[1771 A.D.] "There exist in. France, as in all monarchies, certain inviolable rights which belong to the nation. In spite of the machinations of those who are endeavouring to sow disaffection in your kingdom, they have not yet succeeded in persuading you that there is no difference between the French nation and a nation of slaves. The law of property is, of all human laws, the one which has heretofore been most respected in France. That a man cannot be deprived of his office is also a sacred law in this kingdom, for it is through that alone that any citizen can feel sure of his position. Therefore confiscation of prop erty, and especially confiscation of office, have never been decreed except after a criminal inquiry. For the first time, sire, since the founding of the kingdom, we have just seen both property and offices confiscated after a mere allegation and by a decision of your council. "The nation used formerly to have the satisfaction of making known its grievances to the kings who preceded you; but for a century and a half the states have not been convened.1 Until now the protests of the courts have, to a certain extent, made up for those of the states; but to-day the last resource which was left to the people has been taken from them. The people, now that their representatives are dispersed, have no longer any means of making themselves heard. The nobility, who are nearer to your majesty, are obliged to keep silent. Finally, even the princes of the blood seem to be denied access to the throne. Question the nation itself, sire, since the nation alone is permitted to be heard by your majesty. The incorruptible testimony of its representatives will show at least whether the magistracy alone is interested in the violation of the laws, or whether the cause we are defending to-day is that of the people, through whom and by whom you are king.' The king only admitted the delegates of the court of aids, charged with the complaints of that court, on the 4th of March following. He said to them, "I shall not receive the protests of the court of aids if such protests concern matters which do not come within its province, and still less, if before being presented to me, they have been allowed to gain publicity." CHURCH OF ST. GERMAIN DES PRÉS, A solemn mass was to be celebrated on the 22nd of March in memory of the entry of Henry IV into Paris, and the different courts were summoned to attend. On the 20th the members of the court of aids decided that they would withdraw if the stalls set apart for the members of parliament were occupied by any except those who formerly belonged to that institution, and, finding these places occupied by members of the provisional parliament, the court actually retired. On their return to the palace, they renewed their protest, declaring they would acknowledge none of the acts of the new court, 1 The last states-general had been convoked in 1614 under Louis XIII. [1771 A.D.] and forbidding all officers within their jurisdiction to yield obedience to it. Before many days had passed the president was banished to Malesherbes. Royal commissioners appeared on the 9th of April before the court of aids which had been convoked by warrants, and recorded an edict suppressing that court and transferring its functions to the parliaments and the higher councils. This being done, Marshal Richelieu enjoined the magistrates to disperse. They remained seated and declared they would only yield to force. The marshal called in the soldiers. Then the court retired, led by the king's officers. All the members afterwards met at the house of the president de Boisgibault, who was presiding in the absence of Malesherbes, and signed a protest against the edict suppressing the court. A warrant was issued banishing the president de Boisgibault. The inadequacy of the provisional parliament soon made itself felt. The chancellor saw the necessity of making some definite organization which would inspire confidence, but where was he to find the constituents of a new parliament? The former members rejected every proposal that was made to them; they preferred honourable banishment, and not one of them was deterred by the prospect of losing the income arising from his office. The great council was then appealed to, being supposed to cherish an old grudge against the parliament in consequence of former disputes. Its adherence was obtained, except in the case of some members who were consequently banished. The great council formed the nucleus of the new court, where the number of judges was reduced to seventy. This was augmented by twelve ecclesiastics, several councillors of the court of aids, and some legal personages. The king summoned these heterogeneous elements to Versailles on the 13th of April. Three edicts were read before this assembly and were recorded, although the council had no legal existence because it had not been formally installed. The first edict dissolved the Paris parliament, the second suppressed the court of aids, the third transformed the great council into a parliament. Séguier, advocate-general, had the courage to utter before Louis XV and the judges who had superseded the former magistrates a speech representing the dissolution of parliament as a source of disturbance to men's minds and of confusion in the state. To this speech, the king, in closing the assembly, replied in the following words: "You have just heard my intentions, I wish them to be complied with. I command you to begin your duties on