the king exclaimed: ‘The poor martpriso will have bad weather for her journey,’ and asserts that the king wept, and, on being rallied for his emotion, replied, ‘It is the only tribute I can pay to the memory of the marquise.’

The influence of Madame de I’on’rpadour was certainly deplorable.

Politically she showed some discernment in inducing the king to tight the growing forces of Prussia, though she neutralised the.

CENT U13 1 ' FOR OEiVTUR Y.

599

possible good effects of the counsel by giving the command of the army to the Prince de Soubise, for the war was disastrous and terminated in the Treaty of Paris. She deserves more recognition for her share in bringing about the institution of the ,lilcole Militaire, as well as for her patronage of Voltaire and many of the great thinkers of the time, whom the king cordially detest ed. Old L‘rébillon, her former master, she relieved from misery and pensioned; no mean artist herself and a singer of urrnsual talent, she provided the painters, sculptors, and engravers with constant employment, and called the mannfactory of Sevres into existence.

Unsuccessful as were nrost of the French military commanders of the eighteenth century, the courage and gallantry of individual soldiers and officers were as conspicuous in those days as at any time before or since. The episode of the Chevalier d’Assasfito mention only one of the many heroic acts which were repeated on every battle— fieldiproves how capable the soldiers of Louis the Fifteenth were of acts of chivalrous self—sacrifice. The Chevalier d’Assas, in advance of his regiment, came suddenly on a party of the enemy. He was seized, and threatened with death if he gave the alarm; but, nothing daunted, he cried out, to his comrades, paying the penalty with his life. The nobility of France, who must be counted not by hundreds, but by hundreds of thousands, were imbued with a love for king and country which enabled them to turn at a moments notice from the supreme attraction of dancing in a royal ballet, or squandering their fortunes at the royal gaming—tables, to the hardships of campaigning.

One of the prominent features of the French eighteenth century was the efiiciency and integrity of the magistracy. A member of that order was Turgot, who became what we may call Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1774, shortly after the accession of Louis the Sixteenth.

Any one who takes an interest in the birth and progress of political economy might read with advantage at short biography of Target writ— ten by M. Leon Say, and one of a series of biographies which is being

published in France in imitation of Mr. Morley’s English Slam of Letters. M. Loon Say, unlike his compatriot M. Filon, does not class Adam Smith and David Hume among the not-to-be—mcntioned

noncntities of the English eighteenth century; and, while he states that. Adam Smith owes much to the economists of France and to ll‘urgot, acknowledges that ‘ the philosophy of Turgot owes much to the Scottish school, to Hutchison, the master of Adam Smith, and to Adam Smith himself.’ Between David Hume, the friend and patron of Rousseau, and angot, there was a long and interesting correspondence, from which the French minister could not. but» derive

some profit, and some of those reflected impressions which M. Filon attributes to English thinkers.

After a term of office of twenty

months and three weeks Turgot had to resign, owing to the intrigues of an infuriated clergy and nobility, whose privileges he Wished to

1 l l

l

i

r i

18 88

April

infringe, and chiefly to the influence of Marie-Antoinette, then still the frivolous princess of nineteen, whose extravagant demands on the ex— chequer the minister would not comply with. If Turgot, on the one hand, was one of the originators of the present system of political economy, he was also the first man of his day who had a settled and powerful policy for the re-establishment of the finances of his country, consisting in the abolition of the abuses and privileges of the nobility, clergy, magistracy, army, and guilds, and the enfranchisement of labour, trade, and industry, which were crippled by restrictions and monopolies; thus endeavouring to realise peacefully the reforms which the Revolution of 1789 accomplished with so much violence and suffering. How ineffectively he struggled with these abuses may be exemplified by one instance. In 1780 Marshal Ségur, the Minister for \Var, promulgated a law to the effect that none but nobles could rise to the rank of officers in the French army, a law which went not a little towards intensifying the hatred of the Tiers liltat for the nobility.

Though unprincipled as a class, the nobility of France comprised individual members who were examples not only of personal bravery, but of high mental apacity and culture. The aristocratic element which pervaded all customs and inst itutions—for instance, the wife of

an untitled man was 'alled illademoisclla instead of Mat/(Mae, and none but titled women were allowed to row/c—had been of long and steady growth ; but if we put ourselves in the place of persons who lived under the old regime, we shall not be surprised at their dislike of innovation.

Notwithstanding the reverence for rank and blood, the importance and number of social functions, the burdens of court life and etiquette, many of the French nobles distin— guished themselves in science and letters, so that one of their chief ambitions often was to be enrolled as members of the Academy.

The French nobility which was so wedded to its privileges waived all considerations in favour of intellectual enjoyments; and though to gain admission at Versailles a patent of nobility dating back to 1399 was necessary, in Paris men and women of the highest rank mixed with the wives of citizens, elbowed artists and writers, in assemblies where intellect reigned supreme. Madame Geoffrin, the (laughter of a royal servant, remained the friend of Stanislas Poniatowski after he became King of Poland, and in his familiar correspondence he calls her his mother. The salon—t0 mention one out of many—of Madame d’Epinay, the wife of a fcrmier general, the friend of Rousseau and Grimm, was the centre of all that was brightest and cleverest in France. The Prince de Conti showed a generous hospitality to Rousseau, and after Beaumarchais’ conviction invited him to spend a day at his house in order ‘ to show France the way a great citizen

should be treated.’ The great citizen came and supped with the prince and forty persons of quality. Strange contrasts and anoma— lous situations were the result of the familiar intercourse of all classes,

_.\.H_

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

.....

600

CENTURY FOR CENT UR Y.

601

and contribute not a little to make the society of that time so amusing to us. Perhaps the greatest anomaly of all was the position of actors and actresses. An antiquated law deprived them of all civil rights; they could not appear as witnesses in a court, nor fill any public post. They were sent to prison for the slightest peccadillo on the mere whim of the court authorities, and if they died whilst following their profession were refused religious rites at their burial.

Adrienne Lecouvreur was taken out at night. in a cab by two porters and buried in a hole hastily dug at the corner of the street. Yet Adrienne Lecouvreur was so sought after in her lifetime that she complained she could not. comply with all the invitations she received from the great, and that their attentions prevented her from enjoying a peaceful and quiet life. The actress Clairon was an intimate friend of the Duchesse de Villeroi and the Duchesse de Duras.

Not only actresses, but actors infatuated the leaders of society. The actor Mole received from Marshal Richelieu a costume worth ten thousand francs, and Flcury from a noble friend a dress that had only been worn once and for which 18,000 francs had been paid. Two ladies one French, one Polish~—fought a. duel for an actor. The ]*‘renchwoman was wounded and locked up in a convent.

Quaint

incidents of allrkinds illustrate the relations between the stage and its patrons. Actresses were sometimes present at State concerts, and on one occasion Sophie Arnould was seated next to a duchess, who exclaimed disdainfully : ‘ Honest women should wear badges to distinguish them.’ ‘ Then you would wish,’ replied the actress, ‘to give the public a chance of counting them.’ A young abbé, accom— panied by two young and pretty women, entered the box of the Marshal de Noailles, who was known for his misfortunes on the battle—field. The marshal soon afterwards came and claimed the box.

In the height of the dispute, the abbe called out to the pit, which had looked on with much interest: ‘t‘mntleinen, I appeal to you.

Here is the Marshal de Noailles, who has never taken a place in his life, and now wants to take mine. Am I to go?’ ‘Nol No! ’ cried the pit, and the marq’ttig was forced to give vay.

Some palliation for the levity of society is to be found in the

system of education, which was itself the outcome of the exigencies of fashion.

Fathers brought up their sons to consider that the

smiles of the king were the only source of honour and preferment.

The entire day of a lady of rank was taken up by dress, conversation, and amusement. No mother was able under such circumstances to devote her thoughts to her daughter, who was sent off at an early age to an aristocratic convent.

How peculiar was the education

which she there received may be judged from the fact that the same prizes were given for history as for dancing. In orderto preserve the purity of blood and the equality of position, the pupil was aflfianced and often married by her parents when hardly in her teens to a man Whom she had never seen.

18 88

April

infringe, and chiefly to the influence of Marie-Antoinette, then still the frivolous princess of nineteen, whose extravagant demands on the ex— chequer the minister would not comply with. If Turgot, on the one hand, was one of the originators of the present system of political economy, he was also the first man of his day who had a settled and powerful policy for the re-establishment of the finances of his country, consisting in the abolition of the abuses and privileges of the nobility, clergy, magistracy, army, and guilds, and the enfranchisement of labour, trade, and industry, which were crippled by restrictions and monopolies; thus endeavouring to realise peacefully the reforms which the Revolution of 1789 accomplished with so much violence and suffering. How ineffectively he struggled with these abuses may be exemplified by one instance. In 1780 Marshal Ségur, the Minister for \Var, promulgated a law to the effect that none but nobles could rise to the rank of officers in the French army, a law which went not a little towards intensifying the hatred of the Tiers liltat for the nobility.

Though unprincipled as a class, the nobility of France comprised individual members who were examples not only of personal bravery, but of high mental apacity and culture. The aristocratic element which pervaded all customs and inst itutions—for instance, the wife of

an untitled man was 'alled illademoisclla instead of Mat/(Mae, and none but titled women were allowed to row/c—had been of long and steady growth ; but if we put ourselves in the place of persons who lived under the old regime, we shall not be surprised at their dislike of innovation.

Notwithstanding the reverence for rank and blood, the importance and number of social functions, the burdens of court life and etiquette, many of the French nobles distin— guished themselves in science and letters, so that one of their chief ambitions often was to be enrolled as members of the Academy.

The French nobility which was so wedded to its privileges waived all considerations in favour of intellectual enjoyments; and though to gain admission at Versailles a patent of nobility dating back to 1399 was necessary, in Paris men and women of the highest rank mixed with the wives of citizens, elbowed artists and writers, in assemblies where intellect reigned supreme. Madame Geoffrin, the (laughter of a royal servant, remained the friend of Stanislas Poniatowski after he became King of Poland, and in his familiar correspondence he calls her his mother. The salon—t0 mention one out of many—of Madame d’Epinay, the wife of a fcrmier general, the friend of Rousseau and Grimm, was the centre of all that was brightest and cleverest in France. The Prince de Conti showed a generous hospitality to Rousseau, and after Beaumarchais’ conviction invited him to spend a day at his house in order ‘ to show France the way a great citizen

should be treated.’ The great citizen came and supped with the prince and forty persons of quality. Strange contrasts and anoma— lous situations were the result of the familiar intercourse of all classes,

_.\.H_

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

.....

600

CENTURY FOR CENT UR Y.

601

and contribute not a little to make the society of that time so amusing to us. Perhaps the greatest anomaly of all was the position of actors and actresses. An antiquated law deprived them of all civil rights; they could not appear as witnesses in a court, nor fill any public post. They were sent to prison for the slightest peccadillo on the mere whim of the court authorities, and if they died whilst following their profession were refused religious rites at their burial.

Adrienne Lecouvreur was taken out at night. in a cab by two porters and buried in a hole hastily dug at the corner of the street. Yet Adrienne Lecouvreur was so sought after in her lifetime that she complained she could not. comply with all the invitations she received from the great, and that their attentions prevented her from enjoying a peaceful and quiet life. The actress Clairon was an intimate friend of the Duchesse de Villeroi and the Duchesse de Duras.

Not only actresses, but actors infatuated the leaders of society. The actor Mole received from Marshal Richelieu a costume worth ten thousand francs, and Flcury from a noble friend a dress that had only been worn once and for which 18,000 francs had been paid. Two ladies one French, one Polish~—fought a. duel for an actor. The ]*‘renchwoman was wounded and locked up in a convent.

Quaint

incidents of allrkinds illustrate the relations between the stage and its patrons. Actresses were sometimes present at State concerts, and on one occasion Sophie Arnould was seated next to a duchess, who exclaimed disdainfully : ‘ Honest women should wear badges to distinguish them.’ ‘ Then you would wish,’ replied the actress, ‘to give the public a chance of counting them.’ A young abbé, accom— panied by two young and pretty women, entered the box of the Marshal de Noailles, who was known for his misfortunes on the battle—field. The marshal soon afterwards came and claimed the box.

In the height of the dispute, the abbe called out to the pit, which had looked on with much interest: ‘t‘mntleinen, I appeal to you.

Here is the Marshal de Noailles, who has never taken a place in his life, and now wants to take mine. Am I to go?’ ‘Nol No! ’ cried the pit, and the marq’ttig was forced to give vay.

Some palliation for the levity of society is to be found in the

system of education, which was itself the outcome of the exigencies of fashion.

Fathers brought up their sons to consider that the

smiles of the king were the only source of honour and preferment.

The entire day of a lady of rank was taken up by dress, conversation, and amusement. No mother was able under such circumstances to devote her thoughts to her daughter, who was sent off at an early age to an aristocratic convent.

How peculiar was the education

which she there received may be judged from the fact that the same prizes were given for history as for dancing. In orderto preserve the purity of blood and the equality of position, the pupil was aflfianced and often married by her parents when hardly in her teens to a man Whom she had never seen.

602

THE N1 NETEEN'J'II ('ENTL'R Y.

April

But the tact and power of assimilation peculiar to Frenchwomen enabled them, notwithstanding their faulty education, to acquire that culture and brilliancy which was so highly prized. Domestic affection and purity were scarcely compatible with the conditions under which their lives were passed. (twing to the educational teachings of Rousseau, combined with the Anglomania—which declared itself not only in the diffusion of constitutional aspirations, but even in the practice of liorse—racing—aml to the participation in the \Var of American Independence, a desire for a better state of things began to make itself felt. The literary and philosophical doetrines of the encyclopzedists contributed towards the reform of the abuses of the aristoeratic system, but they must also bear the responsibility of having produced that contempt for religion and for authority which accelerated the Rerolution. That lleyolution con— tributes a fitting antithesis and climax to the leyity and enchant— ment of the earlier portions of the century. \Vhen, however, we throw off the spell exercised by the superficial attractions of the French eighteenth century, then we perceive beneath the brilliant Veneer of art, wit, and retinement, those \‘ict-s of character and con—

stitution which couhl only be eradicated by a supreme conyulsion.

As in tropical countries the rotting trunks of ancient trees are covered by a rank and gorgeous \egetation, so the processes of de— composition at work in the political, aristocratic, clerical, and social

systems of France wereconcealed by a luxuriant and yiyidintellectual overgrowth. M. Filon gleefully improyes on Lord t'hestertiehl‘s observation and says that the graces were not nat iyes of (treat Britain; but when we come to judge impart iallythe cardinal merits ofthe English and French eighteenth centuries, when we emancipate ourselves from the glamour of the Gallic graces, and only compare stern historical facts in their immediate effects on the welfare of the nation, the consequences of the old vv‘g/me in France with those of the new in England, we are forced to conclude that the English kings of the eighteenth century deserved better of their country than the, Bourbons of France, that English statesmen adapted themselves to the growing demand for popular and democratic changes, that Englands soldiers and sailors brought rictory to her arms, that her religiol'ls and philosophical reforms soWed the seeds of the greater purity and greater prosperity of the nineteenth century; while in France princes, statesmen, and nobles brought the throne into disre— pute, the finances to rain, and the count ryto anarchyit hat, in a word, all the forces of England were united in building up the empire, whilst

those of France were united in destroying hers. (‘entury for century, the eighteenth century of England was a century of ascent, the eighteenth century of France a century of desCent.

FERDINAND RorHsCHILI).

l

‘i

v!

*i 1

ll

3z

1 | l

l l

602

THE N1 NETEEN'J'II ('ENTL'R Y.

April

But the tact and power of assimilation peculiar to Frenchwomen enabled them, notwithstanding their faulty education, to acquire that culture and brilliancy which was so highly prized. Domestic affection and purity were scarcely compatible with the conditions under which their lives were passed. (twing to the educational teachings of Rousseau, combined with the Anglomania—which declared itself not only in the diffusion of constitutional aspirations, but even in the practice of liorse—racing—aml to the participation in the \Var of American Independence, a desire for a better state of things began to make itself felt. The literary and philosophical doetrines of the encyclopzedists contributed towards the reform of the abuses of the aristoeratic system, but they must also bear the responsibility of having produced that contempt for religion and for authority which accelerated the Rerolution. That lleyolution con— tributes a fitting antithesis and climax to the leyity and enchant— ment of the earlier portions of the century. \Vhen, however, we throw off the spell exercised by the superficial attractions of the French eighteenth century, then we perceive beneath the brilliant Veneer of art, wit, and retinement, those \‘ict-s of character and con—

stitution which couhl only be eradicated by a supreme conyulsion.

As in tropical countries the rotting trunks of ancient trees are covered by a rank and gorgeous \egetation, so the processes of de— composition at work in the political, aristocratic, clerical, and social

systems of France wereconcealed by a luxuriant and yiyidintellectual overgrowth. M. Filon gleefully improyes on Lord t'hestertiehl‘s observation and says that the graces were not nat iyes of (treat Britain; but when we come to judge impart iallythe cardinal merits ofthe English and French eighteenth centuries, when we emancipate ourselves from the glamour of the Gallic graces, and only compare stern historical facts in their immediate effects on the welfare of the nation, the consequences of the old vv‘g/me in France with those of the new in England, we are forced to conclude that the English kings of the eighteenth century deserved better of their country than the, Bourbons of France, that English statesmen adapted themselves to the growing demand for popular and democratic changes, that Englands soldiers and sailors brought rictory to her arms, that her religiol'ls and philosophical reforms soWed the seeds of the greater purity and greater prosperity of the nineteenth century; while in France princes, statesmen, and nobles brought the throne into disre— pute, the finances to rain, and the count ryto anarchyit hat, in a word, all the forces of England were united in building up the empire, whilst

those of France were united in destroying hers. (‘entury for century, the eighteenth century of England was a century of ascent, the eighteenth century of France a century of desCent.

FERDINAND RorHsCHILI).

l

‘i

v!

*i 1

ll

3z

1 | l

l l

686

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Nov.

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE OOMTE DE BRIENNE. 687 there are many other and shorter memoirs which, if read chronologically, would give a clear insight into the political and social condition

of France from the days of Froissart, the contemporary of Edward the Third, down to the Revolution of 1789 ; and convey in a most attrac— tive manner a correct knowledge of the men, manners, and customs of

successive generations. On the ground of propriety, it may be alleged that there is little to choose between the French novel and the French memoir. But, if French books are to be read, it is manifestly desirable that we should read those which have, at any rate, the

TfIE ATE/1101165

merit of conveying historical instruction as well as entertainment.

OF THE COHITE DE EZUEZVNE.

in reading her history we must not lose sight of her national charac— teristics. Foremost among these we find that, for good or evil, women have played a conspicuous part in the history of France—a state of things which Frenchmen accepted as a matter of course.

It would, of course, be futile to judge France by English ideas, and

IMPROVED facilities of communication with Paris and a more general knowledge of the French language are leading to an increased

The entire life of Henry the Fourth, the ideal of a French monarch, demand for French literary works. This is amply indicated by the greater attention given in our press to French publications of merit,

and by the establishment of an increasing number of French book— sellers in various parts of the metropolis. For the present, however, the taste of English readers for French works is chiefly confined to fiction. Only the other day one of these booksellers replied to my inquiry for some new publications that he could only offer me novels, as there was practically no demand for books of any other description.

This may not be a matter for surprise, as fiction is the most popular form which literature takes, but it is none the less a. matter for regret.

Discrimination is not general, and the advantage which may be derived from one good French novel is more than counteracted by the perusal of scores of bad ones. Such compositions as Octave Feuillet’s Sibylle, George Sand's rural stories and tales to her grandchildren, some of the elder Dumas’ historical novels, Theuriet’s earlier works, to mention only a few, are lost amongst, or discarded

for, the productions of the realistic school, which are, or should

was moulded by his gallantries, which even helped to endear him to his subjects. We cannot forget that, but. for the dagger of ltavaillac, he would have plunged his country into war in pursuit of

his passion for the l’rincesse de Condo, who had sought refuge from him in Brussels.

A special reason why the present moment seems

appropriate to advocate the reading ofFrench memoirs is because our attention is being directed to the celebration of the centenary of the Revolution of ”SQ—not only to the dramatic episodes of the struggle but to the investigation of its rcmotest causes. On these, the memoirs of the preceding century throw an abundant light.

Among perhaps the least known in this country, but not the least attractive, are those of the Comte de Brienne, published in Paris in 1828, and edited by M. Barrierc.

The Comte do Brienne was descended from one Martial de Loménie, a clerk of the Council, who being a zealous Huguenot, was

killed in the Massacre of St. Bartholomew in 1572.

Henry the

Fourth adopted his son, sent him as ambassador to London, and be, as offensive to our notions of art as to our ideas of decency.

made him a Secretary of State.

The next Loménie, the first of the

One vast and most important branch of French literature is almost ignored in this country, though it has the advantage of combining the charm of style and the fascination of romance with the reality

family who was styled Comte de Brienne, negotiated in 1621 the marriage of Henrietta Maria with Charles the First, and afterwards

of history.

became what we should term Secretary for Foreign Affairs. His death in 1666 elicited from Louis the Fourteenth the flattering

The natural reserve of the English character has, with

some few exceptions, deterred our notabilities in the past from recording their private experiences for the benefit of posterity.

On the other hand, the greater effusiveness of the French character has had the effect of preserving for us an inexhaustible store of personal and historical reminiscences of the deepest and widest interest. In most instances, the exigencies of modern life preclude the perusal of some of the most valuable of these memoirs. Few can now find time to read such voluminous records as those of the Due de St. Simon, the Marquis d’Argenson, or the Cardinal de Retz. But

eulogium, ‘ I lose to-day the oldest, most useful, and best—informed

of my Ministers.’

His son, Louis Henri de Loménie, Comte de

Brienne, writer of the memoirs, was born in 1635, three years before the birth of Louis the Fourteenth, and seven before the death of

Cardinal Richelieu. At seven years of age he and his brother were appointed pages to Louis the Fourteenth, who was then in his fifth year. In the opening pages of his memoirs he gives an amusing account of his first reception by his youthful sovereign :—

686

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Nov.

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE OOMTE DE BRIENNE. 687 there are many other and shorter memoirs which, if read chronologically, would give a clear insight into the political and social condition

of France from the days of Froissart, the contemporary of Edward the Third, down to the Revolution of 1789 ; and convey in a most attrac— tive manner a correct knowledge of the men, manners, and customs of

successive generations. On the ground of propriety, it may be alleged that there is little to choose between the French novel and the French memoir. But, if French books are to be read, it is manifestly desirable that we should read those which have, at any rate, the

TfIE ATE/1101165

merit of conveying historical instruction as well as entertainment.

OF THE COHITE DE EZUEZVNE.

in reading her history we must not lose sight of her national charac— teristics. Foremost among these we find that, for good or evil, women have played a conspicuous part in the history of France—a state of things which Frenchmen accepted as a matter of course.

It would, of course, be futile to judge France by English ideas, and

IMPROVED facilities of communication with Paris and a more general knowledge of the French language are leading to an increased

The entire life of Henry the Fourth, the ideal of a French monarch, demand for French literary works. This is amply indicated by the greater attention given in our press to French publications of merit,

and by the establishment of an increasing number of French book— sellers in various parts of the metropolis. For the present, however, the taste of English readers for French works is chiefly confined to fiction. Only the other day one of these booksellers replied to my inquiry for some new publications that he could only offer me novels, as there was practically no demand for books of any other description.

This may not be a matter for surprise, as fiction is the most popular form which literature takes, but it is none the less a. matter for regret.

Discrimination is not general, and the advantage which may be derived from one good French novel is more than counteracted by the perusal of scores of bad ones. Such compositions as Octave Feuillet’s Sibylle, George Sand's rural stories and tales to her grandchildren, some of the elder Dumas’ historical novels, Theuriet’s earlier works, to mention only a few, are lost amongst, or discarded

for, the productions of the realistic school, which are, or should

was moulded by his gallantries, which even helped to endear him to his subjects. We cannot forget that, but. for the dagger of ltavaillac, he would have plunged his country into war in pursuit of

his passion for the l’rincesse de Condo, who had sought refuge from him in Brussels.

A special reason why the present moment seems

appropriate to advocate the reading ofFrench memoirs is because our attention is being directed to the celebration of the centenary of the Revolution of ”SQ—not only to the dramatic episodes of the struggle but to the investigation of its rcmotest causes. On these, the memoirs of the preceding century throw an abundant light.

Among perhaps the least known in this country, but not the least attractive, are those of the Comte de Brienne, published in Paris in 1828, and edited by M. Barrierc.

The Comte do Brienne was descended from one Martial de Loménie, a clerk of the Council, who being a zealous Huguenot, was

killed in the Massacre of St. Bartholomew in 1572.

Henry the

Fourth adopted his son, sent him as ambassador to London, and be, as offensive to our notions of art as to our ideas of decency.

made him a Secretary of State.

The next Loménie, the first of the

One vast and most important branch of French literature is almost ignored in this country, though it has the advantage of combining the charm of style and the fascination of romance with the reality

family who was styled Comte de Brienne, negotiated in 1621 the marriage of Henrietta Maria with Charles the First, and afterwards

of history.

became what we should term Secretary for Foreign Affairs. His death in 1666 elicited from Louis the Fourteenth the flattering

The natural reserve of the English character has, with

some few exceptions, deterred our notabilities in the past from recording their private experiences for the benefit of posterity.

On the other hand, the greater effusiveness of the French character has had the effect of preserving for us an inexhaustible store of personal and historical reminiscences of the deepest and widest interest. In most instances, the exigencies of modern life preclude the perusal of some of the most valuable of these memoirs. Few can now find time to read such voluminous records as those of the Due de St. Simon, the Marquis d’Argenson, or the Cardinal de Retz. But

eulogium, ‘ I lose to-day the oldest, most useful, and best—informed

of my Ministers.’

His son, Louis Henri de Loménie, Comte de

Brienne, writer of the memoirs, was born in 1635, three years before the birth of Louis the Fourteenth, and seven before the death of

Cardinal Richelieu. At seven years of age he and his brother were appointed pages to Louis the Fourteenth, who was then in his fifth year. In the opening pages of his memoirs he gives an amusing account of his first reception by his youthful sovereign :—

688

THE NINETEENTH CENTUR Y.

N0v.

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE. 689

Ifemember that Madame de Lasalle (\Voman of the Bedchamber to the Queen Regent), who was appointed by her Majesty to the ginmliauship of the King, received us, a pike in her hand, and beating a drum, at the head of the numerous company of pages whom she had under her command. She wore a large hat covered with black feathers, and carried a sword by her side. She gracefully placed rnuskets on our shoulders, and made us give a military salute ; then kissed us on the torchead, and blessed us in the most. cavalier manner. \Ve next went through our exercises, in which the King, though still wearing a piuafore, took much pleasure. llis amusements were all martial. llis lingers were alwavs beating a drum, and as soon as his small hands could hold the slit-its, he had a.~ kettledrum in front of him, on which he was constantly hammering.

a child. They were tears which anger and indignation could draw from the eyes of grown—up men. I took his hand, kissed it, and said, ‘ \Yhy do you cry, dear master? ’ He answered, ‘I shall not always be a child !—but be silent: I wish that no one should notice my tears. Those Bordelais rogues shall not always dictate to me! I shall punish them as they deserve! lie silent, I say, and do not betray the confidence 1 put in you I l

Young Brienne, however, was not allowed to waste his best years

in these pastimes, and was sent to school. Though he candidly acknowledged that he preferred Court life, and even confesses that he had already begun to be corrupted by it, his subsequent career

gave ample proof that he was no idler.

He states that he learned

geography, Latin, Greek, engineering, and history, and adds that he became proficient in athletic exercises. He tells us—and this. is typical of the social conditions of the time—that by these latter

exterior accomplishments he secured the good graces ofthose who

The civil war continued, and the King, who was then in his

fourteenth year, was more or less a prisoner in Paris. He amused himself by constructing a fort in the garden, and divided his young friends into its defenders and assailants. It was at this time, two days before the King came of age, when Bricnne was in his seven-

teenth year, that he received the reversion of his father’s office.

The custom of reversion, which lasted until the Revolution, obtained in most of the great clerical, ministerial, and Court appointments.

Originally in the gift of the sovereign, many of them could be. bought and sold, and we constantly hear of the reversion of civil and Court places changing hands by sale in this singular fashion.

Brienne’s father, as we have seen, was Secretary of State. On September 6, 1651, the last day of Anne of Austria‘s Regency, young

directed the education of the young King. Brienne passes very rapidly over the next eight years of his life, the period during which

Brienne took his oath to the Queen on his appointment as ASsistant

the troubles of the Fronde agitated France.

ously says, ‘ of kissing those beautiful hands.’

Three of these years,

fortunately for him, he spent in travel, visiting the chief countries of the Continent, where he learned languages, and contracted a taste for works of. art, which proved a great resource to him in his later

life. On his return he secured to himself the favourite opinion of the King by giving in the presence of the Court a polished and interesting account of his travels. ()f the wars of the Fronde he records an incident which vividly illustrates the class feeling of the period. He says that the small Castle of Vicses was besieged, and that its governor, though not a nobleman, had the audacity to hold it against, the royal army actually in sight of the King. But the King’s Marshal would stand no nonsense.

The governor was taken, and I had the pleasure of seeing him executed from my wrndows.

However much such a sentiment may jar on us, it was only the natural outcome of a state of things in which the King was absolute, and was looked upon as the embodiment of the power and order of the nation. Louis the Fourteenth while still a child, long before the Queen

Regent surrendered the government into his hands, began to evince a consciousness of his own position. Brienne relates that the Queen Regent, to amuse the young King, made him a present of a

chariot drawn by eight horses. But the wars of the Fronde, which were then raging, filled the mind of Louis, and even this regal toy failed to beguile him. On the occasion, says Brienne, the King looked absent.

I went up to him and saw that he cried, but not like

Secretary of State, and kissed hands, ‘never tiring,’ as he ingenu-

On the following

day, in a dress covered with gold, and wearing a sword, he stood

next the King when he declared his majorityt to the Parlement.

Several succeeding chapters he devotes to events prior to his own personal'experience, mainly to those relating to Richelieu’s admini—

stration.

While on this subject he gives his version of an historic

episode 2 The Cardinal was desperately in love, and made no secret of it, with a great Princess [Anne of Austrial, whom the respect which l owe to her memory prevents me from naming here. The Princess and her confidant [the Duchesse de Chevreuse] were in those days quite as much inclined to amusement. as to intrigue. One day they were talking together and laughing at the amorous Cardinal. ‘ He's desperately in love, madame,’ said the confidant, ‘and I don‘t know anything he would not do to please your Majesty. Shall I send him one evening into your room dressed as a mountebank, and oblige him to dance the Saraband? If you wish it he will come.’ ‘ Folly! ' replied the Princess; but she was a woman, young, high—spirited, and fond of fun. The idea of such a sight struck her as entertaining.

She took her friend at her word, who at once went to the Cardinal. The great.

Minister, although he had all the affairs of Europe in his head, still had his heart full of love. He accepted the strange assignation, already thinking himself assured of his conquest. But it happened otherwise. Boccau [a famous musician], who played the violin, was sent for. He was told to keep the secret—but are such secrets ever kept? and it was through him that the circumstances became known. Richelieu was attired in green velvet pantaloons, with garters ornamented with silver bells; he held castanets in his hands, and danced the Saraband, which was played by Boccau—the lady spectators and Boccau being hidden behind a screen, from which the movements of the dancer were seen. They laughed immoderately. How could they do otherwise? as I, in my fiftieth year, am still laughing over it. Boccau gone, the Cardinal went through all the stages of a declaration. But the Princess

688

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Ifemember that Madame de Lasalle (\Voman of the Bedchamber to the Queen Regent), who was appointed by her Majesty to the ginmliauship of the King, received us, a pike in her hand, and beating a drum, at the head of the numerous company of pages whom she had under her command. She wore a large hat covered with black feathers, and carried a sword by her side. She gracefully placed rnuskets on our shoulders, and made us give a military salute ; then kissed us on the torchead, and blessed us in the most. cavalier manner. \Ve next went through our exercises, in which the King, though still wearing a piuafore, took much pleasure. llis amusements were all martial. llis lingers were alwavs beating a drum, and as soon as his small hands could hold the slit-its, he had a.~ kettledrum in front of him, on which he was constantly hammering.

a child. They were tears which anger and indignation could draw from the eyes of grown—up men. I took his hand, kissed it, and said, ‘ \Yhy do you cry, dear master? ’ He answered, ‘I shall not always be a child !—but be silent: I wish that no one should notice my tears. Those Bordelais rogues shall not always dictate to me! I shall punish them as they deserve! lie silent, I say, and do not betray the confidence 1 put in you I l

Young Brienne, however, was not allowed to waste his best years

in these pastimes, and was sent to school. Though he candidly acknowledged that he preferred Court life, and even confesses that he had already begun to be corrupted by it, his subsequent career

gave ample proof that he was no idler.

He states that he learned

geography, Latin, Greek, engineering, and history, and adds that he became proficient in athletic exercises. He tells us—and this. is typical of the social conditions of the time—that by these latter

exterior accomplishments he secured the good graces ofthose who

The civil war continued, and the King, who was then in his

fourteenth year, was more or less a prisoner in Paris. He amused himself by constructing a fort in the garden, and divided his young friends into its defenders and assailants. It was at this time, two days before the King came of age, when Bricnne was in his seven-

teenth year, that he received the reversion of his father’s office.

The custom of reversion, which lasted until the Revolution, obtained in most of the great clerical, ministerial, and Court appointments.

Originally in the gift of the sovereign, many of them could be. bought and sold, and we constantly hear of the reversion of civil and Court places changing hands by sale in this singular fashion.

Brienne’s father, as we have seen, was Secretary of State. On September 6, 1651, the last day of Anne of Austria‘s Regency, young

directed the education of the young King. Brienne passes very rapidly over the next eight years of his life, the period during which

Brienne took his oath to the Queen on his appointment as ASsistant

the troubles of the Fronde agitated France.

ously says, ‘ of kissing those beautiful hands.’

Three of these years,

fortunately for him, he spent in travel, visiting the chief countries of the Continent, where he learned languages, and contracted a taste for works of. art, which proved a great resource to him in his later

life. On his return he secured to himself the favourite opinion of the King by giving in the presence of the Court a polished and interesting account of his travels. ()f the wars of the Fronde he records an incident which vividly illustrates the class feeling of the period. He says that the small Castle of Vicses was besieged, and that its governor, though not a nobleman, had the audacity to hold it against, the royal army actually in sight of the King. But the King’s Marshal would stand no nonsense.

The governor was taken, and I had the pleasure of seeing him executed from my wrndows.

However much such a sentiment may jar on us, it was only the natural outcome of a state of things in which the King was absolute, and was looked upon as the embodiment of the power and order of the nation. Louis the Fourteenth while still a child, long before the Queen

Regent surrendered the government into his hands, began to evince a consciousness of his own position. Brienne relates that the Queen Regent, to amuse the young King, made him a present of a

chariot drawn by eight horses. But the wars of the Fronde, which were then raging, filled the mind of Louis, and even this regal toy failed to beguile him. On the occasion, says Brienne, the King looked absent.

I went up to him and saw that he cried, but not like

Secretary of State, and kissed hands, ‘never tiring,’ as he ingenu-

On the following

day, in a dress covered with gold, and wearing a sword, he stood

next the King when he declared his majorityt to the Parlement.

Several succeeding chapters he devotes to events prior to his own personal'experience, mainly to those relating to Richelieu’s admini—

stration.

While on this subject he gives his version of an historic

episode 2 The Cardinal was desperately in love, and made no secret of it, with a great Princess [Anne of Austrial, whom the respect which l owe to her memory prevents me from naming here. The Princess and her confidant [the Duchesse de Chevreuse] were in those days quite as much inclined to amusement. as to intrigue. One day they were talking together and laughing at the amorous Cardinal. ‘ He's desperately in love, madame,’ said the confidant, ‘and I don‘t know anything he would not do to please your Majesty. Shall I send him one evening into your room dressed as a mountebank, and oblige him to dance the Saraband? If you wish it he will come.’ ‘ Folly! ' replied the Princess; but she was a woman, young, high—spirited, and fond of fun. The idea of such a sight struck her as entertaining.

She took her friend at her word, who at once went to the Cardinal. The great.

Minister, although he had all the affairs of Europe in his head, still had his heart full of love. He accepted the strange assignation, already thinking himself assured of his conquest. But it happened otherwise. Boccau [a famous musician], who played the violin, was sent for. He was told to keep the secret—but are such secrets ever kept? and it was through him that the circumstances became known. Richelieu was attired in green velvet pantaloons, with garters ornamented with silver bells; he held castanets in his hands, and danced the Saraband, which was played by Boccau—the lady spectators and Boccau being hidden behind a screen, from which the movements of the dancer were seen. They laughed immoderately. How could they do otherwise? as I, in my fiftieth year, am still laughing over it. Boccau gone, the Cardinal went through all the stages of a declaration. But the Princess

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1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE. 691

treated it all as buffoonery, and her contempt, seasoned with jests, so maddened the haughty prelate, that his love turned to hate. The Princess paid only too dearly for the pleasure she had derived from seeing his Eminence dance.

Brienne was intimately acquainted with Mazarin, and a consider-

From another source we learn that Mazarin spent several hours in the morning weighing in the scales the coin he had won the night before, so as to pay his losses on the next evening with the light money. High play now became the chief pastime of the French

able part of his memoirs is taken up with the time of Mazarin’s

Court, and, as we are aware, was imported into England by Charles

ascendency. Mazarin, it may he remembered, was born in the Abruzzi, in 1602. He was most anxious to establish his claim to noble

the Second and his courtiers.

birth, though tradition is probably correct in asserting that he was the grandson of a Sicilian artisan, and that his father was a confi— dential servant to Prince Colonna. However, Mazarin gave himself

“'e are told that Mdme. de Montespan

often lost 600,000 livres at a single sitting, and on Christmas day lost 4,200,000 livres. The Duchesse d’Orléans, mother of the Regent, writing from Versailles to her sister in the year 1695, gives a graphic

description of the gaming room :—

the airs of a patrician, though he led the life of an adventurer— sometimes a soldier, sometimes a priest, sometimes a diplomatist—

always on the alert for a favourable opening for his talents.

He had

the luck to meet at Casal, near Turin, Cardinal Richelieu, who was there settling some diplomatic question of importance. His success in a difficult negotiation excited the admiration of Richelieu, who,

struck with the subtle and resourceful mind of the young diplomatist, as well as with his good looks, invited him to Paris. There he had a further opportunity of appreciating his intellectual gifts,

his patience, and his genius as a negotiator.

He procured )Iazarin

the cardinal‘s hat, and at his death, in 16-12, recommended him to the King as Prime Minister. It is well known that Anne of Austria awarded him not only her confidence but her affection, so that it was even believed that she was secretly married to him~the union being rendered possible by the fact that Mazarin was a lay cardinal. His

diplomatic skill in arranging the Treaty of \Vestphalia in 1648, and that of the Pyrenees in 1650,jiistified Richelieu’s estimate of his special talents; while the weakness he displayed in the civil war,

IIere they do uothingbut play at lansquenet: the gamblers behavelike madmeu —one howls, one thumps so strongly on the table with his fists that the whole room vibrates, a third blasphemes in such a manner that it makes one's hair stand on end, and they all look so beside themselves that it is appalling to behold.

Brienne devotes many pages to an account of the magnificent collection of works of art which Mazarin had amassed. Charles the First in England and )Iazarin in France may be said to have been the first collectors in the modern sense of the word. The Cardinal

from his earliest youth had a craze for works of art.

When a young

man, while travelling in Italy, he bought a rosary for a few francs,

which its owner thought to be of glass, but which Mazarin recognised as made of precious stones, and sold it afterwards in France at an enormous profit. As he grew in power and wealth he increased his collection, and a splendid opportunity was afforded him for doing so in 1650, when the treasures of Charles the First were sold by Cromwell. He did not, however, avail himself of it immediately. He con— sidered that an extravagant value or reserve had been placed on the

and the confusion in which he involved the finances of the country, showed the restricted scope of his capacity as an administrator.

Brienne, as Assistant-Secretary of State, was much in Mazarin’s com—

articles for sale. We can well gauge the difference in value both of

pany, and we are indebted to him for many details of the Cardinal’s character and private life. Brienne’s admiration of his fine figure and handsome countenance is qualified by the statement that ‘ the Cardinal was always profusely perfumed to disguise the natural result of his want of cleanliness.’ \Vith regard to his religious

wreck of Charles the First‘s galleries, were then valued at 300$.

Observances Brienne sarcastically observes :— I never saw him read his breviary, but he probably had a dispensation from Rome. He went to mass every day, which was something, but he was not scru-

pulous, and a plurality of beneficcs did not embarrass him.

works of art and of money in those days, when we hear that the famous cartoons of Raphael, one of the few things saved from the general Never (says Brienue) has any private individual gathered together more statues, vases, pictures, and carvings. Ilis rooms were hung with the finest tapestries of France, Spain, Italy, and Flanders. The King of Spain made him a present of a tapestry representing the Labour's of Hercules, made from a drawing of Titian, and all embroidered in gold. Louis de Here, the Spanish Ambassador, gave him excel— lent tapestries made at lh'uges, after a drawing of a pupil of Raphael. \Vhat tables and sideboards from Florence made in mosaic! \Vhat fire-dogs made of silver!

‘Vhat crystal and ormolu chandeliers, gilt mirrors, and sconces !

He was fond of the

play, of ballets, and especially of gambling, to which he gave as much time as to the direction of affairs. He bore his losses too impatiently, and showed himself too sensitive about winning. He knew well how to manage his game, and generally took a croupier with him who played better than he did, as he was afraid to lose. Finally, he thought that, as all great gamblers had the reputation of cheating, he might do as others did, and, what he called in milder phrase, ‘take his advantage.’

Brienne, owing to his official position, often acted as secretary to

the Cardinal, and it is a proof of the young man’s intelligence that the Wily Minister showed him much confidence. This intimacy enabled him to witness many strange and interesting scenes. In 1560, the year of the conclusion of the Treaty of the Pyrenees, and of the marriage of Louis the Fourteenth with the Infanta of Spain,

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1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE. 691

treated it all as buffoonery, and her contempt, seasoned with jests, so maddened the haughty prelate, that his love turned to hate. The Princess paid only too dearly for the pleasure she had derived from seeing his Eminence dance.

Brienne was intimately acquainted with Mazarin, and a consider-

From another source we learn that Mazarin spent several hours in the morning weighing in the scales the coin he had won the night before, so as to pay his losses on the next evening with the light money. High play now became the chief pastime of the French

able part of his memoirs is taken up with the time of Mazarin’s

Court, and, as we are aware, was imported into England by Charles

ascendency. Mazarin, it may he remembered, was born in the Abruzzi, in 1602. He was most anxious to establish his claim to noble

the Second and his courtiers.

birth, though tradition is probably correct in asserting that he was the grandson of a Sicilian artisan, and that his father was a confi— dential servant to Prince Colonna. However, Mazarin gave himself

“'e are told that Mdme. de Montespan

often lost 600,000 livres at a single sitting, and on Christmas day lost 4,200,000 livres. The Duchesse d’Orléans, mother of the Regent, writing from Versailles to her sister in the year 1695, gives a graphic

description of the gaming room :—

the airs of a patrician, though he led the life of an adventurer— sometimes a soldier, sometimes a priest, sometimes a diplomatist—

always on the alert for a favourable opening for his talents.

He had

the luck to meet at Casal, near Turin, Cardinal Richelieu, who was there settling some diplomatic question of importance. His success in a difficult negotiation excited the admiration of Richelieu, who,

struck with the subtle and resourceful mind of the young diplomatist, as well as with his good looks, invited him to Paris. There he had a further opportunity of appreciating his intellectual gifts,

his patience, and his genius as a negotiator.

He procured )Iazarin

the cardinal‘s hat, and at his death, in 16-12, recommended him to the King as Prime Minister. It is well known that Anne of Austria awarded him not only her confidence but her affection, so that it was even believed that she was secretly married to him~the union being rendered possible by the fact that Mazarin was a lay cardinal. His

diplomatic skill in arranging the Treaty of \Vestphalia in 1648, and that of the Pyrenees in 1650,jiistified Richelieu’s estimate of his special talents; while the weakness he displayed in the civil war,

IIere they do uothingbut play at lansquenet: the gamblers behavelike madmeu —one howls, one thumps so strongly on the table with his fists that the whole room vibrates, a third blasphemes in such a manner that it makes one's hair stand on end, and they all look so beside themselves that it is appalling to behold.

Brienne devotes many pages to an account of the magnificent collection of works of art which Mazarin had amassed. Charles the First in England and )Iazarin in France may be said to have been the first collectors in the modern sense of the word. The Cardinal

from his earliest youth had a craze for works of art.

When a young

man, while travelling in Italy, he bought a rosary for a few francs,

which its owner thought to be of glass, but which Mazarin recognised as made of precious stones, and sold it afterwards in France at an enormous profit. As he grew in power and wealth he increased his collection, and a splendid opportunity was afforded him for doing so in 1650, when the treasures of Charles the First were sold by Cromwell. He did not, however, avail himself of it immediately. He con— sidered that an extravagant value or reserve had been placed on the

and the confusion in which he involved the finances of the country, showed the restricted scope of his capacity as an administrator.

Brienne, as Assistant-Secretary of State, was much in Mazarin’s com—

articles for sale. We can well gauge the difference in value both of

pany, and we are indebted to him for many details of the Cardinal’s character and private life. Brienne’s admiration of his fine figure and handsome countenance is qualified by the statement that ‘ the Cardinal was always profusely perfumed to disguise the natural result of his want of cleanliness.’ \Vith regard to his religious

wreck of Charles the First‘s galleries, were then valued at 300$.

Observances Brienne sarcastically observes :— I never saw him read his breviary, but he probably had a dispensation from Rome. He went to mass every day, which was something, but he was not scru-

pulous, and a plurality of beneficcs did not embarrass him.

works of art and of money in those days, when we hear that the famous cartoons of Raphael, one of the few things saved from the general Never (says Brienue) has any private individual gathered together more statues, vases, pictures, and carvings. Ilis rooms were hung with the finest tapestries of France, Spain, Italy, and Flanders. The King of Spain made him a present of a tapestry representing the Labour's of Hercules, made from a drawing of Titian, and all embroidered in gold. Louis de Here, the Spanish Ambassador, gave him excel— lent tapestries made at lh'uges, after a drawing of a pupil of Raphael. \Vhat tables and sideboards from Florence made in mosaic! \Vhat fire-dogs made of silver!

‘Vhat crystal and ormolu chandeliers, gilt mirrors, and sconces !

He was fond of the

play, of ballets, and especially of gambling, to which he gave as much time as to the direction of affairs. He bore his losses too impatiently, and showed himself too sensitive about winning. He knew well how to manage his game, and generally took a croupier with him who played better than he did, as he was afraid to lose. Finally, he thought that, as all great gamblers had the reputation of cheating, he might do as others did, and, what he called in milder phrase, ‘take his advantage.’

Brienne, owing to his official position, often acted as secretary to

the Cardinal, and it is a proof of the young man’s intelligence that the Wily Minister showed him much confidence. This intimacy enabled him to witness many strange and interesting scenes. In 1560, the year of the conclusion of the Treaty of the Pyrenees, and of the marriage of Louis the Fourteenth with the Infanta of Spain,

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when Brienne was twenty-five years of age, the Cardinal, as the result of his exertions, contracted the illness from which he died the follow-

ing year :— One day, as he was in bed, Anne of Austria came to inquire how he was.

‘Yery bad,’ he answered; and, without saying anything else, threw back the coverlet, pulled out his legs and showed them to the Queen.

‘ See, madame,’ said

he, ‘these legs have lost the rest which they gave to France.‘ They were so livid and lean that the good Queen could not help uttering a loud cry and shedding a few tears on seeing him in so deplorable a state. The health of his liniinence be— came weaker ever since then, and, in fact, the rest of his life was one long agony.

Soon after this Iirienne writes :—

I was walking in the new apartment of his palace. when lheard, owing,r to the noise which his slippers made. that the (‘ardinal was coming. I hid myself behind the tapestry and I heard him speaking aloud. ‘ All 3 I must leave all this,Y and he halted at every step, he was so weak, looking on one side, then on the other.

Glanciug at the articles which struck him most, he exclaimed. sighing from the bottom of his heart, ‘I must leave all this. I had so much trouble in acquiring these things, and I leave them with regret. I shall not see them any more where I am going to.‘ I sighed heavily, so that he heard me. ‘ “ho is there ?’ he said. ‘ It is I,’ I replied; ‘I was waiting here to speak to your Eminence of an important letter.’ ‘ Come,’ he said, in a piteous tone—he was only attired in a furer dressing— gown with a nightcap on his head. ‘ Give me your hand j. I am very weak.‘ He would not let me speak to him on lutsiness. ‘I am no longerin a tit state,‘ said he: ‘speak to the King, and do what he says. Look at this beautiful t‘orreggio, this Tenus by Titian, and this incomparable picture of the Flood by (‘zii-accio. I must leave all these. Adieu, my dear pictures, which I have liked so much, and which have cost me so much money! ’ . . . Four or five days before his death the Cardinal had himself shaved and his moustache curled. Ile was so thoroughly smothered with paint that he never looked so white and so pink. Ile then took a turn in the garden in his sedan chair, whereby he accelerated his death, which drew from the courtiers the heartless remark that ‘ a hypocrite he lived and a hypocrite he died.’

His magnificent collection )[azarin offered to the King shortly before his death, but the latter would only accept the fourteen famous Mazarin diamonds, which remained among the French crown

jewels.

The greater portion of his effects went to the husband of

the pretence of destroyng them, then he had them secretly sold, and made about 2,000l. by the transaction. He laughingly said, ‘These Frenchmen are capital fellows—as long as they can sing and scribble they let me do what I like.’ A more agreeable trait of his character was that he would have no one unhappy about him. \Vhen any one was proposed to him for his household, his first question would be ‘ Is he happy? ’ Pernicious as was the example he set to the King, by his avarice on the one hand and his prodigality on the other, still he taught the young monarch many a lesson in statecraft from which he was not slow to profit. Brienne refers to the well-known story that after )Iazarin’s death, when the Archbishop of Rheims went to the King, and asked with whom he was in future to transact the

business of the clergy, the King replied, ‘ A moi, M. l’Archevéque.’

Whether he used these words or not, it is certain that from that very moment he took the helm of the State into his own hands. But neither his application to business nor his recent marriage precluded

him from falling in love with Louise de la Valliere, on whom young Brienne had himself cast an admiring eye. However, the instant he discovered the King‘s passion, in a thoroughly courtier—like manner,

he hastened to abandon all idea of her. During the next two years he enjoyed the favour and confidence of the King, and among other particulars of the King‘s business habits he describes the Cabinet Councils as they were held by Mazarin, and by the King after his death 1* In )Iazai'in’s time these councils were held in his room While he was being shaved and dressed, and he often played with a bird or a. monkey while they were talking- to him on business. The young King used to come in when the council was over and receive a lesson in politics. . . . As soon as his Majesty had ordered his council we met once a week. It consisted of eight Ministers besides his Majesty. The King listened to 11s sitting, all the Ministers standing,the Chancellor on his left, close to the bed, the others standing wherever they could. The Secretaries of State stood while speaking to his Majesty, and if one had anything to write he sat on a stool at. the end of the table Where there was an inkstand and paper.

one of his nieces, who took the title of Due de Mazarin, and from

Immediately after this Brienne gives an account of one of the rare occasions on which Louis the Fourteenth lost his temper. It

whom the King bought sundry pictures which are still the chief

appears that the Spanish Ambassador in London had ordered his

ornaments of the Louvre. This same niece, the Duchesse de Mazarin, one of the famous beauties of the Court of Charles the Second, ended her days in London, while her husband, who was a maniac,

mutilated some of the Cardinal’s finest antique statues whose nudity offended him.

Mazarin and Anne of Austria were the subject of the most scurrilous libels. Books of vile poems were published against the Queen, which may well have served as a pattern for those calumnies which were circulated against Marie Antoinette a hundred years later.

Mazarin, with that peculiar cunning and avaricious character of his,

bad all the copies of the books attacking himself bought up under

chariot to take precedence by force of that of the French Ambas— sador:—This unpleasant news was brought to me by a special courier, from London, at eleven o‘clock at night. I went at once to see the King, who was slipping with the Queen, the Dowager Queen, and his brother. ‘ \Vhat's the news, Brienne P ’ he asked, and I related to him how the Spanish Ambassador’s servants had cut the traces of our Ambassador’s carriage, killed the postilion, and houghcd the horses.

The King, without answering, rose from the table with such a movement- of rage that he almost knocked it over, and took me into the room of the Queen Dowager to hear the despatch. The Queen followed and begged him to finish his supper, but he only replied, ‘I have supped, madam l’ and then, turning to me, said, ‘I shall have satisfaction, or declare war against the King of Spain, and I shall then force him

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when Brienne was twenty-five years of age, the Cardinal, as the result of his exertions, contracted the illness from which he died the follow-

ing year :— One day, as he was in bed, Anne of Austria came to inquire how he was.

‘Yery bad,’ he answered; and, without saying anything else, threw back the coverlet, pulled out his legs and showed them to the Queen.

