propensities, carelessly educated, but naturally of a good
disposition, ascended the throne [May 11, 1774] at a very
early age. He called to his side an old courtier, and
consigned to him the care of his kingdom; and divided his
confidence between Maurepas and the Queen, an Austrian
princess [Marie Antoinette], young, lively, and amiable, who
possessed a complete ascendency over him. Maurepas and the
Queen were not good friends. The King, sometimes giving way to
his minister, at others to his consort, began at an early
period the long career of his vacillations. ... The public
voice, which was loudly expressed, called for Turgot, one of
the class of economists, an honest, virtuous man, endowed with
firmness of character, a slow genius, but obstinate and
profound. Convinced of his probity, delighted with his plans
of reform, Louis XVI. frequently repeated: 'There are none
besides myself and Turgot who are friends of the people.'
Turgot's reforms were thwarted by the opposition of the
highest orders in the state, who were interested in
maintaining all kinds of abuses, which the austere minister
proposed to suppress. Louis XVI. dismissed him [1776] with
regret. During his whole life, which was only a long
martyrdom, he had the mortification to discern what was right,
to wish it sincerely, but to lack the energy requisite for
carrying it into execution. The King, placed between the
court, the parliaments, and the people, exposed to intrigues
and to suggestions of all sorts, repeatedly changed his
ministers. Yielding once more to the public voice, and to the
necessity for reform, he summoned to the finance department
Necker, a native of Geneva, who had amassed wealth as a
banker, a partisan and disciple of Colbert, as Turgot was of
Sully; an economical and upright financier, but a vain man,
fond of setting himself up for arbitrator in everything. ...
Necker re-established order in the finances, and found means
to defray the heavy expenses of the American war. ... But it
required something more than financial artifices to put an end
to the embarrassments of the exchequer, and he had recourse to
reform. He found the higher orders not less adverse to him
than they had been to Turgot; the parliaments, apprised of his
plans, combined against him, and obliged him to retire [1781].
The conviction of the existence of abuses was universal;
everybody admitted it. ... The courtiers, who derived
advantage from these abuses, would have been glad to see an
end put to the embarrassments of the exchequer, but without
its costing them a single sacrifice. ... The parliaments also
talked of the interests of the people, loudly insisted on the
sufferings of the poor, and yet opposed the equalization of
the taxes, as well as the abolition of the remains of feudal
barbarism. All talked of the public weal, few desired it; and
the people, not yet knowing who were its true friends,
applauded all those who resisted power, its most obvious
enemy. By the removal of Turgot and Necker, the state of
affairs was not changed: the distress of the treasury remained
the same. ... An intrigue brought forward M. de Calonne [in
1783, after brief careers in office of M. de Fleury and M.
d'Ormesson]. ... Calonne, clever, brilliant, fertile in
resources, relied upon his genius, upon fortune, and upon men,
and awaited the future with the most extraordinary apathy. ...
That future which had been counted upon now approached: it
became necessary at length to adopt decisive measures. It was
impossible to burden the people with fresh imposts, and yet
the coffers were empty. There was but one remedy which could
be applied; that was to reduce the expenses by the suppression
of grants; and if this expedient should not suffice, to extend
the taxes to a greater number of contributors, that is, to the
nobility and clergy. These plans, attempted successively by
Turgot and Necker, and resumed by Calonne, appeared to the
latter not at all likely to succeed, unless the consent of the
privileged classes themselves could be obtained. Calonne,
therefore, proposed to collect them together in an assembly,
to be called the Assembly of the Notables, in order to lay his
plans before them, and to gain their consent either by address or
by conviction. The assembly [which met February 22, 1787] was
composed of distinguished members of the nobility, clergy, and
magistracy, of a great number of masters of requests and some
magistrates of the provinces. ... Very warm discussions
ensued." The Notables at length "promised to sanction the
plans of Calonne, but on condition that a minister more moral
and more deserving of confidence should be appointed to carry
them into execution."
{1253}
Calonne, consequently, was dismissed, and replaced by M. de
Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse. "The Notables, bound by the
promises which they had made, readily consented to all that
they had at first refused: land-tax, stamp-duty, suppression
of the gratuitous services of vassals ('corvées'), provincial
assemblies, were all cheerfully granted. ... Had M. de Brienne
known how to profit by the advantages of his position; had he
actively proceeded with the execution of the measures assented
to by the Notables; had he submitted them all at once and
without delay to the parliament, at the instant when the
adhesion of the higher orders seemed to be wrung from
them--all would probably have been over; the parliament,
pressed on all sides, would have consented to everything. ...
