Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1774

POLITICS AND THE PARLEMENT OF PARIS UNDER LOUIS XV, 1 754-i774 Politics in eighteenth-century France was dominated by ...

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POLITICS AND THE PARLEMENT OF PARIS UNDER LOUIS XV, 1 754-i774

Politics in eighteenth-century France was dominated by the relationship between the crown and the magistrates of the Parlement of Paris. The prestige and influence of that venerable institution provided a traditional check upon the king's authority, but after 1750 the Parlement entered a period of prolonged confrontation with the government of Louis XV. The religious, financial, and administrative policies of the monarchy were all subject to sustained opposition, and the magistrates employed arguments which appeared to challenge the very foundations of royal authority. This struggle was brought to an abrupt conclusion in 1771, when chancellor de Maupeou implemented a royal revolution, breaking the power of the Parlement and exiling its members to the four corners of the kingdom. In order to explain why the crown and the Parlement drifted into such destructive conflict, this study reexamines the conduct of government under Louis XV, the role of the magistrates, and the structure of judicial politics in eighteenth-century France.

POLITICS AND THE PARLEMENT OF PARIS UNDER LOUIS XV, -i774 JULIAN SWANN Birkbeck College, University of London

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 8RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521473491 © Cambridge University Press 1995 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 1995 A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data Swann, Julian. Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1774 / Julian Swann. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 0 521 47349 7 (hardback) 1. France. Parlement (Paris)-History. 2. Justice, Administration of—France—Paris—History—18th century. 3. FrancePolitics and government—1715—1774. I. Title. KJV3747.S93 1995 328.4407109033-dc20 94-19471 CIP ISBN 978-0-521-47349-1 hardback ISBN 978-0-521-48362-9 paperback Transferred to digital printing 2007

Contents

Preface List of abbreviations 1

page vii x

Introduction: the Parlement of Paris

i

2 Historians and the parlements

27

3

45

The king and his judges Louis XV and the problems of government Judicial politics: the rules of the game

4

The parti janseniste and the refusal of the sacraments crisis, 1754-1756

5

Managing the parlements: crisis and compromise,

6

The Parlement and fiscal politics, 1756-1763

87

156

7 Choiseul and the politics of appeasement, 1758-1763

193

8

An unhappy peace, 1763

218

9

Defending La Chalotais: the Brittany affair, 1764-1766

250

10 In the eye of the storm, 1767-1770

284

11 The fall of the Parlement of Paris, 1770-1771

314

12 Conclusion: Maupeou and beyond

352

Bibliography

369

Index

380

For my parents, Ron and Barbara

Preface

The French revolution was particularly unkind to the magistrates of the Parlement of Paris. Their institution was abolished in 1790, many of its members perished in the Terror, and to add insult to injury historians ever since have accused them of either causing or encouraging the collapse of monarchical authority in 1789. That this should be the case is not especially remarkable because the opposition of the Parlement to the crown after 1750 remains central to the debate about the origins of the French revolution. Having only recently been exonerated from the charge of leading an aristocratic reaction, the magistrates are now in danger of being convicted of contributing to the ideologies and discourse that undermined the ancien regime. The idea of noble judges in the vanguard of the revolution is a curious one, but there is no doubt that from 1750 until 1771 when chancellor de Maupeou's revolution destroyed the Parlement and exiled its members, Louis XV faced serious resistance from the court. The desire to know more about the causes of that opposition was the starting place for this work, and after a decade spent studying the parlementaires I am not sure to have found the answer. Instead, the following offers an interpretation of how judicial politics functioned in eighteenth-century France, the problems of government and the role of the Parlement. It is, I hope, less a study of the origins of the French revolution, than of politics under the ancien regime.

While preparing this book and the doctoral dissertation upon which it is based, I have accumulated many debts to both individuals and institutions. My interest in French history began as an undergraduate at the University of Lancaster, and was encouraged by Ralph Gibson and Joe Shennan. It was the special subject taught by Joe Shennan, which first fired me with

viii

Preface

enthusiasm to study the Parlement and his help and guidance in the initial stages of my research was invaluable. I was equally fortunate to have Tim Blanning as a research supervisor at the University of Cambridge. His constant support, guidance, and constructive criticism did much to calm the stress and anxieties associated with the completion of a Ph.D. I hope that his emphasis on the need to look beyond the walls of the Palais de Justice at the broader historical perspective has to some extent been heeded. While working in Paris, my work was guided by M. Guy Chaussinand-Nogaret. His seminar at the Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales was a stimulating and fertile source of ideas, and the generous hospitality extended by himself and his family greatly appreciated. Both William Doyle and Joe Shennan offered many helpful suggestions for improving the completed thesis, and a number of other scholars have offered advice and criticism. Al Hamscher, Roger Mettam, and Hamish Scott have all shown characteristic generosity by reading drafts of the book, pointing out the occasional howler and, especially, making constructive suggestions for its improvement. Pursuing research can be a lonely business, and I have been lucky to share the friendship of a group of scholars similarly afflicted by a fascination for eighteenth-century France. Countless pleasurable hours have been spent discussing the Parlements with Rob Alexander, Peter Campbell, Joel Felix, Roger Mettam, and Munro Price, and they have bravely shouldered the burden. I am deeply grateful to all of these friends and colleagues for their help and assistance, but the remaining defects of this study are my own. My research has received financial assistance from a variety of institutions. My postgraduate studies were funded by a British Academy research studentship and a Scouloudi Fellowship awarded by the Institute of Historical Research. Further research trips were made possible by grants from the Owen Taylor Fund of the Voltaire Foundation, the Central Research Fund of the University of London, and the Twenty-Seven Foundation of the Institute of Historical Research. Working in a foreign capital is an extremely expensive business, and without the help of these institutions this book would not have been possible. I am deeply grateful to them all. Finally I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to my family. My parents offered unwavering support throughout the course

Preface

ix

of my studies, and together with my sister, Jan, kept me fed and clothed even in the most difficult moments. Last, but not least, Manon has endured living with somebody who for much of the time appears lost in the eighteenth century. Their support and encouragement never ceases to remind me that there are some things in life that are even more important than the Parlement of Paris.

Abbreviations

AAE AN AN, AP BEWSRO BMB BN BN, NAF BPR BS

Archives du Ministere des Affaires Etrangeres Archives Nationales Archives Nationales, Archives Privees Bury St Edmunds and West Suffolk Record Office Bibliotheque Municipale de Besangon Bibliotheque Nationale Bibliotheque Nationale, Nouvelles Acquisitions Frangaises Bibliotheque de Port-Royal Bibliotheque du Senat

CHAPTER

I


Established in the capital since the thirteenth century, the Parlement of Paris was the most prestigious law court in France.1 Associated with some of the most momentous epochs in the history of the monarchy, it had acquired an international reputation and the respect and admiration of the French people, who by the eighteenth century had christened its members the 'fathers of the patrie\ Despite their great eminence, the magistrates of the Parlement worked in the cramped surroundings of the Palais de Justice situated on the He de la Cite in the heart of Paris. Within the walls of the Palais were housed not only the Parlement, but also several other distinguished courts including the Cour des Aides, the Cour des Monnaies, and the Chambre des Comptes.

Judges from these different institutions rubbed shoulders with the lawyers, litigants, hawkers, and criers, who made up the bustling world of the legal capital.2 There was nothing serene about the Palais, and prostitutes, booksellers, and artisans plied their wares in the very sanctum of justice. From here the authority of the Parlement expanded outwards, covering nearly one-half of the kingdom, including such diverse regions as Anjou, Picardy, Champagne, Brie, and the Auvergne. For those who lived within its jurisdiction, the Parlement represented the supreme court of appeal, but this reflects only part of a complicated picture because it also shared responsibility for a host of judicial and 1

Amongst the better general studies of the Parlement are: E. Glasson, Le parlement de Paris. Son role politique depuis le regne de Charles VII jusqu'a la revolution (2 vols., Paris,

2

1901); J. H. Shennan, The parlement of Paris (London, 1968); J. Egret, Louis XV et Vopposition parlementaire (Paris, 1970); and B. Stone, The parlement of Paris, ijj4-iy8g (Chapel Hill, 1981). The most thorough social history of the Parlement is that of F. Bluche, Les magistrats du parlement de Paris au XVIIIe siecle (2nd edn, Paris, 1986). A world brought to life by Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 211-17, and Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 97-109.

2

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1774

administrative functions. These included upholding public order, censorship, provisioning of bread and firewood for the capital, and overseeing the guilds, corporations and hospitals of Paris. In addition to these responsibilities, the Parlement played a unique role in the political life of the monarchy. In part, this was caused by the absence of the national representative institution, the Estates General, which had not met since 1614. But it was also the result of the Parlement's powers of registration and remonstrance.3 Over the centuries, French kings had followed the convention of sending new, or revised, legislation, including that concerning taxes and other fiscal matters, to the Parlement. The judges were then expected to check the proposed law against existing statutes and precedents, and, if no conflict was discovered, to add the text to their records. Registration provided the ruler and his subjects with the satisfaction of knowing that laws were promulgated according to traditional forms and customs. If, on the other hand, the Parlement believed that the law contradicted existing practice, or required alteration or amendment, it had the right to petition the king with remonstrances. Protests were also written when the judges wished to warn the monarch about the conduct of his officials, to inform him of abuses that had crept into his administration, or to criticise the activities of another court or institution, usually the clergy.4 Not that the Parlement could claim to share sovereignty. It was the king alone who initiated legislation, and he alone who decided whether or not to heed the recommendations of the magistrates. If his response was negative, and the Parlement continued to complain, he had the power to command obedience by holding what was known as a lit de justice.5 At this ceremony, the king personally visited the Parlement (or summoned it to Versailles), accompanied by the princes of the blood and the great officers of the crown, to announce his intentions. It was a legal fiction designed to give the impression that the monarch was consulting 3

4 5

The origins and importance of these functions have been discussed by: J. Flammermont, Remontrances du parlement de Paris au XVIHe siecle (3 vols., Paris, 1888-98), I, pp. lxxxviiixcv, and Stone, Parlement of Paris, pp. 17, 20-1. Flammermont, Remontrances, provides plenty of examples. S. Hanley, The lit de justice of the kings of France: constitutional ideology in legend, ritual, and discourse (Princeton, 1983), offers a recent study of the ceremony. Unfortunately, her work does not discuss the evolution of the lit de justice during the eighteenth century.

Introduction: the Parlement of Paris the Parlement, when, in reality, he was imposing his sovereign will. Although it often led to fierce protests from the judges, the lit de justice could, in the right circumstances, end a dispute to the advantage of the crown. The Parlement was, therefore, at the very heart of the institutional and political life of the ancien regime, but it was its primary function as a court of law that shaped the professional lives and attitudes of its members.

The Parlement's imposing range of responsibilities was matched by its distinguished membership. The king, who was always recognised as the unique source of justice in the kingdom, continued to exercise his right to sit in the court, for example, to attend the trial of a peer, to deliver a reply to remonstrances or to hold a lit de justice. So too did his chancellor, who, as the chief judicial officer in the kingdom, was the titular head of the Parlement. Despite occasional claims to the contrary, the Parlement was generally recognised as the Cour des Pairs.6 As a result, the princes of the blood and the dues et pairs, the cream of the French aristocracy, were hereditary members of the institution and enjoyed the privilege of having all litigation affecting their persons heard directly by the grand'ehambre of the court. It was in the Parlement that some of the most solemn moments of the monarchy were celebrated, including the lits de justice held to confirm the establishment of a regency in 1610, 1643, and 1715. Such associations and privileges reinforced the prestige of an institution already imposing by the weight of its history and the strengths of its traditions. In addition to the princes and the peers, the Parlement had no fewer than 450 officers attached to it by 1750.7 These included a vast number of honorary members, many of whom had little, if anything, to do with the daily affairs of the court. There were, for example, two clerical councillors of honour, the archbishop of Paris, Christophe de Beaumont, and cardinal de La Rochefoucauld, and six lay councillors of honour 6

7

For an alternative view see the intriguing thesis of M. Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771 or the exile of the parlement of Paris', unpublished D.Phil, thesis (University of Oxford, 1973). This total has been reached by counting both the full-time and honorary offices included in the Almanack royal for 1749.

3

4


attached to the Parlement as a body, plus forty-six other honorary officers belonging to the various chambers. In addition, the court teemed with vast numbers of greffiers, bailiffs, and treasurers and even one midwife, whose duties amongst over 200 often elderly men, might seem curious were it not for their need of expert counsel in cases involving infanticide. From the perspective of this study, however, the key members of the court were the judges who sat on the benches, decorated with the fleur de lys, of the Parlement The principal officer in the court was the first president. Although nominally a royal appointment, during the eighteenth century a vacancy was almost invariably filled by the senior president a mortier. While this was a restriction upon the king's scope for independent action, it also helped to calm the jealousies and intrigues amongst the principal candidates. In some of the provincial parlements, on the other hand, Louis XV occasionally chose an outsider as first president. Tactlessness on the part of the newcomer, or frustrated ambition amongst those who had been passed over, was a common cause of trouble, as events in Besangon between 1758 and 1761 and in Toulouse after 1763 demonstrated.8 Both of these courts were riven by internal dissension, and despite the government's use of exiles and imprisonment the magistrates eventually succeeded in provoking the resignation of the first president. Such internal quarrels were, however, rare, and the first president exercised tremendous influence over his colleagues. It was he who allocated judicial business, and thus decided which judges should hear the most important and lucrative cases. Moreover, his position made him a public figure of great stature with easy access to the king and his ministers at Versailles and the opportunity both to obtain and dispense the patronage, pensions and graces of the crown. The first president was vital to the smooth running of the Parlement because he had the difficult task of preserving royal interests while acting as the chief spokesman and faithful representative of the court as a whole. He was assisted by the rapporteur, usually a senior magistrate chosen by the crown and charged with presenting royal legislation to his colleagues. Of

These quarrels are examined in chapters 7 and 8 below.


5

equal importance were the gens du roi or parquet? which were the collective terms used to describe the procureur general, three avocats generaux and their eighteen substituts.10 The gens du roi had a long and distinguished history dating back to at least the fourteenth century, and the powers of the procureur general, whose office was equal in stature to that of the first president, have been described as those of a public prosecutor acting on the king's behalf.11 It was the gens du roi who presented royal legislation to the court, oversaw the implementation of the Parlement's decisions and had wideranging responsibilities for maintaining public order. The effective management of the court and the implementation of royal policies was, therefore, dependent upon close cooperation between the officials in the central administration and these magistrates. In 1750, the Parlement was organised into eight chambers. The senior and most illustrious, known as the grand'chambre, was composed of the first president and ten presidents a mortier, so-called because of the black velvet mortars worn as part of their elaborate attire, and thirty-three councillors, twelve of whom were clerics.12 The offices of president a mortier were highly prestigious, conferring membership in the grand'chambre by right, and they were by far the most expensive. The councillors, on the other hand, had entered the chamber from the lower chambers, known as enquetes and requetes, by virtue of a system of rank calculated according to the date of their reception into the court. The doyen of the Parlement in 1750 was M. de Symonnet, who had first entered the Parlement in 1697. As a general rule, therefore, the grand}chambre was staffed by men mature in years who could be expected to set an experienced and restrained example to their younger colleagues. It was here that the most important cases were judged, including those affecting the princes, peers, and great officers of the crown, or litigation touching the regale.u The grand'chambre 9

The parquet referred to the physical position they occupied within the Parlement itself. T h e work of P. Bisson de Barthelemy, Les Joly de Fleury, procureurs generaux au parlement

10

11 12 13

de Paris au XVIIIe siecle (Paris, 1964), offers an excellent introduction to their role. Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 43-5, and Stone, Parlement of Paris, p. 24. The numbers given here are from the Almanack royal of 1749. Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 43, 67. These figures are from the Almanack royal of 1749. Stone, Parlement of Paris, pp. 19-22. The regale was the term given to the king's right to receive the revenues of vacant bishoprics.

6

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV,

also heard appeals from the other chambers of the court, notably the requites where the litigation of individuals holding the privilege of committimus14 was heard in the first instance. The remainder of the Parlement's magistrates sat in the five chambers of enquites and two of requites. There was no internal hierarchy separating the different chambers, and the first enquites had no precedence over the fifth, nor were there any distinctions between the enquites and requites. Instead, they owed their names to the professional duties they performed in the court. Indeed, the members of the requites continued to maintain that they were officers in the Parlement with a commission to serve in the requites.15 Should they choose to renounce that commission, there was nothing theoretically preventing them from entering the enquites at a level of seniority commensurate with the date of their original entrance into the court. As this happened very rarely, nobody saw fit to challenge their pretensions. At midcentury, a chamber of enquites had an average of thirty-five judges, consisting of three presidents and thirty-two councillors.16 The two chambers of requites were far smaller, both having three presidents and only twelve and fourteen councillors respectively. Despite their title, the presidents of the lower chambers should not be confused with the presidents a mortier. They were presidents of the enquites or requites, not of the Parlement, and their title was a commission rather than an office.17 They had nevertheless enjoyed a higher salary and certain marks of precedence since the sixteenth century, and after the internal reorganisation of 1757 were given increased responsibility for the conduct of their chambers and the enforcement of the Parlement's own regulations. The enquites heard civil appeals in cases judged in the first instance by written, not oral procedures. In criminal matters, they heard cases that had not incurred afflictive or infamous 14

15 16

17

This privilege enabled the holder, usually a member of the nobility, to seek justice before the Parlement in the first instance. Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 39-40. In 1749, the numbers in the five chambers of enquetes were as follows: first, two presidents and thirty-one councillors; second, three presidents and thirty-one councillors; third, three presidents and thirty-four councillors; fourth, three presidents and thirty-one councillors; fifth, three presidents and thirty-two councillors. It is true that in 1704 the presidents had been recognised as an office, but they reverted to the status of a commission in 1757, Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 38-9.


7

penalties in the first instance. The requites, on the other hand, were courts of first instance hearing the cases of individuals holding the right of committimus, privileged cases such as those affecting certain religious orders or foundations and litigation involving the personnel and administration of the royal household.18 Delegates from within the eight chambers provided the officers for two other tribunals. The most important was the chamber of the tournelle, which judged criminal cases that had resulted in afflictive or infamous sentences involving those individuals, the vast majority, who did not possess the privilege of a hearing before the grand'chambre. The tournelle had a rotating membership consisting of two presidents and eight councillors drawn from the grand'chambre and two judges from each of the chambers of enquetes. Clerics were, however, excluded because their religious vows prevented them from ordering either corporal punishment or the death penalty. Finally, a president a mortier and two councillors from the grand'chambre formed the chambre de la maree, which heard civil and criminal cases arising from the commerce of sea fish. This unlikely body owed its existence to the church's dietary strictures, and it was of relatively minor significance. In addition to the first president and gens du roi, therefore, the Parlement had approximately 248 judges theoretically active in 1750. With the exception of the first president and gens du roi, entry into the court was possible through the purchase of an office.19 During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, French kings had sold judicial and administrative offices on the open market, including those of president and councillor in the Parlement. These offices had been coveted by wealthy members of the bourgeoisie, and had commanded enormous sums because of their ennobling properties and the access they offered to the privileges and social distinctions conferred by membership of the Parlement. According to the traditional formula, twenty years of continuous service, or death while in charge, was enough to propel the owner or his heirs into the privileged ranks of the French nobility. After a long struggle, the magistrates had 18 19

Ibid., pp. 17-23, 37-42. The classic study remains that of R. Mousnier, La venalite des offices sous Henri IV et Louis XIII (Rouen, 1945), but Bluche, Magistrals du parlement, pp. 9-100, is especially relevant to this chapter.

8

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1*774

succeeded in confirming the hereditary ownership of their offices in the seventeenth century, and by 1750 they had long been part of the family patrimony, enjoying full property rights. No new offices were created in the court after 1715, and to enter its ranks it was necessary to find an officeholder who was willing to sell.20 Once that had been achieved and a mutually acceptable price agreed, the candidate had to petition the chancellor for letters of provision. These were rarely refused, and with the formalities completed the would-be magistrate was now free to tackle the most formidable obstacle of the whole process, securing the consent of his potential colleagues. The procedure was a serious one, and the judges appointed one of their number to assess the conduct, morals, and general suitability of the candidate. Refusals were not unknown, although the Parlement was never a closed caste, and of the 590 families who were represented in the court between 1715 and 1771, no fewer than 228 were making an appearance for the first time. Moreover, unlike the provincial Parlements of Rennes or Toulouse, Paris never excluded members of the third estate from joining its ranks, although at any given moment in the eighteenth century no more than ten per cent of the court was in the process of ennoblement. Nor were these commoners of humble status. Most were already members of the judicial or financial elite of Paris, often with kinship ties to existing magistrates.21 Amongst those families entering the court for the first time, whether noble or commoner, there were a number of distinct pools of recruitment. Particularly prominent was the legal profession itself, and naturally enough successful avocats or officeholders from lower down the judicial scale made the transition to the Parlement. Some were drawn from families that had served in another sovereign court or in one of the many branches of the royal administration, even in a few isolated cases as military officers. Finally, the Parlement was particularly receptive to the sons of financiers and tax farmers. Entrance into the court was thus possible if the candidate possessed the necessary virtues of wealth and social background, although certain barriers did exist. The offices of the parquet and 20 21

B l u c h e , Magistrats du parlement, p p . 1 7 - 2 4 . Ibid., pp. 31-40, and Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 12-13.


9

the presidents a mortier were dominated by distinguished robe dynasties such as the d'Aligre, Joly de Fleury, Lamoignon, Maupeou, Mole, and Turgot, who formed a higher caste at the apex of the social pyramid of the robe. They jealously guarded their position, and competed for the office of first president and especially the coveted chancellorship. Several generations of quiet assimilation were required before a new family could aspire to join their ranks. However, the process of integration began immediately, and the novice parlementaire quickly adopted the professional comportment and social mores of his peers. An office in the Parlement provided a judge with a vested interest in upholding the privileges and honour of his institution. It was also a way of life. It is instructive to reflect upon the effects of hereditary officeholding upon the mentality and behaviour of the parlementaires. With judicial offices handed down over several generations, the court had produced veritable dynasties such as the d'Argenson, Mole, Lamoignon, Le Peletier, Potier de Novion, and Turgot, whose members held some of the most powerful offices in the kingdom. It was these families that set the tone for the court as a whole, and acted as role models for new recruits. While the hereditary principle no longer enjoys much support, there is no doubt that it could have certain advantages. With successive generations of the same family sitting in the court, traditions of service, professional knowledge, and pride in the honour and duties of the magistrature were transmitted from father to son. An already powerful esprit de corps was reinforced, and it was given additional strength by the rampant endogamy that was such a feature of social relations amongst the judges.22 The fact that the parlementaires were legally immovable, other than through voluntary resignation or conviction for a serious crime, was also significant when they entered into one of their periodic conflicts with the crown. Disobedience might bring punishment in the form of exiles or imprisonment but with their offices recognised as personal property, they could not be easily dismissed. French kings were not in the habit of confiscating the patrimony of their subjects, and the chronic financial weakness of the crown made it difficult to find the sums needed to reimburse the officeholder. Other than in exceptional circumstances, therefore, the 22

Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 81-90.

io


parlementaires were secure, and they policed their own membership and internal organisation with little royal interference. It was, therefore, extremely difficult for Louis XV to exercise any direct control over the choice of his judges. It is true that a declaration of 1708 contained strict regulations concerning the age and educational qualifications of individuals entering the Parlement.23 A councillor was required to be at least twenty-five years of age, have a degree in law, and to have been received at the bar. His proficiency in jurisprudence was also subject to a formal examination before the assembled chambers, although the regulation was far more menacing on paper than in practice. Presidents, on the other hand, were expected to have reached forty years of age, and to have served as a councillor for a minimum of ten years. Yet both the crown and the Parlement were notoriously negligent when it came to enforcing these regulations. Bluche has demonstrated that the age of councillors entering the court was declining during the eighteenth century, averaging twenty-two years seven months for lay and twenty-eight years six months for clerical recruits. Chretien-Guillaume de Lamoignon joined the court as president a mortier at the tender age of seventeen, and Rene Nicolas Charles Augustin de Maupeou, the future chancellor, assumed the same office at only twenty-three. For the families concerned, the untimely death of an incumbent frequently made the premature promotion of his successor unavoidable. Ambition may also have played a part because of the king's habit of appointing the senior president a mortier to the place of first president. A judge who assumed his office as a very young man had an excellent chance of finding himself at the head of the queue later in his career. Much the same could be said of a councillor in the enquetes or requites as it was notorious that the grand'chambre heard the most financially rewarding litigation. While these family strategies were understandable, they were detrimental to the quality and reputation of the judicial system. There were theoretically checks on the most damaging consequences of these abuses, and the junior judges were not supposed to have a voice in the court's decisions until they had reached the age stipulated by the ordinances. Once again, these sensible 23

Ibid., pp. 17-24.


11

precautions were regularly waived. Young men were thus permitted to assume an office without either the maturity or gravitas appropriate to their status. There is no shortage of amusing anecdotes about the unfortunate repercussions. On one notable occasion in 1732, it was alleged that the arguments of Jean Delpech de Mereville were endorsed because the junior ranks, who composed the majority, were busily discussing horses, girls, and parties and rather than be interrupted were content to opine, 'I am of the opinion of M. Delpech'. Even when the ordinances were respected the number of underaged judges could still hamper the work of the court. By 1769, the first chamber of enquetes was struggling to provide a service because so few of its members were old enough to participate in its formal deliberations.24 Informed commentators, including some members of the Parlement itself, were convinced that in the long-term these abuses undermined public esteem and confidence in the institution and provided Maupeou with some of his most valuable ammunition when he sought to defend his reforms in 1771.25 11

The magistrates of the Parlement of Paris were not a closed caste in the eighteenth century, and the social reality of the court was a reflection of the noble elite of Paris and Versailles more generally.26 By 1750, the old battles between robe and epee within the French nobility had been largely forgotten, and although individual incidents occasionally ruffled corporate feathers they never threatened to disturb the social equilibrium.27 Without ever losing the distinctive identity provided by their membership of the robe and the professional and corporate obligations that it entailed, the parlementaires were an established and respected part 24 25

26

27

AN XiA 8547, fols. 182-3. See the comments of Louis-Adrien Le Paige, BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fol. 90, 'Reflexions sur l'edit de fevrier 1771; Hue de Miromesnil, BN Ms Fr 10986, fols. 1— 137; and Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 12, 66-7. The work of G. Chaussinand-Nogaret, La noblesse au XVIIIe siecle. De la feodalite aux lumieres (Paris, 1976), is indispensable. F. L. Ford, Robe and sword. The regrouping of the French aristocracy after Louis XIV (Harvard, 1953), provides the standard interpretation, although B. Stone, 'Robe against sword: the parlement of Paris and the French aristocracy, 1774-1789', French Historical Studies 9 (J975)> 278-303, has suggested that friction between the two groups survived into the reign of Louis XVI.

12


of the noble elite. Not that the judges should be treated as an homogeneous social class because they were incredibly diverse in terms of their fortunes and social background. Some judges were phenomenally wealthy. Presidents Henault, Bernard de Rieux, and d'Abbadie, all sons of financiers, were multi-millionaires. At the other extreme was Pierre Augustin Robert de Saint-Vincent, whose two sisters were obliged to renounce their dowries in order to allow him to buy his office, or Clement Charles Frangois de L'Averdy, who until his unexpected appointment to the post of controleur general lived the life of a respectable bourgeois.28 As a group the judges had a reputation as rentiers, and in individual cases whole fortunes could be invested in rentes. However, as Frangois Bluche has demonstrated, the fortunes of Parisian magistrates, like those of other groups within the noble elite, were generally diversified. Income was derived from investment in property, rentes, land and agricultural production, seigneurial rights, and even commercial ventures.29 If there were huge discrepancies in parlementaire fortunes, much the same could be said of their social origins. While at least ninety per cent were already recognised as noble, there was clearly an immense gulf separating families of Lefebvre de Laubriere or La Bourdonnaye, both of knightly origin ennobled before 1400, and Jacques de Chavannes or Barbier d'Increville, sons of the legal bourgeoisie.30 Attitudes towards a career in the Parlement could also vary enormously. With the overwhelming majority already members of the second estate, it was not the ennobling qualities of the office or the prospects of becoming rich which drew them to the benches of the court. Family tradition exerted a tremendous pull and the duty of serving in the Parlement was as much part of the patrimonial inheritance as the office itself. It was the robe dynasties who monopolised the prestigious offices of first president, president a mortier, and the parquet. A career in such a position offered the opportunity for the accumulation of patronage and 28

29 30

Pierre-Augustin Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 63-7, 91. All references to his memoirs are from a photocopy of these important documents kindly put at the disposition of the author by Dale Van Kley. The original is conserved by M. Michel Vinot, a descendant of Robert de Saint-Vincent. The author would like to thank both Dale Van Kley and M. Vinot. B l u c h e , Magistrats du parlement, p p . 1 0 1 - 8 4 . Ibid., p. 51.


13

pensions from the ministry and, for the talented or fortunate, the hope of promotion to the office of chancellor or garde des sceaux. For others, the Parlement was only one step on a much longer career ladder, and many of the intendants of eighteenthcentury France had served in one of the parlements.31 After spending a few years in a court, these men bought an office of maitre des requites where they served until their promotion to an intendance. Some of the most famous servants of the crown passed by this route, and amongst the more illustrious alumni of the Parlement of Paris were the marquis d'Argenson, secretary of state for foreign affairs under Louis XV, Jean-Baptiste Machault d'Arnouville and Anne Robert Jacques Turgot, two of the crown's most ambitious reformers. Few magistrates had the opportunity to pursue such glittering careers, and many spent their entire working life within the Parlement. With such sharp divisions of wealth, lineage, and career prospects separating the magistrates, it seems remarkable that the Parlement should have been notorious for its esprit de corps. In order to explain parlementaire solidarity, historians have frequently referred to the influence of privilege which allegedly bound the disparate elements into a cohesive force in the defence of common shared interest. Whether rich, poor, blue-blooded or parvenu, the judges shared the same fiscal exemptions, honours, and distinctions, and were committed to their defence. We need, however, to be extremely careful to avoid labelling the judges as selfish defenders of their own privileges or those of the nobility generally. Privileges, rank, and honours were part of the social, institutional, and mental fabric of the ancien regime, and most of the population possessed them to a greater or lesser degree. Protecting what we should remember were legal rights was nothing less than a duty for the members of the different corporate bodies, and it would be anachronistic to expect anything less of the Parlement which was arguably the most distinguished institution in the kingdom. By rallying to defend the rights of the court, the parlementaires acted perfectly normally and participation in collective expressions of corporate solidarity helped to dissolve the barriers placed by the accident of birth. Perhaps even more significant 31

V. Gruder, The royal provincial intendants: a governing elite in eighteenth-century France (New

York, 1968), pp. 18, 39, 48-9.

14


was the common heritage of the Parlement as a court of law. Participation in the rituals and professional activities of a metier which instinctively looked to tradition and precedence to justify its actions helped to create a unity of purpose and outlook amongst the judges. Despite their famed esprit de corps, the parlementaires should not be seen as inward looking. For the members of the great robe dynasties, or the especially talented or wealthy, there were few barriers to be surmounted. Countless marriages were contracted with the aristocratic elite of Versailles, and families as distinguished as the Choiseul, Montmorency, Noailles, and Tremoille counted magistrates amongst their relatives. Judges such as Louis de Salaberry or president Henault spent more time at Versailles than in the Parlement, and were respectively part of the intimate circles of Mme de Pompadour and the queen, Marie Leczinska. Indeed, the latter was not above sending a letter of condolence to another distinguished magistrate, Pierre Gilbert de Voisins, after the death of his son, who had served as a president a mortier in the Parlement.32 The friendship between the councillor Adrien Le Febvre d'Amecourt and the prince de Soubise, the quintessential courtier under Louis XV, provides another good illustration of the social reality of eighteenth-century France.33 The two men had met at the same school, Louis le Grand in Paris, where the sons of the elite of both robe and epee freely mingled. With their tastefully decorated town houses in the Marais or Palais-Royal districts of Paris, and country houses or chateaux in the provinces, the judges had little reason to envy the court aristocrats. It would nevertheless be an exaggeration to write of a complete fusion of robe and epee. Instead, the degree of friction diminished, being replaced by something approaching mutual respect. Moreover as Paris superseded Versailles as the focus for cultural and intellectual life, the opportunities for interaction between the different branches of the governing elite expanded correspondingly. The effect of these changes upon the political behaviour of the Parlement should not be underestimated. With regular contacts between courtiers and the parlementaires, the scope for 32 33

AN U 866. The social world of the parlementaires has been studied by Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 233-94, and Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 110-50.


15

the exchange of ideas, influence and, above all, intrigue blossomed accordingly. Nor should we forget that many of the ministers of Louis XV and Louis XVI had begun their careers in the Parlement, where relatives, friends, and foes continued to serve. In the course of the eighteenth century, therefore, the barriers fostered, consciously or otherwise, by Louis XIV to separate robe and epee and even Paris and Versailles gradually dissolved. While not the cause of the Parlement's political rejuvenation under his successor, these changes undoubtedly created the climate for a more lively form of judicial politics after 1750. In many respects, the balance sheet for the parlementaires by the middle of the eighteenth century was extremely rosy. Blessed with authority and respect they appeared, superficially at least, to have little to fear. Beneath the surface, however, there were worrying signs of decay. As we have seen, there were 248 active judges in 1750 and over the next forty years these numbers would be substantially reduced. By 1759, the total had dropped to 179, and a more gradual decline continued until the revolution. There were 169 members in 1769, and only 148 saw the summoning of the Estates General. This slump was due, in part, to an alarming fall in the price of offices in the Parlement.34 The councillors were especially badly affected, and by mid-century the market had reached rock bottom. An office which had been valued at 100,000 livres in 1714 was estimated to be worth only 34,000 livres in 1751. It was not until December 1756 that the government issued an edict designed to resolve the problem, and this took several years to implement because the measure was registered at a lit de justice together with a series of unpopular declarations which provoked a judicial strike.35 According to the terms of the edict, the number of chambers of enquetes was reduced from five to three and a large number of offices were suppressed. The redundant councillors were reimbursed at a rate of 50,000 livres, and thereafter the price of offices in the court seems to have stabilised. The decline in the price and attractiveness of offices in the Parlement has provoked a stimulating, if inconclusive, debate amongst historians. It has been noted that offices were not the 34 35

Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 115-23. These events are discussed in chapter 5 below.

16


only commodity to suffer from the effects of deflation, and the value of land also diminished during the same period.36 The fall in office prices was, however, too precipitous to be explained solely by reference to wider economic factors. As a result, emphasis has been placed upon the alleged decline in the professional prestige and reputation of the Parlement. Competition from the growing royal bureaucracy produced the paradoxical situation whereby the practical administrative role of the court diminished as its political influence increased.37 It has also been suggested, following the analysis of the eighteenth-century avocat, Edmond Jean Francois Barbier, that the continual clashes with the crown made these offices less attractive.38 Clearly, some distinguished families might have winced at the prospect of entering into a state of seemingly permanent conflict with their king. Perhaps more important was the poor financial return from such a substantial investment, which, in a period when the costs of living nobly were rising, made the membership of the court a luxury few could afford. It was certainly not with the aim of becoming rich that one entered the Parlement. Having purchased his office, the magistrate received a gage, effectively an interest payment of approximately two to three per cent on the sum invested.39 Not that much money ever reached the judge because taxes, notably the dixieme and capitation, were deducted directly from this source. In addition to his gage, the officeholder received epices, which was a payment in cash made by litigants to the judges hearing their case.40 Not surprisingly, this practice gave birth to much of the satirical literature of the period attacking the venality of the legal system. A classic example was the imaginary encounter between a judge, Nigaudin, and the naive, Colombine.41 Nigaudin explained the legal process with clarity: 'well, in all cases there is only a routine. One of the parties [to the case] sent me a carriage of one hundred pistoles, and the other two grey horses 36 37

38 39 40 41

Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 143-5. Both Ford, Robe and sword, pp. 116-17, and M. Antoine, Louis XV (Paris, 1989), pp. 568-70, have stressed this point. Egret, Uopposition parlementaire, p p . 1 4 - 1 5 . B l u c h e , Magistrats du parlement, p p . 1 2 4 - 7 . Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 142-3. Taken from a play entitled La coquette ou Vacademie des dames by Regnard, and cited in Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, p. 214. All translations from original documents are my own.


17 5

and six hundred ecus; you know who had the best case. Colombine replied, 'Oh! I know that two grey horses present a well rounded case.' Nigaudin replied, 'My word, you are right; the horses can pull the carriage!' Such was the comic image of a legal system that was supposedly corrupt, expensive, and working to the disadvantage of litigants irrespective of the justice of their cause. We should, however, treat the judgements of contemporary humorists with caution. For a conscientious magistrate, the system of Spices was potentially a useful supplement to his income, but the situation should not be exaggerated. In any given year, even the most successful judge was unlikely to earn more than five per cent of the sum invested in his charge. For the vast majority of magistrates, it was likely to be much less, and with the declining volume of litigation coming before the court during the eighteenth century the value of epices was falling.42 Yet only the very poorest amongst the magistrates depended upon their offices as a principal source of revenue, and the gages of the parlementaires had always been mediocre. It was the tradition of service amongst the established families, or the desire for social respectability of the newcomers, which acted as the principal attraction of the court. Nor did the Parlement lose its appeal for the great robe dynasties, despite the opportunities for careers in the military or royal administration. Even the most cursory glance at the magistrates who served Louis XVI reveals the continuing presence of such familiar names as d'Aguesseau, d'Aligre, Lamoignon, Le Peletier, Mole, and Pinon. More compelling is the argument that office prices suffered from the competition of other ennobling offices, notably the secretaires du roi, whose role has been described as 'manufacturing nobles' in the eighteenth century.43 Although passage into the second estate via this route was more expensive, it was certainly less demanding in terms of the professional effort and family pedigree required. Whatever the precise cause, it is possible from these musings to identify three principal sources of anxiety for the judges: the declining volume of litigation, falling office prices, and the gradual 42

43

C. Kaiser, T h e deflation in the volume of litigation at Paris in the eighteenth century and the waning of the old judicial order', European Studies Review 10 (1980), 309-36. D. D. Bien, 'Manufacturing nobles: the chancelleries of France to 1789', Journal of Modern History 61 (1989), 445-86.

18


atrophy of the active complement of the court. Assessing the practical consequences of these developments is difficult, and despite the odd reference to the adverse effects of the slack market for offices upon the administration of their patrimonies, the judges made little comment. It has been suggested, not unreasonably, that with the volume of litigation falling, the devil created work for idle hands by providing extra time for meddling in the affairs of state.44 As their numbers and legal caseload decreased, it is possible that the judges felt superfluous and vulnerable, and an element of desperation was perhaps hidden behind their aggressive rhetoric and political combativeness. Generalising about the psychological outlook of over 200 individuals would clearly be of dubious value, although the existence of a certain institutional malaise merits reflection when considering the political atmosphere of the period as a whole. The Parlement of Paris was, therefore, far more diverse in its social and economic composition than it might at first appear. However, despite the heterogeneous nature of its membership, the court was bound together by a powerful esprit de corps. Whatever their personal wealth, lineage or ambitions, the judges were as one when it came to defending the privileges and jurisdiction of the Parlement. Any attempt by the government or a rival corps, whether lay or ecclesiastical, to challenge those rights was certain to provoke angry resistance. Tradition, pride, and selfinterest all played a part, but it is important to avoid determinist interpretations which assume that the court acted as a privileged body defending selfish interests.45 Some of the most heated confrontations involving the parlementaires were caused by clashes with rival courts, especially the Grand Conseil, which was staffed by their closest relatives, or with the ecclesiastical authorities. These quarrels were common occurrences and can only be understood by reference to the corporate mentality of the ancien regime. The Parlement of Paris was, for its members, the most prestigious and important corps in the kingdom, and they intended to keep it that way. 44 45

Kaiser, 'The deflation in the volume of litigation at Paris'. This is the principal flaw in Bluche's analysis, but it is repeated in numerous studies of the Parlement's political behaviour discussed in chapter 2 below.


19

in

Ancien regime jurisdictions were a maze within which even experienced judges could get lost, and situating different courts within the legal hierarchy is, at best, an imprecise science.46 Conflict between the various judicial bodies was endemic, and the need to protect their position against rival institutions was a permanent preoccupation of judges at every level. Although it occasionally contested the fact, the Parlement was inferior to the king's councils. Under Louis XV, this meant the Conseil d3En-haut, the Conseil des Depeches, and the Conseil Prive, all of which could evoke a case or quash a judgement of the Parlement.47 To have done so on a regular basis would have invited conflict, and whenever possible the crown sought to avoid wounding the pride of its magistrates. If the judges believed that the council was trespassing upon its authority, it was usually quick to protest as the many remonstrances on the subject testify.48 Supervision was, however, necessary and at the weekly meeting of the Conseil des Depeches the chancellor, or the garde des sceaux, reported upon judicial matters to the king and his ministers.49 These discussions were increasingly dominated by the need to respond to the many remonstrances and protests of the sovereign courts, whereas matters of routine legal business were dealt with by the Conseil Prive. Presided over by the chancellor, the Conseil Prive was staffed by royal judges, known as maitres des requites and the more senior conseillers d'etat, who could review appeals from litigants against the decisions of the Parlement, adjudicate jurisdictional disputes and intervene where an irregularity had occurred.50 Although the Parlement regularly grumbled about evocations, cassations or other 46

H e l p is p r o v i d e d b y : M . A n t o i n e ( e d . ) , Guide Vancien regime ( P a r i s , 1958); A . N . H a m s c h e r , age of Louis XIV: a study in French absolutism Les institutions de la France sous la monarchie

47

For a discussion of the councils and the roles they performed see M. Antoine, Le conseil du roi sous le regne de Louis XV ( P a r i s , 1970), a n d H a m s c h e r , The conseil prive and the parlements, p p . 8 - 1 7 . The remonstrances of 1-5 June 1767 provide a classic example of the Parlement's attitude on the subject. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 709-808. A n t o i n e , Conseil du roi, p p . 1 2 4 - 5 . H a m s c h e r , The conseil prive and the parlements, p p . 8 - 1 7 .

des recherches dans les fonds judiciaires de The conseil prive and the parlements in the (Philadelphia, 1987); and R. Mousnier, absolue, i$g8-ij8g (2nd edn, 2 vols., Paris,

1990-2), II, pp. 273-5.

48

49 50

20

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV> 1754-1774

intervention in its affairs, serious problems with the royal councils could be avoided if both sides exercised tact and restraint. If the king's councils had the last word on contested matters, there was technically nothing to separate the Parlement of Paris from the twelve provincial parlements which sat in the great regional capitals such as Dijon, Bordeaux, and Toulouse. In terms of both competence and organisation, these provincial courts mirrored that of the capital, although the size of its jurisdiction and its distinguished membership guaranteed that Paris was the first amongst equals. Quarrels between the parlements about precedence or jurisdiction were comparatively rare after 1750, and there was a gradual, if incomplete, movement towards cooperation at the expense of the crown.51 Similarly, relations with the other sovereign courts in Paris, notably the Com des Aides, the Chambre des Comptes, and the Com des Monnaies,

were generally cordial. The Com des Aides was by far the most significant of the three with the right to judge cases arising from the administration of the taille, gabelles, octrois, and the five great farms. Under its enlightened first president, Guillaume de Lamoignon de Malesherbes, it acquired a formidable reputation for combating abuse and maladministration within the royal fiscal system.52 When chancellor Maupeou abolished the Parlement of Paris in January 1771, Malesherbes was one of his most eloquent critics and rather than collaborate with the chancellor many of his colleagues followed him into exile.53 The great exception, and the Parlement's principal rival, was the Grand Conseil. Unlike the other sovereign courts, the Grand Conseil did not possess a limited territorial jurisdiction, and it had cognisance over all cases attributed to it by the king.54 It also exercised several responsibilities which brought it into conflict with the Parlement. These included resolving jurisdictional disputes 51

52

One important exception was the dispute of 1763-4 between the Parlements of Paris and Toulouse about the right of a provincial court to arrest a peer. J. Egret, 'Malesherbes, premier president de la cour des aides, 1750-1775', Revue d'Histoire Moderne et Contemporaine 3 (1956), 97-119, and his Uopposition parlementaire,

53 54

pp. 96-132. Egret, Uopposition parlementaire, p p . 1 9 0 - 2 . The Grand Conseil has been neglected by historians and there is no major study of the role played by the court in the institutional life of the ancien regime. For a brief introduction, see: J. P. Laurent, 'Grand Conseil du roi' in Antoine (ed.), Fondsjudiciaires, pp.

29-59; F. Bluche, Les magistrats du Grand Conseil au XVIIIe siecle, i6go-iygi

1966); and Mousnier, Institutions, II, pp. 276-8.

(Paris,


21

between the parlements, and the adjudication of some conflicts between the parlements and the presidial courts. The Grand Conseil also judged certain privileged cases, especially those of religious orders such as that of Cluny. The Grand Conseil also posed a potential threat to the political authority of the Parlement of Paris because edicts, declarations or letters patent it registered were in theory binding throughout the kingdom. Relations between the two courts were never very amicable, and the Parlement had called for the abolition of its rival periodically since its foundation in 1497.55 However, after 1750 the government of Louis XV began to see the Grand Conseil as a potent weapon with which to counter the political pretensions of the parlementaires, and in both 1755 and 1768 the king issued declarations strengthening its powers.56 Furious quarrels ensued and on both occasions the crown was forced into humiliating retreats. In 1771 ? chancellor Maupeou was nevertheless able to use the judges of the Grand Conseil as the foundation of his reformed Parlement of Paris.57 The ecclesiastical courts provided another serious adversary of the Parlement. Noted for their gallicanism, the Parisian magistrates had frequently demonstrated more enthusiasm than the crown when it came to trimming papal and episcopal power.58 Conflict generally arose because of the procedure known as appel comme d'abus, which allowed an individual, whether lay or clerical, to appeal to the Parlement against the ruling of an ecclesiastical court, or superior.59 The appel was used regularly by clerics, especially Jansenists, who had been censured by their bishops, but it was particularly cherished by the judges because it offered a priceless opportunity to intervene in the affairs of the church.60 55

56

57 58 59

60

The Parlement's remonstrances of 27 November 1755 and 19-20 March 1768 cite numerous examples of the long-running disputes between the two courts. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 20-90, 853-88. The crisis of 1755-6 is discussed in J. Swann, 'Parlement, politics and the parti janseniste: the Grand Conseil affair, 1755—1756', French History 6 (1992), 435-61; that of 1768 is examined below. J. Felix, Les magistrats du parlement de Paris, ijyi-ijgo (Paris, 1990), pp. 26-37. Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 166-70, 173-80. Ibid., p. 82, and E. Laboulaye, 'Les libertes de Peglise gallicane', Revue Historique de Droit Franqais et Etranger 4 (1858), 477-500. A. N. Hamscher, 'The parlement of Paris and the social interpretation of early French Jansenism', The Catholic Historical Review 63 (1977), 397-405, and P. R. Campbell, 'The conduct of politics in France in the time of the cardinal de Fleury, 1723-1743', unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of London, 1985), pp. 318-19, 330-2.

22


IJ54-1774

The corporate and judicial politics of the ancien regime were formed, in part, by contests about the precise definition of legal mechanisms such as the appel comme d'abus. In the increasingly embittered atmosphere that characterised relations between the parlementaires and the episcopate after 1750, these arguments could acquire an importance out of all proportion to their true value. IV

It was the legal function of a court of law that did most to form the attitudes of the magistrates, and the rhythm of the judicial year ordered not only its activities, but also its political actions. To mark the beginning of its service on Saint Martin's Day, 12 November, the Parlement gathered in great solemnity for mass.61 The presidents wore scarlet robes trimmed with ermine, and held black mortars decorated with gold braid, while the councillors and gens du roi wore red robes with fur-rimmed hoods. It was not a coincidence that this sumptuous occasion was christened the red mass. Once the religious service was over, the court received the oaths of the avocats and procureurs in the grand hall of the Palais. In the days that followed, the audiences opened in the various chambers and legal life of the court resumed. It is unnecessary to list the numerous religious, or other, holidays which punctuated the judicial year, but the court remained in session until the end of the first week in September. Thereafter, the vast majority of the judges headed for their country estates in order to oversee the harvest. In their absence a skeleton service was maintained by a Chambre des Vacations, composed of approximately fourteen magistrates headed by a president a mortier. For a committed judge the workload was demanding. The grand'chambre held audiences every morning from 7 a.m. until 8.45 a.m. and from 9 to 10 a.m., and on Tuesday and Friday afternoons. The tournelle, on the other hand, assembled on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday from 8 to 10 a.m. In theory, the audiences of the enquetes and requites were not meant to clash with those of the grand'chambre, and the different chambers were in session twice weekly for a period of two hours on different days of the week. Matters were, not surprisingly, far more hap61

These details are taken from the Almanack royal.


23

hazard in practice and the continual interruptions caused by the need to assemble the chambers for public affairs was a frequent problem for litigants and a source of late nights for the judges. In addition to hearing the legal cases that came before them, the magistrates were responsible for a variety of administrative functions. One of the most important was overseeing the activities of the inferior courts within the Parlement's jurisdiction, namely the bailliages, senechaussees, and presidiaux. Much of that work

involved verifying the enforcement of its legal decisions, known as arrets, and settling disputes involving the lower courts. It could also discipline their members. When, for example, the procureur du roi of the bailliage of Vitry-Le-Frangois registered a royal declaration in favour of the Parlement's deadly rival, the Grand Conseil, without permission from the Parlement's procureur general in Paris, he was suspended from his duties.62 On less contentious matters, the Parlement had considerable scope to adjudicate disputes, and one of its most effective tools was the arret de reglement which was primarily used to clarify matters of jurisprudence, although it could also be applied to more general administrative affairs, notably those affecting public order, or commerce. Not that the Parlement had independent legislative power, and the king could always quash the arret if he disagreed. However, it is important not to exaggerate these areas of conflict because the Parlement was occupied with a host of administrative matters on behalf of the king and his subjects. Under the broad remit of maintaining public order, the magistrates were extremely active in the daily life of the capital. They inspected the prisons, had the right to impose curfews and were responsible for preventing civil disturbance. When Paris was rocked by serious rioting in May 1750, with, at one stage, a crowd of 10,000 besieging the hotel of the lieutenant general of police, it was the Parlement which restored order, hanging the leading troublemakers in the process.63 Less dramatic, but no less effective, was its control of both public spectacles, such as the theatre, and its censorship of the printed word. Few of the great texts of the Enlightenment escaped censure by the judges, 62

63

AN XiA 8288, fol. 130, and BS Ms 801, fols. 265-6. The incident took place in January 1756. D u e d e L u y n e s , Memoires du due de Luynes sur la cour de Louis XV, 1735-1758, e d . L. Dussieux and E. Soulie (17 vols., Paris, 1860-5), X, pp. 268-302.