‘ See, madame,’ said

he, ‘these legs have lost the rest which they gave to France.‘ They were so livid and lean that the good Queen could not help uttering a loud cry and shedding a few tears on seeing him in so deplorable a state. The health of his liniinence be— came weaker ever since then, and, in fact, the rest of his life was one long agony.

Soon after this Iirienne writes :—

I was walking in the new apartment of his palace. when lheard, owing,r to the noise which his slippers made. that the (‘ardinal was coming. I hid myself behind the tapestry and I heard him speaking aloud. ‘ All 3 I must leave all this,Y and he halted at every step, he was so weak, looking on one side, then on the other.

Glanciug at the articles which struck him most, he exclaimed. sighing from the bottom of his heart, ‘I must leave all this. I had so much trouble in acquiring these things, and I leave them with regret. I shall not see them any more where I am going to.‘ I sighed heavily, so that he heard me. ‘ “ho is there ?’ he said. ‘ It is I,’ I replied; ‘I was waiting here to speak to your Eminence of an important letter.’ ‘ Come,’ he said, in a piteous tone—he was only attired in a furer dressing— gown with a nightcap on his head. ‘ Give me your hand j. I am very weak.‘ He would not let me speak to him on lutsiness. ‘I am no longerin a tit state,‘ said he: ‘speak to the King, and do what he says. Look at this beautiful t‘orreggio, this Tenus by Titian, and this incomparable picture of the Flood by (‘zii-accio. I must leave all these. Adieu, my dear pictures, which I have liked so much, and which have cost me so much money! ’ . . . Four or five days before his death the Cardinal had himself shaved and his moustache curled. Ile was so thoroughly smothered with paint that he never looked so white and so pink. Ile then took a turn in the garden in his sedan chair, whereby he accelerated his death, which drew from the courtiers the heartless remark that ‘ a hypocrite he lived and a hypocrite he died.’

His magnificent collection )[azarin offered to the King shortly before his death, but the latter would only accept the fourteen famous Mazarin diamonds, which remained among the French crown

jewels.

The greater portion of his effects went to the husband of

the pretence of destroyng them, then he had them secretly sold, and made about 2,000l. by the transaction. He laughingly said, ‘These Frenchmen are capital fellows—as long as they can sing and scribble they let me do what I like.’ A more agreeable trait of his character was that he would have no one unhappy about him. \Vhen any one was proposed to him for his household, his first question would be ‘ Is he happy? ’ Pernicious as was the example he set to the King, by his avarice on the one hand and his prodigality on the other, still he taught the young monarch many a lesson in statecraft from which he was not slow to profit. Brienne refers to the well-known story that after )Iazarin’s death, when the Archbishop of Rheims went to the King, and asked with whom he was in future to transact the

business of the clergy, the King replied, ‘ A moi, M. l’Archevéque.’

Whether he used these words or not, it is certain that from that very moment he took the helm of the State into his own hands. But neither his application to business nor his recent marriage precluded

him from falling in love with Louise de la Valliere, on whom young Brienne had himself cast an admiring eye. However, the instant he discovered the King‘s passion, in a thoroughly courtier—like manner,

he hastened to abandon all idea of her. During the next two years he enjoyed the favour and confidence of the King, and among other particulars of the King‘s business habits he describes the Cabinet Councils as they were held by Mazarin, and by the King after his death 1* In )Iazai'in’s time these councils were held in his room While he was being shaved and dressed, and he often played with a bird or a. monkey while they were talking- to him on business. The young King used to come in when the council was over and receive a lesson in politics. . . . As soon as his Majesty had ordered his council we met once a week. It consisted of eight Ministers besides his Majesty. The King listened to 11s sitting, all the Ministers standing,the Chancellor on his left, close to the bed, the others standing wherever they could. The Secretaries of State stood while speaking to his Majesty, and if one had anything to write he sat on a stool at. the end of the table Where there was an inkstand and paper.

one of his nieces, who took the title of Due de Mazarin, and from

Immediately after this Brienne gives an account of one of the rare occasions on which Louis the Fourteenth lost his temper. It

whom the King bought sundry pictures which are still the chief

appears that the Spanish Ambassador in London had ordered his

ornaments of the Louvre. This same niece, the Duchesse de Mazarin, one of the famous beauties of the Court of Charles the Second, ended her days in London, while her husband, who was a maniac,

mutilated some of the Cardinal’s finest antique statues whose nudity offended him.

Mazarin and Anne of Austria were the subject of the most scurrilous libels. Books of vile poems were published against the Queen, which may well have served as a pattern for those calumnies which were circulated against Marie Antoinette a hundred years later.

Mazarin, with that peculiar cunning and avaricious character of his,

bad all the copies of the books attacking himself bought up under

chariot to take precedence by force of that of the French Ambas— sador:—This unpleasant news was brought to me by a special courier, from London, at eleven o‘clock at night. I went at once to see the King, who was slipping with the Queen, the Dowager Queen, and his brother. ‘ \Vhat's the news, Brienne P ’ he asked, and I related to him how the Spanish Ambassador’s servants had cut the traces of our Ambassador’s carriage, killed the postilion, and houghcd the horses.

The King, without answering, rose from the table with such a movement- of rage that he almost knocked it over, and took me into the room of the Queen Dowager to hear the despatch. The Queen followed and begged him to finish his supper, but he only replied, ‘I have supped, madam l’ and then, turning to me, said, ‘I shall have satisfaction, or declare war against the King of Spain, and I shall then force him

694

THE NINETEENTH GENTUR Y.

Nov

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE. 695

to make his Ambassadors give precedence to mine in every European Court.’ . . .

I remained fully a quarter of an hour with the King, and, having received his orders, spent the Whole night writing, but did not fail to attend his levee in the morning.

instance, the daughter of the King’s brother, the Due of Orleans,

A special council was summoned for this affair, and eventually the King obtained from the King of Spain the reparation he demanded. It must be remembered that Louis was only in his twentyfourth year at this time, so that he already gave ample proof of his arrogant nature.

Precedence, rank, and etiquette were, however, in

these days matters of the first importance, not only in France, but in every European country. Louis the Fourteenth, in pursuance of his usual policy of self-exaltation, drew up a new code of etiquette, which filled several volumes. It had, it is true, the merit of settling dangerous and often sanguinary disputes, but it enslaved in a puerile manner every action of his life ; indeed, every hour of his day. The most rigid etiquette ruled the camp, as well as the Court, when the King took the field. Even during the hardships of a campaign, a marshal considered it a distinction of the highest order to be invited to sit at the King’s table. While at Paris no one, not even the Dauphin, was allowed to enjoy that privilege. Brienne says that

who married the Duke of Lorraine, when she came to Versailles was

never allowed to sit on anything higher than a footstool in the presence of her father and mother, though her mother was greatly attached to her. The sole object of all these rules was to augment the majesty of the King at the cost of the pride and standing of the nobility. The nobility had no option but to adopt them, and outwardly they adopted them cheerfully, for in some ways they pandered to their vanity, but behind the scenes they revenged themselves hy publishing satires at the expense of the dispenser of all these favours. It is not surprising that in the days preceding the Revolution the liberal-minded members of the aristocracy threw themselves heart and soul into the new movement, which promised them enfranchisement from this loathsome weight of subjection. Nor can it be wondered at that Marie Antoinette, fresh from the rural

simplicity of Schoenbrunn, should try to escape from her gilded prison at Versailles to the seclusion of the Petit Trianon, where

she could indulge in unconventional intercourse with her friends. So long as this pompous and puerile folly was overshadowed by the

during the years he served as Secretary of State he only twice shared the King’s supper. The first time was on board a boat near Bordeaux.

Having boasted tremendously of the distinction, he adds : ‘I didn’t eat next him, but at the sideboard off a dish from the King’s cadenas,

which he gave me with his own hand.’

military and personal grandeur of Louis the Fourteenth, it was tole— rated by public opinion; but under the levity of Louis the Fifteenth, and the effeteness of his successor, it became unbearable and inexcusable. Yet, again, the entire fabric of the French Monarchy had

These Garlands were cases of become so obsolete towards the end of the last century, that its

gold or silver, containing the small plate which only the King and Queen and some few princes of the blood were allowed to use.

Originally adopted as a precaution against poison they were fastened

with a padlock—hence the name. An extract from the ‘ Code of Rights,’ mentioned above, will show how the most minute details of the King’s life were provided for in his elaborate scheme of

prestige rested only upon these trivial Observances, and it sustained irreparable damage even from these acts of Marie Antoinette, which

tended towards bringing royalty down to the level of ordinary mortality.

The wastefulness of the Court, and the multiplicity of useless offices maintained down to the time of Louis the Sixteenth, were

etiquette :— \Vhen the King left his bed it was ordained that the Great Chamberlain, or the First Gentleman, or the First Lord in \V'aiting, or some other great dignitary, should put on his dressing-gown, which the first valet dc chambre should hold. When the King received his shirt, which was always given by the First Prince, of the Blood, the first va ct de chambre assisted him in putting on the right sleeve, While the groom of the stole assisted him with the left.

When the King went to bed the same forms were observed, and it was of the very highest importance that the first valet dc chambre should unfasten his left garter, though we are not told whose duty it was to perform that office for the right one. The Queen, in this respect, was more fortunate than her consort, as we are distinctly

assured she was allowed to unfasten her own garters. To enhance the effect of these regulations, it will be seen the King arranged that those officers who came nearest his person should have the highest position and precedence. In practice these rules of etiquette had results contrary to all natural feeling as well as sentiment. For

another prime source of public discontent and disaffection. Among the minor ofi‘ices established during the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, in the household of the younger princes of the blood, were, for instance, ‘ four overseers of the roast meat,’ ‘one chafewax,’ ‘ four

barbers,’ ‘ one doctor and two valets to the pages,’ ‘ a captain of the greyhounds,’ and many others equally absurd, to which high salaries were attached, of course, at the cost of the country.

Brienne touches very little on politics, and, when he alludes to

the visits of the King to the Parlement, dwells chiefly on the magnificence of his own attire on such occasions. His omission to give us an account of the famous scene which was enacted in the Parlement in the year 1655, when Louis the Fourteenth was in his eighteenth year, is to be regretted.

Numerous and conflicting versions of that

scene are to be found in contemporary memoirs. Louis the Fourteenth is supposed to have arrived from the Forest of Vincennes, and entered the Parlement in his hunting costume, with a whip in his

694

THE NINETEENTH GENTUR Y.

Nov

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE. 695

to make his Ambassadors give precedence to mine in every European Court.’ . . .

I remained fully a quarter of an hour with the King, and, having received his orders, spent the Whole night writing, but did not fail to attend his levee in the morning.

instance, the daughter of the King’s brother, the Due of Orleans,

A special council was summoned for this affair, and eventually the King obtained from the King of Spain the reparation he demanded. It must be remembered that Louis was only in his twentyfourth year at this time, so that he already gave ample proof of his arrogant nature.

Precedence, rank, and etiquette were, however, in

these days matters of the first importance, not only in France, but in every European country. Louis the Fourteenth, in pursuance of his usual policy of self-exaltation, drew up a new code of etiquette, which filled several volumes. It had, it is true, the merit of settling dangerous and often sanguinary disputes, but it enslaved in a puerile manner every action of his life ; indeed, every hour of his day. The most rigid etiquette ruled the camp, as well as the Court, when the King took the field. Even during the hardships of a campaign, a marshal considered it a distinction of the highest order to be invited to sit at the King’s table. While at Paris no one, not even the Dauphin, was allowed to enjoy that privilege. Brienne says that

who married the Duke of Lorraine, when she came to Versailles was

never allowed to sit on anything higher than a footstool in the presence of her father and mother, though her mother was greatly attached to her. The sole object of all these rules was to augment the majesty of the King at the cost of the pride and standing of the nobility. The nobility had no option but to adopt them, and outwardly they adopted them cheerfully, for in some ways they pandered to their vanity, but behind the scenes they revenged themselves hy publishing satires at the expense of the dispenser of all these favours. It is not surprising that in the days preceding the Revolution the liberal-minded members of the aristocracy threw themselves heart and soul into the new movement, which promised them enfranchisement from this loathsome weight of subjection. Nor can it be wondered at that Marie Antoinette, fresh from the rural

simplicity of Schoenbrunn, should try to escape from her gilded prison at Versailles to the seclusion of the Petit Trianon, where

she could indulge in unconventional intercourse with her friends. So long as this pompous and puerile folly was overshadowed by the

during the years he served as Secretary of State he only twice shared the King’s supper. The first time was on board a boat near Bordeaux.

Having boasted tremendously of the distinction, he adds : ‘I didn’t eat next him, but at the sideboard off a dish from the King’s cadenas,

which he gave me with his own hand.’

military and personal grandeur of Louis the Fourteenth, it was tole— rated by public opinion; but under the levity of Louis the Fifteenth, and the effeteness of his successor, it became unbearable and inexcusable. Yet, again, the entire fabric of the French Monarchy had

These Garlands were cases of become so obsolete towards the end of the last century, that its

gold or silver, containing the small plate which only the King and Queen and some few princes of the blood were allowed to use.

Originally adopted as a precaution against poison they were fastened

with a padlock—hence the name. An extract from the ‘ Code of Rights,’ mentioned above, will show how the most minute details of the King’s life were provided for in his elaborate scheme of

prestige rested only upon these trivial Observances, and it sustained irreparable damage even from these acts of Marie Antoinette, which

tended towards bringing royalty down to the level of ordinary mortality.

The wastefulness of the Court, and the multiplicity of useless offices maintained down to the time of Louis the Sixteenth, were

etiquette :— \Vhen the King left his bed it was ordained that the Great Chamberlain, or the First Gentleman, or the First Lord in \V'aiting, or some other great dignitary, should put on his dressing-gown, which the first valet dc chambre should hold. When the King received his shirt, which was always given by the First Prince, of the Blood, the first va ct de chambre assisted him in putting on the right sleeve, While the groom of the stole assisted him with the left.

When the King went to bed the same forms were observed, and it was of the very highest importance that the first valet dc chambre should unfasten his left garter, though we are not told whose duty it was to perform that office for the right one. The Queen, in this respect, was more fortunate than her consort, as we are distinctly

assured she was allowed to unfasten her own garters. To enhance the effect of these regulations, it will be seen the King arranged that those officers who came nearest his person should have the highest position and precedence. In practice these rules of etiquette had results contrary to all natural feeling as well as sentiment. For

another prime source of public discontent and disaffection. Among the minor ofi‘ices established during the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, in the household of the younger princes of the blood, were, for instance, ‘ four overseers of the roast meat,’ ‘one chafewax,’ ‘ four

barbers,’ ‘ one doctor and two valets to the pages,’ ‘ a captain of the greyhounds,’ and many others equally absurd, to which high salaries were attached, of course, at the cost of the country.

Brienne touches very little on politics, and, when he alludes to

the visits of the King to the Parlement, dwells chiefly on the magnificence of his own attire on such occasions. His omission to give us an account of the famous scene which was enacted in the Parlement in the year 1655, when Louis the Fourteenth was in his eighteenth year, is to be regretted.

Numerous and conflicting versions of that

scene are to be found in contemporary memoirs. Louis the Fourteenth is supposed to have arrived from the Forest of Vincennes, and entered the Parlement in his hunting costume, with a whip in his

Nov.

697 1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE.

The Parlement had expressed a wish to revise a financial

d by a were then so illiterate, that they each had to be assiste

696

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

hand.

decree it had registered, and the King is declared to have said :—~

councillor or lawyer, who, in time, took their place in the

Every one knows the misfortunes that have been caused by the discussions of llarlement. I intend to prevent these for the future, and I order that the discusSIODS shall cease which began on the edicts you have registered. )I. le President I forbid you to allow these deliberations to continue, and you, gentlemen to ask fof

ble. and superseded the ecclesiastics, who were rendered ineligi royal the of ers minist and rs founde the These lawyers became authority. They were recruited from the middle classes, and eventu rights the them, assert to unable were they gh ally proclaimed, althou of the people. The French Parlement destroyed the authority of the barons by centralising the administration of justice, and by performing its judicial functions in the King‘s name and in his interest.

Thus, while in England the assembly of barons at Runnymede was h the forerunner of the establishment of popular liberty, the Frenc

,

them.

.

u

.4

r‘

( IV

On being remonstrated with that these deliberations were ‘for the wood of

the State,’ he answered, ‘ L’etat c’est moi ! ’

D

In those days there were no shorthand writers, and we may assume

that this epigram, if not actually invented for him, was very much improved by some admirer of the young monarch. Mazarin was then at the zenith of his power, and the King was still his obedient instrument.

However, if he did not use these words, he might have

done so, as he acted only too well up to their purport. An amusinovariant of this story is related of a very much later day—in factD within the last‘ few years.

A certain young lady was summoned

before a legal tribunal in Paris on a charge of having displayed too much action in her dancing at the Bal de l’Opéra. She presented herself before the judge with a most demure air, and was interrogated by him. ‘ “'hat is your name ? ’ he asked. ‘ Anastasie,’ she replied. ‘ Your age?’ ‘ Eighteen} ‘ Your profession—votre etat ? ’ he added sarcastically.

Anastasie was for a moment nonplnsscd by the

peremptoriness of the question, but, casting down her eyes, twirled a handsome diamond ring on her finger and adjusted a small velvet

cloak on her shoulders as she answered boldly, ‘ L'ctat c‘est moi l’ The tribunal and the court lost their gravity at this unexpected answer, and Mademoiselle Anastasie was acquitted forthwith.

The Par-lement which Louis treated in this fashion had, of course nothing but the name in common with the English Parliament: Until its abolition in 1790, it was, strictly speaking, a judicial body

and combined the functions of all the law courts of the realm.

The,

King in France always was and always remained the supreme foun-

tain-head of justice for the whole kingdom. Ile merely delegated those functions to a council, nominated by him, and in no way representing the people. From the very earliest days of the French Monarchy, when there was still a great confusion of supreme powers

there existed political assemblies which dealt with the affairs of the: State. Amongst these was the King’s Council, which administered justice in his name.

That council, the Cnria Dominis Regis, gradually

grew into a Parlement, whilst the national assemblies in time became merged in the States General. The Parlement consisted originally

Parlement,

ment

I’arlement, as it grew into shape, became the strongest instru

of the King's authority. \Ve have the opinion of Machiavelli that ‘the Parlement was the strength of the Kings of France.’

The Kings of France established the formality of having their laws and decrees registered by the Parlement. In 1527 Francis the First submitted to the I’arlement the Treaty of Madrid, which he had signed when in captivity in the preceding year, and then declared, because the I’arlement refused to register it, that it was null and void. This was merely a convenient excuse for breaking his oath. d At the same time, this formality of registration could not be effecte sm,

without discussion, and it led inevitably to the examination, critici

and even the vetoing occasionally, by refusing to register, of the King’s decrees. Thus during the religious wars of the sixteenth century the Parlement took a creditable part in favour of religious liberty.

Henry the Second soon put a stop to this by imprisoning five or six councillors and sending one to the stake. Richelieu was not the kind of man to brook the independence of any public body. When the Par— lement refused to register one of the royal decrees, the Cardinal sent for the magistrates, and made them listen on their knees, while, having torn up their decrees, he dictated another in which be condemned their boldness for having dared to oppose him. They revenged themselves by refusing for eighteen months to register the Letters Patent of the French Academy which Richelieu had instituted.

Adate in the history of the Parlenient of interest to Englishmen

was March 17, 1713, which witnessed the registration of the Act of Renunciation of the Throne of Spain after the. Wars of the Succes— sion. The Peace of Utrecht, which was actually signed a. month later,

could not be concluded until this formality had been complied with.

The Due de Berri, the grandson of Louis the Fourteenth, and

of the great feudatories, bishops, and great officers of the Crown, and for

the Due d’Orléans, the future Regent, were both present, with the dukes and peers of the realm. The poor young Due de Berri had to

the: first time, in 1344, it was thoroughly organised by the King, who fixed the number of its members. These included three presidents seventy—eight councillors, thirty-four ecclesiastics, and forty—four lay:

deliver a speech which he had learned by heart, but when the time came he could only utter the word ‘Monsieur’ which he did four

men.

In time the number was considerably increased.

Noblemen

times in succession.

On his return home, he fell into an arm—chair

crying out that he was dishonoured.

Von. XXIV—No. 141.

‘ They have only thought of 3 B

Nov.

697 1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE.

The Parlement had expressed a wish to revise a financial

d by a were then so illiterate, that they each had to be assiste

696

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

hand.

decree it had registered, and the King is declared to have said :—~

councillor or lawyer, who, in time, took their place in the

Every one knows the misfortunes that have been caused by the discussions of llarlement. I intend to prevent these for the future, and I order that the discusSIODS shall cease which began on the edicts you have registered. )I. le President I forbid you to allow these deliberations to continue, and you, gentlemen to ask fof

ble. and superseded the ecclesiastics, who were rendered ineligi royal the of ers minist and rs founde the These lawyers became authority. They were recruited from the middle classes, and eventu rights the them, assert to unable were they gh ally proclaimed, althou of the people. The French Parlement destroyed the authority of the barons by centralising the administration of justice, and by performing its judicial functions in the King‘s name and in his interest.

Thus, while in England the assembly of barons at Runnymede was h the forerunner of the establishment of popular liberty, the Frenc

,

them.

.

u

.4

r‘

( IV

On being remonstrated with that these deliberations were ‘for the wood of

the State,’ he answered, ‘ L’etat c’est moi ! ’

D

In those days there were no shorthand writers, and we may assume

that this epigram, if not actually invented for him, was very much improved by some admirer of the young monarch. Mazarin was then at the zenith of his power, and the King was still his obedient instrument.

However, if he did not use these words, he might have

done so, as he acted only too well up to their purport. An amusinovariant of this story is related of a very much later day—in factD within the last‘ few years.

A certain young lady was summoned

before a legal tribunal in Paris on a charge of having displayed too much action in her dancing at the Bal de l’Opéra. She presented herself before the judge with a most demure air, and was interrogated by him. ‘ “'hat is your name ? ’ he asked. ‘ Anastasie,’ she replied. ‘ Your age?’ ‘ Eighteen} ‘ Your profession—votre etat ? ’ he added sarcastically.

Anastasie was for a moment nonplnsscd by the

peremptoriness of the question, but, casting down her eyes, twirled a handsome diamond ring on her finger and adjusted a small velvet

cloak on her shoulders as she answered boldly, ‘ L'ctat c‘est moi l’ The tribunal and the court lost their gravity at this unexpected answer, and Mademoiselle Anastasie was acquitted forthwith.

The Par-lement which Louis treated in this fashion had, of course nothing but the name in common with the English Parliament: Until its abolition in 1790, it was, strictly speaking, a judicial body

and combined the functions of all the law courts of the realm.

The,

King in France always was and always remained the supreme foun-

tain-head of justice for the whole kingdom. Ile merely delegated those functions to a council, nominated by him, and in no way representing the people. From the very earliest days of the French Monarchy, when there was still a great confusion of supreme powers

there existed political assemblies which dealt with the affairs of the: State. Amongst these was the King’s Council, which administered justice in his name.

That council, the Cnria Dominis Regis, gradually

grew into a Parlement, whilst the national assemblies in time became merged in the States General. The Parlement consisted originally

Parlement,

ment

I’arlement, as it grew into shape, became the strongest instru

of the King's authority. \Ve have the opinion of Machiavelli that ‘the Parlement was the strength of the Kings of France.’

The Kings of France established the formality of having their laws and decrees registered by the Parlement. In 1527 Francis the First submitted to the I’arlement the Treaty of Madrid, which he had signed when in captivity in the preceding year, and then declared, because the I’arlement refused to register it, that it was null and void. This was merely a convenient excuse for breaking his oath. d At the same time, this formality of registration could not be effecte sm,

without discussion, and it led inevitably to the examination, critici

and even the vetoing occasionally, by refusing to register, of the King’s decrees. Thus during the religious wars of the sixteenth century the Parlement took a creditable part in favour of religious liberty.

Henry the Second soon put a stop to this by imprisoning five or six councillors and sending one to the stake. Richelieu was not the kind of man to brook the independence of any public body. When the Par— lement refused to register one of the royal decrees, the Cardinal sent for the magistrates, and made them listen on their knees, while, having torn up their decrees, he dictated another in which be condemned their boldness for having dared to oppose him. They revenged themselves by refusing for eighteen months to register the Letters Patent of the French Academy which Richelieu had instituted.

Adate in the history of the Parlenient of interest to Englishmen

was March 17, 1713, which witnessed the registration of the Act of Renunciation of the Throne of Spain after the. Wars of the Succes— sion. The Peace of Utrecht, which was actually signed a. month later,

could not be concluded until this formality had been complied with.

The Due de Berri, the grandson of Louis the Fourteenth, and

of the great feudatories, bishops, and great officers of the Crown, and for

the Due d’Orléans, the future Regent, were both present, with the dukes and peers of the realm. The poor young Due de Berri had to

the: first time, in 1344, it was thoroughly organised by the King, who fixed the number of its members. These included three presidents seventy—eight councillors, thirty-four ecclesiastics, and forty—four lay:

deliver a speech which he had learned by heart, but when the time came he could only utter the word ‘Monsieur’ which he did four

men.

In time the number was considerably increased.

Noblemen

times in succession.

On his return home, he fell into an arm—chair

crying out that he was dishonoured.

Von. XXIV—No. 141.

‘ They have only thought of 3 B

698

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Nov.

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE. 699

stultifying me, and of scheming to smother what I might have become. I was a younger son—they were afraid of the consequences.

They have annihilated me! I was only taught to play and hunt, and they have succeeded in making me a brute, an incapable.

This pathetic incident affords a painful proof of the principles on which the education of the princes of the day proceeded.

The nearest approach to the British Parliament among the insti— tutions of France, the States General, were a distinctly political body, comprising delegates from the nobility, the clergy, and the commons.

Brienne in his prison, states in his memoirs that he never went to see him without being delighted with his conversation; speaks of the magnificent collection of prints he had gathered, of his skill in drawing and playing the piano, and even of some religious poems he wrote, as well as novels. On his release from prison he lived in

The States General dates from the most dim and distant past of

French history, when there were assemblies of freemen who discussed

retirement until his death in 1698.

Brienne never mentions Louis

the Fourteenth but with the greatest respect and admiration. In the very last pages of his memoirs he praises his wisdom, his moderation, his patience, whilst always eulogising the King’s sense of dignity. He

relates how on one occasion the Dutch Ambassador spoke to the King in a public audience with his hat on his head :—

national questions, and were not unlike the VVitenagemote of Saxon

times. They were often summoned in the earlier times of the French monarchy; but when, under Richelieu, a compact, united, and civilised France bowed its will before a firmly established ruler, the King naturally shirked calling together a body which might infringe his authority, so that from the year 1614 the States General were never convened until the fatal days of 1789. However, to return to Brienne. We have seen that Brienne at the age of twentyeight enjoyed the confidence of the King, as well as a great political position. For some unaccountable reason—sand Brienne glances very lightly over this critical period in his career in his own memoirs, while other writers fail to enlighten us sufficiently on the subject —he suddenly fell into disgrace. It has been proved that his passion for gambling induced him to ‘take his advantage,’ as his patron Mazarin put it, at cards. But that would hardly have been a sufficient reason, in those lax times, for his expulsion from Court.

Another suggestion is that the King entertained a lurking jealousy on the subject of Brienne’s passion for Louise de la Valliere. At any rate, Brienne sold his office to M. de Lionne for 900,000 livres, having

refused double the sum for it on a previous occasion. Shortly after— wards he lost his wife, and entered a religious congregation, where he qualified for the first step in the priesthood; but he soon changed his mind, returned to society, and gave up his time to the cultivation of poetry and art. This led him into a course of dissipation, which so angered his family and the King that he had to leave the country.

He went to Germany, and found an asylum at the Court of the Duke of Mecklenburg, with whose wife he is alleged to have carried on an intrigue. History is very obscure on these points, but, whether on the ground first stated, or any other, he was recalled to France, and

at once imprisoned at St. Lazare under the pretext of lunacy.

He

was confined there for eighteen years; and, considering that his

memoirs were written during that period, that they display great lucidity of mind, and the most perfect recollection of events and even conversations of a period long before, the charge of insanity must be discarded. The Abbé de Choisy, who was often allowed to visit

‘ You speak very proudly,’ says the King, ‘ M. l’Ambassadeur.

Another King,

less patient, would order you to be thrown out of the Window.7

\Vithout giving

him time to answer, Louis turned to me and said, ‘ Complain to his master by my Ambassador.’ The Dutchman changed colour and took off his hat. I followed the King into his study, and he said, ‘That brewer of beer is iiisolent.’ ‘Certainly, sire,’ I replied; ‘ I had a mind to throw his hat down at your .feet.’ ‘ l'ou would have done wrong, Brienne. He shall pay for the sneer, or I Will show him who is

master.’ This was the cause of the treaty of commerce with Holland being broken off. On another occasion, when I was young and thoughtless, I was galloping behind the King in the gardens of St. Germain. I was riding on a fiery mare, and, being hit by the Due de Joyeuse, I cannoned against the King’s horse, and he was inuch shaken. I threw myself on the ground, and begged his pardon, and seeing me in that position, he merely said, ‘Another time don’t gallop so'close behind me. Get up. It was the Dukes fault.’ He gave me his hand, which I never kissed so ardently, often as I had done so before and after.

Whether it was the outcome of an aristocratic reverence for the King, or of the consciousness of guilt, Brienne, in the course of his memoirs, never displays the least irritation against him. Every page

of his book glows with admiration for the sovereign with whom he was associated in the most brilliant epoch of his life. Louis the Fourteenth, especially in his earlier years, had the faculty of inspiring those with whom he came into contact with a boundless admiration. To estimate fairly his character, we should not forget the chivalrous Prince of the days of Louise de la Valliére in the infatuated and intolerant tyrant of those of Madame de Maintenon. We must remember, as well, that from the very remotest era of the French Monarchy, the

King was looked upon as the incarnation of France.

As far back as

the year 1346, when after the battle of Cregy, Philip the Sixth fled for

his life, and sought refuge at the Castle of Broyes, he replied to its governor, who asked ‘Who is there?’ ‘Open your gates to the fortune of France!’ These words are redolent of the whole spirit of French history. The King was always considered, and actually was, the fortune of France,’ and down to Louis the Fourteenth the power and glory of France were identified with the personality of the king.

Louis, with a thorough knowledge of the character of his people, utilised this sentiment for the advancement of his own ends and the 3132

698

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Nov.

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE COMTE DE BRIENNE. 699

stultifying me, and of scheming to smother what I might have become. I was a younger son—they were afraid of the consequences.

They have annihilated me! I was only taught to play and hunt, and they have succeeded in making me a brute, an incapable.

This pathetic incident affords a painful proof of the principles on which the education of the princes of the day proceeded.

The nearest approach to the British Parliament among the insti— tutions of France, the States General, were a distinctly political body, comprising delegates from the nobility, the clergy, and the commons.

Brienne in his prison, states in his memoirs that he never went to see him without being delighted with his conversation; speaks of the magnificent collection of prints he had gathered, of his skill in drawing and playing the piano, and even of some religious poems he wrote, as well as novels. On his release from prison he lived in

The States General dates from the most dim and distant past of

French history, when there were assemblies of freemen who discussed

retirement until his death in 1698.

Brienne never mentions Louis

the Fourteenth but with the greatest respect and admiration. In the very last pages of his memoirs he praises his wisdom, his moderation, his patience, whilst always eulogising the King’s sense of dignity. He

relates how on one occasion the Dutch Ambassador spoke to the King in a public audience with his hat on his head :—

national questions, and were not unlike the VVitenagemote of Saxon

times. They were often summoned in the earlier times of the French monarchy; but when, under Richelieu, a compact, united, and civilised France bowed its will before a firmly established ruler, the King naturally shirked calling together a body which might infringe his authority, so that from the year 1614 the States General were never convened until the fatal days of 1789. However, to return to Brienne. We have seen that Brienne at the age of twentyeight enjoyed the confidence of the King, as well as a great political position. For some unaccountable reason—sand Brienne glances very lightly over this critical period in his career in his own memoirs, while other writers fail to enlighten us sufficiently on the subject —he suddenly fell into disgrace. It has been proved that his passion for gambling induced him to ‘take his advantage,’ as his patron Mazarin put it, at cards. But that would hardly have been a sufficient reason, in those lax times, for his expulsion from Court.

Another suggestion is that the King entertained a lurking jealousy on the subject of Brienne’s passion for Louise de la Valliere. At any rate, Brienne sold his office to M. de Lionne for 900,000 livres, having

refused double the sum for it on a previous occasion. Shortly after— wards he lost his wife, and entered a religious congregation, where he qualified for the first step in the priesthood; but he soon changed his mind, returned to society, and gave up his time to the cultivation of poetry and art. This led him into a course of dissipation, which so angered his family and the King that he had to leave the country.

He went to Germany, and found an asylum at the Court of the Duke of Mecklenburg, with whose wife he is alleged to have carried on an intrigue. History is very obscure on these points, but, whether on the ground first stated, or any other, he was recalled to France, and

at once imprisoned at St. Lazare under the pretext of lunacy.

He

was confined there for eighteen years; and, considering that his

memoirs were written during that period, that they display great lucidity of mind, and the most perfect recollection of events and even conversations of a period long before, the charge of insanity must be discarded. The Abbé de Choisy, who was often allowed to visit

‘ You speak very proudly,’ says the King, ‘ M. l’Ambassadeur.

Another King,

less patient, would order you to be thrown out of the Window.7

\Vithout giving

him time to answer, Louis turned to me and said, ‘ Complain to his master by my Ambassador.’ The Dutchman changed colour and took off his hat. I followed the King into his study, and he said, ‘That brewer of beer is iiisolent.’ ‘Certainly, sire,’ I replied; ‘ I had a mind to throw his hat down at your .feet.’ ‘ l'ou would have done wrong, Brienne. He shall pay for the sneer, or I Will show him who is

master.’ This was the cause of the treaty of commerce with Holland being broken off. On another occasion, when I was young and thoughtless, I was galloping behind the King in the gardens of St. Germain. I was riding on a fiery mare, and, being hit by the Due de Joyeuse, I cannoned against the King’s horse, and he was inuch shaken. I threw myself on the ground, and begged his pardon, and seeing me in that position, he merely said, ‘Another time don’t gallop so'close behind me. Get up. It was the Dukes fault.’ He gave me his hand, which I never kissed so ardently, often as I had done so before and after.

Whether it was the outcome of an aristocratic reverence for the King, or of the consciousness of guilt, Brienne, in the course of his memoirs, never displays the least irritation against him. Every page

of his book glows with admiration for the sovereign with whom he was associated in the most brilliant epoch of his life. Louis the Fourteenth, especially in his earlier years, had the faculty of inspiring those with whom he came into contact with a boundless admiration. To estimate fairly his character, we should not forget the chivalrous Prince of the days of Louise de la Valliére in the infatuated and intolerant tyrant of those of Madame de Maintenon. We must remember, as well, that from the very remotest era of the French Monarchy, the

King was looked upon as the incarnation of France.

As far back as

the year 1346, when after the battle of Cregy, Philip the Sixth fled for

his life, and sought refuge at the Castle of Broyes, he replied to its governor, who asked ‘Who is there?’ ‘Open your gates to the fortune of France!’ These words are redolent of the whole spirit of French history. The King was always considered, and actually was, the fortune of France,’ and down to Louis the Fourteenth the power and glory of France were identified with the personality of the king.

Louis, with a thorough knowledge of the character of his people, utilised this sentiment for the advancement of his own ends and the 3132

Nov.

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE OOMTE DE BRIENNE. 701

gratification of his own vanity, while not neglecting their interests.

On his accession, the one great obstacle to the unity and pacification of the country was the power of the feudal chiefs, for whose influence we can only find a parallel in England in the days of the Plantagenets.

to draw up instructions to his ambassadors and generals, listened to every grievance and every observation, and formed his own sagaCious and common—sense conclusions. It is strange—and Brienne corrobo-

700

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

rates their opinion—that all the historical records of the seventeenth

In times of foreign war, the nobility patriotically stood by the king; but when the country was at peace abroad, France was perpetually disturbed by their pretensions and intrigues. Their final subjection,

century are unanimous in asserting his want of education—in fact,

which Richelieu had begun by sanguinary means, Louis completed in

and powerful intellect, a tenacity of purpose—which amply atoned

a more diplomatic manner. Admirably qualified for the profession of an autocrat, enthusiastic yet dignified, gracious yet reserved,

for his lack of book learning.

despotic yet courteous, he invested the throne with a hitherto He made the favours he alone could bestow the

the point gives indisputable proof. ‘ They could not knowhim, he said, ‘ as there is sufficient material in him to make four kings and

most coveted objects of ambition, but prevented these favours from sinking into contempt by making prowess in the field the road to

the best evidence is an honest man.’ Of these abilities, however, . . , . . . in Louis s own hand, written notes, of volumes Six [contained in the

the highest preferment.

which are deposited in the National Library in Paris. When only twenty-three years of age, the period at which he assumed the personal management of affairs, and when he was, to all outward appearance, engrossed by Court entertainments, he began to make daily notes of his chief actions, to discuss them, and preserve them,

unknown glamour.

By this means he inspired the nobility with

a desire for military glory and a spirit of emulation which found expression in many deeds of bravery. Thus we read in Brienne that the Prince de Condé and Villeroi, while still young men,were attack--

ing the fortress of Dole, the capital of the Franche Comte, and were sitting in the trenches, when the Prince remarked to his subaltern officer that neither of their fathers had distinguished himself in the: late campaign.

‘Marquis,’ said he, ‘we must here vindicate the. honour of your father and mine I ’ The trench was a dangerous one

to pass; the attack was hot and sanguinary. Villeroi, who was commanding a regiment, was the first to pass, and, reaching the summit of the bastion, he cried down to Prince de Condé, ‘My father is satisfied; what says yours?’ ‘ \Ve shall try that he too will be content,’ answered the Prince, laughing, in the thick of the

fight; and in a moment he too was on the rampart.

The most exalted order in France—the Saint-Esprit—he gave only to those who had borne arms at one time or another. Brienne tells us, not without much heartburning, that it was withheld from his father because he had only distinguished himself in civil employ— ment.

But if Louis, for reasons of policy, refused to grant this order

except for military services, there was scarcely any other favour which those who were in his good graces could not command. A striking instance of this is afforded by an experience of the Marquis de Cavoye, one of his favourites, who desired to buy some land adjoining his garden, which the owner refused to sell.

The King, on hearing

of the refusal, peremptorily bought the land himself, and presented it to the Marquis. By such despotic exercises of his authority he strengthened his hold on the allegiance of the nobles. And at a time while dazzling his Court and people with shows of unexampled magnificence, while indulging in carrousels, ballets, festivities, and pompous representations of all kinds, be displayed a most remarkable capacity for work, found leisure to peruse the reports he received, and

his positive ignorance of elementary subjects. But he possessed great (natural gifts—perception of character, administrative ability, a lucrd That Mazarin recognised early 1115

great capacities, his reply to some one who expressed a doubt upon

as a means of educating his son in the art of reigning. ‘ Empires, he says, ‘can only be preserved in the same manner as they are

acquiredfiby vigour, vigilance, and labour.’

The Dauphin profited

very little by his father’s instructions. An insignificant man 111‘ all respects, his time was spent in hunting and gambling, occupations

which he occasionally varied by an essay in the field of gallantry.

In this latter pursuit he once, at least, received a check which must have been a rare experience. He was anxious to purchase a small but beautiful chateau in the neighbourhood of Versailles, the property of a convent, and which he intended as a residence for his mistress. The Abbess, learning his object, had the chateau sum.marily razed to the ground, as the only effectual way of defeating it.

The King, we are told, was for some time uncertain whether to be angry at the rebuke administered to his son, or to admire the independence and rectitude of the Abbess. Admiration ultimately . prevailed.

To its end Louis the Fourteenth’s life was full of ‘V’igour, vigilance, and labour ;= but the adulation which he received, the

long term of an autocratic rule which he never relaxed, his faith in the doctrine of divine right which induced him to believe himself .almost superhuman, warped his judgment and demoralised his nature, while they destroyed the self-respect and independence of the nobles, .and widened the chasm between them and the middle classes.

Louis the Fourteenth, in his efforts to establish his throne on the :securest foundation, was, in fact, the first great leveller of French

institutions, and a pioneer of the French Revolution. The second half of his reign contrasts so painfully with the first that we turn

Nov.

1888 THE MEMOIRS OF THE OOMTE DE BRIENNE. 701

gratification of his own vanity, while not neglecting their interests.

On his accession, the one great obstacle to the unity and pacification of the country was the power of the feudal chiefs, for whose influence we can only find a parallel in England in the days of the Plantagenets.

to draw up instructions to his ambassadors and generals, listened to every grievance and every observation, and formed his own sagaCious and common—sense conclusions. It is strange—and Brienne corrobo-

700

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

rates their opinion—that all the historical records of the seventeenth

In times of foreign war, the nobility patriotically stood by the king; but when the country was at peace abroad, France was perpetually disturbed by their pretensions and intrigues. Their final subjection,

century are unanimous in asserting his want of education—in fact,

which Richelieu had begun by sanguinary means, Louis completed in

and powerful intellect, a tenacity of purpose—which amply atoned

a more diplomatic manner. Admirably qualified for the profession of an autocrat, enthusiastic yet dignified, gracious yet reserved,

for his lack of book learning.

despotic yet courteous, he invested the throne with a hitherto He made the favours he alone could bestow the

the point gives indisputable proof. ‘ They could not knowhim, he said, ‘ as there is sufficient material in him to make four kings and

most coveted objects of ambition, but prevented these favours from sinking into contempt by making prowess in the field the road to

the best evidence is an honest man.’ Of these abilities, however, . . , . . . in Louis s own hand, written notes, of volumes Six [contained in the

the highest preferment.

which are deposited in the National Library in Paris. When only twenty-three years of age, the period at which he assumed the personal management of affairs, and when he was, to all outward appearance, engrossed by Court entertainments, he began to make daily notes of his chief actions, to discuss them, and preserve them,

unknown glamour.

By this means he inspired the nobility with

a desire for military glory and a spirit of emulation which found expression in many deeds of bravery. Thus we read in Brienne that the Prince de Condé and Villeroi, while still young men,were attack--

ing the fortress of Dole, the capital of the Franche Comte, and were sitting in the trenches, when the Prince remarked to his subaltern officer that neither of their fathers had distinguished himself in the: late campaign.

‘Marquis,’ said he, ‘we must here vindicate the. honour of your father and mine I ’ The trench was a dangerous one

to pass; the attack was hot and sanguinary. Villeroi, who was commanding a regiment, was the first to pass, and, reaching the summit of the bastion, he cried down to Prince de Condé, ‘My father is satisfied; what says yours?’ ‘ \Ve shall try that he too will be content,’ answered the Prince, laughing, in the thick of the

fight; and in a moment he too was on the rampart.

The most exalted order in France—the Saint-Esprit—he gave only to those who had borne arms at one time or another. Brienne tells us, not without much heartburning, that it was withheld from his father because he had only distinguished himself in civil employ— ment.

But if Louis, for reasons of policy, refused to grant this order

except for military services, there was scarcely any other favour which those who were in his good graces could not command. A striking instance of this is afforded by an experience of the Marquis de Cavoye, one of his favourites, who desired to buy some land adjoining his garden, which the owner refused to sell.

The King, on hearing

of the refusal, peremptorily bought the land himself, and presented it to the Marquis. By such despotic exercises of his authority he strengthened his hold on the allegiance of the nobles. And at a time while dazzling his Court and people with shows of unexampled magnificence, while indulging in carrousels, ballets, festivities, and pompous representations of all kinds, be displayed a most remarkable capacity for work, found leisure to peruse the reports he received, and

his positive ignorance of elementary subjects. But he possessed great (natural gifts—perception of character, administrative ability, a lucrd That Mazarin recognised early 1115

great capacities, his reply to some one who expressed a doubt upon

as a means of educating his son in the art of reigning. ‘ Empires, he says, ‘can only be preserved in the same manner as they are

acquiredfiby vigour, vigilance, and labour.’

The Dauphin profited

very little by his father’s instructions. An insignificant man 111‘ all respects, his time was spent in hunting and gambling, occupations

which he occasionally varied by an essay in the field of gallantry.

In this latter pursuit he once, at least, received a check which must have been a rare experience. He was anxious to purchase a small but beautiful chateau in the neighbourhood of Versailles, the property of a convent, and which he intended as a residence for his mistress. The Abbess, learning his object, had the chateau sum.marily razed to the ground, as the only effectual way of defeating it.

The King, we are told, was for some time uncertain whether to be angry at the rebuke administered to his son, or to admire the independence and rectitude of the Abbess. Admiration ultimately . prevailed.

To its end Louis the Fourteenth’s life was full of ‘V’igour, vigilance, and labour ;= but the adulation which he received, the

long term of an autocratic rule which he never relaxed, his faith in the doctrine of divine right which induced him to believe himself .almost superhuman, warped his judgment and demoralised his nature, while they destroyed the self-respect and independence of the nobles, .and widened the chasm between them and the middle classes.

Louis the Fourteenth, in his efforts to establish his throne on the :securest foundation, was, in fact, the first great leveller of French

institutions, and a pioneer of the French Revolution. The second half of his reign contrasts so painfully with the first that we turn

702

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

how

1890

803

with relief to memoirs like those of Brienne, where we see him in

his halcyon period. These memoirs remained in the keeping of Brienne’s descendants, and would have been published by the Cardinal de Loménie, Finance Minister of Louis the Sixteenth, but for the troubles of the Revolution. As a Minister, the Cardinal made

himself so hated by the people that they burned him in effigy and called him the Cardinal de l’Ignominie; as a priest he disgraced him— self by taking the oath to the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. Pro— scribed by Robespierre, he was sent to prison, where he died in 1794,

77/15 COM? Y5 / V5 (fl/58d1’tLVT.

it is supposed, by his own hand. He was an unfortunate member of a not altogether fortunate family. li‘mmixirxn RornscniLD.

01" late, owing possibly to the celebration of the centenary of the Revolution, an abundance of literature relating to the last decades

of the French eighteenth century has flooded the book—market, throwing into the shade the not less instructive, though less sensa— tional, era which comprised the reign of Louis the Fifteenth. Every reader is tolerably familiar with the celebrities of that reign, but it is not the least remarkable feature of the time that its minor nota— bilities played an important, if unconscious, part in precipitating the events of 1789, and should be remembered, because of the strange and striking example they afford of the character and customs of a system which brought upon itself such a tragic dissolution.

To M. .lules Cousin we are indebted for a curious and valuable sketch of the life of the Comte de Clermont, which has remained comparatively unknown. It was printed, so the author tells us, on good paper, and in fine type, but the issue was limited, so that

it might minister to the enjoyment of bibliophiles alone.

Hf his hero the Comte de Clermont it must be confessed that, though of illustrious birth, he was not an illustrious personage in the other and more creditable sense of the word, and perhaps his memory would he better served by being ignored—ea remark which, however, might apply with greater force to many of his more eminent contemporaries whose higher responsibility enhanced their guilt.

He was the great—grandson of the great Prince de Condc and Mlle. de Nantes, a legitimised daughter of Louis the Fourteenth and Mme. de Montespan, and third son of the Due de Bourbon, and was born in 1709, a memorable date in French history.

France had

not been in such straits since 1420, when by the Treaty of Troyes Henry of Lancaster was made regent and heir to her throne. Her military power was humbled, her trade and commerce were paralysed by religious persecution and half a century of those wars which Louis the Fourteenth sorrowfully admitted on his deathbed he had loved too passionately. Decimated on the battlefield abroad, and by famine at home, and oppressed by the wanton exercise of seignorial rights, the people were suffering indescribable misery. The various branches of the administration were thrown out of gear by the absolutism of a

702

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

how

1890

803

with relief to memoirs like those of Brienne, where we see him in

his halcyon period. These memoirs remained in the keeping of Brienne’s descendants, and would have been published by the Cardinal de Loménie, Finance Minister of Louis the Sixteenth, but for the troubles of the Revolution. As a Minister, the Cardinal made

himself so hated by the people that they burned him in effigy and called him the Cardinal de l’Ignominie; as a priest he disgraced him— self by taking the oath to the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. Pro— scribed by Robespierre, he was sent to prison, where he died in 1794,

77/15 COM? Y5 / V5 (fl/58d1’tLVT.

it is supposed, by his own hand. He was an unfortunate member of a not altogether fortunate family. li‘mmixirxn RornscniLD.

01" late, owing possibly to the celebration of the centenary of the Revolution, an abundance of literature relating to the last decades

of the French eighteenth century has flooded the book—market, throwing into the shade the not less instructive, though less sensa— tional, era which comprised the reign of Louis the Fifteenth. Every reader is tolerably familiar with the celebrities of that reign, but it is not the least remarkable feature of the time that its minor nota— bilities played an important, if unconscious, part in precipitating the events of 1789, and should be remembered, because of the strange and striking example they afford of the character and customs of a system which brought upon itself such a tragic dissolution.

To M. .lules Cousin we are indebted for a curious and valuable sketch of the life of the Comte de Clermont, which has remained comparatively unknown. It was printed, so the author tells us, on good paper, and in fine type, but the issue was limited, so that

it might minister to the enjoyment of bibliophiles alone.

Hf his hero the Comte de Clermont it must be confessed that, though of illustrious birth, he was not an illustrious personage in the other and more creditable sense of the word, and perhaps his memory would he better served by being ignored—ea remark which, however, might apply with greater force to many of his more eminent contemporaries whose higher responsibility enhanced their guilt.

He was the great—grandson of the great Prince de Condc and Mlle. de Nantes, a legitimised daughter of Louis the Fourteenth and Mme. de Montespan, and third son of the Due de Bourbon, and was born in 1709, a memorable date in French history.

France had

not been in such straits since 1420, when by the Treaty of Troyes Henry of Lancaster was made regent and heir to her throne. Her military power was humbled, her trade and commerce were paralysed by religious persecution and half a century of those wars which Louis the Fourteenth sorrowfully admitted on his deathbed he had loved too passionately. Decimated on the battlefield abroad, and by famine at home, and oppressed by the wanton exercise of seignorial rights, the people were suffering indescribable misery. The various branches of the administration were thrown out of gear by the absolutism of a

8 04

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

May

1890

THE OOMTE DE CLERMONT.

805

despot who was past the age to correct the abuses which his arrogance, his egotism, and his bigotry had caused. Nevertheless, all classes of the population submitted to the tyranny of Louis the Four-

ated by them, that the premature deaths of the lineal descendants of the sovereign were laid to his charge, and at the funeral of the

teenth, and seemed to endure with indifference the scandals of the Regency and the profligacy of Louis the Fifteenth.

crowd.

It should be borne in mind that liberty of the subject, equality before the law, and religious toleration were then as unknown in

France as they are now in Russia; and it required all the vices and the long misrule of Louis the Fifteenth, and the growth of enlightenment and learning, to efface the glamour which the glory of the seventeenth century still shed on the darkening shadows of the eighteenth; and to dispel the idolatrous belief in the divine attri— butes of the king with which Louis the Fourteenth had saturated the whole of Europe.

‘ Unquestionably there are certain functions,” were

the words which he had written for the instruction of the dauphin, ‘in which taking the place of God we seem to participate in His knowledge as well as in His authority. . . . Exercising on earth an entirely divine function, we must try to appear incapable of the agitations which can detract from it. . . . Everything that exists in our state, of whatever nature it may he, belongs to us; the coin which is in our cash-box, that which is in the hands of the treasury, or that which we grant to the trade of our people.’

For some time these demoralising and corroding principles had been silently, but surely, undermining the old order of things.

Their effects became manifest in 171.3, when, on the death of Louis

the Fourteenth, a cry of relief went. up through the land, and the man who had been deified in his lifetime was spoken of as a good riddance the moment he was gone. The country was secured by the Peace of Utrecht from all external danger, but was thoroughly exhausted, and longed for a rest of which it could never be certain

while the breath remained in the old king.

()f the great statesmen,

warriors, and writers whom he had honoured, none were left to

mourn the sovereign who had ended his days in a gloomy and priestridden court, or to assist his successor with their experience.

A new

generation had sprung up that had long chafed under severe restraint, and on the death of the monarch who had kept it in subjection broke into the most extravagant license with all the recklessness of youth and the vivacity of its race.

On the throne sat a child of five, surrounded by a host of legitimate and legitimised princes and princesses, who had inherited all the arrogance, but none of the commanding qualities, of their blood,

and used their position solely for the furtherance of their personal ends, and in utter contempt of the commonweal. The Duo d’Orleans was regent by right of birth, but during the last years of the previous reign he had been kept back in disgrace by the influence of the legitimised children of the king. So artfully had he been calumni—

Duke of Burgundy he was nearly torn to pieces by the infuriated

(tne of the first acts of the new government was to annul

by parliamentary decree the will of Louis the Fourteenth, and to

order that the legitimised princes should lose their royal rank and be ineligible for the succession to the throne. For the first time in French history the royal authority was represented in the State documents as a mandate, so that there was no longer any question of its sacred origin or inviolable character.

The nation, under this

new dispensation, had the right. to dispose of itself, the monarchy being regarded as a mere contract, which the contracting parties had the right to revoke. In this manner the first step was taken towards the revolution.

Such was the state of affairs during the infancy of the Comte de Clermont. As a younger son he was condemned by the prevailing system of primogeniture to forego his share of the ancestral inherits ance, and was marked out for the Church from his birth. The hard— ship of his lot, however, was not as great as might. be supposed.