Nothing of the kind, however, was done. By imprudent delays
occasion was furnished for relapses; the edicts were submitted
only one after another; the parliament had time to discuss, to
gain courage, and to recover from the sort of surprise by
which the Notables had been taken. It registered, after long
discussions, the edict enacting the second abolition of the
'corvées,' and another permitting the free exportation of
corn. Its animosity was particularly directed against the
land-tax; but it feared lest by a refusal it should enlighten
the public, and show that its opposition was entirely selfish.
It hesitated, when it was spared this embarrassment by the
simultaneous presentation of the edict on the stamp-duty and
the land-tax, and especially by opening the deliberations with
the former. The parliament had thus an opportunity of refusing
the first without entering into explanations respecting the
second; and, in attacking the stamp-duty, which affected the
majority of the payers of taxes, it seemed to defend the
interest of the public. At a sitting which was attended by the
peers, it denounced the abuses, the profligacy, and the
prodigality of the court, and demanded statements of
expenditure. A councillor, punning upon the 'états'
(statements) exclaimed ... --'It is not statements, but
States-General that we want.' ... The utterance of a single
word presented an unexpected direction to the public mind: it
was repeated by every mouth, and States-General were loudly
demanded."
_A. Thiers,
History of the French Revolution
(American edition), volume 1, pages 17-21._
"There is no doubt that the French administrative body, at the
time when Louis XVI. began to reign, was corrupt and
self-seeking. In the management of the finances and of the
army, illegitimate profits were made. But this was not the
worst evil from which the public service was suffering. France
was in fact governed by what in modern times is called 'a
ring.' The members of such an organization pretend to serve
the sovereign, or the public, and in some measure actually do
so; but their rewards are determined by intrigue and favor,
and are entirely disproportionate to their services. They
generally prefer jobbery to direct stealing, and will spend a
million of the state's money in a needless undertaking, in
order to divert a few thousands into their own pockets. They
hold together against all the world, while trying to
circumvent each other. Such a ring in old France was the
court. By such a ring will every country be governed, where
the sovereign who possesses the political power is weak in
moral character or careless of the public interest; whether
that sovereign be a monarch, a chamber, or the mass of the
people. Louis XVI., king of France and of Navarre, was more
dull than stupid, and weaker in will than in intellect. ... He
was ... thoroughly conscientious, and had a high sense of the
responsibility of his great calling. He was not indolent,
although heavy, and his courage, which was sorely tested, was
never broken. With these virtues he might have made a good
king, had he possessed firmness of will enough to support a
good minister, or to adhere to a good policy. But such
strength had not been given him. Totally incapable of standing
by himself, he leant successively, or simultaneously, on his
aunt, his wife, his ministers, his courtiers, as ready to
change his policy as his adviser. Yet it was part of his
weakness to be unwilling to believe himself under the guidance
of any particular person; he set a high value on his own
authority, and was inordinately jealous of it. No one,
therefore, could acquire a permanent influence. Thus a
well-meaning man became the worst of sovereigns. ... Louis XV.
had been led by his mistresses; Louis XVI. was turned about by
the last person who happened to speak to him. The courtiers,
in their turn, were swayed by their feelings, or their
interests. They formed parties and combinations, and intrigued
for or against each other. They made bargains, they gave and
took bribes. In all these intrigues, bribes, and bargains, the
court ladies had a great share. They were as corrupt as the
men, and as frivolous. It is probable that in no government
did women ever exercise so great an influence. The factions
into which the court was divided tended to group themselves
round certain rich and influential families. Such were the
Noailles, an ambitious and powerful house, with which
Lafayette was connected by marriage; the Broglies, one of whom
had held the thread of the secret diplomacy which Louis XV.
had carried on behind the backs of his acknowledged ministers;
the Polignacs, new people, creatures of Queen Marie
Antoinette; the Rohans, through the influence of whose great
name an unworthy member of the family was to rise to high
dignity in the church and the state, and then to cast a deep
shadow on the darkening popularity of that ill-starred
princess. Such families as these formed an upper class among
nobles. ... It is not easy, in looking at the French
government in the eighteenth century, to decide where the
working administration ended, and where the useless court that
answered no real purpose began. ... There was the department of
hunting and that of buildings, a separate one for royal
journeys, one for the guard, another for police, yet another
for ceremonies. There were five hundred officers 'of the
mouth,' table-bearers distinct from chair-bearers. There were
tradesmen, from apothecaries and armorers at one end of the
list to saddle-makers, tailors and violinists at the other. ...
The military and civil households of the king and of the
royal family are said to have consisted of about fifteen
thousand souls, and to have cost forty-five million francs per
annum. The holders of many of the places served but three
months apiece out of every year, so that four officers and
four salaries were required, instead of one. With such a
system as this we cannot wonder that the men who administered
the French government were generally incapable and
self-seeking. Most of them were politicians rather than
administrators, and cared more for their places than for their
country. Of the few conscientious and patriotic men who
obtained power, the greater number lost it very speedily."