24

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-17j4

and amongst the works condemned were Voltaire's Lettres philosophiques, the Contrat social of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Le sysieme de la nature by Holbach. Not that the philosophes were the only target of such condemnation. In a memorable speech, delivered in April 1756, the avocat general, Jean-Omer Joly de Fleury, simultaneously denounced the Histoire du peuple de Dieu, by the Jesuit pere Berryer, and Pierre Bayle's Analyse raisonne.64 The texts that found themselves placed upon the parlementaire index were regularly lacerated and burned by the public executioner, and harsh punishment awaited any printer or bookseller who flouted the court's decision. The image of enlightened texts being condemned to the flames has earned the judges a reactionary reputation ever since. When judicial cause celebres such as that involving the chevalier de la Barre, who was executed for sacrilege and blasphemy in 1766, are taken into consideration the picture is even more damning. The use of judicial torture, or the terrible punishments inflicted upon the condemned could be added to this list. Yet many of the judges who passed these sentences possessed extensive libraries containing the proscribed works of the Enlightenment, and as individuals were perfectly at ease with unorthodox principles or doctrines.65 In order to make sense of these apparent contradictions, it is once again necessary to emphasise the legal and corporate reality of the Parlement. Acting in the name of the king, the judges were expected to prevent disturbance of public order and to uphold religious and secular authority. Novel and unorthodox opinion from whatever source was immediately suspect. As with many of their other activities, the ultimate decision of the parlementaires was founded upon legal precedent and existing statutes. While they could mitigate some of the more rigorous aspects of the law, or, as in the case of torture, stop employing all of the powers at their disposal, they were neither allowed, nor expected, to innovate. Change in the criminal code, or reform of procedures, required the intervention of the crown, and until the last hours of the ancien regime the necessary will was lacking. Thus it was not until 1788 that torture was finally abolished, although a thorough overhaul of the criminal ordinance of 1670 had to await the revolution. 64 65

AN U 434, fols. 59-91. Bluche, Magistrals du parlement, pp. 224-31.


25

The Parlement was not content with simply protecting the people from contamination by dangerous ideas, it also sought to preserve their physical well-being. Highways, bridges, and public buildings were all subject to its decrees and inspection, and the court was charged with overseeing the provisioning of grain and firewood for the capital.66 With bread providing the staple diet of ordinary Parisians, the activities of millers and bakers and the quality and prices of their products had to be watched closely in the interest of public order. The municipal administration of Paris and the hospitals of the city also came under its jurisdiction, as did the many professional guilds and corporations. As a result, the judges intervened in matters affecting wages, working conditions, and commercial disputes. Other notable areas of its jurisdiction included public education, notably the Sorbonne. The syndic of the faculty of theology was regularly summoned to the Palais de Justice in order to explain why a thesis had, or had not, been sustained, largely on account of the interminable disputes surrounding the papal Bull Unigenitus.67 More mundane matters, such as the curriculum, the appointment of officials, and the level of fees paid by students were also subject to the court's scrutiny.68 Schools and colleges were no different, and it was the parlements which assumed much of the responsibility for reforming French education after the expulsion of the Jesuit order in 1764. Finally, the court occupied a distinguished place in the ceremonial life of the monarchy. No official occasion, whether a Te Deum to mark a military victory, or a solemn mass to mark a birth, marriage or death in the royal family, was complete without the imposing spectacle of a parlementaire deputation.

v All of these examples help to illustrate the immense scope of the Parlement's involvement in the social and administrative life of Paris, and in theory it had the right to take similar action in any of the other towns that fell within its vast jurisdiction. 66 67 68

Shennan, Parlement of Paris', pp. 87-92, and Stone, Parlement of Paris, pp. 121-41. For a particularly pertinent example see AN U 1105, fols. 91-8, from April 1756. Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 91-3.

26


Admittedly, it faced growing competition from the lieutenant general of police in Paris and from the intendants generally, but the functions described above continued, in one form or another, until 1789. With a long and illustrious history, a membership of prestigious and influential men, the Parlement held a unique position amongst the institutions of the ancien regime. As the eighteenth century progressed that authority was matched by a growing political influence which brought it into regular conflict with the monarchy. The political relationship between the Parlement and the crown provides the main focus for this study, and it is to that problem which we must now turn.

CHAPTER

2

Historians and the parlements

Interpretations of both eighteenth-century French politics and the role of the Parlement of Paris have been distorted by the long shadow of the revolution. An understandable desire to provide a coherent explanation for the great upheaval has led historians to study the institutions of the ancien regime as part of a more general search for the origins of 1789. According to the traditional interpretation, after Louis XIV's death in 1715, the regent, the due d'Orleans, was obliged to seek the support of the Parlement in order to consolidate his hold on power.1 To win the allegiance of the judges, he restored their right of remonstrance, curtailed by the old king in 1673, and, in doing so, allowed the genie of parlementaire obstructionism to escape. The potential for judicial opposition to the crown was first demonstrated during the quarrels that erupted about the status of the papal Bull Unigenitus (1713), and there were serious disputes in 1720 and 1730-2. Yet after 1750 it appeared that opposition from the judges had not only become more persistent, but had also acquired an ideological dimension hostile to the authority of the crown. Renewed argument about the status of Unigenitus and the right of the bishops to refuse the sacraments to its Jansenist opponents marked the beginning of the conflict. Major crises ensued in 1753-4 and 1756-7, reaching a climax with the expulsion of the Jesuits from France in 1764. Even more disturbing for the crown was the growing resistance to its financial policies. The Seven Years War (1756-63) forced the government to rely upon high levels of 1

The following is a very brief overview, but it provides an outline of the arguments of among others: Ford, Robe and sword; A. Cobban, 'The parlements of France in the eighteenth century', History 35 (1950), 64-80; Egret, Uopposition parlementaire; and Antoine, Louis XV. With a few exceptions, the overview illustrates the standard interpretation of judicial politics in eighteenth-century France. 27

28


extraordinary taxation, and it faced stiff resistance from the Parisian magistrates and increasingly from their colleagues in the provincial courts. Louis XV and his ministers failed to develop a consistent policy to counter this opposition and oscillated, ineffectively, between coercion and compromise. After two decades of seemingly mounting unrest, the power of the Parlement of Paris was finally broken in a dramatic coup initiated by chancellor de Maupeou. In a series of bold measures implemented during 1771, the chancellor exiled the Parisian magistrates and created a new court purged of many of the vices associated with its predecessor. In the course of that year, similar reforms were enacted throughout the kingdom, and despite the efforts of a widespread and socially heterogeneous opposition movement, known as the parti patriote, his efforts appeared to have succeeded. However, after the death of Louis XV in May 1774, his young and inexperienced successor was persuaded to dismantle Maupeou's reforms and to reestablish the old system. Much of the subsequent history of the monarchy was marked by frustration and failure as the parlements challenged its authority and blocked the reforms needed to stave off the bankruptcy that opened the doors to revolution.

Although painted with broad brush strokes, it is easy to see why this picture of eighteenth-century political history has proved both so attractive and so enduring. On the one hand, it provides a comforting, linear, progress towards the crisis that toppled the regime, while, on the other, it ties in neatly with an earlier myth about the nature of government under Louis XIV. After having supposedly been tamed by the absolutism of the Sun King, the parlements were able to throw off their shackles during the reign of Louis XV and mount vigorous resistance to any further erosion of noble power or privileges. Thus, according to such distinguished authorities as Marcel Marion and Alfred Cobban, selfishness lay behind the opposition of the magistrates, who were supposedly acting as the spokesmen of a broader aristocratic


29

2

reaction. In an influential study, Franklin Ford seemed to offer confirmation of this interpretation when he argued that in the course of the first half of the eighteenth century the aristocratic sword nobility gradually fused with the increasingly respected parlementaires. By using the immense prestige and authority of their institution, the latter were able to act as the spokesmen and chief defenders of the privileged noble family.3 Similar arguments were repeated by a host of distinguished authorities including Frangois Bluche, Michel Antoine, and Roland Mousnier.4 Indeed, the theory of an aristocratic reaction proved to be so appealing that it achieved the rare distinction of satisfying historians from across the political spectrum. Marxists were understandably attracted by an argument that emphasised the selfish, reactionary attitudes of the noble magistrates in the parlements.5 Yet even Cobban, who is generally recognised as the father of the revisionist assault upon the Marxist interpretation of the French revolution,6 was convinced that the judges had acted out of self-interest. Denunciations of the motives behind the actions of the parlementaires have generally been accompanied by a robust defence of the enlightened, reforming intentions of the crown. After 1715 there were numerous unsuccessful attempts to modernise both the fiscal system and the judiciary. A number of seemingly 'enlightened' ministers, including Silhouette, Bertin, and Turgot were driven from office and their failure was attributed to the opposition of the parlements.7 Their doomed efforts have spawned a genre of historical writing which can be described, perhaps unkindly, as the 'if only' school of eighteenth-century studies. 2

3

4

5

6

7

M. Marion, Histoirefinancierede la France depuis IJI$ (6 vols., Paris, 1927-31), I, pp. 181-225, and Cobban, T h e parlements of France'. Important criticisms of the Parlement's motives have been made by: Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 217-24; Antoine, Conseil du roi; Mousnier, Institutions, II, pp. 634-55. Ford, Robe and sword. Similar arguments were also present in the classic work of H. Carre, La noblesse frangaise devant I'opinion publique au XVIIIe siecle (Paris, 1920), pp. 34-55. A good example is the judgement of Albert Soboul, The French revolution, ij8j-ijgg. From the storming of the Bastille to Napoleon (London, 1989), pp. 27-8, 37, 81-2. Cobban's role in the debate about the revolution's origins has been discussed by W. Doyle, The origins of the French revolution (2nd edn, Oxford, 1988), pp. 7-40. For Cobban's interpretation of the parlementaire opposition, see his 'The parlements of France'. See, for example, Cobban, 'The parlements of France', pp. 70-2, and C. B. A. Behrens, The ancien regime (London, 1967), pp. 163-84.

30


Usually starting with the assumption that the revolution was both damaging and unnecessary, its advocates have resurrected the policies of their preferred royal minister and declared that 'if only' his measures had been resolutely applied the monarchy could have been saved. Examples are not difficult to find, and they include often impressive studies of the careers of Machault, 8 Turgot,9 Necker,10 and Lamoignon.11 Some historians have even made Louis XV the rather unlikely hero of their drama by maintaining that he was personally responsible for reasserting royal authority at the end of his reign.12 Not surprisingly, the events of 1771 have been seen as providing confirmation of the widely held belief that the monarchy was capable of regeneration.13 Maupeou has been described as the 'last of the great ministers of the Bourbon dynasty',14 and at least one right-wing French historian has claimed that cin burying Louis XV, the monks buried the last great hope of the monarchy'.15 Amongst French historians, the enthusiasm for the chancellor and his works shows little sign of abating, and in his mammoth biography of Louis XV Michel Antoine has retold a now familiar story.16 By dismissing Maupeou and his reforms, Louis XVI threw away the precious legacy of his grandfather making any future administrative or political reform impossible. It is a classic statement of an interpretation that is no longer tenable. For some historians, the enduring popularity of the myth of a 8

9

10 11

12

13

14 15 16

M. Marion, Machault d'Arnouville. Etude sur Vhistoire du controle general desfinancesde 1749 a 1754 (Paris, 1891). D. Dakin, Turgot and the ancien regime (London, 1939), and E. Faure, La disgrace de Turgot (Paris, 1961). R. D. Harris, Necker. Reform statesman of the ancien regime (Berkeley, Calif., 1979). M. Marion, Le garde des sceaux Lamoignon et la reforme judiciaire de 1788 (Paris, 1905), and J. Egret, La pre-revolution francaise, 1787-1789 (Paris, 1962). P. Gaxotte, Le siecle de Louis XV (Paris, 1933), attempted to defend this position, and echoes of it are to be found in the work of his disciples such as L. Laugier, Un ministere reformateur sous Louis XV: le triumvirat, 1770-1774 (Paris, 1975). See, among others: L. Cahen, Les querelles religieuses et parlementaires sous Louis XV (Paris, 1913), pp. 99-110; Glasson, Le parlement de Paris, II, pp. 361-72; and B. de Lacombe, La resistance janseniste et parlementaire au temps de Louis XV: Vabbe Nigon de Berty, 17021772 (Paris, 1948), pp. 230-68. A. Cobban, A history of modern France (3 vols., London, 1961), I, p. 97. L. Laugier, Le triumvirat, p. 619. Antoine, Louis XV. For a considerably shorter version of Antoine's ideas see his 'La monarchic absolue' in K. M. Baker (ed.), The French revolution and the creation of modern political culture, I: The political culture of the old regime (Oxford, 1987), pp. 20-1.


31

reforming monarchy and the infatuation with Maupeou is clearly the result of nostalgia for the ancien regime, but in general it reflects a profound misunderstanding of the nature of royal government. Deceived by the notion that Louis XIV had created a bureaucratic or administrative monarchy, they have failed to see that the majority of the government's failures were the result of its own weaknesses.17 This is all the more remarkable when one considers that over a century ago the greatest of nineteenthcentury historians of the parlements, Jules Flammermont, wrote a still unsurpassed study of the chancellor in which he was sceptical of his claims to be seen as a far-sighted reformer.18 He did, however, concede that by 1774 the new judicial system was firmly established, and that Louis XVTs decision to recall the old parlements in November of that year was a mistake. Yet Flammermont was far from convinced that the restored magistrates were responsible for the failure of would-be reformers such as Turgot or Necker. Instead, he emphasised the importance of factions at court in destabilising successive ministries.19 Subsequent historians, preoccupied by parlementaire resistance to government reform, did not allow such doubts to intrude upon their Manichean version of eighteenth-century politics, and it was not until the 1960s that dissenting voices were heard. One of the first serious challenges to the prevailing orthodoxy came from the pen of J. H. Shennan, who argued that in order to understand the political role of the parlementaires it was necessary to remember their primary role as judges.20 Before registering new laws, they looked to precedents and consequently tended to react unfavourably when confronted by novel or innovative legislation. According to Shennan, previous historians had made the mistake of confusing conservative legalism with self-interest when in fact the two were often distinct. An even more critical assault on the traditional interpretation was offered by Jean 17

18

19

20

This assumption is common to the works of Antoine, Cobban, Gaxotte, Laugier, and Marion cited above. J. Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou et les parlements (Paris, 1883). Flammermont also provided an extremely useful introduction to each of the three volumes of the Parlement's remonstrances. Ibid., pp. 591-5. The importance of court faction was also stressed by Dakin, Turgot, pp. 207-30, 252-65. J. H. Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement of Paris, 1715-1748', unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of Cambridge, 1963), and his Parlement of Paris.

32

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, iy'54-17/4

Egret.21 The most striking feature of his work was the sympathetic treatment of the judicial opposition to Louis XV. Although well aware of the magistrates' many shortcomings, Egret argued that they nevertheless acted as a final and necessary barrier to arbitrary government. In their many remonstrances and protests, the parlements were attempting to articulate broader concerns about the rights of the individual, provincial privileges, and the abuses of the government. Much of the instability and conflict that occurred after 1750 was, therefore, the result of an understandable resistance to the insatiable fiscal demands of the monarchy.22 In his argument, it was possible to detect the influence of Flammermont, although Egret was also reviving an interpretation that had been expressed at the end of the nineteenth century in several studies of the provincial parlements.23 For historians who were writing from a regional perspective, it was natural to cast the centralising monarchy as the enemy of provincial liberties staunchly defended by the parlementaires. Admittedly, this approach still tended to see conflict in rather black and white terms, but it did at least acknowledge that when examining the motives of the magistrates there could also be shades of grey. Finally, in a combative article, William Doyle launched an attack upon Maupeou's reputation as a reforming statesman. He described the chancellor as an ambitious opportunist seeking to use the Parlement as a foil in his campaign to unseat a ministerial rival, the due de Choiseul.24 Doyle pushed the debate into new territory by declaring that not only were Maupeou's reforms unnecessary, but they were also unable to acquire the legitimacy needed to ensure their survival once their author had lost the 21

22 23

J . Egret, Le parlement de Dauphine et les affaires publiques dans la deuxieme moitie du XVIIIe

siecle (2 vols., Paris, 1942), and especially his L'opposition parlementaire. Earlier historians such as Flammermont and Emile Glasson, Le parlement de Paris, II, pp. 153-371, were also aware that the Parlement's role was more nuanced, although their conclusions tended to be overlooked because of the general enthusiasm for the idea of an aristocratic reaction. The argument was put with force in Egret, 'Malesherbes'. S e e : A . E s t i g n a r d , Le parlement de Franche-Comte de son installation a Besanqon a sa suppression, i6y4~iygo (2 vols., Paris, 1892); B. Pocquet, Le pouvoir absolu et I'esprit provincial: le due dAiguillon et La Chalotais (3 vols., Paris, 1900-1); A. Le Moy, Le parlement de Bretagne et le pouvoir royal au XVIIIe siecle (Angers, 1909); and A. Colombet, Les parlementaires bourguignons a la Jin du XVIIIe siecle (Dijon, 1937).

24

W. Doyle, 'The parlements of France and the breakdown of the old regime, 17711788', French Historical Studies 6 (1970), 415-58.


33

confidence of the king. Far from being a terrible mistake, Louis XVTs decision to recall the magistrates exiled by his grandfather was thoroughly predictable. After nearly four years of exile, the magistrates returned chastened and reluctant to engage in conflict with the crown until the final crisis of the regime in 1787-8.25 Unfortunately, the surviving defenders of the administrative monarchy, such as Laugier or Antoine, have failed to take up the challenge,26 and the only serious riposte has come from the pen of David Hudson.27 He has argued that the severe financial and political crisis of 1763-4, which followed the Seven Years War, was crucial to the development of relations between the crown and the parlements. On that occasion, the magistrates proved capable of blocking the reform plans of the controleur general, Bertin, and of threatening the government with bankruptcy. As a result, Hudson believed that Louis XV and his ministers chose to mount an aggressive defence of the royal authority, a trend which reached its fullest expression under Maupeou. Hudson also praised the chancellor's reforms. In his opinion, the new parlements had weathered the troubled period after their creation and had proved themselves to be both effective and durable. Despite Hudson's efforts, the tide amongst most British and American scholars has turned against the reforming monarchy and this work should add further proof that ancien regime administration had little in common with the modern state. Eighteenth-century governments were not composed of like-minded bureaucrats anxious to perfect the mechanisms of royal administration. Ministers were constantly alert to any opportunity to unseat a rival and to replace him with a relative or client, and most of the checks experienced by so-called reforming statesmen were the direct result of the intrigues of their colleagues. Moreover, these disputes regularly spilled over into the Parlement, where ministers had built factions in order to further their own interests. It is not, therefore, enough to rely upon the old cliches 25

26

27

Many of Doyle's conclusions were confirmed by Bailey Stone, Parlement of Paris, and his The French parlements and the crisis of the old regime ( C h a p e l Hill, 1986). This dialogue of the deaf is illustrated perfectly by the respective articles of Antoine and Doyle in Baker (ed.), Political culture, pp. 3-24, 157-68. D. Hudson, T h e parlementary crisis of 1763 in France and its consequences', Canadian Journal of History 7 (1972), 97-117 and 'In defence of reform: French government propaganda during the Maupeou crisis', French Historical Studies 8 (1973), 49—76.

34


about the judges reacting in a defensive fashion against the inexorable tide of history, whether expressed in terms of the growth of state power or the pressures of social and economic change. Interpretations which describe judicial politics in these simple confrontational terms are mere caricatures of a system which was prey to a host of social pressures and functioned according to a complicated series of written and unwritten rules. Indeed, an awareness of the many mechanisms that existed for the resolution of political conflict has led some historians to reject the idea of a serious crisis altogether.28 In a recent article, Doyle has maintained that the parlementaire quarrels were 'a highly effective way of involving the governed in government'.29 Instead of mounting opposition to royal policy, he describes a 'stable5 political system, which was destroyed by the peculiar circumstances of the Brittany affair. Such an interpretation pushes the revisionist case too far. From a broader perspective Maupeou's revolution was an aberration, but the storm of 1771 did not break out of a clear blue sky. If not inevitable, more than two decades of growing unrest in the sovereign courts and of instability at Versailles had made some kind of serious political rupture highly likely by 1771. One of the principal aims of this study is to explain the causes of that crisis which did so much to undermine the ancien regime.

11

Research has not only concentrated upon the political and institutional history of the parlements, and there has long been an interest in the broader intellectual consequences of their disputes with the crown. It has been argued that during the eighteenth century, French magistrates sought to augment their power by deliberately distorting their role in the political life of France.30 Central to their claims were the so-called fundamental laws, the ill-defined customary constitution of the kingdom. The 28 29 30

W. Doyle, 'The Parlements' in Baker (ed.), Political culture. Ibid., pp. 162-4. S e e : A . L e m a i r e , Les lois fondamentales de la monarchic franqaise d'apres les theoriciens de Vancien regime ( P a r i s , 1 9 0 7 ) ; E . C a r c a s s o n n e , Montesquieu et le probleme de la constitution franqaise au XVHIe siecle ( P a r i s , 1 9 2 7 ) ; a n d R . B i c k a r t , Les parlements et la notion de souverainete nationale au XVHIe siecle ( P a r i s , 1 9 3 2 ) .


35

judges were accused of expanding the scope of the fundamental laws as part of a premeditated campaign to fetter royal power. In their many remonstrances delivered to the king after 1750, the magistrates referred constantly to the need for a new law to be registered voluntarily before it could be considered legally binding. Equally disturbing to Louis XV was the sight of the Parlement of Paris claiming not only to be the legitimate descendant of the assemblies called by the Frankish kings, but also to form the head of a single national tribunal which included the princes, peers, and the members of the provincial parlements. Those who have favoured the theory of an aristocratic reaction have had no difficulty in integrating these constitutional claims into their arguments, seeing this as no more than a rhetorical veil cast around purely selfish motives. Michel Antoine, whose criticisms of the magistrates know no bounds, has recently described them as 'leaguers and frondeurs' involved in a cynical and hypocritical campaign to usurp royal power.31 Few outside France would now subscribe to such a blanket condemnation, and instead there has been considerable debate about the origins and consequences of parlementaire theories, language, and protest. According to the classic works of Elie Carcassonne and Daniel Mornet, French magistrates were increasingly influenced by the wider intellectual currents of the century.32 Despite their notorious public hostility to the philosophes, whose books they regularly burned, the judges nevertheless borrowed extensively from their writings and, above all, from Montesquieu, who had served as a president in the Parlement of Bordeaux. Through their published remonstrances, the judges thus helped to spread the spirit of enlightened criticism and disrespect for established authority which paved the way to 1789. Doubts have, however, arisen about the existence of this direct correlation between the Enlightenment and the ideas promoted by the judges. Much is now known about the origins of the constitutional arguments developed by Parisian magistrates 31

32

M. Antoine, 'La monarchic absolue' in Baker (ed.), Political culture, p. 20, and Louis XV, pp. 567-610. Carcassonne, Montesquieu, pp. 261-96, and D. Mornet, Les origines intellectuelles de la revolution frangaise (4th edn, Paris, 1947), pp. 434~5- Mornet also believed that the magistrates were protecting their own interests by using the language of the philosophes.

36


during the reign of Louis XV, and many of their ideas came from a somewhat unlikely quarter. In a brilliant piece of historical detective work, Dale Van Kley succeeded in identifying a network of Jansenist magistrates and lawyers and examined their role during the troubled years of the 1750s and 1760s. The result was a fascinating account of how the Jansenists plotted and ultimately achieved the expulsion of their ancient enemies, the Jesuits.33 Moreover, the need to defend themselves against persecution from ultramontane bishops forced the Jansenists to seek support in the Parlement of Paris. After 1730, when the government of Louis XV increasingly sided with the clergy, the Jansenists began to develop constitutional theories based upon the political role of the judges which were corrosive of both ecclesiastical and secular authority.34 Van Kley's work has inspired a significant amount of research into the effects of Jansenist political theory, much of which adds support to his conclusions. In an effort to trace the origins of their ideas, Caroll Joynes has emphasised the importance of the conciliarist doctrines in Jansenist thought.35 Appealing to a future church council was always a potential option for those condemned or threatened by papal authority, and in March 1717 many had done just that as part of their resistance to the Bull Unigenitus. If conciliar arguments could be used to oppose the sovereign authority of the Pope, then they could also be adapted to resist the king. Just as authority in the church was invested in the body of the faithful, so too sovereignty in the secular sphere lay with the nation, not the crown. Jansenists were thus developing a new secular ideology hostile to the traditional theory of monarchical absolutism. An alternative view has been advanced by Catherine Maire, who has cast doubt upon the existence of such a straightforward link between conciliarism and Jansenist political ideology. She has argued that the key to understanding Jansenist D. Van Kley, The Jansenists and the expulsion of the Jesuits from France, 1757-1765 (New

Haven, 1975). Amongst the many works of Dale Van Kley relating to Jansenist political thought are his The Damiens affair and the unraveling of the ancien regime, 1750-1770 (Princeton, 1984),

and 'The Jansenist constitutional legacy in the French prerevolution' in Baker (ed.), Political culture, pp. 169-201.

D. C. Joynes, 'Jansenists and ideologues: opposition theory in the parlement of Paris, 1750-1775', unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of Chicago, 1981).


37

constitutional arguments is to be found in the interaction between figurist theologians,36 such as Jean-Baptiste Le Sesne des Menilles d'Etemare and Parisian lawyers as they sought to defend themselves against official persecution during the controversy provoked by the alleged miracles of deacon Paris (1727-32).37 Yet, whatever the disagreements about the origins of these ideas, the importance of Jansenists in supplying the Parlement of Paris with constitutional arguments is unquestioned. It has even been argued that the religious quarrels of the 1750s were more important in undermining respect for the crown than the more famous criticisms of the philosopkes.38

There can be no doubt that a coterie of Jansenist magistrates existed within the Parlement of Paris, and this study will demonstrate how they were able to exercise such a profound influence over their colleagues.39 As a group, the Jansenists were constantly to the fore in the assemblies of the Parlement, and through an inspired combination of planning and persistence they succeeded in persuading an often reluctant court to intervene on behalf of their persecuted brethren. Their ascendancy was a permanent feature of the period between 1750 and the expulsion of the Jesuit order in 1764. Thereafter, the strength of the Jansenists in the Parlement gradually waned, although Maupeou's coup provided something of an Indian summer for the parti janseniste as a whole. Jansenist lawyers such as Louis-Adrien Le Paige, Claude Mey, and Gabriel-Nicolas Maultrot played a leading role in the opposition to the chancellor, penning many of the more radical tracts which emerged during the pamphlet war that followed his reforms.40 Yet, by the time the Parlement was recalled from exile in November 1774, the parti janseniste, within 36

37

Defined by C. Maire, 'Port-Royal. La fracture janseniste', in P. Nora (ed.), Les lieux de memoire, III: Les France (Paris, 1990), pp. 471-529, esp. 488, as reading events in the history of the church by 'leur figuration prophetique dans les livres saints'. C. Maire, 'L'eglise et la nation. Du depot de la verite au depot des lois: la trajectoire janseniste au XVIIIe siecle', Annales ESC 5 (1991), 1177-1205. For a study of this affair see B. R. Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions, and ecclesiastical politics in early eighteenth-century

38

39 40

Paris (Princeton, 1978). J . W . M e r r i c k , The desacralization of the French monarchy in the eighteenth century ( B a t o n Rouge, 1990), pp. 49, 165-9. See also, Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 435-61. D . E c h e v e r r i a , The Maupeou revolution: a study of the history of libertarianism, France 17701774 (Baton Rouge, 1985), pp. 34-122.

38


the court itself, had been reduced to a shadow of its former self.41 These studies of Jansenism and its influence have clearly provided a significant contribution to our understanding of the development of eighteenth-century constitutional thought. Yet, it is important not to allow the Jansenist tail to wag the parlementaire dog. The Parlement was a court of law staffed by over two hundred individuals, of whom not more than fifteen or twenty could be described as Jansenist. Most would have been horrified by the accusation that they were seeking to usurp the king's authority. Moreover, the vast majority of Jansenist political theorists cited by authors such as Van Kley, Joynes, Echeverria, and Merrick were not themselves magistrates.42 It is also important to avoid describing the Jansenists within the court as ideologues, or even simply as an embattled and persecuted religious minority. Although the parti certainly contained zealots, including the misguided Louis-Basile Carre de Montgeron who presented a startled Louis XV with a copy of his book justifying the miracles of deacon Paris,43 others were distinctly more worldly. As noble members of a privileged and powerful institution, their social lives, families, and careers were inextricably linked to the world of Versailles and its governmental and administrative elite. There is, therefore, a need to study the role of Jansenist magistrates within the broader context of eighteenth-century society and politics. Interest in the role played by religious dissent in the formation of constitutional opposition to the monarchy has coincided with revisionist criticisms of the social interpretation of the revolution. The work of Frangois Furet44 has been particularly influential in this regard, inspiring a proliferation of new studies into the political culture of the ancien regime*5 The parlementaire crises of 41

42

43 44 45

See chapter 10 below. The work of the most authoritative historian of the Parlement under Louis XVI, Stone, Parlement of Paris, supports this conclusion. Such important authors as Le Paige, Mey, Maultrot, La Monnoye, and Lalource were advocates and not magistrates in the Parlement. Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions, p p . 3 7 9 - 8 1 . T h e classic text is F . F u r e t , Penser la revolution francaise ( P a r i s , 1978). The three volume collection edited by K. M. Baker, C. Lucas, and F. Furet, The French revolution and the creation of modern political culture (3 vols., London, 1987-9), is the

best example of this trend. Other important studies include: J. R. Censer and J. D. Popkin (eds.), Press and politics in pre-revolutionary France (Berkeley, Calif., 1987); K. M. Baker, Inventing the French revolution. Essays on French political culture in the eighteenth century


39

the third quarter of the century have been subject to fresh scrutiny, and renewed emphasis has been placed upon the language used by the judges and its effects upon public opinion. These ideas undoubtedly achieved an impressive circulation because of the illegal, but regular, publication of the Parlement's remonstrances. In order to counter the effects of these protests, the government published its own version of the constitution in a bid to capture public opinion. In addition, the many 'affairs' which brought the crown and its judges into conflict were accompanied by a lively and extensive pamphlet literature, all of which contributed to the climate of intellectual disenchantment with the monarchy. Yet, once again, there is a danger that an exaggerated emphasis upon new ideas or emerging ideologies will distort the aims and assumptions of both the crown and the Parlement. Political life in eighteenth-century France was not a dress-rehearsal for the revolution of 1789, yet too often it is depicted in terms of a constitutional war of words.46 This approach comes dangerously close to resurrecting a new version of the old two-dimensional view of politics. Instead of reactionary judges opposing a reforming bureaucracy, we are offered a clash between competing discourses or ideologies.47 While it would be foolish to deny that new and often radical constitutional arguments were advanced by Parisian magistrates during the second half of Louis X V s reign, it is nevertheless vital to place their ideas and the government response within a larger context. Ideas and arguments should not be treated as if they were independent of the individuals who articulated them, or as if they were unresponsive to changing circumstances. It is not enough to claim that the remonstrances written by Malesherbes, the political memoirs of Turgot, or a pamphlet by the royal apologist Jacob-Nicolas Moreau

46

47

(Cambridge, 1990); Merrick, Desacralization; and R. Chartier, The cultural origins of the French revolution ( L o n d o n , 1991). Examples of this approach include: Baker, Inventing the French revolution; J. D. Popkin, T h e prerevolutionary origins of political journalism' in Baker (ed.), Political culture, p. 208; and D. C. Joynes, 'Parlementaires, peers and the parti janseniste: the refusal of the sacraments and the revival of the ancient constitution in eighteenth-century France', Proceedings of the annual meeting of the Western Society for French History 8 ( 1 9 8 0 ) , 229. The work of K. M. Baker, 'French political thought at the accession of Louis XVI', Journal of Modern History 50 (1978), 279-303, provides an especially influential example of this trend.

40

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, ly'34-177'4

represented separate political discourses that were somehow set in stone.48 During the many quarrels that occurred after 1750, both the crown and the parlements altered their positions in order to adjust to the peculiar circumstances of an individual crisis, or to counter the charges of their opponents. Only by looking at the source of friction, the aims of the conflicting parties, and the audience upon whom they hoped to produce a response is it possible to understand the content and implications of that debate. The current historiography of the parlements can, therefore, be divided into three, largely independent camps. The first remains locked into the anachronistic trap of pitting a reforming monarchy against the vested interests of the sovereign courts. A second, far more subtle and still valuable model emphasises the unwritten codes and conventions that made government work. Crisis is the most overworked word in the historian's vocabulary, but revisionism can also be exaggerated. French government was not working well after 1750. It was instead in a state of almost constant disequilibrium, with religious, financial, and administrative crises succeeding each other with a frequency unknown since the time of cardinals Richelieu and Mazarin. Finally, a third approach stresses the dramatic political consequences of the parlementaire quarrels of mid-century, linking them to the decline of royal authority and, ultimately, to nothing less than the desacralisation of the monarchy. Convinced that the revolution marked the point at which Europeans crossed the threshold to a modern political culture, adherents of this theory have returned to the reigns of Louis XV and his successor in pursuit of the antecedents of the ideas and ideologies that shaped revolutionary behaviour. Too often, the context of ancien regime political conflict, its language, conduct, and resolution, has been lost in the process. in

Rather than try to 'invent the revolution', any study of political crisis during the eighteenth century must seek to comprehend 48

Ibid., and his Inventing the revolution, pp. 37, 228-35


41

the ancien regime. In the case of the Parlement of Paris, the starting point must be the comparatively harmonious relationship established between Louis XIV and his judges.49 It was long assumed that the king had succeeded in taming both unruly aristocrats and rebellious magistrates through a deliberate, authoritarian policy of centralisation.50 After the failure of the frondes, the great nobles were confined to the luxurious impotence of Versailles, while the judges were effectively muzzled by the edict of 1673, which only permitted remonstrances to be presented after the offending law had been registered. Deprived of the ability to hinder the progress of contentious legislation, the magistrates allegedly fell into a period of political torpor and were not to be reawoken until after the Sun King's death.51 Few would now subscribe to the idea that Louis XIV treated his nobility in such a ruthless fashion, or that his government represented a radical break with the past.52 There has instead been a reevaluation of the nature of French absolutism, with great emphasis placed upon the areas of joint interest and cooperation that existed between the crown and the nobility.53 Louis XIV secured the affection and obedience of his most powerful subjects because his policies reinforced their social preeminence and privileged position. Versailles was more than just a stage upon which a commanding monarch paraded his power, it was a living society central to government and the power-broking which animated the monarchy. This basic structure remained intact until the revolution, but during the eighteenth century the equilibrium was lost. 49

Excellent studies of the relationship between Louis XIV and the Parlements have been produced by a number of American scholars, notably A. N. Hamscher, The parlement of Paris after the fronde, 1653-1673 (Pittsburgh, 1976), and S. Kettering, Judicial politics and urban revolt in seventeenth-century France. The parlement of Aix, 1629-1659 (Princeton,

51 52 53

1978). For a thorough debunking of the older interpretation see R. Mettam, Power and faction in Louis XIV's France (Oxford, 1988), pp. 1-44. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. i-iii, and Shennan, Parlement of Paris, pp. 285-6. One notable exception is Francois Bluche, Louis XIV (Oxford, 1990). Amongst the many works that deal with this subject that of W. Beik, Absolutism and society in seventeenth-century France. State power and provincial aristocracy in Languedoc

(Cambridge, 1985), has been especially influential, but S. Kettering, Patrons, brokers and clients in seventeenth-century France (Oxford, 1986), and Mettam, Power and faction,

should also be consulted.

42


Louis XIV's attitude towards his judges has also been subject to fresh scrutiny.54 Once again, it is the amount of cooperation between the crown and the Parlement of Paris that is most striking. Louis XIV and his ministers were certainly anxious to curb the rebelliousness that had accompanied the judicial frondes, but there was more to their policy than repressive legislation. Instead, the government consciously sought to confine the judges to the legal sphere, and to minimise the opportunity for conflict. To achieve these ends required skilful management. Care had to be taken to defuse the many quarrels that inevitably arose from the tangled web of ancien regime jurisdictions. Both individual and corporate sensibilities needed soothing, and policies required explanation and, above all, consistency to inspire confidence. Mistakes were made, especially towards the end of the reign as the Unigenitus debacle amply testifies. Yet, taken as a whole, it is difficult to resist the conclusion that Louis XIV and his ministers achieved comparatively harmonious relations with the parlements because they excelled in the art of judicial politics. Viewed from a long-term perspective, the period of Louis XIV's personal rule was an aberration. As we have seen, the eighteenth century saw a marked deterioration in the political climate, and even the most cursory glance at the history of the first half of the previous century suggests that stability was difficult to achieve.55 The death of Louis XIV did not, however, shatter the governmental consensus immediately. Despite his moral lapses, the regent was an accomplished politician.56 His carefully controlled experiment with a form of conciliar government involving the court aristocrats known as the polysynodie did much to deflate their political ambitions.57 Moreover, in the light of the later difficulties caused by Unigenitus, his handling of the 54

55

H a m s c h e r , The parlement of Paris after the fronde, a n d his The conseil prive and the parlements, provides the most thorough and convincing analysis of the subject. In addition to the works of Kettering, Beik, and Mettam cited above, see: ; A. D. Lublinskaya, French absolutism: the crucial phase, i62O-i62g (Cambridge, 1968); L. A. Moote, The revolt of the judges: the parlement of Paris and the fronde, 1643-1652 (Princeton, 1971); and R. Bonney, Political change in France under Richelieu and Mazarin, 1624-1661

56

57

(Oxford, 1978). The works of J. H. Shennan, Philippe due d'Orleans (London, 1979), and J. Meyer, Le Regent (Paris, 1985), both offer a sympathetic assessment of the regent and his policies. Although superficially intended to make government more open, in reality it was tightly controlled by the regent and deprived of real power. In 1718, the experiment was abolished without protest.


43

religious crisis bequeathed by Louis XIV seems almost commendable. The reputation of the cardinal de Fleury, Louis XV's mentor and first minister between 1726 and 1743, has also been subject to favourable revision.58 Much has been made of the crisis of 1730-2, when Fleury and the Parlement of Paris clashed about the status of Unigenitus.59 His efforts to declare the Bull a law of church and state aroused fierce controversy, and, when he imposed a regulatory edict on the Parlement, reducing its scope for future protests, it provoked a judicial strike. As with an earlier edict of 1718, drafted by the regent, it was eventually withdrawn as part of the settlement that ended the crisis. Yet, although the conflicts of 1718 and 1730-2 were undoubtedly important, they should not obscure the fact that the first half of the eighteenth century saw few serious disputes between the crown and its judges. Once the dust from the crisis of 1730-2 had settled, the Parisian magistrates made few remonstrances criticising royal policy. Those issues that did produce disagreement were almost without exception the result of jurisdictional quarrels with either the king's councils or the ecclesiastical courts.60 Even the imposition of a new peacetime tax, the famous vingtieme, in 1749 failed to cause much of a stir.61 There is general agreement that this relatively peaceful scene was shattered by renewed feuding about the precise status of Unigenitus.62 Christophe de Beaumont, the pious but dogmatic archbishop of Paris, began a campaign of refusing the sacraments to known opponents of the Bull. Inspired by its traditional gallicanism and urged on by a vocal Jansenist minority, the Parlement of Paris intervened on behalf of the victims of episcopal zeal. Rather than impose his authority, Louis XV allowed his government to become polarised along similar lines, resulting in a weak and vacillating response that merely made matters worse. 58

59

60 61 62

Campbell, 'Fleury', and Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 265-352. For an earlier, less sympathetic, appraisal, see J. H. Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement of Paris under cardinal de Fleury', English Historical Review, 81 (1966), 520-42. Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions, provides the most thorough introduction. Recent works include: J. W. Merrick, ' "Disputes over words" and constitutional conflict in France, 1730-1732', French Historical Studies 14 (1986), 497-520; and Maire, 'L'eglise et le nation'. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. 303-83. Marion, Machault, pp. 50-6. With due respect to individual emphasis and nuance, this basic assumption is present in the works of, among others, Baker, Egret, Joynes, Merrick, and Van Kley.

44

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1*754-1774

The intention of this study is not to question the significance of these quarrels, but to resolve the fundamental riddle of why a political relationship constructed over several generations and conducted according to tacitly recognised rules could disintegrate so quickly. There was nothing new about Jansenism; it had been posing awkward problems for church and state since the 1630s.63 Nor was the Parlement of Paris suddenly innundated by Jansenists. The court had contained adherents of the sect since the middle of the seventeenth century.64 Yet, despite intermittent official persecution and wearisome theological bickering, previous crises had been overcome without the monarchy sustaining any permanent damage. That matters should have been so very different after 1750 suggests that the crown confronted more fundamental problems. In other words, the crisis caused by the refusal of the sacraments was a symbol of a deeper malaise, one that in the long term would threaten the very existence of the monarchy. By the third quarter of the eighteenth century, the absolute monarchy, or at least the model associated with Louis XIV, entered a period of terminal decline. When Louis XVI ascended to the throne in 1774, he faced a challenge far more profound than whether or not to recall the parlements. He needed nothing less than to reconstruct the consensus by which the monarchy ruled. In order to explain why the Parlement of Paris and the crown could drift into such a damaging conflict requires an analysis of how judicial politics functioned and an understanding of why the traditional mechanisms for resolving disagreement failed. In doing so, it may be possible not only to explain the causes and consequences of Maupeou's coup, but also to shed new light upon the later crisis that destroyed the ancien regime. 63

Amongst the many works dealing with the early history of Jansenism, the following are especially helpful: A . Gazier, Histoire general du mouvement janseniste depuis ses origines jusqu'a nos jours (2 vols., Paris, 1922); A . A d a m , Du mysticisme a la revolte. Les jansenistes du XVIIe siecle (Paris, 1968); a n d R. M . G o l d e n , The Godly rebellion. Parisian cures and the religious fronde, 1652-1662 ( C h a p e l Hill, 1981). 64 Hamscher, 'Social interpretation of early French Jansenism'.

CHAPTER 3

The king and his judges

LOUIS XV AND THE PROBLEMS OF GOVERNMENT In order to understand the politics of eighteenth-century France, it is necessary to reflect upon the nature of ancien regime society and government. Unfashionable though it may seem, the only starting place for such a study is with an assessment of the character and personality of the king. Louis XV was one of the most talented men to sit upon the French throne, handsome, intelligent, a skilled geographer and cultivated patron of the arts.1 In 1744, he had been acclaimed Louis He bien-aime" by a grateful people after his recovery from a serious illness while on campaign at Metz, and in the following year he was crowned by the laurels of victory after the battle of Fontenoy. The king's words to his ecstatic son after that costly battle bear eloquent testimony to his understanding and humanity. He declared: 'see what a victory costs . . . the blood of our enemies is always the blood of men. The true gloire is to spare it.'2 By his fortieth birthday, in February 1750, all seemed set for a long and glorious reign. Yet, like his predecessor, Louis XV died, in May 1774, unlamented. The king's own personal conduct played a significant part in his fall from grace. By behaving like one of his libertin courtiers, he made the mistake of thinking that a king of France was entitled to a private life. Aristocrats and even princes of the blood could consort with dancers from the opera, but the majesty of the throne was tarnished by his patronage of a private brothel in the pare aux cerfs. Worse was to follow, and in 1769 Louis XV made Mme du Barry, formerly a high-class courtesan, his official 1

2

Although this study criticises many of his conclusions, the work of Michel Antoine, Louis XV, provides a rich mine of information for any study of Louis and his reign. Antoine offers a sympathetic and often convincing portrait of the king's character and personality. Ibid., p. 387.

45

46


mistress. These debaucheries appeared to confirm widespread rumours that the king failed to take his responsibilities seriously, but it was the weakness of his government rather than any moral failings which did most to undermine the reputation of Louis XV. Historians had long considered Louis XV to be a lazy, incapable monarch, lacking the conscientious attitude to his governmental duties that had been such a feature of his greatgrandfather's reign.3 It is an interpretation that is no longer tenable.4 Like Louis XIV, he had been guided during his early years by a wily old cleric, cardinal de Fleury, who had governed as de facto first minister between 1726 and his death in 1743.5 Thereafter, following the precedent of 1661, the thirty-three year old monarch had declared his intention to rule alone. Despite later criticisms of his conduct, the king maintained a strict personal routine, holding meetings of the Conseil d'En-haut every Wednesday and Sunday and the Conseil des Depeches on either Friday or Saturday.6 That he took an active and important part in those proceedings is beyond question, and his correspondence reveals an informed and critical spirit. In addition to the military and diplomatic matters which provided the staple diet of eighteenth-century rulers, Louis XV was fully conversant with religious, financial, and judicial affairs.7 Informed commentators such as the secretary of state for foreign affairs, the due d'Aiguillon, noted that at meetings of the council it was frequently the king who produced the most sensible policy or clear analysis.8 The tragedy of Louis XV was that he lacked the confidence, or even arrogance, necessary to follow his own instincts and genu3

4

5

6

7

8

See, for example, H. Carre, Le regne de Louis XV, 1715-1774, ed. E. Lavisse (Paris, 1909), and G. P. Gooch, Louis XV. The monarchy in decline (London, 1956). Thanks mainly to the work of Antoine, Louis XV, and his earlier Conseil du roi, pp. 598-628. For a full discussion of Fleury's government, see Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement of Paris', and Campbell, 'Fleury'. The work of Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 180-202, 444-6, and his Conseil du roi, pp. 598628, is indispensable. For a representative sample, see: Correspondance de Louis XV et du marechal de Noailles, ed. Rousset, (Paris, 1865); D. Ozanam and M. Antoine (eds.), Correspondance secrete du comte de Broglie avec Louis XV, 1756-1774 (2 vols., Paris, 1956-61); BN, NAF 6498, fol. 187, Louis XV to Bertin; AN, AP 162 mi 1, dos. 4, correspondence between Louis XV and chancellor Lamoignon; and AN K 703, correspondence between Louis XV and the due d'Orleans. Quoted in Antoine, Louis XV, p. 411.


47

inely rule alone. It was the fundamental cause of the difficulties that followed. The king's personality had a significant effect upon the behaviour of his ministers and the other members of the royal council. Chosen individually by the king, and holding their position as a result of his favour, there was no sense in which they were expected to behave as a team, or respect modern concepts of collective responsibility. Rivalries and jealousy amongst members of the council were rife, and feuding between different factions a fact of daily life. None of this was new, and under Louis XIV the competition between Colbert and Louvois was enough to match anything that followed.9 These quarrels were only prejudicial to government if the king was unable to provide a firm and consistent direction to his affairs. Here was the source of Louis X V s difficulties because throughout his personal reign he allowed, and perhaps even fostered, divisions within his council. This undoubtedly offered a useful independence and potentially the ability to chart a course of his own. Yet the king failed to take the helm, and far from providing a range of competing options, the splits in the council became a source of weakness. Without a clear sense of purpose, the king switched his support from one side to another, occasionally with dramatic consequences. Two classic examples were the dismissal of senior and experienced ministers such as Machault d'Arnouville and the comte d'Argenson in February 1757, and the dues de Choiseul and Praslin in December 1770. Such violent swings of royal favour were comparatively rare, but more pernicious was Louis XV's tendency to oscillate in his support of the different factions within his council. On key issues such as financial or religious policy, he was capable of alarming changes of position, usually as a result of giving in to pressure from within the court or even his own government. Any serious hope of reform was one of the first casualties of royal weakness because any minister brave enough to tackle vested interests, whether it be those of the clergy, judiciary, or nobility as a whole, was certain to run into opposition from these sources. Secure in the knowledge that the king was susceptible to pressure, 9

Amongst the many accounts of the reign, J. Wolf, Louis XIV (London, 1968), Mettam, Power and faction, and P. R. Campbell, Louis XIV (London, 1993), are especially helpful.

48


ministerial rivals could criticise or obstruct measures with the aim of weakening the credit of an opponent. A good example was provided by the efforts of Machault d'Arnouville, controleur general of finances, to impose his famous vingtieme in 1749.10 It is well known that the clergy mounted a vigorous and ultimately successful campaign to block his efforts to tax church lands, but they were ably assisted by other ministers, including the comte d'Argenson, minister of war.11 The entire personal reign was filled with ministerial struggles for power and influence, and the feuds between d'Argenson and Machault were followed by others involving marechal de Belle-Isle and due de Choiseul, or chancellor Maupeou and the due d'Aiguillon. The net result was a government pulling in several directions simultaneously, and one which was ultimately unable to bring its plans, whatever their merits, to fruition.12 The squabbling amongst members of the council was exacerbated by Louis XV's willingness to allow the aristocratic court families to enter the major ministries as secretaries of state for war, the navy, foreign affairs, and the maison du roi.13 Under Louis XIV, these positions had been monopolised by the great robe dynasties of Colbert, Le Tellier, and Phelypeaux, and a strong sense of continuity had been maintained throughout the first half of the eighteenth century. The classic example was provided by the comte de Saint-Florentin, made due de La Vrilliere in 1770, who was secretary of state from 1725 until Louis XV's death in 1774. Saint-Florentin was a member of the Phelypeaux family, as was the comte de Maurepas, minister of the marine from 1723 until 1749, and both men had inherited their offices. Although the system of survivance, with senior ministerial offices passing from father to son over several generations, 10

11 12

13

Despite the importance of this episode, it has not been seriously investigated since the study of Marion, Machault. Ibid., pp. 303-29. The problem was, if anything, worse under Louis XVI, see: Dakin, Turgot, pp. 20730, 252-65; M. Price, 'The comte de Vergennes and the baron de Breteuil: French politics and reform in the reign of Louis XVT, unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of Cambridge, 1989); and J. Hardman, Louis XVI (London, 1993). J. Hardman, 'Ministerial politics in France from the accession of Louis XVI to the assembly of notables, 1774-1787', unpublished D.Phil, thesis (University of Oxford, 1972), pp. 36-92, has offered an interesting examination of the role of the secretaries of state during Louis XVFs reign, and many of his observations shed light on the government of his predecessor.


49

seems peculiar, even iniquitous, to modern eyes, it had certain advantages. Traditions of service and vital knowledge could be naturally transferred, and an all important sense of continuity maintained. Moreover, when the succession to a ministerial office was clearly fixed within a particular family, and the king could be trusted to keep his word, as under Louis XIV, the incentive to cabal and intrigue against the incumbent was reduced. As late as 1757, it was possible for the marquis de Paulmy to succeed his disgraced uncle, the comte d'Argenson, as secretary of state for war. Thereafter the practice effectively died out, and ministerial office was increasingly coveted by the aristocratic elite of Versailles. The first real change came in 1757 when abbe de Bernis was named secretary of state for foreign affairs, but it was marechal de Belle-Isle who did most to break down the old barriers.14 In 1758, with France floundering ever more deeply in the mire of the Seven Years War, Louis XV turned to Belle-Isle's military and administrative experience to reestablish some form of order in the government's conduct of the war. The elderly marechal was initially reluctant to compromise his honour by accepting the office of secretary of state which he believed was beneath him. For one of Us grands to be a member of the king's council was one thing, but to accept the bureaucratic connotations of ministerial office very much another.15 Bernis, who in March 1758 was at the height of his favour, used his influence to overcome Belle-Isle's aversion. Once the marechal was in place, the floodgates opened. In December 1758, the comte de Stainville, the future due de Choiseul, was appointed secretary of state for foreign affairs, and two years later, following the death of BelleIsle, he was joined by his cousin, Praslin. While this marked an incredible triumph for the Choiseul clan, it also firmly established the right of Us grands to occupy ministerial office. The playwright Charles Colle, writing in his diary, reported a conversation he had overheard involving the duchesse de Praslin, wife of the minister, which neatly captured the essence of the change: ' "it is done", she said, "these posts have passed 14

15

Ibid., pp. 51-7 and cardinal de Bernis, Memoires et lettres de Franqois-Joachim de Pierre

cardinal de Bernis, 1715-1758, ed. F. Masson (2 vols., Paris, 1878), II, p. 61. Belle-Isle conveniently forgot that his grandfather was none other than Nicolas Fouquet, Louis X I V ' s ill-fated surintendant des finances.