France was studded with monasteries and convents, possessing rich endowments, the wealthiest of which were exclusively reserved for the benefit of the nobility. Remiremont and Fontevrault, the former situated in the Vosges, the latter near the Loire, were two small principalities whose abbeys enjoyed a splendid income, position, and privileges. To be admitted into the chapter of Remiremont, an unblemished ancestry extending over two centuries was essential, and when the daughter of Gaston d’Orléans, brother of Louis the Thirteenth, expressed the desire to become its abbess, she was refused, on the ground that the house of Bourbon, by its alliance with the

Medici, had derogated from its position. Fontevrault had five churches, its possessions and authority extended over four provinces, and it boasted of forty—five priories. Of its abbess, who in default of a legitimate, had at least to be an illegitimate princess of France, it was said that she wielded not a crozier, but a sceptre.

But it should not be forgotten that there were two kinds of abbes in France the clerical and the lay abbé. The needy offspring of a wide-spreading aristocracy, the «Me (cu pctit 0011815, had nothing of the ecclesiastic about him but the garb, and used all the art at his

command to obtain the favour of the great ladies, and the patronage of the great nobles, to secure the reversion of a wealthy abbey en. cmmnemle, with whose religious duties he would have no concern, but whose revenues he could squander at his ease. These abbeys ea

conmnemlc were conferred by the king on lay clerics and by right, one—third of their revenue only could be appropriated by the abbé, while of the other two-thirds, one~third should go for alms and the

VOL. XXVIl.—No. 159.

3 F

8 04

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

May

1890

THE OOMTE DE CLERMONT.

805

despot who was past the age to correct the abuses which his arrogance, his egotism, and his bigotry had caused. Nevertheless, all classes of the population submitted to the tyranny of Louis the Four-

ated by them, that the premature deaths of the lineal descendants of the sovereign were laid to his charge, and at the funeral of the

teenth, and seemed to endure with indifference the scandals of the Regency and the profligacy of Louis the Fifteenth.

crowd.

It should be borne in mind that liberty of the subject, equality before the law, and religious toleration were then as unknown in

France as they are now in Russia; and it required all the vices and the long misrule of Louis the Fifteenth, and the growth of enlightenment and learning, to efface the glamour which the glory of the seventeenth century still shed on the darkening shadows of the eighteenth; and to dispel the idolatrous belief in the divine attri— butes of the king with which Louis the Fourteenth had saturated the whole of Europe.

‘ Unquestionably there are certain functions,” were

the words which he had written for the instruction of the dauphin, ‘in which taking the place of God we seem to participate in His knowledge as well as in His authority. . . . Exercising on earth an entirely divine function, we must try to appear incapable of the agitations which can detract from it. . . . Everything that exists in our state, of whatever nature it may he, belongs to us; the coin which is in our cash-box, that which is in the hands of the treasury, or that which we grant to the trade of our people.’

For some time these demoralising and corroding principles had been silently, but surely, undermining the old order of things.

Their effects became manifest in 171.3, when, on the death of Louis

the Fourteenth, a cry of relief went. up through the land, and the man who had been deified in his lifetime was spoken of as a good riddance the moment he was gone. The country was secured by the Peace of Utrecht from all external danger, but was thoroughly exhausted, and longed for a rest of which it could never be certain

while the breath remained in the old king.

()f the great statesmen,

warriors, and writers whom he had honoured, none were left to

mourn the sovereign who had ended his days in a gloomy and priestridden court, or to assist his successor with their experience.

A new

generation had sprung up that had long chafed under severe restraint, and on the death of the monarch who had kept it in subjection broke into the most extravagant license with all the recklessness of youth and the vivacity of its race.

On the throne sat a child of five, surrounded by a host of legitimate and legitimised princes and princesses, who had inherited all the arrogance, but none of the commanding qualities, of their blood,

and used their position solely for the furtherance of their personal ends, and in utter contempt of the commonweal. The Duo d’Orleans was regent by right of birth, but during the last years of the previous reign he had been kept back in disgrace by the influence of the legitimised children of the king. So artfully had he been calumni—

Duke of Burgundy he was nearly torn to pieces by the infuriated

(tne of the first acts of the new government was to annul

by parliamentary decree the will of Louis the Fourteenth, and to

order that the legitimised princes should lose their royal rank and be ineligible for the succession to the throne. For the first time in French history the royal authority was represented in the State documents as a mandate, so that there was no longer any question of its sacred origin or inviolable character.

The nation, under this

new dispensation, had the right. to dispose of itself, the monarchy being regarded as a mere contract, which the contracting parties had the right to revoke. In this manner the first step was taken towards the revolution.

Such was the state of affairs during the infancy of the Comte de Clermont. As a younger son he was condemned by the prevailing system of primogeniture to forego his share of the ancestral inherits ance, and was marked out for the Church from his birth. The hard— ship of his lot, however, was not as great as might. be supposed.

France was studded with monasteries and convents, possessing rich endowments, the wealthiest of which were exclusively reserved for the benefit of the nobility. Remiremont and Fontevrault, the former situated in the Vosges, the latter near the Loire, were two small principalities whose abbeys enjoyed a splendid income, position, and privileges. To be admitted into the chapter of Remiremont, an unblemished ancestry extending over two centuries was essential, and when the daughter of Gaston d’Orléans, brother of Louis the Thirteenth, expressed the desire to become its abbess, she was refused, on the ground that the house of Bourbon, by its alliance with the

Medici, had derogated from its position. Fontevrault had five churches, its possessions and authority extended over four provinces, and it boasted of forty—five priories. Of its abbess, who in default of a legitimate, had at least to be an illegitimate princess of France, it was said that she wielded not a crozier, but a sceptre.

But it should not be forgotten that there were two kinds of abbes in France the clerical and the lay abbé. The needy offspring of a wide-spreading aristocracy, the «Me (cu pctit 0011815, had nothing of the ecclesiastic about him but the garb, and used all the art at his

command to obtain the favour of the great ladies, and the patronage of the great nobles, to secure the reversion of a wealthy abbey en. cmmnemle, with whose religious duties he would have no concern, but whose revenues he could squander at his ease. These abbeys ea

conmnemlc were conferred by the king on lay clerics and by right, one—third of their revenue only could be appropriated by the abbé, while of the other two-thirds, one~third should go for alms and the

VOL. XXVIl.—No. 159.

3 F

8 06

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

May

repairs of the church, and the remaining third to the support of the religious community.

But lay cardinals, ministers, and princes of

the blood. asserted their claim to the same rights as the ecclesiastical abbes, and appropriated the whole income.

Cardinal Dubois drew

70,000Z. a year from his see, which he never visited once. The Abbe Terray, Finance Minister and Minister of Public \Vorks, built up a fortune at the public cost, which went chiefly into the pockets of the king’s favourites, and a conception can be formed of the magnificence of the residence which he erected for himself in Paris, from

the fact that he spent 400,000 francs on his bed alone. The Cardinal de Bernis, the impecunious younger son of an illustrious family, owed his preferment, at the age of nineteen, to the charm of his manners

1890

THE CON/TE DE OLERMONT.

807

the Comte de Clermont‘s second brother has become historic, and of him the words of M. Lacretelle convey all that is needful. ‘The

Comte de Charolais became one of the vilest scoundrels of the day.

He. began by murdering one of his servants whose wife he had been unable to seduce; and he shot a slater for the fun of seeing him roll

off the roof. Ile deserved the scaffold twenty times, and would have suffered on it had there been, under the monarchy, such a thing as

justice for a prince.‘ Of the princesses who adorned the house of Condé, Mdlle. dc Charolais—thc eldest, the brightest, and the most beautiful—signalised herself above her sisters by the levity of her conduct. From the diaries of the time we learn that, though she had the honour of

at fashionable supper parties. When he first applied to Cardinal Fleury for a place, he was curtly told to wait, and that he had no-

preceding Mme. de Pompadour in the affections of Louis the Fif-

thing to expect in his lifetime. ‘ Well, then,I shall wait,‘ he rejoined

enumeration.

to the octogenarian minister; and he waited not in vain. Mme. de Pompadour, whom he had conciliated by his graceful verses, gave him

of devoutness, of which some diverting reminiscences are extant.

teenth, the number of her previous and subsequent intrigues defies However, she varied them with an occasional attack

a pension and an apartment in the Tuileries, sent him as ambassador

One day fancying herself ill, and fearing that her last hour had struck, she cried out for the immediate assistance of a confessor, and a monk

to Venice, and then appointed him Minister for Foreign Affairs.

How Bernis looked after the spiritual welfare of the many thousands

from a Capuchin monastery, who happened to be the nearest at hand, was brought to her bedside. On entering the apartment. of the

committed to his care, and who were ground down to provide him

princess the good friar was transfixed with admiration and awe, so

with his income, can easily be surmised.

Many of the lay abbesses of France reflected as little dignity on the Church as their brethren the lay abbcs. One of the most,

that he dared neither move nor utter a word while the fair penitent unburthened herself of her lengthy narrative. At the end, making

remarkable of them was a daughter of the Regent, who, though

more notorious for her devotion to the Due de Richelieu than for

a low bow, and in a voice trembling with emotion, he muttered,

‘ Now perhaps her Highness will graciously permit me to give her absolution.’

any inclination to a monastic life, secured the removal of the reign—

For the advantage of these estimable relatives the Comte de

ing Abbess of Chelles in order to step into her place. In her capacity of Abbess she employed her time in hunting and shooting, arranging displays of fireworks, and in giving ballets and balls.

After the ceremony of her enthronement shc presided at a grand

Clermont was tonsured at the age of six, and was presented with half—

banquet with the Regent on one side and a nun on the other; when

the company had retired, the crowd was allowed to come in and scramble for the remains of the feast. In this way she showed her consideration for the poor.

To this career the Comte de Clermont, the youngest of three brothers, was destined.

The eldest, the Due de Bourbon—«the father

of the Prince de Condé of the Emigration, and ancestor of the Due d'Enghien, Napoleon’s victim—became the nominal tutor of the young Louis the Fifteenth, and shortly afterwards Prime Minister. ]{e amassed a large fortune :in three years, and during his short administration he excelled by his venality and corruption, at a time when those Vices were the monopoly of his class.

Ilis successor,

Cardinal Fleury, sent him into exile, and though he was allowed to return, he had to abstain from interfering in politics. The infamy of

a-dozen cf the fattest abbeys in the land.

Some of these he after-

wards was made to exchange for the Abbey ca commcndc of St.Germain—des-Pres, a monastery of the Benedictines, the richest ecclesiastical benefice of the kingdom. Besides a palace in Paris, the abbey owned the Chateau de Berny, on the Orleans road, and there Clermont passed the greater part of his life. Nominally he had his private apartments in the royal residences, but as these were often requisitioned without his permission for the use of distinguished visitors, he abstained from claiming them, and when he visited Versailles he found in the seclusion of a villa, in the Vicinity of the Parc aux Cerfs, a more congenial atmosphere and one more favourable to his pursuits.

Clermont lost his father a year after his birth, and was entrusted to the tuition of the Comte de Billy, an officer in the Conde household, who became first gentleman of his court, but died soon after

his appointment, leaving a son, whom Clermont adopted.

Of Cler—

mont’s education we have no special record, but we may gather that 3 F 2

8 06

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

May

repairs of the church, and the remaining third to the support of the religious community.

But lay cardinals, ministers, and princes of

the blood. asserted their claim to the same rights as the ecclesiastical abbes, and appropriated the whole income.

Cardinal Dubois drew

70,000Z. a year from his see, which he never visited once. The Abbe Terray, Finance Minister and Minister of Public \Vorks, built up a fortune at the public cost, which went chiefly into the pockets of the king’s favourites, and a conception can be formed of the magnificence of the residence which he erected for himself in Paris, from

the fact that he spent 400,000 francs on his bed alone. The Cardinal de Bernis, the impecunious younger son of an illustrious family, owed his preferment, at the age of nineteen, to the charm of his manners

1890

THE CON/TE DE OLERMONT.

807

the Comte de Clermont‘s second brother has become historic, and of him the words of M. Lacretelle convey all that is needful. ‘The

Comte de Charolais became one of the vilest scoundrels of the day.

He. began by murdering one of his servants whose wife he had been unable to seduce; and he shot a slater for the fun of seeing him roll

off the roof. Ile deserved the scaffold twenty times, and would have suffered on it had there been, under the monarchy, such a thing as

justice for a prince.‘ Of the princesses who adorned the house of Condé, Mdlle. dc Charolais—thc eldest, the brightest, and the most beautiful—signalised herself above her sisters by the levity of her conduct. From the diaries of the time we learn that, though she had the honour of

at fashionable supper parties. When he first applied to Cardinal Fleury for a place, he was curtly told to wait, and that he had no-

preceding Mme. de Pompadour in the affections of Louis the Fif-

thing to expect in his lifetime. ‘ Well, then,I shall wait,‘ he rejoined

enumeration.

to the octogenarian minister; and he waited not in vain. Mme. de Pompadour, whom he had conciliated by his graceful verses, gave him

of devoutness, of which some diverting reminiscences are extant.

teenth, the number of her previous and subsequent intrigues defies However, she varied them with an occasional attack

a pension and an apartment in the Tuileries, sent him as ambassador

One day fancying herself ill, and fearing that her last hour had struck, she cried out for the immediate assistance of a confessor, and a monk

to Venice, and then appointed him Minister for Foreign Affairs.

How Bernis looked after the spiritual welfare of the many thousands

from a Capuchin monastery, who happened to be the nearest at hand, was brought to her bedside. On entering the apartment. of the

committed to his care, and who were ground down to provide him

princess the good friar was transfixed with admiration and awe, so

with his income, can easily be surmised.

Many of the lay abbesses of France reflected as little dignity on the Church as their brethren the lay abbcs. One of the most,

that he dared neither move nor utter a word while the fair penitent unburthened herself of her lengthy narrative. At the end, making

remarkable of them was a daughter of the Regent, who, though

more notorious for her devotion to the Due de Richelieu than for

a low bow, and in a voice trembling with emotion, he muttered,

‘ Now perhaps her Highness will graciously permit me to give her absolution.’

any inclination to a monastic life, secured the removal of the reign—

For the advantage of these estimable relatives the Comte de

ing Abbess of Chelles in order to step into her place. In her capacity of Abbess she employed her time in hunting and shooting, arranging displays of fireworks, and in giving ballets and balls.

After the ceremony of her enthronement shc presided at a grand

Clermont was tonsured at the age of six, and was presented with half—

banquet with the Regent on one side and a nun on the other; when

the company had retired, the crowd was allowed to come in and scramble for the remains of the feast. In this way she showed her consideration for the poor.

To this career the Comte de Clermont, the youngest of three brothers, was destined.

The eldest, the Due de Bourbon—«the father

of the Prince de Condé of the Emigration, and ancestor of the Due d'Enghien, Napoleon’s victim—became the nominal tutor of the young Louis the Fifteenth, and shortly afterwards Prime Minister. ]{e amassed a large fortune :in three years, and during his short administration he excelled by his venality and corruption, at a time when those Vices were the monopoly of his class.

Ilis successor,

Cardinal Fleury, sent him into exile, and though he was allowed to return, he had to abstain from interfering in politics. The infamy of

a-dozen cf the fattest abbeys in the land.

Some of these he after-

wards was made to exchange for the Abbey ca commcndc of St.Germain—des-Pres, a monastery of the Benedictines, the richest ecclesiastical benefice of the kingdom. Besides a palace in Paris, the abbey owned the Chateau de Berny, on the Orleans road, and there Clermont passed the greater part of his life. Nominally he had his private apartments in the royal residences, but as these were often requisitioned without his permission for the use of distinguished visitors, he abstained from claiming them, and when he visited Versailles he found in the seclusion of a villa, in the Vicinity of the Parc aux Cerfs, a more congenial atmosphere and one more favourable to his pursuits.

Clermont lost his father a year after his birth, and was entrusted to the tuition of the Comte de Billy, an officer in the Conde household, who became first gentleman of his court, but died soon after

his appointment, leaving a son, whom Clermont adopted.

Of Cler—

mont’s education we have no special record, but we may gather that 3 F 2

808

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

May

it was not confined altogether to fencing, riding and dancing lessons; for at the age of fourteen, having lost a pet monkey, he announced the mournful event to his friends in a poem, and further com-

memorated the sad event in three rhymed epitaphs, composed for a mausoleum which he erected over the ashes of his deceased favourite. These verses were mere platitudes, it is true, but they gave some indication of a bent towards literature. A young prince could hardly be expected to grieve long over a monkey, even though

it were the most perfect of its kind, and we read that in the follow— ing year, when accompanying the young king on an expedition to Chantilly, Clermont fell a victim to, or was made a victim of, the

fascinating Mme. de Grave.

Her husband, though irritated on

discovering the intrigue, courteously and wisely forbore from in— terfering, and subsequently, when a lady indulged in a somewhat serious flirtation, she was spoken of at Court as mac female/flare.

A year passed, and Mme. de Grave was forsaken for a certain )Idlle.

(Quoniam, a damsel of thirteen, whose father kept an eating-house in the suburbs of Paris. These were the halcyon days for couples of incompatible temper the days of the [ell/'68 dc CHE/Let, when, during the administration of Cardinal Fleury alone, eighty thousand were granted or even sold for a few louis by ministers. Some striking

illustrations of the uses to which this summary power was put at times are afforded in the memoirs of the Comte de SCgur. There was in Paris a flower-girl named Jeanneton, whose beauty attracted the notice of the gentlemen of the Court, and the Chevalier de Coigny, happening to find her looking particularly sprightly one day, inquired the reason. ‘My husband was such a brute and such a

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMOIVT.

809

he experienced no difficulty in severing the ephemeral ties which bound him to her.

His cousin, the young Prince de Conti, who had

just entered the bonds of matrimony, was nothing loth to free him from his burthen, so that he might transfer his affections to the Duchesse dc Bouillon. The personality of this lady, who enjoyed the reputation of being the frailest of her sex, has been preserved for us in the well-known play of Adrienne Lccoam'cuo', though there she is confused with her step-daughter-in—law, the Princesse de Bouillon. The somewhat mysterious and dramatic circumstances of Adrienne Iiecouvreur's death, which was at the time falsely laid at the door of the Duchesse de Bouillon, but was in reality the result of a long illness, only partly account for the interest which still attaches to her name. The fact is, that she was endowed with qualities that are rare at all times, but were rarer still in those in which she

lived. As a woman she could not fail to be influenced by that laxity of morals against which there was no prejudice at the time, but her intrigues were never tainted with venal motives, and never

gave rise to any scandal.

She was beloved by the greatest general

of her day, and by Voltaire, who dedicated his most touching elegy

to her memory.

Though Lord Peterborough ventured to address

her with the words, ‘ Allons I qu’on me montre beaucoup diamour et

beaucoup d‘esprit,’ which illustrate the position then held even by a great actress, owing to her perfect tact, as well as to her great intel-

monster,’ she answered, ‘ that I have bought a letter-c (1c cue/(ct from

lectual accomplishments, Adrienne Lecouvreur‘s house became the resort of the best society, including the ladies of the Court. As an actress she entirely reformed the old stage mannerisms, and introduced that natural and unaffected delivery which it has ever since been the ambition of the French stage to preserve, instead of the traditional

the Comte de St. Florentin for ten louis to free me from him.’

pompous, artificial, and ranting style of declamation.

The

chevalier lost sight of Jeanneton for a couple of years, and when he met her again she was pale and dejected. ‘ Where have you been

all this time? ’ he asked. ‘ I hardly knew you again.’ ‘ Alas, sir,’ she replied, ‘ I was a fool to rejoice. My wicked husband had the same idea as myself, he too went to the minister and bought a lcttre dc cachet for me; so it cost our poor household twenty louis to get both of us locked up.’ For reasons of her own, into which we need not inquire, Mme. Quoniam also considered the presence of her

lord and master an obstacle to her domestic happiness. One bright summer afternoon she took her confiding husband for a drive in the Bois, and when he was alighting from his cab, a troop of archers seized him, and, before he had time to recover from his

bewilderment, he was handcuffed and shipped off to the \Vest Indies, and was never heard of again.

In the meanwhile Clermont spent an idyllic time in his Arcadian retreat at Versailles, and though he soon tired of Mdlle. Quoniam,

Her profes-

sion, which until then had been looked down upon with profound contempt by all classes, she succeeded in raising by her own efforts into something like esteem.

Clermont’s intrigue with the Duchesse de Bouillon was of short duration; and now, for a period of eight years, Mlle. de Camargo reigned supreme over his heart, his purse, his abbey, and his court.

With Camargo’s private adventures we are not concerned. She ruined many admirers of high degree, and lavished her fortune on others of her own class. Camargo, who was a genius in her way, was the (laughter of a poor music master named Coupis, but claimed descent from the old Spanish family of Camargo. But her assumed ancestry did not protect her from the jealonsies of the Green Room, nor did it ensure the rapid acceptance of the innovations she

sought to introduce into the art of dancing. Until her time, ballets consisted merely of a majestic or graceful kind of motion, and dancers Were, into the bargain, doomed to wear the tall, ungainly head-dress

808

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

May

it was not confined altogether to fencing, riding and dancing lessons; for at the age of fourteen, having lost a pet monkey, he announced the mournful event to his friends in a poem, and further com-

memorated the sad event in three rhymed epitaphs, composed for a mausoleum which he erected over the ashes of his deceased favourite. These verses were mere platitudes, it is true, but they gave some indication of a bent towards literature. A young prince could hardly be expected to grieve long over a monkey, even though

it were the most perfect of its kind, and we read that in the follow— ing year, when accompanying the young king on an expedition to Chantilly, Clermont fell a victim to, or was made a victim of, the

fascinating Mme. de Grave.

Her husband, though irritated on

discovering the intrigue, courteously and wisely forbore from in— terfering, and subsequently, when a lady indulged in a somewhat serious flirtation, she was spoken of at Court as mac female/flare.

A year passed, and Mme. de Grave was forsaken for a certain )Idlle.

(Quoniam, a damsel of thirteen, whose father kept an eating-house in the suburbs of Paris. These were the halcyon days for couples of incompatible temper the days of the [ell/'68 dc CHE/Let, when, during the administration of Cardinal Fleury alone, eighty thousand were granted or even sold for a few louis by ministers. Some striking

illustrations of the uses to which this summary power was put at times are afforded in the memoirs of the Comte de SCgur. There was in Paris a flower-girl named Jeanneton, whose beauty attracted the notice of the gentlemen of the Court, and the Chevalier de Coigny, happening to find her looking particularly sprightly one day, inquired the reason. ‘My husband was such a brute and such a

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMOIVT.

809

he experienced no difficulty in severing the ephemeral ties which bound him to her.

His cousin, the young Prince de Conti, who had

just entered the bonds of matrimony, was nothing loth to free him from his burthen, so that he might transfer his affections to the Duchesse dc Bouillon. The personality of this lady, who enjoyed the reputation of being the frailest of her sex, has been preserved for us in the well-known play of Adrienne Lccoam'cuo', though there she is confused with her step-daughter-in—law, the Princesse de Bouillon. The somewhat mysterious and dramatic circumstances of Adrienne Iiecouvreur's death, which was at the time falsely laid at the door of the Duchesse de Bouillon, but was in reality the result of a long illness, only partly account for the interest which still attaches to her name. The fact is, that she was endowed with qualities that are rare at all times, but were rarer still in those in which she

lived. As a woman she could not fail to be influenced by that laxity of morals against which there was no prejudice at the time, but her intrigues were never tainted with venal motives, and never

gave rise to any scandal.

She was beloved by the greatest general

of her day, and by Voltaire, who dedicated his most touching elegy

to her memory.

Though Lord Peterborough ventured to address

her with the words, ‘ Allons I qu’on me montre beaucoup diamour et

beaucoup d‘esprit,’ which illustrate the position then held even by a great actress, owing to her perfect tact, as well as to her great intel-

monster,’ she answered, ‘ that I have bought a letter-c (1c cue/(ct from

lectual accomplishments, Adrienne Lecouvreur‘s house became the resort of the best society, including the ladies of the Court. As an actress she entirely reformed the old stage mannerisms, and introduced that natural and unaffected delivery which it has ever since been the ambition of the French stage to preserve, instead of the traditional

the Comte de St. Florentin for ten louis to free me from him.’

pompous, artificial, and ranting style of declamation.

The

chevalier lost sight of Jeanneton for a couple of years, and when he met her again she was pale and dejected. ‘ Where have you been

all this time? ’ he asked. ‘ I hardly knew you again.’ ‘ Alas, sir,’ she replied, ‘ I was a fool to rejoice. My wicked husband had the same idea as myself, he too went to the minister and bought a lcttre dc cachet for me; so it cost our poor household twenty louis to get both of us locked up.’ For reasons of her own, into which we need not inquire, Mme. Quoniam also considered the presence of her

lord and master an obstacle to her domestic happiness. One bright summer afternoon she took her confiding husband for a drive in the Bois, and when he was alighting from his cab, a troop of archers seized him, and, before he had time to recover from his

bewilderment, he was handcuffed and shipped off to the \Vest Indies, and was never heard of again.

In the meanwhile Clermont spent an idyllic time in his Arcadian retreat at Versailles, and though he soon tired of Mdlle. Quoniam,

Her profes-

sion, which until then had been looked down upon with profound contempt by all classes, she succeeded in raising by her own efforts into something like esteem.

Clermont’s intrigue with the Duchesse de Bouillon was of short duration; and now, for a period of eight years, Mlle. de Camargo reigned supreme over his heart, his purse, his abbey, and his court.

With Camargo’s private adventures we are not concerned. She ruined many admirers of high degree, and lavished her fortune on others of her own class. Camargo, who was a genius in her way, was the (laughter of a poor music master named Coupis, but claimed descent from the old Spanish family of Camargo. But her assumed ancestry did not protect her from the jealonsies of the Green Room, nor did it ensure the rapid acceptance of the innovations she

sought to introduce into the art of dancing. Until her time, ballets consisted merely of a majestic or graceful kind of motion, and dancers Were, into the bargain, doomed to wear the tall, ungainly head-dress

81 0

THE NINETEENTH CENTUR Y.

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMONT.

811

May

of the former century, as well as the heavy brocaded gowns and

enormous hoops in fashion at Court. Camargo was disheartened by the failure of her attempts to reform the ballet in Paris, and she proceeded to London with a letter from an academician to the French Charge d’Affaires, who obtained for her an engagement at Covent Garden. There she appeared in two ballets she had com— posed, introducing for the first time that costume and style of dancing with which we are now familiar. When she returned to Paris her success was prodigious. Eight years of Camargo’s society having exhausted the affection of Clermont, he fell under the charm of

another votary of the terpsichorean art—Mdlle. Le Duc—who was destined to exercise a more durable influence over his life.

It may seem surprising that all the gossip concerning not only

every member of the Government but every social notoriety should have been chronicled and preserved. For this we are indebted to the peculiar disposition of Louis the Fifteenth, to whom the most secret actions and intrigues of his subjects were of more moment than the affairs of State, and who found in their details a temporary relief from his chronic affliction of the spleen. Every letter, before it reached its destination, took a circuitous route through Versailles;

and, in consequence, many a peer and a poet found themselves in the Bastille for having penned some joke at the expense of the king or Mme. de I’ompadour. lint not content with perusing the cor— respondence of his subjects, the king kept an army of spies at their heels to repcr; to him their most private conversations at their social

sixteen years of age he was appointed by Clermont to the command of a regiment, and left to join the army a thorough scamp, dreaming

only of plays, ballets, and suppers, an accomplished mus1cal dzlcttapte, but proved himself brave and devoted to the serV'lce of the king.

Two years of camp life did not diminish the attractions of the cozdisscs for young Billy, and Clermont decided that he should marry and reform. The fortunate person on whom the choice of the Comte had fallen was the daughter of a treasurer of the ‘Fleet, a Mdlle.

Moufle, whose large dowry was to gild the pill for Billy. Clermont put all his influence forward to bring the negotiation to a successful issue, but the watchful father would not be dazzled by the prospective advantages of the alliance, and instituted inquiries as to the career of the young profligate. In a series of letters, which have been, preserved for the edification of posterity, Clermont apprises ‘ Cupid, as he styled his adopted son, of the conception, growt.h,and ultimate failure of his plan. In these letters, which are chiefly written 1n the fashionable slang of the day—that then used in the harlequmades ——Clermont entertains ‘Cupid’ with accounts of the doings at the Chateau de Berny, of the hunts and plays of which life consrsted there, and finally breaks to him the news of the collapse of the matrimonial plot. A pamphlet which had been drawn up for M. Moufle by some friends, in which the record of .the young aspirant to his daughter’s fortune was set forth in detail, was the leading cause of this catastrophe.

the year 1753, we are treated to a biography of Mdlle. Le Due, whose father, a Swiss porter, employed his leisure in the management of

Moutle asserts (writes t‘lermont) that if you “'cl’t) to give up soldier-mg you would only return to the crapulous life you have always led, and either drag your wife into it or abandon her; that the only women whose company you frequent are of the worst character; that your companions are idiots and bandits ; that your only aim is tolive on other people, and that those who support you would be the first to suffer from your tricks. )I. Moutle consequently asks me to cancel the en— gagement, and I think that, rather than get into the law courts, where probably .8. great many things would come out which you would not like to be known, 1t 13

a wine shop.

better for me to assent.

gatherings.

A minister, the Comte de )Iaurepas, was exiled from

Paris for having written a satirical song concerning the king and his favourite, though it was only given for the amusement of a private supper party. In one of the police reports made to the king, in

The details of her life before she captivated Clermont

may have amused her splenetic sovereign, but would hardly bear repetition. Whether, as one diarist states, Clermont was fascinated

by her as she laughed and joked at the bar of her father’s wine shop, or whether, as another tells us, he was attracted by her pirouettes on

the stage, is immaterial—though either would be equally significant of his mode of life. At any rate, the young lady suited his disposition so well that they never parted again. All the extravagance and dissipation he had indulged in with Camargo were repeated in a more exaggerated form, and the abbey palace was turned into a pandemo— nium.

This was the home in which Clermont’s adopted son, young Billy, received his education, and where it is needless to say he was not exactly inculcated with the discipline of a Benedictine monk. At.

Such had been the fruits of the education of a young nobleman at the hands of a royal prince and an ecclesiastic, in the early part

of the reign of Louis the Fifteenth. To console Billy for the loss of the dowry, Clermont endeavoured to obtain for him the military-order of St. Louis, but before the cross was pinned on his breast he died 1n camp, prematurely exhausted by his excesses.

In spite of his enormous income Clermont was unable to meet

his liabilities, and was obliged to sell his Duchy of Chateaurolux t0 the king, who bestowed it shortly afterwards on a fresh favourite.

It is almost pathetic to note the penny—wise foolishness by which While staying at Versailles he Clermont sought to retrench. asserted a privilege as a royal prince to frank his letters; but Louls

81 0

THE NINETEENTH CENTUR Y.

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMONT.

811

May

of the former century, as well as the heavy brocaded gowns and

enormous hoops in fashion at Court. Camargo was disheartened by the failure of her attempts to reform the ballet in Paris, and she proceeded to London with a letter from an academician to the French Charge d’Affaires, who obtained for her an engagement at Covent Garden. There she appeared in two ballets she had com— posed, introducing for the first time that costume and style of dancing with which we are now familiar. When she returned to Paris her success was prodigious. Eight years of Camargo’s society having exhausted the affection of Clermont, he fell under the charm of

another votary of the terpsichorean art—Mdlle. Le Duc—who was destined to exercise a more durable influence over his life.

It may seem surprising that all the gossip concerning not only

every member of the Government but every social notoriety should have been chronicled and preserved. For this we are indebted to the peculiar disposition of Louis the Fifteenth, to whom the most secret actions and intrigues of his subjects were of more moment than the affairs of State, and who found in their details a temporary relief from his chronic affliction of the spleen. Every letter, before it reached its destination, took a circuitous route through Versailles;

and, in consequence, many a peer and a poet found themselves in the Bastille for having penned some joke at the expense of the king or Mme. de I’ompadour. lint not content with perusing the cor— respondence of his subjects, the king kept an army of spies at their heels to repcr; to him their most private conversations at their social

sixteen years of age he was appointed by Clermont to the command of a regiment, and left to join the army a thorough scamp, dreaming

only of plays, ballets, and suppers, an accomplished mus1cal dzlcttapte, but proved himself brave and devoted to the serV'lce of the king.

Two years of camp life did not diminish the attractions of the cozdisscs for young Billy, and Clermont decided that he should marry and reform. The fortunate person on whom the choice of the Comte had fallen was the daughter of a treasurer of the ‘Fleet, a Mdlle.

Moufle, whose large dowry was to gild the pill for Billy. Clermont put all his influence forward to bring the negotiation to a successful issue, but the watchful father would not be dazzled by the prospective advantages of the alliance, and instituted inquiries as to the career of the young profligate. In a series of letters, which have been, preserved for the edification of posterity, Clermont apprises ‘ Cupid, as he styled his adopted son, of the conception, growt.h,and ultimate failure of his plan. In these letters, which are chiefly written 1n the fashionable slang of the day—that then used in the harlequmades ——Clermont entertains ‘Cupid’ with accounts of the doings at the Chateau de Berny, of the hunts and plays of which life consrsted there, and finally breaks to him the news of the collapse of the matrimonial plot. A pamphlet which had been drawn up for M. Moufle by some friends, in which the record of .the young aspirant to his daughter’s fortune was set forth in detail, was the leading cause of this catastrophe.

the year 1753, we are treated to a biography of Mdlle. Le Due, whose father, a Swiss porter, employed his leisure in the management of

Moutle asserts (writes t‘lermont) that if you “'cl’t) to give up soldier-mg you would only return to the crapulous life you have always led, and either drag your wife into it or abandon her; that the only women whose company you frequent are of the worst character; that your companions are idiots and bandits ; that your only aim is tolive on other people, and that those who support you would be the first to suffer from your tricks. )I. Moutle consequently asks me to cancel the en— gagement, and I think that, rather than get into the law courts, where probably .8. great many things would come out which you would not like to be known, 1t 13

a wine shop.

better for me to assent.

gatherings.

A minister, the Comte de )Iaurepas, was exiled from

Paris for having written a satirical song concerning the king and his favourite, though it was only given for the amusement of a private supper party. In one of the police reports made to the king, in

The details of her life before she captivated Clermont

may have amused her splenetic sovereign, but would hardly bear repetition. Whether, as one diarist states, Clermont was fascinated

by her as she laughed and joked at the bar of her father’s wine shop, or whether, as another tells us, he was attracted by her pirouettes on

the stage, is immaterial—though either would be equally significant of his mode of life. At any rate, the young lady suited his disposition so well that they never parted again. All the extravagance and dissipation he had indulged in with Camargo were repeated in a more exaggerated form, and the abbey palace was turned into a pandemo— nium.

This was the home in which Clermont’s adopted son, young Billy, received his education, and where it is needless to say he was not exactly inculcated with the discipline of a Benedictine monk. At.

Such had been the fruits of the education of a young nobleman at the hands of a royal prince and an ecclesiastic, in the early part

of the reign of Louis the Fifteenth. To console Billy for the loss of the dowry, Clermont endeavoured to obtain for him the military-order of St. Louis, but before the cross was pinned on his breast he died 1n camp, prematurely exhausted by his excesses.

In spite of his enormous income Clermont was unable to meet

his liabilities, and was obliged to sell his Duchy of Chateaurolux t0 the king, who bestowed it shortly afterwards on a fresh favourite.

It is almost pathetic to note the penny—wise foolishness by which While staying at Versailles he Clermont sought to retrench. asserted a privilege as a royal prince to frank his letters; but Louls

812

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

May

the Fifteenth, who resented on the part of his family even trivial abuses which he perpetrated without compunction himsel f, compelled Clermont to pay the usual postage. Then Clermont set up a right to escape the octroi duty for eatables conveyed from his chatea u to his town house. On one occasion, after a day’s shooti ng, he ordered his steward to send some game into town for his supper . The oflicial on

duty at the octi'oi station, who happened either to be especi

1890 ‘

THE COMTE DE OLERMONT.

813

decreed that every royal and aristocratic emblem should be erased from the Louvre. Morellet, with great presence of mind, surreptitiously removed eighty portraits from the Academy as well as its archives, and other documents, and saved them from the'fate of the artistic and literary valuables contained in other portions of the 1 cc.

‘

he flew into a violent passion, and directed his groom to admini ster a sound flogging to the official, which we are expressly inform ed was

Pa aThe Academy was reorganised in 1795, and finally established on its present basis at the Restoration. Its influence 'on French literature varied considerably according to its constitution, and it only became a close republic of letters in the democratic days ofiour century. At its outset it was very powerful, and the AcademiCians

applied with an English liorsewhip. These economies of Clermont's did not extend to )ldlle. Le Due, on whom he squand ered money

were generally recognised as the arbiters of literary'taste. French literature owes less, however, to the earlier AcademiCians than to the

ally vigi-

lant or out of sorts, detained the steward and laid hands on the game.

When Clermont arrived at the station and heard what had occurred,

more lavishly than ever.

“'e are told that though he abstained

from wearing a sword, he attired himself in the riches

t velvet, and

wore a powdered periwig; while we have a. graphic pictur e of Mdlle.

Le Due, as she drove one day in the Bois in a new equipa ge which her protector had presented to her. The carriage is descri bed as a barouchc made of cane, painted blue, and mounted

with silver.

It

was drawn by six ponies no bigger than dogs, with a postil ion richly costumed in red and silver, with a blue plume in his hat, and a chasseur in blue and white with a shake ornam ented with silver.

Mdlle. Le Due held the reins, apparelled in a gown covere d with diamonds, with her sister by her side; while in three succeeding chariots were her friends from the stage, dressed in her colours, blue and white. This exhibition was too much even forthe public of that day, and Clermont was lampotmed not only by the man in the street

but in some verses written by the king himself. Thoug h Clermont only devoted his energies to the prosecution of such frivoli ties as these, and was never able to persevere in any useful

undertaking, he

was not deficient in good instincts or worthier aspirations.

At the age of twenty he showed his appreciation of the value of knowledge by forming an association, at whose meetings he often attended, and which consisted of several branches, including letters , art, science,

and technical arts. Later in life his literary ambition induced him to become a member of the Academy.

The French Academy of Letters is one of the few instit utions which survived the ancient monarchy without losing its prestige.

It was suppressed by the Convention in 1793.

Several of the

Academicians had died shortly before the Revolution

who had not

been replaced; eleven had emigrated and were proscr ibed; seven

were imprisoned and three were guillotined ; three committed suicide and two died of fright. The last President of the Academy

independent efforts of the great writers of the seventeenth century, who were only admitted within the sacred circle long after they had earned a claim to that distinction, and who wrought a change not only in the style of French literature, but in the spirit and education of the governing classes, which had not been paralleled before, and has never since been surpassed. Spelling remained for. some time as erratic among them as it was in fashionable circles in England, but the ancient feeling that it was derogatory. for a man of quality to occupy himself with literature, and the practice of looliing on men of letters as parasites or jesters, was rapidly disappearing, and the tendency was setting in towards the opposite extreme. Nevertheless, long before 1662, when the Academy first obtained from Louis

the Fourteenth a permanent domicile in the Louvre, and was. placed under the direct patronage of the sovereign, it had shown its subservienee by electing the mere nominees of ministers and-grandees.

It had excluded, on the one hand, Corneille, during the lifetime of Richelieu, because of the cardinal’s jealousy of his eminent talents, and, on the other, it afterwards admitted a youth of seventeen, the

Marquis de Coislin, because he was the grandson of Chancellor Seguier, who naively recommended his election on the ground that he had a taste for letters.’

Even Louis the Fourteenth dabbled in poetry, and

submitted some of his compositions for the opinion of Boileau, Whose reply is worthy of repetition. ‘ Sire,” said the poet, ‘ there is nothing that your Majesty cannot do; your Majesty Wished to make some bad verses, and your Majesty has succeeded.’

Men of quality sought

entrance to the Academy and filled it to the exclusion of profeSSional writers, so that Voltaire could eventually say that at the Academy ‘ one meets dukes, marquises, churchmen, and, occasionally, men of letters.’ When a vacancy occurred, every section of society intrigued for its nominee, who often was a mere nonentity, and usually the

was the Abbe Morellct, who, with eleven of his colleagues only,

Court influence proved supreme.

passed through the Reign of Terror unharmed.

Academy asserted its independence, as when it declined to elect the

The Convention. had

Yet on some rare occaSions the

812

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

May

the Fifteenth, who resented on the part of his family even trivial abuses which he perpetrated without compunction himsel f, compelled Clermont to pay the usual postage. Then Clermont set up a right to escape the octroi duty for eatables conveyed from his chatea u to his town house. On one occasion, after a day’s shooti ng, he ordered his steward to send some game into town for his supper . The oflicial on

duty at the octi'oi station, who happened either to be especi

1890 ‘

THE COMTE DE OLERMONT.

813

decreed that every royal and aristocratic emblem should be erased from the Louvre. Morellet, with great presence of mind, surreptitiously removed eighty portraits from the Academy as well as its archives, and other documents, and saved them from the'fate of the artistic and literary valuables contained in other portions of the 1 cc.

‘

he flew into a violent passion, and directed his groom to admini ster a sound flogging to the official, which we are expressly inform ed was

Pa aThe Academy was reorganised in 1795, and finally established on its present basis at the Restoration. Its influence 'on French literature varied considerably according to its constitution, and it only became a close republic of letters in the democratic days ofiour century. At its outset it was very powerful, and the AcademiCians

applied with an English liorsewhip. These economies of Clermont's did not extend to )ldlle. Le Due, on whom he squand ered money

were generally recognised as the arbiters of literary'taste. French literature owes less, however, to the earlier AcademiCians than to the

ally vigi-

lant or out of sorts, detained the steward and laid hands on the game.

When Clermont arrived at the station and heard what had occurred,

more lavishly than ever.

“'e are told that though he abstained

from wearing a sword, he attired himself in the riches

t velvet, and

wore a powdered periwig; while we have a. graphic pictur e of Mdlle.

Le Due, as she drove one day in the Bois in a new equipa ge which her protector had presented to her. The carriage is descri bed as a barouchc made of cane, painted blue, and mounted

with silver.

It

was drawn by six ponies no bigger than dogs, with a postil ion richly costumed in red and silver, with a blue plume in his hat, and a chasseur in blue and white with a shake ornam ented with silver.

Mdlle. Le Due held the reins, apparelled in a gown covere d with diamonds, with her sister by her side; while in three succeeding chariots were her friends from the stage, dressed in her colours, blue and white. This exhibition was too much even forthe public of that day, and Clermont was lampotmed not only by the man in the street

but in some verses written by the king himself. Thoug h Clermont only devoted his energies to the prosecution of such frivoli ties as these, and was never able to persevere in any useful

undertaking, he

was not deficient in good instincts or worthier aspirations.

At the age of twenty he showed his appreciation of the value of knowledge by forming an association, at whose meetings he often attended, and which consisted of several branches, including letters , art, science,

and technical arts. Later in life his literary ambition induced him to become a member of the Academy.

The French Academy of Letters is one of the few instit utions which survived the ancient monarchy without losing its prestige.

It was suppressed by the Convention in 1793.

Several of the

Academicians had died shortly before the Revolution

who had not

been replaced; eleven had emigrated and were proscr ibed; seven

were imprisoned and three were guillotined ; three committed suicide and two died of fright. The last President of the Academy

independent efforts of the great writers of the seventeenth century, who were only admitted within the sacred circle long after they had earned a claim to that distinction, and who wrought a change not only in the style of French literature, but in the spirit and education of the governing classes, which had not been paralleled before, and has never since been surpassed. Spelling remained for. some time as erratic among them as it was in fashionable circles in England, but the ancient feeling that it was derogatory. for a man of quality to occupy himself with literature, and the practice of looliing on men of letters as parasites or jesters, was rapidly disappearing, and the tendency was setting in towards the opposite extreme. Nevertheless, long before 1662, when the Academy first obtained from Louis

the Fourteenth a permanent domicile in the Louvre, and was. placed under the direct patronage of the sovereign, it had shown its subservienee by electing the mere nominees of ministers and-grandees.

It had excluded, on the one hand, Corneille, during the lifetime of Richelieu, because of the cardinal’s jealousy of his eminent talents, and, on the other, it afterwards admitted a youth of seventeen, the

Marquis de Coislin, because he was the grandson of Chancellor Seguier, who naively recommended his election on the ground that he had a taste for letters.’

Even Louis the Fourteenth dabbled in poetry, and

submitted some of his compositions for the opinion of Boileau, Whose reply is worthy of repetition. ‘ Sire,” said the poet, ‘ there is nothing that your Majesty cannot do; your Majesty Wished to make some bad verses, and your Majesty has succeeded.’

Men of quality sought

entrance to the Academy and filled it to the exclusion of profeSSional writers, so that Voltaire could eventually say that at the Academy ‘ one meets dukes, marquises, churchmen, and, occasionally, men of letters.’ When a vacancy occurred, every section of society intrigued for its nominee, who often was a mere nonentity, and usually the

was the Abbe Morellct, who, with eleven of his colleagues only,

Court influence proved supreme.

passed through the Reign of Terror unharmed.

Academy asserted its independence, as when it declined to elect the

The Convention. had

Yet on some rare occaSions the

8 14

THE N]NE]’EEA'] '11 CEN1 'UR Y.

May

1890

THE COMTE DE CLERMONT.

815

Duc du Maine, a youth of fourteen, a legitimised son of Louis the Fourteenth, and when it chose La Fontaine in preference to Boileau, who, despite his sarcastic criticism of his verses, was supported by the king. Almost the last communication of Louis the Fourteenth with the Academy was two years before his death, when the cardinal Aeademicians refused to attend the meetings, on the ground that the distinction of an arm-chair, which they maintained was due to their rank, was accorded only to the officials of the Academy. Louis the Fourteenth solved the difficulty by presenting the Academy with fcmtcuils for the whole forty. .

For some time after the death of Louis the Fourteenth the Academy continued to be dominated by the clerical and aristocratic tendencies of the past, the belief apparently being that by electing persons of high degree it added to its dignity and power. But clericalism in

This speech put the Government against him, and being repeated in the private apartments of Versailles, the king exclaimed that he would do well to have Rousseau sent to Bicétre. “ It would serve him right," added the Comte de Clermont, “if he received a good thrashing.” ’ Despite its admission of such mediocrities as Moncrif, or of person-ages like Clermont whose only recommendation was his rank, the Academy towards the middle of the eighteenth century was regenerated by the genius of Voltaire and the Eneyclopaedists, the men who had ‘ some philosophical eonceits,’ and who were soon to

those days was not synonymous with religion, as the Academy might have perceived when it elected Cardinal Dubois, who boasted of his atheism, or the Abbe’ d’Antin, merely because he was the grandson of

the stores of their intellectual wealth, and lesser celebrities were

Mme. de Montespan. It had even come to the point that some families claimed to form an Academical dynasty. The Due de Richelieu was elected at the age of twenty-four, his only literary compositions having

been his love letters to the daughters of the Regent. Consequently towards the beginning of the eighteenth century the literary standard of the Academy fell to a low level.

A poetaster, Monerif by name,

more famous for his dancing and singing than for his verses, was recommended for election by Clerniont, though the only work he had produced was a history of cats, and his reception was marked by an

agreeable writer, but imbued with some philosophical conceits, has said that men of letters should take vows of poverty, liberty, and truth.

exercise such a paramount influence not on the Academy only, but

on the history of the civilised world. The election of the philosophers was due chiefly to the intrigues of their patrons or patronesses, in whose salons great artists, men of science and of letters poured forth petted and pampered in return for the charms of their conversation, or for a sonnet or a play in which the noble Meerenas was duly honoured and flattered. The whole atmosphere of Paris was literally redolent of literature and poetry. It was a continuous ebullition of the mind ; it was an epidemic which affected every class. The martial song which recently electrified the audiences of the cafés chanmms was a revival of the methods by which enthusiasm was then aroused about every political event. Every ministerial or parliamentary decree, every piece of social gossip or scandal, was at once

wittily commented on in verses which were set to apopular tune,and

incident which might seem more appropriate to an assemblage of

sung at public and private entertainments. In this way public opinion

undergraduates than to that of the intellectual luminaries of France.

While he was delivering his reception speech, some wag liberated a cat in the hall, which naturally began to miaow with tcrror, at which the audience burst into loud laughter and miaowed in unison.

was formed and expressed. The literary activity which at the begin— ning of the eighteenth century found an outlet in England partly in the writing of political pamphlets, in France gave birth to an innu— merable amount ofpoems and plays and songs; though, were it not that many of these works were bound by the best binders, and illustrated by the best artists, and are now on that account sought for by biblio— philes, they would long ago have been consigned to oblivion. But their authors while they lived, save for an occasional flogging or insult, had little to complain of, and meekly bore the inveterate disdain of men of quality for the plebeian, for the man who lived by his brains.

The peculiar relations between the patron and his literary dependent are graphically depicted in the journal of Collé. Collé himself never sought Academical honours, though he was better qualified for them than many an ‘ immortal.’ One of his plays at least has kept the stage, Uncpariicdechasse dc Henri 1V.,which he frankly confesses he adapted from Dodsley's King and the Miller. The whole of Collé’s journal is flavoured with a cringing obsequiousness to his patrons,

Moncrif, to add to his sorrows, was lampooned by the poet Roy, who,

however, paid for his wit with a sound thrashing. Poor Roy was destined to the lash, for, having ventured to lampoon Clermont after his election, the prince had him unmereifully flogged in a public thoroughfare, and, to aggravate the insult, he had the punishment inflicted by a negro footman. Horse—whipping appeared to have been the method specially chosen by princes and noblemen to remind men of letters of their social inequality.

On meeting Dancourt, a poet and

actor, at supper, the Comte de Livry warned him—‘ Beware, my dear sir, if you show more wit than I do before the end of this repast, I shall give you a hundred strokes with my cane.’ The following extract from Comte d’Argenson’s memoirs is more characteristic still of the peculiar contrasts and the political shortsightedness ofthe most brilliant society that ever existed. ‘Rousseau from Geneva,’ says d’Argenson, ‘an

8 14

THE N]NE]’EEA'] '11 CEN1 'UR Y.

May

1890

THE COMTE DE CLERMONT.

815

Duc du Maine, a youth of fourteen, a legitimised son of Louis the Fourteenth, and when it chose La Fontaine in preference to Boileau, who, despite his sarcastic criticism of his verses, was supported by the king. Almost the last communication of Louis the Fourteenth with the Academy was two years before his death, when the cardinal Aeademicians refused to attend the meetings, on the ground that the distinction of an arm-chair, which they maintained was due to their rank, was accorded only to the officials of the Academy. Louis the Fourteenth solved the difficulty by presenting the Academy with fcmtcuils for the whole forty. .

For some time after the death of Louis the Fourteenth the Academy continued to be dominated by the clerical and aristocratic tendencies of the past, the belief apparently being that by electing persons of high degree it added to its dignity and power. But clericalism in

This speech put the Government against him, and being repeated in the private apartments of Versailles, the king exclaimed that he would do well to have Rousseau sent to Bicétre. “ It would serve him right," added the Comte de Clermont, “if he received a good thrashing.” ’ Despite its admission of such mediocrities as Moncrif, or of person-ages like Clermont whose only recommendation was his rank, the Academy towards the middle of the eighteenth century was regenerated by the genius of Voltaire and the Eneyclopaedists, the men who had ‘ some philosophical eonceits,’ and who were soon to

those days was not synonymous with religion, as the Academy might have perceived when it elected Cardinal Dubois, who boasted of his atheism, or the Abbe’ d’Antin, merely because he was the grandson of

the stores of their intellectual wealth, and lesser celebrities were

Mme. de Montespan. It had even come to the point that some families claimed to form an Academical dynasty. The Due de Richelieu was elected at the age of twenty-four, his only literary compositions having

been his love letters to the daughters of the Regent. Consequently towards the beginning of the eighteenth century the literary standard of the Academy fell to a low level.

A poetaster, Monerif by name,

more famous for his dancing and singing than for his verses, was recommended for election by Clerniont, though the only work he had produced was a history of cats, and his reception was marked by an

agreeable writer, but imbued with some philosophical conceits, has said that men of letters should take vows of poverty, liberty, and truth.

exercise such a paramount influence not on the Academy only, but

on the history of the civilised world. The election of the philosophers was due chiefly to the intrigues of their patrons or patronesses, in whose salons great artists, men of science and of letters poured forth petted and pampered in return for the charms of their conversation, or for a sonnet or a play in which the noble Meerenas was duly honoured and flattered. The whole atmosphere of Paris was literally redolent of literature and poetry. It was a continuous ebullition of the mind ; it was an epidemic which affected every class. The martial song which recently electrified the audiences of the cafés chanmms was a revival of the methods by which enthusiasm was then aroused about every political event. Every ministerial or parliamentary decree, every piece of social gossip or scandal, was at once

wittily commented on in verses which were set to apopular tune,and

incident which might seem more appropriate to an assemblage of

sung at public and private entertainments. In this way public opinion

undergraduates than to that of the intellectual luminaries of France.