_E. J. Lowell,
The Eve of the French Revolution,
chapter 2._
ALSO IN:
_F. Rocquain,
The Revolutionary Spirit preceding the French Revolution,
chapters 9-11._
_Mme. de Stael,
Considerations on the Principal Events
of the French Revolution,
chapters 3-10 (volume 1)._
_J. Necker,
On the French Revolution,
part. 1, section 1 (volume 1)._
_Condorcet,
Life of Turgot,
chapters 5-6._
_L. Say,
Turgot,
chapters 5-7._
_C. D. Yonge,
Life of Marie Antoinette,
chapters 8-21._
{1254}
FRANCE: A. D. 1778 (February).
Treaty with the United States of America.
See UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1776-1778,
and 1778 (FEBRUARY).
FRANCE: A. D. 1780 (July).
Fresh aid to the United States of America.
See UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1780 (July).
FRANCE: A. D. 1782.
Disastrous naval defeat by Rodney.
Unsuccessful siege of Gibraltar.
See ENGLAND: A. D. 1780-1782.
FRANCE: A. D. 1782.
The negotiation of Peace between Great Britain and the United
States of America.
Dissatisfaction of the French minister.
See UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1782 (SEPTEMBER),
and (SEPTEMBER-NOVEMBER).
FRANCE: A. D. 1784-1785.
The affair of the Diamond Necklace.
The chief actor in the affair of the diamond necklace, which
caused a great scandal and smirched the queen's name, was an
adventuress who called herself the Comtesse de Lamotte, and
claimed descent from Henry II., but who had been half servant,
half companion, to a lady of quality, and had picked up a
useful acquaintance with the manners and the gossip of court
society. "Madame de Lamotte's original patroness had a
visiting acquaintance with the Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan,
and in her company her protégée learned to know him also.
Prince Louis, who had helped to receive Marie Antoinette at
Strasburg, had been the French ambassador at Vienna, where he
had disgusted and incensed Maria Theresa by his worldliness,
profligacy, and arrogance. She had at last procured his
withdrawal, and her letters expressing a positive terror lest
he should come near Marie Antoinette and acquire an influence
over her, were not without their effect. He was not allowed to
appear at Court, and for ten long years fretted and fumed
under a sense of the royal displeasure. ... He was now a man
bordering on fifty, grey-headed, rosy, 'pursy,' with nothing
save his blue blood and the great offices which he disgraced
to recommend him. Madame de Lamotte, hovering about Paris and
Versailles, where she had lodgings in La Belle Inage, tried to
make her own of backstairs gossip, and picked up a hint or
two. Suddenly a great idea struck her, founded on the history
of a magnificent necklace dangled before bright eyes, over
which many an excitable imagination gloated. The Queen had a
court jeweller, Bœhmer, who had formerly been jeweller to the
King of Saxony at Dresden. ... For a period of years he had
been collecting and assorting the stones which should form an
incomparable necklace, in row upon row, pendants and tassels
of lustrous diamonds, till the price reached the royal pitch
of from eighty to ninety thousand pounds English money. This
costly 'collar,' according to rumour, was ... meant, in the
beginning, for the Comtesse du Barry. In the end, it ... was
offered with confidence to the Queen. ... She declined to
buy--she had enough diamonds. ... There was nothing for it but
that Bœhmer should 'hawk' his necklace in every Court of
Europe, without success, till the German declared himself
ruined, and passionately protested that, if the Queen would
not buy the diamonds, there was no resource for him save to
throw himself into the Seine. But there was a resource,
unhappily for Bœhmer, unhappily for all concerned, most so for
the poor Queen. Madame de Lamotte, in keeping up her
acquaintance with Prince Louis de Rohan, began to hint darkly
that there might be ways of winning the royal favour. She
threw out cunning words about the degree of importance and
trust to which she had attained in the highest quarters at
Versailles; about the emptiness of the Queen's exchequer, with
consequent difficulties in the discharge of her charities;
about the secret royal desire for the famous necklace, which
the King would not enable Marie Antoinette to obtain. The
blinded and besotted Cardinal drank in these insinuations. The
black art was called in to deepen his convictions. In an age
when many men, especially many churchmen, believed in nothing,
in spite of their professions, naturally they were given over
to believe a lie. Cagliostro, astrologer and modern magician,
was flourishing in Paris, and by circles and signs he promised
the priest, De Rohan, progress in the only suit he had at
heart. Still the dupe was not so infatuated as to require no
proof of the validity of these momentous implications, and
proof was not wanting; notes were handed to him, to be
afterwards shown to Bœhmer, graciously acknowledging his
devotion, and authorising him to buy for the Queen the diamond
necklace. These notes were apparently written in the Queen's
hand (that school-girl's scrawl of which Maria Theresa was
wont to complain); but they were signed 'Marie Antoinette de
France,' a signature which so great a man as the Cardinal
ought to have known was never employed by the Queen, for the
very good reason that the termination 'de France' belonged to
the children and not to the wife of the sovereign. Even a
further assurance that all was right was granted. The
Cardinal, trembling in a fever of hope and expectation, was
told that a private interview with the Queen would be
vouchsafed to him at midnight in the Park of Versailles. At
the appointed hour, on the night of the 28th of July, 1784, De
Rohan, in a blue greatcoat and slouched hat, was stationed,
amidst shrouding, sultry darkness, in the neighbourhood of the
palace. Madame de Lamotte, in a black domino, hovered near to
give the signal of the Queen's approach. The whisper was
given, 'In the Hornbeam Arbour,' and the Cardinal hurried to
the spot, where he could dimly descry a tall lady in white,
with chestnut hair, blue eyes, and a commanding air, if he
could really have seen all these well-known attributes. He
knelt, but before he could do more than mutter a word of
homage and gratitude, the black domino was at his side again
with another vehement whisper, 'On vient' (They come).