50

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1774.

into our hands," meaning by that the grands seigneurs•, "these petit bourgeois will meddle no more"'. 16 It is difficult to tell whether her prejudices were widely shared, but she had certainly identified a serious shift of power within the governing elite. By allowing the grands seigneurs to gain control of these offices, Louis XV unwittingly signed the death warrant of French absolutism. Intrigue was the daily reality of life at Versailles, but these ministerial offices became the chief focus of competing factional groups because of the immense scope for both the receipt and dispensation of patronage. Destabilising the ministry was the means by which ambitious courtiers could hope to fulfil their dreams of power, and with the fickleness of Louis XV's character being well known there was always the chance of success. Thus, throughout the 1760s all informed observers talked of the battles raging between supporters and opponents of the Choiseul.17 Graver still were the effects of placing these aristocrats in charge of the vital service ministries which consumed the overwhelming majority of the state budget. Imbued with a strong sense of military honour, and frequently with a disdain for financial prudence, they were deaf to calls for economy or the reduction of expenses. Moreover, as the principal beneficiaries of the pensions and graces which flowed from the royal treasury, they had no interest in curbing abuse. Any finance minister brave enough to consider serious reform, and Machault, Bertin, and Terray deserve to be considered in that light, risked confrontation with their ministerial colleagues. Given that between 1750 and 1774, the controleur general was, without exception, drawn from the milieu of Parisian financial circles or the robe, they were at an immediate disadvantage. Surrounded by powerful courtiers, who were not only thoroughly conversant with the mores of Versailles, but also backed by friends and family, the would-be reformer either threw caution and career to the wind, or he made the necessary compro16

17

C. Colle, Journal et memoires de Charles Colle sur les hommes de lettres, les ouvrages dramatiques et les evenements les plus memorables du regne de Louis XV, 1748-1777 (3 vols., Paris, 1868),

III, pp. 516-17. A sample of contemporary opinion includes: J. M. Augeard, Memoires secrets de J.M. Augeard, secretaire des commandements de la reine Marie-Antoinette, 1760-1800, ed. E. Bavoux (Paris, 1866), p. 29, and due de Croy, Journal inedit du due de Croy, 1718-1784, ed.

vicomte de Grouchy and P. Cottin (4 vols., Paris, 1906-7), II, pp. 360, 372-4. The rivalry between Choiseul's supporters and their opponents is discussed in detail below.


51

mise. Whatever his choice, the result was the same - reform was obstructed or still-born. Once established as a secretary of state, the courtier expected and received rewards in proportion to his status. Colle, when referring to the takeover of these offices, put it succinctly: 'so much the worse for the administration if that happens. The robe are more learned than the people of quality and they steal less'.18 Although rather jaundiced, his comment contained more than a hint of truth in the sense that the Choiseul in particular were showered with marks of royal favour. Both the comte de Stainville and his cousin were elevated to the distinguished rank of due et pair, as the dues de Choiseul and Praslin respectively, and they both received lucrative offices and pensions. There was nothing new about a French king rewarding his subjects in such a conspicuous fashion. But by concentrating so much power in the hands of one family, the king exacerbated the rivalries which were so apparent in the last decade of his reign. Finally, by allowing the grands seigneurs to hold ministerial office, Louis XV unintentionally compromised his own authority. When the king tired of the services of one of his secretaries of state, disgrace from the court ensued. Comte de Maurepas, who fell foul of Mme de Pompadour in 1749, was exiled to Bourges and not allowed to live on his own estates.19 More fortunate, Machault and d'Argenson were immediately exiled to their chateaux after having been dismissed in 1757. While some might regret their absence, they could quit Versailles without undue disturbance of the social or political scene. The disgrace of a grand seigneur was a very different matter. With friends and relatives occupying important positions at court, it was inevitable that their fall would polarise and even embitter relations amongst factional or family groups. Thus, when the dues de Choiseul and Praslin were exiled in December 1770, a mini-fronde ensued. Over two hundred members of the high aristocracy made the pilgrimage to Chanteloup near Amboise, while sympathy for the fallen minister led many to flatter themselves with the title of 18

19

Colle, Journal et memoires, III, p. 517. Similar comments were made by G. Senac de Meilhan, Le gouvernement, les moeurs et les conditions en France avant la revolution, avec le caractere des principaux personnages du regne de Louis XVI (Hamburg, 1795), pp. 342-4. Antoine, Louis XV, p . 613.

52

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1*754-1774

'the opposition5.20 By the end of his reign, Louis XV had allowed the high aristocracy to reassert their claim to control the direction of government that many believed it had lost during the rule of the sun king.21 The political situation Louis XV bequeathed to his grandson was in this, as in so many other respects, more complicated than the one he had inherited from cardinal de Fleury.

Contemporaries were well aware of the malaise at the heart of government. The marquis d'Argenson, former minister of foreign affairs, who was an astute, if far from impartial commentator on affairs of state, was comparing Louis XV with Henri III as early as 1753.22 As a former secretary of state, he was well aware of the chronic indecision which prevented the monarch from governing, and he argued that if the kingdom was to avoid a period of 'decadence' Louis XV, like Louis XIII before him, needed a first minister. Later both Cardinal de Bernis and the due de Choiseul would come to a similar conclusion, but they ran into the hostility of a king who was jealous of the appearance, if not the reality, of power.23 What d'Argenson and Bernis had both realised was that the conciliar system could only function when there was a firm central figure who could be relied upon to take advice, but whose final decision was clear and, other than in exceptional circumstances, irreversible. Ideally, the role was filled by the king, but in the absence of a Henri IV or Louis XIV, the only viable alternative was a first minister. Cardinals Richelieu, Mazarin, and Fleury had all demonstrated that a royal favourite, consistently supported by his master, could govern the country effectively, and in the next reign Maurepas would play a similar role.24 Admittedly, Louis XV did allow the due de Choiseul to 20

21

22

23 24

M a r q u i s e d u Deffand, Lettres de la marquise du Deffand a H. Walpole, 1759-1775 ( 4 v o l s . , Paris, 1824), II, pp. 248-9. This argument has been put with considerable force by Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771'. Marquis d'Argenson, Journal et memoires du marquis d'Argenson, ed. E. J. B. Rathery (9

vols., Paris, 1859-67), VIII, pp. 197-9, 2 I ° -

Bernis, Memoires et lettres, II, pp. 81-7. The works of Hardman, 'Ministerial polities', pp. 19-79, BreteuiP, are vital to any discussion of these issues.

anc

^ Price, 'Vergennes and


53

accumulate abundant patronage and a near monopoly of key ministerial offices between 1761 and 1770. Yet both the title of first minister and the crucial right to sit in on the work of other ministers with the king eluded him. Without that power, the scope for intrigue or manipulation was increased and even a figure as powerful as Choiseul eventually succumbed. If Louis was sufficiently jealous of his authority to refuse the temptation to appoint a first minister after Fleury's death, he was prepared to abrogate enormous powers of patronage to his mistresses, especially the marquise de Pompadour. A young woman blessed with both great beauty and intelligence, Jeanne Antoinette Poisson was born into a family well connected to the Parisian financial elite, and she was married to a Farmer General, Charles Guillaume Le Normant d'Etiolles.25 The intrigues that led her to Louis XV's bed are shrouded in mystery, but in September 1745 she was presented to the court and installed at Versailles as the newly created marquise de Pompadour and the king's maitresse en titre. The place of official mistress was a well-established feature of the French court and the occupant enjoyed the privilege of her own apartments and household.26 There was never a shortage of candidates for the post, and the aristocratic women of the court, and their families, coveted the wealth and power it could bring. With the lusty Louis constantly besieged by her rivals, Pompadour's position could never be entirely secure. Yet her character, and the deep mutual affection that bound her to the king, ensured that she overcame the vicissitudes of court life, and that she was even capable of surviving the cessation of their physical relationship in the early 1750s. When she died a premature death in 1764, it was as the undisputed mistress of Versailles. Pompadour left behind a deserved reputation as a patroness of the arts, but her impact upon French government had been less kind. By the very nature of her intimate relationship with the king, she was in a unique position from which to petition for favours The definitive biography of the marquise de Pompadour is still to be written, but the works of E. Campardon, Madame de Pompadour et la cour de Louis XV (Paris, 1867), P. de Nolhac, Mme de Pompadour et la politique d'apres des documents nouveaux (Paris, 1948),

and Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 493-510, should all be consulted. The role of an official mistress is discussed by C. Vatel, Histoire de Mme du Barry (3 vols., Paris, 1883), I, pp. 168-9, 2O2«

54


and advancement in order to reward her clientele. Ministers such as Machault, Bernis, and above all Choiseul, owed their success, in good measure, to the patronage and protection of the king's mistress, as did less well known figures such as the garde des sceaux, Berryer.27 Pompadour's power lay in her ability to persuade Louis XV to appoint her candidates to key offices, even when it was against his better judgement. She was, for example, instrumental in overcoming the monarch's aversion to the comte de Stainville, the future due de Choiseul, and she helped place him in the coveted ambassadorship at Rome.28 Patronage was the source of her influence, and it extended into areas such as military commands, benefices, diplomatic and administrative posts, as well as the pensions, sinecures, and financial gifts so important to the aristocracy generally. Whether they admired her or not, courtiers were united in describing the marquise as the 'principal canal' to grace and favour.29 The extent to which her domain included the daily work of government remains a source of controversy, but, if anything, there are grounds for believing that it has been underestimated.30 Unlike Mme de Maintenon, she never enjoyed the privilege of seeing government business conducted in her chambers. Her effective power was, however, greater than Louis XIV's favourite because ministers discussed their affairs with her before presenting them to the council.31 Pompadour was actively involved in the planning and execution of domestic and military policy with those in her confidence and there can be little doubt that 27

28

29

30

31

Marion, Machault, pp. 303-4; Bernis, Memoires et lettres, I, pp. 195, 206-7; due de Choiseul, Memoires du due de Choiseul, 1719-1785, ed. F. Calmettes (Paris, 1904), pp. 69-85Bernis, Memoires et lettres, I, p. 207, and Choiseul, Memoires, pp. 86—93. These events have been analysed by R. Butler, Choiseul (Oxford, 1980), pp. 993-9. The term was used by the prince de Montbarey, Memoires, ministre, secretaire d'etat sous Louis XVI (3 vols., Paris, 1826-7), I, pp. 140-1, but similar comments were made by, among others, the due de Croy, Journal inedit, II, p. 138. Cobban, A history of modern France, I, pp. 73, 89, claimed that her 'political influence has been greatly exaggerated'. Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 498-9, on the other hand, recognises her importance to the flow of court patronage, but he fails to analyse her political role in any detail. This is made very clear by the correspondence of Bernis, Memoires et lettres, II, pp. 60-250. When discussing the role of the mistress, Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 265, made similar comments and claimed that the austere chancellor Lamoignon had to be ordered by Louis XV to discuss public affairs with Pompadour.


55

32

her involvement carried weight. Clearly, it would be a mistake to assume that the credit of the favourite remained constant, she too was subject to the pressures caused by the shifting kaleidoscope of court faction, but her political strength undoubtedly grew as the years progressed, and after the fall of d'Argenson and Machault in February 1757, she exercised immense influence upon the conduct of government. Perhaps her greatest triumph was the conclusion of the Treaty of Versailles in May 1756, which cemented the controversial alliance between France and the traditional Austrian foe.33 Pompadour had been involved in the negotiations from the very beginning, and the conclusion of the alliance consolidated her position by making her appear as a bulwark of the new diplomatic system. Nor was this an isolated incident, and her special position allowed her to play a variety of roles, including acting as arbiter in disputes with the Parlement of Paris.34 Finally, Pompadour's significance can be illustrated by the decision of provincial governors and commandants to report not only to the royal council, but also directly to her.35 Pompadour wielded great political influence, although Louis X V s predilection for rivalry amongst those competing for his favours meant that even the marquise could rarely persuade him to dismiss those she disliked. From 1745 until 1757, she was constantly at odds with the comte d'Argenson, who enjoyed both the confidence of the king and the support of parti devot grouped around the dauphin and the other members of the royal family.36 Louis XV tolerated their bickering, and it was only the exceptional circumstances following Damien's failed assassination attempt that allowed Pompadour to achieve d'Argenson's 32 33

34

35

36

The comments of the due de Croy , Journal inedit, I, pp. 358-9, are especially instructive. R . W a d d i n g t o n , Louis XV et le renversement des alliances. Preliminaires de la guerre de sept ans, 1754-1756 (Paris, 1896), pp. 287-99, and Bernis, Memoires et lettres, I, pp. 222-77. This is revealed by the detailed conversation recorded by the respected parlementaire, Durey de Meinieres, who met the marquise in a bid to solve the crisis of 1756—7, see Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. xxxiii-xl. See the letters of the due de Randan, lieutenant general of Franche-Comte, cited in Estignard, Le parlement de Franche-Comte, I, pp. 287-9, a n d those of the dues d'Aiguillon and Fitz-James, respectively commandants of Brittany and Languedoc, AN BB30 1, fol. 1, d'Aiguillon to Pompadour, 1756; and BN Ms Fr 6834, fol. 103. For some contemporary comments on these feuds see: president de Henault, Memoires du president de Henault, ed. baron de Vigan (Paris, 1855), pp. 199-201; Luynes, Memoires, XIV, p. 222; and Croy, Journal inedit, I, p. 297.

56


disgrace.37 It was a pattern repeated after her death, when her successor, Mme du Barry, was engaged in an even more ferocious conflict with the due de Choiseul. Once again, it was only the peculiar circumstances of the crisis of December 1770 that toppled the offending minister. There were, therefore, limits to the power exercised by Louis XV's mistress, but her presence added an additional dimension to the political life of Versailles. Courtiers and ministers alike were forced to take positions relative to the reigning favourite, and her goodwill represented a potential source of patronage or a tool of intrigue. Government weakness and the pressures of factionalism were responsible for many of the problems that afflicted Louis XV's government, but even when they have recognised the existence of these factors historians have rarely considered how they affected the daily routine of the Parisian magistrates. Instead, there has been a tendency to retreat into the comforting, but ultimately false dichotomy of crown versus the Parlement, whether in its traditional guise as the reforming monarchy confronting selfish magistrates, or the current emphasis on an ideological clash of ideas. While both interpretations contain more than a grain of truth, they nevertheless simplify politics to an alarming degree and fail to take into account the realities of eighteenth-century French society. Only a tiny minority, perhaps 5,000-10,000 individuals amongst a population of approximately 25 million, had the opportunity to participate in the cabals, debates, and quarrels that agitated Versailles and the parlements after 1750. Sharing a common culture, education, and frequently family ties, their relationships were more complicated than a simple reading of royal edicts or parlementaire remonstrances implies. Understanding judicial politics as it was actually practiced requires an analysis of the Parlement's role in government, and an explanation of how the world of Versailles affected the activities of the judges. J U D I C I A L P O L I T I C S : THE RULES OF THE GAME Under Louis XV, judicial politics was conducted within a surprisingly broad and flexible framework. It was the Parlement's rights 37

Van Kley, Damiens, provides an impressive study of the assassination attempt and its consequences, but the effect on the Parlement is discussed in greater detail below.


57

of registration and remonstrance which provided the inspiration for its actions. Laws issued by the king were sent to the Parlement, and after serious consideration were either registered or gave rise to remonstrances. Should the king prove to be deaf to their appeals, the protest could be repeated but, if necessary, the king could try to end further dispute by holding a lit de justice. Here, in essence, was the source of the Parlement's involvement in the political life of the kingdom. Its participation was limited to questioning or delaying royal legislation, and its actions were justified by convention and were not based upon a written constitution. Louis XIV had provided a clear demonstration of this in 1673, when he obliged the Parlement to register legislation before remonstrances could be submitted.38 His decision was, admittedly, a precaution implemented at the beginning of the Dutch War (1672-8), but it remained in force until 1715 when it was finally reversed by the regent. While it is true that eighteenth-century writers referred endlessly to the fundamental laws of the kingdom* these, when they were specified at all, amounted to little more than a recognition of the Salic law of succession and the obligation of the French king to uphold the Catholic religion.39 Under Louis XIV, much of the interaction between the government and its judges was conducted through personal, often unofficial contacts, and disputes were kept well away from public gaze.40 After 1715, the regent's decision to allow remonstrances to be presented before the registration of laws and edicts broadened the scope for political debate.41 Yet, nothing was preordained, and from 1715 until 1771, when chancellor Maupeou sought to wipe the slate clean, the relationship 38

39

40

41

Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 266-8, has demonstrated that the 1673 edict was considerably less coercive than had previously been thought. For the earlier view, see Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. i-iii. It was not until the peculiar circumstances of the crisis of May 1788 that the Parlement of Paris finally set forth its interpretation of the fundamental laws. H a m s c h e r , The parlement of Paris after the fronde, p p . 1 1 9 - 2 0 2 , a n d h i s The conseil prive and the parlements, p p . 2 1 - 3 3 . The rethinking of parlementaire politics has been a feature of Anglo-American scholarship during the last thirty years. See, among others: Shennan, 'The political role of the Parlement of Paris'; Doyle, 'The parlements of France'; J. M. J. Rogister, 'Conflict and harmony in eighteenth-century France: a reappraisal of the nature of the relations between the crown and the parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1730-1754', unpublished D.Phil, thesis (University of Oxford, 1972); Hamscher, The parlement of Paris after the fronde; and Stone, Parlement of Paris.

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between the crown and the Parlement continued to change. In reality, the system of remonstrances, registration, and the occasional lit de justice was only the public facade of politics. Behind it lay a far more complex and intricate world of unofficial contacts, debates, and factional intrigue. Of these the most significant were the debates held in the Parlement. It was here that the judges discussed, amongst other things, new laws, controversial government policies, and the behaviour of other courts or the clergy. In these often heated exchanges, the parlementaires could express themselves far more freely than in their remonstrances, which were traditionally written in a rather stuffy, obsequious style. Although officeholders and not representative politicians, they nevertheless formed into fluid blocks or partis defined by anything from personal ambition to their religious convictions. Studying the aims, organisation, and results of these debates gives a far clearer picture of how judicial politics was actually conducted, and it also helps to explain how the magistrates interacted with the court and ministerial politics of Versailles. It is, therefore, necessary to examine how the daily political life of the Parlement functioned and how its members could enter into both cooperation and conflict with the crown.

Harmonious relations between the crown and the Parlement of Paris required lines of communication that were clearly and consistently available. Responsibility for ensuring that this was the case rested with the chancellor. As head of the judiciary, a post he held for life, the chancellor had a unique place in the public life of the monarchy. His office was associated with the dignity of distinguished predecessors such as L'Hopital, Seguier and, most recently, Henry Frangois d'Aguesseau.42 D'Aguesseau had, by the time of his retirement in November 1750, acquired immense prestige, and his knowledge of the sovereign courts had been a significant cause of their relative calm after 1732.43 His 42

43

F . M o n n i e r , Le chancelier d'Aguesseau, sa conduite et ses ide'es politiques ( P a r i s , i 8 6 0 ) , offers a useful introduction to his career, as does Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 334-44. After the furore surrounding cardinal Fleury's attempt to have the papal Bull Unigenitus made a law of church and state in 1730-2, the Parlements posed few problems for Louis XV, even during the long War of the Austrian Succession, see Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 45-9.


59

successor was Guillaume de Lamoignon de Blancmesnil, a talented jurist and first president of the Parisian Cour des Aides.*4 A pious man, ultramontane in his sympathies, he did not leave a reputation to compare with the gifted d'Aguesseau, and some contemporary observers were cutting in their assessment of his abilities.45 Yet it is necessary to be sceptical of such verdicts because from the outset Lamoignon was handicapped by Louis XV's decision to separate his chancellor from the seals. The king was under pressure from Mme de Pompadour, who was campaigning on behalf of Machault, and from the parti devot, which was anxiously seeking to prevent the consolidation of Machault who was then engaged in a fierce battle to curb the fiscal privileges of the clergy.46 Louis sought to balance the conflicting parties and produced what would prove to be a damaging compromise. Machault was given the seals, but Lamoignon was appointed chancellor. Although it was not the first time that the two offices had been separated, the decision undoubtedly weakened the position of the chancellor at a critical moment. Following Machault's disgrace in 1757, the seals passed through a succession of different hands, including the king's own, before they were finally reunited with the office of chancellor after Maupeou's appointment in September 1768. By weakening the authority of the chancellor, the king was unable to capitalise upon the dignity and respect of the office in his management of the judiciary. Worse still, the division of authority meant that daily communications with the sovereign courts could become tangled. It is true that the letters patent conferring the seals upon Machault empowered him with 'all the functions which depend on the charge, and with like power and authority which the chancellors of France have been accustomed to enjoy and to exercise'.47 However, when the Parlement registered the letters it inserted a clause directly contradicting their intention by stating that the garde des sceaux held the seals 'without power to claim in the administration of justice any power or authority belonging, essentially, to the sole state, office and 44

45 46 47

Little has been written about his career, but some background can be found in P. Grosclaude, Malesherbes: temoin et interprete de son temps (Paris, 1961), pp. 82-4. See the comments of the marquis d'Argenson, Journal, VIII, p. 161. Marion, Machault, pp. 312-13. Ibid., p. 313.

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dignity of the chancellor of France'. Such confusion was symptomatic of royal policy towards the parlements, and thereafter both men continued to dabble in judicial affairs without any clear definition of their respective roles. The extent to which the decline in the authority of the chancellor contributed to the breakdown in relations between the government and the Parlement of Paris is hard to assess, but it seems reasonable to assume that it had a significant impact. When the two men belonged to different court factions, conflicting signals were sent to the sovereign courts about how they were expected to respond in moments of crisis. The effects were extremely damaging, undermining the ability of the senior officials in the Parlement to manage the conduct of their colleagues.48 Another unfortunate consequence of the chancellor's weakness was the tendency of individual ministers, especially the controleur general of finances, to assume personal control of their dealings with the judges.49 The regular and frequently urgent need for the prolongation, or increase, of taxation forced successive finance ministers to deal directly with the magistrates. While their behaviour was perfectly understandable, the regular interaction between ministers and judges was a perfect recipe for the kind of intrigue which lay behind many of the political crises after 1750. The problem of managing the parlements was complicated further by the unsettled nature of the government itself. Under Louis XIV, the disgrace of a minister had been a comparatively rare occurrence. After the eclat surrounding the fall of Fouquet in 1661, only two other ministers, Chamillart and Pomponne, were dismissed from office. During his long reign, there were only twenty-six secretaries of state, and their responsibilities were frequently handed down from father to son.50 Louis XV, on the other hand, employed thirty-five secretaries of state, many of whom, including powerful figures such as Maurepas, Machault, d'Argenson, and Choiseul, were disgraced. The problem was 48

49

50

A good example was provided by the quarrel involving the Parlement of Paris and the Grand Conseil, where ministerial divisions seriously weakened official policy, Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 438-9, 443~4Antoine, Conseil du roi, pp. 383, 425-9, has emphasised this general point in the financial context, but its specific importance between 1751 and 1768 has been overlooked. M m e d u H a u s s e t , Memoires de Mme du Hausset, femme de chambre de Mme de Pompadour, avec des notes et des eclaircissements historiques, e d . Berville a n d Barriere (Paris, 1824), P32, n. 1.


61

even more acute in the exposed office of controleur general, and no fewer than nine men held the post between 1750 and 1774.51 Such volatility can be explained, in part, by the financial crises resulting from the Seven Years War, but its effects on the Parlement were considerable. The ministerial swings and roundabouts at Versailles sapped judicial confidence in the pronouncements and policies of the government.52 With no reason to believe that a particular finance minister would remain long in his post, the judges had neither the need nor the incentive to invest time and effort on his behalf. It also prevented the formation of an effective parti ministeriel which might have assisted the government in moments of difficulty as was the case some years later under Louis XVI. 53 Finally, for the ambitious, there was always the temptation to oppose the minister in the hope of replacing him, especially after 1763 when the government began to appoint its controleur general directly from the parlements. Despite these institutional problems, the chancellor could work with the first president, rapporteur, and gens du roi to facilitate government business. Regular bulletins from the procureur general and the first president kept the head of the judiciary informed about events in the court.54 In their correspondence, they warned of impending resistance to royal edicts, identified necessary changes to legislation, and proposed compromises likely to be acceptable to the Parlement as a whole. Thus, in 1755, the procureur general and the first president used all the means at their disposal, including letters and personal appeals, in a desperate attempt to prevent the government from backing a rival court, the Grand Conseil, in a jurisdictional quarrel with the Parlement.55 Although their efforts failed, the quality of their advice was subsequently proven when the Parlement's powerful opposition resulted in the humiliation of the government. Cooperation could, 51

52 53

54

55

In order of appearance: Machault d'Arnouville (1745-54); Moreau de Sechelles (17546); Peyrenc de Moras (1756-7); Boullongne (1757-9); Silhouette (1759); Bertin (175963); L'Averdy (1763-8); Maynon d'Invau (1768-9); Terray (1769-74). A point made by Miromesnil, BN Ms Fr 10986, fol. 89. The usefulness of such a government parti has been stressed by Stone, Parlement of Paris, pp. 19-28. The Joly de Fleury collection in the Bibiliotheque Nationale is overflowing with these letters; see, for example, BN Collection Joly de Fleury 1446, fols. 1-244; a n d ibid., 2107, fols. 1-204. Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 437-40.

62

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-177'4

however, bring rewards, and during the ruinously expensive Seven Years War, the king's representatives in the Parlement were instrumental in preparing financial packages acceptable to their colleagues. In 1760, edicts establishing the third vingtieme and indirect taxes on starch and leather were all subject to careful scrutiny, convincing the controleur general, Bertin, to amend his original projects before they were presented to the magistrates.56 11

These examples illustrate that cooperation between the magistrates and the king's ministers was not only frequent, but also desirable if conflict was to be avoided. By taking the time to consult, many potential sources of dispute could be ironed out long before a government proposal was submitted for parlementaire scrutiny. With sound preparation, it was perfectly feasible for the Parlement to do little more than apply its seal of approval by prompt registration, as occurred with Bertin's levies on starch and leather. The procedure was relatively simple.57 The text of the edict, declaration, or letters patent was sent to the gens du roi, who examined the legislation and prepared their conclusions, usually explaining why registration was desirable. When their conclusions were completed, they were passed to the first president who subsequently assembled the chambers.58 All the members of the chambers of enquetes and requites then gathered in the great hall of the grand'chambre to hear the rapporteur present the new law and the conclusions of the gens du roi. Depending upon the gravity of the measure concerned, he would deliver a speech outlining the principal reasons for the king's decision and why its immediate registration was desirable. Once the rapporteur had concluded his speech, the first president opened the subject for deliberation. Debates within the court 56

57

58

BN Collection Joly de Fleury 1446, fol 174, first president de Mole to procureur general Joly de Fleury, 10 February 1760; ibid., fol. 175, Joly de Fleury to Bertin, n February 1760; ibid., fol. 176, Bertin to Joly de Fleury, 13 February 1760. A large amount of correspondence relating to these negotiations has been preserved, ibid., fols. 178-244. The following is intended to provide a general illustration of the process, and is based upon the standard pattern of assemblies held between 1750 and 1771. The majority of these debates are to be found in series { U' and 'X' of the Archives Nationales. Matters of minor importance could be dealt with by the grand'chambre alone.


63

functioned according to a quaint system based upon the status attached to a particular office and the length of time an incumbent had served.59 As a result, it was the senior president a mortier who began every discussion by giving his opinion. He could either simply follow the rapporteur by indicating his support for his proposal or offer an alternative suggestion, generally termed an avis, of his own. The other presidents would then proceed in the same fashion, and once they had completed their opinions, the court turned to the senior councillor in the grand'chambre, before eventually passing to the judges of the enquetes and requites. These chambers, filled by younger, often inexperienced magistrates, were a hotbed of opposition within the court. Whether out of impetuosity, or the desire to cause a stir, it was these judges who frequently made the most daring and critical speeches. The government was well aware of the problem, as were the first presidents, but despite occasional efforts to restrict the debates to those with ten or more years service, it tolerated the existence of this vice.60 Nor were the assemblies the only arena where the junior magistrates could exert their influence. Many of the speeches delivered in the court had been prepared long in advance, and the judges worked in teams, known as comites, within their own chambers where the youngest were often the most conscientious.61 These meetings could be called to discuss concrete measures or simply be the result of rumours circulating in the Palais de Justice. But they allowed the individual chambers time to consider their position before an assembly. It was, therefore, common for one of the senior members of a particular chamber to speak on behalf of his colleagues. Not all of the Parlement's assemblies were provoked by the need to examine new legislation. Plenary sessions could also be called because a judge wished to inform the court of a matter of grave importance. After 1750, the most frequent cause of these debates was news of the sacraments being refused to a suspected Jansenist. Another regular source of such interruptions was the 59

60 61

There is no reliable guide to the peculiar debates and voting system of the Parlement, and these observations are based upon a study of the archival records of the court, the contemporary observations of Luynes, Memoires, XI, pp. 304-5, XVI, pp. 467-8, and the work of Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. lxxviii-xcv. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, p. lxxx. Examples of the role played by the comites are provided by the registers of the first chamber of enquetes, AN XiA 8289, fols. 8-12, 42-3.

64

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, iy'54-177'4

many 'affairs' which occurred between the royal administration and the provincial Parlements, notably those of Besangon, Pau, and Rennes.62 In theory, it was not easy for an individual magistrate to call an assembly, and he was obliged to follow a rather cumbersome procedure.63 First, he had to raise the matter in his own chamber and obtain majority agreement.64 Supposing that this had been secured, the next step was to contact the other chambers of enquetes and requetes, which were requested to send representatives (usually two) to an assemblee du cabinet. The deputies of the chamber responsible for calling the meeting then explained their reasons, which were subsequently reported back by the various representatives. At these assemblies, the individual chambers debated their response to the proposal, before conveying it to a second assemblee du cabinet. There was no guarantee of unanimity and further meetings were often required before four, or more, of the seven chambers concurred on a proposition to be presented by the doyen to the first president. Although he had the right to refuse to assemble the chambers, the fear of compromising his position tended to ensure that the request was granted. It is not difficult to imagine the time and effort expended on what Flammermont has justly described as these 'baroque procedures'.65 As a result, the magistrates developed a whole series of tactics designed to accelerate events. One popular alternative was for a magistrate to make a denunciation while the chambers were assembled for a different matter. A good example was provided by councillor AmbroiseJulien Clement de Feillet, who on 28 March 1768 interrupted a plenary session to denounce the Grand Conseil, government policy in Brittany, and an edict creating new venal offices.66 It was a common practice, and the evidence from the Parlement's debates suggests that the traditional procedure became more fluid, or 62

63 64

65 66

The Besanôn affair has been discussed by J. Swann, 'Parlements and political crisis in France under Louis XV: the Besangon affair, 1757-1761', Historical Journal (1994). Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 93-181, offers the most accessible introduction to the crises involving the provincial Parlements as a whole. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. lxxxi-lxxxiii. Members of the grand'chambre were not obliged to continue beyond this stage as an assembly was granted automatically. Ibid., p. lxxxi. BS Ms 803, fol. 389. The registers of the Parlement of Paris contain many examples of this sort.


65

was more easily circumvented, after 1750 when the number of denunciations and the frequency of plenary sessions noticeably increased.67 The phenomenon was not confined to Paris, and one of the most common laments of first presidents generally was their inability to restrict these debates which did so much to unsettle the sovereign courts.68 The overall effect was to diminish the power of the first president. Without prior knowledge of a denunciation, he had the time neither to consult Versailles, nor to rally his senior colleagues for a display of moderation. Despite its rather dry procedures, the Parlement's debates were anything but sedate, and lively speeches and heated disagreements were common. Much thought went into plotting tactics and finding methods of manipulating the rules to partisan advantage. Because of the rigid system of collecting individual opinions, the earlier an avis was presented, the better its chances of accumulating support. The parlementaires, therefore, resorted to a whole series of tactics designed to circumvent these regulations, including passing a speech to a friendly councillor higher up the ranks of seniority, or deliberately placing a younger judge on a bench reserved for an older colleague.69 On balance, speaking first in the assembly was probably an advantage, although it has been argued that the system worked against the interests of the crown.70 Most of the radical speeches came from the enquetes and requites, which meant that the older, generally conservative members of the grand'chambre had already spoken and were unable to challenge their arguments or assertions. Not even the first president could calm matters effectively, and to preserve his reputation for impartiality he tended to avoid making his position explicit, unless he had a specific instruction from the king or was worried that a suggestion might seriously damage the interests of the crown. Clearly, a debate involving as many as 250 judges, few of whom considered verbosity a crime, meant that the debates could I have made no effort to count the number of assemblies, as they became almost daily occurrences after 1750. A point made by Miromesnil after Maupeou's reforms, BN Ms Fr 10986, fol. 88. The disciplinary edicts that the crown attempted to impose upon the Parlement of Paris in 1718, 1732, and 1756 all strengthened the powers of the first president in this regard. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 131, 474-5, referred to a number of different tactics, and the court's debates provide numerous other examples. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. lxxxv-lxxxvi.

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continue for hours. However, once all those eligible had given their opinion^ the total for each individual avis was counted. If there were more than two, as was regularly the case, it was necessary to begin the task of securing a majority. In order to achieve this end, the court gradually eliminated the minority avis beginning with that which had accumulated the lowest total. The judges concerned were required to switch their allegiance to one of the remaining positions, without being able to expand on the reasons for their decision. The number of avis was eventually reduced to three, and when the smallest had in turn been eliminated the larger of the two outstanding was declared the winner. In an effort to prevent block voting by family groups, the rules further stipulated that if father and son, or two or more brothers, brother-in-law, or nephews had chosen the same avis, then only one was added to the total.71 Given the endogamous nature of the parlementaires,72 this was an important consideration, and it helps to explain why the voting figures, even in significant debates, were comparatively low. The voting system has been criticised for preventing 'serious political discussion',73 but such anachronistic verdicts misrepresent the aim of the process. While the rules appear archaic, they were nevertheless supremely effective at producing an overall majority. Once adopted, a position became that of the court as a whole, given weight by its prestige and upheld as an expression of corporate honour. The search for consensus integral to the voting system was an important factor in forging unity and resolution, which in turn played such a significant part in strengthening parlementaire opposition. The contrast with the divided royal council could not be clearer. in

Convention helped to reinforce the conservatism of the court, and when debating important legislation the magistrates had a limited number of legitimate responses to choose from. The most straightforward, not to say desirable for the government, was to register the law purely and simply, that is without any alterations. 71

Luynes, Journal, X V I , p. 467, and G. Soulavie, Memoires historiques et anecdotes de la cour de France pendant la faveur de la marquise de Pompadour (Paris, 1802), p. 187.

72

Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 81-100, provides a detailed study of marriage patterns amongst the judges. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, p. lxxxv.

73


67

Legislation could also be registered with an accompanying arrete containing additional clauses. With wartime taxation, for example, it was common practice to insert a sentence stating that it could be levied 'until the peace,' or with ecclesiastical matters to refer to the 'liberties of the Gallican church'. If the government believed that the Parlement's action was unacceptable, the king could quash the arrete and demand its registration purely and simply, but in general it turned a blind eye. When the Parlement chose not to register a law, it could either pass an arrete committing itself to some form of appeal, or it could appoint a commission to advise on the most appropriate path to take. Composed of the ten presidents a mortier, several members of the grand'chambre chosen by the first president, and representatives appointed by the enquetes and requites, the commissioners met under the direction of the first president. Their brief was to examine the disputed law and take soundings from amongst their colleagues before putting a recommendation before a subsequent plenary session. A debate would then follow, but if the commissioners had done their job properly their suggestion was likely to be accepted. What, then, were the possible alternatives for the Parlement when it wished to petition the king? The least dramatic, although potentially rewarding, was to use the good offices of the first president and gens du roi. It was a tactic used frequently in the course of long drawn out 'affairs', especially during the court's vacations, and it had certain useful advantages. By leaving its senior members to negotiate on its behalf, the Parlement avoided irritating the king and his ministers with public criticism of their policies and allowed scope for deals to be struck without the crown appearing to bow to outside pressure. Should these efforts fail, or be considered insufficient, then the more serious weapons of representations or remonstrances were available. Explaining the difference between the two forms of protest is a hazardous business, but in general representations were shorter and more readily composed. Remonstrances, on the other hand, often ran to over fifty pages of legal argument, historical precedent, and rather leaden prose.74 The choice of one form of protest rather than another does not necessarily enlighten us about the relative 74

A notorious case was the Grandes remontrances sur Us refus des sacrements of April 1753, Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. 506-609.

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importance the judges attached to the affair in question, although when a protest was considered to be especially urgent, representations were liable to be preferred. It is important to stress that the decision to draft remonstrances was not always a sign of conflict, and some parlementaire protests were merely for form. Thus in January 1764, the Parisian magistrates wrote vehement remonstrances attacking the conduct of the commandant of Languedoc, the due de Fitz-James. Louis XV was informed that the due had: made a plan to tyrannise the people over whom you have given him the command, and had tried to impose a yoke on their shoulders which they would never have carried if he had thought as a citizen, if he had reflected on the duties that such responsibilities impose, if he had consulted the even stricter engagements that the dignity of the peerage had contracted between himself, the nation and the laws.75 Yet, this damning condemnation of a senior officer of the crown had been composed with the government's, although not the due's blessing and marked the end not the beginning of the crisis.76 Even when the decision to protest was born of genuine conviction, there was nothing preordained about its likely results. Both the Parlement and the king could choose to end a dispute by respectively registering or withdrawing a law, or, alternatively, by negotiating a mutually acceptable compromise. Serious quarrels could, on the other hand, arise out of comparatively minor incidents because of intrigue or simply misjudgement. Once a confrontation had occurred, a crisis could quickly develop a momentum of its own. If the court had decided to issue remonstrances, the first president appointed commissioners to help him with the task of drafting preparatory articles.77 Individual magistrates also had the opportunity to pass on their own suggestions or relevant documents to those working on the remonstrances. The completed articles were subsequently presented to the assembled chambers, and if they were approved the first president would use them as the basis for the final text.78 Before 1750, he had enjoyed a 75 76

77 78

Ibid., II, pp. 424-38, esp. p. 425. BPR Collection Le Paige 558, fols. 94-5. Le Paige claimed that he had helped to draft the remonstrances. For examples of these articles, see Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 513-15. Ibid., I, pp. lxxxviii-xci.


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reasonable amount of latitude when writing the remonstrances. Admittedly it was not an easy task because he was obliged to produce a document that conveyed the concern of his colleagues expressed in the original vote for a protest without unduly annoying the government. However, control at the final stage allowed him to modify, or to tone down, any extravagant claims that might have crept into the original articles, and he was secure in the knowledge that responsibility was ultimately his own. Any further risk of inconvenience was avoided by reading the finished draft to the court immediately prior to their presentation, leaving no time for serious amendment. All of this changed as a result of a debate held on 2 June 1750. First president Rene Charles de Maupeou had prepared to read his text protesting about a series of fiscal edicts, but he was interrupted by several judges who argued that the Parlement, having proposed the remonstrances, had a right to amend them if necessary. Their plea was rejected, but the next day Jean-Baptiste-Frangois Durey de Meinieres, a respected judge who, somewhat unusually, had close relations with the Parlement's parti janseniste and a reputation as a friend of the philosophes, produced decisive documentary evidence to support their claim.79 This decision dealt a serious blow to the authority of the first president.80 Maupeou's successor, first president MathieuFrangois de Mole, frequently encountered difficulties when he tried to curb some of the more inflammatory language used to condemn government policy, and he even had his judgement questioned in a plenary session.81 First president de Maupeou, despite the opprobrium that later fell upon himself and his more famous son, exercised his responsibilities with some skill. It was not until he was compromised by his involvement in a bungled royal coup against the Parlement in December 1756 that he lost the confidence of its members. Yet whether by accident or design, after June 1750 Maupeou allowed his colleagues to play a more active role in drafting remonstrances, and on one occasion, in March 1753, he actually refused to write them altogether.82 His 79 80 81 82

Ibid., I, pp. lxxxix-xci, 651-3. Flammermont, on the other hand, argued that little had changed, ibid., pp. lxxxviii, xci. AN U 1094, dos. 3, 28 August 1759, and AN XiA 8289, fols. 49-51. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. lxxxviii, and Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 145-50.

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reticence was understandable because the subject of the protest was the refusal of the sacraments, an issue which had caused a bitter split between the Parlement and the clergy for over five years. By refusing to put pen to paper, Maupeou allowed his more zealous colleagues to enter what soon resembled an essay competition in a provincial academy. Several groups of would-be authors, most of them drawn from the parti janseniste^ spent weeks trying to assemble the ultimate condemnation of the bishops responsible. The result was the so-called grandes remontrances of 9 April 1753, written by two young magistrates, Claude Guillaume Lambert and Robert de Saint-Vincent.83 Louis XV made the mistake of refusing to receive their complaints; the court went on strike and for this act of insubordination spent fifteen months in exile.84 The events of March 1753 were an extreme example of a more general tendency. Remonstrances were increasingly written for the first president rather than by him.85 It is difficult to explain this abdication, although it reflected the general inability of the first president to control the turbulence in the court after 1750. By allowing his colleagues to assume responsibility for the remonstrances, a potential source of friction was sidestepped. During the 1750s, it was the Parlement's parti janseniste that profited from the reticence of the first president, and judges like Lambert and Robert de Saint-Vincent acted as conduits for the ideas of, among others, the Parisian lawyer, Louis-Adrien Le Paige. After the expulsion of the Jesuits in 1764, the power of the Jansenists declined, but the first president, now Rene Nicolas Charles Augustin de Maupeou, the future chancellor, failed to reassert his authority, and most of the Parlement's remonstrances were written for him.86 The debate of 2 June 1750 had, therefore, undermined the first president's ability to tailor remonstrances according to circumstances, leaving him with little opportunity to moderate the excesses of his more radical colleagues. 83 84

85

86

The text has been published by Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. 506-609. The most detailed study of the crisis is that of Rogister, 'Conflict and harmony', pp. 115-89The development was not entirely novel, and the parti janseniste had been helping the first president to write remonstrances since at least 1732, Maire, 'L'eglise et la nation', pp. 1190. The authors of these remonstrances are discussed in chapter 10 below.


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IV

After May 1753, Louis XV did not repeat his mistake of refusing the Parlement's remonstrances. By doing so, he had committed the cardinal error of demonstrating that access to the throne was blocked, provoking a judicial strike justifiable on the grounds that he was being deceived by false counsel. Such dramatic confrontations were rare. Instead, once the magistrates had completed their remonstrances, they sent the gens du roi to Versailles in order to arrange an audience with the king. Both sides could indicate the significance attached to the meeting by means of display. For the judges, the decision to send a grande deputation to accompany their petition was a signal that they were gravely concerned. The king, on the other hand, could hasten or delay the presentation of the remonstrances as he saw fit, and he had the right to summon the entire Parlement, or its senior members, to hear his reply. Greater emphasis could be added by reading an answer to the magistrates while surrounded by his ministers, the dauphin, and the princes of the blood, thus underlining the unity and resolution that lay behind his words.87 Louis XV has been remembered for two great blows struck against the pretensions of the parlements. The first, that of 3 March 1766, known as the seance de la flagellation, when he launched into a tirade against the principles contained in their remonstrances, and, second, his support for Maupeou's coup. The king undoubtedly possessed an authoritarian streak, and on more than one occasion resorted to violent measures such as ordering that passages which he disliked be struck from the Parlement's registers.88 Yet an exaggerated emphasis upon these dramatic events obscures the reality of a long reign during which the monarch was often prepared to listen patiently to the grievances of his magistrates.89 Nor was it the case that Louis XV left his 87

88 89

The response of 8 April 1759 to the Parlement's remonstrances in favour of the Parlement of Besanc,on, and of 7 September 1759, to its protest about the establishment of a third vingtieme, are especially good examples, Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 184-8. As occurred on 5 September 1751 and 3 September 1770. In addition to the many remonstrances of the Parlement of Paris, the king received deputations from the twelve provincial bodies and a host of other courts, including the Grand Conseil, and various Cour des Aides, and Chambre des Comptes.

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ministers alone to ponder the consequences of the magistrates' protests. When he was offended by a particularly audacious phrase, he was perfectly capable of demanding an explanation or issuing a reprimand. On other occasions, the king would listen to the court's remonstrances and issue his response immediately, without bothering to consult his ministers.90 Unfortunately, these incidents offer historians no more than a tantalising glimpse of Louis XV's alert and lively mind. All too often, his character and opinions were hidden by a combination of personal timidity and royal protocol. When it came to maintaining court etiquette, Louis XV was every bit as meticulous as his predecessor and some observers claimed that, if anything, regulations became stricter.91 More important in the long term was the failure of Louis XV to use his personal charisma, and the awe and respect which the monarchy commanded, to good effect. Few members of the judiciary thought as long, or as hard, about the problems of managing the parlements as Hue de Miromesnil, first president of the Parlement of Rouen and later Louis XVI's garde des sceaux. A conservative man, he was increasingly concerned by the parlementaire quarrels and throughout his lengthy correspondence with successive royal ministers he implored them to use their credit in order to persuade the king to break through the barriers of etiquette.92 Not unreasonably, he argued that a few kind words, a personal gesture, or compliment from the king, would not only demonstrate that he took a personal interest in the affairs of the parlements, but would also stir the sentiments of loyalty undoubtedly present amongst the majority of judges. His appeals fell on deaf ears, and despite being well informed about both their attitudes and grievances, Louis preferred, in general, to leave his ministers to address a few, often harsh words to the many parlementaire deputations that visited him. The king thus failed to capitalise on the assets at his disposal, and his 90

91 92

The king made an especially fulsome tribute to the Grand Conseil for its restrained behaviour during a jurisdictional quarrel with the Paris Parlement in April 1756. BPR Collection Le Paige 539, fol. 90. Hausset, Memoires, pp. 1-4, 26. P . L e V e r d i e r , Correspondance politique et administrative de Miromesnil premier president du parlement de Normandie (5 vols., Paris, 1899-1903), I, pp. 96-8, Miromesnil to Bertin, 25 June 1760; pp. 107-8, Miromesnil to Bertin, 28 June 1760; ibid., Ill, pp. 64-5, Miromesnil to L'Averdy, 7 January 1764.


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reticence certainly contributed towards the rumours, increasingly prevalent after 1750, that he took little interest in the affairs of state.93 In fact, the king was not obliged to make a reply to the court's remonstrances, and it was not unknown for a matter to be allowed to lapse after their presentation. Usually this was because a compromise had been reached behind the scenes before the remonstrances had been presented, as occurred in January 1764 with the Fitz-James case. But sometimes the absence of a response was a sign that the government had abandoned a disputed position. In the spring of 1756, Louis XV ignored repeated protests about his earlier support for the Grand Conseil in its jurisdictional quarrel, allowing the Parlement to settle the affair on its own terms.94 However, the king would generally reply either immediately if the protest had been read to him, or subsequently once it had been examined by his council. Reported to the assembled chambers by the first president, his words were registered by the court which then debated its own response. The magistrates had by this stage come full circle, but they were entitled to petition the king with further remonstrances should they consider it necessary. The privilege was used to the full, and repeated protests were common. If a dispute became prolonged, the king had two principal methods of commanding obedience. The most straightforward was to send lettres dejussion, effectively an order for the immediate registration of an edict. If this failed, he could resort to the ultimate weapon of a lit de justice, which, in theory, allowed the king to end disagreements to his own satisfaction. Between 1715 and his death in May 1774, Louis XV held fourteen lits de justice in the Parlement of Paris.95 That of 1715, at the beginning of the new reign, and of 1723, announcing the king's majority, were of a traditional nature, although the first of these was politically significant because it marked the regent's assumption of power. Of the others, six were necessary either to impose new taxation 93

94 95

Ibid., I, pp. 106-8, Miromesnil to Bertin, 28 June 1760. Marquis d'Argenson, Journal, VIII, pp. 198-9, was making thinly veiled comments about the king's 'lack of willpower' and 'indolence' as early as 1753. Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 457-60. These took place in 1715, 1718, 1723, 1725, 1730, 1732, August 1756, December 1756, 76l> J763> r 7 6 8, i77°> and 1771.

74

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, ij54-177'4

or to prolong existing impositions and could be considered, in the short term at least, to have achieved their objectives.96 Finally, six lits de justice, held in 1718, 1730, 1732, 1756, 1770 and 1771 ? either imposed edicts regulating the internal administration of the Parlement or new laws defining the status of the infamous Unigenitus. Three of these saw an extreme response from the parlementaires, with judicial strikes in September 1732 and December 1770, and the resignation of the vast majority in December 1756.97 Only that of 26 August 1718 came anywhere near fulfilling its objectives; three of the more ardent magistrates were arrested and after a brief judicial strike the Parlement capitulated.98 Having demonstrated his authority in these uncompromising terms, the regent subsequently allowed the checks on the Parlement's powers of remonstrance to lapse. As for the lit de justice of April 1730, it marked the beginning of a lengthy battle about Unigenitus that would result in judicial strikes, exiles, and imprisonment before a compromise was finally reached. The lit de justice was at best a two-edged weapon, and it needed handling with care. Generally speaking, if the crown employed a lit de justice to enforce a financial edict, the Parlement of Paris was inclined to submit after registering a protest in an arrete. Only if the king used a lit de justice to enforce the registration of matters affecting the church or the internal discipline of the court was it certain to provoke a dramatic response, such as a judicial strike or mass resignation. The provincial parlements were, if anything, more combative, especially after the outbreak of war in 1756. Those of Rouen, Toulouse, and Grenoble all saw serious trouble, including mass resignations, because of the forced registration of fiscal edicts.99 That these quarrels were significant should not be doubted. Maupeou's reforms were the direct result of a similar clash between the crown and the Parlement of Rennes, and when between 1786 and 1788 both the government and the Parlement of Paris refused to play by the old rules, the ancien regime collapsed. 96 97

98 99

They occurred in 1725, 1756, 1759, 1761, 1763, and 1768. The crisis of 1732 has been examined by: Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement of Paris under cardinal Fleury'; Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions, pp. 99-243; and Merrick, '"Disputes over words'". The crises of 1756 and 1770 are examined in more detail below. Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. ix-x. Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 133-81.


75

Clearly, the potential disadvantages of a lit de justice were not lost on either Louis XV or his ministers, and the ceremony was used sparingly. Forced registration was also of little use when it came to ending feuds between the magistrates and the clergy or preventing the Parisian judges from intervening in the government's disputes with the provincial courts. Many of these quarrels degenerated into wars of attrition, often spread out over several years, and, for example, during the Besangon affair of 1759-61 the Parlement of Paris made no fewer than seven protests to Louis XV.100 These continual public denunciations of his policy were an undoubted irritation to the king, and the fear that several, or all, of the Parlements would cease their functions in a joint act of defiance was never far from his mind. A combination of good sense, innate conservatism, and ingrained particularism prevented the judiciary from mounting such a challenge, even when pushed to its limits by Maupeou's deliberate provocation, and the Parisian magistrates never treated an 'affair' in the provinces as the reason for a cessation of their duties. When strikes, or mass resignations, did occur in Paris, it was because of provocative action by the government, such as refusing to hear remonstrances or attempting to compell the registration of contentious legislation by a lit de justice.

v These, then, were the general rules of judicial politics. Yet the debates of the Parlement were not conducted in a vacuum, and the quarrels at Versailles, and within the king's council, tended to spill over into the Palais de Justice. Trying to identify the influence of ministers or courtiers upon the behaviour of the judges is, at best, an imprecise science, not least because any tangible evidence of subterfuge was likely to be obscured. There are, however, grounds to believe that after 1750, if not 1715, there was a gradual process of what we might call the 'politicisation' of judicial affairs. In other words, the Parlement of Paris came to serve as a useful forum for the intrigues of the court. While in exile during 1772, Miromesnil reflected upon the cause of Mau100

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 172-221.