While he was delivering his reception speech, some wag liberated a cat in the hall, which naturally began to miaow with tcrror, at which the audience burst into loud laughter and miaowed in unison.

was formed and expressed. The literary activity which at the begin— ning of the eighteenth century found an outlet in England partly in the writing of political pamphlets, in France gave birth to an innu— merable amount ofpoems and plays and songs; though, were it not that many of these works were bound by the best binders, and illustrated by the best artists, and are now on that account sought for by biblio— philes, they would long ago have been consigned to oblivion. But their authors while they lived, save for an occasional flogging or insult, had little to complain of, and meekly bore the inveterate disdain of men of quality for the plebeian, for the man who lived by his brains.

The peculiar relations between the patron and his literary dependent are graphically depicted in the journal of Collé. Collé himself never sought Academical honours, though he was better qualified for them than many an ‘ immortal.’ One of his plays at least has kept the stage, Uncpariicdechasse dc Henri 1V.,which he frankly confesses he adapted from Dodsley's King and the Miller. The whole of Collé’s journal is flavoured with a cringing obsequiousness to his patrons,

Moncrif, to add to his sorrows, was lampooned by the poet Roy, who,

however, paid for his wit with a sound thrashing. Poor Roy was destined to the lash, for, having ventured to lampoon Clermont after his election, the prince had him unmereifully flogged in a public thoroughfare, and, to aggravate the insult, he had the punishment inflicted by a negro footman. Horse—whipping appeared to have been the method specially chosen by princes and noblemen to remind men of letters of their social inequality.

On meeting Dancourt, a poet and

actor, at supper, the Comte de Livry warned him—‘ Beware, my dear sir, if you show more wit than I do before the end of this repast, I shall give you a hundred strokes with my cane.’ The following extract from Comte d’Argenson’s memoirs is more characteristic still of the peculiar contrasts and the political shortsightedness ofthe most brilliant society that ever existed. ‘Rousseau from Geneva,’ says d’Argenson, ‘an

816

THE NINETEENTH OENTUR 1'.

May

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMONT.

817

combined with a mean contempt towards the actors who appeared in his plays, but we may gather one incident from it which is an exception to the general rule. Together with some of the most distinguished men of letters of his acquaintance, Collé had founded a society called the ‘ Caveau.’ with the object of enjoying brilliant conversation over the pleasures of the table, and submitting for mutual criticism the new works which members had written. The meetings of the ‘ Caveau ’ became so famous that. some gentlemen of the Court,

of the man, prevented him from gathering his share of the laurels of Fontenoy. He had been unable to resist the temptation of relating

bent on an hour’s amusement, made up a party to pay it a visit.

Archduke Charles to supply him with a guard. The Austrian commander—in-chief not only granted the request, but added an extra body of cavalry to ensure Clermont’s safety. When Clermont was well enough to move he sent one of his ofiicers to apprise the marshal of the fact. The French General set off under the protection of an Austrian escort, and on reaching the Marshal’s tent he was dismayed to find that it was defended only by a guard of honour. Such was military etiquette in the eighteenth century; but these courtesies

\Vhen they arrived they found the members just sitting down to dinner, and they were politely asked to join them, an invitation which

they haughtily declined, and they remained standing, plainly showing by their demeanour that they expected the company to begin at once to amuse them. They were rebuked for their insolence by complete silence, and they had to leave without enjoying the entertainment they had anticipated.

Owing to this unpleasant incident

the society gave up its meetings, and it was shortly afterwards dissolved. Some of Collé’s plays were written for the theatre at Berny, where he saw much of Clermont, who treated him with good-humoured

familiarity. In one of these comedies Clermont thought fit to alter a scene or two. After having discussed the alteration for some time With the author, Clermont called it ‘ our ’ play, then went on to speak of it as ‘ my ’ play, and, by a simple process of delusion, finally assumed that he had written it all himself.

But we must now go back some years and show Clermont in a

his exploits to Mdlle. Le Duo, and sprained his ankle while playing

at battledore and shuttlecock with her at the Chateau of Berny.

When he returned to the camp he was laid up with a slight illness, and to this circumstance we are indebted for a quaint illustration of the customs of belligerents in those days. During his illness his tent was in an exposed position, and Marshal de Saxe sent to the

between princes in no way abated the terrors of war, or saved the

people from being pillaged and oppressed both by friends and foes.

For the next two years Clermont applied himself heart and soul to his military duties, and earned unqualified eulogies by their punctual discharge, and by his conduct in the field. In September 1746 he

was nominally entrusted with the carrying on of the siege of Namur, though Marshal Liiwendal virtually directed the operations. ‘Sir,’ wrote Marshal de Saxe to Clermont towards the end of the siege, ‘ my respect for your Serene Highness increases as you prove your

different light, and in circumstances which, though they may seem

zeal on behalf of the service of his Majesty ; the skill and the spirit

to be strangely at variance with his ecclesiastical character, still fur-

you display in conducting those interesting operations deserve my

nish an honourable episode in his life.

highest praise, and leave nothing to he desired.’

To fight for their king had

‘ To be praised by

been from the earliest days of the monarchy the pride and privilege

you,’ replied the prince, ‘ gives me indeed a great opinion of myself.’

of the French nobility. But clerics (even lay clerics) were precluded from displaying their valour in the field, and with the exception of two cardinals they had obeyed this prohibition. The blood of the

The fall of Namur was followed by the victory of Raucous, where Clermont again distinguished himself, and Raucoux by the fall of Antwerp. At this stage of the campaign five royal princes, who were

Condés tingled in the veins of Clermont, and he easily obtained a

serving with Clermont, considered that they had done enough for

dispensation from the Pope enabling him to join the army; but after a brief stay in camp, he returned to the arms of his disconsolate Camargo, having merely succeeded in crippling himself by the costliness of his outfit and the extravagance of his entertainments under

fame, and returned to their pleasures. But Clermont stayed on. ‘ It is but the princes who leave,’ he replied on being asked whether he too was going. ‘I remain.’ These words were retailed in the streets of Paris, and Clermont became the hero of the day. After

canvas. However, in 1744, when he served in Flanders under Marshal de Saxe, he started in earnest on his military career—at last the Abbe

the victory of Lawfeld, which still further contributed to his fame,

had found an occupation congenial to his nature and worthy of his name. He literally revelled in the life. The smell of gunpowder suited him far better than the perfume of incense, and the swearing of his troopers more than the chanting of his choir. At the siege of Menin, of Ypres, and of Furnes, he fought like a lion, and General

de Beauveau was killed by his side.

An unfortunate accident, typical

Clermont had reached the turning point of his career, that crucial period which occurs sooner or later in every life, when the crisis arises which tests the stuff of which a man is made. To him such an opportunity was now given. Berg—op—Zoom, the eighteenth— century Sebastopol, considered to be an impreguable fortress, was to

be the next point of attack. The intoxication of success and the fumes of flattery had bewildered Clermont’s brain, and had apparently

816

THE NINETEENTH OENTUR 1'.

May

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMONT.

817

combined with a mean contempt towards the actors who appeared in his plays, but we may gather one incident from it which is an exception to the general rule. Together with some of the most distinguished men of letters of his acquaintance, Collé had founded a society called the ‘ Caveau.’ with the object of enjoying brilliant conversation over the pleasures of the table, and submitting for mutual criticism the new works which members had written. The meetings of the ‘ Caveau ’ became so famous that. some gentlemen of the Court,

of the man, prevented him from gathering his share of the laurels of Fontenoy. He had been unable to resist the temptation of relating

bent on an hour’s amusement, made up a party to pay it a visit.

Archduke Charles to supply him with a guard. The Austrian commander—in-chief not only granted the request, but added an extra body of cavalry to ensure Clermont’s safety. When Clermont was well enough to move he sent one of his ofiicers to apprise the marshal of the fact. The French General set off under the protection of an Austrian escort, and on reaching the Marshal’s tent he was dismayed to find that it was defended only by a guard of honour. Such was military etiquette in the eighteenth century; but these courtesies

\Vhen they arrived they found the members just sitting down to dinner, and they were politely asked to join them, an invitation which

they haughtily declined, and they remained standing, plainly showing by their demeanour that they expected the company to begin at once to amuse them. They were rebuked for their insolence by complete silence, and they had to leave without enjoying the entertainment they had anticipated.

Owing to this unpleasant incident

the society gave up its meetings, and it was shortly afterwards dissolved. Some of Collé’s plays were written for the theatre at Berny, where he saw much of Clermont, who treated him with good-humoured

familiarity. In one of these comedies Clermont thought fit to alter a scene or two. After having discussed the alteration for some time With the author, Clermont called it ‘ our ’ play, then went on to speak of it as ‘ my ’ play, and, by a simple process of delusion, finally assumed that he had written it all himself.

But we must now go back some years and show Clermont in a

his exploits to Mdlle. Le Duo, and sprained his ankle while playing

at battledore and shuttlecock with her at the Chateau of Berny.

When he returned to the camp he was laid up with a slight illness, and to this circumstance we are indebted for a quaint illustration of the customs of belligerents in those days. During his illness his tent was in an exposed position, and Marshal de Saxe sent to the

between princes in no way abated the terrors of war, or saved the

people from being pillaged and oppressed both by friends and foes.

For the next two years Clermont applied himself heart and soul to his military duties, and earned unqualified eulogies by their punctual discharge, and by his conduct in the field. In September 1746 he

was nominally entrusted with the carrying on of the siege of Namur, though Marshal Liiwendal virtually directed the operations. ‘Sir,’ wrote Marshal de Saxe to Clermont towards the end of the siege, ‘ my respect for your Serene Highness increases as you prove your

different light, and in circumstances which, though they may seem

zeal on behalf of the service of his Majesty ; the skill and the spirit

to be strangely at variance with his ecclesiastical character, still fur-

you display in conducting those interesting operations deserve my

nish an honourable episode in his life.

highest praise, and leave nothing to he desired.’

To fight for their king had

‘ To be praised by

been from the earliest days of the monarchy the pride and privilege

you,’ replied the prince, ‘ gives me indeed a great opinion of myself.’

of the French nobility. But clerics (even lay clerics) were precluded from displaying their valour in the field, and with the exception of two cardinals they had obeyed this prohibition. The blood of the

The fall of Namur was followed by the victory of Raucous, where Clermont again distinguished himself, and Raucoux by the fall of Antwerp. At this stage of the campaign five royal princes, who were

Condés tingled in the veins of Clermont, and he easily obtained a

serving with Clermont, considered that they had done enough for

dispensation from the Pope enabling him to join the army; but after a brief stay in camp, he returned to the arms of his disconsolate Camargo, having merely succeeded in crippling himself by the costliness of his outfit and the extravagance of his entertainments under

fame, and returned to their pleasures. But Clermont stayed on. ‘ It is but the princes who leave,’ he replied on being asked whether he too was going. ‘I remain.’ These words were retailed in the streets of Paris, and Clermont became the hero of the day. After

canvas. However, in 1744, when he served in Flanders under Marshal de Saxe, he started in earnest on his military career—at last the Abbe

the victory of Lawfeld, which still further contributed to his fame,

had found an occupation congenial to his nature and worthy of his name. He literally revelled in the life. The smell of gunpowder suited him far better than the perfume of incense, and the swearing of his troopers more than the chanting of his choir. At the siege of Menin, of Ypres, and of Furnes, he fought like a lion, and General

de Beauveau was killed by his side.

An unfortunate accident, typical

Clermont had reached the turning point of his career, that crucial period which occurs sooner or later in every life, when the crisis arises which tests the stuff of which a man is made. To him such an opportunity was now given. Berg—op—Zoom, the eighteenth— century Sebastopol, considered to be an impreguable fortress, was to

be the next point of attack. The intoxication of success and the fumes of flattery had bewildered Clermont’s brain, and had apparently

818

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

caused him to regard himself as a great general.

May

He was anxious to

conduct the operations, and on hearing that they had been entrusted to Marshal Lowendal, he threw up his commission and retired from the army. Had he been content to bide his time, to serve under an experienced general, and make himself thoroughly conversant with

the technicalities of his profession, he might have performed a creditable, if not a leading, part in the history of his country, and might have been spared much sorrow and humiliation in later years. But the vices and the frivolity of his nature had only lain dormant fora while,

subdued by the novelty of camp life and the excitement of personal danger. Before the end of the campaign he had already given evidence in some letters to his friends of the canker which had eaten into his soul, and which was bound to assert itself sooner or later

with all its malignity. In one of these letters, which teem with trivialities, and the style of which defies description, he relates that he has purchased a pair of ravens the size of turkeys, that they are

as black as moles, and are fighting with each other like devils. ‘ I shall have to put a stop to their fighting at once,’ he says, ‘as it altogether prevents me from telling you much that is of greater im-

portance—though I can assure you that this to me is quite important enough.’

So Clermont returned to his chateau and his friends, to Mdlle.

Le Duc and her satellites, and for the next ten years was entirely

engrossed by his passion for the drama, showing even more zest in the management of his theatre than he had evinced in fighting in the trenches of Flanders. Private theatricals had been for some time, and remained until the fall of the monarchy, the chief amusement and occupation of French society. Clermont’s aunt, the Dnchesse du Maine, a person remarkable for the smallness of her size and the greatness of her ambition, had always found time to take a leading part in the entertainments in her theatre at Sceaux, which were carried out on the most elaborate scale. Voltaire and his friend, the Marquise du Chatelet, had been her constant guests, and the great philosopher not only wrote plays for her stage, but acted in them himself.

To relieve the incurable ennui of the king, Mme.

de Pompadour, who was an accomplished actress, danced in ballets, sang in operettas, and acted in comedies in the theatre at Versailles.

Every great house in and near Paris had a stage of its own, where

the ladies of the Court, assisted by professional members of the craft, displayed their beauty and histrionic skill. In default of a Voltaire, Collé, Laujon, and other writers of less note, were constantly employed in writing operas, comedies, ballets, and burlesques for the 5.:theatre of Berny, where, under the personal direction of Clermont, they were performed by a company in which the leading

parts were filled by Clermont’s former officers, by Mdlle. Le Duo

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMONT.

819

and her old colleagues, while Clermont‘s aivlcs-(le-mmp acted as supernumeraries. The demand for tickets for these performances became so irksome that Clermont, in the end, for the convenience of his friends, moved his company to Paris, and set it up in a house in

the Rue de la Roquctte, close to the present jail of that name. Compared with the ];ctit'cs maisons, where men of fashion indulged their frolics under the shelter of a supposed incognito, La Roquette may

have. been considered a modest establishment, though the word modest could hardly be applied to the performances on its stage or to the theatre itself, Which was as luxuriously and lavishly decorated as the most coquettish boudoir. At Berny, Moliere’s and Corneille’s classical plays had occasionally furnished the programme, but at La Roquette it mainly consisted of burlesques of an obscene character.

The fair leaders of society, wearing black masks to hide the blushes that probably never came, were furtively driven to La Roquette in dark grey chariots, by coachmen and with footmen out of livery, to witness these performances from dimly lit boxes. \Ve further learn that in them an actress from the opera assumed the part of columbinc, while that of harlequin fell to a descendant of the great Conde, a prince of the blood, the Comte de Clermont, the Abbe of

St. Germain-des—Prés.

But the day of retribution was at hand. Ten years of extravagance had played havoc with Clermont's income and resources, and in 1757, with ruin staring him in the face, he was compelled to close his theatre and dismiss his company. Unfortunately for him, and still more for France, an important military command happened

to be vacant at the time. France, through her alliance with Austria, had joined in the Seven Years’ War, and had gratuitously involved herself in the task of fighting the greatest military genius of Europe.

The Marshal d’Estrées had shown much experience and prudence in the VVestphalian campaign of 1757, but in spite of his victory of Hastenbeck, was recalled and replaced by the Marshal de Richelieu, the favourite of the king and Mme. de Pompadour. Richelieu, on arriving at the seat of war, hastened, for reasons which have never been satisfactorily elucidated, to conclude the Convention of Kloster Zeven with the Duke of Cumberland, under which the allied armies

were bound to disperse. Without waiting to see the Convention carried out, Richelieu left for another part of the scene of operations.

Meanwhile, Marshal Soubise was ignominionsly rented by Frederic the Great at Rosbach, and then the allies, elated with their success.

repudiated the Convention. Richelieu was so ashamed of his carelessness that he asked for and obtained his recall. At this juncture Clermont applied to the king for the command of the army and it is impossible to decide which was the more astounding, the audacity of (Jlermont in making, or the criminal levity of the king in acceding

818

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y.

caused him to regard himself as a great general.

May

He was anxious to

conduct the operations, and on hearing that they had been entrusted to Marshal Lowendal, he threw up his commission and retired from the army. Had he been content to bide his time, to serve under an experienced general, and make himself thoroughly conversant with

the technicalities of his profession, he might have performed a creditable, if not a leading, part in the history of his country, and might have been spared much sorrow and humiliation in later years. But the vices and the frivolity of his nature had only lain dormant fora while,

subdued by the novelty of camp life and the excitement of personal danger. Before the end of the campaign he had already given evidence in some letters to his friends of the canker which had eaten into his soul, and which was bound to assert itself sooner or later

with all its malignity. In one of these letters, which teem with trivialities, and the style of which defies description, he relates that he has purchased a pair of ravens the size of turkeys, that they are

as black as moles, and are fighting with each other like devils. ‘ I shall have to put a stop to their fighting at once,’ he says, ‘as it altogether prevents me from telling you much that is of greater im-

portance—though I can assure you that this to me is quite important enough.’

So Clermont returned to his chateau and his friends, to Mdlle.

Le Duc and her satellites, and for the next ten years was entirely

engrossed by his passion for the drama, showing even more zest in the management of his theatre than he had evinced in fighting in the trenches of Flanders. Private theatricals had been for some time, and remained until the fall of the monarchy, the chief amusement and occupation of French society. Clermont’s aunt, the Dnchesse du Maine, a person remarkable for the smallness of her size and the greatness of her ambition, had always found time to take a leading part in the entertainments in her theatre at Sceaux, which were carried out on the most elaborate scale. Voltaire and his friend, the Marquise du Chatelet, had been her constant guests, and the great philosopher not only wrote plays for her stage, but acted in them himself.

To relieve the incurable ennui of the king, Mme.

de Pompadour, who was an accomplished actress, danced in ballets, sang in operettas, and acted in comedies in the theatre at Versailles.

Every great house in and near Paris had a stage of its own, where

the ladies of the Court, assisted by professional members of the craft, displayed their beauty and histrionic skill. In default of a Voltaire, Collé, Laujon, and other writers of less note, were constantly employed in writing operas, comedies, ballets, and burlesques for the 5.:theatre of Berny, where, under the personal direction of Clermont, they were performed by a company in which the leading

parts were filled by Clermont’s former officers, by Mdlle. Le Duo

1890

THE OOMTE DE OLERMONT.

819

and her old colleagues, while Clermont‘s aivlcs-(le-mmp acted as supernumeraries. The demand for tickets for these performances became so irksome that Clermont, in the end, for the convenience of his friends, moved his company to Paris, and set it up in a house in

the Rue de la Roquctte, close to the present jail of that name. Compared with the ];ctit'cs maisons, where men of fashion indulged their frolics under the shelter of a supposed incognito, La Roquette may

have. been considered a modest establishment, though the word modest could hardly be applied to the performances on its stage or to the theatre itself, Which was as luxuriously and lavishly decorated as the most coquettish boudoir. At Berny, Moliere’s and Corneille’s classical plays had occasionally furnished the programme, but at La Roquette it mainly consisted of burlesques of an obscene character.

The fair leaders of society, wearing black masks to hide the blushes that probably never came, were furtively driven to La Roquette in dark grey chariots, by coachmen and with footmen out of livery, to witness these performances from dimly lit boxes. \Ve further learn that in them an actress from the opera assumed the part of columbinc, while that of harlequin fell to a descendant of the great Conde, a prince of the blood, the Comte de Clermont, the Abbe of

St. Germain-des—Prés.

But the day of retribution was at hand. Ten years of extravagance had played havoc with Clermont's income and resources, and in 1757, with ruin staring him in the face, he was compelled to close his theatre and dismiss his company. Unfortunately for him, and still more for France, an important military command happened

to be vacant at the time. France, through her alliance with Austria, had joined in the Seven Years’ War, and had gratuitously involved herself in the task of fighting the greatest military genius of Europe.

The Marshal d’Estrées had shown much experience and prudence in the VVestphalian campaign of 1757, but in spite of his victory of Hastenbeck, was recalled and replaced by the Marshal de Richelieu, the favourite of the king and Mme. de Pompadour. Richelieu, on arriving at the seat of war, hastened, for reasons which have never been satisfactorily elucidated, to conclude the Convention of Kloster Zeven with the Duke of Cumberland, under which the allied armies

were bound to disperse. Without waiting to see the Convention carried out, Richelieu left for another part of the scene of operations.

Meanwhile, Marshal Soubise was ignominionsly rented by Frederic the Great at Rosbach, and then the allies, elated with their success.

repudiated the Convention. Richelieu was so ashamed of his carelessness that he asked for and obtained his recall. At this juncture Clermont applied to the king for the command of the army and it is impossible to decide which was the more astounding, the audacity of (Jlermont in making, or the criminal levity of the king in acceding

820

THE NINETEENTH GEN]’ UR Y.

May

to, the request. The vainglorious conceit of Clermont can only be ascribed to the demoralising eHect of his life, which blinded him to his incompetence as a general, and made him measure the capacity of his adversaries by that of his own set. He anticipated an easy progress from victory to victory, and looked forward to loot and plunder to retrieve his fortune.

Financially embarrassed as he was, he set out with a train of thirty—five post—horses, but on arriving at the seat of war he found the French army in a condition almost as hopeless as Falstaff’s

ragged regiment. He wrote to the kingz—‘I find your Majesty’s army divided into three classes. The first is above ground, and consists of stragglers and thieves, all of whom are tattered from head to foot; the second is underground; and the third in hospital.’

He

then cynically inquires how he is to deal with the first. of these classes, or whether he should wait until he joined the other two.

As a matter of course Clermont was surprised by the enemy, and his best regiment cut to pieces. To make matters worse, he fell ill and found himself in the third category he had deseribed to the king.

For eighteen days no orders were given, no measures were taken, and nothing was done to ensure the safety of his troops. \Vhen he recovered from a sort of lethargic stupor, the only idea he could

conceive was to destroy his artillery and throw his ammunition into the water.

His army of 157,000 men met with a series of disasters,

the result of his gross incapacity and negligence, and had dwindled down to 80,000, when at Creveld it came on the forces of Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, which were but half that. number. When the battle began, Clermont was at dinner, eating somewhat sulkily on“

pewter, as his silver plate, for fear of accident, had been sent back to Berny. Orderlies came hurrying into his tent to ask for instructions ; but the commander-in-chief would not be disturbed at his meal. The

result need hardly be told. The rout of Creveld ranks second only to that of Rosbach; and yet when Clermont returned to Versailles his sovereign graciously forbore from alluding to his mishap, merely inquired after his health, spoke at some length about the town of Cologne, and the election of the new l’ope. But the public were less lenient, and scoffed at Clermont, and he was derided unmerci-

fully in verse and song.

Henceforth he retired into private life, and only once again intervened in public affairs. The various parliaments of France had coalesced in opposition to the king, who had bidden them to sanction certain taxes which he desired to levy. All the princes of the blood, including Clermont, and with the single exception of the Comte de la Marche, drew up and signed a protest in support of the Parliaments; but the king’s will was law. The members of the Parliaments were driven into exile or fined, and a new and more

1890

THE 00M TE DE OLERMONT.

821

obliging judicial body was called into existence, with Chancellor Maupeou at its head, to sanction the wanton expenditure of the king. Clermont’s share in this protest was the last manifestation of his better nature, the last flicker before the candle went out.

A few

weeks after this event, in 1771, he died, preceding the king to the grave by three years.

Unlike Louis the Fifteenth, who up to the last continued to dishonour his name and his crown, Clermont spent the concluding years of his life hiding his shame and remorse under the now silent roof of Benny. Ruined,broken in health,disheartened by the failure of his most cherished hopes, disgusted with himself and the world, he sought and found in complete solitude, and in a bigoted attention to religious Observances, if not a solace, yet a forgetfulness of his past. To set himself right with his conscience he went through a matrimonial ceremony with Mlle. Le Duc, or rather the Marquise de Tourvoie, as she chose to be called, from a small property Clermont had given her adjoining his own demesne.

To single out Clermont as an abnormal specimen of the caste to which he belonged would be unfair. A polished man of the world, but a libertine; a gallant soldier, but an incompetent general; a smart writer, but a sorry Academician ; he was no worse if no better than others of his class, and fell a victim to the force of circ Imstances. It would be equally unfair to fasten the corruption of the governing classes on the country at large. The very exclusiveness of the aristocracy, the thraldom in which it held the Crown and the

government, its jealous guardianship of its privileges and immu— nities, its greedy monopolisation of every resource and benetice and

of every important diplomatic and military post, its blind ignorance of the drift of public opinion, were as many causes of its decay as they were influences in promoting the energy and power of the Tiers-Etat, and in rendering imperative a drastic reform of the whole system of administration. To cleanse such an Augean stable, to save the tottering fabric of the French monarchy on the death of Louis the Fifteenth and reconstruct it in harmony with modern ideas of popular right, even an administrative Hercules might have been in— competent, how much more so a princeling reared under the eyes of a Du Barry, in an atmosphere vitiated by a century of prejudice, folly,

and corruption. When the collision occurred between the governors and the governed the weaker vessel necessarily foundered, though it would have been better for the fair fame of France had it not gone down in a storm of violence and in a sea of blood. The revolutionary cyclone swept away most of the memorials of those now ancient times. Of the Abbaye de St.-Germain-des—Prés nothing is left but the church, shorn of its eharterhouse and chapels. The broad and busy Boulevard St. Germain, with its many tributaries, passes over

the site of the monastery and its extensive pleasure grounds. Close VOL. XXVH.—N0. 159.

3 Cr

820

THE NINETEENTH GEN]’ UR Y.

May

to, the request. The vainglorious conceit of Clermont can only be ascribed to the demoralising eHect of his life, which blinded him to his incompetence as a general, and made him measure the capacity of his adversaries by that of his own set. He anticipated an easy progress from victory to victory, and looked forward to loot and plunder to retrieve his fortune.

Financially embarrassed as he was, he set out with a train of thirty—five post—horses, but on arriving at the seat of war he found the French army in a condition almost as hopeless as Falstaff’s

ragged regiment. He wrote to the kingz—‘I find your Majesty’s army divided into three classes. The first is above ground, and consists of stragglers and thieves, all of whom are tattered from head to foot; the second is underground; and the third in hospital.’

He

then cynically inquires how he is to deal with the first. of these classes, or whether he should wait until he joined the other two.

As a matter of course Clermont was surprised by the enemy, and his best regiment cut to pieces. To make matters worse, he fell ill and found himself in the third category he had deseribed to the king.

For eighteen days no orders were given, no measures were taken, and nothing was done to ensure the safety of his troops. \Vhen he recovered from a sort of lethargic stupor, the only idea he could

conceive was to destroy his artillery and throw his ammunition into the water.

His army of 157,000 men met with a series of disasters,

the result of his gross incapacity and negligence, and had dwindled down to 80,000, when at Creveld it came on the forces of Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, which were but half that. number. When the battle began, Clermont was at dinner, eating somewhat sulkily on“

pewter, as his silver plate, for fear of accident, had been sent back to Berny. Orderlies came hurrying into his tent to ask for instructions ; but the commander-in-chief would not be disturbed at his meal. The

result need hardly be told. The rout of Creveld ranks second only to that of Rosbach; and yet when Clermont returned to Versailles his sovereign graciously forbore from alluding to his mishap, merely inquired after his health, spoke at some length about the town of Cologne, and the election of the new l’ope. But the public were less lenient, and scoffed at Clermont, and he was derided unmerci-

fully in verse and song.

Henceforth he retired into private life, and only once again intervened in public affairs. The various parliaments of France had coalesced in opposition to the king, who had bidden them to sanction certain taxes which he desired to levy. All the princes of the blood, including Clermont, and with the single exception of the Comte de la Marche, drew up and signed a protest in support of the Parliaments; but the king’s will was law. The members of the Parliaments were driven into exile or fined, and a new and more

1890

THE 00M TE DE OLERMONT.

821

obliging judicial body was called into existence, with Chancellor Maupeou at its head, to sanction the wanton expenditure of the king. Clermont’s share in this protest was the last manifestation of his better nature, the last flicker before the candle went out.

A few

weeks after this event, in 1771, he died, preceding the king to the grave by three years.

Unlike Louis the Fifteenth, who up to the last continued to dishonour his name and his crown, Clermont spent the concluding years of his life hiding his shame and remorse under the now silent roof of Benny. Ruined,broken in health,disheartened by the failure of his most cherished hopes, disgusted with himself and the world, he sought and found in complete solitude, and in a bigoted attention to religious Observances, if not a solace, yet a forgetfulness of his past. To set himself right with his conscience he went through a matrimonial ceremony with Mlle. Le Duc, or rather the Marquise de Tourvoie, as she chose to be called, from a small property Clermont had given her adjoining his own demesne.

To single out Clermont as an abnormal specimen of the caste to which he belonged would be unfair. A polished man of the world, but a libertine; a gallant soldier, but an incompetent general; a smart writer, but a sorry Academician ; he was no worse if no better than others of his class, and fell a victim to the force of circ Imstances. It would be equally unfair to fasten the corruption of the governing classes on the country at large. The very exclusiveness of the aristocracy, the thraldom in which it held the Crown and the

government, its jealous guardianship of its privileges and immu— nities, its greedy monopolisation of every resource and benetice and

of every important diplomatic and military post, its blind ignorance of the drift of public opinion, were as many causes of its decay as they were influences in promoting the energy and power of the Tiers-Etat, and in rendering imperative a drastic reform of the whole system of administration. To cleanse such an Augean stable, to save the tottering fabric of the French monarchy on the death of Louis the Fifteenth and reconstruct it in harmony with modern ideas of popular right, even an administrative Hercules might have been in— competent, how much more so a princeling reared under the eyes of a Du Barry, in an atmosphere vitiated by a century of prejudice, folly,

and corruption. When the collision occurred between the governors and the governed the weaker vessel necessarily foundered, though it would have been better for the fair fame of France had it not gone down in a storm of violence and in a sea of blood. The revolutionary cyclone swept away most of the memorials of those now ancient times. Of the Abbaye de St.-Germain-des—Prés nothing is left but the church, shorn of its eharterhouse and chapels. The broad and busy Boulevard St. Germain, with its many tributaries, passes over

the site of the monastery and its extensive pleasure grounds. Close VOL. XXVH.—N0. 159.

3 Cr

822

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

May

1892

by the church stands the Abbey Palace, a massive structure of the end of the sixteenth century, but dilapidated and unkempt, and inclosed by clusters of dismal lodging—houses. It is now the abode o f clinical and elementary schools, brie-a-brac dealers and im— poverished gentlemen. The house in the Rue de la Roquette was transformed into a warehouse, and in 1847 was pulled down to make way for municipal improvements. Berny and Tourvoie were marked out for the Vandalism of 1793. A portion of a wing of the chateau still remains, but is disfigured by an uncouth plastering and a high chimney, and, to add insult to injury, it has been converted into a steam mill.

The shrubberies, gardens, and ornamental waters have

disappeared.

In the avenue some trees linger on, but cattle sheds

line the road. Berny grinds flour, and Tourvoie bakes bricks. Thus,

mutilated and degraded, the larger and the lesser chateau are made to share the present struggle for life, and expiate in compulsory labour the frivolities of their past.

FERDINAND RornscuiLD.

375

FRENCH EIGHTEE/VTH—CENTURY ART IN EJVGLAND Sonic analogy has been discovered by French and even by some English historians between the present position of England and that once occupied by Carthage. The blood of the Latin race flows in the veins of the Gaul, and it is therefore only a legitimate conceit on his part to pretend to the inheritance of the great qualities of the Roman ; while in likening the traditional rival of France to the Carthaginian, whom the Roman vainpiislml and annihilated, he pays a tribute to his own national pride. Though disclaiming even the shadowiest pretension to the title of historian, 1 would venture to contend that in many of its stages the history of (ireat Britain bears a closer resemblance to that of Home than to that of Carthage; and that the character of the Briton presents more aspects of likeness to that of the Roman than to that of the Carthaginian.

It

is not

necessary.

even

if

it

were possible,

for me to enter

into a minute controversy on the analogy between the Colonial Empire of Great Britain and the Colonial expansion of Carthage,

or the relative claims of the modern Briton or Frenchman to the racial supremacy of the Roman. The Briton may share with the (‘arthaginian his aptitude for trade and colonisation and prefer the certain gains of peace to the uncertain gains of war, but he also possesses the lloman‘s capacity for rule and organisation, together with his stubborn endurance, his discipline, and coolness under arms.

The history of Republican Rome and of England consistently disclose the same dominating desire for liberty. But to all matters relating to art, in the national production of art, in the adoption of foreign art, and in the collection of works of art, it seems to me that the

analogy between the Roman and the Briton is as marked as in all these respects also is that between the Frenchman and the Athenian.

A complete history of art would be almost a history of the civilised world, and in this very brief sketch it is only proposed to touch on some few historical points in order to show the resemblance between the Roman and the Briton in artistic matters, but especially to trace the origin and growth of the mania for French eighteenth—century art D I) 2

822

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

May

1892

by the church stands the Abbey Palace, a massive structure of the end of the sixteenth century, but dilapidated and unkempt, and inclosed by clusters of dismal lodging—houses. It is now the abode o f clinical and elementary schools, brie-a-brac dealers and im— poverished gentlemen. The house in the Rue de la Roquette was transformed into a warehouse, and in 1847 was pulled down to make way for municipal improvements. Berny and Tourvoie were marked out for the Vandalism of 1793. A portion of a wing of the chateau still remains, but is disfigured by an uncouth plastering and a high chimney, and, to add insult to injury, it has been converted into a steam mill.

The shrubberies, gardens, and ornamental waters have

disappeared.

In the avenue some trees linger on, but cattle sheds

line the road. Berny grinds flour, and Tourvoie bakes bricks. Thus,

mutilated and degraded, the larger and the lesser chateau are made to share the present struggle for life, and expiate in compulsory labour the frivolities of their past.

FERDINAND RornscuiLD.

375

FRENCH EIGHTEE/VTH—CENTURY ART IN EJVGLAND Sonic analogy has been discovered by French and even by some English historians between the present position of England and that once occupied by Carthage. The blood of the Latin race flows in the veins of the Gaul, and it is therefore only a legitimate conceit on his part to pretend to the inheritance of the great qualities of the Roman ; while in likening the traditional rival of France to the Carthaginian, whom the Roman vainpiislml and annihilated, he pays a tribute to his own national pride. Though disclaiming even the shadowiest pretension to the title of historian, 1 would venture to contend that in many of its stages the history of (ireat Britain bears a closer resemblance to that of Home than to that of Carthage; and that the character of the Briton presents more aspects of likeness to that of the Roman than to that of the Carthaginian.

It

is not

necessary.

even

if

it

were possible,

for me to enter

into a minute controversy on the analogy between the Colonial Empire of Great Britain and the Colonial expansion of Carthage,

or the relative claims of the modern Briton or Frenchman to the racial supremacy of the Roman. The Briton may share with the (‘arthaginian his aptitude for trade and colonisation and prefer the certain gains of peace to the uncertain gains of war, but he also possesses the lloman‘s capacity for rule and organisation, together with his stubborn endurance, his discipline, and coolness under arms.

The history of Republican Rome and of England consistently disclose the same dominating desire for liberty. But to all matters relating to art, in the national production of art, in the adoption of foreign art, and in the collection of works of art, it seems to me that the

analogy between the Roman and the Briton is as marked as in all these respects also is that between the Frenchman and the Athenian.

A complete history of art would be almost a history of the civilised world, and in this very brief sketch it is only proposed to touch on some few historical points in order to show the resemblance between the Roman and the Briton in artistic matters, but especially to trace the origin and growth of the mania for French eighteenth—century art D I) 2

37 6

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

in England—a mania which may be compared to that which prevailed in Rome for the arts of Greece. But however late the English taste for art may have been developed, it would be impossible to find a parallel, even in the rudest age of her history, for the case of the Roman Mummius, who sacked Corinth about a century and a half

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—OENTURY ART

descendants, patronised art for its own sake. aim

377

Their consuming

was that their faith should prevail, and to them art was

merely an accessory to the beautification of their worship. Terri— torial ambition was the paramount object of European sovereigns, and they probably had more regard to the intrinsic than the artistic

before the present era. and who, when loading his galleys with the

value of the contents of their plate closets ; while the clergy extended

pictures and statuary of (.‘orinth, warned his soldiers that if any of them were injured they would be compelled to replace them. The Roman was a born soldier, a statesman, a ruler of men—but not a born artist. \Vhile the policy of the Republic demandedthat every citizen should become a legionary, while its armies were employed

their patronage to art because it aided in glorifying their calling, in addition to exalting their religion.

in extending the possessions of Rome, and while the government of

those newly acquired possessions needed to bercmodelled for the greater benefit of the city on the Seven Hills, Roman orators were not want— ing to expound its law and uphold its liberties, nor Roman poets to chant its victories or humour its populace: but society was too austere, if not too uncouth, as it was certainly too much pre— occupied, to cultivate the graces of art. During the last century of the Republic, when the supremacy of Rome was fully established, a wealthy and refined society grew up, which found in art one of its chief resources. But the six centuries of warfare, and strenuous and absorbing political work, that had produced the greatest warriors and statesmen of the world, had left an indelible mark on the temper of the race ; and to satisfy its new longing, Roman society was com— pelled to import foreign artists and foreign art. Then knights, senators, and pro—consuls became collectors, committing follies, and even crimes, for the acquisition of ancient works of Greek art, which might be quoted as precedents for, if not in extenuation of. the

excesses of the collectors of the present day.

During the four or five centuries following the fall of the Roman Empire there. could be no question of art. Europe was in a state of chaos. The works of antiquity which the barbarians had spared were destroyed by the early (‘hristiau communities, who regarded with horror as idolatrous the plastic presentments of pagan deities. In the Middle Ages art gradually revived. The same zeal which had levelled to the ground the temples of the gods erected churches and monu— ments in honour of religion, and was bent to the work of fashioning, rudely and grotesquely at first, but soon with much skill and feeling,

tapestries and plate for religious uses.

()f the Empires that were

formed in antiquity, the Byzantine alone remained.

There art survived, and from thence it was imported into \Vestern Europe.

Byzantine churches arose in the West, adorned with mosaics which

—such as the church of San Marco in Venice, San Vitale at Ravenna,

and the Palatine Chapel at Palermo—have excited the admiration of all succeeding times.

But it may be doubted if the Crusaders, or their immediate

In the fourteenth century Gothic art was at its zenith, and the collector in the modern sense of the word first appeared on the scene

in France. By the Treaty of Bretigny in 1360, France had to cede the Poitou to England. The Poitou was the tief of King Jean lc Bon’s third son Jean, who received the Berry in exchange. The Valois branch of the House of Capet had recently succeeded to the throne, and most of the Valois had a taste for building, and a passion for art.

When. after the death of Jean le Bon, Charles le Sage was building

the Louvre, the Bastille, and the Pont Neuf, his brother Jean, Duke of Berry, was raising in his domains numerous churches of elaborate design, and castles which he filled with tapestries, plate, jewels, and

books.

He earned the name of the ‘ Magnificent,’ though not at the

hands of his subjects, whom he taxed and oppressed to such an extent

that he left his province in a state of absolute destitution and misery.

The ‘Magnificent ’ Duke, after sixty years of this paternal government, died a pauper, and his collections were dispersed. Some of his

books—the MSS. of Froissart’s Chronicles amongst them—have re— mained in France ; and a portion of his valuables were brought over to England—what can have been their fate? The great vassals of the French kings were conspicuous for their self—seeking ambition, their rapacity, and their cruelty, and in these respects none surpassed Duke Jean. He merits our special notice from the fact that his life illustrates the artistic leanings of the French race. It may seem to us well nigh inconceivable that a prince, whose father had been taken

into captivity in a foreign land, who himself had gone as a hostage on his father‘s conditional release, who in his early days had been

at l’oietiers and in his later days at Agincourt, who during the sixty lamentable years that intervened between these two disasters had

seen his country in the hands of its enemies, that this prince so circumstanced could have found it possible to sacrifice every personal and public duty for the pursuit of art. And it is equally inconceivable that in that wild and inhuman age, one so fatal to the French people, the mental repose was possible in which many intelligent and patriotic men could have been schooled and trained and could have found the

inclination to concentrate their minds on the peaceful accomplishments of art.

The fifteenth century saw a great change. Then the frontiers of the leading European States had become more or less clearly defined,

37 6

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

in England—a mania which may be compared to that which prevailed in Rome for the arts of Greece. But however late the English taste for art may have been developed, it would be impossible to find a parallel, even in the rudest age of her history, for the case of the Roman Mummius, who sacked Corinth about a century and a half

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—OENTURY ART

descendants, patronised art for its own sake. aim

377

Their consuming

was that their faith should prevail, and to them art was

merely an accessory to the beautification of their worship. Terri— torial ambition was the paramount object of European sovereigns, and they probably had more regard to the intrinsic than the artistic

before the present era. and who, when loading his galleys with the

value of the contents of their plate closets ; while the clergy extended

pictures and statuary of (.‘orinth, warned his soldiers that if any of them were injured they would be compelled to replace them. The Roman was a born soldier, a statesman, a ruler of men—but not a born artist. \Vhile the policy of the Republic demandedthat every citizen should become a legionary, while its armies were employed

their patronage to art because it aided in glorifying their calling, in addition to exalting their religion.

in extending the possessions of Rome, and while the government of

those newly acquired possessions needed to bercmodelled for the greater benefit of the city on the Seven Hills, Roman orators were not want— ing to expound its law and uphold its liberties, nor Roman poets to chant its victories or humour its populace: but society was too austere, if not too uncouth, as it was certainly too much pre— occupied, to cultivate the graces of art. During the last century of the Republic, when the supremacy of Rome was fully established, a wealthy and refined society grew up, which found in art one of its chief resources. But the six centuries of warfare, and strenuous and absorbing political work, that had produced the greatest warriors and statesmen of the world, had left an indelible mark on the temper of the race ; and to satisfy its new longing, Roman society was com— pelled to import foreign artists and foreign art. Then knights, senators, and pro—consuls became collectors, committing follies, and even crimes, for the acquisition of ancient works of Greek art, which might be quoted as precedents for, if not in extenuation of. the

excesses of the collectors of the present day.

During the four or five centuries following the fall of the Roman Empire there. could be no question of art. Europe was in a state of chaos. The works of antiquity which the barbarians had spared were destroyed by the early (‘hristiau communities, who regarded with horror as idolatrous the plastic presentments of pagan deities. In the Middle Ages art gradually revived. The same zeal which had levelled to the ground the temples of the gods erected churches and monu— ments in honour of religion, and was bent to the work of fashioning, rudely and grotesquely at first, but soon with much skill and feeling,

tapestries and plate for religious uses.

()f the Empires that were

formed in antiquity, the Byzantine alone remained.

There art survived, and from thence it was imported into \Vestern Europe.

Byzantine churches arose in the West, adorned with mosaics which

—such as the church of San Marco in Venice, San Vitale at Ravenna,

and the Palatine Chapel at Palermo—have excited the admiration of all succeeding times.

But it may be doubted if the Crusaders, or their immediate

In the fourteenth century Gothic art was at its zenith, and the collector in the modern sense of the word first appeared on the scene

in France. By the Treaty of Bretigny in 1360, France had to cede the Poitou to England. The Poitou was the tief of King Jean lc Bon’s third son Jean, who received the Berry in exchange. The Valois branch of the House of Capet had recently succeeded to the throne, and most of the Valois had a taste for building, and a passion for art.

When. after the death of Jean le Bon, Charles le Sage was building

the Louvre, the Bastille, and the Pont Neuf, his brother Jean, Duke of Berry, was raising in his domains numerous churches of elaborate design, and castles which he filled with tapestries, plate, jewels, and

books.

He earned the name of the ‘ Magnificent,’ though not at the

hands of his subjects, whom he taxed and oppressed to such an extent

that he left his province in a state of absolute destitution and misery.

The ‘Magnificent ’ Duke, after sixty years of this paternal government, died a pauper, and his collections were dispersed. Some of his

books—the MSS. of Froissart’s Chronicles amongst them—have re— mained in France ; and a portion of his valuables were brought over to England—what can have been their fate? The great vassals of the French kings were conspicuous for their self—seeking ambition, their rapacity, and their cruelty, and in these respects none surpassed Duke Jean. He merits our special notice from the fact that his life illustrates the artistic leanings of the French race. It may seem to us well nigh inconceivable that a prince, whose father had been taken

into captivity in a foreign land, who himself had gone as a hostage on his father‘s conditional release, who in his early days had been

at l’oietiers and in his later days at Agincourt, who during the sixty lamentable years that intervened between these two disasters had

seen his country in the hands of its enemies, that this prince so circumstanced could have found it possible to sacrifice every personal and public duty for the pursuit of art. And it is equally inconceivable that in that wild and inhuman age, one so fatal to the French people, the mental repose was possible in which many intelligent and patriotic men could have been schooled and trained and could have found the

inclination to concentrate their minds on the peaceful accomplishments of art.

The fifteenth century saw a great change. Then the frontiers of the leading European States had become more or less clearly defined,

37 8

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—C’ENTURY ART

379

however crept from its cradle ; it had learned to walk alone, and

in its

and the growth of autonomy among the different nationalities enabled each to assert its idiosyncrasies and its genius. Though constantly

tion. turn became the motive power of a more advanced civilisa

But

at war with each other, continental rulers had no longer to fioht for

was when, in the course of the sixteenth century, the Continent

their religion and their existence. Learning was not now confitiicd to monasteries, and universities promoted knowledge throughout Europe.

Trade and commerce expanded when the restrictions and risks hitherto attending them had been removed, and increased prosperity, together

found devastated by foreign and civil wars, princes and nobles and time their devote to more serious occupations, and had Italy, In art. of pursuit the means to less pleasurable objects than and which suffered most and suffered irretrievably, art declined first a quite ed appear art native most rapidly. In Germany, where

with a new sense of security, created new wants, amoncr them that desire for a more luxurious mode of life which is at oncoe the most

potent patron of art and the strongest incentive to art collectors.

The conditions of life were altered; the great no lonaer passed their time in camps or in fortified castles ; better houses Ivere built

society began to assume shape; domestic life commenced to be culti: vated, and the necessity arose for a large'number of new articles for domestic use or ornament. giving a wider scope for that artistic

talent, which had hitherto been expended in devotional purposes.

Italy, though torn by internal feuds and harassed by invasions. was the pioneer of modern civilisation. ()wing to her geocrraphical position, she was able. first of all European races, to extendbher con— nections abroad, and to assert her national genius. Her ancient traditions, and the discovery in her soil of the remnant of the treasures of the greatest civilisation of antiquity, assisted in reviving

the artistic tendencies of her people. Italian taste in literature and art, as well as Italian principles of trade and finance, radiated over

Europe. The noble and the wealthy classes of other European countries vied with each other in their efforts to implant Italian culture, in all its aspects, in their own dominions ; and in the pursuit of that object their patronage of Italian art and artists was generous

and untiring.

The artistic revival was in the bud in Central Europe

when the Italian Renaissance caused it to expand.

It crew with

great rapidity. The Valois and the Hapsburg were not to b: outdone by the Este and the Medici in the patronage of art. Native artists rose, as if by magic, at their command.

Perilous journeys were no

longer needed to cultivate indigenous talent by a study of Italian or classical models. The enthusiasm for art became universal. As in the Greece of Pericles, on the continent of Europe, during the Renais— sance, every man, unquestionably

every educated man, if not

actually an artist, took an interest in art, and every man of means became a collector of artistic objects. During the Dark Aces faith had been a great civilising influence.

It had taught hibgh purposes—chivalry and purity of life. The faith that had made a Hildebrand, a St. Louis, and a St. Francis had formed the man

of letters and inspired the artist.

In every form the fine arts were the direct offspring of faith. But when popes and princes became powerful and prosperous, they turned their thouorhts from spiritual to temporal ambitions, and faith decayed. Art Lhad

y

century later than in Italy, it retained its influence longest; possibl

them because the greater stolidity and endurance of its people enabled r Empero the Thus to withstand the political storms with more effect.

Rodolph the Second, though beset with troubles. remained an ardent seven— art patron and collector until his death in 1612 ; and in the s tankard te elabora ing teenth centnrythe Germans were still chisell was It . country and cups. But Germany was not a homogeneous autonomy. composed of a multitude of principalities all striving for by the and , It was divided by the ambitious schemes of its princes r.

Empero the religious dissensions that sprang up between them and was War, Germany. moreover, was scourged by the Thirty Years’

es

weakened by exposure to )Iahometan aggression, and its resourc

gravity were either wasted or unexplored. Later on its centre of ny Germa new became displaced from Austria to I’russia, when that old. the began to rise in the North which absorbed the strength of the The Emperor became a mere tigurehead, and the people, under from torpor dominion of a hundred and fifty princelings, sank into a invasions. onic Napole the of stress the by freed only were which they of Europe, Spain in the Middle Ages, in common with the rest , it had erected Gothic cathedrals; and when, in the sixteenth century and been welded into a homogeneous whole by the union of Ferdin

and Isabella, and had gained wealth and importance from its discovery of the New \Vorld and from the revenues of its Flemish and Italian the dominions, Spain shared in the artistic revival. But Philip ged Second crippled his country too seriously to permit of any prolon of existence of native or patronage of foreign art. The most capable after his subjects had carried their energies across the ocean. Soon

the expulsion of the Moor and the Jew, the power of Spain rapidly declined and its art sank, with Murillo, into the grave. \Vhenceforward the Spaniard evinced a far greater delight in seeing a hereticis— burnt at the stake, or a bull butchered in the ring, than in scrutin the by Thus vase. d jewelle a or statue a sing ing, praising, or purcha

middle of the seventeenth century art had decayed in Germany ; it had expired in Italy and Spain. The reverse occurred in France.

The history of France, from its earliest days to the Revolu

tion, is virtually a history of the lives of the French kings. The founder of the House of Capet was a Frenchman ; the strict observance of the Salic Law kept the throne in the hands of his male descend—

37 8

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—C’ENTURY ART

379

however crept from its cradle ; it had learned to walk alone, and

in its

and the growth of autonomy among the different nationalities enabled each to assert its idiosyncrasies and its genius. Though constantly

tion. turn became the motive power of a more advanced civilisa

But

at war with each other, continental rulers had no longer to fioht for

was when, in the course of the sixteenth century, the Continent

their religion and their existence. Learning was not now confitiicd to monasteries, and universities promoted knowledge throughout Europe.

Trade and commerce expanded when the restrictions and risks hitherto attending them had been removed, and increased prosperity, together

found devastated by foreign and civil wars, princes and nobles and time their devote to more serious occupations, and had Italy, In art. of pursuit the means to less pleasurable objects than and which suffered most and suffered irretrievably, art declined first a quite ed appear art native most rapidly. In Germany, where

with a new sense of security, created new wants, amoncr them that desire for a more luxurious mode of life which is at oncoe the most

potent patron of art and the strongest incentive to art collectors.

The conditions of life were altered; the great no lonaer passed their time in camps or in fortified castles ; better houses Ivere built

society began to assume shape; domestic life commenced to be culti: vated, and the necessity arose for a large'number of new articles for domestic use or ornament. giving a wider scope for that artistic

talent, which had hitherto been expended in devotional purposes.

Italy, though torn by internal feuds and harassed by invasions. was the pioneer of modern civilisation. ()wing to her geocrraphical position, she was able. first of all European races, to extendbher con— nections abroad, and to assert her national genius. Her ancient traditions, and the discovery in her soil of the remnant of the treasures of the greatest civilisation of antiquity, assisted in reviving

the artistic tendencies of her people. Italian taste in literature and art, as well as Italian principles of trade and finance, radiated over

Europe. The noble and the wealthy classes of other European countries vied with each other in their efforts to implant Italian culture, in all its aspects, in their own dominions ; and in the pursuit of that object their patronage of Italian art and artists was generous

and untiring.

The artistic revival was in the bud in Central Europe

when the Italian Renaissance caused it to expand.

It crew with

great rapidity. The Valois and the Hapsburg were not to b: outdone by the Este and the Medici in the patronage of art. Native artists rose, as if by magic, at their command.

Perilous journeys were no

longer needed to cultivate indigenous talent by a study of Italian or classical models. The enthusiasm for art became universal. As in the Greece of Pericles, on the continent of Europe, during the Renais— sance, every man, unquestionably

every educated man, if not

actually an artist, took an interest in art, and every man of means became a collector of artistic objects. During the Dark Aces faith had been a great civilising influence.

It had taught hibgh purposes—chivalry and purity of life. The faith that had made a Hildebrand, a St. Louis, and a St. Francis had formed the man

of letters and inspired the artist.

In every form the fine arts were the direct offspring of faith. But when popes and princes became powerful and prosperous, they turned their thouorhts from spiritual to temporal ambitions, and faith decayed. Art Lhad

y

century later than in Italy, it retained its influence longest; possibl

them because the greater stolidity and endurance of its people enabled r Empero the Thus to withstand the political storms with more effect.

Rodolph the Second, though beset with troubles. remained an ardent seven— art patron and collector until his death in 1612 ; and in the s tankard te elabora ing teenth centnrythe Germans were still chisell was It . country and cups. But Germany was not a homogeneous autonomy. composed of a multitude of principalities all striving for by the and , It was divided by the ambitious schemes of its princes r.