{1255}
The lady in white dropped a rose, with the significant words,
'Vous savez ce que cela veut dire' (You know what that means),
and vanished before the 'Vite, vite' ('Quick, quick ') of the
black domino, for the sound of approaching footsteps was
supposed to indicate the approach of Madame and the Comtesse
d'Artois, and the Cardinal, in his turn, had to flee from
detection. What more could be required to convince a man of
the good faith of the lady. ... Bœhmer received a hint that he
might sell his necklace, through the Prince Cardinal Louis de
Rohan, to one of the great ones of the earth, who was to
remain in obscurity. The jeweller drew out his terms--sixteen
hundred thousand livres, to be paid in five equal instalments
over a year and a-half--to which he and Prince Louis affixed
their signatures. This paper Madame de Lamotte carried to
Versailles, and brought it back with the words written on the
margin, 'Bon Marie Antoinette de France.' In the meantime,
Bœhmer, the better to keep the secret, gave out that he had
sold the necklace to the Grand Turk for his favourite Sultana.
The necklace was, in fact, delivered to Prince Louis and by
him entrusted to Madame Lamotte, from whose hands it passed
--not into the Queen's. Having been taken to pieces, it was
sent in all haste out of the kingdom, while the Cardinal,
according to his own account, was still played with. ... It
goes without saying that no payment, except a small offer of
interest on the thirty thousand, was forthcoming. The Cardinal
and Bœhmer were betrayed into wrath, dismay, and despair.
Bœhmer took it upon him to apply, in respectful terms, to her
Majesty for payment; and when she said the whole thing was a
mistake, the man must be mad, and caused her words to be
written to him, he sought an interview with Madame Campan, the
first woman of the bedchamber, at her house at Crespy, where
he had been dining, and in the gardens there, in the middle of
a thunder-shower, astounded her with his version of the story.
... The Cardinal was taken to the Bastille. More arrests
followed, including those of Madame de Lamotte, staying
quietly in her house at Bar-sur-Aube, and the girl Gay
d'Oliva, an unhappy girl, tall and fair haired, taken from the
streets of Paris, and brought to the park of Versailles to
personate the Queen. It was said the Queen wept passionately
over the scandal--well she might. The court in which the case
was tried might prove the forgery, as in fact it did, though
not in the way she expected; but every Court in Europe would
ring with the story, and she had made deadly enemies, if not
of the Church itself, of the great houses of De Rohan, De
Soubise, De Guéménée, De Marsan, and their multitude of
allies. The process lasted nine months, and every exertion was
made for the deliverance of the princely culprit. ... The
result of the trial was that, though the Queen's signature was
declared false, Madame de Lamotte was sentenced to be whipped,
branded, and imprisoned for life, her husband was condemned to
the galleys, and a man called Villette de Retaux, who was the
actual fabricator of the Queen's handwriting, was sentenced to
be banished for life. The Cardinal Prince Louis de Rohan was
fully acquitted, with permission to publish what defence he
chose to write of his conduct. When he left the court, he was
escorted by great crowds, hurrahing over his acquittal,
because it was supposed to cover the Court with
mortification."
_Sarah Tytler,
Marie Antoinette,
chapter 12._
ALSO IN:
_T. Carlyle,
The Diamond Necklace
(Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, volume 5)._
_H. Vizetelly,
The Story of the Diamond Necklace._
FRANCE: A. D. 1787-1789.
Struggle of the Crown with the Parliament of Paris.
The demand for a meeting of the States-General yielded to.
Double representation of the Third Estate conceded.
The make-up of the States-General as elected by the three
Estates.