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peou's judicial revolution.101 He wrote: 'everything is given up to intrigue, everything is done by it. For twenty years, the intrigues of the court have agitated the parlements'. Those whom he held responsible were the ministers who in order 'to preserve themselves in office have alternatively flattered or persecuted the parlements according to what served their own best interests. As for those who wanted to enter the government, they have used or abused the parlements in order to further their own ambitions.'102 For Miromesnil, one of the key causes of the agitation in the sovereign courts was the interaction with the cabals at Versailles. Money and patronage oiled the wheels of the system. According to him, it was common for ministers to excite parlementaire resistance to the measures of their opponents and for some judges to stir opposition amongst their colleagues in order to have the opportunity of winning government favour by arranging the subsequent settlement.103 Finally, he claimed that ministers had gradually developed the habit of paying pensions or providing other gratifications in order to buy the votes of magistrates in important debates.104 Turgot saw matters in a similar light, and in 1771 he noted 'the misfortune is that the government "buys" the Parlement when it is the interest of the people that is at stake'.105 Even Louis XV once admitted that he relied upon pensions and graces to assure the loyalty of magistrates who, publicly at least, appeared to be in the camp of those whom he termed the 'republicans'.106 By the late 1760s, prodigious sums were allegedly changing hands, and it has even been suggested that the due de Choiseul was deliberately emulating the techniques employed earlier in the century by the English prime minister, Robert Walpole.107 It is an argument that deserves to be taken seriously. In 1766, Denis-Louis Pasquier received a substantial sum, said 101

BN Ms Fr 10986, fols. 17-21. His comments were echoed by those of Montbarey, Memoires, I, pp. 340, 373-4. BN Ms Fr 10986, fol. 20, May 1772. 103 Ibid., fols. 89-90, July 1772. Bernis, Memoires et Lettres, I, pp. 334, 336, 340-1, made similar observations about the crisis of 1756-7. 104 BN Ms Fr 10906, fol. 90. 105 Quoted in Dakin, Turgot, p. 141. 106 Hausset, Memoires, pp. 94-5. 107 Y j r o j s e ^ £g prgSident de Brosses. Histoire des lettres et des parlements au XVIIIe siecle ( P a r i s , 1842), pp. 253-4. The habit was not new, although the sums involved may have increased. For a comparison, see Marion, Machault, pp. 53-4. 102


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to be 50,000 livres for his contribution to the rigged trial of Lally-Tollendal, and a year later president de Saint-Fargeau was allegedly paid 100,000 livres by contrbleur general L'Averdy for helping to smooth the passage of disputed fiscal edicts through the Parlement of Paris.108 These amounts were probably exaggerated, but an already weak ministry was further compromised by the tendency of its members to use the judges as weapons in their own disputes. Examples of this type of behaviour are not difficult to find. In 1755, chancellor Lamoignon, probably assisted by the comte d'Argenson, persuaded Louis XV to side with the Grand Conseil in its jurisdictional dispute with the Parlement of Paris.109 Almost immediately, their rivals on the king's council, Machault d'Arnouville and marechal de Noailles, were stirring opposition within the Parlement by spreading rumours of their opposition to official policy. Only a few months later in December 1756, the position was reversed when Machault and his allies sought to impose, in a lit de justice, an edict regulating the internal conduct of the Parlement. A majority of the judges resigned, and d'Argenson's jfozr/z was quick to publicise their patron's lack of involvement in a rapidly escalating crisis.110 Given the immense powers of patronage at their disposal, the ability of Machault and d'Argenson to create partis amongst the magistrates should not be doubted. Such behaviour merely reflected the nature of ancien regime society. Indeed, even after the reform of the Parlement of Paris in 1771, traditional habits were quick to resurface, and contemporaries began to speak of the parti d'Aiguillon and parti Maupeou that had formed within the new court.111 Any study of the political positions adopted by the Parlement must, therefore, take into account the constant interaction with Versailles, and the fact that its debates were of interest to ministers, courtiers, and magistrates alike. 108

109 110 111

There is no doubt that Pasquier was rewarded, Bluche, Magistrals du parlement, p. 164, but these sums were recorded by president d'Ormesson, AN, AP 156 Mi 74, fol. 49, after the exile of the Parlement in 1771. He had received this information from Lebrun, Maupeou's secretary, who may have been inflating the figures as part of his propaganda campaign. Swann, ''Grand Conseil affair', pp. 437-44. D'Argenson, Journal, IX, p. 364. The comment came from C. F. Lebrun, Opinions, rapports et choix d'e'crits politiques de Charles-Franqois Lebrun, due de Plaisance, recueillis et mis en ordre par son fils aine (Paris, 1829), PP- 4 I ~2, who ought to have known. Another useful source are the Nouvelles a la main sent from Paris, BN, NAF 24212, fol. 67.

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There were other less visible channels for the patronage and intrigue of Versailles to flow into the lives of the parlementaires. For the great robe dynasties of d'Argenson, Mole, Lamoignon, and Le Peletier, connections at court through high office or marriage meant that informal meetings or correspondence with ministers and courtiers were easily maintained. Yet even their less fortunate colleagues could enter the charmed circle. One of the most common routes was to serve in the household of one of the princes of the blood. Examples included abbe Terray, who was the chef du conseil of the prince de Conde, or Dupre de La Grange, who fulfilled the same duties for the due de Penthievre. President Murard, on the other hand, was secretary to the prince de Conti.112 Clearly, these positions were more likely to be a means of advancement for the individual magistrate and his family than a centre of political intrigue. In moments of crisis, however, the interests of Parlement and patron could become confused. The prince de Conti, whose boundless ambition and considerable talents made him a figure of importance, was the most obvious example of this phenomenon. After his quarrel with Louis XV in 1756, he was frequently involved in intrigues with Parisian magistrates, notably the parti janseniste.113 Yet even the much less conspicuous prince de Conde became involved in negotiations to end the political crisis of 1770-1 by using his former chef du conseil, abbe Terray, by this time controleur general,

as an intermediary.114 These relationships are all too often ignored by historians, and it has been justly noted that Versailles and the world of the court is the missing dimension in modern studies of eighteenth-century judicial politics.115 Caution is, however, required when assessing the effect of court factions upon the actions of the magistrates because voting in the Parlement's debates did not proceed in 112

113

The practice was widespread, and Bluche, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 165-6, provides other examples. See: D. Van Kley, 'The prince de Conty versus Mme de Pompadour and the political crisis of 1756-7 in France: an eighteenth-century fronde manque?', Proceedings of the annual meeting of the Western Society for French History 8 (1980), 227-8; J. D. Woodbridge, 'The French protestants' "secret": the prince de Conti's conspiracy against Louis X V in 1756-1757', Proceedings of the annual meeting of the Western Society for French History

114 115

8 (1980), 225-6; Swann, ''Grand Conseil affair', pp. 453-6. These events are discussed in chapter 11 below. A point made in the perceptive article by P. R. Campbell, 'Old regime politics and the new interpretation of the revolution', Renaissance and Modern Studies 33 (1989), 1-20.


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any modern political sense, nor did they resemble those taking place across the English channel. Any judge who displayed his support for a particular minister or patron too openly risked being ostracised by his colleagues.116 It is true that jurisdictional disputes, court intrigue, and governmental and institutional weakness appear to have little in common with the language of parlementaire opposition and its continual appeals to the fundamental laws, the rights of the nation, and the depot des lois.111 Yet, examining the ideas of the magistrates without reference to the context of their disputes is rather like studying fish out of water. Examples of arguments or issues being invested with a significance out of all proportion to their true value are not difficult to find, and historians should beware of always taking the language of parlementaire protest at face value. One interesting example of the apparently flippant attitude of some judges was provided by Robert de Saint-Vincent, who was personally a model of Jansenist earnestness. He recounted in his memoirs how as a young man he had been deeply impressed by his relative, Dupre de la Grange. During the 1730s and 1740s, Dupre had enjoyed a good reputation amongst his fellow judges. However, if he delivered a radical speech in the Parlement, he would immediately visit chancellor d'Aguesseau or cardinal Fleury in order to apologise.118 Years later, when the Parlement became embroiled in the controversy surrounding the refusal of the sacraments, Dupre neatly avoided both official censure and the wrath of his pro-Jesuit wife by avoiding the plenary sessions of the court altogether. The absenteeism of the senior magistrates and of those of a more moderate disposition was a serious handicap for the government and the first presidents generally. However, Dupre's tactics also illustrate the intimacy and ease of contact between the Parlement and the ministry. The fact that a judge could make 116

117

118

A. Grellet-Dumazeau, La societe parlementaire au XVIIIe siecle: les exiles de Bourges, 17531J54. D'apres des documents inedits et le journal anecdotique du president de Meinieres (Paris,

1892), pp. 117-19, records how one magistrate, Jean-Joseph de Beze de Belouse, aroused the suspicions of his colleagues by his outrageous criticisms of government policy. These themes recur endlessly in the protests of the Parlement of Paris. Particularly good examples are the remonstrances of 9 April 1753, 27 November 1755, and 22 August 1756, Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. 506-609, II, pp. 22-90, 135-48. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 41-3.

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a lively speech in the morning and excuse himself in the afternoon does imply that for some magistrates weighty words did not necessarily carry conviction. Nor did some actually understand what they were saying. In 1764, Miromesnil was puzzled to hear a number of younger councillors call during a debate for the establishment of a Com Pleniere.119 Intrigued by such a novel suggestion, he cornered the young magistrates responsible and demanded to know more. They were unable to answer, and Miromesnil could only assume that they had been influenced by ideas coming from Paris, without really understanding their meaning. Such behaviour certainly helps to explain why historians from across the political spectrum have been able to unite in denunciation of the hypocrisy that supposedly lay behind the Parlement's liberal rhetoric.120 Yet it is not the entire story, and many of the ideas expressed in the court's debates were either genuinely held or carefully crafted to achieve a given end. Comparatively minor matters, such as a jurisdictional clash with the Grand Conseil, could be invested with a new significance by dressing them in the colours of an assault upon the fundamental laws.121 It was a common tactic. The Jansenists were especially adept at hiding their sectional interests beneath a veneer of gallicanism or judicial principles.122 Denouncing the excesses of ultramontane bishops in the name of Saint Augustine, Jansen, or Port-Royal had limited appeal, but by claiming to have identified an attack on the court's jurisdiction or, even better, the constitution of the kingdom, the Jansenists could hope to rally widespread support. Careful examination of the context of a particular speech, or the background to parlementaire remonstrances, can often reveal a sharp dichotomy between the declared aims and the true objectives of Parisian magistrates. Not that revisionism should be pushed too far. Just as it is dangerous to take judicial protests literally, we need to refrain from reducing 119

120

121 122

Le Verdier, Miromesnil, IV, pp. 80-90, Miromesnil to L'Averdy, 16 December 1765, and L'Averdy to Miromesnil, 19 December 1765. For a representative sample see: Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 567-610; Laugier, Le triumvirat; and Soboul, The French revolution, pp. 27-8, 37, 81-2. Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 444-50. Campbell, 'Fleury', pp. 318-32, 364-72, has demonstrated how the Jansenists manipulated the appel comme d'abus as a means of stirring resistance to the papal Bull Unigenitus. During the refusal of the sacraments crisis, the parti janseniste continued to refine its techniques.


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their arguments to the level of an elaborate charade. Most judges had a clear definition of their own duty and a commitment to defend their own conception of the constitution. Yet with only a few exceptions, the principles advanced by the magistrates were more radical than their own essentially conservative interpretation of government and society. VI

By its very nature, parlementaire opposition was limited to obstructing the policies of the crown, and remonstrances were its principal means of doing so. The magistrates were nevertheless capable of adding new weapons to their armoury after 1750, including inviting the princes of the blood and the peers to a plenary session of the Parlement with the aim of debating royal policy. Although they were hereditary members of the institution, these great aristocrats clearly had nothing to do with the daily routine of the court, but their affiliation was turned to the Parlement's advantage.123 The tactic was first used in February 1756 during the jurisdictional dispute with the Grand Conseil, when the judges invited the peers under the pretext that the privileges of the entire Parlement, of which they were members, were in peril. Louis XV saw matters in a different light, especially when the princes and peers showed themselves willing to attend, and he banned the assembly. Wrangling about the legitimacy of such invitations was less easily disposed of, and the strategy was repeated on several occasions before 1771. From the vantage point of the Parlement, sending an invitation to the princes and peers was more than just a means of frightening the government. By issuing such an appeal, the magistrates were able to underline their own unique status as the Cour des Pairs, thus distancing themselves from rival and, in their eyes, inferior courts like the Grand Conseil. In addition, an invitation was a splendid means of switching, or complicating, the terms of an argument, usually to the disadvantage of the crown. Whenever the tactic was used, the king was placed in a dilemma, and he had to decide whether he would lose more by condoning an assembly than by refusing it. These and many 123

Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 449-57.

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other considerations were the stuff of which judicial politics was made, and its flexibility can be gauged by the fact that in February 1756 an appeal to the peers was considered a dangerous novelty, whereas by 1770 it was almost routine. Such new ideas, or strategies, were regularly used to further a dispute. If they succeeded, they were liable to become an established part of the political equation, while those that failed were just as easily forgotten. If the advantages that the magistrates derived from their association with the princes and the peers are easily explained, the appeal of the Parlement to those great aristocrats is more problematic. It is possible that some were genuinely concerned to uphold the prestige of an institution to which they belonged, or that they sympathised with the positions adopted by the judges. Some, notably the prince de Conti and the due de Choiseul, certainly saw the court as a useful means of carrying out their broader political strategy. Finally, for many peers it was probably tempting to bask in the reflected glory of the Parlement's public esteem, especially given the growing unpopularity of both the government and the clergy after 1750. Whatever the truth of the matter, the attempt to woo the peers certainly revived an old dimension to judicial politics; one which Louis XIV and his ministers had effectively neutralised. However, perhaps the most novel, and for the crown disturbing, of the methods employed by the parlementaires in their resistance to royal policy was the appeal to public opinion.124 The continual publication of remonstrances containing frequent references to the rights of the nation, appeals to the peerage, and claims that the court was descended from the assemblies held by the Frankish kings, broadened the horizons of the political life of the ancien regime.125 Few, if any of these theories were original, nor were the causes of the various political crises after 1750 new, but through force of repetition and, above all, regular publication they undoubtedly created a more open form of politics. The Parlement consciously courted the support of opinion in the 124

Historians have long been aware of the significance of these changes, see: Carcassonne, Montesquieu et le probleme de la constitution] Mornet, Les origines intellectuelles; and Bickart, Les parlements et la notion de souverainete nationale.

125

K. M. Baker has written extensively on this theme. See, for example, his Inventing the French revolution, p p . 1-12, 167-99.


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capital, and the fact that its remonstrances, despite their turgid style, often ran to several editions, testifies to the existence of a substantial audience. For many, the judges were genuinely viewed as the 'fathers of the patrie\ and their leaders compared with the senators and statesmen of ancient Rome.126 In addition, recent research has emphasised the importance of periodical literature and the foreign press in disseminating news of the Parlement's activities.127 Other channels for the circulation of political news included clandestine publications such as the Jansenist Nouvelles Ecclesiastiques, or the anonymous Nouvelles a la main, which broadcast details of parlementaire debates and remonstrances. Nor were the judges alone in seeing the advantages of a favourable press. Ministers were not averse to feeding information to selected publications, and messages could also be conveyed by authoritative official channels, notably the Gazette de France. Unlike earlier crises such as the frondes, with their infamous mazarinades, the constitutional arguments of the eighteenth century were sustained over a fifty-year period, and undoubtedly helped to prepare the intellectual climate for 1789. The battle for opinion has been interpreted by historians in terms of the literate public, and no less an authority than Roger Chartier has argued that literacy was a prerequisite for membership of this new tribunal.128 In terms of the parlementaire quarrels, such a definition is too narrow, and supporters of either side did not have to read in order to be useful. When serious crises occurred in 1753-4, J 75^—7, and 1770-1, causing judicial strikes or long periods of exile from the capital, the magistrates received support from all social levels, stretching from the princes of the blood to domestic servants. Perhaps the most important were the lawyers who, out of fear or solidarity, refused to plead before either the Chambre Royal, established to replace the exiled Parlement in 1753-4, o r t n e rump court left after the resignation of the majority of Parisian judges in 126

For two interesting examples see the comments of the marquis d'Argenson, Journal, VIII, pp. 19-20, and those of the bookseller S. P. Hardy, BN Ms Fr 6680, 'Mes Loisirs ou journal des evenements tels qu'ils parviennent a ma connoissance', fols.

127

There are a number of fascinating articles dealing with the periodical press in Censer and Popkin (eds.), Press and politics. Chartier, Cultural origins of the French revolution, p. 20-37.

211-12.

128

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December 1756.129 Magistrates in Paris, and even more so in the provinces, were central to the local economy, providing employment not only for the lawyers, clerks, and bailiffs of the Palais de Justice, but also for the hawkers, tradesman, lackeys, and servants who worked either for the parlementaires or the litigants who attended upon them. An exile, or a judicial strike, threatened their very livelihood. The importance of the lawyers to the Parlement's cause is well documented, but there are also grounds to believe that those lower down the social scale played a more active role than has hitherto been suspected. At one extreme, we have the example of Robert Frangois Damiens, a lowly servant, his head turned by the religious quarrels of the 1750s, who made an unsuccessful attempt on the king's life in January 1757.130 Other popular grumblings, or mauvais discours, against the government have been documented,131 but the most serious domestic political crisis of the reign, the Brittany affair, had, as one of its principal elements, a series of anonymous, scarcely literate, letters threatening the king. Although the author of these insulting lines will never be known, it seems more plausible that they were scrawled by a member of the lower orders than Louis-Rene de Caradeuc de La Chalotais, procureur general of the Parlement of Rennes, whom the government foolishly accused. Public support, broadly defined, reinforced the Parlement's political authority, although the claim that the judges had the power to engineer a popular revolt against the government was undoubtedly exaggerated.132 Instead, the parlementaires were cherished by a broad segment of the population as the festivities held to mark their periodic victories over the crown testified. Perhaps the most dramatic were the celebrations held in Besangon in the autumn of 1761 to mark the return of thirty exiled judges.133 The 129

130 131

132

133

The relationship between the magistrates and the lower ranks of the legal profession has been examined by: F. Delbecke, L'action politique et sociale des avocats au XVIIIe siecle (Louvain, 1927); and M. Gresset, Gens de justice a Besangon. De la conquete par Louis XIV a la revolution, i6j4~iy8g (2 vols., Paris, 1978). The work of Van Kley, Damiens, provides the essential guide to the affair. See: ibid., pp. 226-65; F. Rocquain, Uesprit revolutionnaire avant la revolution, 1715-1789 (Paris, 1878); and Chartier, Cultural origins of the French revolution, pp. 113-17. Both Rocquain, Uesprit revolutionnaire, pp. 172-80, and Ford, Robe and sword, pp. 1024, believed that such an insurrection was possible. M. Marion, 'Greves et rentrees judiciaires au XVIIIe siecle. Le grand exil du parlement de Besangon, 1759-1761', Revue des Questions Historiques 94 (1913), 87-93.


85

civic reception, held in a carnival atmosphere, saw the local archbishop, municipal dignitaries, and guilds greet the returning exiles like conquering heroes. Suitably enough, each magistrate passed through a series of triumphal arches before being crowned with laurels by a mechanically operated angel, who descended from her perch twelve metres above the ground. Less dramatic, if no less enthusiastic scenes were enacted elsewhere, notably in Rennes both in 1769 and 1775, and popular involvement was not just limited to these organised rituals of communal and corporate solidarity. When serious divisions occured within both the Parlements of Besangon and Rennes, those magistrates who sided with the crown were subject to the hostility and, in the case of the Bisontins, the charivari of the lower orders.134 The scope for such activities in Paris was, however, more limited, and the influence of such direct support confined to the cheers of enthusiasm which greeted a popular decision. The significance of public support for the parlementaires should not be exaggerated, and we cannot discount the possibility that they were encouraging, or even paying for these demonstrations in their favour. This was certainly the case in Dijon, where the local magistrates were particularly adept at organising demonstrations of support in their favour during their quarrels with the government and local estates.135 Yet it is clear that public opinion assumed greater importance as the century progressed, and both the crown and the parlements were aware that it was vital to the outcome of their quarrels. While hardly novel, the pursuit of public opinion was more sustained and rigorous than ever before, and its effects upon a more literate, wealthy, and pluralistic society should not be underestimated. If the numbers directly involved in the political arena remained small, there is no doubt that their struggles were being played out before an ever wider and more attentive audience. VII

Throughout the reign of Louis XV, judicial politics functioned within the broad framework outlined above, with the regular 134

135

BMB Collection Chiflet 59, fols. 229-30, and M. Marion, La Bretagne et le due d'Aiguillon, J 753-J77o (Paris, 1898), pp. 273-334. AN K 709, dos. 5, and Colombet, Les parlementaires bourguignons, pp. 27-9.

86


flow of royal legislation, parlementaire debates, remonstrances, and registration. These were the rules by which government was conducted, but there is no doubt that after 1750 the system was coming under strain. The roots of the problem were to be found at Versailles, where a gifted, but irresolute king failed to provide a consistent direction to the affairs of state. Even that handicap could have been overcome had Louis XV chosen a first minister to govern in his stead. His reluctance to do so ensured that ministerial and court intrigues not only fatally weakened any hopes of serious reform, but also destabilised the ordinary conduct of government. Problems within the sovereign courts were the natural consequence of such instability. In order to work effectively, the parlements required firm guidance, patience, and, above all, consistency from the crown, assets that were all in short supply after the death of cardinal de Fleury. Worse still, the realisation that meddling in the parlements could further the factional strife at Versailles led ministers and courtiers to extend their influence into the debates and assemblies of the magistrates. Their interest in the activities of the judges was symptomatic of both the reemergence of the Parlement as a factor in political life after 1715, and the failure of Louis XV's ministers to confine the magistrature to the legal sphere. It was against this complex social and institutional background that the great battles about religion, taxation, and the abuses in the royal administration were fought.

CHAPTER 4

The parti janseniste and the refusal of the sacraments crisis, 1734-1756

On 4 September 1754, in what has been described as a great victory, the magistrates of the Parlement of Paris returned to the capital after fifteen months in exile. As part of the political settlement, personally brokered by Louis XV, the Parlement received considerable concessions in its long-running battle with the clergy over the status of the papal Bull Unigenitus and the right of the bishops to refuse the sacraments to its opponents.1 Central to the king's initiative was a declaration, dated 2 September, which ordered silence to be observed on the religious quarrel. The imposition of the law of silence marked the beginning of a brief period of harmony in relations between the crown and the Parlement. Yet, despite the earnest hopes of Louis XV and the diligence of his judges, the law failed to end the religious disputes that had so troubled his reign. For over two years the Parlement and the episcopate remained locked in an acrimonious quarrel about the respective rights and privileges of the temporal and spiritual powers. Exasperated by his failure, Louis XV was persuaded, in December 1756, to impose not only a new declaration concerning Unigenitus, but also a disciplinary edict on the Parlement. Rather than accept this draconian policy, a majority of the judges resigned. In attempting to explain the difficulties which beset the law of silence, historians have traditionally divided into two broad camps. Those hostile to the Parlement have drawn attention to the arrogant manner in which the court used the declaration to Useful introductions to the controversy aroused by Unigenitus include: Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions; C a h e n , Les querelles religieuses et parlementaires; a n d P. Godard, La querelle des re/us de sacrements, 1730-1765 (Paris, 1937)-

88


attack the authority of the bishops.2 The alternative interpretation criticises the obscurantism of a minority of clerics whose determined opposition to the declaration effectively destroyed any hope of peace.3 As is so often the case, the truth falls somewhere in between the two extremes, and it is clear that the bishops were far from united.4 In the case of the Parlement, it has been assumed that the court's attitude towards the law of silence was dictated by the gallicanism of its members.5 While it would be foolish to discount the importance of gallicanism, or the affront that Unigenitus caused to the religious and intellectual sensibilities of many magistrates, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that its influence has been exaggerated.6 The real driving force behind the Parlement's involvement in the controversies arising from the Bull was its small, highly vocal parti janseniste. There has recently been a good deal of scholarly interest in the constitutional ideas developed by the Jansenists in their struggle against ecclesiastical and secular authorities.7 Comparatively little has been written about how they succeeded in pressing their ideas upon the court as a whole, or why other judges seized upon their ideas with such apparent enthusiasm.8 By examining the response of the Parlement to the law of silence, it is possible to demonstrate how Jansenist magistrates succeeded in manipulating the court to further their own religious ends.

The origins of the law of silence lay deep in the maze of ecclesiastical politics produced by the papal Bull Unigenitus. Hastily prom2

3

4

5

6 7

8

This argument is a feature of many works, but notably: Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. x-xi; Carre, Le regne de Louis XV, pp. 240-3; and Godard, Refus de sacrements, P- 254This argument has been advanced by Gazier, Histoire general du mouvement janseniste, II, pp. 68-72 and Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 147-9. See, for example, E. Appolis, Entre jansenistes et zelanti: le tiers parti catholique au XVIIIe siecle (Paris, i960). In effect, this is the orthodox explanation for the behaviour of the Parlement. See: Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement of Paris'; Egret, L'opposition parlementaire; and Glasson, Le parlement de Paris, II, pp. 153-95. Campbell, 'Fleury', pp. 318-76, offers the most forceful defence of this argument. A selection includes: Van Kley, Damiens; Joynes, 'Jansenists and ideologues'; Merrick, Desacralization of the French monarchy; and Maire, 'L'eglise et la nation'. One notable exception is Van Kley, Jansenists and the Jesuits, pp. 108-36.

The parti janseniste and the sacraments crisis

89

ulgated in 1713 by pope Clement XI, Unigenitus was the poisoned legacy Louis XV received from his great-grandfather. The bull had been intended to administer the coup de grace to the Jansenist heresy in France, but its ill-conceived condemnation of 101 propositions drawn, apparently at random, from the writings of pere Quesnel unleashed a bitter debate about the rights of the temporal and ecclesiastical powers in the kingdom. One of the principal sources of contention was the infamous proposition ninety-one, by which the pope reserved the theoretical right to excommunicate the king of France. This, and other clauses of the Bull, contravened the gallican articles of 1682, which established the independence of the French crown from papal interference in secular affairs.9 By the time of Unigenitus, the elderly monarch and the majority of bishops had shifted to a distinctly ultramontane stance, and it has been argued that the Parlement of Paris was left as the last bastion of the gallican liberties.10 Historians have, therefore, depicted the religious quarrels of the first half of the eighteenth century as a battle between the 'gallican' Parlement and the ultramontane defenders of Unigenitus - the so-called constitutionnaires - who were heavily represented in the upper echelons of the French clergy. Yet gallicanism remains an extremely nebulous concept, and the extent of its practical impact has recently been called into question. Instead, greater emphasis has been placed upon the jurisdictional and legal issues which lay behind parlementaire opposition to the Bull.11 During the ministry of the cardinal de Fleury, it proved possible to extinguish much of the controversy surrounding the Bull through the judicious use of a policy of evocation.12 By transferring 9

The articles are quoted by L. Mention, Documents relatifs aux rapports du clerge avec la

royaute de 1682 a iy8g (2 vols., Paris, 1893-1903), I, pp. 26-31. For a discussion of the origins and development of gallicanism, see V. Martin, Les origines du gallicanisme (2 vols., Paris, 1939), and his Le gallicanisme politique et le clerge de France (Paris, 1929).

10

11

12

The valuable study of A. G. Martimort, Le gallicanisme de Bossuet (Paris, 1953) should also be consulted. Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement'; Egret, Uopposition parlementaire, pp. 1734; and Glasson, Le parlement de Paris, II, pp. 153-95. Campbell, 'Fleury', pp. 318-76. A similar argument has been advanced to explain the behaviour of the Parlement during the Jansenist controversies of the seventeenth century, Hamscher, 'Social interpretation of early French Jansenism'. Campbell's work cited above offers the most recent study of the ministry of Fleury, but Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions should also be consulted. Earlier historians tended to be less sympathetic to the policies of the cardinal, for example, Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement of Paris under cardinal Fleury'.

go


potentially contentious cases to the king's council, Fleury succeeded in achieving a precarious balance between the ecclesiastical authorities and the secular courts. After the cardinal's death in 1743, this policy began to disintegrate, but the real threat to religious peace emerged in the late 1740s in the person of Christophe de Beaumont, who, in one of the most unwise appointments in the history of the ancien regime^ was named archbishop of Paris in 1747.13 Even his enemies, of whom there were many, conceded that Beaumont was a man of exceptional devotion and piety, but his intolerant stance towards those suspected of Jansenism made him a particularly unhappy choice for the Paris see. Almost immediately, he initiated a policy of refusing the sacraments to any penitent who was unable to produce a signed note or billet de confession verifying that he had been confessed by an authorised priest. His policy was not new; it had been sanctioned sporadically since 1713 by bishops in a number of dioceses.14 Yet its reintroduction, and the public scandals that ensued, quickly produced a clash between the archbishop and the Parlement of Paris, which acted in its traditional capacity as a court of appeal for those dissatisfied with the decisions of the ecclesiastical courts. The subsequent battle over the right of the archbishop to refuse the sacraments resurrected the thorny issue of Unigenitus. If, as the archbishop maintained, the Bull was a 'rule of faith' then his action was legitimate. But the Parlement had never accepted this definition, and even in 1730 when Fleury had elevated Unigenitus to the status of a 'law of church and state' he had never spoken of the Bull in these terms.15 In response to Beaumont's sacramental policy, the magistrates justified their intervention into spiritual matters on the basis of their secular duty of upholding public order. Refusals of the sacraments caused public scandals, and it was the task of the judges to prevent such disturbances.16 The dispute over the sacraments gradually evolved into a crisis of major proportions. After much vacillation, Louis XV sided with the bishops by rejecting the Parlement's 13

14

15 16

E. Regnault, Christophe de Beaumont archeveque de Paris (2 vols., Paris, 1882), has written a detailed, if hagiographic, account of the life of Beaumont. P. Crousaz-Cretet, L'eglise et I'etat ou les deux puissances au XVIIIe siecle, iyiyiy8g (Paris, 1893), PP- 95-6Campbell, 'Fleury', p. 306. Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 99-127, and especially pp. 112-15.


91

17

famous grandes remontrances in May 1753. When the judges protested against his decision by going on strike, the king reacted in an authoritarian fashion by sending the entire court into exile for over fifteen months. By refusing to hear the judges' remonstrances, Louis had committed a serious blunder. His action appeared to confirm the arguments of those who claimed that he had fallen under the influence of the devot faction at court, while simultaneously uniting the magistrates for a show of corporate solidarity against the insult to a cherished prerogative. Thereafter, they remained steadfastly united in the face of repeated government attempts to sow discord and force a return to ordinary service.18 The crown was ill-prepared for a prolonged cessation of the Parlement's judicial functions and was handicapped further by the absence of the judges to register its financial edicts. In a bid both to shake the resolve of the magistrates and to provide a judicial alternative, the government established a new court, the Chambre Rqyale, in September 1753. Any hopes that it would replace the Parlement were quickly dashed by the reluctance of lawyers, litigants, and the inferior courts to recognise the new tribunal. A war of attrition followed, after which the king was forced to seek a negotiated settlement with his legal officers in the spring and early summer of 1754. Throughout that year Louis XV, in close cooperation with the prince de Conti, worked hard to achieve the basis of a compromise. Their plan was to issue a new law which would resolve the difficulties caused by the Bull Unigenitus. The involvement of Conti, who was not even a member of the royal council, reflected both the king's habit of seeking external advice and the absence of any unity within the ministry. Chancellor de Lamoignon and the secretary of state for war, comte d'Argenson, were both sympathetic to the clergy, while the garde des sceaux, Machault d'Arnouville, who had recently exchanged the post of controleur general for the politically less exposed position of secretary of state for the navy, was reputedly in the opposite camp. While his enthusiasm for the Parlement was never more than lukewarm, his failed attempt to tax the clergy between 1749 Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. 506-609. Studies of the exile of 1753-4 include: Grellet-Dumazeau, Les exiles de Bourges; Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 61-4; and Rogister, 'Conflict and harmony'.

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IJ54-1774

and 1751 and his persistent rivalry with d'Argenson ensured that the council was unlikely to act in a decisive or united fashion. In order to achieve a successful and lasting reconciliation, Louis XV would have to exert his own authority.

11

As the magistrates returned to their places on 4 September 1754, they were secure in the knowledge that they had withstood the privations of exile and could anticipate concessions from the crown. The immediate task for the reassembled Parlement was to discuss the royal declaration of 2 September imposing silence on the religious controversy. The most recent historian of the crisis has argued that the magistrates were 'in no mood to reject the settlement', but his analysis seriously underestimates the strength of opposition within the court.19 Although many were hoping for a smooth return to their duties, such an outcome was far from certain because only a handful of magistrates had received prior warning of the declaration's contents.20 When the rapporteur began to read the declaration to the assembled chambers, the preamble caused general consternation.21 In the text, the king sharply reprimanded his magistrates for having suspended their judicial duties in May 1753, attributing their disgrace to that decision. He added that it was only his desire to show clemency that had prompted their recall.22 Such language was often employed in the resolution of crises between the king and the Parlement; it was an established convention that the monarch should not be seen to compromise his authority by negotiating with his subjects. Yet many of the magistrates, if not the majority, had never considered themselves to be guilty of any crime, and they felt fully justified in their actions. Indeed, the exile had provided them with a fifteen month period of enforced idleness, allowing ample time both for reflection and 19 20 21

22

Rogister, 'Conflict and harmony', p. 189. D'Argenson, Journal^ VIII, p. 342. AN U 1089, fol. 8. It is true that the idea of a law of silence had been widely discussed during 1754, but few, if any, magistrates were familiar with the terms of the preamble. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 157. BN Collection Joly de Fleury 2103, fol. 208.


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23

the refinement of their intellectual position. Their reluctance to shoulder sole responsibility for the events of May 1753 formed a major stumbling block to a settlement on the terms laid out by the government. The declaration itself contained three stipulations: the recall of the Parlement; the imposition of a law of silence relating to the religious controversy; and an amnesty for those charged or convicted for their actions in the course of the dispute. The first of these clauses posed few problems, and the third, while unlikely to be popular, was not sufficient to prevent compromise. The key element was the proposed law of silence. Louis XV declared that 'silence . . . is the most suitable means of assuring public peace and tranquillity'.24 He therefore ordered the Parlement 'to ensure that . . . there is nothing done, attempted, undertaken or innovated contrary to this silence'. Herein lay the potential attraction of the declaration for the magistrates. They were offered the opportunity to terminate the religious controversy by imposing silence in the name of the king on any cleric guilty of using billets de confession, or like device, as a means of depriving access to the sacraments. It might, therefore, have been predicted that the assembly of 4 September would enthusiastically register the new law. In fact, the declaration received a frosty reception, and the magistrates launched into a lengthy and tumultuous debate.25 Four main avis emerged from their deliberations, ranging from a dutiful request for registration 'purely and simply given that the declaration was the work of the king', to the extreme position of refusing to register the declaration altogether because 'the king used the words displeasure and clemency, and the public would have neither respect nor confidence in the Parlement' if it registered such a law. After further discussion the choice was reduced to two, either to name commissioners who would examine the content of the declaration, or to allow time for reflection by postponing the deliberation until the following day. The suggestion of appointing commissioners was innocuous in itself, and conformed to the standard procedure of delegating detailed 23

24 25

That the exiles were engaged in just such a process is made clear by the memoirs of Durey de Meinieres, cited by Grellet-Dumazeau, Les exiles de Bourges. BN Collection Joly de Fleury 2103, fol. 208. AN U 1089, fol. 8.

94


investigation of legislation to a small committee of judges. The danger for the government lay in the fact that any criticisms or modifications they proposed were almost certain to be adopted by their colleagues. In the case of the declaration of 2 September this was crucial because Louis XV had personally assisted in the drafting of the law. Any opposition was certain to be embarrassing for him, which would seem to explain the intervention of first president de Maupeou, who observed that 'the declaration was the work of the king himself, and that the nomination of commissioners could only be disagreeable to him'.26 His message had the desired effect, and the court voted by 122 to 58 in favour of continuing the deliberation the next day.27 The initial response to the law of silence made it plain that reconciliation was far from certain, and at least one observer in the Palais de justice adopted a pessimistic tone in his appraisal of events. He wrote: I leave you to make your own reflections on the conduct of the Parlement, and on the displeasure of the king at such an outcome . . . . I believe that we will issue remonstrances on this declaration. The first president appears to be in despair that the law has not been registered with one voice, and in effect there has never been a declaration so advantageous for the Parlement.28 In order to explain why the magistrates were so reluctant to accept the declaration, it is instructive to examine the initial reactions of some of the leading supporters of the judges. A good example is Louis-Adrien Le Paige, who, after initial hostility towards the law, overcame his suspicions to the extent of becoming fiercely committed to its defence.29 Little is known about the character and personal life of Le Paige, although no political history of eighteenth-century France 26

27 28 29

Both d'Argenson, Journal, VIII, p. 345 and E. J. F. Barbier, Chronique de la regence et du regne de Louis XV, iyi8-iy6^ (8 vols., Paris, 1857-8), VI, p. 53, were convinced that Louis XV was the driving force behind the declaration and perhaps even its author. BPR Collection Le Paige 512, fol. 62. AN U 1089, fol. 8. Even five years after the promulgation of the declaration, Le Paige was still prepared to write such lengthy polemics supporting the law as his La legitimite et la necessite de la loi de silence contre les reflexions d'un pretendu docteur en theologie de Vuniversite de . . . sur la declaration qui impose le silence of 1759.


95

30

is complete without him. Like many young lawyers of his generation, he was active in the Jansenist cause during the Parlement's quarrels with cardinal de Fleury, and he was converted to the extreme convulsionary movement during the furore generated by the alleged miracles of deacon Paris.31 His knowledge of canon law and of the Parlement's archives allowed him to establish a formidable reputation, but his fame was due to his Lettres historiques, published in 1753, which before 1771 had even more influence on parlementaire thought than Montesquieu's legendary UEsprit des lois. From 1753 until the suppression of the parlements in 1771, Le Paige was a trusted oracle of many Parisian magistrates, and the focus for a network of contacts with their colleagues in the provinces.32 His attitude towards the declaration of 2 September therefore represents a useful barometer of opinion and, writing on 4 September 1754, he set out a finely argued precis of the relative merits and disadvantages of the declaration.33 He considered the preamble to be an insult to the integrity of the court, principally because it ignored the events leading to the Parlement's cessation of service, and especially the behaviour of the more intransigent bishops. Even after reading the main body of the declaration, he was scarcely more enthusiastic. Although he saw no obstacle to the resumption of ordinary service, he believed that the instruction to the Parlement to ensure that there was nothing 'done, attempted, undertaken or innovated contrary to the silence' was too imprecise to be effective. Moreover, the declaration was weakened further by its mysterious silence on what he considered to be the root of the whole problem, namely Unigenitus. Le Paige was not an impartial witness, but his argument was full of common sense. As events after the registration of the law would prove, the very ambiguity of the declaration encouraged 30

31

32

33

We await a biography of Le Paige, but some background information can be gleaned from, among others, J. M. J. Rogister, 'Louis-Adrien Le Paige and the attack on De VEsprit and the Encyclopedie in 1759', English Historical Review 92 (1977), 522-39; Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits, pp. 6 0 - 1 , and Baker, Inventing the French revolution, pp. 31-58. Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions, p . 269, n. 87.

For a sample of his links with the Parlements of Grenoble, Toulouse, Besangon, and Rouen, see BPR Collection Le Paige 558, fols. 90-197. BPR Collection Le Paige 535, fol. 4, 'Precis des reflexions sur le projet de declaration presente au parlement le 4 septembre', dated 'ce mercredi 4 septembre 1754'.

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IJ54-1774

conflict rather than cooperation. It comes as no surprise, therefore, to learn that Le Paige concluded that little was to be gained from an acceptance of the law. He declared: that nothing is less likely than this project to fulfil the views of the king on the peace of the state, and the conservation of the rights of the crown, and it fits still less well with the desire of the first president to procure the gloire of the king, the well-being of the kingdom and the honour of his company. These forthright opinions make it clear that Le Paige was not the author of the declaration as has been claimed.34 Yet, in the absence of the complete minutes of the assembly of 5 September, the precis represents a valuable insight into the thoughts of its critics. Indeed, Robert de Saint-Vincent, who was one of the leading opponents of the law during the debates of 4-5 September 1754, used similar arguments to explain his behaviour when he reflected on the crisis over forty years later.35 The assembly of 5 September more than fulfilled the expectations of those who anticipated difficulties in securing the registration of the declaration. The chambers remained assembled for over seven hours of stormy debate as the court struggled to reach a consensus.36 The extent of the Parlement's problems can be gauged by the fact that no fewer than twenty-five different avis were offered for consideration. Yet after long and heated debate, the choice was finally reduced to two. The minority favoured a resumption of ordinary judicial service, while simultaneously inviting Louis XV to withdraw his declaration. It was a suggestion that closely resembled the position advocated by Le Paige, and it is significant that it was his friend the president Durey de Meinieres who proposed the idea. However, by the comparatively narrow margin of ninety to seventy the court voted in favour of registration, albeit with the addition of a clause explicitly forbidding any 'innovation in the administration of the sacraments5.37 In an accompanying arrete, the magistrates voted to send a 34 35 36

37

Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits, p. 61. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 157-8. The following is based upon an anonymous report of the assembly drawn from AN U 1089, fol. n . Supplementary evidence includes the accounts of Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 54-6, and d'Argenson, Journal, VIII, pp. 343-5. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 158.


97

delegation to inform the king of their decision, which he received on 7 September. Louis XV passed over the additional clause in silence, after which few could doubt the extent of the Parlement's victory. In theory at least, the judges were now in a position to act against the bishops should they persist in refusing the sacraments, and contemporaries were convinced that the law marked a great triumph for the Parlement.38 The extent of their victory soon dawned upon the magistrates themselves, and this would seem to account for the change of heart on the part of those who had initially opposed the settlement. Writing on 7 September, an anonymous correspondent informed Le Paige of his satisfaction at this new state of affairs.39 He argued that on the vexed question of the court's competence to intervene and prevent the public scandals arising from the refusal of the sacraments, the Parlement, by inserting the additional clause into its arret registering the law, had finally triumphed over the clergy. Robert de SaintVincent, another initial critic of the declaration, later put matters more bluntly when he wrote that the law was 'the only means possible, under the weak government of Louis XV, of containing the clergy'.40 Such grudging acceptance of the new declaration was symptomatic of the later problems encountered when the Parlement sought to uphold the law of silence. Many observers drew the same conclusion as Le Paige, namely that the absence of any specific reference to Unigenitus was a serious deficiency.41 A further weakness was Louis XV's refusal to allow the Parlement to enforce the law against dissenting bishops with any rigour, which meant that there was a continuing debate within the court about the most effective means to end the religious divisions. For those who were not convinced of the merits of the law, or who were subsequently frustrated by its ineffectiveness, the temptation to carry the assault one stage further and destroy the last vestiges of authority embodied in the Bull was to prove irresistible. 38

39 40 41

See: Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 53-6; d'Argenson, Journal, VIII, pp. 343-5; and Henault, Memoires, p. 208. BPR Collection Le Paige 535, fol. 6. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 158. In addition to the comments of Le Paige and Robert de Saint-Vincent cited above, see the correspondence between the prince de Conti and the procureur general, GuillaumeFrancpis-Louis Joly de Fleury, BN Collection Joly de Fleury 2103, fols. 348-410.

98

Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1*754-1774 in

A small group of dedicated Jansenist magistrates was responsible for leading the attack against both the bishops and Unigenitus. Jansenism had emerged within the catholic church in the early seventeenth century. Defining the movement with any degree of precision is a hazardous business and there was never a Jansenist creed. Inspired by the teachings of Saint Augustine, the Jansenists had come close to the theology of predestination, although they never claimed to be anything other than good catholics. They owed their name to the bishop of Ypres, Cornelius Jansen, author of the appropriately titled Augustinius, but he was more of a symbol than the leader of a movement within post-tridentine Catholicism noted for its austere, morally rigorous form of Christianity. Amongst those attracted by Jansenist teachings were such distinguished figures as Saint-Cyran, Pascal, and Arnauld whose links with the convent of Port-Royal provided the focus and inspiration for French Jansenism. The church authorities still traumatised by the protestant schism had treated the movement with suspicion and after fluctuating between persecution and compromise finally condemned what they believed to be Jansenism at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Prompted by Louis XIV, pope Clement XI published the Bull Vineam Domini in 1705 and ultimately its notorious sister Unigenitus in 1713. During the eighteenth century, the Jansenists in the Parlement retained their austere outlook, venerated the memory of PortRoyal and opposed the excessive recourse to the sacraments which they attributed, in part, to the nefarious effects of Jesuit casuistry.42 This was the basis of a traditional Jansenist outlook. The experience of persecution certainly caused divisions to emerge within their ranks. Much discredit resulted from the alleged miracles of the deacon Paris, a saintly young cleric who had died in 1727. Pilgrims flocked to the cemetery of Saint-Medard where he was buried, and immense crowds assembled to watch the writhing and contortions performed on his tomb by the infamous convulsionnaires.43 A handful

of parlementaires became

engaged in the cult of deacon Paris, although the majority of 42

43

The memoirs of Robert de Saint-Vincent offer the clearest guide to the attitudes and beliefs of a Jansenist magistrate. Kreiser, Miracles, convulsions, is the indispensable guide to this curious episode.


99

judges with Jansenist sympathies were more conservative. What united them was the belief that the persecution suffered at the hands of the ecclesiastical and secular authorities was nothing less than an attack upon the true Christian faith. Protecting what they believed to be the 'truth' was a duty born of religious conviction. Recent scholarship has produced a much clearer picture of the composition and inspiration of the parti janseniste.^ By using the work of Dale Van Kley and Peter Campbell, together with my own research, it is possible to offer the following list of Jansenist magistrates, or their sympathisers, in September 1754. They included: Henri-Philippe de Chauvelin; Ambroise-Julien Clement de Feillet; Claude Guillaume Lambert; Clement Charles Frangois de L'Averdy; Andre-Gerard-Claude Le Febvre de Saint-Hilaire; Pierre-Augustin Robert de Saint-Vincent; Charles-Frangois-Henri de Revol; Jean-Frangois-Claude Rolland de Challerange; Louis Davy de La Fautriere; and Jean-Baptiste-Maximilien Titon. Thus, the following assumes that in 1754 the magistrates listed above held religious beliefs which were irrefutably Jansenist.45 A number of other magistrates, not necessarily Jansenists, acted in unison with this group, both inside the Parlement, by speeches and votes of support, and outside by providing their help in researching the material used to further their cause. At the head of this list stands the erudite figure of president Durey de Meinieres who, in cooperation with Le Paige and his fellow lawyers Maultrot, Mey, and Lalource, formed the intellectual centre of the movement. Other magistrates who feature on the periphery of the group include the counsellors Jacques de Chavannes,46 Alexandre-Frangois de Murard,47 Saget,48 Gauthier de Besigny,49 44

45

46

47 48

49

The most thorough study is that of Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits, pp. 6-61, but the work of Merrick, Desacralization, pp. 78-104, is also valuable. For the actual definitions used by the two authors see Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits, pp. 6-37, and Campbell, 'Fleury', pp. 325-32. According to Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 130, Chavannes was an important figure during the religious quarrels. In 1753, he was exiled to Bourges and suffered a similar fate in 1757. Murard was secretary to the prince de Conti and was a close friend of Le Paige. Saget was one of the magistrates exiled to Bourges in 1753 and was therefore part of the so-called cabinet noir which was noted for its fierce opposition to the government. It was Gauthier who arranged for the publication of the grandes remonstrances in 1753, Flammermont, Remontrances, I, p. 609, and he regularly intervened in the court's debates to criticise the clergy.

ioo Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1774

Pierre-Louis-Anne Drouyn de Vaudeuil, Antoine-Louis-Avoye de Gars de Fremainville, and Jean-Pierre Lambert de Saint-Omer.50 The number of Jansenists and their sympathisers in the Parlement was no greater than 15 or 20 in a body whose full complement was nearer 250, and whose active voting membership was in the order of 150. It is, therefore, necessary to explain how such a statistically insignificant group was capable of exerting such a disproportionate influence on the actions of France's premier court of law. A word of caution is, however, required. The very nature of the system of venality makes it clear that the term parti janseniste should not be confused with a modern political party. Much of the success achieved by the Jansenists was the result of working closely together, researching material and preparing speeches prior to assemblies, and supporting each other during debates. Yet, even with such cooperation, disagreements were common, and it was not unusual to see one member of the parti opposing another. On occasions, their behaviour may have been intended to cast a smoke-screen around a joint objective, but it seems reasonable to assume that more serious divisions often existed. It is a factor of some significance because it reveals a common flaw in much recent scholarship. In their search for the origins and development of Jansenist constitutionalism, historians have concentrated upon the ideas of writers such as Le Paige, Mey, and Maultrot.51 They have subsequently assumed that these ideas were those of the Jansenist magistrates, or even the Parlement as a whole. Yet neither the parti janseniste nor their fellow judges, conform to such convenient labelling. There was, for example, an enormous gulf separating the saintly Lefebvre de Saint-Hilaire, a former disciple of deacon Paris, who rarely spoke on matters unconnected to the religious dispute, and Claude Guillaume Lambert, a stalwart of the parti during the 1750s, but with a burning ambition, ultimately fulfilled, to make a career in government.52 Differences of personality and temperament would 50 51

The activities of Drouyn are examined in chapter 10 below. See: D. C. Joynes, 'Parlementaires, peers and the parti janseniste', pp. 229-32, and his 'Jansenists and ideologues', pp. 7-15, 179-202; Echeverria, The Maupeou revolution, pp. 6-9; and Baker, Inventing the French revolution, pp. 36-7, 45.

52

Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 289-90, offers a flattering portrait of SaintHilaire, and Lambert's career is examined in detail below.