Empero the religious dissensions that sprang up between them and was War, Germany. moreover, was scourged by the Thirty Years’

es

weakened by exposure to )Iahometan aggression, and its resourc

gravity were either wasted or unexplored. Later on its centre of ny Germa new became displaced from Austria to I’russia, when that old. the began to rise in the North which absorbed the strength of the The Emperor became a mere tigurehead, and the people, under from torpor dominion of a hundred and fifty princelings, sank into a invasions. onic Napole the of stress the by freed only were which they of Europe, Spain in the Middle Ages, in common with the rest , it had erected Gothic cathedrals; and when, in the sixteenth century and been welded into a homogeneous whole by the union of Ferdin

and Isabella, and had gained wealth and importance from its discovery of the New \Vorld and from the revenues of its Flemish and Italian the dominions, Spain shared in the artistic revival. But Philip ged Second crippled his country too seriously to permit of any prolon of existence of native or patronage of foreign art. The most capable after his subjects had carried their energies across the ocean. Soon

the expulsion of the Moor and the Jew, the power of Spain rapidly declined and its art sank, with Murillo, into the grave. \Vhenceforward the Spaniard evinced a far greater delight in seeing a hereticis— burnt at the stake, or a bull butchered in the ring, than in scrutin the by Thus vase. d jewelle a or statue a sing ing, praising, or purcha

middle of the seventeenth century art had decayed in Germany ; it had expired in Italy and Spain. The reverse occurred in France.

The history of France, from its earliest days to the Revolu

tion, is virtually a history of the lives of the French kings. The founder of the House of Capet was a Frenchman ; the strict observance of the Salic Law kept the throne in the hands of his male descend—

380

THE NINETEENTH CENT UB Y

March

ants; and only during the brief period of Henri Quatre's Protest— antism. when a Catholic pretender appeared on the scene. was France a prey to dynastic struggles such as convulsed England during the Middle Ages. The application of the Salic Law enormously strengthened the personal influence of the king. as no dispute could arise as to his supreme position or to disturb the national allegiance. The King was “La l“rance,‘ as Madame Dubarry. with unwitting wisdom. called Louis the Fifteenth. By his marriage with Anne of Brittany. Louis the Twelfth had absorbed Brittany; by his marriage with Marie Leczinsca. Louis the Fifteenth absorbed Lorraine; and the whole process of national independence. development. and assimilation was effected in France by the direct action of the king. \Vhatever may have been the shortcomings of the French kings. even in the distant past. they knew how to maintain an identity of interest between themselves and their subjects. 'l'urbulcnt and unruly as the French have been. they never directed their turbulence or unruliness against the throne until the end of the eighteenth century. when its prestige had been irreniediably ruined, and when a new order of things

rendered the continuance of feudalism impossible. Even during the hundred years war with ingland. the religious wars of the sixteenth century. and the civil skirmishes of the seventeenth. that feudal system which in England had received its first blow at Runnymede was exploited by the kings of France. so as to make the whole nation regard them as the only umpires between the nobility and the lower orders. The nobility. on the one hand. needed the assistance of the king in upholding those ancient privileges which enabled them to keep the people in subjection. while. on the other. the people also needed the assistance of the king in resisting the oppression of the nobility. The natural resources of France. which made her people independent of foreign enterprise, were inexhaustible. their recupera—

tive powers unique, their love of pomp and glitter intense, and their gift of good taste perennial. The special attributes of every race are fostered by circumstances. The French, like the ancient Greeks,

have a natural aptitude for art, and like the Greek who disliked Aristides because he was tired of hearing him called the, ‘ Just,’ the Frenchman loves incessant change. By reason of that aptitude for

38]

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—UENTURY ART

obtained.

l'ntil the (lawn of the Revolution, the wealth which the

king and his courtiers so easily acquired was lavished on pageantry and art.

Architects, sculptors, painters, goldsmiths, and even upholsterers were trained to the highest pitch of excellence and refinement to minister to their boundless extravagance an ex— travagance which always found artistic expression. And so it was that, the French never slackened in their production of native and their patronage of ancient foreign art. To sum up, whilst on the Continent art on the whole had decayed. it flourished in France in

the eighteenth century more profusely than during any other epoch of her history.

Now, to turn to England. 0f the countries of modern Europe, England was the last to attain national emancipation and unity of race. The Celt, the Angle, the Dane, the Saxon, and the Norman had to be fused into one nation, that fusion was only perfectly accomplished, and the English people only attained their distinctive type of organisation, centuries after France had completed a similar process. Most of the laws and the institutions of England had been brought over by the Conqueror, and a long period elapsed before the new spirit harmonised with the old. The kings of England were French; the. clergy and nobility were French; and in the eyes of the earlier l’lantagenets, their kingdom of England was apparently

of less moment than their foreign possessions. It required the slow but inevitable process of natural evolution to mould the Anglo—Saxon nationality; and a King John to liberate the Anglo—Saxon crown and institutions from French domination, to pave the way for the transformation of the clergy and nobility into Englishmen, with English interests, English habits. customs, and language, instead of French ; and to unite. by a common bond of interest, the upper and middle classes in England. But the Angevin kings and the Norman.

barons, though they had become or because they had become English, were not the less proud and ambitious. and the people of England instinctively felt with them that if they were to prosper, their country must be reckoned as great amongst the great countries

of the earth.

So they fought for that greatness and they won it.

the wish to emulate the extravagance and magnificence of the king.

But the people of England also understood very clearly from the earliest times that liberty was the best safeguard of prosperity; so they fought for their liberty. and that, too, they won. But, when, after the death of the last Plantagenet king, England had won comparative greatness and comparative liberty, there. was no space at; home for the expansion of its energies, no available material for the efforts of its working men, no prospect of advancement, of

Both showered favours on hosts of retainers and artists, whom it

glory, or of wealth.

art and that love of change, the French have been able to produce

artistic work in ever—varying forms, and the production of that work was for centuries favoured by the maintenance of the feudal system.

The king and his vassals were desirous of enhancing the attractive» ness and splendour of their courts, and the nobility were actuated by

was their interest as well as their inclination to employ, and the

An autocrat might, have provided for them,

artists were impelled to their utmost efforts to win the favour of a

as the French kings did for their people, by foreign conquest, the resources in which their country was deficient. But wars necessitate

caste from which honour, fame, and advancement could alone be

fresh taxes, and the English people have never submitted very cheer—

380

THE NINETEENTH CENT UB Y

March

ants; and only during the brief period of Henri Quatre's Protest— antism. when a Catholic pretender appeared on the scene. was France a prey to dynastic struggles such as convulsed England during the Middle Ages. The application of the Salic Law enormously strengthened the personal influence of the king. as no dispute could arise as to his supreme position or to disturb the national allegiance. The King was “La l“rance,‘ as Madame Dubarry. with unwitting wisdom. called Louis the Fifteenth. By his marriage with Anne of Brittany. Louis the Twelfth had absorbed Brittany; by his marriage with Marie Leczinsca. Louis the Fifteenth absorbed Lorraine; and the whole process of national independence. development. and assimilation was effected in France by the direct action of the king. \Vhatever may have been the shortcomings of the French kings. even in the distant past. they knew how to maintain an identity of interest between themselves and their subjects. 'l'urbulcnt and unruly as the French have been. they never directed their turbulence or unruliness against the throne until the end of the eighteenth century. when its prestige had been irreniediably ruined, and when a new order of things

rendered the continuance of feudalism impossible. Even during the hundred years war with ingland. the religious wars of the sixteenth century. and the civil skirmishes of the seventeenth. that feudal system which in England had received its first blow at Runnymede was exploited by the kings of France. so as to make the whole nation regard them as the only umpires between the nobility and the lower orders. The nobility. on the one hand. needed the assistance of the king in upholding those ancient privileges which enabled them to keep the people in subjection. while. on the other. the people also needed the assistance of the king in resisting the oppression of the nobility. The natural resources of France. which made her people independent of foreign enterprise, were inexhaustible. their recupera—

tive powers unique, their love of pomp and glitter intense, and their gift of good taste perennial. The special attributes of every race are fostered by circumstances. The French, like the ancient Greeks,

have a natural aptitude for art, and like the Greek who disliked Aristides because he was tired of hearing him called the, ‘ Just,’ the Frenchman loves incessant change. By reason of that aptitude for

38]

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—UENTURY ART

obtained.

l'ntil the (lawn of the Revolution, the wealth which the

king and his courtiers so easily acquired was lavished on pageantry and art.

Architects, sculptors, painters, goldsmiths, and even upholsterers were trained to the highest pitch of excellence and refinement to minister to their boundless extravagance an ex— travagance which always found artistic expression. And so it was that, the French never slackened in their production of native and their patronage of ancient foreign art. To sum up, whilst on the Continent art on the whole had decayed. it flourished in France in

the eighteenth century more profusely than during any other epoch of her history.

Now, to turn to England. 0f the countries of modern Europe, England was the last to attain national emancipation and unity of race. The Celt, the Angle, the Dane, the Saxon, and the Norman had to be fused into one nation, that fusion was only perfectly accomplished, and the English people only attained their distinctive type of organisation, centuries after France had completed a similar process. Most of the laws and the institutions of England had been brought over by the Conqueror, and a long period elapsed before the new spirit harmonised with the old. The kings of England were French; the. clergy and nobility were French; and in the eyes of the earlier l’lantagenets, their kingdom of England was apparently

of less moment than their foreign possessions. It required the slow but inevitable process of natural evolution to mould the Anglo—Saxon nationality; and a King John to liberate the Anglo—Saxon crown and institutions from French domination, to pave the way for the transformation of the clergy and nobility into Englishmen, with English interests, English habits. customs, and language, instead of French ; and to unite. by a common bond of interest, the upper and middle classes in England. But the Angevin kings and the Norman.

barons, though they had become or because they had become English, were not the less proud and ambitious. and the people of England instinctively felt with them that if they were to prosper, their country must be reckoned as great amongst the great countries

of the earth.

So they fought for that greatness and they won it.

the wish to emulate the extravagance and magnificence of the king.

But the people of England also understood very clearly from the earliest times that liberty was the best safeguard of prosperity; so they fought for their liberty. and that, too, they won. But, when, after the death of the last Plantagenet king, England had won comparative greatness and comparative liberty, there. was no space at; home for the expansion of its energies, no available material for the efforts of its working men, no prospect of advancement, of

Both showered favours on hosts of retainers and artists, whom it

glory, or of wealth.

art and that love of change, the French have been able to produce

artistic work in ever—varying forms, and the production of that work was for centuries favoured by the maintenance of the feudal system.

The king and his vassals were desirous of enhancing the attractive» ness and splendour of their courts, and the nobility were actuated by

was their interest as well as their inclination to employ, and the

An autocrat might, have provided for them,

artists were impelled to their utmost efforts to win the favour of a

as the French kings did for their people, by foreign conquest, the resources in which their country was deficient. But wars necessitate

caste from which honour, fame, and advancement could alone be

fresh taxes, and the English people have never submitted very cheer—

382

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

fully to exceptional taxation unless it was warranted by exceptional circumstances. The Tudors were too politic to coerce their parliaments, and too closely in touch with the national sentiment to strain the loyalty of their subjects, so the English people were forced to rely on their own efforts at home and abroad. Thus at the end of the fifteenth century that spirit of private enterprise arose which has made England what it is.

In the Tudors, England possessed sovereigns who understood the character of the people. The Frobishers and the Drakes, and the many adventurous explorers and traders who laid the foundations of England’s colonies and commerce, were aided by an equally sturdy class, who at home worked for constitutional liberty, but for whose

efforts the achievements of the former might have been fruitless.

Had it not been for them England might have decayed like Spain, have become disintegrated like Germany, or been turned into a hotbed of revolution like France. The causes of that lack by England of the artistic genius possessed by continental countries may, in part at least, be the same as those which have brought about the great-

1892

383

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH-OENTURY ART

life and privations had engendered rough habits ; a long continuity of stern purpose had prevented the development of those gentler and more refined habits which are eminently favourable, if not absolutely essential, to the growth of a national art. Still, as a. rule, the demand creates the supply, and at the court of the Tudors there was a great demand for art and for artists; but foreigners

had to fill the place of English portrait—painters. Music, too, was one of the chief amusements with the upper classes of the day; but no English composer’s name has been handed down to us.

Ecclesiastical art, it is true, flourished in England during the Middle Ages, as vigorously as on the Continent; and the Gothic

cathedrals of England built during that epoch can hold their own with those of France. Germany, and Spain. But the Plantagenets and Henry the Seventh had to bring foreign artists and art to England, sculpture and mosaics from Italy, and enamels from France, for the

decoration of Westminster Abbey. When Henry the Eighth came to the throne, England had grown into an important kingdom. The young and chivalrous monarch. surrounded by a chivalrous and partly

ness of the English nation. It has been said that English climatic conditions are to be held responsible for this want of artistic taste, and it has been contended that the Briton is debarred from sources of artistic inspiration which are the birthright of sunnier climes.

new and obsequious nobility, found a well—filled exchequer, a contented

The phrase may be fine, and the reason it conveys plausible, but is it correct? Unquestionably the English climate favours, if it

whatever may have been his faults, was aman of culture. Besides his contributions to political and theological literature, he wrote verses, and he sang and played on the instruments of the day with some proficiency. He may not have been as capable a judge of art as his fellow-monarch on the French throne; but he patronised artists,

does not necessitate, energetic bodily exercise, and the development

of muscle may not be favourable to the development of brain power.

Yet no continental country has excelled England in any branch of literature or in any direction of intellectual effort. The climate of

and—for the needs of the crown—a sufliciently prosperous realm.

He was fond of show, of fine jewels, clothes, armour, and plate—in fact, of every form of luxury then known. Henry the Eighth, too,

and, as can be seen from the catalogue which is still extant, the

Flanders is not sunnier than that of England, and yet Flanders

contents of his palaces must have been a wonder to behold. Cardinal

produced an original school of painters, unrivalled in quality and fertility, while the sunny clime of Portugal has never produced an artist of note. \Vhy, again, should every Athenian in sunny Greece have been an artist, while his neighbour the Spartan was insensible to art? Or why, in sunny Italy, should the Neapolitan and Sicilian

\Volsey brought together at York House, Esher, and Hampton Court

have been destitute of the artistic genius which animated their

northern fellow-countrymen? No; to other causes must the tardy growth of artistic taste in England, as in Rome, be ascribedepossibly to racial causes, the origin of which science may some day determine,

and to the conditions under which England was compelled to work out her destiny.

There is seldom room in one mind for the co-existence of two

an accumulation of tapestries. paintings, plate surpassing that of the king himself.

But this tapestry, sculpture, jewelry, furniture, and

these paintings were not fashioned by English hands.

They were

collected abroad, or produced in England by foreign artists.

There

was much wealth in England during the reign of Henry the Eighth, especially after the fall of \Volsey, when large fortunes were acquired with facility out of the spoils of the monasteries; but the bulk of the national wealth had been amassed by commerce and private enterprise and the laborious work of the middle classes, who were unwilling to squander their hard-earned fortunes in what appeared to them a wanton and frivolous manner. When compared to the

While the flower of the British

Continent the life and customs in England in the sixteenth century

race was engaged in a desperate struggle for existence at home and

were crude and coarse. The position of some persons demanded that they should build large houses; and whether cultured or otherwise, these magnates appreciated the solid value of fine plate. For that reason, the art of the architect and the goldsmith have always been success—

powerful emotions or impulses.

abroad, it was scarcely to be expected that they could turn their thoughts to the relatively useless embellishment of their homes.

As with the Roman, so with the Anglo-Saxon, centuries of rough

382

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

fully to exceptional taxation unless it was warranted by exceptional circumstances. The Tudors were too politic to coerce their parliaments, and too closely in touch with the national sentiment to strain the loyalty of their subjects, so the English people were forced to rely on their own efforts at home and abroad. Thus at the end of the fifteenth century that spirit of private enterprise arose which has made England what it is.

In the Tudors, England possessed sovereigns who understood the character of the people. The Frobishers and the Drakes, and the many adventurous explorers and traders who laid the foundations of England’s colonies and commerce, were aided by an equally sturdy class, who at home worked for constitutional liberty, but for whose

efforts the achievements of the former might have been fruitless.

Had it not been for them England might have decayed like Spain, have become disintegrated like Germany, or been turned into a hotbed of revolution like France. The causes of that lack by England of the artistic genius possessed by continental countries may, in part at least, be the same as those which have brought about the great-

1892

383

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH-OENTURY ART

life and privations had engendered rough habits ; a long continuity of stern purpose had prevented the development of those gentler and more refined habits which are eminently favourable, if not absolutely essential, to the growth of a national art. Still, as a. rule, the demand creates the supply, and at the court of the Tudors there was a great demand for art and for artists; but foreigners

had to fill the place of English portrait—painters. Music, too, was one of the chief amusements with the upper classes of the day; but no English composer’s name has been handed down to us.

Ecclesiastical art, it is true, flourished in England during the Middle Ages, as vigorously as on the Continent; and the Gothic

cathedrals of England built during that epoch can hold their own with those of France. Germany, and Spain. But the Plantagenets and Henry the Seventh had to bring foreign artists and art to England, sculpture and mosaics from Italy, and enamels from France, for the

decoration of Westminster Abbey. When Henry the Eighth came to the throne, England had grown into an important kingdom. The young and chivalrous monarch. surrounded by a chivalrous and partly

ness of the English nation. It has been said that English climatic conditions are to be held responsible for this want of artistic taste, and it has been contended that the Briton is debarred from sources of artistic inspiration which are the birthright of sunnier climes.

new and obsequious nobility, found a well—filled exchequer, a contented

The phrase may be fine, and the reason it conveys plausible, but is it correct? Unquestionably the English climate favours, if it

whatever may have been his faults, was aman of culture. Besides his contributions to political and theological literature, he wrote verses, and he sang and played on the instruments of the day with some proficiency. He may not have been as capable a judge of art as his fellow-monarch on the French throne; but he patronised artists,

does not necessitate, energetic bodily exercise, and the development

of muscle may not be favourable to the development of brain power.

Yet no continental country has excelled England in any branch of literature or in any direction of intellectual effort. The climate of

and—for the needs of the crown—a sufliciently prosperous realm.

He was fond of show, of fine jewels, clothes, armour, and plate—in fact, of every form of luxury then known. Henry the Eighth, too,

and, as can be seen from the catalogue which is still extant, the

Flanders is not sunnier than that of England, and yet Flanders

contents of his palaces must have been a wonder to behold. Cardinal

produced an original school of painters, unrivalled in quality and fertility, while the sunny clime of Portugal has never produced an artist of note. \Vhy, again, should every Athenian in sunny Greece have been an artist, while his neighbour the Spartan was insensible to art? Or why, in sunny Italy, should the Neapolitan and Sicilian

\Volsey brought together at York House, Esher, and Hampton Court

have been destitute of the artistic genius which animated their

northern fellow-countrymen? No; to other causes must the tardy growth of artistic taste in England, as in Rome, be ascribedepossibly to racial causes, the origin of which science may some day determine,

and to the conditions under which England was compelled to work out her destiny.

There is seldom room in one mind for the co-existence of two

an accumulation of tapestries. paintings, plate surpassing that of the king himself.

But this tapestry, sculpture, jewelry, furniture, and

these paintings were not fashioned by English hands.

They were

collected abroad, or produced in England by foreign artists.

There

was much wealth in England during the reign of Henry the Eighth, especially after the fall of \Volsey, when large fortunes were acquired with facility out of the spoils of the monasteries; but the bulk of the national wealth had been amassed by commerce and private enterprise and the laborious work of the middle classes, who were unwilling to squander their hard-earned fortunes in what appeared to them a wanton and frivolous manner. When compared to the

While the flower of the British

Continent the life and customs in England in the sixteenth century

race was engaged in a desperate struggle for existence at home and

were crude and coarse. The position of some persons demanded that they should build large houses; and whether cultured or otherwise, these magnates appreciated the solid value of fine plate. For that reason, the art of the architect and the goldsmith have always been success—

powerful emotions or impulses.

abroad, it was scarcely to be expected that they could turn their thoughts to the relatively useless embellishment of their homes.

As with the Roman, so with the Anglo-Saxon, centuries of rough

384

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

fully cultivated in England; but. the demand for the many artistic luxuries of life was limited to the small circle of the court, who obtained a ready and copious supply from abroad. England was not

yet ripe for a national art, and the few artists there were could

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—O’ENTURY ART

385

influenced by these considerations, though English ones may have been more prudent. Other reasons also may be alleged for the then comparatively limited importation of French contemporary art. In the first place, it can hardly be gainsaid, that of all forms of art the

hardly compete with the legion of skilled workers on the Continent.

In this way the country gradually became accustomed to draw on the Continent for its supply of artists, and as a natural consequence English collectors were induced to accumulate works of continental art.

pictorial has always been the most prized in England. This has not been, and is not altogether the case on the Continent. At all times, it is true, the pre—eminence of pictorial art has been as much recognised

These conditions still subsisted in England during the reign of

before here, picture galleries were instituted for the benefit of the

on the Continent as in England. There, as here, private picture galleries have been formed for the last three hundred years ; and there, long people.

Here too, as well as there, old cabinets, armour, carving, and

Charles the First. Foreign artists were patronised, and the best productions of the best epochs of foreign art were imported by the king and his friends. But the puritanical spirit that manifested itself during his reign affected a great body of the public. The Puritan

nevertheless, that an Englishman always purchases a picture in preference to any other object of art; that the average Frenchman’s

looked with horror on all the frivolities of life. and detested the

partiality is evinced towards decorative art ; while the average German

meretricious fascinatiens of art. The collections of Charles the Firstwere sold, and some of the finest pictures in the Louvre bear witness

waxes sentimental over a curio of minute workmanship. English collections made in the eighteenth century, therefore, abounded in old pictures, and Italian pictures being the most valued, the grand tour was chiefly productive in the importation of Italian

to this day to his taste and muniticence.

Later on, though puri—

tanical feeling became modified, it was to a large extent perpetuated in )Iethodism and the many other dissenting sects, whose teachings still furnish, among a large portion of the people, an obstacle to the cultivation of the fine arts. The Restoration was too short—lived to effect much. whilethe stormy struggles that ensued under James the Second destroyed that social repose which is imperative to the growth

of art.

It was not until the reign of “Villiam the Third and that of

enamels have been appreciated and sought for. But the fact remains,

canvases.

But though the main portion of these collections con-

sisted of pictures, they also included cabinets, vases mounted in ormulu, china, and the many decorative objects made in France,

which could not be altogether ignored by the collector.

Amongst the limited class of travellers, collectors, and men of refinement of his day, Horace Walpole exercised a considerable

Queen Anne, when these struggles were decisively terminated, that English society became as polished as that of any continental country, and the national genius put forth its happiest efforts. A torrent of

influence. It may appear paradoxical to say so, but he both retarded and accelerated the mania for collecting French eighteenth-century

literary activity then burst forth. and the educated classes, like those

good taste, he set the fashion, and his taste was for Gothic 0r neoGothic architecture. to which French decoration could not be applied,

of the Rome of Augustus, began to excel in their love for and patronage of every grace of life. But as in the Rome of Augustus, native talent for art remained comparatively dormant.

During the Hanoverian kings, native art first asserted itself in England, and during the second part of the eighteenth century

that portrait school was founded which, though it may have been surpassed in technical excellence, is unrivalled in charm.

Still

the ordinary Briton, like the ordinary Roman, was little amenable to the fascinations of art, and the refined class could only find the material to gratify their taste on the Continent, so they commenced the formation of collections of continental art, many of which exist to this day. The smaller portion only of these, however, was French.

In all countries contemporary art, pictorial excepted, is less sought after than that of a past age. Familiarity does not always breed contempt, but it breeds indifference, and art not only needs the test and mellowness of time, but may suffer from the caprices of fashion.

French patrons in the eighteenth century were far too prodigal to be

art. He retarded it on the one hand. as being considered the arbiter of

and for minute articles of the sixteenth century, which he valued

chiefly for their historic interest. On the other hand, as other collectors followed his example, be promoted the collecting mania, and many of his imitators were influenced by the circumstances of the day

to become collectors of French eighteenth-century art. But that art only leapt to the front in England. and assumed the position it has since held, when it was prominently forced on the notice of the

artistic public by a personage of commanding influence. This occurred at the time of the French Revolution, which ended the old French regime, with its institutions, its customs, and its art, and opened out a new chapter in the history of France and that of the English

collector. In France, for half a century at least after the Revolu— tion, art remained well nigh in abeyance. In an heroic form it blazed forth in a graceless imitation of the antique during the First Empire, under the new roofs of the new men, and on the huge canvases of the

regicide David, and of his pupils Gerard and Gros.

The galleries of

384

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

fully cultivated in England; but. the demand for the many artistic luxuries of life was limited to the small circle of the court, who obtained a ready and copious supply from abroad. England was not

yet ripe for a national art, and the few artists there were could

1892

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH—O’ENTURY ART

385

influenced by these considerations, though English ones may have been more prudent. Other reasons also may be alleged for the then comparatively limited importation of French contemporary art. In the first place, it can hardly be gainsaid, that of all forms of art the

hardly compete with the legion of skilled workers on the Continent.

In this way the country gradually became accustomed to draw on the Continent for its supply of artists, and as a natural consequence English collectors were induced to accumulate works of continental art.

pictorial has always been the most prized in England. This has not been, and is not altogether the case on the Continent. At all times, it is true, the pre—eminence of pictorial art has been as much recognised

These conditions still subsisted in England during the reign of

before here, picture galleries were instituted for the benefit of the

on the Continent as in England. There, as here, private picture galleries have been formed for the last three hundred years ; and there, long people.

Here too, as well as there, old cabinets, armour, carving, and

Charles the First. Foreign artists were patronised, and the best productions of the best epochs of foreign art were imported by the king and his friends. But the puritanical spirit that manifested itself during his reign affected a great body of the public. The Puritan

nevertheless, that an Englishman always purchases a picture in preference to any other object of art; that the average Frenchman’s

looked with horror on all the frivolities of life. and detested the

partiality is evinced towards decorative art ; while the average German

meretricious fascinatiens of art. The collections of Charles the Firstwere sold, and some of the finest pictures in the Louvre bear witness

waxes sentimental over a curio of minute workmanship. English collections made in the eighteenth century, therefore, abounded in old pictures, and Italian pictures being the most valued, the grand tour was chiefly productive in the importation of Italian

to this day to his taste and muniticence.

Later on, though puri—

tanical feeling became modified, it was to a large extent perpetuated in )Iethodism and the many other dissenting sects, whose teachings still furnish, among a large portion of the people, an obstacle to the cultivation of the fine arts. The Restoration was too short—lived to effect much. whilethe stormy struggles that ensued under James the Second destroyed that social repose which is imperative to the growth

of art.

It was not until the reign of “Villiam the Third and that of

enamels have been appreciated and sought for. But the fact remains,

canvases.

But though the main portion of these collections con-

sisted of pictures, they also included cabinets, vases mounted in ormulu, china, and the many decorative objects made in France,

which could not be altogether ignored by the collector.

Amongst the limited class of travellers, collectors, and men of refinement of his day, Horace Walpole exercised a considerable

Queen Anne, when these struggles were decisively terminated, that English society became as polished as that of any continental country, and the national genius put forth its happiest efforts. A torrent of

influence. It may appear paradoxical to say so, but he both retarded and accelerated the mania for collecting French eighteenth-century

literary activity then burst forth. and the educated classes, like those

good taste, he set the fashion, and his taste was for Gothic 0r neoGothic architecture. to which French decoration could not be applied,

of the Rome of Augustus, began to excel in their love for and patronage of every grace of life. But as in the Rome of Augustus, native talent for art remained comparatively dormant.

During the Hanoverian kings, native art first asserted itself in England, and during the second part of the eighteenth century

that portrait school was founded which, though it may have been surpassed in technical excellence, is unrivalled in charm.

Still

the ordinary Briton, like the ordinary Roman, was little amenable to the fascinations of art, and the refined class could only find the material to gratify their taste on the Continent, so they commenced the formation of collections of continental art, many of which exist to this day. The smaller portion only of these, however, was French.

In all countries contemporary art, pictorial excepted, is less sought after than that of a past age. Familiarity does not always breed contempt, but it breeds indifference, and art not only needs the test and mellowness of time, but may suffer from the caprices of fashion.

French patrons in the eighteenth century were far too prodigal to be

art. He retarded it on the one hand. as being considered the arbiter of

and for minute articles of the sixteenth century, which he valued

chiefly for their historic interest. On the other hand, as other collectors followed his example, be promoted the collecting mania, and many of his imitators were influenced by the circumstances of the day

to become collectors of French eighteenth-century art. But that art only leapt to the front in England. and assumed the position it has since held, when it was prominently forced on the notice of the

artistic public by a personage of commanding influence. This occurred at the time of the French Revolution, which ended the old French regime, with its institutions, its customs, and its art, and opened out a new chapter in the history of France and that of the English

collector. In France, for half a century at least after the Revolu— tion, art remained well nigh in abeyance. In an heroic form it blazed forth in a graceless imitation of the antique during the First Empire, under the new roofs of the new men, and on the huge canvases of the

regicide David, and of his pupils Gerard and Gros.

The galleries of

386

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

Europe were temporarily emptied into the Louvre ; Murillos crossed the Pyrenees stuffed in the guns of Marshal Soult. ; lardinal Fesch bought old pictures, Junot bought rare books, and Napoleon, who could think of all things supernaturally grand and infinitesimally small, allowed a pension to the octogenarian tircuze. But the art of

the eighteenth century was dead ; it had perished on the guillotine-

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH-OENTURY ART

1892

387

French art might only have been temporary had not the Prince Regent come forward at this crisis, and settled its destiny in this

country. He was endowed with the most, exquisite taste, and availed himself of the unique opportunities of the time with a profusion that, however. was always tempered by good judgment. He never refused a line cabinet or a first—rate piece of china, but if it

During the restoration France was too intent on healing her wounds, and too pre—occupied with the grave questions of the day, to be able to tiu'n her attention to art. The traditions of former days were too deeply shaken, the minds of influential persons were concentrated too profoundly on the moulding and consolidation of the new order of things to admit, even amongst the competent and privileged few, the revival of a style and a taste that were identitied with the past. \Vhen Louis Philippe stepped to the throne over the. barricades of the July Revolution of 1830, the country had recovered her political balance, and her normal temper. In literature it was an age of almost classical perfection; while in art, a plciad of painters evoked the admiration of their contemporaries. The best of their work is to be seen in the Luxembourg. but it is an open question whether it is nowadays much appreciated. Society had been reconstructed out of the old elements and the new, and this reconstructed society con— tained many collectors of ancient works of art.

The reign of Louis Philippe. however, on the whole, was the exception to the rule in the history of the artistic genius of France. Having been brought up at Versailles, his first care was to restore the palace of his ancestors ; but the restoration, though undertaken with the best intentions, was possibly more disastrous than beneficial. Louis Philippe had been an exile and a wanderer for twenty—five years, and he probably lost in foreign lands whatever taste he may have inl’rcrited.

In England, social conditions had remained virtually undisturbed during the French Revolution and the great war. The fall of the

was not absolutely above criticism, it was rejected, or bestowed on

French monarchy brought about a general and long-continued dis-

picture, or a cabinet, a piece. of Sevres, or any decorative work of a

persion of its valuables. Most of the great houses in and near Paris were sacked; and their furniture was either offered in the auction mart, or hawked about on the t'rottoio's, where it was picked up for a mere song by English travellers and sensation—hunters.

Large

similar kind was to be obtained, can hardly be imagined. Rivalry Lord llertford would not brook; competition he sneered at. As a

quantities of these objects were also brought over to England for

quis’ and 'Mr. Richard ’—the names by which Lord Hertford and Sir Richard \Vallace were laconically spoken of in Paris—attended every art sale, remaining side by side for hours 011 uncomfortable seats, jostled by an idle and excited crowd, and closely scanning every

security, Where the interest in them increased with their possession; and now that an art that had so recently been a contemporary art had, without any warning or transition, become an art of the past, it could not fail to enter into the calculations of the collector. Never-

theless, a reaction might have set in; the occasional purchaser might not have developed into the collector who collects systema— tically and as a rule eagerly, not with an eye to practical useful— ness only, or to the gratification of a passing whim, but because of his appreciation and love for the object, and the acclimatisation of

a favourite. He made Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace storehouses of art treasures. and trained a school of collectors who profited

by his example.

Personal friends were his principal agents, but he also

availed himself of the services of lesser notabilities, and in his French cook he found a most intelligent purveyor, not for his table only, but for his galleries. Thus while in France the art ofthe eighteenth century was neglected. in England it steadily advanced in the estimation of a discriminating public, and there appeared, soon, that best of all indications of an increased demand, the forger.

The fashion which

had been set by George the Fourth was further developed by the impulse it received at the hands of a new art. patron. The education he had received, his very parentage, his position and relations, his

resources, the dual life he at first led between London and Paris, then his long residence in Paris. a taste as accurate as George the Fourth, a judgment as infallible, qualified Lord ltertford to become the most ideal and the most gigantic collector of modern times. llertford House speaks for itself; yet its galleries contain but a portion, though the greater and the choicer portion, of his collections.

Lord Hertford, though an insatiable glutton for art, limited his pur— chases to the two last centuries and the present one; the works of

the Renaissance period now at Hertford House having been purchased after his death by the late Sir Richard Wallace. The inde— fatigable perseverance and endurance, the ubiquitous presence of Lord Hertford, or of Sir Richard \Vallace, in every city of Europe where a

matter of course he was jealous and eccentric—traits which are commonly found in the collector. For many a long year, ‘ Le Mar-

article.

Lord Hertford almost took a perverse pleasure in outbidding his friends at these sales.

I had an opportunity of observing him at

Prince Beauveau’s sale in Paris in 1865, when he acquired every desirable item in the catalogue. Much interest was taken, I remember, in a small lacquer table, once the property of Marie

386

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

Europe were temporarily emptied into the Louvre ; Murillos crossed the Pyrenees stuffed in the guns of Marshal Soult. ; lardinal Fesch bought old pictures, Junot bought rare books, and Napoleon, who could think of all things supernaturally grand and infinitesimally small, allowed a pension to the octogenarian tircuze. But the art of

the eighteenth century was dead ; it had perished on the guillotine-

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH-OENTURY ART

1892

387

French art might only have been temporary had not the Prince Regent come forward at this crisis, and settled its destiny in this

country. He was endowed with the most, exquisite taste, and availed himself of the unique opportunities of the time with a profusion that, however. was always tempered by good judgment. He never refused a line cabinet or a first—rate piece of china, but if it

During the restoration France was too intent on healing her wounds, and too pre—occupied with the grave questions of the day, to be able to tiu'n her attention to art. The traditions of former days were too deeply shaken, the minds of influential persons were concentrated too profoundly on the moulding and consolidation of the new order of things to admit, even amongst the competent and privileged few, the revival of a style and a taste that were identitied with the past. \Vhen Louis Philippe stepped to the throne over the. barricades of the July Revolution of 1830, the country had recovered her political balance, and her normal temper. In literature it was an age of almost classical perfection; while in art, a plciad of painters evoked the admiration of their contemporaries. The best of their work is to be seen in the Luxembourg. but it is an open question whether it is nowadays much appreciated. Society had been reconstructed out of the old elements and the new, and this reconstructed society con— tained many collectors of ancient works of art.

The reign of Louis Philippe. however, on the whole, was the exception to the rule in the history of the artistic genius of France. Having been brought up at Versailles, his first care was to restore the palace of his ancestors ; but the restoration, though undertaken with the best intentions, was possibly more disastrous than beneficial. Louis Philippe had been an exile and a wanderer for twenty—five years, and he probably lost in foreign lands whatever taste he may have inl’rcrited.

In England, social conditions had remained virtually undisturbed during the French Revolution and the great war. The fall of the

was not absolutely above criticism, it was rejected, or bestowed on

French monarchy brought about a general and long-continued dis-

picture, or a cabinet, a piece. of Sevres, or any decorative work of a

persion of its valuables. Most of the great houses in and near Paris were sacked; and their furniture was either offered in the auction mart, or hawked about on the t'rottoio's, where it was picked up for a mere song by English travellers and sensation—hunters.

Large

similar kind was to be obtained, can hardly be imagined. Rivalry Lord llertford would not brook; competition he sneered at. As a

quantities of these objects were also brought over to England for

quis’ and 'Mr. Richard ’—the names by which Lord Hertford and Sir Richard \Vallace were laconically spoken of in Paris—attended every art sale, remaining side by side for hours 011 uncomfortable seats, jostled by an idle and excited crowd, and closely scanning every

security, Where the interest in them increased with their possession; and now that an art that had so recently been a contemporary art had, without any warning or transition, become an art of the past, it could not fail to enter into the calculations of the collector. Never-

theless, a reaction might have set in; the occasional purchaser might not have developed into the collector who collects systema— tically and as a rule eagerly, not with an eye to practical useful— ness only, or to the gratification of a passing whim, but because of his appreciation and love for the object, and the acclimatisation of

a favourite. He made Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace storehouses of art treasures. and trained a school of collectors who profited

by his example.

Personal friends were his principal agents, but he also

availed himself of the services of lesser notabilities, and in his French cook he found a most intelligent purveyor, not for his table only, but for his galleries. Thus while in France the art ofthe eighteenth century was neglected. in England it steadily advanced in the estimation of a discriminating public, and there appeared, soon, that best of all indications of an increased demand, the forger.

The fashion which

had been set by George the Fourth was further developed by the impulse it received at the hands of a new art. patron. The education he had received, his very parentage, his position and relations, his

resources, the dual life he at first led between London and Paris, then his long residence in Paris. a taste as accurate as George the Fourth, a judgment as infallible, qualified Lord ltertford to become the most ideal and the most gigantic collector of modern times. llertford House speaks for itself; yet its galleries contain but a portion, though the greater and the choicer portion, of his collections.

Lord Hertford, though an insatiable glutton for art, limited his pur— chases to the two last centuries and the present one; the works of

the Renaissance period now at Hertford House having been purchased after his death by the late Sir Richard Wallace. The inde— fatigable perseverance and endurance, the ubiquitous presence of Lord Hertford, or of Sir Richard \Vallace, in every city of Europe where a

matter of course he was jealous and eccentric—traits which are commonly found in the collector. For many a long year, ‘ Le Mar-

article.

Lord Hertford almost took a perverse pleasure in outbidding his friends at these sales.

I had an opportunity of observing him at

Prince Beauveau’s sale in Paris in 1865, when he acquired every desirable item in the catalogue. Much interest was taken, I remember, in a small lacquer table, once the property of Marie

388

Antoinette.

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

It was well known that the Empress Eugenie who

cherished a romantic sentiment for her memory, and had Gathered together many of her relics, had set her heart on obtaiiiin this table. Nevertheless, Lord Hertford, though on the friendliestgterins With the Empress, would not be baulked of his prey, and he secured it

aftera long struggle. Eventually, however, I believe, he either (rave or sold it to the Empress—which may be regretted. as in that ea: it must have perished, during the Commune, with the Tuileries

Prince

Beauveau’s sale was followed by that of Count Pourtales. A picture

by Greuze representing a young girl caressing a lamb, and called Innocence, had excited the admiration of a well—known Enrrlish art patron and collector recently deceased. He called on Lord HDertford with whom he was intimately acquainted. frankly told him he Wished to bid for the picture, and asked what sum he tlrorwlit it

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY ART

389

‘ You may call me at eight if there is a revolution,’ was the

injunction,

1892

February, 1848, ‘not otherwise‘.’ 0n the morning of the 24th of he muttered; up?’ is Lord Hertford was called at eight. ‘What reply. the was ‘is it a revolution '3 ’ ‘Yes, my lord, it is,’

unThe last twenty years of Lord Hertford's life were almost more, was ce influen his interruptedly spent in Paris; but though felt on the English directly exercised on the French, it was equally

sensational. market, where his purchases, if not as numerous, were as influence. that g The events of those twenty years contributed to makin but for one month permanent. Those two decades saw the rise. and . The policy of they would have seen the fall, of the second empire nd together by Napoleon the Third in knitting France. and Engla relations and better ties of political and commercial alliance produced eminent Every . a more frequent intercourse between the two nations

would fetch. “Four thousand pounds,’ answered Lord Jleitford Pictures by Greuze were then less scarce or less valued than the are now, and the prices of the works of the best masters were much lieliow

Tuileries. whence he and distinguished visitor was welcomed at the

what are given at present. There was but little competition for ' Inno-

nineteenth century, but which in its details was impreg

cence.’ and Lord Hertford‘s friend. who was egged on by him durin

those the taste and the revived spirit of the eigl‘iteenth. And during pdevelo dous twenty years the British Empire had undergone a stupen of spread the ment. which, while it facilitated amongst a large class of ities culture. awoke. a general desire for the more luxurious commod the of ation life. The press. too, conveyed daily and minute inform

the sale to increase his bids, considered hiinselflpossessor of the JlCtllI‘E at 26005., when. to his surprise and dismav. Lord Hertford1 inter;

vened, and raised the price at a single bid to 4,0001. He saw he had been trifled with and gave up a hopeless contest. It happened that bn another occasion Lord Hertford was accidentallv told of a \Vatteah—a masterpiece of that artist—the property of a geiitleman in Holland. Ail emissary was at once despatched to secure it, but he ransacked every town and collection in that country in vain. The picture could not be traced. Years afterwards it was discovered stored away in a garret in, Hertford House.

The fact was, that long before his ae'ent liad none

on his bootless errand. it had been brought to and bdiirrht by Tiord Hertford, who. after a careless glance, had forwarded itb to London and then forgotten all about it. ' 7 Lord Hertford‘s knowledge of pictures was so consummate that he

needed neither private advice nor the flat of public opinion to direct his chOice; but whether from vanity, the love of excitement or for the

sport of thwarting other collectors, he seemed to prefer buying at sales rather than by private contract.

He had been privately offered the

matchless collection of Dutch pictures owned by the Duchesse de Berri. He declined the pictures, but as money was wanted he advanced

a loan, taking them as security. Subsequently they were brought to the hammer, and Lord Hertford actually purchased some few ofr the pictures for a much higher aggregate sum than that which he had been asked for the entire collection.

A final anecdote, though it does not bear directly on the subject may not be altogether out of place. Lord Hertford kept late hours, and his valet. had strict orders never to disturb him in the morning:

have been carried away an impression of a splendour that would that was all of the crushing but for its refinement, a splendour

nated with

variations in art life of Paris. its fashions, taste. and art, of the rapid the style of the variations which chiefly consisted in a return to foreign collectors eighteenth century—of the expenditure made by French language on the art of that century. The study of the s who were in became common, and increased the number of person touch with French sentiment and with French art. museums, Meanwhile, owing to accident, their entombment in the eighteenth their agglomeration in safe hands. French works of art of became the greater century were becoming rare, and the rarer they

of a more grew the demand. And as they became scarce those appeared latter the onally ()ceasi still. scareer e classical period becam within come to ned happe they when and als —but at rare interv more, not, if much, as and up, ed snapp ly reach, they were as greedi

tors

prized than in those days when they were abundant and collec

s, and the few. But meteors generally sail in unattainable height likened to be e might ssanc Renai the of collector of genuine works sions, preten his lower must He moon. the child who cries for the it fair is But . tance impor minor of art and fain be content with an

to say that the French art of the eighteenth century is only of minor com— importance? It is not classical, it is not heroic, but does it not ? ness useful cal practi y with qualit ic bine, as no previous art did, artist d turne be it need cal; practi be art d But, it may be asked, shoul

to any useful account? Should we not, if we choose to indulge in EE VOL. XXXI—No. 181

388

Antoinette.

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

It was well known that the Empress Eugenie who

cherished a romantic sentiment for her memory, and had Gathered together many of her relics, had set her heart on obtaiiiin this table. Nevertheless, Lord Hertford, though on the friendliestgterins With the Empress, would not be baulked of his prey, and he secured it

aftera long struggle. Eventually, however, I believe, he either (rave or sold it to the Empress—which may be regretted. as in that ea: it must have perished, during the Commune, with the Tuileries

Prince

Beauveau’s sale was followed by that of Count Pourtales. A picture

by Greuze representing a young girl caressing a lamb, and called Innocence, had excited the admiration of a well—known Enrrlish art patron and collector recently deceased. He called on Lord HDertford with whom he was intimately acquainted. frankly told him he Wished to bid for the picture, and asked what sum he tlrorwlit it

FRENCH EIGHTEENTH- CENTURY ART

389

‘ You may call me at eight if there is a revolution,’ was the

injunction,

1892

February, 1848, ‘not otherwise‘.’ 0n the morning of the 24th of he muttered; up?’ is Lord Hertford was called at eight. ‘What reply. the was ‘is it a revolution '3 ’ ‘Yes, my lord, it is,’

unThe last twenty years of Lord Hertford's life were almost more, was ce influen his interruptedly spent in Paris; but though felt on the English directly exercised on the French, it was equally

sensational. market, where his purchases, if not as numerous, were as influence. that g The events of those twenty years contributed to makin but for one month permanent. Those two decades saw the rise. and . The policy of they would have seen the fall, of the second empire nd together by Napoleon the Third in knitting France. and Engla relations and better ties of political and commercial alliance produced eminent Every . a more frequent intercourse between the two nations

would fetch. “Four thousand pounds,’ answered Lord Jleitford Pictures by Greuze were then less scarce or less valued than the are now, and the prices of the works of the best masters were much lieliow

Tuileries. whence he and distinguished visitor was welcomed at the

what are given at present. There was but little competition for ' Inno-

nineteenth century, but which in its details was impreg

cence.’ and Lord Hertford‘s friend. who was egged on by him durin

those the taste and the revived spirit of the eigl‘iteenth. And during pdevelo dous twenty years the British Empire had undergone a stupen of spread the ment. which, while it facilitated amongst a large class of ities culture. awoke. a general desire for the more luxurious commod the of ation life. The press. too, conveyed daily and minute inform

the sale to increase his bids, considered hiinselflpossessor of the JlCtllI‘E at 26005., when. to his surprise and dismav. Lord Hertford1 inter;

vened, and raised the price at a single bid to 4,0001. He saw he had been trifled with and gave up a hopeless contest. It happened that bn another occasion Lord Hertford was accidentallv told of a \Vatteah—a masterpiece of that artist—the property of a geiitleman in Holland. Ail emissary was at once despatched to secure it, but he ransacked every town and collection in that country in vain. The picture could not be traced. Years afterwards it was discovered stored away in a garret in, Hertford House.

The fact was, that long before his ae'ent liad none

on his bootless errand. it had been brought to and bdiirrht by Tiord Hertford, who. after a careless glance, had forwarded itb to London and then forgotten all about it. ' 7 Lord Hertford‘s knowledge of pictures was so consummate that he

needed neither private advice nor the flat of public opinion to direct his chOice; but whether from vanity, the love of excitement or for the

sport of thwarting other collectors, he seemed to prefer buying at sales rather than by private contract.

He had been privately offered the

matchless collection of Dutch pictures owned by the Duchesse de Berri. He declined the pictures, but as money was wanted he advanced

a loan, taking them as security. Subsequently they were brought to the hammer, and Lord Hertford actually purchased some few ofr the pictures for a much higher aggregate sum than that which he had been asked for the entire collection.

A final anecdote, though it does not bear directly on the subject may not be altogether out of place. Lord Hertford kept late hours, and his valet. had strict orders never to disturb him in the morning:

have been carried away an impression of a splendour that would that was all of the crushing but for its refinement, a splendour

nated with

variations in art life of Paris. its fashions, taste. and art, of the rapid the style of the variations which chiefly consisted in a return to foreign collectors eighteenth century—of the expenditure made by French language on the art of that century. The study of the s who were in became common, and increased the number of person touch with French sentiment and with French art. museums, Meanwhile, owing to accident, their entombment in the eighteenth their agglomeration in safe hands. French works of art of became the greater century were becoming rare, and the rarer they

of a more grew the demand. And as they became scarce those appeared latter the onally ()ceasi still. scareer e classical period becam within come to ned happe they when and als —but at rare interv more, not, if much, as and up, ed snapp ly reach, they were as greedi

tors

prized than in those days when they were abundant and collec

s, and the few. But meteors generally sail in unattainable height likened to be e might ssanc Renai the of collector of genuine works sions, preten his lower must He moon. the child who cries for the it fair is But . tance impor minor of art and fain be content with an

to say that the French art of the eighteenth century is only of minor com— importance? It is not classical, it is not heroic, but does it not ? ness useful cal practi y with qualit ic bine, as no previous art did, artist d turne be it need cal; practi be art d But, it may be asked, shoul

to any useful account? Should we not, if we choose to indulge in EE VOL. XXXI—No. 181

o‘) 9 0

THE NINETEENTH 0ENT UR Y

March

artistic proclivities. subordinate usefulness and comfort, and

a

1893

whatever

our domestic requirements may be, to an ideal sense of and striving after art in its noblest form 1’ Yes; we should if we could. But we live in a practical age when scientific improvemen t has atfected the tenour and mode of our lives in their every detail.

A return to the

classical period for its decorations, furniture, tapestries, potteri

es, even

for its paintings, is only possible to the collector—4‘ 0 him who may still be able to discover them—who can set them apart for a room or a gallery; but, a general adoption of the art of the Renais sance, so that its feeling could pervade our everyday existence. would be out of keeping with all the essentials of modern life.

French eighteenth— century art became popular and sought for. becaus e of that adapta— bility which more ancient art lacks. Let the classical moralist inveigh to his heart's content against a sensuous age that produced

a sensuous art : the classical purist may call it 'rococo. affecte

d, etfemi-

nate, meretricious, trivial what you will—and lash himself into virtuous indignation at. the decayed taste that indulg es in a degenerate art. Fashions will fluctuate, but French eight eenth-century art seems destined to maintain its spell on society

, and tighten its grip

on the affections of the collector, so long as the present social. economic, and political conditions prevail, and until some unlookedfor catastrophe revolutionises the fate of the world, of art, and of art collectors.

71/73 Tfflf FLVAIVCIAL CAUSES OF FR ’iVC/f REVOLUTION I 1 I Q F t) l\ r\.\ \

{ll (1

men

Uf

9 l \ ., 1 1 1 lClt

1; Il (ll (l

(l

W Gll

1 I {L U Ce,

l

<L\

es oug luxuri " no moi:"secr i to lime the .1 ncicn Radium may be said if 37‘s} . tes, _ satelli . ' ,. e ‘ 0 ‘ itions tlE‘hCIll 'i d’ “1th ..eveal. A “e ' i satiatc i 'A beei 'i ilime the, 50 f ( 80119 its and \ ouit ( h O fashions of the .l‘renc aitintr i. cus J toms..and f-rsciiir a" 7. a ,c the , classe ' familiar with the levitv of the ruling ‘s , , saying and s phrase ith the. proverbial ,, Reign 1 of :‘ r‘ 12m ' (venvw me t. we d finally, , and, drama d r ‘ ‘ l u t.10 n'n‘V i the NW in ()5 i actors ent 19 10 fthe promin

)1 10d emocra 1nd an Ito mime“ e Madam , as '#tl 1at liberty ' iin the cause of liberty leaders me

0 ' h

i 'wment's‘ of the the achie ' learned i to appreciate

aid 1at the, foot of the guillotine, in whose name I

'v

I

h

FERDINAND RoriiscuiLD.

a\

‘: ‘1‘) ever 1C”tifbli , 5 at:inor ‘ elucidl ch and blxlll.- in much resear _ . . ded so \e e‘ipcu h '1', to g a it po and wand hr“ of the French Revolution, that the

so many r

,7-

l

.

L

Sr

n committed.

,

_

‘

, t

be“ \‘till there is the temptation to ignOrG, 1f 11013 to forget, the fac t cgrfititutiprti of that whilst the Revolution demolished the ancien . on. 0 . er po 7 1 ica . the en tire . transformati " l accomplished t cc, and in a. (183%:111: :(lilrfinistration and social organisation, as it “619,1 ise of the monar'chy antlthe politica orgies' 0‘ . i i K colla (s mos: 111t1‘1fCatB tllefifii’acy wire the result of almost innumerable and a . ore— . te past. ) Per aps, ‘ a iemo ‘ from ' dated ' ' :' ( anv of “lllCh 8.5.1: tion, cablfflairnnon; the causes which determined the hevolu financ:: til: was al, -Gener States the of ning summo :fecbecsitatedbthe .Ve a h ' ll' ion of the countr'y. We are indebted . to M. (mine , or gixi condit . e ensi . e,—the' first of a compr ' '~ hed \olum .‘ ' a recentl publis hsgal ailild al finanCi the on, taxati the of t accoun ubiln an evhauitive the d or ‘ as we V as y, ‘ ‘ centui ' ' enth D eiehte ' the in ' ' 9‘ iance l ' A' on of l ' strati f—i admini W ‘ an , Tuigot . of ry Minist , the ' of ' ' ation ' ' ’ e examin a minut < <' ‘ ly thioughtthe 1 M. Gomel conduc_ ts us skilful .,istry of Necker. l . 'll‘S 13\llgin that

(;

well-nigh impenetrable maze of the public financetlff the 33111.3 rhout he leacls us to infer that no. and almost thiour

mg . cou

‘ ,( _

111((r:31 preserved the Stat: from bankruptcy and the monaichyhfié)iiilde(s’:)111 r ,— ' l’. a . e . . volum the f 0 pages g ' closm ‘ the ' only in t' ‘* . Itl is lifdl ounds the View, that if Necker, whose first Ministry ended

[111 1.181,

pas liadp not succumbed to the jealousy of the Prime Minister Mauie

o‘) 9 0

THE NINETEENTH 0ENT UR Y

March

artistic proclivities. subordinate usefulness and comfort, and

a

1893

whatever

our domestic requirements may be, to an ideal sense of and striving after art in its noblest form 1’ Yes; we should if we could. But we live in a practical age when scientific improvemen t has atfected the tenour and mode of our lives in their every detail.