Monday. My chancellor shall install you. I forbid any protests against my wishes, and any representations in favour of my former parliament, for I shall never change." He pronounced these last words with an energy which was not habitual to him, and which created a profound impression. The following day the attorney-general and the advocates-general sent in their resignations. Whilst these things were going on, the king was forming his ministry. The countess du Barry wished the duke d'Aiguillon to be foreign minister, as another mortification for Choiseul. But it was necessary to wait till the sensation caused by the blow which had been struck at the parliament had somewhat calmed down. The duke d'Aiguillon was only declared minister in the month of June. The severity of his character supplemented the obstinacy and impetuosity of Maupeou. Severe measures became more and more frequent. Already the king, in letters written by himself, had forbidden any of the princes of the blood "to appear in his [1771 A.D.] presence, to see any member of the royal family, or to frequent any place where the court might be established." Anyone who opposed the chancellor's plans was either banished or imprisoned. If a parliament, by its decisions or by its representations, reflected in any way upon the new tribunals, it was immediately dissolved and replaced by judges chosen from among the sheriffs or seneschals. All the parliaments in the kingdom were thus successively destroyed and reconstructed during the year 1771. This revolution of judicial order had taken place without any hindrance. Open opposition gradually diminished, as the new tribunals became consolidated and seemed to give promise of stability. At the end of some months, part of the bar reappeared in court. Many members of the former parliament, weary of exile, consented to a liquidation of their financial claims, thus seeming to acquiesce in the measure which struck a mortal blow at their whole order. The princes found their banishment from court a great hardship. By mutual agreement it was resolved to look upon their protest as not having taken place, and they reappeared at Versailles-first, the prince of Conde and the duke de Bourbon, later on the Orleans family. The prince of Conti alone remained true to his convictions. Maupeou and Aiguillon were triumphant. Their work seemed to be prospering, their ascendency complete. Madame du Barry was a reigning power; the princes frequented her receptions, and many of the courtiers intrigued to gain the privilege of being admitted to the supper-parties at which she entertained the king. But this apparent calm concealed a deep wound. Maupeou had set a disastrous example of instability, and furnished a logical justification of future revolutions. People saw in his policy only an attempt to establish a weak despotism built up by an adventurer, assisted by a courtesan. Montesquieu, when discussing the different forms of government, had pointed out those which he considered most likely to conduce to the liberty and happiness of nations. In the midst of their declamations against religion, the philosophers also threw out suggestions of liberty, and soon men's imaginations began to follow them in their inquiries as to the right relations between sovereigns and their subjects, and the duties of people to the king. The attack directed by Maupeou against the inviolability of the magistracy, gave a considerable impetus to this disposition of men's minds. Already the expression "the sovereignty of the people" was being timidly uttered in this old nation which was trying to become young again. If no revolt took place in 1771 it was because the educated classes, amongst whom revolutions always originate, not knowing exactly what they desired, had not been able to incite the lower classes, who put their convictions into action almost before they are clearly defined. Around the king chaos was beginning to prevail. No sooner had the ministers overcome their enemies than they became divided against themselves, each one trying to grasp power at the expense of his colleagues. In society confusion reigned, because, while exceedingly tired of existing things, men knew not what means to adopt in order to change what they disliked. The general dissatisfaction was shown in popular songs and jokes incessantly passing from mouth to mouth. The latest news of the disgraceful proceedings at court, and the vileness of certain magistrates were rapidly circulated and eagerly sought for by the irritated public. The police found it impossible to stop the sale of satirical writings. "The libel-mongers,' says Lacretelle "had acquired such power that the court sometimes compounded with them and bribed them to suppress their insulting statements "" [1771-1773 A.D.] so that the whole of Europe might not ring with them." What can the police do against a crime in which everyone is an accomplice? They obtained obedience, but were laughed at all the same. The punishments appeared more ridiculous than terrible, people cared little for a few months' banishment provided it helped to bring about a better state of things. Some military men even were beginning to doubt the doctrine of passive obedience. It did indeed vanish, but the monarchy fell into decay at the same time. The revolutionary tendency received a powerful impetus from the deep resentment aroused by Maupeou and Terray, who succeeded in alienating all parties. The first, not satisfied with having wrecked the