101

have considerable bearing on the long-term development of the parti, although it is probably fair to say that before the expulsion of the Jesuits in 1764 a shared sense of a religious mission kept the group united. Nowhere is this better illustrated than in months that followed the recall from exile. Historians have often stressed the thoroughness with which the Parlement sought to impose its authority in the name of the declaration of 2 September. That fact is undeniable; however, the inspiration behind the court's policing of the clergy was provided by the parti janseniste. Whether it was a matter of denouncing the latest case of refused sacraments, a bishop's pastoral letter, a controversial dissertation defended at the Sorbonne, or even a new papal encyclical, it was the Jansenist magistrates who were to the fore, urging the court to use its influence to counter the 'despotism' of Rome and the bishops. By concentrating upon a number of the more important examples of their activities, it is possible to demonstrate the prominence of the parti janseniste and the wider political issues that these clashes stimulated. Immediately after the judicial recess, on 27 November 1754, the Jansenist Clement de Feillet denounced a case of refused sacraments made in the parish of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont. The victim was the duchesse of Perth, a former convulsionnaire, whose husband had spent time in the Bastille on account of his beliefs.53 There was nothing very remarkable about his action; Clement had denounced one of the first recorded cases in 1750, and he was still bringing fresh examples to the court's attention in 1768.54 Together with Lambert and abbe Chauvelin, he formed part of a highly vocal trio who regularly dominated the Parlement's debates. Pursuit of the two clerics responsible proved to be fruitless as both had taken flight, and it was only after several lengthy assemblies that the court decided to send a secretary to intercede with the archbishop of Paris. Beaumont refused to cooperate with the magistrates, declaring that the priests were only obeying his instructions. He added that because he was accountable only to God, they would do well to cease meddling 53 54

D'Argenson, Journal, VIII, pp. 375-6, and Luynes, Memoires, XIV, pp. 15-17. See: BPR Collection Le Paige 512, fol. 88; Van Kley, Damiens, p. 109; and BS Ms 803, fols. 87-8, 389; 804, fols. 30, 181. Amongst others, Clement, Lambert de SaintOmer, and Gars de Fremainville continued to denounce these cases until 1771.

102 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV,

in ecclesiastical affairs.55 It would have been difficult to contrive a more calculated snub. By insulting the Parlement's jurisdictional competence, he caused any internal divisions to be forgotten and provoked the magistrates to protest about the refusal of the sacraments to a notorious convulsionnaire. The next day, 29 November, after hearing a report of Beaumont's reply, the court requested the first president to inform the king of what the archbishop had said. President de Mole spoke for the assembly on this occasion when he declared that 'the right of the court to take legal proceedings against the archbishop of Paris', or any other person who violated the law of silence, was 'incontestable'.56 The assembly of 27 November 1754 established the pattern followed by the Parlement until December 1756. An infraction of the law of silence was denounced before a plenary session of the court, usually by a Jansenist magistrate, and after deliberation the judges began an investigation against the priest responsible. If, as was commonly the case, he had acted under clear instructions from his bishop, then the Parlement sent a delegation to inform Louis XV of the breach of his law. The net effect of such initiatives tended to be the exile of the bishop responsible. After long months in exile, royal support for their position was clearly flattering to the magistrates, and in the early months of 1755 it seemed as if a new era of cooperation had dawned. Yet even during a period of cordial relations, it is possible to detect the influence of the parti janseniste. On 14 December 1754, the court voted to send the first president to inform Louis XV of a controversial pastoral letter written by the bishop of Orleans, dated 5 November. Although the majority endorsed this measure, it was the abbe Chauvelin who, in an impassioned speech, urged his colleagues to act.57 He accused the bishop of insulting the Parlement, breaking the law of silence, and trying to form an association of the clergy to defend what he described as 'the schism'. The character of the abbe Chauvelin provides a classic example 55 56 57

Ibid.; and Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 75-6. BPR Collection Le Paige 512, fols. 97-8. Ibid., fol. 140. The abbe Chauvelin was one of the Parlement's leading figures and on many occasions his interventions changed the course of the court's deliberations. For example, on 6 April 1756 a speech by Chauvelin not only won the votes of those who spoke after, but even caused those who had preceded him to change their opinions, AN XiA 8288, fols. 162-3 a n d BPR Collection Le Paige 513, fol. 232. His vituperative attack on the bishop of Orleans was a fine example of his art.


103

of the problems involved when assessing the attitudes and behaviour of the parlementaires. In his youth, he had acquired a certain notoriety as a womaniser and a minor literary figure, and towards the end of his life he was rumoured to have slipped back into his old ways.58 After his entry into the Parlement in 1738, he gradually altered his position. By the time of the crisis over the sacraments, he had become one of the recognised leaders of the parti janseniste and was one of only four magistrates imprisoned during the exile of 1753-4. After the recall of September 1754, he was at the height of his influence, and he dominated the court with his many denunciations and rambling, ungrammatical, but fiery speeches.59 The success of Chauvelin, and of the parti janseniste in general, lay in their ability to camouflage their Jansenism by generous use of judicial maxims and historical precedent. Chauvelin did not urge his colleagues to defend individual Jansenists; instead he argued that the court should uphold the law of silence.60 The law quickly came to symbolise the authority of the Parlement, its prestige and its jurisdiction; thus, to challenge the law was to insult the court itself. This, more than any other factor, explains the success of the parti janseniste and the diligence with which Le Paige, Lambert, Chauvelin, and others pursued their quest for new sources in order to provide the ammunition needed to sustain their arguments in court. Yet they were not always successful, and there is some evidence to suggest that their religious zeal occasionally shone too brightly for the comfort of their colleagues. IV

During January 1755, the Parlement sought to press its advantage over the archbishop of Paris who, after his outburst during the previous November, had been exiled to Conflans. The origin of the court's renewed demand for Beaumont to end the scandal over the sacraments was the sudden illness of the sieur Coquelin, a pliant priest who had frequently done the Parlement's bidding by administering the sacraments to those under the interdiction 58 59

60

Butler, Choiseul, pp. 629, 715, 830-1, and Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits, pp. 52-6. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 230, 241, offered these comments about his technique. AN XiA 8288, fol. 33 and BPR Collection Le Paige 512, fol. 214.

104 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1774

of the archbishop. Not surprisingly, when Coquelin's turn came to demand the last rites, he was refused, prompting the judges to send an emissary to Conflans. He was instructed to implore the archbishop to end his policy which the Parlement claimed was leaving entire parishes without pastoral care.61 There is no doubt that the situation was becoming serious in the capital, although the shortage of clergy was not helped by Jansenists pretending to be in extremis, only to revive once the local priest had been forced to flee for denying the sacraments.62 Beaumont, unimpressed, advised the magistrates to cease interfering in matters beyond their competence, and he reaffirmed his response of 28 November 1754. The Parlement received his reply on 31 January, and it was the target of universal condemnation. The senior president a mortier, Mathieu-Frangois de Mole, recommended that his colleagues follow the now established convention of informing the king of this latest example of Beaumont's contempt for the law of silence. In presenting his opinion, he described the archbishop's statement as contrary to the king's authority and added 'that he decides haughtily that the secular tribunals are incompetent, persists with his previous responses, admits being responsible for practices which have left entire parishes without spiritual guidance, attacks the royal authority itself, and that in such circumstances he thought it essential to put the response before the king.'63 This was the tone employed with great frequency by the magistrates in their criticisms of the bishops, and it was these arguments that provided the justification for their intervention in the affair of the sacraments. By persisting with his policy, the archbishop of Paris not only flouted the law of silence, but he also showed contempt for the Parlement. Upholding their authority and jurisdictional competence was therefore crucial in determining the magistrates to act. Maupeou travelled to Versailles on 3 February and informed the king of Beaumont's behaviour, which he painted in the darkest hues.64 The first president was a skilled practitioner of the art of conciliating both Louis XV and his colleagues, and 61 62 63 64

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 1-2. At least according to Miromesnil, BN Ms Fr 10986, fols. 136-7. AN XiA 8288, fol. 33 and BPR Collection Le Paige 512, fol. 213. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 2-3.


105

he received generous applause for his efforts from a plenary session of the Parlement the next day. Moreover, he had also struck a favourable chord with the king who, after a brief delay, summoned him on 21 February. The monarch announced that his displeasure with the conduct of the archbishop had determined him to impose a harsher exile on the offender. It has been argued that their success encouraged the magistrates to mount a full-scale offensive against Unigenitus culminating in the arret de reglement of 18 March 1755, which, however briefly, rendered the Bull ineffective in France.65 There is no doubt that they had grounds to feel optimistic. Louis XV was personally committed to imposing the law of 2 September,66 and the Palais de Justice was awash with rumours that Beaumont would be told either to resign or face the wrath of the Parlement alone.67 Yet on closer inspection the events of 18 March reveal a far more complex picture. The first assumption which requires careful scrutiny is that the Parlement had won a major victory when Beaumont and his fellow bishops of Orleans and Troyes took the road bound for exile. While it was evident that their disgrace reflected well on the Parlement, it failed to stem the flow of cases of refused sacraments. Despite having incurred the wrath of Louis XV, it was relatively simple for a bishop to continue to control the pastoral life of his flock. Exile may well have been inconvenient, but it was by no means rigorous, and such illustrious victims of royal displeasure were certainly not held incommunicado. In fact, for the magistrates the exile of a bishop had one very real disadvantage. The king, in informing the Parlement of his decision, made it clear that exile was punishment enough, thus preventing the court from pursuing the offender through the established legal forms.68 His policy was poorly conceived because, on the one hand, he was asking the judges to impose 65

66 67 68

See: ibid., pp. x-xi; Carre, Le regne de Louis XV, pp. 240-3; Godard, Refus de sacrements, p p . 86—8; a n d Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, p . 6 8 - 9 . Luynes, Memoires, XIV, p. 53. BN Ms Fr 14039, 15 February 1755. See, for example, the instructions of Louis XV to the first president announcing the exile of the archbishop of Paris to Lagny-sur-Marne, Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. 3, the comments of Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 82, 98; and M. Boutry, Choiseul a Rome, 1754-1757- Lettres et memoires inedits (Paris, 1895), p. 14, n. 1, Rouille to Choiseul, 5 December 1754.


the law of silence, while, on the other, he removed any means of their effectively doing so. It was the resulting frustration in the court, rather than arrogance, which offered a window of opportunity to the parti janseniste and inspired the renewed assault against Unigenitus in March 1755. On 18 March the Parlement had been assembled to hear an appel comme d'abus resulting from a case of refused sacraments in the cathedral chapter of Orleans. The case was not controversial, and these appeals tended to be accepted almost as a matter of routine. Thus, it was with considerable surprise that in the course of the debate the court heard councillor Anjorrant launch into a lengthy tirade against Unigenitus.69 He declared that: it was finally necessary to work seriously in order to remedy the evil caused by the Bull Unigenitus, that it was finally time to give peace to the state by opposing forcefully a Bull which the clergy have used for so long to torment the king's subjects, and against which the Parlement has so often protested in its remonstrances. [At this point] He imagined himself faced with an enormous tree, in the shadow of which the clergy practised their criminal manoeuvres and established their system of independence, that this tree continually sprouted branches with . . . the most bitter fruits; that it was finally necessary to take an axe to the trunk of the tree and to cut it right down to the root, destroying the false pretexts and the schismatic measures practised by the clergy to the great detriment of the state and of religion. Anjorrant's colleagues were astonished by his outburst. By nature timid and prone to stammer, he had never previously spoken in a plenary session, and his career was otherwise typical of a family that could trace its roots back to the time of Saint Louis without ever having served in high office.70 More powerful forces than Anjorrant were at work; the whole assembly had been engineered by the parti janseniste, possibly with the cooperation of the first president. The speech had been written by the abbe Chauvelin, and then passed to the innocuous Anjorrant. Such a dramatic intervention, delivered from an unexpected quarter, not only achieved 69

70

BS Ms 801, fols. 224-8, and Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 166-7. The account of Robert de Saint-Vincent is a remarkable testimony to his memory as it is very close to the register of the Parlement. He does, however, shed some interesting additional light on the motives of those involved. The quip was from Senac de Meilhan, Le gouvernement, p. 129. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 166, made a similar comment.


107

additional impact, but also reduced the danger of punitive action from the government.71 The decision to attack Unigenitus had been much discussed in a comite of sympathetic magistrates beforehand, and the ubiquitous Le Paige had written a memorandum outlining possible tactics.72 According to Robert de Saint-Vincent, who was involved in these preparations, the idea of renewing the appeal of 1717 to a future church council was seriously discussed. Such a daring gesture was eventually dropped in favour of an arret de reglement, presumably because a standard judicial procedure would gather wider support in the court. Despite their sound preparation, the Jansenists were still forced to battle against strong opposition. Realising that they were in danger of falling into a trap, the rapporteur, abbe d'Hericourt, and president de Cotte tried in vain to blunt the attack.73 D'Hericourt, who had already given his opinion, objected that the subject under discussion had changed, and was therefore invalid. His argument was soundly based because it was an established convention that once a debate had started it was impossible either to interrupt the delivery of opinions, or address a separate issue, but he received little support. Instead, the abbe Chauvelin led a chorus of protest against the right of d'Hericourt to speak. The president de Cotte, suspicious of the emerging support for Anjorrant's motion, made an effort to soften its impact by reminding the court of the principles behind the law of silence, and its duty to uphold them. Moreover, he made it perfectly clear that he considered the attack on Unigenitus to be motivated by 'a partisan spirit well removed from the way of thinking typical of messieurs, and that it was to be feared that those opposed to the Bull Unigenitus would draw advantage by treating it [the arret] as a trophy.'74 Although his speech attracted considerable support, he was virulently attacked by a coterie of Jansenists including Clement de Feillet, Lambert, Robert de Saint-Vincent, and most effectively by the irrepressible Chauvelin. According to the magistrate 71

72

73 74

BS Ms 801, fols. 225-6. Chauvelin frequently persuaded other magistrates to deliver his speeches, presumably because his colleagues were suspicious of his intentions. BPR Collection Le Paige 535, fol. 139, and Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 165-7. BS Ms 801, fols. 224-8. Ibid., fols. 226-7.


recording the debate, Chauvelin had 'more than sufficiently demonstrated that he was the real author of the avis opened by M. Anjorrant'. Had the first president thrown his weight behind d'Hericourt and Cotte the tide might have been turned, but, if anything, he sided with their opponents.75 Maupeou's behaviour is difficult to explain, especially in the light of rumours circulating the previous evening which claimed that he was extremely angry with the 'vivacity5 in the chambers.76 The most likely answer is that he was allowing the Jansenists to seize the initiative in the hope that they would be subsequently blamed for the almost inevitable government backlash. It is also conceivable that he was being encouraged by those at court or in the ministry who were sympathetic to the Parlement to push the attack against the clergy to its limits. Whatever the truth of the matter, the first president's silence helped Chauvelin to victory by the narrow margin of sixty-six votes to sixty-two. The result was an arret which temporarily destroyed the authority of Unigenitus in France.77 Chauvelin's success, and the manner in which it was achieved, would seem to support the thesis that the Parlement's victory over the clergy in the period after 1754 was not as complete as some have assumed. If the law of silence had enabled the court to dictate the terms for the administration of the sacraments, and to curb the religious controversy generally, it seems less plausible that Chauvelin could have attracted the support of sixty-five colleagues for his assault on Unigenitus. Nevertheless, his arret marked a great triumph for the parti janseniste, whose supporters noisily saluted their victory in the streets of the capital.78 Their success was short-lived because the display of sectarianism shown on 18 March caused unease within the Parlement, at Versailles and even in Rome.79 On the following day, the Parlement sought to press its advantage by summoning several priests for interrogation on the content of the verbal instructions given to them by the archbishop of Paris. Through these legally dubious means they obtained further 75 76 77 78

79

Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 165-7. BN Ms Fr 14039, fol. 28. The arret is quoted in Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. 4. Details on the popular reaction to the arret are to be found in Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 144-5 a n d d'Argenson, Journal, VIII, p. 452. Boutry, Choiseul a Rome, p. 43-6.


109

evidence against Beaumont, and the court then had the audacity to send Maupeou, on 23 March, to inform Louis XV of the archbishop's misdemeanours. This time there was to be no royal approbation of the Parlement's diligence, and on 4 April the king quashed the arret of 18 March, and reaffirmed Unigenitus as a law of church and state. Moreover, on 7 April, in his response to the first president's initiative of 23 March, Louis expressed his displeasure with the recent conduct of the Parlement.80 Although the king avoided any direct reference to the arret of 18 March, he criticised the practice of hearing cases of appel comme d'abus before the assembled chambers and not simply before the grand}chambre. It was at best a dubious position for the government to adopt, because the Parlement had long considered that the religious issue merited the convening of a plenary session. In response, the judges sent the first president to deliver a mild protest to the king.81 These representations were intended to convey the sense of injury caused by the royal reprimand, but Maupeou also presented a spirited defence of the need for an appel comme d'abus to be heard before a plenary session. His discourse was sufficient to mollify the king, who merely repeated his desire for the Parlement to execute his declaration with equity and moderation. This exchange suggests that neither side wished to provoke a serious crisis, and that Louis had not deviated from his policy of settling the religious controversy in collaboration with the Parlement.82 The reluctance of the magistrates to press the matter seems to have owed a great deal to the earlier success of the Jansenists. Many of their colleagues, dismayed by the manner in which they had been manipulated on 18 March, were thereafter on their guard against such duplicity. Le Paige noted sadly that 'all the different circles in the court have since been united in criticising the arret of 18 March as imprudent. As a result there has been a weakening of the corps, and a sort of distrust towards those members of the Parlement who were influential in this 80 81 82

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 5-6. Ibid., pp. 6-12. Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 136-7, argues that this episode marked a distinct shift in the king's attitude towards the Parlement, with the monarch moving away from a one-sided alliance with the magistrates in favour of a policy of balance between the judiciary and the clergy. It seems equally likely, however, that Louis wanted to give the court a simple reprimand for its recent excesses.

i io Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1774

project.'83 If Maupeou had hoped to tempt the parti janseniste into making a false move on 18 March, he would appear to have succeeded. Thereafter he pursued a policy of careful management, especially after the General Assembly of the Clergy began its deliberations in May 1755. He tried to persuade his colleagues to steer clear of ecclesiastical affairs, hinting that their moderation would not only please the king, but also deprive the bishops of any opportunity of criticising their conduct.84 On the eve of the judicial vacations in September, the court voted unanimously to prolong its sitting, officially to clear the backlog of cases pending from the recent exile, but in reality to survey the activities of the assembled clergy. By the autumn of 1755 there was, therefore, something of an uneasy stand off. The magistrates continued to deal harshly with clerics found guilty of contravening the law of silence, while the more extreme members of the episcopate, headed by Beaumont, remained willing to sacrifice their subordinates in their crusade for Unigenitus. In order to restore peace and to prevent a renewed escalation of the conflict, the government needed to succeed in its own quest for the magic formula capable of ending this corporate civil war.

The personal preference of Louis XV, who genuinely sought a way out of the impasse, was to find a compromise solution acceptable to both sides. It was a horribly difficult task because Beaumont and his supporters in the episcopate were as intransigent as the Jansenists in the Parlement. The bishops were also adept at turning the religious scruples of the king, and the influence of the queen, dauphin, and daughters of Louis XV to partisan advantage. The king hoped that a ruling from pope Benedict XIV, an Augustinian with no love for Unigenitus, would pacify the situation. Tentative and at times tortuous negotiations involving Versailles, Rome, and the French episcopate continued throughout 1755 and during most of the following year.85 For much of 83

84 85

BPR Collection Le Paige 535, fol. 155. Barbier, Chronique, VI, p. 145, made a similar observation. BN Ms Fr 14039, fol. 66, 27 May 1755. See: Boutry, Choiseul a Rome, pp. 68-182; Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 70-2; Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 141—3; and Choiseul, Memoires, pp. 106-18.


111

that time, the religious issue ceased to dominate the attention of the magistrates due to the combined effects of the Grand Conseil affair and the struggle over the government's imposition of a second vingtieme to pay for the war with England.86 However, the Parlement returned to the religious issue with renewed vigour in the late summer of 1756. Predictably, it was the archbishop of Paris who acted as the catalyst, this time on account of his refusal to appoint a superior to a Parisian congregation, the Religieuses Hospitalieres de la Misericorde de Jesus in the Faubourg Saint-Marcel, suspected of Jansenism.87 On 27 August, the Parlement sent a summons to Beaumont ordering him to provide for the appointment of a superior within twenty-four hours. With his customary alacrity, the archbishop refused to sign the document.88 His reply was conveyed to a plenary session of the Parlement on 31 August. The rapporteur, Pasquier, opened the debate with a typically mild speech and suggested sending a further summons to Beaumont. It was the one policy certain to fail. He did not go long unchallenged, for the abbe Chauvelin and his 'consorts', Lambert and Clement, were soon urging their colleagues to take stronger action. Chauvelin, anxious to influence the tenor of the deliberations as quickly as possible, had, on this occasion, written a speech for Titon of the grand'chambre who, because of his age, spoke before any of the abbe's other likely collaborators. Speaking through the mouth of Titon, Chauvelin noted the extreme unlikelihood of the archbishop behaving differently, even if the Parlement repeated its request. He argued instead that the court should instigate an appel comme d'abus against the archbishop's reply, and appoint the doyen of the cures of Paris to preside at the election of a superior for the Hospitalieres. His plan was based upon the premise that the congregation in question was a hospital, and therefore subject to the jurisdiction of the Parlement. Chauvelin succeeded in stirring the court, but not in his favour. President d'Ormesson, outraged by Chauvelin's ploy, rejected his argument and its 86

87

88

Swann, iGrand Conseil affair'. The problems caused by the second vingtieme are discussed in chapter 6 below. AN U 1106, fols. 98-100. For the appointment of a new superior, it was necessary for the archbishop to instruct a cleric to preside at the election, or to make the appointment by his own authority. BS Ms 801, fols. 393-5, contains an account of the debate.

112 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, i1/'54-177'4

premise that the court could deputise for the archbishop by ordering the doyen of the Parisian cures to act. D'Ormesson's intervention provoked a movement against the latest machinations of Chauvelin in support of the more restrained policy of sending a further summons to Beaumont. Chauvelin's failure was manifest when his colleagues refused to allow him to extend the already long assembly with fresh denunciations. Yet his defeat was likely to be limited in both effect and duration, for, as our anonymous observer concluded at the end of his transcript, failure to end the affair in the three days remaining before the next plenary session would see the triumph of the abbe. His comment, although subsequently proven to be unnecessarily pessimistic, merits consideration. The effectiveness of Chauvelin, on this and on many other occasions, depended upon the failure of more moderate policies to resolve a problem. When this occurred, the parti janseniste was adept at proposing alternatives, which, although superficially in accord with established legal precedent, tended to commit the court to a more radical course. If other magistrates were able to expose the sophistry or weaknesses in their arguments, as president d'Ormesson had done, then the Jansenists could often be defeated. The assembly of 3 September was treated to the full force of Chauvelin's long-winded rhetoric. In a speech that lasted for nearly two hours, he castigated a pastoral instruction written by the constitutionnaire bishop of Auxerre, the excesses of Beaumont, the Jesuits, and a host of other favourite targets.89 The climax of his performance was a direct appeal to the Almighty 'in order that the Parlement should take the most just and effective measures to control a bishop who causes disorder in both his own diocese and the state'.90 Divine intervention was not forthcoming, and Chauvelin again failed to impress his audience. His speech produced the wry comment that it was presented 'in the taste and the style of the Nouvelles Ecclesiastiques . . . and it appeared to all those who heard it as nothing more than a literal extract of all that had been published in the Nouvelles Ecclesiastiques during the last eighteen months.' As a parting shot he observed that 'nearly all those present had appeared profoundly bored'. 89 90

AN U 1106, fols. 103-28. BS Ms 801, fols. 397-8.


113

From the reaction to his speech, it is evident that in normal circumstances the majority of judges were not prepared to follow the radical course charted by Chauvelin. This wariness towards his ideas was also apparent when the court turned its attention to the issue of the Hospitalieres - Beaumont having followed tradition on receipt of the second summons. Titon, no doubt for the sake of form, advanced the same motion as before, but only thirty-one magistrates were prepared to offer their support. The majority, some eighty-nine in all, was more circumspect, adopting the avis of Murard, who suggested that the court send one of its clerical counsellors to preside over the election of a new superior. It was an astute initiative which side-stepped the difficult issue of proper jurisdiction inherent in Chauvelin's attempt to delegate the doyen of the Parisian cures.91 Clearly, the dispute over the election of a superior for a religious congregation was of comparatively minor importance, but the degree of awareness shown on the part of some senior members of the Parlement towards the activities of the Jansenists is enlightening. In periods of relative tranquillity, it was possible to limit the impact of the zealots. It was only when the government misjudged the temper of the court that the parti janseniste was able to seize the initiative. It is also possible that after their coup of 18 March 1755, the Jansenists were more closely scrutinised by their senior colleagues. Once again, it is worth reflecting upon the consequences of a weak and divided government upon the conduct of the magistrates. Clear and consistent treatment of issues such as Unigenitus or the sacramental controversy would have done much to calm the temper of the Parlement, making the task of the first president much easier. Instead, the king failed to maintain a firm grip on affairs, and the renewed crisis of the last weeks of 1756 allowed the standard raised by Chauvelin and his allies to act as a rallying point for a wider section of the court. VI

Before leaving for the annual autumn recess on 7 September, the judges left strict instructions for the Chambre des Vacations to 91

AN U 1106, fols. 129, 140.


watch over the conduct of the clergy. The chamber pursued its task with diligence and it dealt firmly with a number of cases of refused sacraments.92 However, the real challenge emerged on Sunday 19 September in a sermon read by Beaumont from his pulpit at Conflans. The archbishop distributed a pastoral instruction devastating in its criticism of the Parlement. Not content with denouncing its pretensions in the religious field, he also attacked the judicial competence of the Parlement by forbidding the faithful to read a number of its arrets93 Still more disturbing from the perspective of the magistrates was the simultaneous publication of similar tracts from other dioceses, which seemed to presage the much trumpeted criminal association of the episcopate so often predicted by the parti janseniste94 The Chambre des Vacations, alerted to the action of Beaumont on 24 October, published an arret forbidding the publication of any tract in contravention of the law of silence, but it deferred any possible judicial action until the Parlement reassembled in November. Before going into recess, on 26 October, the chamber also issued an arrete calling upon its principal subordinate tribunal in Paris, the Chatelet, to guard against any further infringements of the law. Inspired by its new found authority, the Chatelet passed an extraordinary arret on 4 November ordering Beaumont's pastoral letter to be publicly lacerated and burnt. The smouldering feud between the episcopate and the Parlement was clearly beginning to flare, which augured badly for the opening of the new judicial session on 12 November. Louis XV tried to intervene by using the trusted formula of exiling the archbishop, this time to the distant town of La Roque in the Quercy. While hardly a convincing solution, it did buy the king time in which to arrange a more permanent settlement. After the traditional Saint Martin's Day mass, the magistrates were impatient to hear the reports of the Chambre des Vacations and the first president. He gave an account of a recent meeting with the king, who had expressed his desire for the Parlement to refrain from any new initiatives until he had finalised his own 92 93 94

Ibid., fols. 157, 171-2. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 148-50. Van Kley, Damiens, p. 147. By 14 November the Parlement had begun investigations into publications by the bishops of Meaux, Amiens, Chartres, Tours, Troyes, SaintPons, Metz, Auxerre, and Orleans.


115

plans. The magistrates readily concurred with his request, allowing Louis until 24 November to defuse a rapidly escalating crisis. As was the case so often during his reign, the good intentions of the king failed to avert further trouble. Louis had based his peacemaking efforts on the benevolent intervention of pope Benedict XIV, a policy of considerable merit pursued at Rome by the capable ambassador Stainville, the future due de Choiseul.95 Negotiations had been taking place since at least December 1754, and the king had been careful to consult those ministers, prelates, and magistrates in whom he had confidence.96 The result of this diplomacy was the papal encyclical Ex Omnibus which arrived at Versailles on 27 October. Although it called upon the faithful to accept the Bull Unigenitus or risk their eternal salvation, the encyclical was nevertheless intended to make the use of billets de confession practically impossible by only denying notorious sinners the sacraments.97 Unfortunately, the government had not devised a plan to draw advantage from Ex Omnibus and the political capital to be gained from its prompt enforcement was lost. Copies were initially circulated to the French bishops, but its contents gradually became known to a wider public, without the necessary registration in the Parlement of Paris.98 The existence of a rogue papal encyclical circulating in the kingdom was a recipe for disaster, for it played directly into the hands ofthe parti janseniste. When the Parlement assembled for its scheduled plenary session of 24 November, the Jansenists neatly demonstrated their ability to seize opportunities by taking the offensive. The abbe Chauvelin, having procured a copy of Ex Omnibus, had prepared a speech of denunciation, and it was only with difficulty that the first president was able to dissuade him from acting.99 Tempers were, therefore, already heated before the avocat general, Joly de Fleury, announced that the king had ordered the Parlement to abstain from pursuing the bishops who had published tracts contravening the law of silence. The only compensation for the 95

96 97 98

99

See: Boutry, Choiseul a Rome, pp. 68-182; Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 70-2; Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 141-3; and Choiseul, Memoires, pp. 106-18. Boutry, Choiseul a Rome, pp. 68, 149. Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 141-3, 150, and Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 68-72. It was one of the Parlement's cherished principles that it should register all papal bulls, letters and encyclicals before publication. BS Ms 801, fol. 411.

116 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1 JJ4.

court was to be informed that His Majesty had exiled several of the more troublesome bishops.100 During the debate that followed, the senior president a mortier, Mole, and the rapporteur, Pasquier, saw no good reason to deny the king a delay of a week if required, although Pasquier did propose that the court make representations about the irregularity of such suspensions of normal procedure.101 His moderation was not matched elsewhere, and the councillor Gauthier de Besigny, another magistrate sympathetic to the parti janseniste, introduced the idea of ordering the gens du roi to report on the condition of every diocese within the Parlement's jurisdiction. Ostensibly this was to provide the magistrates with sufficient information to decide whether to accord the delay. Yet his argument was pure sophistry because by discussing the state of each diocese the Parlement would violate the very request under discussion: a point not lost on several of his colleagues. They were powerless, however, in the face of an onslaught led by Chauvelin, Clement de Feillet, and 'consorts', who conjured up a terrifying vision of schismatic bishops threatening the harmony of church and state. Robert de Saint-Vincent spoke so violently of 'a conspiracy and criminal association' amongst the bishops that he offended many in his audience. Despite the ferocity of their language, the magistrates of the parti janseniste won a substantial victory with ninety votes cast in favour of their suggestion and only thirty-five against. As a result, the gens du roi were ordered to report on the condition of each diocese within the Parlement's jurisdiction on the following day. The government's prevarication had again deprived its supporters in the Parlement of a line to follow, and they were unable to prevent the resurgence of the parti janseniste. The mounting frustration in the court began to assume threatening proportions for the government during the assembly of 25 November. Having listened to the report of the gens du roi on the situation of the dioceses within its jurisdiction, the president de Mole prepared to open the debate.102 Before he could do so, he was interrupted by the counsellor Lefebvre de Saint-Hilaire brandishing a copy Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. 150. BS Ms 801, fols. 411-13. The debate is recorded in ibid., fols. 415-21.


117

of Ex Omnibus. Like Chauvelin on the previous day, Saint-Hilaire had been lectured by the first president about the need to avoid the eclat of denouncing a document of such importance. Maupeou immediately repeated his appeal before the entire assembly and appeared to win the day when, despite Saint-Hilaire's desire to continue, the absence of support forced him to halt. The deliberation recommenced and proceeded to follow the pattern of its predecessor. The voices calling for deference in face of the king's explicit request were drowned by a wave of opposition directed by Chauvelin and his lieutenants Clement and Lambert. As on so many occasions, they were able to sway the court, and an arrete proposed by Lambert calling for representations about the threat to the law of silence gained near unanimous approval. The pattern in these deliberations, so apparent here, was for Chauvelin to present a rousing speech in order to stir the emotions of the court. Then, either Clement or Lambert, and often both, would make shorter, less rhetorical speeches, which, while praising the sentiments of the abbe, tended to produce a successful motion shorn of some of his more inflammatory language. With this important question settled, Saint-Hilaire returned to the fate of Ex Omnibus. Maupeou and Pasquier, knowing the embarrassment likely to result if Saint-Hilaire succeeded, tried to place procedural objections in his path, but to no avail. Despite the protests of all the presidents of the court, and of many of their colleagues, Saint-Hilaire denounced the encyclical 'as a venture of the Roman court which one could not oppose too strongly. He said that this encyclical contained the most horrible principles, maxims which were totally contrary to the laws of the state, that, in a word, one could not act with too much rigour against a like work.5 His tirade merits comment as the encyclical was, if anything, sympathetic to the position of the parlementaires. The anger of Saint-Hilaire appears, therefore, as a visceral response to an act of papal authority, born of hostility to the institution of the Holy See. As a former disciple of deacon Paris, Saint-Hilaire was one of the most zealous members of the parti janseniste and nothing short of the complete renunciation of Unigenitus was likely to meet with his approval. Such an outcome was never feasible, but his intransigence, mirrored by that of Chauvelin, Clement, and Robert de Saint-Vincent


threatened to ruin the policy of pacification being conducted by Louis XV and Benedict XIV. Maupeou, understandably concerned, tried desperately to stop Saint-Hilaire. Predictably, his remonstrations met stiff opposition from Chauvelin, Clement, Lambert, and Robert de Saint-Vincent, with the latter demanding to know the motives for the first president's behaviour. Placed in such a dilemma, Maupeou had little alternative but to allow a discussion of the encyclical. Mole spoke for the grand'chambre when he argued that it should be added to the other subjects discussed by the court and left to the good offices of the first president in his representations to the king. Clement de Feillet attempted unsuccessfully to rally support for Saint-Hilaire, but he failed to convince the court of the need to take drastic action. The opinion of Mole prevailed with fifty-seven votes as against forty-six for Clement de Feillet. On two separate occasions, therefore, the parti janseniste had failed to muster a majority for its proposed condemnation of Ex Omnibus. Had Louis XV offered a clear lead, then the first president and his supporters in the grand}chambre could almost certainly have contained any further opposition to an encyclical that was in no sense detrimental to the interests of the court. Perhaps the most sensible step would have been to send Ex Omnibus with the necessary letters patent to be registered in the Parlement. Instead, Louis continued to temporise presumably because he wished to obtain the complete agreement of the episcopate. He may also have been wary of allowing the Parlement free rein to criticise the text. With the intransigent core of Jansenists certain to condemn the encyclical, it is possible that the first president was unable to guarantee its straightforward registration. The voting figures for the debates of 24-25 November were certainly very low, which implies that many judges had either failed to return from their vacations, or were avoiding these increasingly contentious debates. Their absence was a further bonus for the Jansenists, and it was undoubtedly a handicap for the hard-pressed Maupeou. These factors help to explain why Louis XV chose not to send the encyclical to the Parlement, although his reticence weakened the forces of moderation and, on 7 December, Saint-Hilaire finally won a majority for his condemnation of the encyclical.103 103

Van Kley, Damiens, p. 152.


119

Louis XV received the court's representations from Maupeou on 1 December. Based upon Lambert's original arrete, they were an eloquent justification of the right of the Parlement to initiate judicial proceedings against those who had breached the law of silence.104 The king was content to reply that he would inform the court of his intentions. Naturally, it was not permitted for the Parlement to question the royal reply, but the Jansenists did not care to wait for the end of the government's procrastinations. In yet another fiery speech, delivered on 2 December, Chauvelin drew attention to the scandalous behaviour of the bishop of Orleans.105 In an earlier clash involving the cathedral chapter of that city, the Parlement had ordered the erection of a marble tablet and the performance of an annual service for the repose of the soul of a Jansenist cleric who had been deprived of the last rites by his bishop. The bishop retaliated by forbidding the service and, when the Parlement employed its authority to command a cure to conduct the ceremony, he obtained a lettre de cachet exiling the priest responsible to Angers. Chauvelin and his two 'consorts', Clement and Lambert, followed their standard tactic as first the abbe outlined the terrible consequences if the company failed to act. He argued that the lettre de cachet was nothing less than ca surprise to the king's religion' and declared that it threatened to 'break the happy, natural and salutary harmony between the monarch and the law, the sovereign and his Parlement, which has been confirmed and maintained until present by the declaration of 2 September 1754.' Here was Chauvelin at his most persuasive, eulogising the merits of the declaration of September 1754 and the need for harmony and cooperation between the king and Parlement. Yet he was speaking in favour of a mass for the soul of an acknowledged Jansenist cleric. With Chauvelin's speech completed, Clement de Feillet gave his full assent to these views and was followed by Lambert, L'Averdy, and Robert de Saint-Vincent. Their call for fresh representations was easily adopted with seventy-four votes in favour and only nineteen cast against, despite the ambiguous nature of the king's reply on 1 December.106 Once again, the number of votes cast was very low which almost certainly assisted 104 105 106

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 150-3. AN U 1106, fols. 240-6. BS Ms 801, fol. 425.


the parti janseniste in its campaign to maintain pressure on the crown. Louis XV deferred the reception of this latest catalogue of parlementaire grievances until 10 December, when Maupeou defended the Parlement's actions in the case of the cathedral chapter of Orleans.107 These representations produced another evasive response from the king, but his silence served as a shield, for on the following day the royal master of ceremonies entered the court with a lettre de cachet, informing the Parlement of a lit de justice to be held on 13 December. Temporarily at least, the government's prevarications were over. Nevertheless, the temper of the Parlement, with the parti janseniste in the ascendant, implied that a blow struck in favour of the episcopate would meet with stern resistance. As the carriage carrying Louis XV approached the Palais de justice on the morning of 13 December, the stage was set for a dangerous confrontation.

VII

In December 1756, the judiciary and clergy were as estranged as ever, and the crown was apparently no nearer a solution than it had been in May 1753, or September 1754. In the short term, therefore, the law of silence had failed to bring about the reconciliation that its authors had so earnestly desired. A balanced assessment of the reasons behind that failure must acknowledge the influence of genuine religious feeling on both sides. Undoubtedly, the archbishop of Paris and his supporters were damagingly obstinate in their refusal to see the wider implications of their coercive use of the sacraments. Yet it is important to remember that the constitutionnaire bishops saw Jansenism as a dangerous heresy in the body of the French church. For the members of the parti janseniste, religious commitment was also a powerful motivating force, something that historians have often underestimated. The Jansenists considered themselves to be the persecuted defenders of 'the truth' and it was from this belief that their tenacious opposition derived. The strain imposed by constitutionnaire bishops on the one hand, and Jansenist magistrates 107

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 153-5.


121

on the other, was sufficient to ensure that the pacific intentions of Louis XV were not enough to end the crisis. Perhaps more remarkable was the ability of the parti janseniste to dominate proceedings within the Parlement. It was Jansenist magistrates such as abbe Chauvelin, Clement de Feillet, and Robert de Saint-Vincent, and not some yet to be identified gallican, who denounced the bishops, Unigenitus, and even a papal encyclical. Yet, if the majority of judges did not share the religious outlook of the zealous few, it is true that they applied the law assiduously for over two years. It could be argued that the position adopted by the majority was essentially gallican; but if this was the case then the term needs a broad definition. Gallicanism should not be divorced from the wider issues of corporate prestige, jurisdictional competence, and privilege which shaped the mentalite of a court of law.108 Finally, the ambiguities of royal policy undermined the effectiveness of the law of silence and assisted the efforts ofthe parti janseniste. In September 1754, Louis XV had instructed his judges to uphold the silence and punish those who disobeyed. Yet when they sought to pursue the bishops who were ultimately responsible for the continuing scandals, the king quickly stopped their investigations. The understandable frustration of even the most moderate magistrates provided the ideal climate for the Jansenists. Thus, despite the law of silence, a combination of zealotry, corporate conflict, and the absence of firm leadership ensured that the religious quarrels continued just as noisily as before. 108

This study would appear to reinforce the conclusions of Hamscher, 'Social interpretation of early French Jansenism', and Campbell, 'Fleury', pp. 320-76.

CHAPTER

5

Managing the parlements: crisis and compromise, 1756-1758

On 13 December 1756 Louis XV drove through the streets of Paris, watched in silence by the citizens of the city, in order to preside at a lit de justice.1 At this ceremony, he presented two declarations and an edict, dated 10 December, all of which contained controversial material. The first declaration dealt with the vexed question of the papal Bull Unigenitus; the second concerned the internal discipline of the Parlement; while the edict abolished a number of vacant offices and two of the chambers of enquetes. Unintimidated, the vast majority of magistrates chose to resign rather than to accept these measures, something for which the government was totally unprepared. This lack of foresight further complicated an already troubled political scene, and even the terrible shock of an attempt on the life of the king failed to force a reconciliation. More damaging in the long term were the repercussions of the assassination attempt at Versailles, which saw the fall of two experienced ministers, Machault d'Arnouville and comte d'Argenson. A period of prolonged political crisis followed, and the transparent feebleness of the crown ensured that it was obliged to capitulate, recalling the magistrates, in September 1757, on terms favourable to them. It was an embarrassing defeat, and as the government sank ever deeper into the mire of the Seven Years War it established a pattern that would become worryingly familiar.

The government's decision to adopt an aggressive stance towards the Parlement of Paris was clearly connected to the failure of 1

Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 530-1. 122

Managing the parlements: crisis and compromise

123

the law of silence of September 1754 to bring an end to the religious dispute. It is, however, important to remember that in December 1756, the on-going saga of Unigenitus was far from being the chief preoccupation of either the ministry or the court at Versailles. In June 1756, the smouldering conflict between France and England in North America had finally flared into full-scale war.2 Conflict with the traditional enemy was fairly predictable, but standard military and diplomatic equations had been shattered in May 1756 with the signature of the first Treaty of Versailles, bringing together France and Austria in an ostensibly defensive alliance. This diplomatic revolution ended the Habsburg/Bourbon struggle which had continued largely unabated since the time of cardinal de Richelieu. Such an alliance offered France the tantalising prospect of peace in Europe, while she waged a naval and colonial war against England. Nor did the abandonment of the Prussian alliance seem unduly disturbing, even considering the Treaty of Westminster signed by Frederick II and the English in January 1756. Frederick had proved to be a fickle ally during the War of the Austrian Succession (1740-1748), and, despite his undoubted military genius, a poor and sparsely populated state like Prussia hardly seemed to be a genuine threat to the combined forces of Versailles and Vienna, especially in the light of the entente between Maria-Theresa and empress Elizabeth of Russia. Frederick understandably feared that he was the intended victim of this diplomatic whirl, and in August 1756, following the old adage that attack is the best form of defence, launched a preemptive strike against neighbouring Saxony. A European war was the inevitable consequence for not only was the Saxon king allied to Austria, but he was also tied directly to the House of Bourbon by the marriage of his sister to the dauphin, only son of Louis XV. It was, therefore, against the background of a world war that the French government chose to launch its attack on the Parlement in December 1756. Any analysis of the subsequent crisis must take into account international developments; it is also necessary to be conscious of the broader political context, notably 2

R. W a d d i n g t o n , Louis XV et le renversement des alliances, and his La Guerre de Sept Ans (4

vols., Paris, 1898-1908), provide a comprehensive introduction to the subject.


the power struggles taking place at Versailles. Attempting to untangle the complex web of personal, family, and factional interests that animated the French court is a hazardous business. At best, any description can offer no more than a snapshot of a particular period, and then from a very narrow angle. Nor can individuals or cabals be neatly divided into those who were either pro- or anti-parlementaire, because attitudes were invariably determined by a variety of changing factors. Rapid changes of position were common, and these political somersaults are a sign that support for, or opposition to, the Parlement was seen as a means to an end, rather than representing an object in itself. The Parlement was rarely uppermost in the minds of either ministers or courtiers. Instead, the magistrates played an important part in a wider political drama, and there was nothing inconsistent about a minister deploring the Parlement's resistance one day while secretly encouraging it the next. Despite the difficulties which confront any assessment of court cabals, it is nevertheless possible to sketch the broad configurations as they affected judicial politics. From the very beginning of the sacramental disputes, Louis XV had sought to impose a compromise solution that would guarantee the spiritual integrity of the clergy without wounding the gallican and legal sensibilities of the magistrates.3 The search for consensus was typical of the king, and it was thoroughly compatible with his traditional role as arbiter of the disputes between rival corporate bodies. It is easy to criticise Louis XV for failing to end the troubles, but not only was he obliged to tread a fine line between the zealots on both sides of the religious divide, but he also had to deal with the divisions in his own council. Judicial and ecclesiastical affairs were dealt with in the Conseil des Depeches, which, in December 1756, was composed of Louis XV; the dauphin; chancellor de Lamoignon; the secretary of state for war, comte d'Argenson; Machault d'Arnouville, who was garde des sceaux and secretary of state for the navy; controleur general Peyrenc de Moras; Puysieulx; Rouille, secretary of state for foreign affairs; Saint-Florentin, secretary of state for the maison The attitude of the king and the wider crisis itself has been analysed by: Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 652-66; Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 50-84; and Van Kley, Damiens,

PP- 99-J65-


125

du roi; Bernis; the marquis de Paulmy; the due de Bethune; and the marechal de Belle-Isle. Amongst those present, there was a strong current of sympathy for the clergy. D'Argenson was seen by most observers as the leader of the parti devot, and he could expect backing from the dauphin, the chancellor, and his nephew, Paulmy. In the opposite camp, although not necessarily enthusiastic about the Parlement's cause, were the supporters of Machault, notably Peyrenc, who had become the bete noire of the first estate after his spirited, if vain, attempt to end its fiscal privileges.4 Floating in between were Rouille, Belle-Isle, and Saint-Florentin, the great survivor of ministerial politics. Satirised by Voltaire as the debauched M. de St Pouange in Ulngenu, he had remained in office by perfecting the chameleon's art of blending innocuously into his surroundings. However, it was the feud between d'Argenson and Machault that was most significant, and the feuds around the council table were also reflected within the court as a whole.5 Support for d'Argenson, and especially the clergy, was forthcoming from the queen, Marie Leczinska, and her daughters, whose influence over Louis should not be underestimated, and from the circle of courtiers that surrounded them, including the due and duchesse de Luynes, president de Henault, and various constitutionnaire bishops, notably Beaumont. Machault, on the other hand, could count upon the support of Mme de Pompadour, whose unique position was under almost incessant siege by the devots, who sought to capitalise upon Louis XV's peculiar, but strong, religious faith in order to bring about her fall. The king was not simply dependent upon his council or immediate family for advice. Throughout his reign, he consulted trusted servants like the marechals de Noailles and de Saxe as well as the comte de Broglie, and before 1756 the prince de Conti. Baffled courtiers had long speculated about the object of the regular private meetings between the two men, and the content of the bundles of documents which the prince carried with him.6 The origin of these rendez-vous was the infamous secret du roi, or unofficial foreign policy conducted by Louis XV behind 4 5

6

Marion, Machault. These quarrels were commented upon by, among others, Henault, Memoires, pp. 199201, and Luynes, Memoires, XIV, p. 222. Luynes, Memoires, X, p. 438.

126 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV>

the backs of his ministers.7 The initial aim of the secret had been to promote the candidacy of Conti for the Polish throne, but it had gradually blossomed into a broader scheme of international politics. Not surprisingly, Conti's discussions with the king had also extended into other areas, and he had been deeply involved in the negotiations to end the parlementaire crisis of 1753-4.8 Although Conti had never fulfilled his ambition to enter the council, he remained a potential threat to both of the main ministerial factions, and to Pompadour, whose company he avoided.9 However, the confidential relationship between Conti and the king was put under severe strain by the diplomatic revolution of May 1756. Conti had been excluded from these diplomatic calculations, and the announcement of the new alliance was an unpleasant shock. With relations already shaken, Louis delivered the coup de grace by bowing to pressure from Pompadour and refusing him the command of an army at the end of the year.10 It was the cause of a lifelong breach with the king, and in December 1756 he was something of a loose cannon at the French court, dabbling in frondish negotiations with French protestants, and fanning the flames of opposition amongst the Jansenists and other malcontents in the Parlement.11 If the Austrian alliance marked a crushing defeat for the prince, it was a veritable triumph for those who had been involved in the negotiations, notably Pompadour and her protege, abbe de Bernis, who was the rising star of Versailles in the autumn of 1756.

11

These then were some of the principal political contours of Versailles immediately prior to the lit de justice of 13 December 1756. It was the garde des sceaux, Machault, in collaboration with 7

8 9 10 11

The introduction by Ozanam and Antoine to the Correspondance secrete du comte de Broglie avec Louis XV is especially helpful, as is Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 645-8. See chapter 4 above. Luynes, Memoires, X, pp. 438-9. Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 684-5. Conti's activities in this period have been examined by: E. Hughes, 'Un episode de l'histoire du protestantisme au XVIlie siecle', Societe de VHistoire du Protestantisme Francais, Bulletin Historique et Litteraire 26 (1877), 289-303; Woodbridge, 'The French

protestants' "secret"'; and Van Kley, 'The prince de Conty versus Mme de Pompadour'.


127

a number of senior judges, and with the support of Mme de Pompadour, who was responsible for the ceremony. In his memoirs, cardinal de Bernis, who was a key witness of these events, wrote that only two days before the lit de justice, Mme de Pompadour informed him of Machault's project.12 Evidently the minister was well aware that his plan was highly provocative because Bernis added that 'it was expected that the judges of the enquetes and requites would resign, but it was hoped that the grand'chambre would remain loyal and substitute for the Parlement as a whole. The loyalty of this chamber was not, however, assured.'13 Bernis was so alarmed that he persuaded the king to summon the council, and it is easy to understand his misgivings. However, because the date of the lit de justice had already been announced, it proved impossible either to cancel the ceremony or to modify its content. It was in these inauspicious circumstances that Louis XV travelled to Paris on the morning of 13 December. Machault was clearly hoping either to cow the entire Parlement into submission, or at least to maintain a solid rump of loyal magistrates who would keep justice functioning in the capital. He would then have been in a powerful position from which to deal with the government's more persistent critics. Two of the new laws presented at the lit de justice thus dealt with the internal composition and procedural regulations of the Parlement, while the third offered a further reinterpretation of Unigenitus. Of the three, the need for a declaration concerning the religious crisis is the easiest to explain. As we have seen, the law of silence issued by Louis XV in 1754 had failed to bring peace to the church. Instead, it had served more as a means of ending the Parlement's exile of 1753-4 and of gaining time for the government to pursue a lasting settlement. Louis XV had personally invested a great deal in his efforts to secure the encyclical, Ex Omnibus, from pope Benedict XIV, and the new declaration incorporated many of its recommendations.14 In addition, Unigenitus was confirmed as a law of church and state, but it was denied the status of 'rule of faith'. No specific reference was 12 13 14

Bernis, Memoires et lettres, I, p. 328. Ibid., pp. 328-9. For details of the diplomatic efforts that preceded the publication of the encylical see: Boutry, Choiseul a Rome, pp. 68-182, and Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 141—3.


made to the law of silence, although the terms of that decree were waived in order to allow the bishops to fulfil their vocation of instructing the faithful while 'remaining moderate and charitable5.15 A second important clause renewed article thirty-four of Louis XIV's declaration of 1695, which prevented the Parlement from compelling the clergy to administer the sacraments. Finally, as in 1754, an amnesty was granted to those priests who had been convicted for their contravention of the law of silence during the previous two years. The content of the religious declaration was, therefore, predictable. While negotiations had been taking place with Rome, a whole series of formal and informal committees had been working on possible solutions to the religious crisis. The foreign minister, Rouille, together with a group of conseillers d'etat, had been examining possible methods of implementing a new law intermittently since 1752.16 Meanwhile, the prince de Conti and the procureur general, Joly de Fleury, had been working on a proposed new declaration concerning Unigenitus.17 Three main points emerged from their endeavours: the law of silence was to be reaffirmed; a new amnesty was to be declared; finally, article thirty-four of the edict of 1695 was to be restated.18 Both Conti and Joly de Fleury were, therefore, willing to make concessions to the bishops, and their plan bore a strong resemblance to the actual terms of the declaration of 10 December. In the light of their sympathy for the Parlement, the claim that the law was a 'complete victory for the archbishop of Paris'19 cannot be sustained. While the absence of a reference to the salutary effects of the law of September 1754 may have been a mistake, the overall tenor of the declaration was favourable to the Parlement.20 The same could certainly not be said of the other two measures, and the Parisian magistrate, Robert de Saint-Vincent, suggested ' The content of the declaration has been discussed by: Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. xxii-xxiv; Godard, Refus de sacrements, p. 102; and Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 149-51. ' Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 118-27. See, for example, BN Collection Joly de Fleury 2103, fol. 398, Joly de Fleury to Conti, 9 January 1756. 1 Various letters and drafts of their projected new declaration are contained in the Joly de Fleury collection, ibid., fols. 348-410. ' Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. xxiv. 1 A point made by Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 177-8, who, as a leading Jansenist, was unlikely to have been easily persuaded.