A return to the

classical period for its decorations, furniture, tapestries, potteri

es, even

for its paintings, is only possible to the collector—4‘ 0 him who may still be able to discover them—who can set them apart for a room or a gallery; but, a general adoption of the art of the Renais sance, so that its feeling could pervade our everyday existence. would be out of keeping with all the essentials of modern life.

French eighteenth— century art became popular and sought for. becaus e of that adapta— bility which more ancient art lacks. Let the classical moralist inveigh to his heart's content against a sensuous age that produced

a sensuous art : the classical purist may call it 'rococo. affecte

d, etfemi-

nate, meretricious, trivial what you will—and lash himself into virtuous indignation at. the decayed taste that indulg es in a degenerate art. Fashions will fluctuate, but French eight eenth-century art seems destined to maintain its spell on society

, and tighten its grip

on the affections of the collector, so long as the present social. economic, and political conditions prevail, and until some unlookedfor catastrophe revolutionises the fate of the world, of art, and of art collectors.

71/73 Tfflf FLVAIVCIAL CAUSES OF FR ’iVC/f REVOLUTION I 1 I Q F t) l\ r\.\ \

{ll (1

men

Uf

9 l \ ., 1 1 1 lClt

1; Il (ll (l

(l

W Gll

1 I {L U Ce,

l

<L\

es oug luxuri " no moi:"secr i to lime the .1 ncicn Radium may be said if 37‘s} . tes, _ satelli . ' ,. e ‘ 0 ‘ itions tlE‘hCIll 'i d’ “1th ..eveal. A “e ' i satiatc i 'A beei 'i ilime the, 50 f ( 80119 its and \ ouit ( h O fashions of the .l‘renc aitintr i. cus J toms..and f-rsciiir a" 7. a ,c the , classe ' familiar with the levitv of the ruling ‘s , , saying and s phrase ith the. proverbial ,, Reign 1 of :‘ r‘ 12m ' (venvw me t. we d finally, , and, drama d r ‘ ‘ l u t.10 n'n‘V i the NW in ()5 i actors ent 19 10 fthe promin

)1 10d emocra 1nd an Ito mime“ e Madam , as '#tl 1at liberty ' iin the cause of liberty leaders me

0 ' h

i 'wment's‘ of the the achie ' learned i to appreciate

aid 1at the, foot of the guillotine, in whose name I

'v

I

h

FERDINAND RoriiscuiLD.

a\

‘: ‘1‘) ever 1C”tifbli , 5 at:inor ‘ elucidl ch and blxlll.- in much resear _ . . ded so \e e‘ipcu h '1', to g a it po and wand hr“ of the French Revolution, that the

so many r

,7-

l

.

L

Sr

n committed.

,

_

‘

, t

be“ \‘till there is the temptation to ignOrG, 1f 11013 to forget, the fac t cgrfititutiprti of that whilst the Revolution demolished the ancien . on. 0 . er po 7 1 ica . the en tire . transformati " l accomplished t cc, and in a. (183%:111: :(lilrfinistration and social organisation, as it “619,1 ise of the monar'chy antlthe politica orgies' 0‘ . i i K colla (s mos: 111t1‘1fCatB tllefifii’acy wire the result of almost innumerable and a . ore— . te past. ) Per aps, ‘ a iemo ‘ from ' dated ' ' :' ( anv of “lllCh 8.5.1: tion, cablfflairnnon; the causes which determined the hevolu financ:: til: was al, -Gener States the of ning summo :fecbecsitatedbthe .Ve a h ' ll' ion of the countr'y. We are indebted . to M. (mine , or gixi condit . e ensi . e,—the' first of a compr ' '~ hed \olum .‘ ' a recentl publis hsgal ailild al finanCi the on, taxati the of t accoun ubiln an evhauitive the d or ‘ as we V as y, ‘ ‘ centui ' ' enth D eiehte ' the in ' ' 9‘ iance l ' A' on of l ' strati f—i admini W ‘ an , Tuigot . of ry Minist , the ' of ' ' ation ' ' ’ e examin a minut < <' ‘ ly thioughtthe 1 M. Gomel conduc_ ts us skilful .,istry of Necker. l . 'll‘S 13\llgin that

(;

well-nigh impenetrable maze of the public financetlff the 33111.3 rhout he leacls us to infer that no. and almost thiour

mg . cou

‘ ,( _

111((r:31 preserved the Stat: from bankruptcy and the monaichyhfié)iiilde(s’:)111 r ,— ' l’. a . e . . volum the f 0 pages g ' closm ‘ the ' only in t' ‘* . Itl is lifdl ounds the View, that if Necker, whose first Ministry ended

[111 1.181,

pas liadp not succumbed to the jealousy of the Prime Minister Mauie

—

’ .

37 6

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

the monarchy might have been saved ; and that had the King, even

1 893

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

37 7

as it may appear, the nation was content that this should be the case.

then, persevered with fiscal reforms, at any rate the history of the

The people were aware, it is true, that that administration was a very

Revolution would not have been written in letters of blood. It is not my purpose, however, to attempt to show what history might

tangled web, and the heavy taxes extorted from them could not fail to make them conscious that the treasury was not overflowing; but they allowed matters to abide under the belief that the King, in whom

have been.

That would be altogether beyond the scope of an article-

the reader must be left to decide whether the financial crisis could

France was incarnate, was, of all Frenchmen, the one to whom a sound financial administration was most important. The King, for his part, was only too anxious to foster this delusion. which left his subjects in

have been surmounted in view of the multitude of other causes of

a state of blissful ignorance, so that he could tax them at his discre-

which is merely intended to be a sketch of the financial condition

of France at the time of the accession of Louis the Sixteenth. and

acute discontent which were indissolubly connected with it.

During the whole of the eighteenth century, indeed, since the latter part of the seventeenth, France was in a state of imminent when not in a state of actual insolvency. It is needless to dwell here on the many causes which tended to keep the royal treasury in a condition of chronic distress. Incessant and, as a rule, useless or disastrous wars, the erection of costly palaces. the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, the prodigality of Louis the Fifteenth.

tion, and apply the proceeds according to his own personal inclina-

tions. From the secrecy thus maintained, the people fancied the King was as rich as he seemed from his profuse expenditure, they were less enraged than they otherwise might have been at his extrava— gance, and their displeasure vented itself chiefly on his ministers whenever taxation was increased. Murmurs, it is true, occasionally arose from them, cspecially in years when bread was exceptionally dear, and when they could not fail to note the contrast between

his selfish disregard of the most elementary principles of economy, constituted a perpetual drain on the resources of the country.

The glamour which the commanding personality of Louis the

the reckless profusion of the Court and of their absentee landlords, and their own abject want and misery. The sense of wrong rankled

Fourteenth shed on the throne; the success of his arms during

became wider and deeper, but. as tradition and custom still made them

the earlier part of his reign, which had raised France to the fore-

inclined to believe that their hard lot was part of the proper order of nature, they bore their yoke sullenly. but with more patience than might have been expected.

In the first place, it must be borne in mind that, during the

most place among European powers ; the literary and artistic efiiores— cence which consecrated the pomp of Versailles, and the person of the King himself—all these influences combined to enhance the

majesty of the Crown and of its wearer. And though the reign of Louis the Fourteenth ended in domestic gloom, saw the over— throw of the French forces, and brought about the impoverishment of the country, yet the memory of the King‘s achievements was

still far from being obliterated, and the greatness France had attained under autocratic rule served to blind the people to the evils of that rule itself. Whatever knowledge we may possess of French history, it is still somewhat difficult to apprcciate to the full the unrestricted absolutism of the French monarchy in all that related to the finances.

Of contemporary absolute monarchies Russia may be

taken as a fair example.

Yet, even in Russia there is some show of

deference to public opinion.

The Russian Finance Minister annuallv

in their hearts, the cleavage between them and the governing classes»

whole of the eighteenth century, even up to the day of the Revolu— tion, the system of public finance in France was so crude, its

fundamental rules so misunderstood and misapplied, that even human ingenuity of the highest class might well have been baffled in the attempt to reduce it to order. The rulers of France did not appear to understand that there is a limit to the extent of taxation even in the richest country, and that there must be a certain element of justice in its incidence, even under the most autocratic rulers, if

ultimate bankruptcy and ruin are to be avoided. It is true that her bad financial condition did not greatly injure the credit of France, and her pecuniary needs were supplied by loans from her own financiers.

But however freely one can borrow, the time must come

publishes a budget of the income and expenditure of the country”: though how far his estimates represent the genuine revenue resources

sooner or later when the debt has to be repaid, and the bridge by which difficulties are temporarily surmounted becomes so over—

of the country ; what limits are set to the private expenditure of the

weighted by its constantly increasing burdens that it must some day

Czar; in short, to what extent his figures—Which almost invariably'

collapse into the chaos beneath. The misgovernment of Louis the Fifteenth paved the way for this catastrophe in the case of the edifice of French credit.

show an even balance of income and expenditure—are trustworthy, may be difficult to decide. In France there was no such thing as a budget of any shape or kind, nor were there any limits set to the expenditure of the King. Profound secrecy was maintained as to the administration of the finances until the Ministry of Turgot, and, strange

\Vhether he is regarded as a ruler or as a man, it would be hard to

pass too severe a judgment on Louis the Fifteenth. If a slight extenuation of his shortcomings in either capacity can be found, it is

—

’ .

37 6

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

the monarchy might have been saved ; and that had the King, even

1 893

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

37 7

as it may appear, the nation was content that this should be the case.

then, persevered with fiscal reforms, at any rate the history of the

The people were aware, it is true, that that administration was a very

Revolution would not have been written in letters of blood. It is not my purpose, however, to attempt to show what history might

tangled web, and the heavy taxes extorted from them could not fail to make them conscious that the treasury was not overflowing; but they allowed matters to abide under the belief that the King, in whom

have been.

That would be altogether beyond the scope of an article-

the reader must be left to decide whether the financial crisis could

France was incarnate, was, of all Frenchmen, the one to whom a sound financial administration was most important. The King, for his part, was only too anxious to foster this delusion. which left his subjects in

have been surmounted in view of the multitude of other causes of

a state of blissful ignorance, so that he could tax them at his discre-

which is merely intended to be a sketch of the financial condition

of France at the time of the accession of Louis the Sixteenth. and

acute discontent which were indissolubly connected with it.

During the whole of the eighteenth century, indeed, since the latter part of the seventeenth, France was in a state of imminent when not in a state of actual insolvency. It is needless to dwell here on the many causes which tended to keep the royal treasury in a condition of chronic distress. Incessant and, as a rule, useless or disastrous wars, the erection of costly palaces. the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, the prodigality of Louis the Fifteenth.

tion, and apply the proceeds according to his own personal inclina-

tions. From the secrecy thus maintained, the people fancied the King was as rich as he seemed from his profuse expenditure, they were less enraged than they otherwise might have been at his extrava— gance, and their displeasure vented itself chiefly on his ministers whenever taxation was increased. Murmurs, it is true, occasionally arose from them, cspecially in years when bread was exceptionally dear, and when they could not fail to note the contrast between

his selfish disregard of the most elementary principles of economy, constituted a perpetual drain on the resources of the country.

The glamour which the commanding personality of Louis the

the reckless profusion of the Court and of their absentee landlords, and their own abject want and misery. The sense of wrong rankled

Fourteenth shed on the throne; the success of his arms during

became wider and deeper, but. as tradition and custom still made them

the earlier part of his reign, which had raised France to the fore-

inclined to believe that their hard lot was part of the proper order of nature, they bore their yoke sullenly. but with more patience than might have been expected.

In the first place, it must be borne in mind that, during the

most place among European powers ; the literary and artistic efiiores— cence which consecrated the pomp of Versailles, and the person of the King himself—all these influences combined to enhance the

majesty of the Crown and of its wearer. And though the reign of Louis the Fourteenth ended in domestic gloom, saw the over— throw of the French forces, and brought about the impoverishment of the country, yet the memory of the King‘s achievements was

still far from being obliterated, and the greatness France had attained under autocratic rule served to blind the people to the evils of that rule itself. Whatever knowledge we may possess of French history, it is still somewhat difficult to apprcciate to the full the unrestricted absolutism of the French monarchy in all that related to the finances.

Of contemporary absolute monarchies Russia may be

taken as a fair example.

Yet, even in Russia there is some show of

deference to public opinion.

The Russian Finance Minister annuallv

in their hearts, the cleavage between them and the governing classes»

whole of the eighteenth century, even up to the day of the Revolu— tion, the system of public finance in France was so crude, its

fundamental rules so misunderstood and misapplied, that even human ingenuity of the highest class might well have been baffled in the attempt to reduce it to order. The rulers of France did not appear to understand that there is a limit to the extent of taxation even in the richest country, and that there must be a certain element of justice in its incidence, even under the most autocratic rulers, if

ultimate bankruptcy and ruin are to be avoided. It is true that her bad financial condition did not greatly injure the credit of France, and her pecuniary needs were supplied by loans from her own financiers.

But however freely one can borrow, the time must come

publishes a budget of the income and expenditure of the country”: though how far his estimates represent the genuine revenue resources

sooner or later when the debt has to be repaid, and the bridge by which difficulties are temporarily surmounted becomes so over—

of the country ; what limits are set to the private expenditure of the

weighted by its constantly increasing burdens that it must some day

Czar; in short, to what extent his figures—Which almost invariably'

collapse into the chaos beneath. The misgovernment of Louis the Fifteenth paved the way for this catastrophe in the case of the edifice of French credit.

show an even balance of income and expenditure—are trustworthy, may be difficult to decide. In France there was no such thing as a budget of any shape or kind, nor were there any limits set to the expenditure of the King. Profound secrecy was maintained as to the administration of the finances until the Ministry of Turgot, and, strange

\Vhether he is regarded as a ruler or as a man, it would be hard to

pass too severe a judgment on Louis the Fifteenth. If a slight extenuation of his shortcomings in either capacity can be found, it is

I I

378

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

by a generous consideration of the peculiar conditions of his regal

position. He inherited the traditions of a monarchy in which his predecessor had been deified up to his last hour; circumstances conspired to imbue him not only with the conviction of his own infallibility, but that France, which he regarded as his personal

1 8 93

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

379

qualities, and possessed some natural shrewdness and wit, to all

intents and purposes he was a mere slave in the hands of his favourites. Another Louis the Fourteenth might have raised another Colbert or Louvois from the ranks of the bourgeoisie to reform the internal economy of France, and to lead its arms to victory, but

Louis the Fifteenth only thought of advancing mediocrities who

property, was primarily intended by Providence to minister to his whims and pleasures. During the first thirty years of his reign he

pandered to his vices.

was apparently animated by the desire to emulate the. example, of his

colossal debt, which not even the ministers of the last years of Louis

great predecessor, by seeking (listinction in the field and earning the

the Fourteenth had been able to diminish, and it would have

esteem of his subjects.

demanded a self—abnegation entirely foreign to the nature of Louis

Nor did he wholly fail in his attempt, as was

proved by the title of bien—rchm‘. which a grateful people prematurely bestowed upon him. Like many a Roman emperor. however, he soon fell a prey to the inherent vices of his character. which his unquestioned authority and surroundings afiporded him only too much scope for indulging. lle was supported by a corrupt clergy and by a nobility equally corrupt : as, though the French nobles of the eighteenth century were, as a class, brave, dignified and cultivated,

their ambition had been narrowed by the personal supremacy of

Louis the Fourteenth and had been debased by the evil days of the Regency. But still their territorial possessions and wealth. and the maintenance of their ancient privileges, enabled them to exercise a great influence over the King, from which he was too indolent and

selfish to attempt to liberate himself. They were mutually dependent on each other, and any separation of their interests would have been fatal to both. As a rule the leading ambition of the French nobles during the eighteenth century was to dip their hands as deep as possible into the public purse, to obtain the means of gratifying that, inordinate love of display and luxury which was the bane of their order.

Behind the nobles stood the tiers élut, who may be divided into two classes. The first consisted of the wealthy bnmgr/crdsic, always striving to gain entrance into a society to which they were admitted on sufferance, and by which they were treated with contemptuous familiarity. They fawned on those whom they looked upon as their social superiors, while they enviously resented that superiority. The

second class was composed of men ofletters, lawyers, and officials. This was the section of his subjects on whose education and enlightenment, on whose sympathy with the then budding new ideas, the King might

have relied for advisers who would have been best fitted to assist him in reorganising the administration of the country.

But they

hardly dreamed of sharing the honours of Versailles, and were either kept in subordinate positions or scornfully ignored. Under these circumstances their attitude to the Crown was naturally one of

hostility, and they had neither the opportunity nor the inclination to suggest a policy that might have saved the country.

Though Louis the Fifteenth was not devoid of statesmanlike

It must also be added that he inherited a

the Fifteenth to have curtailed the splendour of the Court, a splendour which was deemed the necessary accompaniment of the first throne in the civilised world. To ensure an effectual economy, Versailles

must have been denuded of all its glories, peace been maintained at any price. the colonies well governed, and the whole system of financial administration and local government entirely reconstructed.

In the following pages it is proposed to attempt a very brief sketch of the local administration and the financial system of France at that time: and though it must necessarily be incomplete, still it may to some extent illustrate the difficulties which even a stronger hing than Louis the Sixteenth would have found it an heroic task to overcome at the time he ascended the throne.

France, until the Revolution, was divided into provinces of two kinds, the page Ll‘étru‘, which had provincial States, and the pays d‘é/cclion, which were not so provided. About one-quarter only of the provinces had States, which were situated at the furthest boundaries of the kingdom, and these were better governed than the electoral

provinces, as they were supplied with comparatively free and efficient. municipalities. The States were local assemblies consisting of the representatives of the three orders, the clergy, the nobility, and the

tiers fitat, performing very similar functions to those of our own (‘ounty Councils, but possessing the additional right of levying taxes and applying their proceeds within the limits of their province.

Still, their power was limited. The members of the States were nominated by the Crown, and, as a rule, were induced either by bribery or intimidation to carry out the mandates of the ministers of the King.

The money they raised, instead of being applied to purposes of public utility, was often squandered in gifts to influential personages or in useless festivities, and whenever the King was in pecuniary difficulties ~occasions which were of but too frequent occurrence—the States were coaxed or coerced into voting a subsidy to him under the pompous and misleading appellation of a don gratuit. The electoral provinces, which had neither provincial assemblies nor municipalities, were autocratically governed in the King’s name by his officials. But both the pays ( ’état and the [Jays (Z’élection not only differed from each other in their powers and financial administration, but in their constitution.

I I

378

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

by a generous consideration of the peculiar conditions of his regal

position. He inherited the traditions of a monarchy in which his predecessor had been deified up to his last hour; circumstances conspired to imbue him not only with the conviction of his own infallibility, but that France, which he regarded as his personal

1 8 93

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

379

qualities, and possessed some natural shrewdness and wit, to all

intents and purposes he was a mere slave in the hands of his favourites. Another Louis the Fourteenth might have raised another Colbert or Louvois from the ranks of the bourgeoisie to reform the internal economy of France, and to lead its arms to victory, but

Louis the Fifteenth only thought of advancing mediocrities who

property, was primarily intended by Providence to minister to his whims and pleasures. During the first thirty years of his reign he

pandered to his vices.

was apparently animated by the desire to emulate the. example, of his

colossal debt, which not even the ministers of the last years of Louis

great predecessor, by seeking (listinction in the field and earning the

the Fourteenth had been able to diminish, and it would have

esteem of his subjects.

demanded a self—abnegation entirely foreign to the nature of Louis

Nor did he wholly fail in his attempt, as was

proved by the title of bien—rchm‘. which a grateful people prematurely bestowed upon him. Like many a Roman emperor. however, he soon fell a prey to the inherent vices of his character. which his unquestioned authority and surroundings afiporded him only too much scope for indulging. lle was supported by a corrupt clergy and by a nobility equally corrupt : as, though the French nobles of the eighteenth century were, as a class, brave, dignified and cultivated,

their ambition had been narrowed by the personal supremacy of

Louis the Fourteenth and had been debased by the evil days of the Regency. But still their territorial possessions and wealth. and the maintenance of their ancient privileges, enabled them to exercise a great influence over the King, from which he was too indolent and

selfish to attempt to liberate himself. They were mutually dependent on each other, and any separation of their interests would have been fatal to both. As a rule the leading ambition of the French nobles during the eighteenth century was to dip their hands as deep as possible into the public purse, to obtain the means of gratifying that, inordinate love of display and luxury which was the bane of their order.

Behind the nobles stood the tiers élut, who may be divided into two classes. The first consisted of the wealthy bnmgr/crdsic, always striving to gain entrance into a society to which they were admitted on sufferance, and by which they were treated with contemptuous familiarity. They fawned on those whom they looked upon as their social superiors, while they enviously resented that superiority. The

second class was composed of men ofletters, lawyers, and officials. This was the section of his subjects on whose education and enlightenment, on whose sympathy with the then budding new ideas, the King might

have relied for advisers who would have been best fitted to assist him in reorganising the administration of the country.

But they

hardly dreamed of sharing the honours of Versailles, and were either kept in subordinate positions or scornfully ignored. Under these circumstances their attitude to the Crown was naturally one of

hostility, and they had neither the opportunity nor the inclination to suggest a policy that might have saved the country.

Though Louis the Fifteenth was not devoid of statesmanlike

It must also be added that he inherited a

the Fifteenth to have curtailed the splendour of the Court, a splendour which was deemed the necessary accompaniment of the first throne in the civilised world. To ensure an effectual economy, Versailles

must have been denuded of all its glories, peace been maintained at any price. the colonies well governed, and the whole system of financial administration and local government entirely reconstructed.

In the following pages it is proposed to attempt a very brief sketch of the local administration and the financial system of France at that time: and though it must necessarily be incomplete, still it may to some extent illustrate the difficulties which even a stronger hing than Louis the Sixteenth would have found it an heroic task to overcome at the time he ascended the throne.

France, until the Revolution, was divided into provinces of two kinds, the page Ll‘étru‘, which had provincial States, and the pays d‘é/cclion, which were not so provided. About one-quarter only of the provinces had States, which were situated at the furthest boundaries of the kingdom, and these were better governed than the electoral

provinces, as they were supplied with comparatively free and efficient. municipalities. The States were local assemblies consisting of the representatives of the three orders, the clergy, the nobility, and the

tiers fitat, performing very similar functions to those of our own (‘ounty Councils, but possessing the additional right of levying taxes and applying their proceeds within the limits of their province.

Still, their power was limited. The members of the States were nominated by the Crown, and, as a rule, were induced either by bribery or intimidation to carry out the mandates of the ministers of the King.

The money they raised, instead of being applied to purposes of public utility, was often squandered in gifts to influential personages or in useless festivities, and whenever the King was in pecuniary difficulties ~occasions which were of but too frequent occurrence—the States were coaxed or coerced into voting a subsidy to him under the pompous and misleading appellation of a don gratuit. The electoral provinces, which had neither provincial assemblies nor municipalities, were autocratically governed in the King’s name by his officials. But both the pays ( ’état and the [Jays (Z’élection not only differed from each other in their powers and financial administration, but in their constitution.

380

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

Every province had its peculiar laws. customs, and feudal rights, and was fenced in by protection from its neighbours; while some had their own special standard of weights and measures, rendering uniformity of administration almost impossible.

The numerous duties charged on raw materials or on manufactured goods on their passage from one province into another constituted a serious obstacle

to trade and consequent loss to the country, a loss which was further aggravated by the exactions of a horde of greedy members of a tyrannical executive. The difficulties and disorder such a state of aflairs occasioned at the treasury can be imagined.

But if the system of administration was complicated, the whole

system of land tenure was more involved still. Real property con— sisted of nobiliary fiefs and Ctr/(sires, held by plebeians; the flefs were exempt from, the cmsives were subject to, the tut/1e. In early days the greater part of France consisted of fiefs. which, in the course of time, had been dismembered, parcelled out, and sold; but on the eve of the Revolution there were still thirty thousand of them.

Though the fiefs had passed by sale into the hands of

plebeians or of peasants, they were in some cases only held nominally as tenancies, and were liable to an infinite variety of feudal rights which were enforced by their paramount lords; whilst, in others, the owners entered into the full exercise of the feudal

rights which were inherent in the soil.

Some faint analogy may be

said to exist between the English copyhold system and the service which had to be rendered under feudal customs, The copyhold system in England is, of course, either being rapidly commuted or is obsolete, and the writer of this paper. for instance, is in possession of a meadow for which he has to do three days‘ work at haymaking

time—a duty to which he has not yet been summoned, fortunately for

1 893

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTI0A'

381

But there were péuges of other kinds.

A horse

known as a pértge.

with four white legs had to pay for this natural endowment, and a tinker, whenever he passed the gates of a castle with his stove, had

to pay some coppers, and, in the event of his being unable to do so, he was obliged to kneel on the hard ground and recite a Pater and Ate. It would be superfluous to dwell on the vexations from which the

agriculturists suffered; but it may be useful to remind the reader that these numerous and conflicting feudal rights and privileges constituted a serious obstacle to the transfer of land, affording an opportunity, which was eagerly seized in many cases, for. litiga— tion of a protracted and unscrupulous character. Still, 1t must be remembered that in those days the notion of caste was so firmly rooted in every portion of the community by tradition and custom,

that the third estate looked upon the drawbacks of their condition very much as a matter of course. The privileges of the nobility were in their eyes justly earned because of their military servrces,

and the clergy. because of their divine mission and the alms they dispensedi—Or were supposed to dispense—amongst the poor.

Centuries of subjection and oppression had secured the people in the chains of a bondage and ignorance from which their rulers took good care not to release them. Until the end of the sixteenth

century slavery may he said to have existed in France, as men and even women were barter-ed for money, and until the end of the seventeenth century the purchase of negroes for domestic service

was openly countenanced.

Until the Revolution, the labourer was

occasionally sold with the soil, and there were one hundred and fifty

thousand serfs in France at the end of the eighteenth century.

But. on the whole. the exemption of the governing classes from

These duties in

certain taxes: exasperated the lower orders less than the peculiar form

France were numerous and irksome. A peasant was compelled to use exclusively, and to pay for the use of, a certain mill, bakehouse.

of taxation and the irritating methods employed for its collection.

or wine-press ; he was subjected to the 600166, or unpaid labour ; he had to pay a tax on the sale of his crops as well as on manufactured goods ; and on every recurrent sale on any portion of the land that

mentioned.

had been acquired originally from the feudal lord. He was not allowed to sell the wine he had grown until the feudal lord had sold the pro~

clergy and nobility were exempt from it. Various oflices besides entitled their holders to immunity from the tattle, some because of the patent of nobility they brought to the plebeian purchaser, all (hivernmcnt offices being purchasable. The Crown, which lost no

the lord of the manor, the meadow, and himself.

duce of his own vineyards, and, even then—but this applied to all

wine that was grown by nobles as well as peasants—duty had to be paid on its transit from one province to another, and it was, more— over, subject to certain feudal rights levied by persons in high station on its passage through their private domains.

It frequently occurred

that duty was levied on a barrel of wine twenty—seven times in being conveyed from the place it was grown to that in which it was sold, and it was said that it would have been cheaper to send wine from l’ekin to France than from Pontoise to Paris. This particular impost was

The direct taxes were first of all the tattle, which has already been

The tail/c was not levied in a uniform manner.

In

some provinces it was a poll tax, in others a land tax; in others again

it was a combined poll and land tax.

But, in all cases, both the

opportunity of increasing its income, went on steadily multiplying these appointments with the object of selling them. and before the Revolution broke out they numbered as many as four thousand.

There were many minor offices also which enjoyed exemption from

the Milly. though they carried no patent of nobility with them. The consequence of this was that the tax was chiefly concentrated on the agricultural interest, the very one which it would have been

I

380

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

Every province had its peculiar laws. customs, and feudal rights, and was fenced in by protection from its neighbours; while some had their own special standard of weights and measures, rendering uniformity of administration almost impossible.

The numerous duties charged on raw materials or on manufactured goods on their passage from one province into another constituted a serious obstacle

to trade and consequent loss to the country, a loss which was further aggravated by the exactions of a horde of greedy members of a tyrannical executive. The difficulties and disorder such a state of aflairs occasioned at the treasury can be imagined.

But if the system of administration was complicated, the whole

system of land tenure was more involved still. Real property con— sisted of nobiliary fiefs and Ctr/(sires, held by plebeians; the flefs were exempt from, the cmsives were subject to, the tut/1e. In early days the greater part of France consisted of fiefs. which, in the course of time, had been dismembered, parcelled out, and sold; but on the eve of the Revolution there were still thirty thousand of them.

Though the fiefs had passed by sale into the hands of

plebeians or of peasants, they were in some cases only held nominally as tenancies, and were liable to an infinite variety of feudal rights which were enforced by their paramount lords; whilst, in others, the owners entered into the full exercise of the feudal

rights which were inherent in the soil.

Some faint analogy may be

said to exist between the English copyhold system and the service which had to be rendered under feudal customs, The copyhold system in England is, of course, either being rapidly commuted or is obsolete, and the writer of this paper. for instance, is in possession of a meadow for which he has to do three days‘ work at haymaking

time—a duty to which he has not yet been summoned, fortunately for

1 893

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTI0A'

381

But there were péuges of other kinds.

A horse

known as a pértge.

with four white legs had to pay for this natural endowment, and a tinker, whenever he passed the gates of a castle with his stove, had

to pay some coppers, and, in the event of his being unable to do so, he was obliged to kneel on the hard ground and recite a Pater and Ate. It would be superfluous to dwell on the vexations from which the

agriculturists suffered; but it may be useful to remind the reader that these numerous and conflicting feudal rights and privileges constituted a serious obstacle to the transfer of land, affording an opportunity, which was eagerly seized in many cases, for. litiga— tion of a protracted and unscrupulous character. Still, 1t must be remembered that in those days the notion of caste was so firmly rooted in every portion of the community by tradition and custom,

that the third estate looked upon the drawbacks of their condition very much as a matter of course. The privileges of the nobility were in their eyes justly earned because of their military servrces,

and the clergy. because of their divine mission and the alms they dispensedi—Or were supposed to dispense—amongst the poor.

Centuries of subjection and oppression had secured the people in the chains of a bondage and ignorance from which their rulers took good care not to release them. Until the end of the sixteenth

century slavery may he said to have existed in France, as men and even women were barter-ed for money, and until the end of the seventeenth century the purchase of negroes for domestic service

was openly countenanced.

Until the Revolution, the labourer was

occasionally sold with the soil, and there were one hundred and fifty

thousand serfs in France at the end of the eighteenth century.

But. on the whole. the exemption of the governing classes from

These duties in

certain taxes: exasperated the lower orders less than the peculiar form

France were numerous and irksome. A peasant was compelled to use exclusively, and to pay for the use of, a certain mill, bakehouse.

of taxation and the irritating methods employed for its collection.

or wine-press ; he was subjected to the 600166, or unpaid labour ; he had to pay a tax on the sale of his crops as well as on manufactured goods ; and on every recurrent sale on any portion of the land that

mentioned.

had been acquired originally from the feudal lord. He was not allowed to sell the wine he had grown until the feudal lord had sold the pro~

clergy and nobility were exempt from it. Various oflices besides entitled their holders to immunity from the tattle, some because of the patent of nobility they brought to the plebeian purchaser, all (hivernmcnt offices being purchasable. The Crown, which lost no

the lord of the manor, the meadow, and himself.

duce of his own vineyards, and, even then—but this applied to all

wine that was grown by nobles as well as peasants—duty had to be paid on its transit from one province to another, and it was, more— over, subject to certain feudal rights levied by persons in high station on its passage through their private domains.

It frequently occurred

that duty was levied on a barrel of wine twenty—seven times in being conveyed from the place it was grown to that in which it was sold, and it was said that it would have been cheaper to send wine from l’ekin to France than from Pontoise to Paris. This particular impost was

The direct taxes were first of all the tattle, which has already been

The tail/c was not levied in a uniform manner.

In

some provinces it was a poll tax, in others a land tax; in others again

it was a combined poll and land tax.

But, in all cases, both the

opportunity of increasing its income, went on steadily multiplying these appointments with the object of selling them. and before the Revolution broke out they numbered as many as four thousand.

There were many minor offices also which enjoyed exemption from

the Milly. though they carried no patent of nobility with them. The consequence of this was that the tax was chiefly concentrated on the agricultural interest, the very one which it would have been

I

3 2

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

advisable to develop.

March

The ziru'llc levied on the agricultural interest

was, comparatively speaking, unprofitable : in the first place because of the expenses of collection : and, in the second. as in most cases when a plebeian acquired a competence. he secured his exemption from this tax by purchasing an estate with feudal rights apper— taining to it.

The population of France at that time has been variouslv computed. but at the accession of Louis the Sixteenth M. (tomel puts it down approximately at 25,300.000 persons. The odd 300.000 may be evenly distributed between the clergy and the nobilitv, who, as has been said. were exempt from the payment of the [rill/c. The 25,000,000 were more or less liable to itAthat is to saV. the portion of them belonging to the rural classes. To realise fully the hardship caused by the incidence of this tax. we must take into account that about half of the whole soil of France belonged to the clergv and the nobility, and thus the wealthiest section of the landed ctimmunitv contributed nothing to the tax, which fell exelusively on the small

l 8 93

CA USES OF I'11E FRENCH RE VOL UTION

38 3

did not allow him time to deal with the taillc, and Necker, when he assumed oflice. fomtd that those who paid it still belonged to the

poorest portion of the population.

So the talllc continued to be

enforced under Louis the Sixteenth, and the taxpayer was defrauded of his means by unfair assessments, unless, in self-defence, he was able to defraud the State by an assumed impecuniosity.

Rousseau. in his Confessions. relates an anecdote which, in a brief compass. conveys to us a more realistic impression of the vexatious evils of the taxation than might pOssibly be gathered from a much more elaborate dissertation. During one of those pedestrian

tours in which he delighted in his earlier days. he was impelled by hunger and thirst to enter the cottage of a peasant.

He thought

that he would find there the comforts and meet with the hospitality he had experienced in Switzerland under similar circumstances. lle asked for some dinner. for which he offered payment : and the peasant said that skimmed milk and barley bread was all he could offer him. Rousseau. however. sat down and thoroughly enjoyed hi.s

and struggling proprietors amongst whom the other half of adri—

fare. frugal as it was, but he noticed that all the time his host was

cultural France was divided. But the mode in which the /r/lllc rwas levied still further illustrates its iniquity. The t ‘ontroller—ticneral of the finances. in the first instance. decreed that a certain aaeregat e sum was to be raised by it. and then the subordinate otiicials :fid the local landlords in each province and parish were left to decide amonost

scanning him narrowly. l’ieing satistied. apparently. that Rousseau was an honest young fellow and not a tax-collector in disguise, he opened a concealed cupboard from which he produced some ham and

themselves how the prescribed amount was to be extracted from tohe

taxpayers.

The combined forces of jobbery and absolute authoritv

rendered its incidence grossly unfair. the power l0calities generally

paying the larger share. while thericher ones escaped lightlv. Thus there was brought about a condition of things in which the most miserable section of the community were made to feel their inferiority in every relation of life, they were humbled in all their feelings. and they could not but loathe thoscwhom birth or favouritism hadaldaced above them. As late as 1779, the Abbe Yery. one of the reporters

excellent

bread and

wine, which were followed by an omelette.

Rousseau could not conceive what had alarmed his host. who refused to take any money, but he finally explained that he had hidden his wine and bread to escape the duty and the laillc. as, were he not thought to be starving, he would be a ruined man. The future author of the (fun/wot Social signilicantly adds that on that day the seed was laid in his heart of an undying hatred for the oppressors of a. suffering people. The man he had just left dared not eat the bread that

he had earned by the sweat of his brow, and. though

of the Committee of Taxation. wrote that the collectors of the trrilll‘

making a good livelihood. he could only stave off ruin by pretending he was as poor as those amongst whom he lived.

The second direct tax was called the capitation tax; a kind of

had no other rule to go upon for its assessment than their own

graduated tax on capital, which was levied on the nobility as well

personal opinion as to the relative. resources of each taxpayer.

as on the tiers (chit. The clergy had purchased their exemption from this tax in 1807, for the sum of 23,000,000 livres (or francs) ; and the members of the royal family, the royal household, the heads of noble families, and such members of the tiers étal as had appointments in the royal household.‘ contributed only800,000 livres out of the 42,000,000 livres the tax realised, a proportion entirely inadequate to their wealth. But this 42,000,000 livres was a much lower figure than the

The

difficulty of effecting any reform in the system of taxationlwas made apparent. in 1776, when it was proposed that the incumbents of some 1fzw a$:€5:)::1t:lle:hilldpf‘l‘ei‘fl‘OInche tolllc, should be subjected-to .

.

._

s, a supitme court With power to deal wrth

certain taxes and the administration of some feudal dues. at once addressed a remonstrance to the King on the ground that he was

seeking to encroach indirectly upon the inherent rights of the exempted classes. The members of the Cour des Aides were them— selves in this category, and as it was their own privilem-s that were

assailed, they were able to secure that the King‘s decii‘e should be no more than so much waste—paper. Turgot’s short tenancv of power

‘ Until the beginning of the eighteenth century all the members of the royal household were noblemen, but their appointments had to be purchased, and as money was becoming scarce amongst the nobility, many of the wealthy buzz/"Vents stopped in and bought the vacant places.

3 2

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

advisable to develop.

March

The ziru'llc levied on the agricultural interest

was, comparatively speaking, unprofitable : in the first place because of the expenses of collection : and, in the second. as in most cases when a plebeian acquired a competence. he secured his exemption from this tax by purchasing an estate with feudal rights apper— taining to it.

The population of France at that time has been variouslv computed. but at the accession of Louis the Sixteenth M. (tomel puts it down approximately at 25,300.000 persons. The odd 300.000 may be evenly distributed between the clergy and the nobilitv, who, as has been said. were exempt from the payment of the [rill/c. The 25,000,000 were more or less liable to itAthat is to saV. the portion of them belonging to the rural classes. To realise fully the hardship caused by the incidence of this tax. we must take into account that about half of the whole soil of France belonged to the clergv and the nobility, and thus the wealthiest section of the landed ctimmunitv contributed nothing to the tax, which fell exelusively on the small

l 8 93

CA USES OF I'11E FRENCH RE VOL UTION

38 3

did not allow him time to deal with the taillc, and Necker, when he assumed oflice. fomtd that those who paid it still belonged to the

poorest portion of the population.

So the talllc continued to be

enforced under Louis the Sixteenth, and the taxpayer was defrauded of his means by unfair assessments, unless, in self-defence, he was able to defraud the State by an assumed impecuniosity.

Rousseau. in his Confessions. relates an anecdote which, in a brief compass. conveys to us a more realistic impression of the vexatious evils of the taxation than might pOssibly be gathered from a much more elaborate dissertation. During one of those pedestrian

tours in which he delighted in his earlier days. he was impelled by hunger and thirst to enter the cottage of a peasant.

He thought

that he would find there the comforts and meet with the hospitality he had experienced in Switzerland under similar circumstances. lle asked for some dinner. for which he offered payment : and the peasant said that skimmed milk and barley bread was all he could offer him. Rousseau. however. sat down and thoroughly enjoyed hi.s

and struggling proprietors amongst whom the other half of adri—

fare. frugal as it was, but he noticed that all the time his host was

cultural France was divided. But the mode in which the /r/lllc rwas levied still further illustrates its iniquity. The t ‘ontroller—ticneral of the finances. in the first instance. decreed that a certain aaeregat e sum was to be raised by it. and then the subordinate otiicials :fid the local landlords in each province and parish were left to decide amonost

scanning him narrowly. l’ieing satistied. apparently. that Rousseau was an honest young fellow and not a tax-collector in disguise, he opened a concealed cupboard from which he produced some ham and

themselves how the prescribed amount was to be extracted from tohe

taxpayers.

The combined forces of jobbery and absolute authoritv

rendered its incidence grossly unfair. the power l0calities generally

paying the larger share. while thericher ones escaped lightlv. Thus there was brought about a condition of things in which the most miserable section of the community were made to feel their inferiority in every relation of life, they were humbled in all their feelings. and they could not but loathe thoscwhom birth or favouritism hadaldaced above them. As late as 1779, the Abbe Yery. one of the reporters

excellent

bread and

wine, which were followed by an omelette.

Rousseau could not conceive what had alarmed his host. who refused to take any money, but he finally explained that he had hidden his wine and bread to escape the duty and the laillc. as, were he not thought to be starving, he would be a ruined man. The future author of the (fun/wot Social signilicantly adds that on that day the seed was laid in his heart of an undying hatred for the oppressors of a. suffering people. The man he had just left dared not eat the bread that

he had earned by the sweat of his brow, and. though

of the Committee of Taxation. wrote that the collectors of the trrilll‘

making a good livelihood. he could only stave off ruin by pretending he was as poor as those amongst whom he lived.

The second direct tax was called the capitation tax; a kind of

had no other rule to go upon for its assessment than their own

graduated tax on capital, which was levied on the nobility as well

personal opinion as to the relative. resources of each taxpayer.

as on the tiers (chit. The clergy had purchased their exemption from this tax in 1807, for the sum of 23,000,000 livres (or francs) ; and the members of the royal family, the royal household, the heads of noble families, and such members of the tiers étal as had appointments in the royal household.‘ contributed only800,000 livres out of the 42,000,000 livres the tax realised, a proportion entirely inadequate to their wealth. But this 42,000,000 livres was a much lower figure than the

The

difficulty of effecting any reform in the system of taxationlwas made apparent. in 1776, when it was proposed that the incumbents of some 1fzw a$:€5:)::1t:lle:hilldpf‘l‘ei‘fl‘OInche tolllc, should be subjected-to .

.

._

s, a supitme court With power to deal wrth

certain taxes and the administration of some feudal dues. at once addressed a remonstrance to the King on the ground that he was

seeking to encroach indirectly upon the inherent rights of the exempted classes. The members of the Cour des Aides were them— selves in this category, and as it was their own privilem-s that were

assailed, they were able to secure that the King‘s decii‘e should be no more than so much waste—paper. Turgot’s short tenancv of power

‘ Until the beginning of the eighteenth century all the members of the royal household were noblemen, but their appointments had to be purchased, and as money was becoming scarce amongst the nobility, many of the wealthy buzz/"Vents stopped in and bought the vacant places.

384

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

capitation tax ought to have produced, did not the inefficient system of administration render a fair assessment of it impossible. The collectors formed their estimates arbitrarily, and any protest on the part of the taxed gave rise to inquisitorial investigations which were often aggravated by private spite and jealousy, unless the fear of giving offence to influential persons or private friendship secured immunity from payment altogether.

The third direct tax. instituted by Colbert, was the vmgtiéme, an income tax supposed to be levied on every class.

The clergy

1 8 93

CA USES OF 1'HE FRENCH RE VOL UTA/ON

385

were cordially detested, how their incidence opened the way for gross abuse, and ultimately caused the entire system to be embraced in one sweeping condemnation.

The indirect taxes were very numerous, comprising amongst them the customs, the octroi, the excise, the taxes on wine, oil, tobacco, cards, manufactured goods, and the gabclle or salt tax. It must be remembered that customs duties were not only levied at the frontiers

of the kingdom. but between every French province. All these indirect taxes were farmed to a company, consisting of sixty

bought themselves out occasionally for a term of years by the pay— ment of a lump sum, their great wealth enabling them to save their

fermicrs {/énérunm, ironically termed the sixty pillars of the State,

pockets in this manner, as the vingtitEme was frequently reduced to a tenth. and the tenth occasionally to a. fifth. but whatever the sum they paid it was never in full proportion to the taxable value of their property.

M. Taine puts down the capitalised value of the property of the clergy at four milliards. producing an income of from 80,000,000 livres to 100.000.000 livres, which was brought up to 200,000.000 livres by the addition of the tithes. Out of this they kept the eCcIesiastical edifices in repair. and maintained their schools. but that is all that can be said on their behalf, and they fully deserved the obloquy and discredit they incurred because of the immoral conduct of most of their dignitaries, who squandered the money of the (‘hurch in protii— gacy. They possessed not only broad domains in the country, but their palatial mansions, surrounded by extensive gardens. formed a

Fourteenth were face to face with an appalling deficit, and were at their wits‘ end to raise money. A syndicate of financiers relieved the immediate wants of the King by advancing a sum of ready money

striking feature of the towns, and the middle classes looked with

resentment upon these richly-endowed priests. whose ostentatious grandeur and pretensions were a constant source of offence to the people.

The sutfering inflicted on the rural classes by the fiscal system

a system tirst established in 1697. when the ministers of Louis the

to meet the emergency, and they received in return the right of col— lecting the taxes. The fermlci's grammar were appointed by the King for a period of six years, paying each year in advance a stipu-

lated sum for the term. Their profits on the collection were estimated at a certain sum, and if it was discovered that the value of their

" farms ‘appreciably exceeded the estimate, the amount of the contract, when it came to be renewed, was proportionately increased. Nominally the fern/dew, as has been said, were sixty in number, but the King appointed twenty—seven more, under the name of ' adjuncts.’ Then,

again, in many cases the fcrmier was himself a man of straw, to whom the King gave the appointment as a favour.

The office, however. was so profitable that men of wealth were always ready

not only to supply the nominal fermicr with the money to pur— chase the contract, but to subsidise him handsomely for the privilege of doing so. These partners were called cruupicxrs—hence the modern term; but they were of two classes. The legitimate

can be realised when it is stated that out of every hundred francs of net revenue, no less than fifty-three francs were paid in direct taxation. fourteen francs twenty-eight centimes in tithes, and four—

illegitimate croupier, who invested no money, and was placed as a

teen francs twenty—eight eentimes in feudal dues. leaving less than

charge on the ‘farm,’ was one of the most prolific causes of abuse

one—fifth part for the support of the taxpayer and his family.2 ‘The taxation in France bore a higher proportion to its wealth than under any of the governments up to the fall of Napoleon the Third, with the exeeption of that of the Reign of Terror. In some pro— vinces the proportion of taxation to the revenue borne by those who were lrlillablc was about five times as great as at present, and its enormity was mainly due to the exemption enjoyed by

connected with a bad system.

almost all the wealthiest members of the community.’ 3 It is not difficult to understand, therefore, how these direct taxes 3 Sybcl’s Ilisz‘uirc (It: M Itézfulutimz.

3 Lecky‘s History 1y” Enyla/zd in fire Eiy/ttmazZ/L Century.

croupier, who invested his money in the speculation, was, according to the feeling of the time, engaged in a fair transaction; but the

This latter class of croupiers were

either notabilities or Court favourites—mere licensed plunderers of

the people. Louis the Fifteenth gave croupes to his mistresses, and even had a share in one himself. The ‘ farms ’ were also saddled with pensions imposed upon them by the King, whose daughters and daughters-in—law had their incomes augmented from this source.

When Louis the Sixteenth ascended the throne, however, he trans— ferred part of the croupe he had inherited from his predecessor to his faithful servant, Thierry, and restored the remainder to the treasury.

In addition to these impositions, the fermicrs génémum were expected to ensure the good will of each successive Controller—General by a VOL. XXXIII—No. 193 DD

x

384

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

March

capitation tax ought to have produced, did not the inefficient system of administration render a fair assessment of it impossible. The collectors formed their estimates arbitrarily, and any protest on the part of the taxed gave rise to inquisitorial investigations which were often aggravated by private spite and jealousy, unless the fear of giving offence to influential persons or private friendship secured immunity from payment altogether.

The third direct tax. instituted by Colbert, was the vmgtiéme, an income tax supposed to be levied on every class.

The clergy

1 8 93

CA USES OF 1'HE FRENCH RE VOL UTA/ON

385

were cordially detested, how their incidence opened the way for gross abuse, and ultimately caused the entire system to be embraced in one sweeping condemnation.

The indirect taxes were very numerous, comprising amongst them the customs, the octroi, the excise, the taxes on wine, oil, tobacco, cards, manufactured goods, and the gabclle or salt tax. It must be remembered that customs duties were not only levied at the frontiers

of the kingdom. but between every French province. All these indirect taxes were farmed to a company, consisting of sixty

bought themselves out occasionally for a term of years by the pay— ment of a lump sum, their great wealth enabling them to save their

fermicrs {/énérunm, ironically termed the sixty pillars of the State,

pockets in this manner, as the vingtitEme was frequently reduced to a tenth. and the tenth occasionally to a. fifth. but whatever the sum they paid it was never in full proportion to the taxable value of their property.

M. Taine puts down the capitalised value of the property of the clergy at four milliards. producing an income of from 80,000,000 livres to 100.000.000 livres, which was brought up to 200,000.000 livres by the addition of the tithes. Out of this they kept the eCcIesiastical edifices in repair. and maintained their schools. but that is all that can be said on their behalf, and they fully deserved the obloquy and discredit they incurred because of the immoral conduct of most of their dignitaries, who squandered the money of the (‘hurch in protii— gacy. They possessed not only broad domains in the country, but their palatial mansions, surrounded by extensive gardens. formed a

Fourteenth were face to face with an appalling deficit, and were at their wits‘ end to raise money. A syndicate of financiers relieved the immediate wants of the King by advancing a sum of ready money

striking feature of the towns, and the middle classes looked with

resentment upon these richly-endowed priests. whose ostentatious grandeur and pretensions were a constant source of offence to the people.

The sutfering inflicted on the rural classes by the fiscal system

a system tirst established in 1697. when the ministers of Louis the

to meet the emergency, and they received in return the right of col— lecting the taxes. The fermlci's grammar were appointed by the King for a period of six years, paying each year in advance a stipu-

lated sum for the term. Their profits on the collection were estimated at a certain sum, and if it was discovered that the value of their

" farms ‘appreciably exceeded the estimate, the amount of the contract, when it came to be renewed, was proportionately increased. Nominally the fern/dew, as has been said, were sixty in number, but the King appointed twenty—seven more, under the name of ' adjuncts.’ Then,

again, in many cases the fcrmier was himself a man of straw, to whom the King gave the appointment as a favour.

The office, however. was so profitable that men of wealth were always ready

not only to supply the nominal fermicr with the money to pur— chase the contract, but to subsidise him handsomely for the privilege of doing so. These partners were called cruupicxrs—hence the modern term; but they were of two classes. The legitimate

can be realised when it is stated that out of every hundred francs of net revenue, no less than fifty-three francs were paid in direct taxation. fourteen francs twenty-eight centimes in tithes, and four—

illegitimate croupier, who invested no money, and was placed as a

teen francs twenty—eight eentimes in feudal dues. leaving less than

charge on the ‘farm,’ was one of the most prolific causes of abuse

one—fifth part for the support of the taxpayer and his family.2 ‘The taxation in France bore a higher proportion to its wealth than under any of the governments up to the fall of Napoleon the Third, with the exeeption of that of the Reign of Terror. In some pro— vinces the proportion of taxation to the revenue borne by those who were lrlillablc was about five times as great as at present, and its enormity was mainly due to the exemption enjoyed by

connected with a bad system.

almost all the wealthiest members of the community.’ 3 It is not difficult to understand, therefore, how these direct taxes 3 Sybcl’s Ilisz‘uirc (It: M Itézfulutimz.

3 Lecky‘s History 1y” Enyla/zd in fire Eiy/ttmazZ/L Century.

croupier, who invested his money in the speculation, was, according to the feeling of the time, engaged in a fair transaction; but the

This latter class of croupiers were

either notabilities or Court favourites—mere licensed plunderers of

the people. Louis the Fifteenth gave croupes to his mistresses, and even had a share in one himself. The ‘ farms ’ were also saddled with pensions imposed upon them by the King, whose daughters and daughters-in—law had their incomes augmented from this source.

When Louis the Sixteenth ascended the throne, however, he trans— ferred part of the croupe he had inherited from his predecessor to his faithful servant, Thierry, and restored the remainder to the treasury.

In addition to these impositions, the fermicrs génémum were expected to ensure the good will of each successive Controller—General by a VOL. XXXIII—No. 193 DD

x

—

3SG

THE NINE1'EEN]'H CENTUR Y

March

considerable gift of money, and in 17H the Abbe Terray received in this way a sum of 300,000 livres.

The extravagant expenditure of some of the fcrmicrs générunx conveyed an exaggerated impression to the minds of the people as to the profit they derived from their contracts. and the odium which fairly attached to some of their number was imliscriminately applied to the whole body of them, though they included many honest and conscien— tious financiers and such distinguished men as Helvetius, Lavoisier, and Beaujon. the founder of the well—known hospital in Paris.

A more immediate cause of the hatred with which the masses regarded the fcrmicrs ,r/mn’w-r/Hm, and which ultimately sent thirtytwo of them to the guillotine. was rather the nature of their work than the exorbitant profit they derived from it. They were per-

1893

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

387

at which the inhabitants were compelled to purchase their stores of salt. These warehouses were numerous in some provinces, and few in others. but, whether sufficient or insufficient for the needs of the

population, they were often situated at a considerable distance from the towns and villages, whose inhabitants had to trudge miles along bad roads to buy their salt. But this was not all. It was prescribed by law that the head of every family must lay in his stock of salt, not at such times as might suit his own convenience, but on one

stated day in the year.