magistracy, kept provinces where the states were held1 in subjection to terrorism. Warrants were issued more frequently than ever from the office of the duke de la Vrillière. The marchioness of Langéac, his mistress, used to sell them, and never refused one to any powerful man who had a grievance to avenge or a passion to gratify.k The comte de Ségur tells an anecdote whose humour renders it all the more horrible, as an instance of the corrupt ministry under the duke de la Vrillière: One day the chevalier de Coigny met a young flower girl remarkable for her beauty, called Jeanneton. She looked remarkably happy and on his asking why, said, "I am joyful because I have been to the count de Sainte-Florentin, and Madame AN INFANTRYMAN, END OF THE EIGHTEENTH . . persuaded him to give me for ten louis a warrant of arrest against my husband, who is a brute, and is cruel to me." 66 Two years after the count met the same Jeanneton, but now pale, thin, and hollow-eyed. Why, Jeanneton, what has become of you, my poor girl; I never see you? "Alas, sir, I was very silly to rejoice. My husband had the same idea as myself. He went to the same minister and by the same means got me sent to prison, so that twenty louis were spent by our poor family to get both of us shut up." THE LAST DAYS OF LOUIS XV (1774 A.D.) Meanwhile, his old fear of hell had grown upon the king with increased force; and this it was that suggested to Du Barry the fantastic idea of playing the rôle of De Maintenon. While the first dignitaries of the church prostituted the Roman purple at the feet of a courtesan, a simple priest had [1 These were the pays d'état, of which there were seventeen in 1789, such as Brittany, Burgundy, Provence, Languedoc, etc. These were the most recent acquisitions of the crown, and had retained certain of the old liberties.] [1773-1774 A.D.] dared to raise a protesting voice. The abbé De Beauvais, preaching the sermon on Holy Thursday, 1773, before the king and his favourite, stupefied the court with this allusion: "Solomon, fallen anew into debauchery, worn out in the attempt to spur his jaded senses by all the pleasures surrounding the throne, ended by seeking fresh diversions among the vile dregs of public corruption!" He awaited at least disgrace, if not even the Bastille; he received a bishopric. Louis rewarded the rude warning, but he failed to profit by it. The Du Barry, terrified, plunged him deeper still into the mud; the favourite called to her aid all the infamies of the Parc-aux-Cerfs.1 Seeking therein a pillar of support, she found instead her own ruin and Louis' death. The latter, an old man reeking with corruption, was at last struck down by his own vices, and his last victim dragged him to the tomb. A girl hardly more than a child, daughter of a miller in the environs of Trianon, by force of promises and threats had been delivered up to Louis by the royal police. Carrying in her system the germs of smallpox, of which she herself soon after died, she infected the king. On April 29th, 1774, the disease broke out, complicated by other evils smouldering in his vitiated blood.2 Du Barry and her creatures held their own for some days against those who preached penitence and the sacraments; when, the situation growing desperate, Louis sent the favourite to the duke d'Aiguillon at Ruel. The day following he declared that, though responsible for his conduct to God alone, he regretted having been the cause of scandal to his subjects. Dying despotism still stammered its formulas, interrupted by the death-rattle. As on the famous journey of Metz, in 1744, Versailles, Paris-all France awaited anxiously day by day, hour by hour, news of the health of that prince known in those other days as Louis the Well-beloved; but this time one dread alone was manifested that he would recover. When it was known that he had at last expired, the 10th of May, at two in the afternoon, a heavy weight was lifted from the heart of France. The putrefied remains, which tainted the air, were removed in haste and without pomp to St. Denis, amid the sarcasms of the crowd which lined the way.n Carlyle on the Last Hours of Louis XV Louis would not suffer Death to be spoken of; avoided the sight of churchyards, funeral monuments, and whatsoever would bring it to mind. It is the resource of the Ostrich. Or sometimes, with a spasmodic antagonism, significant of the same thing, and of more, he would go; or stopping his court carriages would send into churchyards, and ask "how many new graves there were to-day," though it gave his poor Pompadour the disagreeablest qualms. We can figure the thought of Louis that day, when, all royally caparisoned for hunting, he met, at some sudden turning in the Wood of Senart, a ragged Peasant with a coffin: "For whom?" It was for a poor brother slave, whom Majesty had sometimes noticed slaving in those quarters: "What did he die of?"-"Of hunger": the King gave his steed the spur. 1 We speak figuratively; since the actual Parc-aux-Cerfs, the house on the rue St. Méderic had been sold by the king in 1771. 2 His three daughters, who had never had the disease, presented a beautiful example of filial devotion: they cared for him devotedly during the course of the illness. 3 The Mémoires de Bachaumont m cite a significant speech of the abbé Ste. de Geneviève. Some young philosophers were joking over the inefficacy of the saint's intervention in the malady of the late king. Of what do you complain," interjected the abbé; "is he not dead?" |