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that the cause was Louis XV's usual desire to maintain a sense of balance between the magistrates and the clergy. The idea would probably have appealed to Louis, but the driving force behind the lit de justice was Machault, who, as we have seen, was anticipating a confrontation with the judges. Even the most cursory examination of the two laws is sufficient to confirm the belligerence of his intentions. Following the precedents of 1718 and 1732, the garde des sceaux sought to strengthen the authority of the first president by tightening the regulations affecting debates in the court. In the future, any denunciations of, for example, cases of refused sacraments, could only be made by the gens du roi, or by a councillor who had obtained the prior consent of the first president. There was also an effort to strengthen the more malleable grand'chambre by excluding magistrates with fewer than ten years of service from the court's plenary sessions.21 Finally, the right of remonstrance was restricted by requiring parlementaire grievances to be submitted within fifteen days of the presentation of legislation. In normal circumstances, the third law registered at the lit de justice would have appeared relatively innocuous. Two chambers of enquetes were to be suppressed, and their officers reallocated to duties in the remaining three. In addition, sixty offices, many of which were already vacant, were to be abolished and their owners reimbursed, including the charges of the presidents of the lower chambers. In the future, their duties were to be carried out by the presidents a mortier. The magistrates were troubled by the stagnant market for offices and had frequently petitioned the king for such an edict. However, when combined with the harsh tone of its predecessor, it carried the thinly veiled threat that its opponents might number amongst the sixty judges whose services were no longer required. Those responsible for drafting the two laws can have been under no illusions about the reaction they would provoke. The recent precedents of 1718 and 1732 were clear enough; on both occasions similar measures had caused judicial strikes.22 From 21

Details of the disciplinary edict are provided by: R. E. Mousnier, The institutions of France under the absolute monarchy, 1598-1789 (2 vols., Chicago, 1979-84), II, pp. 6 3 9 -

22

40; Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. xxiv; and Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 102-4, ô-" 1 * See: Flammermont, Remontrances, I, pp. ix-x; Shennan, 'The political role of the parlement of Paris under cardinal Fleury'; and Campbell, 'Fleury', pp. 306-76.

130 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754.-1774

the perspective of the first president, who undoubtedly collaborated with the ministry, the prospect of increasing his own power and that of his senior colleagues was undoubtedly tempting.23 Maupeou had faced constant pressure from the lower chambers, and specifically from the parti janseniste, on both religious and secular matters. Frequent denunciations, before often tumultuous assemblies, made the task of the king's representatives in the court extremely arduous. The procureur general expressed their problems succinctly in a letter to the prince de Conti. He wrote that 'one sees every day that the Parlement no longer thinks as it thought in the past; one word, one phrase or expression that was accepted, or tolerated, before appears to wound our zealots'.24 If the turbulence of the enquetes and requetes explains why some senior judges looked favourably upon the changes envisaged by the government, it may also shed some light upon ministerial motives. After Frederick IPs invasion of Saxony, the prospect of a long and expensive war might have tempted Machault to curb the power of the Parlement in order to reduce opposition to wartime taxation. There were definitely grounds to be concerned about this because in July and August 1756, the magistrates had mounted vigorous resistance to the imposition of a second vingtiemeP Machault still exercised an influence on financial policy so the idea should not be discounted. It is possible, therefore, that he was consciously seeking to emulate Louis XIV, who had reduced the Parlement's powers at the outbreak of the Dutch War of 1672-8.26 Any reduction of the potential for parlementaire resistance to wartime fiscal edicts would have been an attractive bonus of his policy, although the turbulence apparent in the Parlement since 1750 was undoubtedly the principal cause. Even so, the war, and the need to pay for it, was central to the political drama of December 1756. For the crown, anything less than a swift and resounding victory was fraught with danger 23

24 25

26

Maupeou's supposed collusion with Machault in preparing the lit de justice was soon the topic of popular gossip. Barbier, Chronique, VI, p. 420, and Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 177-80, were both convinced of his involvement. BN Collection Joly de Fleury 2103, fol. 348, Joly de Fleury to Conti, 3 January 1756. This incident and the financial disputes of the Seven Years War are examined in chapter 6. Mettam, Power and faction, pp. 266-8.


131

because of its need for the Parlement's cooperation in order to register loans and taxation. The Parlement's attitude towards the imposition of the second vingtieme was not the only cause of ministerial concern. During the summer of 1755, the magistrates had been engaged in a classic jurisdictional quarrel with their old rival, the Grand Conseil.27 Under pressure from the parti devot, Louis XV had sided with the Grand Conseil, issuing a declaration in October 1755 strengthening the authority of that court by freeing its officers from the need to inform the parlements before implementing its decisions. With their prestige and jurisdiction threatened, the parlementaires, led by the vociferous parti janseniste, launched into a furious attack on both the declaration and the Grand ConseiL In their defence they called upon the assistance of the provincial parlements, which were also vulnerable to any increase in the power of the Grand ConseiL In its remonstrances of 27 November 1755, the Parlement of Paris mounted a spirited defence of its prerogatives, declaring itself to be descended from the general assemblies of the nation that had met 1300 years before under the Frankish kings. No less disturbing for Louis XV was the claim that the Parlement of Paris and the provincial parlements formed in reality the diverse elements of a single body.28 Over the months that followed, this argument was gradually refined into what became known as the union des classes, which, in theory, raised the spectre of united parlementaire opposition to the crown. Although it would prove to be more frightening on paper than in practice, the idea of a union caused further anxiety for an already nervous government. Nor was the union des classes the only worrying consequence of the Grand Conseil affair for the government. When repeated remonstrances failed to persuade Louis XV to abandon that court, the Parlement invited the princes and the peers to attend a plenary session on 18 February 1756.29 The magistrates defended their unorthodox decision by claiming that the privileges of the Cour des Pairs were in peril. Louis XV saw matters in a different light, especially when the princes and the peers showed 27 28 29

Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair'. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 20-90, especially pp. 26, 73. Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 449-58.


themselves willing to attend, and forbade the assembly. However, the Parlement's tactic appeared to bear fruit because the king soon capitulated, abandoning both the declaration of October 1755 and the Grand Conseil. It was a humiliating defeat, although government policy had been poorly conceived and had been opposed by some on the royal council, notably Machault and marechal de Noailles. Thus between the Parlement's recall from exile in September 1754 and the lit de justice of December 1756, the crown had faced serious opposition from the magistrates on a wide variety of issues. Not surprisingly, therefore, Machault's measures have been described as 'a brave counter-attack by the government5 against the political pretensions of the Parlement.30 The weakness of this argument lies in the fact that it assumes the existence of a ministry with coherent political objectives. Such a description would be wholly inappropriate for the government of Louis XV. Instead, Machault sought to augment his political credit by neutralising the troublesome element in the Parlement. He had adopted precisely the opposite stance when d'Argenson and Lamoignon had sought to clip the Parlement's wings by boosting the powers of the Grand Conseil.31 In December 1756 the situation was, therefore, reversed, and, according to his brother, d'Argenson was spreading rumours in the capital 'that he was going to lose his place because he was too favourable to the Parlement'.32 It is a classic example of how the magistrates could be used by the ministerial cabals at Versailles to serve wider goals, that is to say, for d'Argenson to ruin the credit of Machault and to curry favour with public opinion in Paris. It is a feature of ancien regime politics that has frequently been ignored by those historians who have claimed to identify a reforming strand in the monarchy, whether it be in regard to the parlements, or the wider field of fiscal and administrative reform. No matter how attractive a particular programme might appear, it is not enough to argue that 'the only initiators of practical reforms could have been, and were, the enlightened ministers and their staffs'.33 Nor can their failure be attributed 30 31 32 33

S h e n n a n , The parlement of Paris, p . 3 1 0 . Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 441-4. D'Argenson, Journal, IX, p. 364. Behrens, The ancien regime, p. 177.


133

solely to the opposition of 'the corporate bodies whose rights the projected reforms menaced'. These setbacks owed as much to the intrigues of other so-called 'enlightened ministers' who deliberately undermined government policy.

in

It was against this complex political background that Machault launched his attack against the Parlement. The ritual of a lit de justice allowed little scope for organised dissent, not least because only a handful of the most senior judges had a clear idea of what to expect.34 Yet if the reaction of the magistrates was muted during the ceremony, the three declarations provoked immediate recriminations once the king and his entourage had departed from the scene. With the formalities over, the judges from the lower chambers were obliged to gather in the hotel de bailliage because the government had given the first president strict instructions to prevent the convocation of a plenary session.35 The members of the grand'chambre had been invited to their meeting, scheduled for 4 p.m., but they had declined, preferring to meet later that evening. Rather than wait for the grand'chambre to formulate an independent response, representatives of the lower chambers approached Maupeou again after only an hour. Clearly, the younger judges hoped to persuade their colleagues to take decisive action. They began by praising the virtues of unity and asked the grand'chambre to 'take joint steps with them'. When the grand}chambre refused to give a positive response, the enquetes and requites proceeded to read a lengthy arrete which culminated in their resignation. Although several members of the grand'chambre, including the doyen, councillor Ferme, inclined towards the idea of showing solidarity with their younger colleagues, it was agreed that it was neither the time nor the place to make such an important decision. Instead, they deferred their meeting until 7 a.m. the 34 35

Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 180. This account of events after the lit de justice is based upon a letter written by the first president to chancellor de Lamoignon on the evening of 13 December, AN, AP 177 mi 72, dos. 4, fol. 158, Maupeou to Lamoignon, 13 December 1756. The account of Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 181-2, is also valuable.


next morning but, as Maupeou admitted ruefully, 'without knowing what we will do there'. The enquetes and requetes were more decisive and, after yet another conference, approached the first president for the third time with a letter of resignation signed by over 120 magistrates. He politely informed them that he could not accept such a document, and consequently president Dubois was delegated to deliver the text to the chancellor. He was equally reluctant to receive the missive and, if d'Argenson is correct, the packet containing the act of resignation was eventually thrown on the chancellor's desk.36 For Maupeou, and the partisans of this coup d'autorite, it had been 'a cruel evening'. The magistrates who had resigned were almost unanimous in attributing their action to the imposition of the edict of discipline. The abbe Nigon de Berty,37 a moderate magistrate, mature in years, declared that 'this declaration destroyed the need for registration, attributed to the grand'chambre alone responsibility for civil and ecclesiastical order, and removed from each magistrate his traditional right to call plenary assemblies.'38 Confronted by this attack on its prerogatives the court had faced 'this dreadful alternative, either to yield in silence under the yoke of a law which appeared to be so contrary both to the honour of the whole body and to the service of His Majesty, or to ask him to accept their resignation.' The justification outlined by Nigon was repeated regularly by French magistrates after 1756. As arranged, the members of the grand'chambre assembled on the morning of 14 December. There was strong support for the position of the enquetes, and fifteen members of the body resigned, leaving only ten presidents a mortier and twelve councillors willing to serve the crown.39 This division in the grand'chambre contrasts sharply with the events of 9 May 1753. On that occasion its members had refused to dispense justice after the disgrace of the lower chambers. Moreover, in 1753 the first president seems to have allowed, perhaps even encouraged, his colleagues to disobey 36 37 38

39

D'Argenson, Journal, IX, p. 363. The career of Nigon has been examined by Lacombe, Nigon de Berty. BPR Collection Le Paige 532. These comments form part of a memorandum sent by Nigon to the Parisian parlementaire Saint-Hilaire in May 1757. D'Argenson, Journal, IX, p. 363.


135

40

the government. The fact that he did the opposite in December 1756 strengthens the theory that he had helped to prepare for the lit de justice.

In an effort to reestablish order, the king called a meeting of his council on 15 December.41 The government was faced with a choice, either to stand firm and attempt to force the magistrates to resume their duties, or to negotiate. If the ministry seriously intended to enforce the declarations of 10 December it had to find substitutes for the magistrates who had resigned. Machault had expected the grand'chambre to fill the vacuum, but the defection of many of these senior judges undermined his policy from the outset. Moreover, the procureurs and avocats refused to plead their cases before the rump Parlement and chose instead to await the resolution of the crisis. During the long exile of 1753-4 the government had attempted to establish a replacement for the Parlement, the Chambre Royale, composed of conseillers d'etat and maitres des requites, but it had failed to win the confidence of the public.42 While the possibility remained that the resigning magistrates would return, neither lawyers nor litigants would patronise the new institution. Understandably, nobody wished to attract the displeasure of these powerful men who might well have taken their revenge on the clients of the Chambre Royale. This unhappy precedent reduced the government's scope for action, and it emphasised the importance of public support for the parlementaires.

Clearly, the ministry had to do something and, on 16 December, the rump Parlement was summoned to Versailles. Contemporaries noted that at that meeting, Louis XV was unusually anxious to demonstrate his gratitude to the magistrates for their loyalty.43 He also expressed his willingness to receive remonstrances on the declarations of 10 December. On the following day, the magistrates decided that they were unable to write an official protest without the consent of their absent colleagues. Instead, they opted to send the first president to implore the king to annul the resignations and to order the reunion of the 40 41 42 43

Rogister, 'Conflict and harmony', p. 140. Barbier, Ckronique, VI, p. 413. Egret, Uopposition parlementaire, pp. 62-3. Barbier, Chronique, VI, p. 413 and d'Argenson, Journal, IX, pp. 365-8.


Parlement. Their plea was to no avail. Louis XV declared that the offices of those who had resigned were vacant, which effectively ruled out the possibility of a swift end to the crisis. In a last desperate effort to convince the king, the rump Parlement sent a deputation to 'beg mercy from the king, and to throw themselves at his knees' in order to persuade him to recall their colleagues.44 An audience was granted for 29 December, but there were no reports of these elderly judges throwing themselves at the feet of their sovereign. Although Louis heard their appeal graciously enough, their request was unsuccessful and he ended the meeting with a call for obedience.45 Completely lost for an alternative strategy, the grand'chambre could think of nothing better to do than prepare a further appeal. By the end of 1756, the crown and the Parlement were, therefore, locked in stalemate. These difficulties provoked mixed reactions from contemporary observers. One former minister, marquis d'Argenson, blamed the crisis on 'the stupidity of the court, and the malice of courtiers, under a king whose vocation was beneficence'.46 The Parisian lawyer and diarist, Barbier, on the other hand, noted that 'one does not know yet how all of this will finish. It is true to say that this end of year 1756 is more stormy than its predecessors because of the union that has been allowed to form amongst the parlements since the Grand Conseil affair.'47 An already troubled political scene was shaken still further when on the evening of 5 January 1757 Robert Frangois Damiens stepped out of the night and struck Louis XV a single blow with his knife.48 Protected by his heavy winter clothing the king was only superficially wounded, but this attempted assassination caused confusion at Versailles and horrified the kingdom.49 The magistrates were informed of the attack later that eveAN U 1106, fols. 307-8. D'Argenson, Journal, IX, pp. 372-4. Ibid., p. 377. Barbier, Chronique, VI, p. 422. Van Kley, Damiens, is the most thorough modern study of the attempted assassination, but P. Retat, L'attentat de Damiens: discours sur Vevenement au XVIIIe

siecle (Lyon, 1979)

should also be consulted. For an indication of the outrage felt by contemporaries upon hearing the news of the attack, see: d'Argenson, Journal, IX, pp. 380-3; Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 425-8; and Luynes, Memoires, XVI, pp. 281-2.


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50

ning. Without waiting for instructions from Versailles, the whole Parlement, including those who had resigned in December, assembled in the Palais de Justice, where they spent an anxious night. It was agreed to send a letter to the dauphin, only son of Louis XV, by way of the chancellor, in which the judges offered to resume their normal duties. In preparing their note the magistrates were far from united. Several members of the company favoured an unconditional return to service,51 the others were divided about the appropriate course to take. Bernis wrote that a 'decent and respectable letter was shown to me, but an ambitious magistrate, in concert with the intrigues of a minister, made them change this first letter, which was replaced by a second much less respectable than the first'.52 It is difficult to verify his account, but Louis-Adrien Le Paige, who was well informed about events, claimed that: 'this [second] letter was composed by M. Clement de Feillet and M. de Vaudeuil, and taken to M. du Bois who signed it. There have been a lot of recriminations since about some of the words that it contained'.53 The two authors were thoroughly predictable. Throughout January 1757, it was the Jansenists and their supporters who sought to strengthen the resolve of the court in its quarrel with the government. The dauphin cordially received this letter, and subsequently a second one, but refused to give permission to assemble the Parlement on his own initiative. Events nevertheless progressed quickly, and, on 8 January, the chancellor sent letters patent instructing the grand'chambre to proceed with the case against Damiens, thus removing any opportunity for the lower chambers to participate in the drama of his trial. By issuing the letters patent the government had also spurned any chance of capitalising upon the genuine distress of the parlementaires. A more subtle approach might have convinced the moderates of the need to swallow their pride and demonstrate loyalty to the king in a moment of national crisis. Bernis, ever the advocate of compromise, claimed that when the king's council discussed the 50 51

52 53

Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 190, first heard the news at 10 p.m. Two members of the grand'chambre, Blair and Barally, wrote to the chancellor on their own initiative and were allowed to resume their ordinary duties. Bernis, Memoires et lettres, I , p . 332. BPR Collection Le Paige 547, fol. 85.


second letter he had called for a conciliatory response, but that his advice was ignored.54 The ministry, without devoting any fresh thought to the problem of providing a functioning judicial system, had thrown away a strong position from which to negotiate. Bernis claimed that this decision was responsible for 'the anarchy which reigned in public affairs from this moment until the month of September 1757', and it is difficult to disagree with his assessment.55 With a little more skill, the government could probably have driven a wedge between the majority of magistrates and the zealous, primarily Jansenist, minority. It is likely that most would have accepted a return to their ordinary service in exchange for the right to judge Damiens, and there were certainly some waverers who wanted to follow the example of the two councillors who had resumed service unconditionally.56 Le Paige noted that: there was, in effect, a movement amongst the enquetes and requites to write letters. But the bad effect of the king's response has sustained the waverers . . . . M. l'abbe Richard and some others had pressed M. Clement de Feillet on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday to write, and said that following his example all the others would do so. He responded that, for him, it was a reason not to.57 In his diary, Barbier recorded similar divisions, and claimed that abbe Chauvelin, Gauthier de Besigny, and Rolland de Challerange, all of whom were associated with the parti janseniste, were publicly attacking those who wanted to resume their duties. These quarrels offer a further indication that the crown missed an opportunity to exploit the distress, perhaps even sentiments of guilt, within the Parlement. The behaviour of the parti janseniste, on the other hand, was thoroughly consistent with its actions since September 1754, and, in part, explains why the government resorted to further draconian measures at the end of the month. Louis XV revealed his determination to uphold his authority on 27 January, when sixteen leading magistrates from among 54

55 56

57

Bernis, Memoires et lettres, I, p. 332. It was only with difficulty that Bernis prevented the council from appointing a royal commission to hear the case against Damiens, a measure that would have infuriated the magistrates. Ibid., pp. 360-1. Ibid., p. 332. See the comments of Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 192-4, and Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 443-8. BPR Collection Le Paige 547, fol. 85.


139 58

those who had resigned in December 1756 were exiled. Historians have generally condemned the policy. Flammermont argued that it destroyed the basis of a political settlement negotiated by Mme de Pompadour and the president de Meinieres.59 While, in a recent study, Van Kley has followed the contemporary account of the advocate Barbier, and has concluded that the policy was 'incomprehensible'.60 It is certainly true that if the government expected to see the magistrates cowed into submission by a show of force, it was sadly mistaken. Nevertheless, there were a number of good reasons why the ministry opted for this strategy, and its action requires careful examination. By removing known opposition leaders, such as abbe Chauvelin and Clement de Feillet, the government presumably expected to find the task of coercing the other judges back to their posts much easier. However, an analysis of the sixteen men in the light of their known behaviour since the recall of the Parlement in September 1754 produces some unusual results. The disgraced men were: Chauvelin; Chavannes; Clement de Feillet; Delpech de Mereville; Douet de Vichy; Drouyn de Vaudeuil; Dubois; Gars de Fremainville; Heron; Lattaignant de Bainville; Lambert; Lambert de Saint-Omer; Nouet; Robert de Saint-Vincent; Saget; and Tubeuf. Three judges, Delpech de Mereville, Heron, and Nouet, figure very rarely, if at all, in the debates of the Parlement, and a satisfactory explanation of their punishment remains elusive. Of the others, the cases of the president Dubois and the counsellor Tubeuf are also initially surprising. There is, however, some evidence that the latter had been one of the staunchest opponents of an unconditional return to ordinary judicial service after the attempt on the king's life.61 Dubois, on the other hand, owed his disgrace to his status as the senior president of the lower chambers. It was he who acted as their spokesman by delivering the initial act of resignation to the chancellor; it was also at his Parisian residence that the lower chambers assembled in the days after 13 December 1756.62 There was nothing very surprising about the other names on 58 59 60 61 62

Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, p . 8 3 . Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. xxx. Van Kley, Damiens, p. 152. Barbier, Chronique, VI, pp. 443, 446. Ibid., pp. 447-8, 457-8, and Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 195-6.

140 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-17*74

the list. During the long exile of 1753-4, seven of their number had been sent to Bourges,63 and there formed part of a group notorious for its opposition to the government.64 An eighth magistrate, the abbe Chauvelin, was one of only four to be confined in a royal prison. As we have seen, he had played a key role in sustaining parlementaire resistance after the attempt on the king's life and thereafter had been busily collecting material with the aim of incriminating the Jesuits. 65 Moreover, during the previous two years these judges had all figured, at one time or another, amongst the leaders of resistance to government policies. The two exceptions, Lambert de Saint-Omer and Gars de Fremainville, were probably included on account of their uncompromising religious beliefs. Interestingly, the crown did not take a consistent line towards the parti janseniste. Van Kley has claimed that it was surprising that individuals such as Saint-Hilaire or Rolland de Challerange were not exiled along with other members of the group.66 Others could be added to this list, for example Revol, Durey de Meinieres, and Murard. Yet as our examination of the debates in the Parlement between 1754 and 1756 has shown, the parti janseniste was not particularly regimented. Instead, the most persistent and intransigent critics of government policy were the abbe Chauvelin and his 'consorts', Lambert and Clement de Feillet. Only on matters directly connected to the religious quarrels were they likely to receive the whole-hearted support of the other Jansenists in the court. Not unnaturally, the members of the parti janseniste often had conflicting aims or objectives, and we cannot discount the possibility that the government was attempting to exploit those divisions. While in exile, Robert de Saint-Vincent found himself at odds with his friends about the proposed reimbursement of their offices, writing to Lefebvre de Saint-Hilaire that: I would have had trouble to divine that the argument which you prefer to all the others is that adopted so persistently by the friend of Meulan [Chauvelin]. I do not believe that it is possible to be more attached 63

64

65 66

Lambert Drouyn de Vaudeuil, Robert de Saint-Vincent, Lattaignant de Bainville, Douet de Vichy, Chavannes, and Saget. An interesting insight into the role played by the so-called cabinet noir at Bourges is provided by Grellet-Dumazeau, Les exiles de Bourges. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 195-6. Van Kley, Damiens, p. 152.


141

to him than I am . . . but I declare that I have never pretended that I should take him invariably for my model, and I have difficulty believing that in the situation we are in he must be imitated because he is the only one to have taken this stance.67 Clearly, it would be unreasonable to expect to see unanimity on every subject. But by their activities since September 1754 the trio of Chauvelin, Clement, and Lambert had certainly distinguished themselves from their friends and allies, perhaps because of their close affiliation with the prince de Conti. Yet whatever the personal merits of those disgraced, it is clear that the government reaped few benefits from its coup. The other judges were not intimidated, and the fate of the exiles complicated the affair further. Now the king had not only to enforce the disputed declarations of 10 December but also to reconcile the other magistrates to the loss of their colleagues because the ministry soon made it clear that its intention was to exclude the sixteen from any possible settlement by ordering the liquidation of their offices. IV

These firm measures belied the state of utter chaos into which the government had fallen after Damiens' attack.68 In the initial aftermath, the fate of Mme de Pompadour provided the main source of speculation. In 1744, when the king had fallen gravely ill at Metz, the then favourite, Mme de Chateauroux, had been driven temporarily from the court. Although in 1757 it was quickly apparent that the king had not sustained a mortal wound, he was, nevertheless, stricken by a bout of melancholy which prevented him from visiting or even inquiring after Pompadour. The due de Luynes, usually a reliable witness, wrote that when told that his wound was not serious, Louis replied 'it is, more than you think, because it goes to the heart'. 69 After several troubled days, he eventually rallied and returned to the familiar comforts of life with his favourite. Fate was less kind to the two 67 68

69

BPR Collection Le Paige 532, Robert de Saint-Vincent to Saint-Hilaire, 19 May 1757. The struggle between the various factions at court was documented by a number of contemporaries, see: Bernis, Memoires et lettres, I, pp. 350-73; Choiseul, Memoires, pp. 119-36; and Luynes, Memoires, XVI, pp. 281-2. Luynes, Memoires, XVI, p. 282.

142 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis

principal ministers, Machault and d'Argenson. On the morning of 1 February, both men were relieved of their posts and exiled to their family estates. Viewed with the benefit of hindsight, the dismissal of two senior ministers at the beginning of a major war was a grave error. Yet it has been claimed that Louis used the Damiens affair as an excuse to dismiss the two men whom many believed were responsible for the mishandling of government policy over the previous seven years.70 He was certainly capable of such dramatic action, as he later proved by dismissing the dues de Choiseul and Praslin, but matters were, in reality, more complicated. Following the attempted assassination and during the king's convalescence, Pompadour was obliged to await events in her chambers. Had the wound proved to be more serious, or had Louis XV sought solace in a bout of piety, then the mistress would have been obliged to quit the court. Not surprisingly, in her distress, she looked to her immediate circle for support and advice. Bernis, prince de Soubise, and the marechale de Mirepoix were all to the fore in preventing her from withdrawing from Versailles voluntarily, which would have guaranteed her downfall.71 Machault, on the other hand, publicly distanced himself from the favourite, and he may even have encouraged her to retire, before the king ended speculation by visiting his mistress. Thereafter the garde des sceaux was badly compromised, especially in the light of his involvement with the lit de justice of 13 December, which many blamed for inciting Damiens to strike.72 His fall was, therefore, predictable, although Louis XV's trust and affection for a valued servant, revealed in the letter relieving him of his functions, suggests that he was dismissed with regret.73 By contrast, d'Argenson had superficially less to fear, having carefully steered clear of responsibility for the crisis in the Parlement and having been accustomed to a state of permanent conflict with Pompadour. There were some who claimed that he anticipated being first minister once the fall of his chief rival 70

71

See: Gaxotte, Le siecle de Louis XV, pp. 309-12; Carre, Le regne de Louis XV, pp. 2456; and Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 722-4. See the comments of Mme du Hausset, Memoires, pp. 138-41, and J. N. Dufort de Cheverney, Memoires sur les regnes de Louis XV et Louis XVI et sur la revolution , ed. R.

72 73

de Crevecoeur (2 vols., Paris, 1886), pp. 183-8. Van Kley, Damiens, p. 153. Antoine, Louis XV, p. 722.


143

was assured, yet he too was disgraced. Once again, there are a variety of possible explanations. It is conceivable that Louis XV really did intend to wipe the slate clean after the shock of the attempt on his life. However, given his character, it is far more likely that he had caved into pressure from Pompadour. Her position would have been badly exposed once her former ally, Machault, had gone, and she clearly did everything in her power to ensure that her principal enemy fell with him.74 Whatever the precise cause may have been, the result was the same: the disgrace of the two men left the government in a shambles. Contemporaries were scathing in their criticisms of the ministry in the months that followed.75 Admittedly, there was a sense of continuity in that the marquis de Paulmy replaced his uncle as minister of war, but even loyal clients of the family, like the marquis de Valfons, thought he was incapable of the job.76 Having held the survivance on the office since 1751, Paulmy's period of tenure was remarkable only for the fact that he was one of the last examples of a practice which, for all its faults, had given a certain stability to French government. Machault's replacement at the navy was the controleur general, Peyrenc de Moras, whose earlier elevation was the result of the illness of his father-in-law, Moreau de Sechelles. Unfortunately for France, the joint tenureship of the posts of controleur general and of secretary of state for the navy was the only distinction Peyrenc shared with Colbert. When Machault relinquished the seals, they passed neither to the chancellor nor to another minister, but were instead retained by the king, who for the next three years fulfilled the duties of the charge himself. With no minister of genuine experience or authority, Louis was obliged to assume personal responsibility for decision making, which, it was claimed, he did without seeking advice.77 The real power behind the throne, 74

75

76

77

As d'Argenson's supporters were well aware. See: Henault, Memoires, pp. 244-5, an PP- 408-50. Ibid., I, pp. 169-75. Most of this group was sympathetic to the ideas of the physiocrats, AN 144 AP n 6, fol. 3, and Le Verdier, Miromesnil, III, pp. 409-16, L'Averdy to Miromesnil, December 1764. See chapters 6 and 8 above. For a discussion of financial policy under Louis XV, see: Marion, Histoirefinanciere,I; J. F. Bosher, French finances iyyo-iyg^: and Riley, Seven Years War.

from business to bureaucracy (Cambridge, 1970);

In the eye of the storm

287

collection of the vingtiemes ensured the recurrence of financial crisis, and it provided the Parlement with frequent opportunities to criticise the government. It was not a coincidence that the years 1756, 1759, 1761, 1763 and 1770, in which these taxes were renewed, all saw serious clashes between the crown and the sovereign courts. A general trend was evident on every occasion. Royal edicts which renewed the vingtiemes were sent to the Parlement for registration, where they produced remonstrances from the magistrates. The crown then had a choice either to grant concessions to the parlementaires, by agreeing, for example, to reduce the length of time for which the taxes were levied, a tactic employed in 1760 and 1767, or, alternatively to hold a lit de justice, as occurred in 1756, 1761, 1763 and 1769. However, from the mid-1750s onwards the judges had become increasingly vocal in their criticisms of these ceremonies, and in both 1759 and 1763 laws registered at a lit de justice had been withdrawn after sustained protests. Thus, between 1763 and 1771, the government held a lit de justice to impose new fiscal edicts only once, in January 1769. Admittedly, this period of relative calm was disturbed in December 1769 with the appointment of the Parisian magistrate, abbe Joseph Marie Terray, to the post of controleur general. Historians have acknowledged that the lamentable state of French finances left Terray with little alternative but to implement a partial bankruptcy in February 1770.10 It has been claimed that the threat of resistance to his measures inspired the controleur general to play an active part in the reforms of 1771,11 but the argument is not convincing. The remonstrances made by the court about government fiscal policies between 1767 and 1771 were couched in familiar language, and included criticisms of taxation, new loans, and attempts to raise revenue through the creation of offices.12 Moreover, the magistrates could offer only their traditional plea for economy as the solution to the financial crisis.13 Terray was more aware of this than most because he 10

11

12 13

Marion, Histoire Jinanciere, I, pp. 258-9 and J. F. Bosher, T h e French crisis of 1770', History 57 (1972), 17-30E. N. White, 'Y avait-il une solution au dilemme financier de l'ancien regime?', Comite pour VHistoire Economique et Financiere. Extrait d'etudes et documents 4 (1992), 65. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 686-709, 809-13, 938-40, and III, pp. 39-40, 51-6. Ibid., II, pp. 691-2, 702-6, 708-9, and III, pp. 46-8, 52-4.


had occasionally drafted the Parlement's criticisms of government financial policy before his appointment to the controle generate.1* Nor were there any signs of innovation in parlementaire attitudes towards the use of a lit de justice. The ceremony was employed only once, in January 1769, and the response of the magistrates was muted in comparison to the events of 1756 or 1763. The Parlement of Paris was not, therefore, becoming more outspoken in its criticisms of royal fiscal policy in the years immediately before 1771; if anything its opposition had peaked. Indeed, several contemporary observers and some magistrates wrote, not unreasonably, about the timidity of the magistrates when faced by Terray's partial bankruptcy in February 1770.15 Their reticence reflected the widespread public perception that drastic measures were necessary,16 and the skill of Terray himself who worked closely with his former colleagues in order to sweeten the bitter financial pill.17 His attitude mirrored that of his predecessor, L'Averdy, who until his fall in September 1768 was determined to minimise conflict with the Parlement of Paris.18 L'Averdy had been appointed to his post because of the violent protests which had defeated the policy of Bertin in 1763, and he was anxious to avoid a similar fate. Wherever possible he sought to negotiate, as was demonstrated by his efforts to prolong the second vingtieme in May 1767.19 In an opening bid, he proposed continuing the levy for four and a half years in the hope of persuading the Parlement to accept three years. The magistrates were more parsimonious, offering only two years, and rather than enter a dangerous cycle of conflict L'Averdy demurred. His actions were accompanied by the distribution of more tangible rewards, and it has been suggested that the Parlement's moderate behaviour was the result of Choiseul's policy of paying off judicial oppo14

15

16

17 18 19

BS Ms 805, fol. 59. He wrote, for example, the remonstrances of December 1768 criticising the prolongation of the second vingtieme. In his journal S. P. Hardy, 'Mes loisirs', BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 120, noted the dissatisfaction of a number of judges during March 1770. Glandre de Brunville recorded similar complaints in his records of the Parlement's debates, BS Ms 806, fols. 95-7. A point made by the dramatist Charles Colle, Journal et memoires, III, p. 449, and echoed by, among others, Voltaire. AN 144 AP 102, dos. 1, fol. 4, Terray to d'Ormesson, 26 February 1770. Le Verdier, Miromesnil, IV, pp. 249-54, L'Averdy to Miromesnil, 29 May 1767. These details are revealed in the correspondence between L'Averdy and Miromesnil, Le Verdier, Miromesnil, IV, pp. 251-3, 260.


289

20

sition. Large sums undoubtedly changed hands, and some senior judges were genuinely concerned about the venality of their colleagues.21 Money was not the only incentive, and office and patronage were also used to silence the talented or unruly. Finally, it is possible, if unlikely, that some judges were intimidated by the hard line taken against the Parlements of Pau and Rennes, and thus acted more responsibly as a result. There were, however, some magistrates who were anxious to pursue a more forceful policy, and the Parlement's debates do provide a record of their views. One of the most striking examples occurred in July 1768, when the king issued an edict creating twenty 'officers and payers of rentes9.22 At a plenary session of the Parlement, held on 15 July, the magistrates voted to prepare remonstrances. Yet in the course of that debate, a minority supported the remarkable proposal to invite the princes and the peers to discuss: the immense charges under which the state is close to succumbing the cause of this fateful necessity, always budding, which accumulates without cease, without limits. The state of the finances since the time of the declaration of November 1763, and to advise on the means of establishing a better order there, and of procuring some relief for the people.23

If the Parlement had accepted this proposal, it would have made the most daring step on a financial matter since 1648. Previously, when the judges had attempted to summon the peers, they had cited a threat to the privileges of the Com des Pairs or an imagined assault on the fundamental laws of the monarchy. The magistrates who supported the motion of 5 July 1768 offered no such excuse, and their proposal effectively accused the king and his ministers of being unable to solve their financial problems. Although the matter was not taken further, it demonstrates that a minority was still advocating ideas which pushed the authority of the court to its limits. Thus, when examining the activities of the Parisian magistrates 20

21

22 23

Foiset, Le president de Brosses, pp. 253-4, anc * Hardman, 'Ministerial politics in France', pp. 78-85. Louis XVI's garde des sceaux, Miromesnil, was especially critical of this practice, BN Ms Fr 10986, fol. 24. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 937-41 and BS Ms 804, fol. 181. BS Ms 804, fol. 181.


prior to the reforms of Maupeou, it is necessary to be wary of claims that the court had entered a radical or militant new phase. Seen within the context of the previous twenty years, there was a great deal of consistency in the position adopted by the judges on fiscal matters. The vast majority continued to oppose the levy of direct taxation, and in particular the vingtiemes, as well as the other fiscal expedients employed by the crown. Yet they did so through the traditional medium of remonstrances which offered little beyond a call for economy. Those magistrates who expressed more radical opinions remained a small minority before 1771. 11

The renewed quarrel between the Parlement of Paris and the Grand Conseil during the spring of 1768 provides a second example of the existence of an active minority pressing their more conservative colleagues to attack the government. Once again a jurisdictional conflict was expanded into a wide-ranging debate about the fundamental laws of the kingdom. Yet for all the fury generated by this dispute, there was no sign of a change relative to the earlier crisis of 1755-6.24 The procureur general was obliged to dust off his notes from that affair, and the actions, speeches, and remonstrances of the Parlement suggest that many of his colleagues did the same.25 After its defeat in 1756, the Grand Conseil lost much of its prestige and entered a period of decline. Several provincial parlements actually prevented the enforcement of its judgements and, after failing to secure the support of the king, the court resigned in April 1765. The king appointed a committee of conseillers d'etat to advise on the means to resolve the problem, but little progress was made, and it was not until 4 January 1768 that the king issued an edict reestablishing the Grand Conseil. The edict contained a number of stipulations concerning the organisation and composition of the court. Henceforth justice would be freely dispensed by the Grand Conseil and its decisions were to be enforceable throughout the kingdom, although crucially there was 24 25

S w a n n , 'Grand Conseil affair'. BN Collection Joly de Fleury 1064, fol. 1-324.


291

no specific reference to the need to inform the Parlement before its publication. Both of these measures were a potential threat to the jurisdiction and prestige of the Parlement. It has been argued that the intention behind this policy was to weaken the position of the Parlement.26 There is no obvious alternative explanation, but as with the earlier policy of 1755-6 it was flawed from the outset by the absence of an adequate defence against the inevitable attacks of the Parlement. The edict reestablishing the Grand Conseil was denounced by the Jansenist councillor, Gars de Fremainville, at an assembly of the Parlement on 12 January. In a powerful speech, he claimed that 'the decision was taken to strike down the parlements5 and spoke of 'the attacks made on the law, the magistrature and the safety, liberty and honour of every citizen'.27 He was also careful to remind his colleagues of the remarkable difference between the treatment accorded to the judges of the Grand Conseil and those of the Parlements of Pau and Rennes, all of whom had resigned in 1765. Gars added a thorough critique of the legal implications of the edict, arguing that in its new form the rival court would be 'a commission menacing all the tribunals, courts, individuals, even the most eminent in the state, the princes and the peers like the ordinary citizen. [A commission] Which attacks and compromises the interests of the subject, the order of jurisdictions, the rights of the peerage, and the immutable constitution of the state.' Other potentially dangerous consequences of the edict were added to what was already an impressive list, including a supposed threat to the cherished right of appel comme d'abus, and the court agreed to appoint a committee to investigate these allegations. The commissioners presented their conclusions on 15 January and, after a second debate, the Parlement voted to make remonstrances. When the protest was presented to the king on 20 January, it contained many of the criticisms made in the speech of Gars de Fremainville.28 The magistrates denounced the reformed Grand Conseil as a commission in disguise, perhaps an allusion to its first president, Le Peletier de Beaupre, who had headed the 26

27 28

Glasson, Le parlement de Paris, II, pp. 335-42, and Rocquain, L'esprit revolutionnaire, pp. 266-7. AN XiA 8541, fols. 147-51 and BS Ms 804, fol. 65. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 853-88.


commission of Saint-Malo, and they provided a host of examples in an attempt to prove that the entire judicial order was in peril. Louis made no immediate reply, but previous experience suggested that the Parlement would not remain silent for long. On 4 May, Gars returned to the fray and denounced an arret of the Grand Conseil which contradicted an earlier decision of the Parlement by hearing a case subject to an appel comme d'abus.29 Once the Grand Conseil had been reestablished, it was almost certain that the desire to reassert its authority would lead to a jurisdictional clash with the Parlement. These disputes were an everyday occurrence amongst the institutions of the ancien regime, and they were not in themselves remarkable. However, during the 1750s and 1760s, such comparatively minor issues had often served as the pretext for wider arguments about the 'constitution' of the kingdom, and the reestablishment of the Grand Conseil proved to be no exception. After consulting the gens du roi on the legality of the arret denounced by Gars, the magistrates held a plenary session on 7 May. The minority favoured an arrete proposed by the fiery Drouyn de Vaudeuil. He based his argument on the premise that a court could only be established by virtue of letters patent registered in the Parlement. The edict of January 1768 failed to meet this qualification, and he thus described the Grand Conseil as 'an illegal assembly composed of individuals risen against the law which repudiates them'.30 As a consequence, he demanded that the Parlement forbid the public to attend the judicial sessions of the Grand Conseil and declare all proceedings of that court to be null and void. If the arrete proposed by Drouyn had been accepted, it would have negated the royal edict of 4 January. Concern at the likely reaction of the king persuaded the majority to endorse the opinion of Gars de Fremainville, which was to summon the individual responsible for publishing the arret of the Grand Conseil.

In an attempt to prevent the battle of arrets between the two rival courts from developing any further, Louis XV summoned a grande deputation of the Parlement to Versailles on 19 May.31 29 30 31

AN XiA 8541, fols. 174-7, a n d BS Ms 804, fol. 40. BS Ms 804, fols. 49-51. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 888-90.


293

At that meeting, he reprimanded the magistrates for their conduct and denied that the powers of the Grand Conseil had been increased. He also attempted to reassure the judges that their right of appel comme d'abus was not threatened, but he concluded by prohibiting the court from pursuing the matter further. When the judges convened a plenary session the next day, they ignored his request and proceeded to debate the king's response.32 Although there was a general desire to press their case, it proved difficult to reach agreement on how this could be best achieved. The senior magistrates of the grand'chambre, headed by the councillor, Pasquier, favoured the comparatively mild policy of making remonstrances. At the other extreme, a number of junior members of the enquetes wanted to prepare remonstrances, 'the chambers remaining assembled', which effectively meant a judicial strike. A majority was, however, eventually formed after lively speeches by Drouyn de Vaudeuil and Michau de Montblin, who suggested inviting the princes and the peers to discuss the matter. Michau claimed that the edict of 4 January undermined 'this maxim constitutive of the monarchy which does not allow any act to be considered as a law of the kingdom if it is not clothed by the solemnity of registration'. Drouyn was equally forthright and spoke of the need to stop 'the progress of a system destroying the constitution of the state'. Although the two magistrates succeeded in persuading their colleagues to convoke the peers, the final arrete was moderately phrased and simply invited the peers to attend the court on 14 June. 33 It was a decision consistent with the actions of the Parlement since 1750. In the course of their quarrels with the crown, the Parisian judges had learnt that their ties to the peerage were a powerful weapon with which to intimidate the government. Although such links with the peers were not new, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the language of, among others, Gars de Fremainville, Michau de Montblin and Drouyn de Vaudeuil contained constitutional arguments that went beyond the more traditional concerns of jurisdictional and legal precedent. When reading their speeches, it is possible to hear the echo of abbe Chauvelin and recall the halcyon days of the parti janseniste of a BS Ms 804, fols. 124-6. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. 890.


decade before. Gars was undoubtedly a Jansenist, and he was variously described as the new abbe Pucelle, or even a modern Cato.34 Drouyn, always on the fringes of the parti janseniste35 was a more enigmatic figure who had played a prominent part in the earlier campaign against the Grand Conseil of 1755-6.36 Michau, on the other hand, was a newcomer to the court and had no obvious religious affinity with the Jansenists, even though his speeches sound as if they were written by Le Paige. He was a fine example of how the ideas developed by the parti janseniste had become part of the common currency of parlementaire debate. We should also note that by the late 1760s attempting to assemble the peers had become a regular feature of disputes between the Parlement and the government, and Flammermont undoubtedly exaggerated when he described the invitation of May 1768 as 'a veritable revolt'.37 In 1756, such an invitation had been considered a daring gesture; by 1768 it was almost routine. Thus, through repeated use, initially radical ideas could, and did, become part of the accepted political vocabulary of the Parlement. Rather than allow the meeting, Louis XV summoned the Parlement to Versailles on 14 June. He informed the magistrates that the invitation to the peers was 'as extraordinary as it is irregular5, adding that 'what I can tolerate even less is that you have taken a decision so contrary to the respect you owe me'.38 As a consequence, the king quashed the arrete of 20 May. However, in what appeared to be a sign of conciliation, he announced that he intended to end the confusion which had arisen concerning the Grand Conseil. The imminent change in royal policy seems to have calmed the magistrates. At an assembly held the next day, there were calls for a second invitation to be issued to the peers, but the majority preferred to defer a final decision until the 21 st.39 During this brief interval, the government decided to avoid prolonging a potentially damaging conflict by making concessions 34

35

36 37 38 39

Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 95, and Hardy, 'Mes loisirs', BN Ms Fr 6680, I, fol. 211. A long-time friend of Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 403, the two had quarrelled about the government's treatment of the Parlement of Pau. Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', p. 453. Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. 890. Ibid., p. 891. BS Ms 804, fols. 139-40.


295

to the parlementaires. On 20 June, the first president was summoned to Versailles. Louis informed him that a new declaration had been sent to the Grand Conseil clarifying the edict of 4 January. 40 Maupeou reported the king's decision at the assembly of 21 June. 41 One of the presidents a mortier suggested postponing any action until the 27th in order to allow time for the new declaration to be published. His avis was supported by a fellow member of the grand'chambre, Pasquier, who added the proviso that the peers be invited to attend the assembly, and his proposal was adopted by a large majority. That Pasquier should have suggested convening the peers seems a little surprising. For many years he had been closely associated with the ministry as rapporteur, and he had been a leading supporter of the government. It is, therefore, nearly certain that the ministry had signalled its willingness to allow such an assembly in order to defuse the crisis. The fact that Louis XV made no attempt to thwart the second invitation strengthens this interpretation. His action provides a useful illustration of how the crown, like the Parlement, could harness the prestige of the peerage in order to end a dispute. The death of the queen, after a prolonged illness, delayed the meeting until 4 July, when the Parlement assembled with the peers in attendance.42 The debate was dominated by a masterful performance from the young counsellor Michau de Montblin. In the course of a lengthy speech, he attacked not only the reformed Grand Conseil, but also the policies pursued by the government in Pau, Brittany, and elsewhere. His criticisms were based upon the premise that the Grand Conseil was a form of permanent commission which would threaten 'the life and safety of every citizen'. To sustain his argument, Michau presented a number of examples designed to demonstrate that, under the terms of the edict of 4 January and the recent declaration of 19 June, the rival court had gained powers which challenged both the jurisdiction of the Parlement and the privileges of the peers. His speech concluded with a demand for nothing less than the suppression of the Grand Conseil. 40 41 42

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. 891. BS Ms 804, fol. 152. Ibid., fols. 166-74.

296 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1J54-1JJ4

Despite his eloquence, Michau failed to win a majority for his resolution and, after a heated dispute about the exact number of votes cast, the majority - including all of the princes and peers - adopted a protest drafted by the senior president d'Aligre. Presented to Louis XV three days later, it contained a summary of the ideas advanced by the Parlement since the beginning of the affair.43 The Grand Conseil was accused of posing a serious threat to the rights of the king's subjects and especially to the privileges of the peers. In response to these grievances, Louis XV defended his policy and repeated that he had merely reestablished the Grand Conseil in the form prescribed by the original ordinance of Charles VIII. The Parlement assembled, with the peers in attendance, on 8 July, to hear a report of the king's reply.44 As in the earlier debate, opinions were divided. The minority, led by Michau de Montblin and the president d'Hocquart, insisted that the threat posed by the Grand Conseil could only be removed by its abolition, and he urged the assembly to make fresh remonstrances to that end. However, an alliance of the princes, peers, and the senior judges of the grand'chambre formed the basis of a majority which favoured an arrete criticising the Grand Conseil and reserving the right to make remonstrances.45 The publication of this arrete marked the end of the feud. Any hopes that the government might have entertained of strengthening the Grand Conseil were dashed. Lack of planning and its own feebleness lay behind the crown's defeat, but the parlementaires had demonstrated that as in earlier disputes they were committed to defending their jurisdiction and legal privileges.

in

Although the majority of Parisian judges were loyal to the traditional conception of their institution before 1770, it is undeniable that more radical ideas were being expressed in the court. By examining the evidence from the debates held in the Parlement after 1766, it is possible to identify two principal opposition 43 44 45

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 892-9. BS Ms 804, fols. 187-90. The arrete is printed in Flammermont, Remontrances, II, pp. 899-900.


297

46

groups. These were not parties in any modern sense, but represented factions within the court. The first was the remnants of the parti janseniste which had exerted such an important influence over events in the Parlement since 1750. The second was less easily defined, but centred around the intelligent and erudite figure of Michau de Montblin. Of the original seventeen magistrates identified as forming the parti janseniste in 1754, only eight were still active members of the court in 1770. They were: Chavannes, Clement de Feillet, Gars de Fremainville, Gauthier de Besigny, Lambert de SaintOmer, Murard, Robert de Saint-Vincent, and Rolland de Challerange. Several leading members of the group had been promoted to positions within the royal administration. L'Averdy had been appointed to the post of controleur general in December 1763, Lambert secured a position as a maitre des requites in November 1767, and Drouyn de Vaudeuil became the first president of the Parlement of Toulouse in 1769. The remainder had either retired from the court, had become honorary members,47 or were dead.48 Nor had there been any great influx of new blood. Thus, by 1770 the ranks of the parti janseniste had been seriously depleted, and its ability to dominate the Parlement had correspondingly declined. If the great issues of the papal Bull Unigenitus and the status of the Society of Jesus were no longer the major preoccupations of the court, it was still the parti janseniste that was to the fore in religious affairs. Although less frequently after September 1757, the clergy still continued to deny the sacraments to suspected Jansenists throughout the 1760s.49 Almost without exception, these cases were denounced in the Parlement by members of the parti janseniste - most notably by Lambert de Saint-Omer, Gars de Fremainville, and Clement de Feillet.50 Moreover, after the physical expulsion of former Jesuits from Spain in 1767, it was 46

47

48 49 50

The following is based upon an analysis of the parlementaire debates contained in AN XiA 8297-99, 8542-52 and BS Ms 802-6. Those who had retired or become honorary members (relevant year in brackets) were: the abbe Chauvelin (1768); Durey de Meinieres (1758); Saint-Hilaire (1765); Revol (1760); and Saget (1764). Death accounted for the following: Davy de La Fautriere (1756); and Titon (1768). Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 99-163. BS Ms 802, fols. 87-8, 329-31, 382; ibid., Ms 803, fols. 185-6; ibid., Ms 805, fols. 132, 269, 390.


the abbe Chauvelin and Robert de Saint-Vincent who led the campaign for the adoption of an identical policy in France.51 Nor was the parti janseniste solely concerned with spiritual matters. Gars de Fremainville and Drouyn de Vaudeuil had played major roles during the crisis aroused by the reestablishment of the Grand Conseil in January 1768. Moreover, the records of the Parlement's debates held after 1766 reveal that the Jansenists maintained their attacks on the government across a wide range of issues, including royal finance and especially government policy in Brittany.52 It would seem, therefore, that the attitudes and behaviour which had marked their conduct during the 1750s persisted until 1771. The one significant change in the position of the parti janseniste during the 1760s was its close association with the due de Choiseul. As we have seen, this minister had been associated with the Jansenist magistrates on several important occasions, and he had been behind the idea of appointing L'Averdy to the contrble generate in 1763. Choiseul held enormous powers of patronage and like other successful ministers built a party within the Parlement. One of his most able clients was Lambert who was closely associated with the duke after 1763, and he offered his advice on a variety of financial and judicial matters.53 In 1769, he even presented the minister with a project for the future conduct of international diplomacy.54 His plan envisaged the creation of what was tantamount to an eighteenthcentury United Nations to be based on an unspecified Mediterranean island and equipped with a powerful armed force to maintain world peace. His model for this formidable new institution was the Parlement of Paris. Perhaps not surprisingly his plan was not taken further. The second major source of opposition to government policies in the late 1760s was the circle of magistrates formed around the figure of Michau de Montblin. Michau did not enter the Parlement until 1759, and as a result he missed the stormy years of resistance against the sacramental policies of the archbishop of Paris. Nor does he appear to have been interested in the religious disputes which obsessed the members of the parti jansen51 52 53 54

Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits•, p. 227, nn. 47-8. BS Ms 802, fols. 97, 161, 445; ibid., Ms 803, fol. 389; ibid., Ms 805, fol. 449. AAE Ms Fr 1367, fols. 68-72. AAE Ms Fr 581, fols. 57-8. Lambert was by this time a maitre des requites.