Should he fail in this observance he was

fined, and he was also fined if he purchased a smaller quantity than the law prescribed. His hardships did not stop even there. On making this annual purchase, he had to state the different purposes for which he intended to use the salt during the ensuing year, and in the event

petually brought into collision with the people through their agents,

of his being discovered salting his soup instead of his pork according

who were invested with power to make domiciliary visits, to seize

to his statement, or his pork instead of his soup 0n the day he had named, he was also liable to a fine. His kitchen was never

goods suspected of being smuggled, and to take other measures of an invidious character to enable them to extort the taxes, so that

secure from the intrusion of the inspecting officer, and woe to

they incurred the execration of the entire population.

the housewife who was detected in any petty infraction of this law.

The most harassing and arbitrary tax of all was the gnbcllc. and it may well appear inconceivable that in a populous and civilised country such an impost could be maintained at all. Out of the six

districts into which France was divided for the purpose of this tax, it was levied only in four, as one had never been subjected to it. while another had in early times purchased its exemption from it. Une of

the inevitable consequences of this partial distribution of the tax was that the price of salt varied in different districts to an extraordinary degree, being as much as thirty times as dear in one part of France as in another. It was only natural that the inhabitants where the weight of the impost fell so oppressivcly should regard their neighbours in the more favoured parts with envy, and that they should endeavour to equalise matters by smuggling salt into their

As a matter of course. some of the important towns were exempt from the (/rrbcllc. as well as influential ofiicials and magistrates in the country. whilst nobles escaped it altogether by receiving dona— tions of salt under the name of frunc-sulé. \Ve may well ask why this law was never abolished or modified '5' Simply because it returned millions of francs to an empty exchequer. And why was it not im— posed on the untaxed provinces?

Because these provinces had

provincial States in which the clerical and noble element preponderated. who would have resisted to the utmost an infringement

of their privileges, and whom the Government was afraid to offend.

‘

Though not directly a tax, the corréc came within the spirit and had the result of taxation, and oppressed the lower orders as much

districts. Carts and carriages were stopped on the highway and searched by the tax collectors; no private house was safe from a visit from them night or day; and on the slightest suspicion they used

as the gabellc itself. The provisions of the cm'rée, too, were as complicated and as varied as those of the salt tax. It may be sufficient

the power of arrest that was vested in them.

It has been stated

to say, for the present purpose, that the rural population had to keep

that during the first few years of the reign of Louis the Sixteenth. these arrests averaged 3,700 per annum; that upwards of 4,000

the main roads in repair without being remunerated for their labour.

They were forced away from the fields at the time they could least be spared, occasionally having to travel twelve days to reach their allotted work, and they were compelled to repair the main roads, which were useless to them, while the parish roads on which they were dependent for their communications were allowed to go derelict.

adults and 6,500 children were apprehended for smuggling salt alone;

but whilst the majority were shortly released and others only fined, 300 were condemned to the galleys.“ Still, the unequal assessment of the tax might have been borne without much heartburning, but for the tyrannical laws under which

These are some examples of the oppressions to which the rural

the people were forced to purchase this commodity. N0 retail dealing in it was permitted, and Government warehouses were established

classes in France were subjected until the eve of the Revolution, forming part of a system by which labour was hampered and the agricultural interest impaired. Sut the position of the artisan in the

‘ Some writers give a very much larger number.

n02

—

3SG

THE NINE1'EEN]'H CENTUR Y

March

considerable gift of money, and in 17H the Abbe Terray received in this way a sum of 300,000 livres.

The extravagant expenditure of some of the fcrmicrs générunx conveyed an exaggerated impression to the minds of the people as to the profit they derived from their contracts. and the odium which fairly attached to some of their number was imliscriminately applied to the whole body of them, though they included many honest and conscien— tious financiers and such distinguished men as Helvetius, Lavoisier, and Beaujon. the founder of the well—known hospital in Paris.

A more immediate cause of the hatred with which the masses regarded the fcrmicrs ,r/mn’w-r/Hm, and which ultimately sent thirtytwo of them to the guillotine. was rather the nature of their work than the exorbitant profit they derived from it. They were per-

1893

CA USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

387

at which the inhabitants were compelled to purchase their stores of salt. These warehouses were numerous in some provinces, and few in others. but, whether sufficient or insufficient for the needs of the

population, they were often situated at a considerable distance from the towns and villages, whose inhabitants had to trudge miles along bad roads to buy their salt. But this was not all. It was prescribed by law that the head of every family must lay in his stock of salt, not at such times as might suit his own convenience, but on one

stated day in the year.

Should he fail in this observance he was

fined, and he was also fined if he purchased a smaller quantity than the law prescribed. His hardships did not stop even there. On making this annual purchase, he had to state the different purposes for which he intended to use the salt during the ensuing year, and in the event

petually brought into collision with the people through their agents,

of his being discovered salting his soup instead of his pork according

who were invested with power to make domiciliary visits, to seize

to his statement, or his pork instead of his soup 0n the day he had named, he was also liable to a fine. His kitchen was never

goods suspected of being smuggled, and to take other measures of an invidious character to enable them to extort the taxes, so that

secure from the intrusion of the inspecting officer, and woe to

they incurred the execration of the entire population.

the housewife who was detected in any petty infraction of this law.

The most harassing and arbitrary tax of all was the gnbcllc. and it may well appear inconceivable that in a populous and civilised country such an impost could be maintained at all. Out of the six

districts into which France was divided for the purpose of this tax, it was levied only in four, as one had never been subjected to it. while another had in early times purchased its exemption from it. Une of

the inevitable consequences of this partial distribution of the tax was that the price of salt varied in different districts to an extraordinary degree, being as much as thirty times as dear in one part of France as in another. It was only natural that the inhabitants where the weight of the impost fell so oppressivcly should regard their neighbours in the more favoured parts with envy, and that they should endeavour to equalise matters by smuggling salt into their

As a matter of course. some of the important towns were exempt from the (/rrbcllc. as well as influential ofiicials and magistrates in the country. whilst nobles escaped it altogether by receiving dona— tions of salt under the name of frunc-sulé. \Ve may well ask why this law was never abolished or modified '5' Simply because it returned millions of francs to an empty exchequer. And why was it not im— posed on the untaxed provinces?

Because these provinces had

provincial States in which the clerical and noble element preponderated. who would have resisted to the utmost an infringement

of their privileges, and whom the Government was afraid to offend.

‘

Though not directly a tax, the corréc came within the spirit and had the result of taxation, and oppressed the lower orders as much

districts. Carts and carriages were stopped on the highway and searched by the tax collectors; no private house was safe from a visit from them night or day; and on the slightest suspicion they used

as the gabellc itself. The provisions of the cm'rée, too, were as complicated and as varied as those of the salt tax. It may be sufficient

the power of arrest that was vested in them.

It has been stated

to say, for the present purpose, that the rural population had to keep

that during the first few years of the reign of Louis the Sixteenth. these arrests averaged 3,700 per annum; that upwards of 4,000

the main roads in repair without being remunerated for their labour.

They were forced away from the fields at the time they could least be spared, occasionally having to travel twelve days to reach their allotted work, and they were compelled to repair the main roads, which were useless to them, while the parish roads on which they were dependent for their communications were allowed to go derelict.

adults and 6,500 children were apprehended for smuggling salt alone;

but whilst the majority were shortly released and others only fined, 300 were condemned to the galleys.“ Still, the unequal assessment of the tax might have been borne without much heartburning, but for the tyrannical laws under which

These are some examples of the oppressions to which the rural

the people were forced to purchase this commodity. N0 retail dealing in it was permitted, and Government warehouses were established

classes in France were subjected until the eve of the Revolution, forming part of a system by which labour was hampered and the agricultural interest impaired. Sut the position of the artisan in the

‘ Some writers give a very much larger number.

n02

1893 388

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y

CA USES ()1? T11E FREE '011 RE VOL UTION

389

March

towns was not much more enviable, as there, too, the blighting influ-

ence of obsolete feudal institutions and false ideas of political economy operated to restrict trade, and fetter the energies of the skilled worker.

In Continental countries, as well as in England, the control of the different trades had been in the hands of guilds from the earliest period of the dark ages. But though in their origin, and in the objects for which they were established, a general resemblance

adding competition, on putting every possible difficulty in the way of the only that to the number of masters. Some statutes prescribed the threw son could succeed the father in the mastership, others

position open to sons-in—law; others again enacted that only natives of the town in which the corporation was established were eligible; others excluded married men; from others women were altogether exvluded, even from the trades which they were best suited to carry on—such, for example, as embroidery.

As a fee was paid to the

existed between the trade guilds of England and France, in their gradual development, and especially in their later history, that resemblance diminished, until eventually it is no longer discernible.

In England the trade guilds formed the basis of municipal institutions, in which, in process of time, they became absorbed; while the enor— mous industrial movement of the country. together with the growth of individual enterprise, proved fatal to the preservation of monopolies that were obnoxious to that national sentiment which the Tudor monarchs knew so well how to direct and utilise. Labour was practi— cally free in England from the middle of the sixteenth century. Not so in France. There in the middle ages the merchants and artisans. harassed by the rapacity of the feudal lords, banded themselves together in self-defence in corporations, under charters which thev purchased from the Crown. By this means they were enabled tb pursue their avocations with comparative freedom; the wages of the workmen were assured and were paid on a fixed scale. But the guilds which were thus established for the security of trade ultimatelv

Crown on the appointment of every master, the King when in pecuni— ary straits often resorted to the plan of offering patents for sale as a means of raising money, and, to keep rivals out of the field, the existing masters of the corporations affected generally bought the patents and destroyed them, a species of toll which the King levied on them

came to be turned into close corporations, maintained for the benefit

by the bands of vagrants and criminals, who were driven into evil—

of the masters, whose monopolist privileges were recognised and up—

doing through the impossibility of obtaining employment, as a result of the commercial tyranny of the corporations.

held by the King in consideration of payments to the royal treasury.

It might have been expected that, when feudalism received its death—

so frequently that it became a heavy burden, and to that extent con— stituted a further drawback to trade. The companion, who was inden-

tured as an apprentice from his childhood, unless he was exceptionally fortunate, lingered the greater part of his life, or the whole of it, in a subordinate position, without hope of becoming an independent or

useful citizen. By dint of perseverance and thrift he might eventually be able to buy a mastership, or perhaps he might succeed to one by marrying the widow or daughter of a master; but such cases were the exceptions. Thus even when the rights of labour ceased to be imperilled by the pretensions of feudalism, and the workmen no

longer needed any protection, they were still reduced to a condition almost of slavery, and peace and security were constantly disturbed

blow from Richelieu, and when the necessity for the corporations had disappeared, the industrial and commercial community in France would have been sufficiently enlightened to appreciate the good policy

It is a matter of surprise—~but France is the land of surprisesfl that under such conditions trade flourished. But the resources of France are as inexhaustible as the activity, energy, and thrift of Frenchmen are prodigious. An abundance of raw products gave

of removing all oppressive restrictions from the expansion of trade.

ample material for work, and there was much demand for manufac—

as was done in England at an earlier period. But it served the selfish purposes of the Crown to perpetuate the privileges of the corporations. as they were turned into a valuable source of revenue. Every trade,

tured goods. The extravagant wants of the Court, the clergy, and nobility kept the workshops going, and France had to supply

artistic pursuit, and profession was tied up in the hands of one of

tion of which she has always been unrivalled.

But although the looms of Lyons, and the workshops of Paris and the great cities brought commercial prosperity, agriculture grew hopelessly depressed. Of the then condition of the agricultural classes in France Arthur Young has given us a faithful and terrible account. During the eighteenth century famine had periodically decimated the rural population, and forty million acres had gone out of cultivation. Nevertheless, the number of peasant properties had steadily increased, owing to the sale of their estates by the nobles

these corporations, sanctioned by royal charter, and governed by

statutes drawn with a rigorous determination to preserve their privi— leges and abuses intact, which statutes were administered by a

body called the Juo'mulc, composed of selected representatives of the corporations themselves.

The corporations consisted of three orders—masters, companions, and apprenticesflthe masters alone having the right to trade or make any profit. The statutes of each corporation differed as to the qualification for mastership, but they all concurred, in order to limit

all civilised countries with those artistic luxuries in the produc-

1893 388

THE NINETEENTH CENT UR Y

CA USES ()1? T11E FREE '011 RE VOL UTION

389

March

towns was not much more enviable, as there, too, the blighting influ-

ence of obsolete feudal institutions and false ideas of political economy operated to restrict trade, and fetter the energies of the skilled worker.

In Continental countries, as well as in England, the control of the different trades had been in the hands of guilds from the earliest period of the dark ages. But though in their origin, and in the objects for which they were established, a general resemblance

adding competition, on putting every possible difficulty in the way of the only that to the number of masters. Some statutes prescribed the threw son could succeed the father in the mastership, others

position open to sons-in—law; others again enacted that only natives of the town in which the corporation was established were eligible; others excluded married men; from others women were altogether exvluded, even from the trades which they were best suited to carry on—such, for example, as embroidery.

As a fee was paid to the

existed between the trade guilds of England and France, in their gradual development, and especially in their later history, that resemblance diminished, until eventually it is no longer discernible.

In England the trade guilds formed the basis of municipal institutions, in which, in process of time, they became absorbed; while the enor— mous industrial movement of the country. together with the growth of individual enterprise, proved fatal to the preservation of monopolies that were obnoxious to that national sentiment which the Tudor monarchs knew so well how to direct and utilise. Labour was practi— cally free in England from the middle of the sixteenth century. Not so in France. There in the middle ages the merchants and artisans. harassed by the rapacity of the feudal lords, banded themselves together in self-defence in corporations, under charters which thev purchased from the Crown. By this means they were enabled tb pursue their avocations with comparative freedom; the wages of the workmen were assured and were paid on a fixed scale. But the guilds which were thus established for the security of trade ultimatelv

Crown on the appointment of every master, the King when in pecuni— ary straits often resorted to the plan of offering patents for sale as a means of raising money, and, to keep rivals out of the field, the existing masters of the corporations affected generally bought the patents and destroyed them, a species of toll which the King levied on them

came to be turned into close corporations, maintained for the benefit

by the bands of vagrants and criminals, who were driven into evil—

of the masters, whose monopolist privileges were recognised and up—

doing through the impossibility of obtaining employment, as a result of the commercial tyranny of the corporations.

held by the King in consideration of payments to the royal treasury.

It might have been expected that, when feudalism received its death—

so frequently that it became a heavy burden, and to that extent con— stituted a further drawback to trade. The companion, who was inden-

tured as an apprentice from his childhood, unless he was exceptionally fortunate, lingered the greater part of his life, or the whole of it, in a subordinate position, without hope of becoming an independent or

useful citizen. By dint of perseverance and thrift he might eventually be able to buy a mastership, or perhaps he might succeed to one by marrying the widow or daughter of a master; but such cases were the exceptions. Thus even when the rights of labour ceased to be imperilled by the pretensions of feudalism, and the workmen no

longer needed any protection, they were still reduced to a condition almost of slavery, and peace and security were constantly disturbed

blow from Richelieu, and when the necessity for the corporations had disappeared, the industrial and commercial community in France would have been sufficiently enlightened to appreciate the good policy

It is a matter of surprise—~but France is the land of surprisesfl that under such conditions trade flourished. But the resources of France are as inexhaustible as the activity, energy, and thrift of Frenchmen are prodigious. An abundance of raw products gave

of removing all oppressive restrictions from the expansion of trade.

ample material for work, and there was much demand for manufac—

as was done in England at an earlier period. But it served the selfish purposes of the Crown to perpetuate the privileges of the corporations. as they were turned into a valuable source of revenue. Every trade,

tured goods. The extravagant wants of the Court, the clergy, and nobility kept the workshops going, and France had to supply

artistic pursuit, and profession was tied up in the hands of one of

tion of which she has always been unrivalled.

But although the looms of Lyons, and the workshops of Paris and the great cities brought commercial prosperity, agriculture grew hopelessly depressed. Of the then condition of the agricultural classes in France Arthur Young has given us a faithful and terrible account. During the eighteenth century famine had periodically decimated the rural population, and forty million acres had gone out of cultivation. Nevertheless, the number of peasant properties had steadily increased, owing to the sale of their estates by the nobles

these corporations, sanctioned by royal charter, and governed by

statutes drawn with a rigorous determination to preserve their privi— leges and abuses intact, which statutes were administered by a

body called the Juo'mulc, composed of selected representatives of the corporations themselves.

The corporations consisted of three orders—masters, companions, and apprenticesflthe masters alone having the right to trade or make any profit. The statutes of each corporation differed as to the qualification for mastership, but they all concurred, in order to limit

all civilised countries with those artistic luxuries in the produc-

390

THE NINETEENTH CENTU12 Y

who floekenl 10 Versailles.

3 larch

()ne—fourth. certainly one-fifth,“ of

the soil of France had gradually passed into the hamle 0f the peasants, who. however, profited little from the acquisi tion. as they

were ruined by the tru'lle.

Now What means of redress had the French people. and who were the ailvoeates they had to plead their cause? l“):1:1>iN.\NI) Rm‘nst'an.

(Tu I30 conch/Jul.)

-" Lecky'> Ilixz‘m'g/ (5f Ifngluml in f/H‘ /;'."{;/z[/'t'/z[7l ('L‘llfI/I'j/Z

390

THE NINETEENTH CENTU12 Y

who floekenl 10 Versailles.

3 larch

()ne—fourth. certainly one-fifth,“ of

the soil of France had gradually passed into the hamle 0f the peasants, who. however, profited little from the acquisi tion. as they

were ruined by the tru'lle.

Now What means of redress had the French people. and who were the ailvoeates they had to plead their cause? l“):1:1>iN.\NI) Rm‘nst'an.

(Tu I30 conch/Jul.)

-" Lecky'> Ilixz‘m'g/ (5f Ifngluml in f/H‘ /;'."{;/z[/'t'/z[7l ('L‘llfI/I'j/Z

CA USES OF THE. FRENCH REVOL UTION

1893 652

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

653

April

THE FINANCIAL CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOL UTIOIV

Parlement had been overshadowed by the commanding personality of the King. In the first portion of it their opposition was stayed by his appeals to their patriotism on behalf of the great undertakmgs which were raising France to the foremost position amongst the civilised nations of the world, and during the latter period by the fact that the country was imperilled by invasion, and that sacrifices were demanded to save it from ruin. When peace had been concluded, however, and security restored, the people were able to concentrate their attention on the internal affairs of the country. They then began to see that the feudal caste had lost its power though its vexatious privileges remained, that the sole executive was vested in

the King, who abused his authority, and thenceforward that spirit [Conclusion]

II

IN the early days of the Monarchy, Parlements had been instituted in France to frame domestic laws, dispense public justice, and carry out the decrees of the Crown. They were high courts of justice magisterial bodies whose members acquired their offices by purchase on the nomination of the Crown. In ancient times, in order to obtain for their arbitrary rule an appearance of popular sanction, and

of opposition which had lain dormant both among the middle and lower classes began to revive.

The first serious conflict between the Parlements and the King

arose upon a religious question, a conflict at which it is necessary to glance, as it stirred up public feeling and tended to bring into prominence the financial questions of the time. In 1713, two years before the death of Louis the Fourteenth, the famous Bull ‘Uni—

before they could come into operation, by being, in the language of the day, ‘registered’ by them. But though they were sub—

genitus’ was promulgated by the Pope, at the instigation of the Jesuits. That the King was merely actuated by obedience to the Pope in supporting the abuse of the ecclesiastical power involved in this Bull may be open to doubt; it is far more likely that he wished to conciliate the clergy, who might be expected in return to support him in his despotic proceedings. The Parlements rose'at once against this attempted encroachment of Rome on the crvrl

ordinate to the royal authority and had no political power, the

authority, and the Jansenist

in the confident expectation that the magistrates would at all times obey the royal commands with unquestioning docility, the kings had enacted that their decrees must receive the assent of the Parlements

Parlements, that of Paris especially, soon evinced a spirit of

people.

cause was eagerly espoused by. the

It would be well-nigh impossible to describe the enthusrasm

with which the inhabitants of Paris entered into this conflict.

Con-

independence and opposition to the Government of the day which

has always been a feature of the French character. They refused to register the financial decrees of the King when these bore too heavily on the nation, a refusal which took the form of a ‘ remonstrance.’

temporary writers state that the whole town upheld the Jansenist doctrine. without comprehending its real meaning, merely because Rome, the Jesuits, and Versailles symbolised in their eyes ultramontane, clerical, and monarchical despotism. ‘ The nation is above

As a rule, however, these remonstrances were ineffectual,

as the King could overhear them by summoning a Lit dc Justice, where he appeared personally amongst the magistrates and compelled

them by word of mouth to register his din. _ s. T““.“gh the King maintained his authority, the remonstrances addressed to him by the Parlements eventually brought home to the minds of the people a sense of the grievances under which they laboured, while his indiffer— ence to their sufferings provoked their anger and distrust. On this account the Parlements acquired great popular influence, an influence justified by their public conduct, and increased by the fact that, as their appointments were often made hereditary by purchase, many families were enabled to hand down from one generation to another the worthiest traditions in connection with parlementary offices.

During the reign of Louis the Fourteenth the influence of the

the King, as the King is above the Pope,’ was the motto inscribed on the Jansenist flag. The wider Jansenism spread, the more the Court contemned the sudden growth of public opinion : it stigmatised the Jansenists as ‘ factionists ’——a term which in 1750 was changed

for the first time into ‘republicans.’

The moral support the Parlements received from the people in

resisting these infringements of their legal authority emboldened them to oppose with more vigour than perhaps they might otherwise have shown, the proposals for fresh or excessive taxation brought forward by the Crown.

Such proposals were met by them with

repeated remonstrances, and struggles on financial and theological grounds continued throughout the whole reign of Louis the Fifteenth.

As far as the efforts of the Parlements to resist ecclesiastical abuses

CA USES OF THE. FRENCH REVOL UTION

1893 652

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

653

April

THE FINANCIAL CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOL UTIOIV

Parlement had been overshadowed by the commanding personality of the King. In the first portion of it their opposition was stayed by his appeals to their patriotism on behalf of the great undertakmgs which were raising France to the foremost position amongst the civilised nations of the world, and during the latter period by the fact that the country was imperilled by invasion, and that sacrifices were demanded to save it from ruin. When peace had been concluded, however, and security restored, the people were able to concentrate their attention on the internal affairs of the country. They then began to see that the feudal caste had lost its power though its vexatious privileges remained, that the sole executive was vested in

the King, who abused his authority, and thenceforward that spirit [Conclusion]

II

IN the early days of the Monarchy, Parlements had been instituted in France to frame domestic laws, dispense public justice, and carry out the decrees of the Crown. They were high courts of justice magisterial bodies whose members acquired their offices by purchase on the nomination of the Crown. In ancient times, in order to obtain for their arbitrary rule an appearance of popular sanction, and

of opposition which had lain dormant both among the middle and lower classes began to revive.

The first serious conflict between the Parlements and the King

arose upon a religious question, a conflict at which it is necessary to glance, as it stirred up public feeling and tended to bring into prominence the financial questions of the time. In 1713, two years before the death of Louis the Fourteenth, the famous Bull ‘Uni—

before they could come into operation, by being, in the language of the day, ‘registered’ by them. But though they were sub—

genitus’ was promulgated by the Pope, at the instigation of the Jesuits. That the King was merely actuated by obedience to the Pope in supporting the abuse of the ecclesiastical power involved in this Bull may be open to doubt; it is far more likely that he wished to conciliate the clergy, who might be expected in return to support him in his despotic proceedings. The Parlements rose'at once against this attempted encroachment of Rome on the crvrl

ordinate to the royal authority and had no political power, the

authority, and the Jansenist

in the confident expectation that the magistrates would at all times obey the royal commands with unquestioning docility, the kings had enacted that their decrees must receive the assent of the Parlements

Parlements, that of Paris especially, soon evinced a spirit of

people.

cause was eagerly espoused by. the

It would be well-nigh impossible to describe the enthusrasm

with which the inhabitants of Paris entered into this conflict.

Con-

independence and opposition to the Government of the day which

has always been a feature of the French character. They refused to register the financial decrees of the King when these bore too heavily on the nation, a refusal which took the form of a ‘ remonstrance.’

temporary writers state that the whole town upheld the Jansenist doctrine. without comprehending its real meaning, merely because Rome, the Jesuits, and Versailles symbolised in their eyes ultramontane, clerical, and monarchical despotism. ‘ The nation is above

As a rule, however, these remonstrances were ineffectual,

as the King could overhear them by summoning a Lit dc Justice, where he appeared personally amongst the magistrates and compelled

them by word of mouth to register his din. _ s. T““.“gh the King maintained his authority, the remonstrances addressed to him by the Parlements eventually brought home to the minds of the people a sense of the grievances under which they laboured, while his indiffer— ence to their sufferings provoked their anger and distrust. On this account the Parlements acquired great popular influence, an influence justified by their public conduct, and increased by the fact that, as their appointments were often made hereditary by purchase, many families were enabled to hand down from one generation to another the worthiest traditions in connection with parlementary offices.

During the reign of Louis the Fourteenth the influence of the

the King, as the King is above the Pope,’ was the motto inscribed on the Jansenist flag. The wider Jansenism spread, the more the Court contemned the sudden growth of public opinion : it stigmatised the Jansenists as ‘ factionists ’——a term which in 1750 was changed

for the first time into ‘republicans.’

The moral support the Parlements received from the people in

resisting these infringements of their legal authority emboldened them to oppose with more vigour than perhaps they might otherwise have shown, the proposals for fresh or excessive taxation brought forward by the Crown.

Such proposals were met by them with

repeated remonstrances, and struggles on financial and theological grounds continued throughout the whole reign of Louis the Fifteenth.

As far as the efforts of the Parlements to resist ecclesiastical abuses

654

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

were concerned, the struggle was carried on with alternate success by

both sides. At times the clergy suffered, some priests being condemned to perpetual banishment, or, if they failed to surrender to the Court, they were condemned to the galleys ; at others the Parlements had to give way, and occasionally the magistrates were even arrested and exiled. In 1773, at one of these crises, the 380 members of the

..; -as’!" ——~.- ..

Parlement of Paris sent in their resignation in a body, and as they left the court, amid the plaudits of the crowd which had gathered in the streets, they were hailed as ‘these true Romans and fathers of the country.’ Victory may be said, however, to have rested finally With the Parlements, as in 1762 the Jesuits were banished from France.

But though the King thus, in a sense, gave way in the clerical contest,

he did so chiefly in order to have a freer hand in the financial one, which was of more immediate moment to him, as, in face of the

growing public opinion which had supported the Parlements, he found himself unable to deal with the financial situation unless be either obtained or compelled the assistance of these bodies. It would be tedious to enumerate the many occasions upon which the remon— strances gave rise to serious conflicts between the Parlements and

the Cour des Aides and the Crown. Being freed from the Jansenist trouble, the struggle ended as it only could end under an absolute. monarchy. In 1763 the King prohibited all remonstrances, and, at the same time, peremptorily called upon the I’arlement to register

CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

655

royal prerogative was being enlarged and should be curtailed, and that no decree relating to taxation could be legally enforced without the flat of the Parlements; but, nevertheless, in the teeth of these

declarations, the King compelled the carrying out of the financial measures he had ordered.

Finally, in 1771, matters had arrived at

such a pass that the King executed a coup d’élat. The magistrates of the Parlement of Paris were arrested like malefactors at dead of night, dispossessed of their offices, and another tribunal established in its place. The magistrates, who carried with them into their exile the admiration of the people, were not restored to their oflflces until after the accession of Louis the Sixteenth.

The Parlements undeniably deserve great credit for their resist— ance to the financial impositions of the Crown, but the value of

their services cannot fail to be depreciated in our estimation by the knowledge that they never seemed to think of, much less advocate, the one measure of reform which could have had any enduring effect in placing the fiscal affairs of the country on a sound basis—the equalisation of taxation. The incumbent-y of high parlenientary office carried with it a patent of nobility and a consequent exemption from

taxation, and the magistrates in the enjoyment of this exemption had neither the public spirit nor the wisdom to assume any share of the burthen of taxation. Had they done so at that time, when the Revolu—

printing, selling, or hawking of any plans, works, or writings con—

tion was still unthought of, and when the spirit of opposition, though active, displayed no tendency to violence, much of the trouble that ensued would probably have been averted, as it, would have been difficult, if not impossible, for the rest of the privileged orders to refuse to follow their example. The Parlements were indeed mainly responsible for the delay of effective financial reform, and for the inadequacy of that reform when it eventually came. For this reason

cerning the reform of the administration of the finances was hence-

the results of their action were as ephemeral as was their popularity,

forth prohibited.

Their remon-

as in the increasing gravity of the situation the services they had rendered were forgotten, and the victory the King had gained over

strances were gradually being extended to every subject and every

them had the effect of temporarily establishing his autocratic powers

department of the State, and constituted a serious obstacle. to the

more firmly than before. But the importance of these conflicts in another aspect cannot be too strongly enforced, because they led directly to the formation of public opinion, focussed the attention of

his decrees without delay.

further.

In the following year he went a step

The. Parlements had been invited to lay before him pro-

posals for financial reform, but before they could comply another ‘invitation’ was addressed to them to abstain from submitting any

such proposals, which was supplemented by a declaration that the

The advisers of the Crown were becoming alarmed

at the position which the Parlements were assuming.

royal authority, and to the powers which the sovereign had wielded from time immemorial.

Louis the Fifteenth, thoroughly alive to the

value of his prerogatives, readily listened to these. suggestions, and in

the people on the maladministration of the finances, and created the

1776 admonished the refractory magistrates in the following dignified,

conviction that a radical rearrangement of fiscal burdens was a vital

if autocratic, strain: ‘It is in my person alone,’ said he, ‘that the sovereign power resides: it is from me alone that the courts derive their existence and authority; it is to me alone that the legislative

necessity. The controversies between the King and the I’arlements formed the theme of discussion in countless pamphlets, which, both in point of numbers and virulence, resembled the political publica—

power belongs without any division; and the whole public order emanates from me.’ In pursuance of the doctrine of royal supremacy

tions that marked the earlier portion of the English eighteenth century. These publications were prohibited by the authorities,

here laid down, the King ceased to notice the remonstrances which

but their issue went on practically unchecked. In material they were, as a rule, poor, but they diffused a knowledge of the abuses of the fiscal system among the people, as they all insisted that the

the Parlements and the Cour des Aides were perpetually addressing to him. These bodies now took higher ground, insisted that the .,..

1893

654

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

were concerned, the struggle was carried on with alternate success by

both sides. At times the clergy suffered, some priests being condemned to perpetual banishment, or, if they failed to surrender to the Court, they were condemned to the galleys ; at others the Parlements had to give way, and occasionally the magistrates were even arrested and exiled. In 1773, at one of these crises, the 380 members of the

..; -as’!" ——~.- ..

Parlement of Paris sent in their resignation in a body, and as they left the court, amid the plaudits of the crowd which had gathered in the streets, they were hailed as ‘these true Romans and fathers of the country.’ Victory may be said, however, to have rested finally With the Parlements, as in 1762 the Jesuits were banished from France.

But though the King thus, in a sense, gave way in the clerical contest,

he did so chiefly in order to have a freer hand in the financial one, which was of more immediate moment to him, as, in face of the

growing public opinion which had supported the Parlements, he found himself unable to deal with the financial situation unless be either obtained or compelled the assistance of these bodies. It would be tedious to enumerate the many occasions upon which the remon— strances gave rise to serious conflicts between the Parlements and

the Cour des Aides and the Crown. Being freed from the Jansenist trouble, the struggle ended as it only could end under an absolute. monarchy. In 1763 the King prohibited all remonstrances, and, at the same time, peremptorily called upon the I’arlement to register

CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

655

royal prerogative was being enlarged and should be curtailed, and that no decree relating to taxation could be legally enforced without the flat of the Parlements; but, nevertheless, in the teeth of these

declarations, the King compelled the carrying out of the financial measures he had ordered.

Finally, in 1771, matters had arrived at

such a pass that the King executed a coup d’élat. The magistrates of the Parlement of Paris were arrested like malefactors at dead of night, dispossessed of their offices, and another tribunal established in its place. The magistrates, who carried with them into their exile the admiration of the people, were not restored to their oflflces until after the accession of Louis the Sixteenth.

The Parlements undeniably deserve great credit for their resist— ance to the financial impositions of the Crown, but the value of

their services cannot fail to be depreciated in our estimation by the knowledge that they never seemed to think of, much less advocate, the one measure of reform which could have had any enduring effect in placing the fiscal affairs of the country on a sound basis—the equalisation of taxation. The incumbent-y of high parlenientary office carried with it a patent of nobility and a consequent exemption from

taxation, and the magistrates in the enjoyment of this exemption had neither the public spirit nor the wisdom to assume any share of the burthen of taxation. Had they done so at that time, when the Revolu—

printing, selling, or hawking of any plans, works, or writings con—

tion was still unthought of, and when the spirit of opposition, though active, displayed no tendency to violence, much of the trouble that ensued would probably have been averted, as it, would have been difficult, if not impossible, for the rest of the privileged orders to refuse to follow their example. The Parlements were indeed mainly responsible for the delay of effective financial reform, and for the inadequacy of that reform when it eventually came. For this reason

cerning the reform of the administration of the finances was hence-

the results of their action were as ephemeral as was their popularity,

forth prohibited.

Their remon-

as in the increasing gravity of the situation the services they had rendered were forgotten, and the victory the King had gained over

strances were gradually being extended to every subject and every

them had the effect of temporarily establishing his autocratic powers

department of the State, and constituted a serious obstacle. to the

more firmly than before. But the importance of these conflicts in another aspect cannot be too strongly enforced, because they led directly to the formation of public opinion, focussed the attention of

his decrees without delay.

further.

In the following year he went a step

The. Parlements had been invited to lay before him pro-

posals for financial reform, but before they could comply another ‘invitation’ was addressed to them to abstain from submitting any

such proposals, which was supplemented by a declaration that the

The advisers of the Crown were becoming alarmed

at the position which the Parlements were assuming.

royal authority, and to the powers which the sovereign had wielded from time immemorial.

Louis the Fifteenth, thoroughly alive to the

value of his prerogatives, readily listened to these. suggestions, and in

the people on the maladministration of the finances, and created the

1776 admonished the refractory magistrates in the following dignified,

conviction that a radical rearrangement of fiscal burdens was a vital

if autocratic, strain: ‘It is in my person alone,’ said he, ‘that the sovereign power resides: it is from me alone that the courts derive their existence and authority; it is to me alone that the legislative

necessity. The controversies between the King and the I’arlements formed the theme of discussion in countless pamphlets, which, both in point of numbers and virulence, resembled the political publica—

power belongs without any division; and the whole public order emanates from me.’ In pursuance of the doctrine of royal supremacy

tions that marked the earlier portion of the English eighteenth century. These publications were prohibited by the authorities,

here laid down, the King ceased to notice the remonstrances which

but their issue went on practically unchecked. In material they were, as a rule, poor, but they diffused a knowledge of the abuses of the fiscal system among the people, as they all insisted that the

the Parlements and the Cour des Aides were perpetually addressing to him. These bodies now took higher ground, insisted that the .,..

1893

yes;— Ef- . i

656

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

657

taxes were exorbitant and unfairly assessed, that they crippled agri-

the. privileged orders, at any rate, in fiscal matters.

culture, and imperatively needed readjustment.

deluge of pamphlets, and even of works of enduring value and excel— lence, served to strengthen the force of public opinion by exposing

It was an ominous

condition of things, as a spirit of scepticism, that had already been aroused by the Jansenist agitation, was going far to under-

i 1,

11893

mine the stability of existing institutions and the power and prestige of the Crown. All competent observers regarded the outlook with profound anxiety, and foresaw the dangers that must follow upon the arbitrary proceedings of the King. Voltaire, writing in 1764, said: ‘ Everything that I see is sowing the seed of a revolution which must inevitably come, but which I shall not have the pleasure of witnessing. Frenchmen are slow in arriving at an object, but they arrive at it in the long run. Light has become so abundant that an explosion will take place at the first opportunity, and then we shall have a fine uproar. Young men should feel very happy, as they are destined to see great things.’

Four years later, Grimm

wrote: ‘ The disquiet which agitates the minds of men and leads them to attack religious and political abuses is a characteristic phe— nomenon of the century, and foreshadows an imminent and inevitable revolution.’ These prophecies were supplemented by Madame Campan, who refers in her memoirs to ‘the habit which the cultured classes have assumed of discussing the institutions of the State, which are fast falling into ruin, so that the century cannot close without some

great revolution in France.’

Though the

and attacking the iniquities of his rule, Louis the Fifteenth, until death closed his ears to the grievances of his oppressed subjects, maintained his absolutisrn unimpaired.

\Vithout any desire to

exculpate him from the obloquy he so justly deserves, it must he confessed that the system of public finance then prevailing in France offered him every opportunity and even inducement for in— dulging a reckless extravagance. Strict secrecy was observed as to the financial transactions of the State, and the national accounts were so loosely kept that they constituted no check whatever on his personal expenditure. In fact, the whole fiscal system of the time

would have been sufficient to perplex the subtlest and acutest of our Chancellors of the Exchequer, and it was far more than the controllers-general could be expected to cope with. In the first place, there was a huge deficit, which was annually accumulating a deficit to which the disastrous Seven Years’ War contributed not a little and there was no available means of diminishing it, though the liabilities it produced could not be evaded. National loans, as they are understood at present, were then unknown, and even if they had been known, it is very questionable whether

Though they were both aiming at a

the bulk of the population could have taken them up; and had

common object, there was no joint action between the philosophers

they taken them up, it is still more questionable whether the

and the Parlements, as some of the former——Voltaire especially— upheld the absolute power of the Crown; but at the same time their teachings tended to bring the Tiers Etat into prominence, enabling them to assume for the first time a position of great influence to which their intellectual culture and wealth entitled them. Among the men of letters, the school of economists or physiocrates devoted themselves particularly to showing the necessity for financial reforms.

They advocated the abolition of all pecuniary privileges, and paved the way for Turgot and Necker, who, however, but partially attempted

exchequer could have paid the interest on them. In Russia, it is true, in the second part of the eighteenth century, the Empress

to carry out the proposals of the physiocrates, Whose schemes were

Catherine, by issuing paper money, maintained the splendour of her Court, as well as a constant warfare, with a depleted exchequer.

On arriving here (says the Comte de Ségur, in 1786, writing from St. Peters.burg), one must give up all the notions one has of the financial operations of other countries. In other European States the sovereign can compel the obedience of his subjects, but not their opinions. IIere even public opinion also is subservient to the, sovereign. The mass of bank-notes, the certainty that they cannot be reimbursed, the debasement of the coinage, which deprives it of half its value—in one Word, everything that in other States would lead to bankruptcy and the most disastrous revo-

only realised by the Revolution. Though the physiocrates adhered to lution, fails to impair confidence in the slightest degree; and I am convinced that

many time—worn fallacies, they also preached many truths, and none of

their doctrines struck the mind of the public more forcibly than that a prosperous state of agriculture was essential to the prosperity of the State. But, however good their intentions may have been, the economists failed, as the Parlements had failed, to indicate the only reform

which could render a sound financial administration possible—the equal distribution of the burthens of taxation. Enlightened as they were, and considerable as was the work they accomplished in preparing the minds of the people for the advent of a drastic change, the bane of the French eighteenth century was upon them; they were dominated by the spirit of caste, and by the belief in the rights of

were the Empress so to will it her subjects would accept leather instead of gold.

In 1786 public opinion in France had freely developed and ripened; but during the first portion of the reign of Louis the Fifteenth it was only in the bud. Moreover, the Russia of the eighteenth century and the France of that period were very different, and the ignorant and loyal subjects of Catherine were evidently quite content to accept the paper on which was stamped her

counterfeit presentment as readily as if it were gold. But the French were far too independent and sagacious to confide blindly in the credit of the Government and accept a wholesale issue of VOL. XXXIII—No. 194 X X

yes;— Ef- . i

656

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

657

taxes were exorbitant and unfairly assessed, that they crippled agri-

the. privileged orders, at any rate, in fiscal matters.

culture, and imperatively needed readjustment.

deluge of pamphlets, and even of works of enduring value and excel— lence, served to strengthen the force of public opinion by exposing

It was an ominous

condition of things, as a spirit of scepticism, that had already been aroused by the Jansenist agitation, was going far to under-

i 1,

11893

mine the stability of existing institutions and the power and prestige of the Crown. All competent observers regarded the outlook with profound anxiety, and foresaw the dangers that must follow upon the arbitrary proceedings of the King. Voltaire, writing in 1764, said: ‘ Everything that I see is sowing the seed of a revolution which must inevitably come, but which I shall not have the pleasure of witnessing. Frenchmen are slow in arriving at an object, but they arrive at it in the long run. Light has become so abundant that an explosion will take place at the first opportunity, and then we shall have a fine uproar. Young men should feel very happy, as they are destined to see great things.’

Four years later, Grimm

wrote: ‘ The disquiet which agitates the minds of men and leads them to attack religious and political abuses is a characteristic phe— nomenon of the century, and foreshadows an imminent and inevitable revolution.’ These prophecies were supplemented by Madame Campan, who refers in her memoirs to ‘the habit which the cultured classes have assumed of discussing the institutions of the State, which are fast falling into ruin, so that the century cannot close without some

great revolution in France.’

Though the

and attacking the iniquities of his rule, Louis the Fifteenth, until death closed his ears to the grievances of his oppressed subjects, maintained his absolutisrn unimpaired.

\Vithout any desire to

exculpate him from the obloquy he so justly deserves, it must he confessed that the system of public finance then prevailing in France offered him every opportunity and even inducement for in— dulging a reckless extravagance. Strict secrecy was observed as to the financial transactions of the State, and the national accounts were so loosely kept that they constituted no check whatever on his personal expenditure. In fact, the whole fiscal system of the time

would have been sufficient to perplex the subtlest and acutest of our Chancellors of the Exchequer, and it was far more than the controllers-general could be expected to cope with. In the first place, there was a huge deficit, which was annually accumulating a deficit to which the disastrous Seven Years’ War contributed not a little and there was no available means of diminishing it, though the liabilities it produced could not be evaded. National loans, as they are understood at present, were then unknown, and even if they had been known, it is very questionable whether

Though they were both aiming at a

the bulk of the population could have taken them up; and had

common object, there was no joint action between the philosophers

they taken them up, it is still more questionable whether the

and the Parlements, as some of the former——Voltaire especially— upheld the absolute power of the Crown; but at the same time their teachings tended to bring the Tiers Etat into prominence, enabling them to assume for the first time a position of great influence to which their intellectual culture and wealth entitled them. Among the men of letters, the school of economists or physiocrates devoted themselves particularly to showing the necessity for financial reforms.

They advocated the abolition of all pecuniary privileges, and paved the way for Turgot and Necker, who, however, but partially attempted

exchequer could have paid the interest on them. In Russia, it is true, in the second part of the eighteenth century, the Empress

to carry out the proposals of the physiocrates, Whose schemes were

Catherine, by issuing paper money, maintained the splendour of her Court, as well as a constant warfare, with a depleted exchequer.

On arriving here (says the Comte de Ségur, in 1786, writing from St. Peters.burg), one must give up all the notions one has of the financial operations of other countries. In other European States the sovereign can compel the obedience of his subjects, but not their opinions. IIere even public opinion also is subservient to the, sovereign. The mass of bank-notes, the certainty that they cannot be reimbursed, the debasement of the coinage, which deprives it of half its value—in one Word, everything that in other States would lead to bankruptcy and the most disastrous revo-

only realised by the Revolution. Though the physiocrates adhered to lution, fails to impair confidence in the slightest degree; and I am convinced that

many time—worn fallacies, they also preached many truths, and none of

their doctrines struck the mind of the public more forcibly than that a prosperous state of agriculture was essential to the prosperity of the State. But, however good their intentions may have been, the economists failed, as the Parlements had failed, to indicate the only reform

which could render a sound financial administration possible—the equal distribution of the burthens of taxation. Enlightened as they were, and considerable as was the work they accomplished in preparing the minds of the people for the advent of a drastic change, the bane of the French eighteenth century was upon them; they were dominated by the spirit of caste, and by the belief in the rights of

were the Empress so to will it her subjects would accept leather instead of gold.

In 1786 public opinion in France had freely developed and ripened; but during the first portion of the reign of Louis the Fifteenth it was only in the bud. Moreover, the Russia of the eighteenth century and the France of that period were very different, and the ignorant and loyal subjects of Catherine were evidently quite content to accept the paper on which was stamped her

counterfeit presentment as readily as if it were gold. But the French were far too independent and sagacious to confide blindly in the credit of the Government and accept a wholesale issue of VOL. XXXIII—No. 194 X X

' r

658

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

worthless bank—notes in lieu of money. The losses entailed by the financial operations of Law had taught the people to be on their guard. Ready money was essential to the Controller-General to meet his liabilities, and as the royal exchequer was in a chronic state. of emptiness, whilst the need of money was imperative, the. King sought to supplement the proceeds of the taxes by sending olns plate

to the Mint, an example which was followed by the nobility, who

<..fl~‘,_.__&;_

:_ aha—rim... .,_

were ever anxious to demonstrate their loyalty to the Crown.

1893

CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

some tax or taxes for the ensuing year being given as security.

But, as has been already said, the taxes were not necessarily col— lected within the period named for the purpose, so that when the

bills fell due there was no money to take them up, and they had to be renewed sometimes again and again, each fresh renewal of course entailing a fresh commission. Colbert originated this system of forestalling the receipts of the revenue. Thenceforward it developed

In into a regular practice, and the amount so forestalled increased from

this manner countless artistic treasures were lost to posterity.

The financial confusion was aggravated by the entire unpre—

year to year.

paredness of the treasury to meet unforeseen demands which were constantly cropping up, and by the absence of any systematic attempt to make provision for the liabilities of the State. ’lhe onlv object the controllers-general ever had in administering the finances was to tide over the embarrassments of the hour; they lived from hand to mouth, regardless of the ultimate consequences of that policy. Taxes were imposed and collected; extraordinary receipts were realised when they were required; but no prelimi— nary estimate was ever made of the resources of the revenue.

The same uncertainty prevailed with regard to the expendi— ture. The expenditure of the current year was the only guide

800,000,000, and in 1781 to 1,600,000,000.1

followed in estimating that of the ensuing one.

There was no such

thing as the division of the public revenue into financial years ; no

definite period was fixed for carrying out the estimate of each separate budget, and the collection of the taxes often remained in arrear for two or three years. Neither Turgot nor his successors were able to deal with the bewildering condition of the public accounts, which required the summary procedure of the Revolution

to bring about its amendment.

The difficulties the Controller-

General had to contend with were further increased by the ar— rangement under which all the public moneys were paid into the Cours des Comptes, thirteen courts situated in the different provinces and in Paris. These courts were supposed to control

the collection of the taxes, but they were subject to no general supervision, and each kept its accounts after its own fashion. An abstract of these accounts had to be sent periodically to Paris, but the manner in which they were kept was so complicated and

confusing that the superior court could exercise no effectual check upon them, and could obtain no clear evidence of the total amounts

of the receipts and expenditure. not yet been originated.

Moreover, the floating debt had

There was, it is true, a floating debt in

the shape of bills which the Minister drew whenever he had any pressing engagements to meet, and had no available money for

the purpose.

659

But, like all the other finan01al arrangements of the

State, this was carried out in the most haphazard manner. The bills were negotiated with bankers or State contractors, the returns of

Thus we find that in 1770 the sum forestalled was

only 150,000,000 livres, whereas in 1776 it had mounted up to

The manner in which the secret service money was disbursed introduced another element of irregularity into the management of the public accounts, and further conduced to rendering the task of ascertaining the true state of the exchequer practically impossible.

It was deemed expedient to withhold even from the magistrates of the Cours des Comptes a knowledge of the way in which certain sums under this head were allocated, a precaution which was, to a great

extent, unnecessary, as part at least of the secret service money was applied to the ordinary requirements of the State. But this practice afforded the King unlimited opportunities for indulging his

wasteful inclinations, as he could draw any sums he chose from the secret service fund, by merely giving a receipt in the words ‘ I know the. object of this expenditure.’ As the amount of the secret service fund varied at the pleasure of the King, there was no means of ascertaining beforehand what sum would be required for it in any given period. All that the Controller—General knew was that the sum was always enormous, and that it generally exceeded a hundred million livres a year.

The King would have done well had he followed the example of Madame de Pompadour in the matter of keeping his accounts, Whose bookkeeping, at any rate, was of a pattern worthy of imitation.

Prodigal as this well-abused lady was, every sou she received or paid away during the nineteen years of her favour was duly entered in her books. After her death it was found that in that period she had cost France the sum of 36,327,268 livres 12 sous 6 deniers.

The

average revenue of the Crown at that time from all sources was about 370,000,000 livres a year ; so that an approximate idea of the scale on which the King’s munificence was based can be obtained from the money he lavished on the leading favourite.

In considering these sums it is necessary to take into account the alteration in the value of money, brought about by the altered con— ditions of life then and now. Taking, for instance, the incomes of 1 There were various'kinds of livres under the ancient monarchy, and the value of the coin fluctuated, but about the beginning of the eighteenth century it became

equivalent to a franc.

‘ xx2

' r

658

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

worthless bank—notes in lieu of money. The losses entailed by the financial operations of Law had taught the people to be on their guard. Ready money was essential to the Controller-General to meet his liabilities, and as the royal exchequer was in a chronic state. of emptiness, whilst the need of money was imperative, the. King sought to supplement the proceeds of the taxes by sending olns plate

to the Mint, an example which was followed by the nobility, who

<..fl~‘,_.__&;_

:_ aha—rim... .,_

were ever anxious to demonstrate their loyalty to the Crown.

1893

CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

some tax or taxes for the ensuing year being given as security.

But, as has been already said, the taxes were not necessarily col— lected within the period named for the purpose, so that when the

bills fell due there was no money to take them up, and they had to be renewed sometimes again and again, each fresh renewal of course entailing a fresh commission. Colbert originated this system of forestalling the receipts of the revenue. Thenceforward it developed

In into a regular practice, and the amount so forestalled increased from

this manner countless artistic treasures were lost to posterity.

The financial confusion was aggravated by the entire unpre—

year to year.

paredness of the treasury to meet unforeseen demands which were constantly cropping up, and by the absence of any systematic attempt to make provision for the liabilities of the State. ’lhe onlv object the controllers-general ever had in administering the finances was to tide over the embarrassments of the hour; they lived from hand to mouth, regardless of the ultimate consequences of that policy. Taxes were imposed and collected; extraordinary receipts were realised when they were required; but no prelimi— nary estimate was ever made of the resources of the revenue.

The same uncertainty prevailed with regard to the expendi— ture. The expenditure of the current year was the only guide

800,000,000, and in 1781 to 1,600,000,000.1

followed in estimating that of the ensuing one.

There was no such

thing as the division of the public revenue into financial years ; no

definite period was fixed for carrying out the estimate of each separate budget, and the collection of the taxes often remained in arrear for two or three years. Neither Turgot nor his successors were able to deal with the bewildering condition of the public accounts, which required the summary procedure of the Revolution

to bring about its amendment.

The difficulties the Controller-

General had to contend with were further increased by the ar— rangement under which all the public moneys were paid into the Cours des Comptes, thirteen courts situated in the different provinces and in Paris. These courts were supposed to control

the collection of the taxes, but they were subject to no general supervision, and each kept its accounts after its own fashion. An abstract of these accounts had to be sent periodically to Paris, but the manner in which they were kept was so complicated and

confusing that the superior court could exercise no effectual check upon them, and could obtain no clear evidence of the total amounts

of the receipts and expenditure. not yet been originated.

Moreover, the floating debt had

There was, it is true, a floating debt in

the shape of bills which the Minister drew whenever he had any pressing engagements to meet, and had no available money for

the purpose.

659

But, like all the other finan01al arrangements of the

State, this was carried out in the most haphazard manner. The bills were negotiated with bankers or State contractors, the returns of

Thus we find that in 1770 the sum forestalled was

only 150,000,000 livres, whereas in 1776 it had mounted up to

The manner in which the secret service money was disbursed introduced another element of irregularity into the management of the public accounts, and further conduced to rendering the task of ascertaining the true state of the exchequer practically impossible.

It was deemed expedient to withhold even from the magistrates of the Cours des Comptes a knowledge of the way in which certain sums under this head were allocated, a precaution which was, to a great

extent, unnecessary, as part at least of the secret service money was applied to the ordinary requirements of the State. But this practice afforded the King unlimited opportunities for indulging his

wasteful inclinations, as he could draw any sums he chose from the secret service fund, by merely giving a receipt in the words ‘ I know the. object of this expenditure.’ As the amount of the secret service fund varied at the pleasure of the King, there was no means of ascertaining beforehand what sum would be required for it in any given period. All that the Controller—General knew was that the sum was always enormous, and that it generally exceeded a hundred million livres a year.

The King would have done well had he followed the example of Madame de Pompadour in the matter of keeping his accounts, Whose bookkeeping, at any rate, was of a pattern worthy of imitation.

Prodigal as this well-abused lady was, every sou she received or paid away during the nineteen years of her favour was duly entered in her books. After her death it was found that in that period she had cost France the sum of 36,327,268 livres 12 sous 6 deniers.