299

iste. Yet, from 1765 until the abolition of the court in 1771, his speeches dominated the debates of the Parlement and, together with another recent recruit counsellor, d'Albert, he wrote many of the court's remonstrances.55 D'Albert was something of a specialist on financial matters and his skills soon attracted the attention of the government. After only five years in the Parlement he was named intendant du commerce, presumably to prevent him causing further trouble. Yet it was Michau who was the real star of the new generation, and his letters reveal a man of lively intelligence who travelled widely in France and was constantly seeking to broaden his knowledge of the nation's law and customs.56 His life was tragically cut short by chancellor Maupeou's callous decision to exile him to the humid and inhospitable He Dieu off the coast of Brittany in 1771. It was virtually a death sentence. Michau suffered from a serious respiratory ailment and died a few months later. Michau was one of the few genuine martyrs to the Parlement's cause, and fortunately we have extensive records of his activities. In 1765, he organised what was essentially a learned society of his fellow magistrates dedicated to the study of the legal history of France. Entitled Conferences sur le droit public de la France, its

meetings were attended by about twenty magistrates and met regularly until 1771,57 The aim of the group was to compile an extensive knowledge of French law from the origins of the monarchy to their own day. As Baker has argued, the approach adopted by Michau and his colleagues mirrored that of the intellectual leaders of the parti janseniste, Le Paige and Durey de Meinieres, as well as leading royal apologists such as JacobNicolas Moreau.58 In an era of constant disputes about legal precedent and ill-defined fundamental laws, such collections were the basic armoury of political debate, and from the 1750s onwards both the crown and the sovereign courts had been scouring their archives to find material to support their respective positions. 55

56 57 58

BS Ms 802-6. Unfortunately, the records are far from exhaustive, but of the eleven sets of remonstrances which are attributed to an author, eight were written by either Michau or d'Albert. AN 90 AP 45, dos. 7. BN Ms Fr 7565-7572. K. M. Baker, 'Memory and practice: politics and the representation of the past in eighteenth-century France', Representations 2 (1985), 134-64. The work of Carcassonne, Montesquieu et le probleme de la constitution, pp. 282-4, should also be consulted.


The fact that the techniques employed by the Jansenist magistrates during the 1740s and 1750s were later employed by a new generation, unconnected to the religious quarrel, underlines their importance in the history of pre-revolutionary France. By combining the attendance records of the Conferences sur le droit public with the details of the debates held in the Parlement during the same period, it is possible to identify at least seven leading critics of royal policy. They were: d'Albert, d'Hocquart, Michau de Montblin, Le Moine, Nouveau de Chennevieres, Roualle de Boisgelou, and Saint-Fargeau.59 In the absence of a unifying factor, such as religious belief or ties of patronage, it is difficult to be precise about the motivation of these men. In the case of Saint-Fargeau, it is likely that disappointment at not being named chancellor or first president in 1768 was fundamental.60 Thwarted ambition may well account for the actions of others in the group, notably president d'Hocquart whose undoubted talents had never been harnessed by the ministry. D'Albert, on the other hand, may even have profited from his outspoken criticisms because, as we have seen, he was quickly named intendant du commerce. Others may have hoped for similar rewards, and the due d'Aiguillon was convinced that Nouveau de Chennevieres and Michau were plotting against him on behalf of the due de Choiseul. There is good evidence to suggest that he was correct. While contemplating the fall of the Parlement in 1771, the president d'Ormesson subsequently noted the existence of a group which he described as 'messieurs de Choiseul', naming Michau, Nouveau, d'Hocquart, and the Jansenist Clement de Feillet, and he wrote of the damage they had caused.61 Nevertheless, despite these important considerations, it would be unwise to discount the possibility that the political ideas of these judges had begun to change by 1770. One final hypothesis which might tie the opposition of part of the parti janseniste to the circle around Michau is their social origins. Amongst the great robe dynasties, such as Mole, Maupeou, Lamoignon, and Pasquier, it was rare to find a persistent 59

60 61

BN Ms Fr 7565, fol. 2, contains the names of the twenty judges who attended those meetings. Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771% pp. 119-20, 126-7. AN 144 AP 116, fols. 3, 44.


301

critic of the crown. An enlightened thinker like Malesherbes was an exception, and when a president a mortier, such as Saint-Fargeau, fomented opposition it was usually in a fit of pique. Those who opposed the government in a more systematic fashion were, generally speaking, newcomers to the court and of comparatively modest social background. Robert de Saint-Vincent and L'Averdy were both sons of lawyers, and Lefevre de Saint-Hilaire's father was a notary. None of them possessed a great fortune. D'Albert was the son of a bailli and Jacques de Chavannes a procureur du roi in a provincial court. There were also several sons offermiers generaux, notably Durey de Meinieres and d'Hocquart. Many of the government's chief critics were, therefore, recently ennobled or in the process of becoming so, and the purchase of an office in the Parlement was part of their social assimilation into the nobility. In his study of the Parlement of Besangon, Maurice Gresset has demonstrated the existence of a similar pattern. 62 He argues that those magistrates having recently entered the second order and having attained the comparatively lofty social heights of a parlement were amongst the most vocal in defending their hard won rights and privileges. The chances of finding compelling evidence to link these factors to the motives of individuals or groups in the Parlement of Paris are slight. All it is possible to do is indicate the comparatively humble status of many leading opponents of the crown, and to note that it was these groups, not the old robe dynasties, who agitated the plenary assemblies of the court. It would, therefore, be an error to suggest that the Parlement had become unmanageable by 1770. The court had contained a vociferous minority liable to resist contentious government policies since at least 1750. Indeed, even chancellor Maupeou initially believed that the Parlement could be easily controlled.63 After a lifetime spent in the court, he knew where opposition was to be found, and he put that knowledge to good use when exiling the ringleaders of the court in 1771. Amongst those singled out for harsh treatment were the Jansenists, Clement de Feillet, Robert de Saint-Vincent, Gars de Fremainville, Gauthier de Besigny, 62 63

Gresset, Gens de justice a Besangon, II, pp. 700-16. Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 18-20.


and Rolland de Challerange, plus Michau, d'Hocquart and Nouveau de Chennevieres.64 It was this group that paid the price of opposition and, in addition to Michau, Nouveau and Gars both died in exile. It was not, however, their radicalism alone which forced Maupeou to adopt such authoritarian measures. Instead, he was subject to compelling external pressures resulting from the Brittany affair which gradually spread beyond the frontiers of the province to the court at Versailles and ultimately to the Parlement of Paris itself. IV

After the failure of the attempted prosecution of the six Breton magistrates during the 'La Chalotais5 affair, the government devoted its energies to fulfilling the second major aim of its policy in Brittany, reestablishing the Parlement of Rennes.65 The edict creating the new court had stipulated that it should be composed of sixty magistrates, but despite the efforts of the provincial commandant, d'Aiguillon, and of the intendant, Flesselles, it proved difficult to raise the necessary number of recruits. The enemies of d'Aiguillon had the perfect opportunity to attack his conduct during the long meeting of the provincial estates held between December 1766 and May 1767. Although that body eventually agreed to most of the government's demands, the meeting was marked by angry denunciations of royal policy and of d'Aiguillon in particular. The ministry was exasperated by this resistance and, with the advice of the commandant, began to formulate plans for a reform of the estates which would limit the scope of any future opposition. At the end of the estates of 1767, d'Aiguillon had been ordered to turn his attention to the Parlement of Rennes. With great difficulty he had succeeded in filling most of the sixty offices needed to complete the Parlement. Yet despite the assiduity with which the new court carried out its duties, it never escaped from the derogatory label - bailliage d'Aiguillon. Staffed by judges loyal 64

65

One of the victims, Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 514-20, not surprisingly spotted the chancellor's tactics. Events in Brittany have been examined by: Marion, D'Aiguillon, pp. 424-552; Pocquet, D'Aiguillon et La Chalotais, III, pp. 1-436; and Freville, L'intendance de Bretagne, II, pp.

241-342.


303

to the commandant, its survival was dependent upon the maintenance of his political credit. Having returned to Versailles in the autumn of 1767, d'Aiguillon and his supporters, headed by his formidable mother, had worked hard to bolster the king's resolve.66 Some within the council were pressing for the recall of the old Parlement, but the due remained optimistic. It was not until March 1768 that the first signs of imminent defeat were glimpsed. D'Aiguillon declined an invitation to preside at the extraordinary meeting of the estates called to approve the government's proposed procedural reforms. There were precedents to support his decision, but his replacement was Jean-Frangois Ogier, a man once described as the 'the intimate friend' of Choiseul.67 Considering the notorious hostility between d'Aiguillon and the chief minister, the message could not have been clearer for the opponents of government policy in Brittany. Not surprisingly, Ogier was welcomed with great enthusiasm on his arrival in the province, and the meeting was conducted without the rancour which had marred its two previous sessions. Moreover, the government proved willing to modify the more contentious aspects of its new reforms. Indeed, when the estates next met in 1769, the ministry confirmed its reputation for weak and indecisive action by abandoning the measures altogether. D'Aiguillon followed these events closely, but his influence was waning. Aware that the ministry was already contemplating a change in policy, he could no longer be sure of receiving backing for the measures he had carried out in Brittany since 1765. Unable or unwilling to assist the government as it abandoned the policies and men which it had sworn to uphold, he resigned in August 1768. The task of pacifying Brittany fell to the new chancellor, Rene Nicolas Charles Augustin de Maupeou, who was appointed in September 1768.68 Rarely has so much been written about a man of whom we know so little. Behind his sorrowful countenance, Maupeou disguised his energy, drive, and ambition. Both Louis 66 67 68

C a r r e , Correspondance de Fontette, p . 4 9 5 - 8 . Le Moy, Le XVIIIe siecle breton, p. 165, Robien to Goniac, n November 1767. There are a number of valuable studies of Maupeou including: Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou; J. de Maupeou, Le chancelier de Maupeou (Paris, 1942); and R. Villers, L'organisation du parlement de Paris et des conseils superieurs d'apres la reforme de Maupeou

(Paris, 1937).

304 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1*754-1774

XV and Choiseul had been aware for some years that in order to manage the judiciary effectively they required a younger man.69 Chancellor Lamoignon and vice-chancellor Maupeou were both in their dotage, animated by little more than mutual loathing. Neither wished to step down for fear of doing the other a favour, and it was only after tortuous negotiations that they were both persuaded to resign in favour of the younger Maupeou.70 Other men were considered, but it seems that Maupeou was Choiseul's favoured candidate.71 Few statesmen have aroused as much controversy as the last chancellor of France, but it is undeniable that he had excellent qualifications for the post, and his appointment was welcomed by contemporaries.72 As William Doyle has so convincingly argued, Maupeou was not a single-minded reformer intent on overturning the traditional judicial structure. Instead, his aim in 1768 and 1769 was to calm the storms which had threatened to wreck the relationship between the crown and the sovereign courts.73 He began competently enough, and quickly settled the long-running feud between the crown and the Parlement of Toulouse. First president Bastard had been in limbo at Versailles since the end of the financial crisis of 1763. In return for his resignation, he was appointed conseiller d'etat and Maupeou was thus able to offer his post to president Murard of the Parlement of Paris.74 He refused, and it was another Parisian magistrate, Drouyn de Vaudeuil who received the honour. By this astute patronage, Maupeou won the gratitude of both the Parlements of Paris and Toulouse, while simultaneously silencing a notorious critic with the responsibilities of office. The chancellor accumulated further goodwill by releasing president Duplaa, of Pau, from a long exile, but it was the Brittany affair which presented him with his most important challenge. 69

70 71

72

73 74

See the letters of Louis XV and Choiseul cited by Calmettes in Choiseul, Memoires, p. 446. Lebrun, Opinions, p. 15. See the comments of Calmettes in Choiseul, Memoires, p. 231. Antoine, Louis XV, p. 901, is more circumspect, noting simply that Choiseul did not oppose Maupeou's appointment. For a sample of opinion, see: due de Croy, Journal ine'dit, II, pp. 346-7; Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 448-52; and Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 15-16. Doyle, 'The parlements of France'. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 454-6.


305

On account of his close ties with Choiseul, and the fact that he had been the first president of the Parlement of Paris during the Brittany affair, Maupeou was well placed to develop his own policy in the province. In January 1769, he was already consulting Ogier about possible plans for the recall of the old Parlement of Rennes. In fact, it was the ideas of Le Paige, who had formed a strong friendship with Ogier, which were eventually passed on to the chancellor.75 The extent to which government attitudes had changed can be gauged by the fact that Le Paige had been a leading opponent of royal policy and the chief legal counsel to the six Breton magistrates. As the ministry edged cautiously towards reinstating the old Parlement in Brittany, the faction which had supported d'Aiguillon began to disintegrate. Without the commandant to protect them, the men who had implemented the king's orders since 1765 realised that their position was hopeless. Flesselles petitioned for, and was granted, a transfer to the less prestigious, but more amenable, intendancy of Lyon; the subdelegue general, Raudin, left the province for Lille; and the subdelegue, Audouard, who later faced trial with d'Aiguillon, was stripped of his post. The members of the reformed Parlement not surprisingly sensed that in these changed circumstances their future was limited and, in June 1769, they appealed for the return of their former colleagues. Not all of the judges at Rennes accepted the need for the recall, and the procureur general of the Parlement, Auguste-Felicite Le Pretre de Chateaugiron, attacked the weakness of government policy. He wrote: I see with sorrow that it is intended to make a fresh start here, and to remove from Brittany all those who, for the last four years, have occupied themselves with sustaining and reestablishing authority . . . it is believed that peace can be reestablished by sacrificing to those that one fears, all the honest people . . . whose obedience today constitutes a crime.

76

As in earlier crises involving the parlements, those who had implemented royal policies felt cheated and abandoned by a government which had failed to protect them. In a memorandum defending the reformed Parlement, Le Pretre lamented that 'if 75 76

BPR Collection Le Paige 564, fol. 2. AN Hi 438, fol. 171, Le Pretre to Mesnard, 12 April 1769.


all the exiles, or a certain number, are recalled, the king's authority will be destroyed, the administration of justice interrupted and the loyal magistrates sacrificed, together with their honour, fortune, estate and, perhaps, even their lives.'77 Exaggerated though his fears were, it was true that life in Brittany might well become intolerable for those who had supported the king. Yet if the d'Aiguillon faction in Brittany was defeated, it was not destroyed. After the coup of 1771, Le Pretre was appointed to the position of president a mortier in the reformed Parlement of Paris. Like many others who had served the king, and had fallen foul of the parlements as a consequence, the events of 1771 brought vindication and a return to influence and power. In the spring of 1769, Maupeou was unaware that he would soon need the services of loyal servants like Le Pretre, and he pressed on with his plan to reinstate the old Parlement. In July 1769, letters patent were issued which recalled the former magistrates and reestablished the Parlement of Rennes. The chancellor had battled hard to overcome the king's aversion to his policy. He had also persuaded the monarch to allow the return of four of the six magistrates who were exiled and imprisoned in November 1765.78 Maupeou was nevertheless unable to persuade Louis XV to reinstate La Chalotais and his son. He did, however, receive permission to appease the disgraced procureur general. On the condition that he resigned his office in the Parlement of Rennes, Maupeou offered several important compensatory honours.79 Even Le Paige, who had been close to La Chalotais throughout the crisis, was dismayed that his friend refused the offer. By rejecting any form of compromise, La Chalotais undermined the chancellor's policy of conciliation from the outset. With the chief victim still in exile, he had no means of defusing the intense passions aroused by the affair in Brittany or of preventing the Parlement of Rennes from mounting an attack against the perceived source of its torments, d'Aiguillon. Maupeou thus failed to end the Brittany affair by reestablishing the Parlement of Rennes because its members would not abandon Ibid., fol. 172, 'Reflexions sur le sisteme de rappeller non l'universalite du parlement, mais un certain nombre des demis'. Pocquet, D'Aiguillon et La Chalotais, III, pp. 419-32. BPR Collection Le Paige 564, fol. 2. Le Paige, who was legal counsel to La Chalotais, recorded these details.


307

the cause of La Chalotais. Their appeals were understandable, but they quickly antagonised the chancellor, who was anxious to demonstrate that his policy had ended the affair. Despite strict orders from both the king and the chancellor to refrain from pursuing the matter further, the Parlement of Rennes took the fateful decision in March 1770 to re-open the criminal investigations of 1766. However, this time the intention was not to proceed against La Chalotais, for the king had declared that he was innocent of all charges levelled against him. Instead, the magistrates began to investigate allegations that d'Aiguillon had procured witnesses to testify against the procureur general. Thus the wheel had turned full circle and the conduct of the former commandant rather than that of the exiled magistrates had become central to the Brittany affair. The Parlement of Rennes had no jurisdiction over d'Aiguillon, a peer of France, but a determination to clear his name combined with the advice of the chancellor and other ministers prompted the duke to ask for judgement by his peers in the Parlement of Paris.

The Parisian judges had ceased to follow events in Brittany with the same intensity after the collapse of the criminal proceedings against the six Breton magistrates. Without an obvious threat to their privileges or jurisdiction, the Parisians were generally reluctant to intervene on their behalf. In May 1767, the Parlement had appealed for the release of the six men who were now exiled and, when the king rejected its plea, it had voted in favour of a further protest almost immediately.80 Yet in marked contrast to the events of 1766, the judges showed little urgency in the preparation of their protest. It was not until 20 March of the following year that the text was finally presented to Louis XV. These remonstrances warrant close scrutiny because they mark a turning point in the attitude of the Parlement of Paris towards the Brittany affair.81 Hitherto, the judges had been motivated by legal and jurisdictional issues, but in March 1768 they adopted a more partisan stance. A large part of their argument was 80 81

Flammermont, Remontrances, II, p. 685. Ibid., pp. 839-53.


intended to prove that the Jesuits were responsible for the troubles in Brittany.82 That the Parlement should seek to blame its old adversaries was not altogether surprising, but the attack served as a screen for a denunciation of d'Aiguillon. For the first time, the commandant was personally accused of being a partisan of the Society, and of responsibility for the unhappy state of the province. Louis XV never made a formal reply to the remonstrances of March 1768, nor did the Parlement press the matter further. Superficially, therefore, the protest was not crucial to the development of the crisis in Brittany. Yet it would be a mistake to assume that the absence of public protests was the result of a lack of interest in the province. An examination of the registers of the court reveals that between January 1767 and March 1770 the situation in Brittany was regularly debated.83 The principal change from 1766, when the crisis was at its height, was the reluctance of the magistrates to convert their concern into positive action in the form of remonstrances. Only twice in this period did the court vote in favour of a protest. While the six Breton magistrates stood on trial for their lives, the Paris Parlement had been united in its opposition to government policy. When the criminal proceedings were abandoned that unanimity vanished. It is important, therefore, to identify those members of the Parlement of Paris who were attempting to persuade their colleagues to continue their attack on government policy in Brittany. Fortunately, it has been possible to consult a collection of registers which name the magistrate responsible for a particular opinion. If the surviving members of the parti janseniste are combined with the seven government critics discussed earlier, we discover that they were responsible for thirteen of the fourteen known occasions on which the Brittany affair was raised for discussion during a plenary assembly of the court.84 Perhaps not surprisingly, the crisis had attracted the attention of the two groups which formed the nucleus of parlementaire opposition. An examination of the 82 83 84

Ibid., pp. 842-4, 847. BS Ms 802-6, and AN XiA 8297-99, 8542-52. Ibid. These figures refer to the occasions when a judge appealed to his colleagues to debate the Brittany affair. It would usually include a speech in favour of remonstrances or some other form of action. Unfortunately, the registers are not complete and as a result the numbers offered here are almost certainly an underestimate.


309

reasons for their involvement in the affair reveals much about the development of the subsequent crisis of 1770 to 1771. For both participants and observers, the Brittany affair was seen as part of the wider struggle between the Jansenists and their vanquished enemies, the Jesuits.85 Such an assessment appears to be at variance with the immediate causes of the crisis which were rooted in the enmity between d'Aiguillon and La Chalotais and the effects of the ill-fated financial declaration of November 1763. There was, however, another dimension to the affair because it is undeniable that the Brittany affair was to some extent connected to the religious quarrels of the 1750s and 1760s. The single most important reason for this continuity was La Chalotais. Jean Meyer has argued persuasively that the procureur general was, like his father before him, a Jansenist.86 Much the same could be said of his fellow exile, Charette de La Gascherie, who had an even clearer 'varnish of Jansenism'.87 The subsequent behaviour of La Chalotais reinforces Meyer's argument. Within weeks of his arrest and imprisonment, in November 1765, La Chalotais had succeeded in smuggling letters to his friend Le Paige, who immediately turned his considerable talents towards the defence of the accused man.88 Together with his fellow Jansenist lawyers Maultrot, Mey, Lalource, d'Outrement, and La Monnoye, Le Paige not only prepared many pamphlets on behalf of La Chalotais and his five companions, but he also conducted their defence when the trial was moved to Paris in November 1766.89 The parti janseniste believed that La Chalotais was the victim of a conspiracy behind which lay their enemies, the Jesuits. Abbe Chauvelin, for example, allegedly wandered morosely around the Palais de Justice lamenting that he was responsible for the woes of La Chalotais, because he had launched the original attack against the Jesuits in 1761.90 Lambert, on the other hand, 85

86 87 88

89 90

Contemporary references to the connection are plentiful, see: Le Verdier, Miromesnil, IV, pp. 1-2, L'Averdy to Miromesnil, 24 January 1765; Carre, Correspondance de Fontette, p. 490, Fontette to La Noue, 28 July 1767; and Le Moy, Le XVIIIe siecle breton, p. 87, Robien to Coniac, 19 February 1766. J. Meyer, La noblesse bretonne au XVIIIe siecle (2 vols., Paris, 1966), II, pp. 994-8. Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits, p. 150. The papers of Le Paige are vital for any study of the Brittany affair, especially BPR Collection Le Paige 532, 559, and 563. BPR Collection Le Paige 563, fols. 10, 13, 16-20. Carre, Correspondance de Fontette, pp. 430-1, La Noue to Fontette, 4 May 1767.


was more practical, helping to prepare both the defence of La Chalotais and attacks on d'Aiguillon during the anxious months of 1766.91 Thus, the imprisonment of the procureur general was seen as part of a wider struggle, which inspired Le Paige and his allies in the Parisian judiciary to fight against government policy in Brittany. If the Jansenist connections of La Chalotais help to explain why he was supported so fervently by Le Paige, or Parisian magistrates like Chauvelin, Clement de Feillet, and Lambert de Saint-Omer, they also shed light upon the subsequent attacks on the character and actions of the due d'Aiguillon. Before the collapse of the judicial proceedings against him, in December 1766, La Chalotais had secretly penned three memoires which were published in his defence.92 In these pamphlets, La Chalotais was determined to convince the public that the source of his unhappy condition was the vindictiveness of d'Aiguillon. He spared no opportunity to blame the despotic conduct of the commandant for the problems of Brittany, claiming that d'Aiguillon was motivated by his support for the Jesuits. The charge was totally unfounded, and d'Aiguillon was no more a tool of the Jesuits than Choiseul was of the Jansenists. The explanation for these claims was the close link between d'Aiguillon and the parti devot at court. By the late 1760s, d'Aiguillon had become the leader of opposition to the due de Choiseul, and his supporters included those who believed that the minister had sacrificed the Society to the Parlements. Yet the voluminous correspondence of d'Aiguillon reveals no obvious religious commitment, and the only significant references to the Jesuits are contained in a number of letters he sent to Louis XV denying any interest in the Society.93 Indeed, throughout the affair the critics of the commandant were obliged to overlook the fact that L'Averdy had played a central part in formulating government policy. Such inconvenient details were ignored and the link between d'Aiguillon and the Jesuits was recounted in numerous libellous pamphlets before 1770. It was these allegations that the Parlement of Paris repeated in its remonstrances of March 1768. One other important example of the Jansenist network during 91 92 93

BPR Collection Le Paige 541, fol. 294, Lambert to Le Paige, 20 April 1766. The pamphlets were dated 15 January, 17 February, and July 1766. AN BB30 1, dos. 4.


311

the Brittany affair was provided by the relationship between Le Paige and Ogier, d'Aiguillon's replacement at the extraordinary meeting of the Breton estates in 1768. During this crucial period, Le Paige wrote a number of important speeches for Ogier, and gave advice about how to deal with the estates.94 Thus one of the leaders of the Parisian opposition to royal policy in Brittany was helping to direct the conduct of the government's own representative. Le Paige wrote of the great friendship between himself and Ogier, an understanding with deeper roots because Ogier had once been part of the parti janseniste in the Parlement of Paris.95 If the Jansenist sympathies of La Chalotais or Charette de La Gascherie account for the fervent support they received from the parti janseniste in Paris, it is insufficient to explain the commitment of other magistrates like Michau de Montblin, Nouveau de Chennevieres,96 or Roualle. Some might have been motivated by a desire to impress Choiseul by attacking the conduct of his rival - or even have been rewarded for doing so. Robert de Saint-Vincent wrote in his memoirs that he had personally been approached by an unnamed woman who was close to La Chalotais and part of the circle around Choiseul.97 She implored him to denounce d'Aiguillon and the 'atrocities' he had committed in Brittany. Saint-Vincent refused, but others may not have been so reticent. Finally, we should not discount the possibility that for certain magistrates the Brittany affair was the most glaring example of the arbitrary and abusive conduct that they so frequently denounced. Whatever the truth of the matter, it is clear that by the spring of 1770 the due d'Aiguillon had attracted the enmity of some of the most influential and powerful figures in the Parlement. It is a fact which explains much about the political crisis that followed.

VI

In January 1770, there was no reason to suppose that within a year the Parlement would be in exile and Maupeou in the process 94 95 96

97

BPR Collection Le Paige 563, fols. 75, 77, 96-7, 100. Bluche, Magistrals du parlement, p. 195, and Campbell, Fleury, p. 327. There was some overlap between the two groups because meetings to concert the defence of La Chalotais were held in the house of Nouveau de Chennevieres, BPR Collection Le Paige 541, fol. 295, comte de Noyau to Le Paige, 4 July 1766. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 468.

312 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-17*74

of implementing far-reaching reforms of the judiciary. Those historians who have assumed that a tide of opposition eventually provoked a royal counter-offensive have overestimated the extent to which attitudes in the Parlement of Paris had changed. Certainly, the magistrates had become more vociferous in their criticisms of the government, and the volume of remonstrances against royal policies had increased sharply since 1750. Yet the great majority of these protests were concerned with traditional areas of the court's competence, and particularly its privileges and jurisdiction. Such issues captured the attention of the judges and often produced unanimous and prolonged denunciations of government policies. Although the objectives of the court were generally conservative, some judges were nevertheless prepared to use comparatively daring arguments to justify their stance. As it was usually the same men who drafted the ensuing remonstrances, their arguments became those of the court as a whole. By 1770, such actions were far from novel and had formed an integral part of judicial politics for at least two decades. Appeals to the peers or repeated remonstrances had lost their capacity to shock, and when following, for example, the Grand Conseil affair of 1768 it is difficult to escape the impression that the Parlement was repeating the lines it had learned over a decade before. On financial questions its voice was even more muted, and when handled tactfully by L'Averdy or Terray it scarcely constituted a serious threat to the levy of taxation. If the majority remained traditional in outlook, there was nevertheless an intransigent core of opposition. Although less effective than during its heyday in the decade prior to the expulsion of the Jesuits, the parti janseniste was still a recognisable centre of resistance. It was joined by a second group, more secular in orientation, animated by the talented Michau de Montblin. Yet for all their oratorical elegance, these magistrates never ventured far beyond the antiquarian theories of Le Paige. While they represented a second wave of opposition in the Parlement, they did not add a new ideological or constitutional dimension to the existing political vocabulary of the court. If parlementaire militancy was not responsible for the crisis of 1770-1, there was nevertheless a link between the crown's most persistent critics and the true cause of that upheaval, the Brittany affair. Although for different reasons, both the parti janseniste and Michau's circle were hostile to the due


313

d'Aiguillon and were associated, rightly or wrongly, with Choiseul. By exposing himself to a trial before the Parlement of Paris, d'Aiguillon put his life and honour in the hands of some of his fiercest critics.

CHAPTER

I I

The fall of the Parlement of Paris,

On 4 April 1770, the Brittany affair entered its final phase with the trial of the due d'Aiguillon before the Parlement of Paris. He stood accused of abusing his authority whilst serving as commandant in Brittany, and of attempting to procure witnesses to testify against his great enemy, the procureur general of the Rennes Parlement, La Chalotais. The trial of d'Aiguillon commenced amidst much ceremony, but a definitive verdict was never reached. On 27 June, the king held a lit de justice at which the due was declared innocent of the charges against him. The Parlement refused to accept that a peer could be exonerated by force of authority, and the ceremony marked the beginning of a destructive conflict with the government. Determined to end the affair with a victory for the crown, the chancellor, Maupeou, extended the dispute into a constitutional battle of the first order by publishing an edict curbing the powers of the Parlement. Undaunted, the judges refused to recognise the new law and, with neither side willing to compromise, Maupeou was forced to exile the magistrates in January 1771. It was the first stage of an ambitious reform of the judiciary which contemporaries christened 'Maupeou's revolution'. Not surprisingly, these momentous events have long attracted the attention of historians. 1 Perhaps the most durable interpretation of the crisis has concentrated upon the broader theme of a reforming monarchy overcoming the reactionary opposition of 1

The work of Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, was for many years the only serious study of the political crisis of 1770-1. However, in the last twenty-five years several important works have been published which seek to revise his view of events. See: Doyle, 'The parlements of France'; Bosher, 'The French crisis of 1770'; Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771'; and Echeverria, The Maupeou revolution.

314

The fall of the Parlement of Paris

315

2

the Parisian magistrates. The evidence to support this assertion is not convincing, at least in the case of the Parlement of Paris, but that does not necessarily undermine the thesis of Maupeou as a reforming minister.3 Unfortunately for the partisans of a rejuvenated monarchy, the work of William Doyle has demonstrated that whatever the consequences of the political crisis of 1770-1, and they are still hotly disputed,4 the subsequent reforms were not part of a long-term reforming strategy.5 Instead, the trial of d'Aiguillon acted as a catalyst upon a series of conflicts dating back to at least 1763. For those within the Parlement who saw the due as the persecutor of La Chalotais, it was the perfect moment to settle old scores. When the chancellor stopped the trial, he provoked a classic legal quarrel with the Parlement, and, as on previous occasions, both sides proved willing to use constitutional arguments in order to advance their cause. That these events produced the revolution of 1771 and not some form of compromise or government defeat as in 1753— 4 or 1756-7 was the result not only of Maupeou's mismanagement, but also the factional rivalries which divided Versailles. These ministerial and court battles spilled over into the Parlement, which served first as their forum and subsequently as their victim.

In order to understand the crisis of 1770-1, it is necessary to consider the position of the due d'Aiguillon. In August 1768, he had resigned in disgust from his post as commandant of Brittany. 2

3 4

5

See: Cobban, 'The parlements of France'; Mousnier, The institutions of France, II, pp. 645-54; and Laugier, Le triumvirat. The most recent and authoritative version of this interpretation is Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 909-92. See chapter 10 above. There are two principle strands of thought about the effectiveness of the reforms implemented by Maupeou. The first claims that they could have ended the disputes with the sovereign courts and perhaps even saved the monarchy. See: Cobban, 'The parlements of France'; Hudson, 'In defense of reform'; and Laugier, Le triumvirat. The alternative view maintains that Maupeou's reforms were irrelevant to the real problems of the crown and perhaps even exacerbated them. See, for example: Doyle, 'The parlements of France'; Echeverria, The Maupeou revolution', and J. A. Carey, Judicial reform in France before the revolution of ij8g (Harvard, 1981), pp. 55-6, 93-106. Doyle, 'The parlements of France'.


He had then been obliged to watch both the disintegration of his policies and the humiliation of his supporters in the province. Rightly or wrongly, he blamed the due de Choiseul for these disappointments, and once relieved of administrative responsibility he began a fierce campaign against his rival at court.6 With his energy and ambition, d'Aiguillon, who was ably assisted by his uncle the legendary marechal de Richelieu, acted as a magnet for the enemies of the principal minister. Deprived of a leader since the death of the dauphin in 1765, the parti devot fell increasingly under the charms of a man who symbolised the defence of royal authority and opposition to the hated Choiseul.7 It was a marriage of convenience because, despite the allegations of his enemies, the idea that d'Aiguillon and Richelieu were personally sympathetic to the Jesuits was plainly ridiculous. Motives of ambition and jealousy were important in their thinking, but we should not disregard the very genuine anger provoked by the perceived abandonment of loyal servants of the crown. In the summer of 1768, however, the prospects of d'Aiguillon overthrowing his rival seemed remote. Choiseul was happily celebrating a decade in power, and his grip on the key offices of state remained secure. He continued to hold the office of secretary of state for war, and since April 1766 had assumed the position of secretary of state for foreign affairs. This post had been taken from his cipher, Praslin, who had been compensated with the navy and the largely honorary title chef du conseil royal desfinances.These changes appear to have been motivated by the desire to lighten the load on Praslin, who was on the verge of retiring from the council.8 Not that the government was affected by these changes because Praslin, as far as one can tell, never made any significant decisions of his own, and he was presumably kept in the council by Choiseul in order to prevent the appointment of any potential adversaries. The strength of Choiseul's political credit was confirmed with two new appointments during 1768. In September, he was instrumental in choosing Maupeou 6

7

8

An opinion shared by a variety of observers, see: Augeard, Memoires secrets, p. 30; Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 29-31; Croy, Journal ine'dit, II, pp. 360, 372-4. The most comprehensive study of the parti devot during the 1760s is Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771', pp. 70-187, but the work of Hardman, 'Ministerial politics in France', should also be consulted. The letters exchanged by Louis XV and Choiseul cited by Calmettes in Choiseul, Memoires, pp. 446-8, make this clear.


317

as chancellor, and a month later he had L'Averdy replaced as controleur general with another protege, Etienne Maynon d'Invault. Admittedly, he was not totally dominant in the council because of the continuing presence of d'Aiguillon's uncle, Saint-Florentin, and his old enemy, Bertin. Choiseul also had to contend with the intrigues of the prince de Soubise, an old ally of Pompadour and head of the powerful Rohan clan. It was at best a minor irritation. Soubise was as successful in politics as he had been on the field of battle at Rosbach. If there was a breach in Choiseul's defences, it was that left by the death of his patroness, Mme de Pompadour. Although the pare aux cerfs had been subsequently closed, the king continued to flit from one young woman to the next, and the power once wielded by Pompadour was coveted by all of the principal cabals at Versailles. Various women were introduced to the king, many on their own initiative, with the aim of winning his affection and the power and riches that would follow. They included Mile de Romans, Mme d'Esbarbes, and even, it was alleged, duchesse de Gramont, Choiseul's sister.9 Blessed with the intelligence of her brother, she also had his looks, and Louis soon tired of her charms. The competition nevertheless continued and it was the marechal de Richelieu who finally found the key to the king's heart with a beautiful courtesan, Jeanne Becu.10 An illegitimate child of humble origins, Becu had been manipulated by an adventurer, comte Jean du Barry, known as the roue, and had acquired a reputation in the loose-living salons of the capital. Her genuine beauty had attracted, among many others, the financier, Sainte-Foix, and the old satyr, Richelieu, himself. Unlike Pompadour, she was not capable of, or interested in, the personal exercise of political authority. She was nevertheless the perfect vehicle for the ambitions of Richelieu and d'Aiguillon. Although the precise details of her first meeting with Louis are unknown, the crucial link with Richelieu seems incontestable. By the summer of 1768, she had become the latest in a long line of royal mistresses. Past precedent had, however, demonstrated that her situation was precarious, and to be really useful to 9 10

Ibid., pp. 201-2. Vatel, Mme du Barry, I, pp. 160-70, Due de Castries, La du Barry (Paris, 1986), pp. 57-97, and Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 886-8.


Richelieu and d'Aiguillon she needed to succeed Pompadour as maitresse en titre, effectively a position of state. In order to be able to assume the role, it was necessary to arrange the presentation of Becu to the royal family in order that she could follow the king in his carriages, enter the royal residences, such as Versailles and Fontainebleau, and join the daily life of the court.11 Convention dictated that only married women could hold the title, and to fulfil this requirement Richelieu arranged a marriage of convenience with the roue's brother, Guillaume du Barry. The route was now open for her presentation. Even Louis XV might have balked at the prospect of presenting the new Mme du Barry to his long-suffering queen, the saintly Maria Leczcinska. However, she escaped witnessing the shame of her spouse by conveniently expiring in August 1768. Nothing now stood in the way of du Barry, and by December Paris was expecting the announcement of her presentation.12 The usually reliable Hardy, who recorded these rumours claimed that it was Richelieu, d'Aiguillon, and Bertin who were pressing for the presentation. In January 1769, he repeated these observations and added that 'the rumours which circulated last December about the presentation of the comtesse du Barry, mistress of the king, and about the disgrace of the due de Choiseul, that one is certain must follow, have started again.'13 Hardy had neatly described the aims of Richelieu and d'Aiguillon, but events would prove that they had overestimated the power of a mistress. Despite the pressure exerted by du Barry and her patrons, it was not until 21 April 1769 that Louis finally agreed to the presentation. He had good reason to feel nervous, and his choice all but guaranteed that he would be remembered as a debauched ruler who put his own gratification before the interests of the crown. Unlike Mme de Pompadour, who had been presented by the princess de Conti, it proved difficult to find a courtier willing to accept the social stigma of sponsoring Mme du Barry. It was at this point that the dowager duchesse d'Aiguillon made her contribution to the family cause by persuading a poor noblewoman in her pay, the comtesse de Beam, to suffer the ignominy 11 12 13

Vatel, Mme du Barry, I, pp. 168-9. Hardy, 'Mes loisirs', BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 81. Ibid., fol. 85.


319

of presenting a commoner of ill-repute to the court as the king's official mistress.14 The rise of Mme du Barry was a triumph for the enemies of Choiseul, and for the Richelieu clan in particular. More surprisingly, she was greeted as a saviour by the parti divot, who, with admirable casuistry, declared that cit is God who permits an evil to cure an even greater evil, and this greater evil, according to them, is the existence of M. de Choiseul'.15 Supporters of the minister were outraged by the ploy. In his memoirs, written some years later, Augeard, the secretaire des commandements of MarieAntoinette, claimed that 'the due d'Aiguillon . . . to overthrow his enemy, contrived to give to the king for mistress a whore of the lowest level dragged from the filth.'16 Despite the unchivalrous tone of his comments, Augeard had grasped the essential point behind d'Aiguillon's strategy. What he failed to mention was the conduct of Choiseul, who had tried unsuccessfully to supplant du Barry in January 1769 with another young woman of low birth and unconventional morals, Mme Millin.17 With a weak king known to be open to manipulation by his mistresses, such intrigues were simply too tempting to resist. Once established at court, du Barry was used by her entourage in a bid to dethrone Choiseul. Her unique position allowed d'Aiguillon and the divots to pass criticisms of the minister directly to the king. In March 1769, for example, Jean-Louis Favier was commissioned to write a pamphlet condemning the minister.18 On the original document, Favier noted that it was written on the orders of Mme du Barry, although he added that the order came from 'people that were not named to me, but who it was permitted to divine'. It was not the favourite who wanted a critique of the conduct of Choiseul, and the only realistic interpretation is that the parti divot was at work. Favier was more than equal to his task, and wrote a scathing denunciation of the chief minister based upon the two areas of policy which infuriated his opponents. First, he attacked the diplomatic policy pursued 14 15 16 17

18

AAE Ms Fr 1366, fols. 63-4. Quoted in Castries, La du Barry, p. 73. Augeard, Memoires secrets, p. 30. Vatel, Mme du Barry, I, pp. 183-4, a n ^ L- R- de Belleval, Souvenirs d'un chevau-leger (Paris, 1865), pp. 117-18. AAE Ms Fr 581, fol. 19, The memoir, entitled 'Precis de faits sur l'administration de M. de Choiseul', provides an excellent insight into the thought of the devot faction.


by Choiseul, which he claimed had resulted in the sacrifice of French interests to the Austrian court. Second, the minister was accused of surrendering royal authority to the parlements, which meant, amongst other things, abandoning the Jesuits. Du Barry continued to act as a conduit for criticisms of Choiseul until his fall, but this was not her only service to his enemies. Like Pompadour before her, she gradually came to exercise an influence over the distribution of patronage. Her credit was illustrated in September 1769, when she secured the coveted post of lieutenant general of the chevaux-legers for d'Aiguillon.19 As the commander of this elite regiment, d'Aiguillon not only had automatic access, but also the right to work alone with the king.20 What made his appointment even more pleasurable was the knowledge that he had beaten the vicomte de Choiseul, the minister's candidate, to the post. As the power of the mistress to deliver rewards became apparent, the court adjusted to her status. Thus, when the king held a supper party with the favourite in October 1769, they were accompanied by, among others, d'Aiguillon, Richelieu, prince de Conde, marechale de Mirepoix, and the prince de Soubise.21 For all the advantages they had gained, d'Aiguillon and his allies had failed in their primary objective of toppling Choiseul. Moreover, Mme du Barry was not politically ambitious on her own account, and she wanted nothing better than to be left alone to enjoy her good fortune. Had Choiseul so desired, then some form of amicable settlement could have been negotiated between himself and the mistress, an accommodation Louis personally tried to broker on at least one occasion.22 Instead, Choiseul adopted a lofty tone, and he allowed his own entourage, headed by his sister, duchesse de Gramont and her cronies, Mme de Beauvau and comtesse de Brionne, to insult du Barry, and, almost certainly, to patronise the authors of the libellous pornographic tracts that did so much to tarnish the image of the king. There was nothing new about these tactics, similar 19 20 21 22

Belleval, Souvenirs, p. 121-32, and Lebrun, Opinions, p. 31. Vatel, Mme du Barry, I, p. 291. Deffand, Lettres, I, p. 360, n. 3. See the comments of Calmettes in Choiseul, Memoires, pp. 226-8, and G. Maugras, Le due et la duchesse de Choiseul, leur vie intime, leurs amis et lew temps (Paris, 1902), p p .


321

attacks had been made upon Mme de Pompadour and most of her predecessors, but they undoubtedly added to the bitterness of the court struggles. The criticisms of du Barry are well documented, but what is less well known is the existence of a strong core of support for the favourite. In his memoirs the former chevau-leger, marquis de Belleval, claimed that the men in his regiment hated Choiseul and were fully behind d'Aiguillon and Mme du Barry.23 As a tribute, they called themselves 'the Barriens'. It is a fascinating example of how court politics could affect the most unlikely quarters and yet another indication of the seriousness of the feud between the two rival camps. It was against this background that Maupeou was appointed chancellor, and his early moves to pacify the parlements reflected his debt to Choiseul. After dismantling the reformed Parlement of Rennes, and trying to liberate La Chalotais, Maupeou was clearly anathema to d'Aiguillon. The chancellor was nevertheless an accomplished courtier and he sensibly established good relations with the new favourite. Nor was he prepared to act as a loyal client of Choiseul indefinitely, and as chancellor he had the opportunity to advance his own credentials as an independent political force. Only a year after his promotion, Maupeou was engaged in a serious feud with his former patron on account of the worsening financial crisis. The controleur general, Maynon dTnvault, proposed a radical series of reforms in December 1769, which were blocked in the council by the criticisms of his colleagues led by Maupeou.24 Rather than compromise, Maynon promptly resigned, and when Louis turned to Choiseul for a replacement he suggested Maupeou. The chancellor sensibly declined this poisoned chalice, and instead persuaded the king to appoint his own nominee, abbe Terray. It was a predictable choice. Terray was the only member of the enquetes who had not resigned following the lit de justice of December 1756, and he had served alongside Maupeou as rapporteur when the latter was first president of the Parlement of Paris. It was the abbe who had written the 23 24

Belleval, Souvenirs, p. 132. The conflict between Choiseul and Maupeou has been examined by Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771', pp. 205-30, and by Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 38-43.


Parlement's remonstrances criticising the policies of Maynon, as part of a campaign with Maupeou to unseat the controleur general?* A worldly cleric with a ferocious appetite for work, Terray was not slow to grasp the nettle of financial reform. His aim was to impose severe cuts in the big spending departments of war and the navy, while simultaneously implementing a partial bankruptcy.26 His policy included the forced reduction of interest rates and suspending payment oirescriptions, on 18 February 1770, under cover of assuring the payment of the rentes on the Hotel de Ville. His action was likely to be as popular with the parlementaires as it was disastrous for the court bankers, who were thrown into a serious credit crisis. Both of these policies brought him into conflict with Choiseul, who was not only responsible for military expenditure, but also intimately linked to the bankers headed by La Borde and Magon de La Balue.27 Choiseul took their case to the council on 4 March, arguing that Terray had pushed the bankers and by extension the state to the edge of ruin.28 After a furious quarrel, Louis calmed tempers by asking everyone present to put their hands into their pockets in order to help Magon in his hour of need. This almost comic gesture produced 75,000 livres to underwrite the hard-pressed banker. In a year of failed harvests and financial hardship, his fate and that of his colleagues attracted little public sympathy, and Terray did his best to assure his friends in the Parlement that he genuinely had no other choice.29 Historians have generally been sympathetic to Terray and have acknowledged that the financial crisis, which was not of his making, left him with few alternatives.30 However, his efforts created terrible friction with Choiseul and started speculation about which of the two would be disgraced.31 What the rumour25 26

27

28 29

30 31

Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 38-43. Ibid., pp. 45-50. The work of M. Marion, Histoire Jinanciere, I, pp. 246-59, and Laugier, Le triumvirat, pp. 166-70, should also be consulted. A useful source for following the financial crisis are the despatches sent from Paris by Chamier, BEWSRO 423/321-4. I am extremely grateful to Dr Hamish Scott for bringing these documents to my attention. Useful information is also contained in Choiseul, Memoires, pp. 232-68. BEWSRO 423/323, 10 March 1770. See: ibid., 423/321, 20 February 1770; and AN 144 AP 102, dos. 1, fol. 4, Terray to d'Ormesson, 26 February 1770. Laugier, Le triumvirat, pp. 166—341, and Marion, Histoirefinanciere,I, pp. 247-59. BEWSRO 423/323, 10 March 1770.


323

mongers had forgotten was the king's characteristic tolerance for such quarrels, and as the dust settled both men were still in place. Thus, in addition to the political contours provided by the feud between Choiseul and d'Aiguillon, there was now a further schism between Maupeou and Terray, on the one hand, and Choiseul and his allies on the other. It was against this background that the storm clouds of 1770 gathered. 11

Despite his growing influence at court, d'Aiguillon had not escaped from the Brittany affair. The efforts of the chancellor to calm the province had failed, and after several unsuccessful appeals on behalf of La Chalotais, the Parlement of Rennes decided to take the initiative. On 3 March 1770, it opened criminal proceedings against the due d'Aiguillon on the charge of suborning witnesses to give evidence against La Chalotais. Maupeou quashed the arrete ordering these investigations, but it was not enough to calm the situation. Instead, the affair developed quickly because d'Aiguillon demanded to be tried before the Cour des Pairs. It was not the first time he had made such a request, an earlier plea having been rejected by the ministry in February 1769, presumably because it ran contrary to the policy of pacification then being employed.32 A little over a year later, the government was prepared to alter its stance and, at a meeting of the royal council held on 24 March, d'Aiguillon's wish was granted. The desire of d'Aiguillon to clear his name was perfectly understandable. Pride and honour played a part, but above all he believed unequivocally in his own innocence. Despite his feud with La Chalotais, there is no evidence that he had acted without the agreement of the king or his ministers, and legal redress was the obvious solution to his problems. Moreover, it appears that he was. encouraged to think that judicial vindication would be easily achieved. Lebrun, who was a trusted adviser of Maupeou, claimed that d'Aiguillon chose to risk a trial because of the advice he received from Jean-Omer Joly de Fleury, a president in the Parlement, 32

AN BB30 i, dos. 9, d'Aiguillon to Saint-Florentin, 9 February 1769.

324 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 17'54-1774

who assured him that he would be acquitted.33 Mme de Forcalquier, Joly's mistress, was a firm supporter of d'Aiguillon, which lends further support to his theory.34 However, when Lebrun insisted that the chancellor had tried to dissuade d'Aiguillon from pursuing such a course he was less convincing. In a crucial letter to Louis XV, d'Aiguillon revealed a very different version of events.35 He stated that: for a month I had not stopped telling the chancellor that all the steps of the Parlement of Brittany were intended to implicate me in a criminal case of which I had everything to fear. He always replied that he was watching and that I must be calm. But he did nothing to prevent the misfortune that I dreaded [the arrete of 3 March] . . . and only took the trouble to stop it when it was too late. Not content to accuse Maupeou of acting carelessly, d'Aiguillon claimed that he had been promised that 'the investigation would be promptly completed, that, with Your Majesty presiding, a judgement would not be delayed, and would be such as I had grounds to hope given the knowledge that he has of the falseness of the allegations made against me.' It is necessary to treat d'Aiguillon's claims very carefully. Yet even allowing for an element of special pleading, it seems plausible that Maupeou had misled the due about the course his trial was liable to take. Some supporting evidence is provided by Le Paige, who was frequently a reliable witness of public affairs. He suggested that it was the chancellor who convinced d'Aiguillon to seek exoneration before the Parlement of Paris, even to the extent of ignoring the misgivings of Louis XV.36 It seems, therefore, that Maupeou had promised d'Aiguillon that his trial would be a painless affair with a swift and comforting verdict. If this was his intention, then he was a trifle 33 34 35

36

Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 31-2. Deffand, Lettres, I, p. 334, Mme du Deffand to Walpole, 16 February 1769. AN BB30 i, dos. 4, d'Aiguillon to Louis XV, June 1770. This was a copy of one of the many letters sent by d'Aiguillon to the king. It was written a few days before the lit de justice of 27 June 1770 and explains why the duke wanted his trial to be abandoned. BPR Collection Le Paige 564, fol. 4. Interestingly, Le Paige noted that Maupeou also sought to persuade the marechal de Richelieu, uncle and adviser of d'Aiguillon, that a trial was the sensible solution to his problem. Similar comments were made by Chamier, BEWSRO 423/326, 5 June 1770.