The

average revenue of the Crown at that time from all sources was about 370,000,000 livres a year ; so that an approximate idea of the scale on which the King’s munificence was based can be obtained from the money he lavished on the leading favourite.

In considering these sums it is necessary to take into account the alteration in the value of money, brought about by the altered con— ditions of life then and now. Taking, for instance, the incomes of 1 There were various'kinds of livres under the ancient monarchy, and the value of the coin fluctuated, but about the beginning of the eighteenth century it became

equivalent to a franc.

‘ xx2

‘_ — .vw-t';

‘:',1-

660

.11 j

April

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

them with prominent professional men in those days, and comparing position same the what we know to be the incomes of men relatively in ion.

now, we can get an idea of the extent of that alterat

Barbier

lawyers of the day, mentions that a M. Norman, one of the best

was then had an income of 50,0002 livres per annum, which may be It n. deemed very considerable for a man in his positio

English interesting to compare with this the professional incomes of they that barristers at the same period, from which we can gather poraries. Sir were much on a par with those of their French contem y, has left a John Cheshire, a leading counsel in the last centur

his appointnote—book showing that for the six years succeeding 3,241l. per of ment as Serjeant his fees amounted to an average the last of annum. The income of a counsel about the middle the feeby ed century who had exceptional advantages is disclos llor Hardwicke,

book of Mr. Charles Yorke, the son of Lord Chance

and afterwards Chancellor himself.

In his first year his practice

A-Av.¢_.

"er-ea

.

only brought him in 121$. ; but it increased so that when

he was ten

years at the Bar his professional income was nearly 2,500l.3 conIn 1769, when the Abbé Terray was Controller-General, the of man a dition of the finances had become desperate. He was much ability, but utterly devoid of character, and wholly

unscrupu—

On the 18th of February of that year, finding it

lous as a Minister.

impossible to stretch the revenue so as to meet the heavy

liabilities

iming

of the State, he issued a decree which was equivalent to procla

' " 5'71","

national bankruptcy.

By this decree he suspended for an indefinite

0,000 period the payment of drafts to the value of about 200,00 the of livres, which had been drawn upon the Receiver-General e revenu Taxes by the Finance Minister, in anticipation of the ruin receipts of the current year, a breach of faith that spread pally to the

among the creditors of the State, who belonged princi

bourgeois class, while it dealt a fatal blow at the financial credit the Government.

of

As late as the time of Necker’s fall, in 1781,

In eighty millions worth of these drafts still remained unpaid. decree a gated promul and , further step a went 1771 the Abbé Terray the reducing the interest on the perpetual annuities purchased from He nth. one—te by ies annuit life the and , State by one-fifteenth that ground the on ion, operat mate legiti a was contended that this e these as the value of the principal of the sums invested to produc nage— misma ceful disgra the —by ished dimin annuities had been the that fair only was s——it finance the of ment and malversation effect in ent argum his tion; propor in d interest should be reduce been debeing that, as the owners of these annuities had already ble that equita only was it al, princip their frauded of a portion of years recent In t. interes of loss e tionat they should suffer a propor ’ About 2,0001.

' Foss’s Judges of England.

1 893

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTI ON

661

we have witnessed, not only in England, but on the Continent as well, conversions of stocks by which the interest has been diminished.

But these conversions only take place when the stock is above par, and the holders of them have no reason to complain, as they have the option of either getting back their money at par or of accepting the new stock at the reduced rate of interest. That Louis the Fifteenth was not unaware of the state of public opinion produced

by Terray‘s act of repudiation may be gathered from the words he used on his deathbed ; but though he then expressed repentance for the scandal his private life had occasioned to his subjects, he added that to God alone did he owe any account of his conduct as a ruler. He may have been conscious of his vices, but he made as little effort to reform them as he did to conciliate public opinion in financial matters, as he might have done by reducing the heaviest item of his expenditure, a reduction which would have been

a more effectual and practical piece of economy than sending his plate to the mint. This item was his household. Any visitor to Versailles may form some estimate of the expense of keeping up an establishment in that vast palace, which, despite the plundering it underwent during the Revolution, is still a monument of national

art, which, though dedicated to all the glories of France, is nevertheless fast falling to decay because of the expense its maintenance would entail. It is almost impossible for us to conceive what Louis the Fourteenth and his successor deemed to be the obligatory household of the King of France, who lived like an Oriental potentate, secluded from the inquisitive and critical eye of the populace of Paris, but who, at the same time, wished to dazzle his subjects, as well as royal visitors from all parts of the world, by the pomp of the throne.

It must be admitted that to have reduced that expenditure and display, evcn could it have been done, would have diminished the prestige of the monarchy. The King was the sole fountain of honour and emolument; every advancement, every favour, depended on him alone. ‘The object of the greatest personages of both sexes,’ says M. Taine, ‘ of laymen and clergymen, the chief object of their lives was to be at every hour of the day under the eyes of the sovereign, and within reach of his voice.’

‘I would prefer dying

to being two months without seeing the King,’ wrote Marshal Richelieu to Madame de Maintenon. Vanity and self-interest continued this tradition under Louis the Fifteenth, and courtiers eighty

years of age were known to have passed forty-five years of their lives waiting in the anterooms of the King, the princes, or the ministers.

It was the aim of the life of noblemen to hold even the humblest Court appointment, and to lodge in the meanest garret of Versailles.

The many sacrifices the nobility had made in the wars, and the ruinous condition of the finances, had so seriously diminished their wealth, that every minister and official looked to the favour and

‘_ — .vw-t';

‘:',1-

660

.11 j

April

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

them with prominent professional men in those days, and comparing position same the what we know to be the incomes of men relatively in ion.

now, we can get an idea of the extent of that alterat

Barbier

lawyers of the day, mentions that a M. Norman, one of the best

was then had an income of 50,0002 livres per annum, which may be It n. deemed very considerable for a man in his positio

English interesting to compare with this the professional incomes of they that barristers at the same period, from which we can gather poraries. Sir were much on a par with those of their French contem y, has left a John Cheshire, a leading counsel in the last centur

his appointnote—book showing that for the six years succeeding 3,241l. per of ment as Serjeant his fees amounted to an average the last of annum. The income of a counsel about the middle the feeby ed century who had exceptional advantages is disclos llor Hardwicke,

book of Mr. Charles Yorke, the son of Lord Chance

and afterwards Chancellor himself.

In his first year his practice

A-Av.¢_.

"er-ea

.

only brought him in 121$. ; but it increased so that when

he was ten

years at the Bar his professional income was nearly 2,500l.3 conIn 1769, when the Abbé Terray was Controller-General, the of man a dition of the finances had become desperate. He was much ability, but utterly devoid of character, and wholly

unscrupu—

On the 18th of February of that year, finding it

lous as a Minister.

impossible to stretch the revenue so as to meet the heavy

liabilities

iming

of the State, he issued a decree which was equivalent to procla

' " 5'71","

national bankruptcy.

By this decree he suspended for an indefinite

0,000 period the payment of drafts to the value of about 200,00 the of livres, which had been drawn upon the Receiver-General e revenu Taxes by the Finance Minister, in anticipation of the ruin receipts of the current year, a breach of faith that spread pally to the

among the creditors of the State, who belonged princi

bourgeois class, while it dealt a fatal blow at the financial credit the Government.

of

As late as the time of Necker’s fall, in 1781,

In eighty millions worth of these drafts still remained unpaid. decree a gated promul and , further step a went 1771 the Abbé Terray the reducing the interest on the perpetual annuities purchased from He nth. one—te by ies annuit life the and , State by one-fifteenth that ground the on ion, operat mate legiti a was contended that this e these as the value of the principal of the sums invested to produc nage— misma ceful disgra the —by ished dimin annuities had been the that fair only was s——it finance the of ment and malversation effect in ent argum his tion; propor in d interest should be reduce been debeing that, as the owners of these annuities had already ble that equita only was it al, princip their frauded of a portion of years recent In t. interes of loss e tionat they should suffer a propor ’ About 2,0001.

' Foss’s Judges of England.

1 893

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTI ON

661

we have witnessed, not only in England, but on the Continent as well, conversions of stocks by which the interest has been diminished.

But these conversions only take place when the stock is above par, and the holders of them have no reason to complain, as they have the option of either getting back their money at par or of accepting the new stock at the reduced rate of interest. That Louis the Fifteenth was not unaware of the state of public opinion produced

by Terray‘s act of repudiation may be gathered from the words he used on his deathbed ; but though he then expressed repentance for the scandal his private life had occasioned to his subjects, he added that to God alone did he owe any account of his conduct as a ruler. He may have been conscious of his vices, but he made as little effort to reform them as he did to conciliate public opinion in financial matters, as he might have done by reducing the heaviest item of his expenditure, a reduction which would have been

a more effectual and practical piece of economy than sending his plate to the mint. This item was his household. Any visitor to Versailles may form some estimate of the expense of keeping up an establishment in that vast palace, which, despite the plundering it underwent during the Revolution, is still a monument of national

art, which, though dedicated to all the glories of France, is nevertheless fast falling to decay because of the expense its maintenance would entail. It is almost impossible for us to conceive what Louis the Fourteenth and his successor deemed to be the obligatory household of the King of France, who lived like an Oriental potentate, secluded from the inquisitive and critical eye of the populace of Paris, but who, at the same time, wished to dazzle his subjects, as well as royal visitors from all parts of the world, by the pomp of the throne.

It must be admitted that to have reduced that expenditure and display, evcn could it have been done, would have diminished the prestige of the monarchy. The King was the sole fountain of honour and emolument; every advancement, every favour, depended on him alone. ‘The object of the greatest personages of both sexes,’ says M. Taine, ‘ of laymen and clergymen, the chief object of their lives was to be at every hour of the day under the eyes of the sovereign, and within reach of his voice.’

‘I would prefer dying

to being two months without seeing the King,’ wrote Marshal Richelieu to Madame de Maintenon. Vanity and self-interest continued this tradition under Louis the Fifteenth, and courtiers eighty

years of age were known to have passed forty-five years of their lives waiting in the anterooms of the King, the princes, or the ministers.

It was the aim of the life of noblemen to hold even the humblest Court appointment, and to lodge in the meanest garret of Versailles.

The many sacrifices the nobility had made in the wars, and the ruinous condition of the finances, had so seriously diminished their wealth, that every minister and official looked to the favour and

662

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

bounty of the King for his advancement. In those days, civil and military service were not rendered to the country, but to the King, on whom all public ofiicials were dependent for their livelihood. But he, in his turn, depended upon them for their services, and he could

not have freed himself from the bonds in which he was thus held without endangering the safety of the Crown. The result of this mutual dependence on each other was that the Crown and its re-

sources were being strangled in the tentacles of a vast octopus, from which heroic measures alone could have liberated them. The costly pomp which Louis the Fourteenth had instituted was continued by

Louis the Fifteenth, oblivious of the progress of time and civilisation, and unmindful that the glamour that it was sought to preserve around the throne meant the ruin of the people.

Of the magnitude splendour and cost of that royal establishment we can form a notion from the fact that the population of Paris at that. time was only 600,000, whereas the household consisted of 6,000 persons, with stables containing 2,000 horses, and 300 chariots; three distinct hunting and six sporting establishments, together with an army of 1,500 lackeys, whose liveries alone cost 540,000 livres a year.

There were seventy—five officers connected with the King’s chapel alone, and forty-eight physicians, surgeons, apothecaries, attached to

his person.

D’Argenson, writing in 1751, says : ‘ It is asserted that

there are 4,000 horses in the King’s household, and that this year alone his single person cost 68,000,000 livres, or one—quarter of the public

‘ "Sl‘esfluére‘k - 1 3

revenue.’

As late as 1780, 383 men and 133 boys were employed for

1 893

_ 0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

663

household reforms were counterbalanced by the costliness of the Court favourites.

Madame de I’olignac, for instance, received on the

same day 400,000 livres to pay her debts, and a marriage portion for her daughter of 800,000 livres.

But the household was not the only item in the expenditure of the King that drained the public purse. Perhaps one of the most indefensible ofthe many financial abuses of the eighteenth century was the pension list, which even Louis the Sixteenth, economical and ever ready as he was to act upon the advice of his ministers, was unable to restrict. These pensions nominally awarded out of the privy purse. for public services were in reality given indiscriminately to private favourites and unworthy persons. That every minister on his resig— nation should receive a pension of 50,000 livres was justifiable, as well, perhaps, as that his widow should receive 30,000 livres, but that each of his daughters should get from 4,000 to 10,000 livres a year made the system a scandal. In the same way other high dignitaries of State,

and even in the higher magisterial offices, obtained hereditary pen—

sions; an example of which is afforded by the case of a Mdlle. de Maulde, who, as late as 1790, secured a pension of 1,000 livres, when only fourteen years of age. There was Madame du Defi‘and, the friend and correspondent of Horace \Valpole, who, in 1763, got a pension of 6,000 livres from the King because—to use her own words—her aunt, the Duchesse de Luynes, had been a friend of Marie Leczinska.

Numerous examples of the same kind might be quoted.

Madame

the King’s table, which cost 2,177,771 livres, together with 390,000 livres for those of the King’s aunts, and 1,000,000 for his sisters—in— law, bringing the total charge for the royal tables alone up to 3,660,941

de Laniballe was granted a pension of 410,000 livres, and Madame d’Andlau, aunt of Madame de I’olignac, obtained a pension of 6,000 livres, though she had been exiled from Court for a grave dereliction of duty. Later on, when the secrets of the administration were disclosed

livres per annum. At the death of Louis the Fifteenth the annual ex— penditure of the King amounted to one-twelfth of the whole revenue of

by the Revolution, it was found that the family of I’olignac received pensions, the greater part hereditary, amounting to 700,000 livres a

the State; and if we take into account the households of the various

year ; and that gifts to the value of about 2,000,000 livres were

members of the royal family which were supported by the State, as

given to the Noailles family alone. In 177—1 the Abbe Vermont wrote to Maria Theresa that ‘ by an immemorial custom of the French Court, three-fourths of the places of honour and pensions

well as the cost of the nine or ten thousand household troops, the outlay under this head amounted to one-eighth of the entire revenue.

Louis the Sixteenth effected various reforms in the household, but with the result that the Court dignitaries,whose pockets sufiferedpin con—

sequence, revenged themselves by making fun of the King’s parsimony and turning him into ridicule. Nevertheless, Turgot’s retrenchments amounted to 5,000,000 livres, an attempt at economy which contri— buted to bring about his disgrace. ‘ You are in too great a hurry,’ said Malesherbes to him ; ‘ why do you want to do so much at once ? ’ ‘Because,’ answered Turgot sadly, ‘ you forget that in our family we die of gout at the age of fifty.’ In fact, Turgot died seven years later, at the age of fifty-four.

Necker was more fortunate than

Turgot, but what he saved with one hand he lost with the other.

Court intrigue was too strong for him, and his comparatively trifling

were given not in return for services, but through motives of

favouritism. Such claims were based formerly on birth and connec— tions, but lately they have had no other foundation than in intrigue.’

Even the finance ministers of Louis the Fifteenth appreciated to some extent the absurdity of the pension system, and at one time an effort was made to reduce the then existing pensions. Under this reform the pension awarded to Madame du Deffand was cut down to 4,800

livres, whereupon this lady remonstrated with the minister. The sincerity with which he had entered upon this economy was then shown by his reply, that, although it was true that the old pensions must be reduced, there was no reason why new ones should not be granted, and forthwith Madame du Deffand had her loss made good

662

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

bounty of the King for his advancement. In those days, civil and military service were not rendered to the country, but to the King, on whom all public ofiicials were dependent for their livelihood. But he, in his turn, depended upon them for their services, and he could

not have freed himself from the bonds in which he was thus held without endangering the safety of the Crown. The result of this mutual dependence on each other was that the Crown and its re-

sources were being strangled in the tentacles of a vast octopus, from which heroic measures alone could have liberated them. The costly pomp which Louis the Fourteenth had instituted was continued by

Louis the Fifteenth, oblivious of the progress of time and civilisation, and unmindful that the glamour that it was sought to preserve around the throne meant the ruin of the people.

Of the magnitude splendour and cost of that royal establishment we can form a notion from the fact that the population of Paris at that. time was only 600,000, whereas the household consisted of 6,000 persons, with stables containing 2,000 horses, and 300 chariots; three distinct hunting and six sporting establishments, together with an army of 1,500 lackeys, whose liveries alone cost 540,000 livres a year.

There were seventy—five officers connected with the King’s chapel alone, and forty-eight physicians, surgeons, apothecaries, attached to

his person.

D’Argenson, writing in 1751, says : ‘ It is asserted that

there are 4,000 horses in the King’s household, and that this year alone his single person cost 68,000,000 livres, or one—quarter of the public

‘ "Sl‘esfluére‘k - 1 3

revenue.’

As late as 1780, 383 men and 133 boys were employed for

1 893

_ 0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

663

household reforms were counterbalanced by the costliness of the Court favourites.

Madame de I’olignac, for instance, received on the

same day 400,000 livres to pay her debts, and a marriage portion for her daughter of 800,000 livres.

But the household was not the only item in the expenditure of the King that drained the public purse. Perhaps one of the most indefensible ofthe many financial abuses of the eighteenth century was the pension list, which even Louis the Sixteenth, economical and ever ready as he was to act upon the advice of his ministers, was unable to restrict. These pensions nominally awarded out of the privy purse. for public services were in reality given indiscriminately to private favourites and unworthy persons. That every minister on his resig— nation should receive a pension of 50,000 livres was justifiable, as well, perhaps, as that his widow should receive 30,000 livres, but that each of his daughters should get from 4,000 to 10,000 livres a year made the system a scandal. In the same way other high dignitaries of State,

and even in the higher magisterial offices, obtained hereditary pen—

sions; an example of which is afforded by the case of a Mdlle. de Maulde, who, as late as 1790, secured a pension of 1,000 livres, when only fourteen years of age. There was Madame du Defi‘and, the friend and correspondent of Horace \Valpole, who, in 1763, got a pension of 6,000 livres from the King because—to use her own words—her aunt, the Duchesse de Luynes, had been a friend of Marie Leczinska.

Numerous examples of the same kind might be quoted.

Madame

the King’s table, which cost 2,177,771 livres, together with 390,000 livres for those of the King’s aunts, and 1,000,000 for his sisters—in— law, bringing the total charge for the royal tables alone up to 3,660,941

de Laniballe was granted a pension of 410,000 livres, and Madame d’Andlau, aunt of Madame de I’olignac, obtained a pension of 6,000 livres, though she had been exiled from Court for a grave dereliction of duty. Later on, when the secrets of the administration were disclosed

livres per annum. At the death of Louis the Fifteenth the annual ex— penditure of the King amounted to one-twelfth of the whole revenue of

by the Revolution, it was found that the family of I’olignac received pensions, the greater part hereditary, amounting to 700,000 livres a

the State; and if we take into account the households of the various

year ; and that gifts to the value of about 2,000,000 livres were

members of the royal family which were supported by the State, as

given to the Noailles family alone. In 177—1 the Abbe Vermont wrote to Maria Theresa that ‘ by an immemorial custom of the French Court, three-fourths of the places of honour and pensions

well as the cost of the nine or ten thousand household troops, the outlay under this head amounted to one-eighth of the entire revenue.

Louis the Sixteenth effected various reforms in the household, but with the result that the Court dignitaries,whose pockets sufiferedpin con—

sequence, revenged themselves by making fun of the King’s parsimony and turning him into ridicule. Nevertheless, Turgot’s retrenchments amounted to 5,000,000 livres, an attempt at economy which contri— buted to bring about his disgrace. ‘ You are in too great a hurry,’ said Malesherbes to him ; ‘ why do you want to do so much at once ? ’ ‘Because,’ answered Turgot sadly, ‘ you forget that in our family we die of gout at the age of fifty.’ In fact, Turgot died seven years later, at the age of fifty-four.

Necker was more fortunate than

Turgot, but what he saved with one hand he lost with the other.

Court intrigue was too strong for him, and his comparatively trifling

were given not in return for services, but through motives of

favouritism. Such claims were based formerly on birth and connec— tions, but lately they have had no other foundation than in intrigue.’

Even the finance ministers of Louis the Fifteenth appreciated to some extent the absurdity of the pension system, and at one time an effort was made to reduce the then existing pensions. Under this reform the pension awarded to Madame du Deffand was cut down to 4,800

livres, whereupon this lady remonstrated with the minister. The sincerity with which he had entered upon this economy was then shown by his reply, that, although it was true that the old pensions must be reduced, there was no reason why new ones should not be granted, and forthwith Madame du Deffand had her loss made good

664

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

by the granting to her of a new pension.

April

An idea of the drain these

pensions constituted upon the exchequer can be gathered from the-

following figures. In 1763 the pensions granted by the King amounted to 8,600,000 livres, in 1774 to 10,400,000, in 1776 to 16,500,000,

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

665

Absolute and unquestioned as yet was the authority of the King, he was powerless to effectuate any reform without the co-operation of the privileged classes. It must be remembered that some of the enlightened members of the nobility had become ardent radicals and

reformers, but their vague talk in the salons, Witty as it may have

and in 1781, the year of Necker’s dismissal, to 23,814,988 livres.

Louis the Fifteenth must have been cast in a heroic mould to'

been, their wild declamations in the cafés and clubs, their contribu-

have been able to free himself from this incubus. But he was not a hero, nor was the age in which he lived a heroic age. Still, selfish and

tions to the revolutionary literature, and their participation in the American War of Independence, only weakened the existing institutions without producing any cure for the evils under which the country suffered. Moreover, however laudable may have been the exertions of these members of the ruling caste in the cause of liberty,

indolent as he undoubtedly was, he had sufficient penetration to L.O“W

1 893

perceive the extent to which he was being preyed upon by the vultures of his Court. It is recorded that when driving one day with the Due de Choiseul, he turned to him, and asked, ‘What do

the leading nobles still clung desperately to their vexatious and

support him he would redress the abuses of the royal expenditure.

obsolete rights. Dukes ridiculed the new economy that had come to be practised at Versailles, and dowagers who were offended by Marie Antoinette’s infringement of the old etiquette, and her preference for the society of her friends in the seclusion of the Petit Trianon to the stately pageantry of the old re’gime, became the originators of the calumnious stories which were later on so freely circulated against her. Because their interests were touched by the reforms of Turgot they conspired to bring about his fall, but, with extraordinary inconsistency, when Necker, whose financial

My friend,’ answered the King, ‘the robberies in my house are on a colossal scale; but it is impossible to stop them, as too many

reforms were of a far more serious nature, was dismissed, they ostentatiously made pilgrimages to his country residence as a mark

people, especially too many influential people, are interested in their continuance. My ministers have always begun by attempting to

of their sympathy. This spirit of opposition to the established order of things displayed by these conspicuous personages was only too readily imitated and improved upon by the people at large.

The great problem, however, with which Louis the Sixteenth and his advisers found themselves face to face at the time of his accession, though studiously concealed from the people, was the gigantic deficit in the exchequer.4 The buoyant disposition of the French people caused them to imagine that all the abuses and vices of the old system had sunk into the grave with the late King, and

you think was the cost of the carriage we are sitting in?’

The

Minister, having pondered a minute, replied that he thought he could buy one the same as it. in all respects for from 5,000 to 6,000 livres, but he added that, as the King must pay en mi, and seldom in ready money, it might have cost him 8,000 livres..

‘ You are far from the right figure,’ rejoined the King, ‘ for this carriage cost me

30,000

livres ! ’

(‘hoiseul some days afterwards

reminded the King of this conversation, and said that if he would

introduce something like order into my affairs, but they have been frightened to proceed, and abandoned the task in despair. Cardinal Fleury was powerful; he was master of France; but he died without carrying out any of the plans he had formed. Believe me, it is better not to trouble yourself, and to let ineradicable vices

alone.’

This sketch of the financial condition and administration of France during the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, incomplete as it necessarily is, may still serve to convey an adequate impression ofthe. herculean character of the task with which Louis the Sixteenth found himself confronted. France not being a homogeneous country, but composed of a group of autonomous provinces, with conflicting institutions and interests, the young and inexperienced Prince found the whole system of local administration an impenetrable maze of detail,

and that of the fiscal administration a mass of confusion and disorder.

Sixty years of misgovernment and corruption had shaken the foundations of the throne, and destroyed the public respect for the clergy and nobility, whilst modern civilisation was asserting its influence, and conducing, with other causes, to render a radical change inevit—

able. A system of fiscal wastefulness and maladministration which was endured in the early part of the century was no longer possible.

4 In 1774 the perpetual annuities and rentcs amounted to 90,000,000 livres, representing a capital debt of 1,500,000,000. The gross revenue was then 375,000,000 livres, but the not revenue was only 215,000,000, against which there was an expenditure of 236,000,000 livres, showing a nominal deficit of 21,000,000 livres, but the real deficit Turgot reduced it to 40,000,000 livres. In 1787 in that year was about 50,000,000. the deficit had increased to 112,000,000, and in 1788 to 140,000,000. The revenue had also increased to 472,000,000, and the expenditure to 527,000,000 livres, consequently the deficit was 55,000,000, to which must be added 76,000,000 for bills due and 29,000,000 for extraordinary expenses ; so that the total deficit was 160,000,0001ivres.

In 1789 Neckcr announced a deficit of 56,000,000, but did not mention the sums due for bills, which were then from 75,000,000 to 80,000,0001ivres. In 1789 the interest on the perpetual routes and annuities was 162,000,000, in addition to which a large sum had to be paid on forestalments and various other debts. The capital of the rentes was 2,170,000,000; reimbursements, 585,000,000; forestalments, 270,000,000 ; loans from the Pays d’Etat, and the Caisse d’Escompte, 220,000,000 ; finally, the amounts to be

paid to the holders of offices, 1,200,000,000.

Consequently the total indebtedness of

the State in that year was over 4,500,000,000 livres.

664

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

by the granting to her of a new pension.

April

An idea of the drain these

pensions constituted upon the exchequer can be gathered from the-

following figures. In 1763 the pensions granted by the King amounted to 8,600,000 livres, in 1774 to 10,400,000, in 1776 to 16,500,000,

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

665

Absolute and unquestioned as yet was the authority of the King, he was powerless to effectuate any reform without the co-operation of the privileged classes. It must be remembered that some of the enlightened members of the nobility had become ardent radicals and

reformers, but their vague talk in the salons, Witty as it may have

and in 1781, the year of Necker’s dismissal, to 23,814,988 livres.

Louis the Fifteenth must have been cast in a heroic mould to'

been, their wild declamations in the cafés and clubs, their contribu-

have been able to free himself from this incubus. But he was not a hero, nor was the age in which he lived a heroic age. Still, selfish and

tions to the revolutionary literature, and their participation in the American War of Independence, only weakened the existing institutions without producing any cure for the evils under which the country suffered. Moreover, however laudable may have been the exertions of these members of the ruling caste in the cause of liberty,

indolent as he undoubtedly was, he had sufficient penetration to L.O“W

1 893

perceive the extent to which he was being preyed upon by the vultures of his Court. It is recorded that when driving one day with the Due de Choiseul, he turned to him, and asked, ‘What do

the leading nobles still clung desperately to their vexatious and

support him he would redress the abuses of the royal expenditure.

obsolete rights. Dukes ridiculed the new economy that had come to be practised at Versailles, and dowagers who were offended by Marie Antoinette’s infringement of the old etiquette, and her preference for the society of her friends in the seclusion of the Petit Trianon to the stately pageantry of the old re’gime, became the originators of the calumnious stories which were later on so freely circulated against her. Because their interests were touched by the reforms of Turgot they conspired to bring about his fall, but, with extraordinary inconsistency, when Necker, whose financial

My friend,’ answered the King, ‘the robberies in my house are on a colossal scale; but it is impossible to stop them, as too many

reforms were of a far more serious nature, was dismissed, they ostentatiously made pilgrimages to his country residence as a mark

people, especially too many influential people, are interested in their continuance. My ministers have always begun by attempting to

of their sympathy. This spirit of opposition to the established order of things displayed by these conspicuous personages was only too readily imitated and improved upon by the people at large.

The great problem, however, with which Louis the Sixteenth and his advisers found themselves face to face at the time of his accession, though studiously concealed from the people, was the gigantic deficit in the exchequer.4 The buoyant disposition of the French people caused them to imagine that all the abuses and vices of the old system had sunk into the grave with the late King, and

you think was the cost of the carriage we are sitting in?’

The

Minister, having pondered a minute, replied that he thought he could buy one the same as it. in all respects for from 5,000 to 6,000 livres, but he added that, as the King must pay en mi, and seldom in ready money, it might have cost him 8,000 livres..

‘ You are far from the right figure,’ rejoined the King, ‘ for this carriage cost me

30,000

livres ! ’

(‘hoiseul some days afterwards

reminded the King of this conversation, and said that if he would

introduce something like order into my affairs, but they have been frightened to proceed, and abandoned the task in despair. Cardinal Fleury was powerful; he was master of France; but he died without carrying out any of the plans he had formed. Believe me, it is better not to trouble yourself, and to let ineradicable vices

alone.’

This sketch of the financial condition and administration of France during the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, incomplete as it necessarily is, may still serve to convey an adequate impression ofthe. herculean character of the task with which Louis the Sixteenth found himself confronted. France not being a homogeneous country, but composed of a group of autonomous provinces, with conflicting institutions and interests, the young and inexperienced Prince found the whole system of local administration an impenetrable maze of detail,

and that of the fiscal administration a mass of confusion and disorder.

Sixty years of misgovernment and corruption had shaken the foundations of the throne, and destroyed the public respect for the clergy and nobility, whilst modern civilisation was asserting its influence, and conducing, with other causes, to render a radical change inevit—

able. A system of fiscal wastefulness and maladministration which was endured in the early part of the century was no longer possible.

4 In 1774 the perpetual annuities and rentcs amounted to 90,000,000 livres, representing a capital debt of 1,500,000,000. The gross revenue was then 375,000,000 livres, but the not revenue was only 215,000,000, against which there was an expenditure of 236,000,000 livres, showing a nominal deficit of 21,000,000 livres, but the real deficit Turgot reduced it to 40,000,000 livres. In 1787 in that year was about 50,000,000. the deficit had increased to 112,000,000, and in 1788 to 140,000,000. The revenue had also increased to 472,000,000, and the expenditure to 527,000,000 livres, consequently the deficit was 55,000,000, to which must be added 76,000,000 for bills due and 29,000,000 for extraordinary expenses ; so that the total deficit was 160,000,0001ivres.

In 1789 Neckcr announced a deficit of 56,000,000, but did not mention the sums due for bills, which were then from 75,000,000 to 80,000,0001ivres. In 1789 the interest on the perpetual routes and annuities was 162,000,000, in addition to which a large sum had to be paid on forestalments and various other debts. The capital of the rentes was 2,170,000,000; reimbursements, 585,000,000; forestalments, 270,000,000 ; loans from the Pays d’Etat, and the Caisse d’Escompte, 220,000,000 ; finally, the amounts to be

paid to the holders of offices, 1,200,000,000.

Consequently the total indebtedness of

the State in that year was over 4,500,000,000 livres.

666

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

that under the new rule of a youthful prince, who was known to be influenced by the best and most conscientious motives, the millen— nium must necessarily begin. The young generation was carried away by noble impulses, and indulged in dreams, hopes, and illusions based on misleading appearances. They never attempted to fathom the depths at which rested the foundations of the monarchy; they never tested the soundness of those foundations 011 which they wished to reconstruct a new edifice; they did not realise that an absolute

monarchy could never continue to subsist on the support of a debased upper class, and that there was no longer that loyalty and affection for the throne among the other classes on which alone a constitutional

monarchy could depend for its existence.

The first seven years of the reign of the young King were called the Golden Age by those who survived the cruel times that followed

them, as their ignorance of the dilapidated state of the finances and the self-deception in which they indulged inspired the young generation with an illusory confidence. Owing to this circumstance,

for which the reforms with which Louis the Sixteenth inaugurated his reign gave some ground, there was a great revival in the pros-

perity of the country. The cost incurred by France in the \Var of Independence further impoverished the State ; but nevertheless the returns of the Fermiers-Généraux showed that individual wealth was

increasing, and, according to Arthur Young, in the twenty years from 1768 the shipping trade of France doubled. Agriculture was depressed, but trade flourished a remarkable change, considering

that the old injustices of administration still continued, and that trade and industry still groaned under feudal restrictions and the oppressive monopolies of the corporations. But the impositions of the Treasury on the poorer classes had become of less frequent occurrence, taxa-

tion had been lightened, and large sums were devoted to charitable purposes.

This prosperity was as fleeting as the national content—

ment was misleading, being based not on any substantial ground, but only on unjustifiable expectations of the future. For the preceding thirty years eve‘ry capable observer fl/of the progress of events and every leading political economist had expressed the conviction that a revolution was inevitable, though they probably 'net'er realised

1 893

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UT] ON

667

councils of trustworthy men, the holding of agricultural conferences, and the establishment of free education.

He even thought

of laying out the Bois de Boulogne and the institution of companies of omnibuses. He advocated the principle that trade ‘should be as free as air, because liberty elevates, while arbitrary authority corrupts and debases everything it touches.’ These were statesman— like suggestions, but d’Argenson also somewhat chimerically expressed the wish to see an absolute king the head of the philosophers and the self~constituted leader of the reformers of the State. But if Louis

the Fifteenth was not the man fitted to fulfil d’Argenson’s ideal of monarchical rule, Louis the Sixteenth was equally incapable of carrying forward the much more extensive reforms which the still worse condition of the country at his accession demanded.

In doling out such concessions as he decided upon, Louis the Sixteenth, though unconsciously, was acting in obedience to public opinion.

The answer

given by the octogenarian )Iaréchal de

Richelieu to the young King, when invited to describe the three different reigns in which he had lived, shows how public opinion had progressed, in face of all obstacles, during the century. ‘In the time of Louis the Fourteenth,’ replied the veteran, ‘one dared not say a word. In that of Louis the Fifteenth one spoke under one’s breath; now, under your Majesty, one says what one chooses.’

The very reforms Turgot set on foot laid bare to the people, in

their full injustice, many of the abuses of which hitherto they had been only half aware. By the publication of his memorials to the King, for the first time they obtained some knowledge of the arbitrary fashion in which the revenue had been always raised, and of the still more iniquitous manner in which it had been spent. His conscientious efforts were worthy of all praise, but his disclosures

altogether shook the belief of the people in the virtue of govern— ment. They saw that their share of the taxes was excessive; that these taxes were unjust and arbitrary, and that the exemptions enjoyed by the privileged classes were part of an intolerable system.

The climax was reached on the publication of Necker’s Oomptc Reudu.

Inaccurate, misleading, and untrustworthy as a national

budget, it attacked the whole financial system of the day, impugned

to themselves the full significance of the term, nor what a revolution

the arbitrary administration of the monarchy, exposed in all their

meant in such a country as France.

As early as the year 1756, M. d’Argenson insisted on the necessity for a fundamental change in the system of government, and the suggestions he put forward for that purpose proved pro— phetic, as they were fulfilled by the Revolution. He proposed that France should be divided into departments, with the appointment of local magistrates and mayors in the smallest Villages; he recommended the establishment of uniformity of weights and measures throughout the country, the institution of tribunals of commerce,

injustice the disorders of the past administration and the lavish expenditure of the public money on the Court.

The Compte Rendu brought about the fall of Necker, as the immense popularity it secured for him inflamed the jealousy of the Prime Minister Maurepas, who at once decided to procure his dis— missal on the first opportunity. The inordinate conceit and vanity of Necker soon gave him that opportunity, as he demanded admittance to certain Court functions, from which his birth excluded him, and, moreover, he claimed to become what we might term a cabinet

666

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

April

that under the new rule of a youthful prince, who was known to be influenced by the best and most conscientious motives, the millen— nium must necessarily begin. The young generation was carried away by noble impulses, and indulged in dreams, hopes, and illusions based on misleading appearances. They never attempted to fathom the depths at which rested the foundations of the monarchy; they never tested the soundness of those foundations 011 which they wished to reconstruct a new edifice; they did not realise that an absolute

monarchy could never continue to subsist on the support of a debased upper class, and that there was no longer that loyalty and affection for the throne among the other classes on which alone a constitutional

monarchy could depend for its existence.

The first seven years of the reign of the young King were called the Golden Age by those who survived the cruel times that followed

them, as their ignorance of the dilapidated state of the finances and the self-deception in which they indulged inspired the young generation with an illusory confidence. Owing to this circumstance,

for which the reforms with which Louis the Sixteenth inaugurated his reign gave some ground, there was a great revival in the pros-

perity of the country. The cost incurred by France in the \Var of Independence further impoverished the State ; but nevertheless the returns of the Fermiers-Généraux showed that individual wealth was

increasing, and, according to Arthur Young, in the twenty years from 1768 the shipping trade of France doubled. Agriculture was depressed, but trade flourished a remarkable change, considering

that the old injustices of administration still continued, and that trade and industry still groaned under feudal restrictions and the oppressive monopolies of the corporations. But the impositions of the Treasury on the poorer classes had become of less frequent occurrence, taxa-

tion had been lightened, and large sums were devoted to charitable purposes.

This prosperity was as fleeting as the national content—

ment was misleading, being based not on any substantial ground, but only on unjustifiable expectations of the future. For the preceding thirty years eve‘ry capable observer fl/of the progress of events and every leading political economist had expressed the conviction that a revolution was inevitable, though they probably 'net'er realised

1 893

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UT] ON

667

councils of trustworthy men, the holding of agricultural conferences, and the establishment of free education.

He even thought

of laying out the Bois de Boulogne and the institution of companies of omnibuses. He advocated the principle that trade ‘should be as free as air, because liberty elevates, while arbitrary authority corrupts and debases everything it touches.’ These were statesman— like suggestions, but d’Argenson also somewhat chimerically expressed the wish to see an absolute king the head of the philosophers and the self~constituted leader of the reformers of the State. But if Louis

the Fifteenth was not the man fitted to fulfil d’Argenson’s ideal of monarchical rule, Louis the Sixteenth was equally incapable of carrying forward the much more extensive reforms which the still worse condition of the country at his accession demanded.

In doling out such concessions as he decided upon, Louis the Sixteenth, though unconsciously, was acting in obedience to public opinion.

The answer

given by the octogenarian )Iaréchal de

Richelieu to the young King, when invited to describe the three different reigns in which he had lived, shows how public opinion had progressed, in face of all obstacles, during the century. ‘In the time of Louis the Fourteenth,’ replied the veteran, ‘one dared not say a word. In that of Louis the Fifteenth one spoke under one’s breath; now, under your Majesty, one says what one chooses.’

The very reforms Turgot set on foot laid bare to the people, in

their full injustice, many of the abuses of which hitherto they had been only half aware. By the publication of his memorials to the King, for the first time they obtained some knowledge of the arbitrary fashion in which the revenue had been always raised, and of the still more iniquitous manner in which it had been spent. His conscientious efforts were worthy of all praise, but his disclosures

altogether shook the belief of the people in the virtue of govern— ment. They saw that their share of the taxes was excessive; that these taxes were unjust and arbitrary, and that the exemptions enjoyed by the privileged classes were part of an intolerable system.

The climax was reached on the publication of Necker’s Oomptc Reudu.

Inaccurate, misleading, and untrustworthy as a national

budget, it attacked the whole financial system of the day, impugned

to themselves the full significance of the term, nor what a revolution

the arbitrary administration of the monarchy, exposed in all their

meant in such a country as France.

As early as the year 1756, M. d’Argenson insisted on the necessity for a fundamental change in the system of government, and the suggestions he put forward for that purpose proved pro— phetic, as they were fulfilled by the Revolution. He proposed that France should be divided into departments, with the appointment of local magistrates and mayors in the smallest Villages; he recommended the establishment of uniformity of weights and measures throughout the country, the institution of tribunals of commerce,

injustice the disorders of the past administration and the lavish expenditure of the public money on the Court.

The Compte Rendu brought about the fall of Necker, as the immense popularity it secured for him inflamed the jealousy of the Prime Minister Maurepas, who at once decided to procure his dis— missal on the first opportunity. The inordinate conceit and vanity of Necker soon gave him that opportunity, as he demanded admittance to certain Court functions, from which his birth excluded him, and, moreover, he claimed to become what we might term a cabinet

74—39531...

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.. . , h;7;...

4; 3‘3

668

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

minister, for which

April

as a Protestant, he was rendered ineligible.

When the King refiised these demands Necker tendered his resig— nation, which, much to his astonishment, was accepted. Great doubt may be felt as to whether, under any circumstances, he could have remained much longer in office. It is true that Maurepas was an octogenarian and died soon afterwards, but, had Necker even waited a few months to urge his claims, he probably would have succumbed to some other Court intrigue, and to the inca-

pacity of the King, who not only failed to recognise the merits of his minister, but perpetrated the blunder of breaking the continuity

of his financial policy. Necker at any rate might have retrieved the mistakes of his administration and have proceeded with his reforms in the spirit in which he had begun them.

The case of Necker was pleaded by Marie Antoinette; nevertheless, he fell.

Considering the strength of her influence, was it likely

that he could have maintained himself at a future time? But what would have been the result had Louis the Sixteenth persevered even with Necker’s reforms ? That question has already been answered. In my humble opinion, no effective reform could have been carried out owing in the first place to the aristocratic system. The financial condition of the country and 9! its administration were intimately associated with the aristocratic institutions, and could undergo no really salutary change so long as these institutions were not re—

modelled. But it is questionable whether, even had they been re— modelled, any good could have resulted. The people would no longer tolerate their exclusion from all part in the management of their own affairs. Could any minister have coped with the difficulty of filling up the colossal deficit of the Treasury—a problem which the States-General were unable to solve, and which eventually led to national bankruptcy? The inference to be drawn from the examination of the ministries of Turgot and Necker is that Turgot was a man of genius, but being deficient in tact was wrecked on the shoals and quicksands of Court susceptibilities and greed, between Which he was not courtier enough to steer a successful course.

Necker was a man of the greatest ability, honest and disinterested to a degree, as he devoted a great part of his fortune to the needs of the State; but he can hardly be termed a genius, as he did not possess a commanding grasp of aflairs, dealt with symptoms instead of with primary causes, and failed to Show that prescience which is one of the attributes of genius for statesmanship. A great fault of Necker’s administration was that though he did not increase taxation, even during the French participation in the War of Independence, he borrowed too freely and largely, forgetting, apparently, that by taxation alone could the interest on these loans be met. Though the financial outlook seemed to be better during his ministry than it had been for many years,

1 89 3

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

6 69

yet the fundamental vices of the financial system remained untouched, and the money raised by loans was not procured by the State from the nation at large, but from groups of private individuals. At present, not only in France, but in most European countries, a large proportion of the population hold Government securities, and, consequently, are interested in the order and welfare

of the State. But at the end of the eighteenth century the pecuniary interests of the French State were in the hands of comparatively few financiers, who were always trembling for their security, and made losses for which they sought to recoup them— selves, partly by obtaining high official salaries, partly by specu—

lating in the financial dealings of the State. Consequently their personal interests became involved with those of the State, and being ultimately threatened in their private fortunes, they were the first to cry out for reform in the existing state of things.

They

thought it was possible to separate the financial from the general reform of the system of government, and had no apprehension that the work of emendation once set on foot would inevitably provoke a general revolution.

Still it has been asserted by many historians that the Revolution would have been averted had Louis the Sixteenth been endowed with the genius of a Napoleon. It is not altogether unprofitable, and it is decidedly harmless, to rewrite history according to our fancy, or in the light of our knowledge of recent events. Beat the history of our century may teach many useful lessons to those who would rewrite that of the eighteenth. It has taught us that the autocrats of this century differ immaterially from those of preceding ages, and are no more disposed to divest themselves of their absolute powers than their predecessors were, or to grant reforms to their subjects, however pressing and moderate their claims may be. This has been illustrated by the revolutions in Austria and Germany in 1848, and by that in Italy in 1859—60.

‘Mon métier est d’étre

royaliste,’ coldly replied Joseph the Second, the liberal and enlightened rulerof Germany,to the excited courtier who brought him thenews of a victory of the Franco-American over the English troops. Louis the Sixteenth could not have been otherwise than a royalist, though he was liberally inclined, and readily carried out every reform that his ministers recommended. It is true that he was weak, and bent like a

reed before every breath of influence. Had he, as has been suggested, possessed the genius of a Napoleon, he might have grappled with the difficulties that surrounded him, governed his people himself instead of being governed by incapable ministers, compelled the privileged classes But it may he to obedience, and stifled sedition with grape-shot. replied that it would have been nothing short of a miracle had a prince nurtured in the atmosphere of Versailles, and in the traditions of the eighteenth century—the heir of the Bourbons, of whom

74—39531...

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a... -~(- ~«mx-_ M. ..

< .1.

.. . , h;7;...

4; 3‘3

668

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

minister, for which

April

as a Protestant, he was rendered ineligible.

When the King refiised these demands Necker tendered his resig— nation, which, much to his astonishment, was accepted. Great doubt may be felt as to whether, under any circumstances, he could have remained much longer in office. It is true that Maurepas was an octogenarian and died soon afterwards, but, had Necker even waited a few months to urge his claims, he probably would have succumbed to some other Court intrigue, and to the inca-

pacity of the King, who not only failed to recognise the merits of his minister, but perpetrated the blunder of breaking the continuity

of his financial policy. Necker at any rate might have retrieved the mistakes of his administration and have proceeded with his reforms in the spirit in which he had begun them.

The case of Necker was pleaded by Marie Antoinette; nevertheless, he fell.

Considering the strength of her influence, was it likely

that he could have maintained himself at a future time? But what would have been the result had Louis the Sixteenth persevered even with Necker’s reforms ? That question has already been answered. In my humble opinion, no effective reform could have been carried out owing in the first place to the aristocratic system. The financial condition of the country and 9! its administration were intimately associated with the aristocratic institutions, and could undergo no really salutary change so long as these institutions were not re—

modelled. But it is questionable whether, even had they been re— modelled, any good could have resulted. The people would no longer tolerate their exclusion from all part in the management of their own affairs. Could any minister have coped with the difficulty of filling up the colossal deficit of the Treasury—a problem which the States-General were unable to solve, and which eventually led to national bankruptcy? The inference to be drawn from the examination of the ministries of Turgot and Necker is that Turgot was a man of genius, but being deficient in tact was wrecked on the shoals and quicksands of Court susceptibilities and greed, between Which he was not courtier enough to steer a successful course.

Necker was a man of the greatest ability, honest and disinterested to a degree, as he devoted a great part of his fortune to the needs of the State; but he can hardly be termed a genius, as he did not possess a commanding grasp of aflairs, dealt with symptoms instead of with primary causes, and failed to Show that prescience which is one of the attributes of genius for statesmanship. A great fault of Necker’s administration was that though he did not increase taxation, even during the French participation in the War of Independence, he borrowed too freely and largely, forgetting, apparently, that by taxation alone could the interest on these loans be met. Though the financial outlook seemed to be better during his ministry than it had been for many years,

1 89 3

0A USES OF THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION

6 69

yet the fundamental vices of the financial system remained untouched, and the money raised by loans was not procured by the State from the nation at large, but from groups of private individuals. At present, not only in France, but in most European countries, a large proportion of the population hold Government securities, and, consequently, are interested in the order and welfare

of the State. But at the end of the eighteenth century the pecuniary interests of the French State were in the hands of comparatively few financiers, who were always trembling for their security, and made losses for which they sought to recoup them— selves, partly by obtaining high official salaries, partly by specu—

lating in the financial dealings of the State. Consequently their personal interests became involved with those of the State, and being ultimately threatened in their private fortunes, they were the first to cry out for reform in the existing state of things.

They

thought it was possible to separate the financial from the general reform of the system of government, and had no apprehension that the work of emendation once set on foot would inevitably provoke a general revolution.

Still it has been asserted by many historians that the Revolution would have been averted had Louis the Sixteenth been endowed with the genius of a Napoleon. It is not altogether unprofitable, and it is decidedly harmless, to rewrite history according to our fancy, or in the light of our knowledge of recent events. Beat the history of our century may teach many useful lessons to those who would rewrite that of the eighteenth. It has taught us that the autocrats of this century differ immaterially from those of preceding ages, and are no more disposed to divest themselves of their absolute powers than their predecessors were, or to grant reforms to their subjects, however pressing and moderate their claims may be. This has been illustrated by the revolutions in Austria and Germany in 1848, and by that in Italy in 1859—60.

‘Mon métier est d’étre

royaliste,’ coldly replied Joseph the Second, the liberal and enlightened rulerof Germany,to the excited courtier who brought him thenews of a victory of the Franco-American over the English troops. Louis the Sixteenth could not have been otherwise than a royalist, though he was liberally inclined, and readily carried out every reform that his ministers recommended. It is true that he was weak, and bent like a

reed before every breath of influence. Had he, as has been suggested, possessed the genius of a Napoleon, he might have grappled with the difficulties that surrounded him, governed his people himself instead of being governed by incapable ministers, compelled the privileged classes But it may he to obedience, and stifled sedition with grape-shot. replied that it would have been nothing short of a miracle had a prince nurtured in the atmosphere of Versailles, and in the traditions of the eighteenth century—the heir of the Bourbons, of whom

G 70

THE NINETEENTH CENTUR Y

April

it was said, after they had had twenty-five years of revolutionary experience, that they learned nothing and forgot nothing—been endowed with the character and the talents which were needed in the saviour of France. Had Louis the Sixteenth attempted to compel the privileged classes into obedience, another Ravaillac might have been found, and had he put himself at the head of the army, defied public opinion and provoked a civil war, it is more than likely, from the growing power and influence of the middle classes, that army might not have proved as loyal as it has been deemed, and victory might eventually have fallen to the people. The truth was that, as the Comte de Ségur said, ‘ The authority of the King had vanished, and despotism alone remained.’

But the responsibility for the Revolution rests not only on the unfortunate monarch, on

Marie Antoinette, or on the privileged classes.

The responsibility

for the Revolution rests principally on the French people themselves.

It is true that the national deficit formed a hideous chasm which no means could be found to bridge over, that the agricultural distress was terrible, that the plebeian classes were overtaxed, that the domination of the upper classes was no longer bearable, and that the misgovernment of the King from the fall of Necker was inde— fensible. But though clear-headed and logical in analysis and argu— ment under normal conditions, the people allowed their reason to run riot when their emotions became excited by an accumulation of wrongs which had now reached a climax, and, beingtoo light—hearted to reflect what the results of their action might be, they fell a prey

to their own passions and to the theatrical rhetoric of demagogues.

The ardour and impulsiveness they exercise in the pursuit of peaceful

and laborious avocations, which make them one of the most produc— tive nations in the world, they carried as vehemently into the work

of wholesale destruction ; and though patriotic in the highest degree, never having been trained to political life, they had none of that veneration for the traditions of the past which is one of the securest bulwarks against anarchy. Too impetuous to tolerate any slow prov cess of reform, once they realised the full extent of their grievances,

the weakness of the authorities and their own power, they grasped the whole hand instead of the fingers that were one by one extended to them.

When the temper of the French race was inflamed it burst forth like a cyclone, destroying every landmark, overwhelming good and evil alike in its undiscriminating fury. The Revolution,

Whose causes were welded together as the links of a chain, was fated to come, and when it came its history was inevitably destined to be written in letters of blood.

FERDINAND ROTHSCHILD.

G 70

THE NINETEENTH CENTUR Y

April

it was said, after they had had twenty-five years of revolutionary experience, that they learned nothing and forgot nothing—been endowed with the character and the talents which were needed in the saviour of France. Had Louis the Sixteenth attempted to compel the privileged classes into obedience, another Ravaillac might have been found, and had he put himself at the head of the army, defied public opinion and provoked a civil war, it is more than likely, from the growing power and influence of the middle classes, that army might not have proved as loyal as it has been deemed, and victory might eventually have fallen to the people. The truth was that, as the Comte de Ségur said, ‘ The authority of the King had vanished, and despotism alone remained.’

But the responsibility for the Revolution rests not only on the unfortunate monarch, on

Marie Antoinette, or on the privileged classes.

The responsibility

for the Revolution rests principally on the French people themselves.

It is true that the national deficit formed a hideous chasm which no means could be found to bridge over, that the agricultural distress was terrible, that the plebeian classes were overtaxed, that the domination of the upper classes was no longer bearable, and that the misgovernment of the King from the fall of Necker was inde— fensible. But though clear-headed and logical in analysis and argu— ment under normal conditions, the people allowed their reason to run riot when their emotions became excited by an accumulation of wrongs which had now reached a climax, and, beingtoo light—hearted to reflect what the results of their action might be, they fell a prey

to their own passions and to the theatrical rhetoric of demagogues.

The ardour and impulsiveness they exercise in the pursuit of peaceful

and laborious avocations, which make them one of the most produc— tive nations in the world, they carried as vehemently into the work

of wholesale destruction ; and though patriotic in the highest degree, never having been trained to political life, they had none of that veneration for the traditions of the past which is one of the securest bulwarks against anarchy. Too impetuous to tolerate any slow prov cess of reform, once they realised the full extent of their grievances,

the weakness of the authorities and their own power, they grasped the whole hand instead of the fingers that were one by one extended to them.

When the temper of the French race was inflamed it burst forth like a cyclone, destroying every landmark, overwhelming good and evil alike in its undiscriminating fury. The Revolution,

Whose causes were welded together as the links of a chain, was fated to come, and when it came its history was inevitably destined to be written in letters of blood.

FERDINAND ROTHSCHILD.