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optimistic, although the Fitz-James case of 1764 provided a recent encouraging precedent. On that occasion it had proved possible to use the prestige of the Paris Parlement to reprimand the Parlement of Toulouse, and a similar conclusion in 1770 would have been to his advantage. By ending the Brittany affair, the chancellor would have won the gratitude of both d'Aiguillon and his former colleagues, but it would require both luck and political skill. The trial of d'Aiguillon opened on 4 April when the Parlement assembled with both the king and the peers in attendance.37 In a concise speech, the chancellor neatly outlined the purpose of the meeting: 'it is a question of examining if an authority which was given for the felicity of the people has become the instrument of their misfortune, if the confidence of the sovereign has been betrayed or slandered.'38 After his statement, the court heard a report of the information incriminating d'Aiguillon which had been collected by the Parlement of Rennes and forwarded to Paris. These details were subsequently examined by the gens du roi, who informed the court of their conclusions on 7 April. At that meeting, the company declared that the actions of the Breton Parlement were invalid — a decision consistent with that reached in 1764 during the Fitz-James affair - and ordered that the witnesses be summoned to Paris. By denying the right of a provincial court to act against a peer, the Parlement of Paris was underlining its claim to be the unique Cour des Pairs. In another echo of the 1764 crisis, the Parlement of Rennes protested about the decision, but the Parisians were unshaken and assembled with the peers on 27 April to reaffirm their preeminence. However, any parallel with the events of 1764 was shortlived because the Parisian magistrates were determined to hold a genuine trial. While understandable, it was this decision which began to reveal the shortcomings in Maupeou's policy. Harnessing the prestige of the peers, the Parlement of Paris, and even the king himself, in an imposing ceremony to rebuke the 37

38

Details of the ceremony of 4 April are provided by Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 112-14, and by Hardy's journal, BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 135. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 112.

326 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754-1 yj4.

Parlement of Rennes was one thing; to allow the Parisian magistrates to occupy themselves with the details of the Brittany affair was very much another. It was not long before warning signs began to appear. After the meeting of 7 April, the magistrates appointed to conduct the investigation proceeded diligently, and a total of seventysix witnesses were interrogated.39 It had been intended to hold a further assembly with the peers on 5 May, but that meeting was postponed and, two days later, Louis XV ordered the written evidence to be delivered to him. Although his request was unopposed, the judges were sufficiently alarmed to convoke the peers and deliver the warning that 'honour is not reestablished by way of authority'.40 Issued on 9 May, it was the first indication that the Parlement feared that the trial would not proceed to a normal conclusion. Similar concerns were voiced on 29 May, when the gens du roi were sent to Versailles to deliver an appeal for a prompt end to the case. Louis XV was non-committal, and he ordered them to return when their investigations were complete. Thus, it was not until 22 June that the gens du roi were able to announce that the Cour des Pairs would assemble on the 27th. Rather than allow the court to pronounce a definitive judgement, the king chose to hold a lit de justice. The purpose of the ceremony was to end the trial and vindicate d'Aiguillon. Maupeou sought to justify this abrupt change in policy by appealing to the basic principles of monarchical government. He declared that 'those who have been charged with the execution of his orders are only accountable to the king who has given them. His Majesty would fail himself if he allowed a judicial debate about the details of the government of his kingdom.'41 Clearly, there was a striking contradiction between these words and those uttered at the opening of the trial in April. Having encouraged the magistrates to uncover alleged abuses in the royal administration, the chancellor was now declaring such matters to be beyond their jurisdiction. Such inconsistent policy was in itself provocative, and when combined with an attempt to whitewash the reputation of d'Aiguillon, it was certain to cause controversy. 39 40 41

Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 78-87 and Marion, D'Aiguillon, pp. 567-75. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 118. Ibid., pp. 119-25, esp. p. 121.


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A variety of theories has been advanced to explain the sudden reversal of royal policy in June 1770. Marion claimed that the chancellor persuaded Louis XV to hold the lit de justice in order to prevent the Parlement from finding d'Aiguillon guilty.42 Doyle, on the other hand, has suggested that Maupeou was deliberately misleading d'Aiguillon by abandoning the trial and leaving a permanent stain on the due's reputation.43 Maupeou would then be left as the only realistic challenger to the chief minister, Choiseul. It is an attractive argument, but one which overestimates the ability of Maupeou to direct the course of events. If the chancellor genuinely did seek to eliminate d'Aiguillon's influence, he made an extremely poor attempt. Once the Parlement began to question the role the due had played in Brittany, the chancellor was forced to come to his aid. Thus, from June 1770 to January 1771, Maupeou had no alternative but to defend the accused man against his former judges. As a result of his role in the Brittany affair, d'Aiguillon had attracted the enmity of principal leaders of parlementaire opinion, and the decision to hold the trial was imprudent. As we have seen, within the Parlement two factions, the parti janseniste and the circle around Michau de Montblin, had persistently opposed d'Aiguillon and had continued to do so until the exile of the Parlement.44 Michau was particularly visible in the Parlement's assemblies, and together with his allies and the Jansenists he increasingly turned his fire on the chancellor. Nouveau de Chennevieres, on the other hand, actually compiled a memorandum detailing the alleged crimes of d'Aiguillon using information sent to him from Rennes, which he forwarded to the procureur general.45 The effectiveness of these critics was augmented by the Parlement's crucial decision, taken on 10 May, to exclude those judges who were relatives of d'Aiguillon from its debates. It removed the first president and a majority of the presidents a mortier from many important discussions in which they could have counselled restraint.46 42 43 44

45 46

Marion, D'Aiguillon, pp. 573, 578-9. Doyle, 'The parlements of France', pp. 419-22. The evidence is rather fragmented, but see: AN BB30 1, dos. 16; BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fols. 25, 27; AAE Ms Fr 1366, fols. 223-5; BS Ms 806, fols. 228-9, 340. The journals of Hardy, BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fols. 135-200, and that of d'Albertas, BN NAF 4386, fols. 1-64, also give details about those who spoke in plenary sessions. BN Collection Joly de Fleury 2080, fols. 223, 225-8. The debate was recorded by Hardy, BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 146.


Thus, the trial offered an opportunity for the enemies of d'Aiguillon to intensify their criticisms of his conduct. Their behaviour increased the due's fears that he would be found guilty and helps to explain why a judgement was never reached. We cannot be certain that d'Aiguillon would have been condemned, but we can be sure that he personally believed that the magistrates would convict him. For the due, the lit de justice of 27 June was a desperate effort to save his reputation. He explained his fears in a letter sent to Louis XV days before the lit de justice*1 In what was essentially an appeal for help, he sought to convince the king that if he was abandoned the monarchy itself would be threatened. He acknowledged that he would be found guilty, but he added: they wish to destroy the ancient form of government in order to substitute an administration to their own liking in which they will have the principal part . . . and the result of my affair will give them the means of executing this project by putting them in a position to know the administration of Your Majesty and to censure it, to denounce all those who have acted under orders, ministers, commandants, intendants, commissioners of the council . . . . Your Majesty will have the pain of seeing them reprimanded before his own eyes for having obeyed him. Although this was a prediction of the future, it could easily have been a description of the clashes between the parlements and the royal administration since 1750. He warned Louis XV that 'the ministers of Your Majesty are as convinced as I am, and have not hidden it from me. But some wish to please the Parlement, the others fear it . . . [If] Your Majesty ignores what is happening, he will finish by being the victim.' Significantly, d'Aiguillon also stated that both Maupeou and Terray wanted the trial to continue. The evidence suggests, therefore, that it was d'Aiguillon who persuaded Louis XV to hold a lit de justice on 27 June. He achieved his aim by convincing the monarch that further appeasement of government critics was impossible. Such an interpretation casts a different light on both the crisis of 1770 and the subsequent reforms of Maupeou. The great achievement of d'Aiguillon was to persuade Louis XV that his own authority would be lost if he allowed his former servant to be sacrificed to the Parlement. It provided a tremendous 47

AN BB30 1, dos. 4, d'Aiguillon to Louis XV, June 1770.


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advantage to the members of the devot faction in their battle to oust Choiseul, who had kept clear of the events surrounding the trial. As for Maupeou, he was caught in the wake of d'Aiguillon's demand to end the trial, which had compromised his relations with the Parlement and severely restricted his ability to chart an independent course of his own. in

In his treatment of d'Aiguillon since his appointment as chancellor, Maupeou had behaved as an opportunist and clearly would not have been unduly troubled by the ruin of a potential rival. However, the events of 27 June narrowed his scope for manoeuvre because the Parlement refused to accept the verdict. Many in the court blamed the chancellor for the king's action, and he was forced both to defend d'Aiguillon, and himself against the attacks of his former colleagues. A cycle of threat and counterthreat was rapidly established which ended in the exile of the judges in January 1771. Only the most naive observer could have expected the lit de justice to end the Brittany affair. Such an outcome was never feasible. In their arret of 9 May, the magistrates had formally stated that a judicial verdict based solely on the king's authority was illegitimate. It was, therefore, certain that strong protests would follow, the only areas of doubt being the targets and the persistence of that opposition. On the eve of the lit de justice, the Parlement had invited the peers to attend the court on 28 June to discuss the ceremony.48 Rather than permit a meeting which was liable to censure its actions, the government banned the peers from attending. When informed by the king, the due d'Orleans reacted angrily and refused to inform the other princes.49 More importantly, he was receiving advice from his councillor, the avocat La Monnoye, who had prepared a protest for the princes after a similar ban had been imposed during the Grand Conseil affair of 1756.50 Since those events, La Monnoye had acted with, among others, Le 48 49 50

Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 125. AN K 699, dos. 7. Swann, 'Grand Conseil affair', pp. 456-7.


Paige, Mey, and Maultrot, as part of the defence counsel for La Chalotais. It was almost certainly La Monnoye who persuaded Orleans to send his premier gentilhomme, comte de Pons, as an emissary to the Parlement with a letter excusing his absence on 28 June, and the other princes of the blood followed suit.51 Their decision was consistent with that of 1756, but it was given a novel and threatening twist by the request of the emissaries to be allowed to sit in the grand'chambre amongst the councillors of the Parlement. In order to justify their pretensions they cited a number of precedents, notably those of 24 September 1648, 11 January 1650, and 17 March 1651. First president d'Aligre was clearly taken aback by these allusions to the frondes, and after consulting with the presidents a mortier informed the comte de Pons that because the precedents cited had occurred 'in times of trouble' they were not acceptable. He therefore refused to put their request before the assembled chambers. It was a wise decision because it is easy to imagine the enthusiasm with which the parti janseniste and magistrates such as Michau de Montblin and Nouveau de Chennevieres would have greeted this expression of princely solidarity. This incident reveals much about the political situation in June 1770. Armed and encouraged by lawyers such as La Monnoye and Le Paige, the princes of the blood were clearly prepared to make common cause with the Parlement, and there is no doubt that many magistrates would have welcomed their support. Thus well before the exile of January 1771, the conditions existed for widespread opposition to the government of Louis XV. Yet the first president and his senior colleagues had been quick to stifle a gesture which raised the spectre of the frondes. Their moderation, if exploited with tact and sensitivity, was an invaluable resource for the government, but the chancellor proved incapable of harnessing it. Instead, after June 1770, Maupeou did nothing to strengthen the hand of the senior magistrates, and his haughty manner and continual misjudgements gradually drained a vital pool of support. Unaware of the failed initiative of the princes, the Parlement spent six hours discussing the situation on 29 June. 52 As a result 51 52

AN K 699, dos. 7. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 125.


3 31

of these deliberations, it was agreed to prepare a protest against the king's refusal to allow the peers to attend. Further discussion of the broader issue of the lit de justice was, however, deferred until 2 July. Unfortunately, few details survive from this crucial debate. The diarist, Hardy, wrote that the letters patent annulling the procedures against d'Aiguillon were ridiculed.53 One of the most damning criticisms came from the former rapporteur, Pasquier, a long-time ally of the ministry. He described the letters patent as a mixture of 'the most profound ignorance' and 'complete nonsense'. Pasquier had a good point. Maupeou was not a great jurist, and he had added the phrase by 'express command of the king' to the letters patent of 27 June which was unnecessary at a lit de justice.5* Not surprisingly, therefore, the Parlement voted in favour of remonstrances. However, the most dramatic result of the assembly of 2 July was the decision of the magistrates to adopt an arret composed by Michau de Montblin. It stated that because the due d'Aiguillon had not been legally exonerated, he would be excluded from the rights and privileges of the peerage.55 This arret guaranteed that the lit de justice would not end the Brittany affair. With the honour and reputation of d'Aiguillon once more compromised, and the Parlement antagonised, Maupeou was left with the thankless task of restoring calm. The government acted quickly and, on 3 July, the king quashed the arret against d'Aiguillon. Thereafter, Maupeou was faced by the problem of controlling the inevitable reaction against both the events of 27 June and the decision to ban the peers from attending the Parlement's assemblies. His subsequent failure to pacify the situation was the result of his own misjudgements, the tenacious opposition of the Parlement, and the anger of d'Aiguillon, who was outraged by the arret of 2 July. Maupeou was at the mercy of these conflicting circumstances. He could continue trying to appease the Parlement, his policy since taking office, but this would leave him exposed to attacks from d'Aiguillon's powerful faction at court.56 If he had still enjoyed good relations with his old patron, Choiseul, such an option would have been 53 54 55 56

BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 162. As La Monnoye quickly spotted, AN K 699, dos. 7. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 126-7, published the text of the arret of 2 July. The importance of d'Aiguillon's credit at Versailles has been stressed by Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771', pp. 299-305.


feasible, but the two men were already enemies. Thus, by July 1770, the chancellor was gradually being drawn into a tactical alliance with d'Aiguillon. While Maupeou was faced with these awkward decisions, the Parisian judges prepared their critique of government policy. Louis XV received their representations on 10 July and heard a thorough condemnation of the principles behind the letters patent of 27 June. 57 According to the Parlement, they were 'an act of absolute authority' which substituted 'arbitrariness for justice'. The judges also claimed that their investigations revealed the signs of 'grave and multiple proofs of several crimes' committed by d'Aiguillon. These were the principal points raised by the magistrates against royal policy after June 1770. Although their anger was understandable, there was little likelihood of the crown withdrawing its letters patent. In response to the representations of 10 July, Louis XV defended both the letters and the right of d'Aiguillon to enjoy his privileges as a peer.58 Having failed to influence the king with its protest, the judges attacked on a second front by raising the related issue of the government's refusal to allow the peers to attend their assemblies. It was a predictable step, thoroughly consistent with their behaviour during the earlier crises of 1756 and 1766. As a result, the Parlement twice petitioned the king about the alleged infringement of its right to summon the peers.59 A third area of government policy selected by the parlementaires for rebuke was the treatment of the Parlement of Rennes. Despite the transfer of the case against d'Aiguillon to Paris, the province had never been pacified and the Breton magistrates continued to demand the release of the exiled La Chalotais. Angered by what it perceived as insubordination, the government arrested two Breton magistrates as they were leaving an audience with the king on 20 August. Such apparently arbitrary behaviour stirred memories of the events that had started the original Brittany affair, producing further remonstrances from the Parlement of Paris on 2 September.60 The Parisian magistrates had demonstrated considerable per57 58 59 60

Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 128-37. Ibid., p. 137. Ibid., pp. 139-46. Ibid., pp. 147-52.


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sistence in their opposition to government policy after June 1770. We should, however, note that their conduct was consistent with that shown during earlier crises, and it was neither radical nor intemperate. Of more interest is the leadership of the Parlement during this period. Predictably, it was Michau de Montblin who proposed the arret excluding d'Aiguillon from the rights of the peerage,61 Clement de Feillet and Gars de Fremainville who persuaded the Parlement to prepare remonstrances on 1 August, and Nouveau de Chennevieres who denounced the imprisonment of the two Breton magistrates on 23 August.62 These were the same magistrates who had hounded the government about its policy in Brittany since 1766. By agreeing to the trial of d'Aiguillon, the ministry had provided its enemies with a legitimate excuse to intensify their campaign. Nor did the chancellor simply confront the dogged criticisms emanating from the Parlement of Paris. Within days of the lit de justice of 27 June, several provincial courts had joined the fray.63 It was an ominous reminder of earlier crises which had defeated his predecessors. D'Aiguillon and his advisers were bitterly disappointed that they had not escaped from their critics in the sovereign courts. Seeing his hopes of exoneration before the Parlement of Paris dashed, the due began to consider alternative methods of clearing his name. Much thought was given to the idea of convoking an alternative Com des Pairs, independent of the Parlement, to deliver the verdict.64 By attacking the status of the Parlement, d'Aiguillon could hope to extricate himself from an embarrassing situation, but this should not be seen as evidence of more general hostility to the robe.65 The due was simply behaving in a pragmatic fashion, and had the magistrates provided the legal justification he so earnestly desired, then it is unlikely that they would have found a more enthusiastic supporter in the entire kingdom. Instead, d'Aiguillon found himself besieged by the parlements, and those who had already suffered at their hands, or feared they might do so, rallied to his cause. The secretary of state, Bertin, who 61 62 63

64 65

BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 172. BN NAF 4386, fols. 34, 38, and AAE Ms Fr 1366, fols. 223-5. The Parlements of Bordeaux, Dijon, Metz, and Rennes were by far the most troublesome. AN BB30 i - n . This is the interpretation of Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771'.


had been ousted from the office of controleur general after tenacious parlementaire resistance, backed the due when he pleaded with the king to end his trial.66 Support was also forthcoming from Calonne, a fellow architect of government policy in Brittany during 1766. He assisted the due by writing a series of memoranda, including an attempt to prove that the arret of 2 July was illegal and that a coup d'autorite against the Parlement was justified.67 The former first president of the Parlement of Toulouse, Bastard, also offered his advice to d'Aiguillon on legal matters.68 No doubt personal experience provoked sympathy for d'Aiguillon, but these ideas reveal much about the political stance adopted by his faction. Its members feared the parlements, and with good reason. As Alfred Cobban so justly noted, 'under Choiseul it is almost true to say that capitulation to the parlements became official policy'.69 If d'Aiguillon were tried and convicted, or driven permanently from public office, other careers would be jeopardised. In the case of Calonne, and of those who had served in Brittany, there was even the danger that they too would be indicted. The idea was raised in the Parlement of Paris and then dropped, but the provincial courts were less restrained, and that of Metz condemned the conduct of Jacques de Flesselles, the former intendant of Brittany.70 He wrote to d'Aiguillon in August 1770 begging for help before the other parlements had time to follow suit.71 Unfortunately for Flesselles, Metz fell within the ministerial department of Choiseul, and he needed the protection of d'Aiguillon to persuade the chancellor to act. It is one more instance of the mistrust felt towards the relationship between Choiseul and the parlements. As one d'Aiguillon supporter declared, in a slightly different context, he had 'more faith in the word of his lackey than that of M. de Choiseul'.72 For these men, d'Aiguillon offered the only opportunity to unseat Choiseul and his supporters in the ministry, and to replace them with a government that would no longer abandon its servants at the first hint of trouble from the parlements. 66 67 68 69 70 71 72

AN BB30 1, dos. 4, d'Aiguillon to Louis XV, June 1770. Ibid., dos. 11. AN BB30 11, dos. 10, Bastard to d'Aiguillon, 22 July 1770. Cobban, 'The parlements of France', p. 75. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 125-6. AN BB30 11, dos. H, Flesselles to d'Aiguillon, 24 August 1770. Le Moy, Le XVIIIe siecle breton, pp. 96-7, Robien to Coniac, 10 March 1766.


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As the affair rumbled on without any sign of the magistrates accepting the verdict of 27 June, Maupeou was obliged to adopt firm measures. The first clear sign that he was prepared to use force came on 20 August with the arrest of the two Breton magistrates. As a man with vast experience of the parlements, the chancellor must have known that such a policy would provoke further opposition, but he did nothing to allay parlementaire misgivings. Confirmation of his intentions was provided in the most decisive fashion on 3 September. In a ceremony strongly reminiscent of the seance de la flagellation of March 1766, the king descended on the Parlement without warning to issue a stunning rebuke.73 Louis XV ordered that the details of d'Aiguillon's trial be struck from the registers of the court. What was most revealing about the changed political atmosphere was the tone of the speech read by the chancellor. He informed the judges that the two deputies from Rennes had been arrested because the king was offended by their conduct, and he warned 'that those who act like them will feel the effects of his indignation5. Perhaps in anticipation of concerted resistance to the ceremony, Maupeou added that the king would regard 'all correspondence with the other parlements as a criminal confederation against his authority5. These biting phrases were typical of Maupeou, and they left no doubt that he was prepared to use every ounce of his political strength to achieve a victory for the crown. Yet these words also reveal the absence of either the subtlety or vision needed to secure an advantage without being obliged to resort to excessive force. As Miromesnil observed in a letter to Bertin, by attacking the court as a whole he wounded its esprit de corps.74 This left little room for future compromise, and it alienated those who might otherwise have distanced themselves from the partisan stance adopted by individuals like Michau or Nouveau de Chennevieres. It was not easy to predict how the Parlement would react to the events of 3 September, but one of two alternatives was possible. The judges could either meet the challenge posed by Maupeou and adopt an equally extreme stance, or they could ignore the rebuke from the king, as they had done in 1766, and 73 74

Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 153-7. Le Verdier, Miromesnil, V, pp. 270-1, Miromesnil to Bertin, 4 February 1771.


continue to protest. Certainly, the magistrates were incensed by the ceremony, and the lower chambers of enquetes and requites continued to discuss the situation until midnight. In his account of these discussions, Hardy stated that calls had been made 'to arrest the chancellor'.75 There were equally forthright calls for a judicial strike, and Le Paige claimed that Maupeou had laid plans to arrest six supposed ringleaders.76 Rather than fall into what looked suspiciously like a trap, the judges consciously decided to remain calm and follow their ordinary procedure.77 According to Robert de Saint-Vincent, they felt this would be more disconcerting for the chancellor than any extreme measures.78 A committee was appointed to examine the king's reply, and on the basis of its conclusions the court postponed further discussion until its return from the judicial vacations on 3 December. This resort to standard procedure did not imply that the Parlement had bowed to the authority of the crown. The text of the arrete accused Maupeou of a 'premeditated project to change the form of government'. It was clear that the magistrates expected the battle to recommence in December. By refusing to make a rash reply to Maupeou's gambit, the Parlement offered him time to reconsider his position. Some within the court were hoping for negotiations to prevent a further escalation of the crisis.79 Others, notably Gars de Fremainville and president Lamoignon, were working on a proposed denunciation of the chancellor.80 Maupeou was undoubtedly aware of these divisions, but his clumsy strategy prevented him from capitalising upon them. Throughout the autumn vacations he continued to mutter thinly veiled threats against the Parlement, and both Hardy and Le Paige correctly predicted the promulgation of an edict of discipline.81 That edict, written by Terray,82 75 76 77 78 79

80

81 82

BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 182. BPR Collection Le Paige 564, fols. 35-6. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 157-8. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 493-4. BN Ms Fr 13733, f°l- I9~2O> Regnaud, 'Histoire des evenements', and Lebrun, Opinions, PP. 34-5This was reported by Augeard, Memoires secrets, p. 34, who was close to Lamoignon at the time. BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fols. 183, 187 and BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fol. 8. According to Lebrun, Opinions, p. 34.


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was delivered to the gens du roi on 28 November and presented to the assembled chambers on 3 December. By December 1770, Maupeou had thus embarked upon a full-scale confrontation with the Parlement. Doyle has interpreted his action as a cunning means of attacking Choiseul, whose sympathy for the judges made him the ideal scapegoat for their continuing resistance.83 Maupeou was an opportunist and he certainly employed that weapon in his struggle with the due. He was not, however, a totally free agent, and the influence of d'Aiguillon was a crucial factor in his thinking. With Mme du Barry seemingly a permanent fixture at court, the rise of her favourite to ministerial office was only a matter of time. In order to avoid being damned by the divots, it was vital to appear firm in his dealings with the parlements and he duly obliged. Not that the chancellor wanted to help fulfil d'Aiguillon's ambitions, but the reaction of the Parlement further reduced his scope for independent action. Many in the court believed he was in league with d'Aiguillon, while others profited from the chancellor's discomfiture to settle old scores. Mistrust, misunderstanding, and the overly aggressive tactics employed by Maupeou ensured that the crisis of the winter of 1770-1 would not end in compromise. IV

For all the subsequent furore, Maupeou's edict of discipline was surprisingly brief, and was composed of only three short articles.84 In the future all communication between parlements in the name of the union des classes was proscribed, as was the irregular suspension of ordinary judicial service. The edict also forbade protests or attempts to prevent the execution of laws registered at a lit de justice or by royal command. However, it was the opening preamble which most offended the magistrates. The edict accused them of a 'spirit of system as doubtful in its principles as it is bold in its ventures', and it condemned some of the worst excesses committed by the sovereign courts over the previous twenty years. Included amongst the targets for this royal reprimand 83 84

Doyle, 'The parlements of France', pp. 418-22. F. A . I s a m b e r t , Recueil general des anciennes lois frangaises, depuis Van 420 jusqu'a la revolution de iy8g (29 vols., Paris, 1821-33), XXII, pp. 501-9.


were the theory of a union des classes and the frequent cessations of judicial service. With a keen eye for the sensibilities of the judges, Maupeou knew how to wound and it was not without reason that contemporaries saw the edict as deliberately provocative.85 In his account of the debate of 3 December, Hardy recorded the vehemence with which the magistrates denounced the chancellor.86 At the end of its deliberations, the Parlement voted unanimously in favour of an immediate protest, which was delivered to Louis XV that evening.87 Perhaps in response to the gravity of the situation, the magistrates offered a brief justification of their historic role as defenders of royal authority. The court was clearly united in its opposition to the edict, although the protest had been drafted by six commissioners, including four members of the usually moderate grand'chambre, most of whom were antagonistic towards either Maupeou or d'Aiguillon.88 Their names bear repetition: Saint-Fargeau; d'Ormesson; Pasquier; Gars de Fremainville; d'Hocquart; and Michau de Montblin. Four of those magistrates are already familiar to us, and their continuing opposition to the government was predictable. The inclusion of Pasquier and d'Ormesson, two of the most distinguished judges in the court, was by comparison surprising. Pasquier had, however, been one of the most outspoken critics of the lit de justice of 27 June, and only d'Ormesson was in any sense impartial. As on many previous occasions, the conduct of the Parlement was being dictated by those with a personal, or partisan, axe to grind and the chancellor did nothing to encourage those of a more peaceful disposition. Louis XV refused to alter his policy and ordered the Parlement to register the edict immediately. Realistically, there was little chance of this happening, and the magistrates drafted further representations on 4 December.89 The more aggressive tone of this second protest made it clear that the Parlement would not register the edict voluntarily, and Maupeou decided to hold a lit de justice 85

86 87 88 89

A memorandum written by Le Paige provides an excellent example of this. BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fol. 20. BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fols. 189-90. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 159-61. Hardy, BN Ms Fr 668o, II, fol. 190. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 161-2.


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on 7 December. In arriving at this decision, he must have reflected upon the unhappy precedent of December 1756 when a similar policy had failed, forcing his own father to retire. On that occasion, the majority had resigned rather than accept a disciplinary edict registered in a lit de justice. It is conceivable that Maupeou was hoping for a similar outcome in 1770. At the ceremony of 7 December, he delivered a skilful speech in which he declared that the edict contained 'the true principles' of the monarchy.90 He also asked, rather mischievously, whether the Parlement's refusal to register the law was part of its 'attachment to new ideas'. Precisely what he hoped to achieve is not clear, but a number of possibilities presented themselves. The most pleasurable for the chancellor, and the least likely, was for the Parlement to accept his edict and fall silent. At the other extreme was the mass resignation of the entire Parlement. The court came within a hair's breadth of such a decision because in the assembly that followed the doyen urged his colleagues to resign, and his words were greeted by cries of omnes.91 Only an impassioned speech by Pasquier urging caution and restraint prevented a repetition of the events of December 1756. Instead, the Parlement deferred its deliberations to allow time for reflection. After a debate held on 10 December, the judges adopted a protest which appealed to the king to restore 'its honour and the constitution of the state which the edict has attacked, and to return its functions which are as important for his sacred person as for the state.'92 Until the king agreed to their request, the magistrates vowed to remain assembled, thus suspending normal judicial service. The court had, therefore, met the challenge posed by the chancellor and had raised the political stakes further. Moreover, the decision to hold a judicial strike was considerably more astute than a mass resignation. Maupeou was now faced with the awkward task of defending an edict which had caused the very problem it was intended to prevent. If he had hoped to divide the court, he had, for the moment, failed and the cycle of protests continued. It was not without difficulty that the first president, d'Aligre, 90 91

92

Ibid., pp. 163-5. Lebrun, Opinions, p. 37, claimed that he wrote the chancellor's speech. Both Hardy, BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 194, and d'Albertas, BN, NAF 4386, fols. 6 3 4, contain details of the events examined below. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 170.


attempted to deliver the Parlement's representations?2" Although he was finally received on 12 December, d'Aligre was unable to persuade the king to change his policy. Instead, Louis ordered the court to return to its duties. The magistrates ignored his instructions and ordered a further protest at their assembly the next day. Stalemate had been reached. The judges remained on strike and continued to petition for the repeal of the edict; Louis XV on the other hand, refused to receive their complaints until normal judicial service was resumed. There was little hope of the Parlement backing down, and its sense of determination was captured in a speech by Pasquier on 20 December. He declared: I believe that judges covered with ignominy can no longer fulfil with dignity the honourable functions of the magistrature. The imputations made against them by the edict leave them with no alternative but to propose to the king that he withdraw his edict . . . , or dispose of their heads. It is with these sentiments that I have always lived and am ready to descend into the grave.94 With the Parlement so steadfast, the future development of the crisis depended upon events at Versailles where the ministerial power struggle was about to reach a climax.

While Maupeou was digging himself into an ever deeper hole in his bid to silence the Parlement, the disputes at Versailles continued to simmer. Choiseul had deliberately adopted a low profile during the trial of d'Aiguillon, presumably in order to avoid being accused of profiting from the misfortunes of his adversary.95 He had good reason to be cheerful because in May 1770, his diplomacy consolidated the Austrian alliance with the marriage of the young dauphin to Marie-Antoinette, daughter of the Empress Maria-Theresa. Choiseul was seen as the architect and guarantor of the alliance and of the pacte de famille with Madrid, all of 93 94 95

Ibid., pp. 170-3. BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fol. 32. BEWSRO 423/325-6, 14 May and 5 June 1770, and Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 139-96.


341 96

which appeared to make his position unassailable. Another bonus for Choiseul was the conquest of Corsica, completed in 1769, which helped to compensate for the defeats of the Seven Years War. Finally, the growing tension between England and Spain over the disputed Falkland Islands thrust diplomatic and military affairs back towards the centre stage. Should war occur, the knowledge and experience of Choiseul would once again become invaluable. There were, however, some clouds on his horizon, most of them caused by the feud between his sister and Mme du Barry. After the presentation of Mme de Barry, the spurned duchesse de Gramont launched something of a female fronde, using public snubs and clandestine verse to humiliate the favourite and anger the king.97 Whether out of fraternal solidarity, or sympathy with her objectives, Choiseul did nothing to stop her excesses. It was undoubtedly a mistake. By refusing to live on civil terms with the mistress, the due and his entourage created an unnecessary and powerful enemy. After the lit de justice of 27 June, the situation became more worrying for the minister, especially as the resistance of the parlements intensified. On account of his behaviour in previous crises, he was generally believed to be sympathetic to the magistrates, and many in the court looked to him as a possible ally.98 Willingly or not, he was a source of inspiration and comfort for the parlementaire opposition, and both Maupeou and d'Aiguillon did their best to convince the king that Choiseul encouraged their disobedience. As during the earlier Jesuit affair, rumours and accusations of conspiracies filled the air. D'Aiguillon employed spies in the Parlement,99 and both his uncle, the due de La Vrilliere,100 and Maupeou sought in vain to find definitive proof of a plot.101 Their suspicions fell upon Gars de Fremainville, d'Hocquart, Michau de Montblin, and Nouveau de Chennevieres. 96

97 98

99 100 101

For comments on the effect of the marriage and the importance of Choiseul's diplomatic reputation, see: Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 30-1, and Vatel, Mme du Barry, I, pp. 331-59. Maugras, Le due et la duchesse de Choiseul, pp. 381-99. For observations on the link between the Parlement and the due in 1770, see: Regnaud, 'Histoire des evenements', BN Ms Fr 13733, ^ s - 39~4°5 Moreau, Mes souvenirs, I, p. 238; and Montbarey, Memoires, II, pp. 48-9. AN BB30 i, dos. 16. The comte de Saint-Florentin had been created due de La Vrilliere in 1770. BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fol. 9. He claimed to have been informed of events by Nouveau de Chennevieres, one of the men accused of conspiring with Choiseul.


If nothing else the choice of these magistrates reveals that the crown had a very accurate picture of its principal opponents, but were these 'messieurs de Choiseul' in league with the minister? The answer is probably no, and it has been suggested that Maupeou dredged up evidence of ChoiseuPs legitimate involvement with the Parlement and used it maliciously in a very different context.102 However, if they were not working directly for the due, these same magistrates were unquestionably trying to ruin d'Aiguillon, which amounted to the same thing. They were all linked to Mme de Froulay, whose house in the rue du Bac was used as a clearing house by supporters of La Chalotais, and it was almost certainly from this source that they received the material from Brittany to carry out their designs.103 While we cannot be sure that Choiseul entered into direct communication with these magistrates, Robert de Saint-Vincent's testimony that he was approached by someone close to the due in order to denounce d'Aiguillon suggests that his entourage may have acted for him.104 It has even been claimed that Choiseul's sister, duchesse de Gramont, spent the autumn of 1770 travelling in the provinces with the aim of raising the other Parlements, notably those of Bordeaux and Toulouse, against d'Aiguillon.105 Given her fiery personality anything was possible, and her actions caused more than one contemporary observer to blame her for Choiseul's disgrace.106 However, the enthusiasm for conspiracy theories can sometimes cause more subtle signals to go unnoticed, and an alert parlementaire would not have needed to meet Choiseul in order to be aware of his support. The seance of 3 September was agreed to the night before in council with Choiseul absent.107 As Maupeou fulminated against the Parlement's conduct, the due went hunting, distancing himself in more than just a literal sense from government policy. As the crisis intensified with the publication of the edict of discipline, Choiseul did nothing to alter the public perception that he was favourable to the Parlement. Hardy, who fol102 103 104 105 106 107

This has been suggested by Calmettes in Choiseul, Memoires, p. 271. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 333-4. Ibid., p. 468. Vatel, Mme du Barry, I, p. 312. Montbarey, Memoires, II, pp. 1-3, 8, 328, 361. Ibid, p. 428.


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lowed the rumours and moods of the capital closely, recorded that the chancellor received the support of La Vrilliere, Bertin, and Terray, and that Choiseul was not even consulted about the decision to hold a lit de justice } m Thus, both the due and the parlementaires were confronted by the same enemy in December 1770 and they were making common cause without ever needing to consult one another.109 Louis XV could hardly have been surprised when either Maupeou or d'Aiguillon accused his minister of concerting with the parlementaires because these arguments had been in circulation for at least a decade. Nevertheless, the bitter recriminations of the due's opponents and his own frustration with the judicial opposition must have weighed on the mind of the king as he observed the struggles around him. A deep aversion to making decisions would probably have ensured that Louis tolerated these quarrels, as he had done those between Machault and d'Argenson, were it not for the threat of war. By December 1770 the Falklands crisis was at its height, and had France shown herself to be willing, her ally Spain was ready to attack the English.110 The idea of a war of revenge against England had dominated Choiseul's diplomacy since 1763, and if hostilities broke out the political situation would have been transformed. The crown was characteristically starved of funds and in order to raise the necessary revenue cooperation with the parlementaires would be essential. In such circumstances, the edict of discipline would probably have been abandoned and Maupeou and d'Aiguillon along with it. Louis XV dreaded the prospect of a new conflict, and it was this factor more than anything else which determined his subsequent actions. Clearly Maupeou and d'Aiguillon were prepared to accuse Choiseul of almost anything in order to unseat him, and the allegation of warmongering was added to an already long list of grievances. Harried on several fronts simultaneously, Louis eventually capitulated and on 24 December Choiseul was exiled, together with his cousin, Praslin. 108 109

110

BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 194. Senac de Meilhan, Des principes et des causes de la revolution en France (Paris, 1862), pp. 22-3, made the sensible point that the link between Choiseul and the parlements was exaggerated after the exile of the judges in January 1771. For a discussion of the Falklands crisis, see: Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou^ pp. 1 55-95-


The due des Cars, who spent the day hunting with the king, wrote that Louis was visibly shaken by the need to dismiss such a trusted servant and scarcely spoke to those with whom he was usually on the most familiar terms.111 What had forced the king to take such an unpalatable decision was the belief that Choiseul was either preparing for war or not doing enough to avoid it. Louis had good reason to feel uneasy because Choiseul played his diplomatic cards close to his chest, and his secretive nature gave rise to suspicion. However, the diplomatic correspondence of the due makes it clear that he was not personally in favour of war and was working against it.112 He could, however, be criticised for not stating the French position firmly enough and for giving the impression that the ultimate decision rested with Madrid.113 While this attitude may have suited his own purposes, it certainly did not tally with the peaceful intentions of his sovereign. Moreover by not being sufficiently explicit, Choiseul allowed a fatal hint of doubt to enter the mind of Louis XV, and he was lost.114 Thereafter Louis displayed a characteristic burst of energy as he personally took over the direction of foreign policy. In the six months that followed, he used his own authority both to prevent war, and to reassure his allies that the basic tenets of his diplomatic policy remained unchanged. VI

As Choiseul took the carriage bound for exile, the political world of Versailles and Paris erupted. Many of his aristocratic friends and relatives began to ape English manners by declaring themselves to be in 'opposition',115 while the more tremulous magistrates awaited a similar fate which some blamed on a Jesuit plot.116 However, as the first signs of an imminent fronde bubbled 111

112

113 114

115

116

Due des Cars, Memoires du due des Cars. Colonel du regiment de dragons-artois, brigadier de cavalerie, premier maitre de Vhotel du roi (2 vols., Paris, 1890), I, pp. 108-9. The correspondence between Choiseul and Ossun, AAE CP Espagne 560-3, JulyDecember, and between Choiseul and Frances, AAE CP Angleterre 492-4, AugustDecember 1770, makes this clear. See: AAE CP Espagne 561, fol. 148, Choiseul to Ossun, 5 November 1770. According to baron de Besenval, Memoires, II, pp. 13-21, Louis was reading Choiseul's diplomatic despatches in order to find out what was going on. Deffand, Lettres, II, pp. 248-9. The comments of Senac de Meilhan, Le gouvernement, p. 349, are also valuable. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, p. 498.


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to the surface, the Palais de Justice witnessed a frenzy of negotiations as different factions sought to win political credit by arranging a compromise. The circle around the due d'Orleans, which included president de Lamoignon and Malesherbes, first president of the Cour des Aides, produced projects,117 but it was Terray and the prince de Conde who took up the running.118 T h e controleur general had once been chef du conseil to the prince,

and the two were not necessarily working on behalf of Maupeou. However, the chancellor had everything to gain from a settlement, and he was almost certainly involved behind the scenes. Terray produced a workable plan and Le Paige, who was privy to these developments, recorded that the intention was for the king to issue lettres de jussion ordering the magistrates to resume their duties.119 The Parlement would register these letters with an arrete agreed in advance by the king, after which the judges would return to their chambers and the edict of discipline would be suspended. As a means of resolving the crisis, the plan had much to commend it; similar tactics had been successfully employed to end the crises over disciplinary edicts in both 1733 and 1757. Initially, the attempt at reconciliation progressed smoothly, and on 4 January 1771 conciliatory lettres de jussion were delivered to the court.120 Success seemed assured when on 7 January the magistrates voted by fifty-eight votes to fifty-three in favour of ending their protest. Admittedly, the arrete which announced their resolution was boldly phrased, and the Parlement announced 'that it would never recognise as a law of state an edict which . . . damages the ancient maxims and laws of the kingdom.5121 Yet the arguments of Gars de Fremainville, who wanted to continue the judicial strike, had been defeated,122 and Le Paige claimed that Maupeou knew the contents of the arrete before the assembly took place.123 Terray was therefore confident enough to 17

Augeard, Memoires secrets, pp. 38, 49, who was close to Lamoignon at the time, noted the existence of these plans. 18 See Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 196—206, and Doyle, 'The parlements of France', pp. 422-3, for two different interpretations of this sudden change in Maupeou's policy. 19 BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fols. 27-8. 120 Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 174. 21 Ibid., p. 175. '"" BN, NAF 16415, fols. 5-6. BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fols. 27-8.


assure first president d'Aligre that conciliation was certain. If the chancellor and, more importantly, the king were prepared to abandon the edict of 28 November, the crisis would be over. It seems remarkable that these hopes were dashed by Louis XV's criticisms delivered on 13 January. He declared: 'my Parlement in retaking its ordinary service has returned to its duty; it should never have strayed. Its arrete contains maxims contrary to the principles established by my edict, which I will always maintain.'124 Louis XV was not the author of these lines and it was claimed that he had personally approved of the planned settlement.125 Nor was it a ruse employed by the chancellor to prevent the prince de Conde from becoming 'another ChoiseuP.126 Maupeou persuaded Louis XV to deliver an uncompromising rebuke to the Parlement, and the reasons behind his action explain much about the whole affair. The chancellor had once again been drawn into a hardline policy towards the magistrates because of the influence of d'Aiguillon and the devot faction. Peace with the Parlement was ultimately dependent on their agreement, and that was not forthcoming. D'Aiguillon had everything to gain from the fall of Choiseul, whom he replaced in June 1771, but he still had every reason to fear the parlements. A compromise between the chancellor and the magistrates might have opened the way for renewed attacks against his conduct in Brittany, and have barred the way to high office. When the Parlement resumed its service in a seemingly unrepentant mood, it seemed as if his worst fears might be realised. Suspicion naturally fell on the chancellor who was thought, not without reason, to be working against the due}21 As it became clear that there was a serious chance of a reconciliation with the Parlement, the court, now dominated by the parti devot, turned against the chancellor. Le Paige wrote that Maupeou was 'so badly scalded' by Mme du Barry that he feared disgrace, and he was forced to write the uncompromising 124 125 126 127

Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 176. BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fols. 27-8. This was the theory of Doyle, 'The parlements of France', pp. 422-3. Le Paige, BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fol. 28, noted that rumours were circulating to the effect that Maupeou was seeking to prevent the rise of d'Aiguillon. Similar concerns were voiced by a number of the due's supporters. AN BB30 1, dos. 13 and BB30 9.


347

128

royal response of 13 January. When the first president pleaded with him to alter the king's speech, Maupeou replied: 'what do you want d'Aligre, my word, I prefer that those b[uggers?] . . . are exiled than me.' Le Paige added that 'all this is the work and the plan of M. d'Aiguillon, the chancellor is only the instrument.' Such was the problem facing Maupeou in January 1771. His position at court would be jeopardised if he risked the wrath of Mme du Barry and d'Aiguillon and, just as after the lit de justice of June 1770, he decided that his political survival depended upon adopting a hard line against the magistrates. As d'Aligre had feared, news of the royal response of 13 January enraged the judges and, at their next assembly two days later, they voted unanimously to renew their judicial strike.129 Hardy claimed that those who had voted to end their protest only a week before believed 'they had been the dupes of a false negotiation' inspiring them with 'more ardour than they had before'.130 Once more the initiative passed to the crown's most relentless critics, and Robert de Saint-Vincent and Nouveau de Chennevieres proposed that a denunciation of the chancellor be taken directly to the king.131 Hopes for a reconciliation were fading fast. Peace was only possible if one side was prepared to swallow its pride and accept defeat, and with Maupeou trapped in d'Aiguillon's deadly embrace only the magistrates could realistically do so. By remaining implacably opposed to the implementation of the edict of 28 November, the judges made their subsequent exile inevitable. There is no single satisfactory explanation for the conduct of the Parlement in January 1771. It is, however, important to stress that between June 1770 and their exile, the magistrates had been outraged by a government whose policy was both contradictory and provocative. The behaviour of the Parlement was, therefore, consistent with that in earlier crises and with its traditional defence of its privileges and jurisdiction. Yet, its actions were also shaped by less orthodox concerns. Throughout 128

129 130 131

BPR Collection Le Paige 560, fol. 28. The work of Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771', pp. 454-5, should also be consulted. BN, NAF 16415, fol. 7, and Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 176. BN Ms Fr 6680, II, fol. 199. Robert de Saint-Vincent, Memoires, pp. 501-8.


the crisis, the court was led by those magistrates such as Michau de Montblin and Nouveau de Chennevieres, who had long been enemies of government policy in Brittany and of d'Aiguillon in particular. They were joined by many senior men from the grand'chambre, like Lamoignon, Saint-Fargeau, and Pasquier, who, rather than urging caution, were pursuing a private feud with the chancellor. Finally, the remnants of the parti janseniste were continuing to press Maupeou on the classic, if thoroughly spurious grounds, that he was acting as a tool of the Jesuits. The Parlement was not, therefore, entirely free from responsibility for allowing a political dispute to become a trial of strength between itself and the chancellor. After the judges had suspended their normal duties on 13 January, it proved impossible to break the deadlock. Despite three separate sets of lettres de jussion, each one more menacing than its predecessor, the magistrates refused to be coerced into resuming their functions.132 Maupeou, unsure of how to act, turned to d'Aiguillon for assistance.133 In his account of these events, Mansergh credits d'Aiguillon with the responsibility for the policy which led directly to the exile of the Parlement, and additional evidence can be cited to support his theory. One interesting memorandum written on 18 January shows clearly that his supporters were using the work of the royal apologist Jacob-Nicolas Moreau to prepare a final coup against the Parlement.134 According to Mansergh, d'Aiguillon forwarded a scheme, written by Moreau, that was designed to end the crisis.135 It outlined a project for a royal seance at which the king would order 'that every magistrate be called by his name' and asked to declare 'by yes, or by no, . . . if he accepts the edict'. It was a modified version of this plan which was put into operation on the night of 19-20 January 1771. Each magistrate was awakened by two musketeers and asked to give a straightforward answer of 'yes' or 'no' to the question of whether he would resume his duties suspended since the assembly of 13 January. The aim was to drive a wedge between the moderates and the 132 133 134

135

Flammermont, Remontrances, III, pp. 176-82. Mansergh, 'The revolution of 1771% pp. 461-5. AN BB30 9. The document entitled, 'Principes de conduite avec les parlements', is an amended version of the paper written by Moreau in 1760. Mansergh, T h e revolution of 1771% pp. 461-5.


349

implacable opponents of the crown. There is no doubt that such divisions existed.136 According to the president a mortier, d'Ormesson, the first president had promised Maupeou that between fifty and sixty magistrates would be prepared to side with the crown, providing the basis for a reformed Parlement of Paris. This figure approximately matches the fifty-eight votes cast in favour of a resumption of judicial service on 7 January. Superficially, therefore, the plan could be interpreted as a reasonable method of breaking the hitherto united ranks of the court. In reality, it was nothing short of hare-brained. By waking the most distinguished magistrates in the kingdom before dawn on Sunday morning, and then forcing them at bayonet point to sign 'yes' or 'no' to such a question, it seemed as if the hour of despotism had finally struck. Nor did the results obtained reflect the genuine opinions of the individuals concerned. One of the regiments employed dealt more harshly with their charges than the other, and while some judges responded with displays of courage others were cowed into submission. Amongst the thirtynine men who replied 'yes' were Michau de Montblin and SaintFargeau, which clearly demonstrated the futility of the exercise. Maupeou had been foolish to attempt such a plan, but his continual vacillation between violent denunciations and botched negotiations had robbed him of any credibility with the magistrates. His subsequent action implied that he was conscious that his plan had miscarried. There was no attempt to separate those who had replied 'no' from their colleagues, and as daylight restored the courage of the waverers any hope of forming a rump Parlement evaporated. Unimpeded by the chancellor, the Parlement assembled at 3 p.m. and those judges who had agreed to resume their duties quickly recanted. The defiant spirit of the meeting was captured in the speech of the doyen, who declared that 'he had received fourteen lettres de cachet; one more did not frighten him'.137 Once more united, the Parlement voted in favour of an arrete which renewed its refusal to serve while the edict of 28 November remained in effect. Maupeou had served 136

137

See the comments of: president d'Ormesson, AN 144 AP 116, fols. 1-5; Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 34-5; and of the avocat, Regnaud, BN Ms Fr 13733, ^ s - 19-20. Flammermont, Remontrances, III, p. 182.


in the Parlement for over thirty years, and the fact that not even one magistrate was prepared to follow him was a crushing indictment of his conduct over the previous twelve months. As he later admitted in his compte rendu sent to Louis XVI, he had been caught in a tempest.138 What he failed to mention was that his own misjudgements had contributed to the ferocity of the storm. Having failed to divide the judges, Maupeou was forced to carry out his threat to punish their insubordination. On the night of 20-21 January, the magistrates, with the exception of the thirty-nine who had initially expressed a willingness to serve, received lettres de cachet exiling them to various towns throughout the kingdom. They also received lettres de cachet confiscating their offices to the profit of the king, a measure which even those sympathetic to the chancellor considered arbitrary.139 It was a last desperate attempt to preserve a group of magistrates on which to build a new court, and it failed abysmally. Rather than allow themselves to be used by the chancellor, the thirty-nine were content to appeal for the return of their colleagues and await their fate. It was only a brief delay, and that evening they were also exiled. If the magistrates believed that exile in 1771 would follow the pattern of others in 1720 or 1753-4, they were mistaken. Unlike his predecessors, Maupeou was not afraid to act decisively once he had crossed his Rubicon. In order to survive in power, he had to create a functioning judicial system, and he spared no effort to achieve that end. Maupeou was not a man with a reforming vision; he was an opportunist who acted on a day-today basis, but what he did possess was drive and resilience. He once declared to Lebrun, 'I am not a [chancellor] HopitaP, but 'I would have enough tenacity to follow a plan that I had hope of bringing to a conclusion'.140 That strength allowed Maupeou to achieve what none of his predecessors had thought possible, not just the exile of the Parlement of Paris, but the creation of a reformed, working replacement. The monarchy would never be the same again. 138 139 140

BN Ms Fr 6579, fol. 2 Egret, g , L'opposition pp pparlementaire, pp. 178-9, 187-8. Lebrun, Opinions, p. 19.


351

VII

The exile of the Parlement of Paris was the result of a crisis which had evolved out of the Brittany affair and ministerial and factional intrigue at Versailles. During the 1760s, the government under Choiseul frequently abandoned provincial commandants, intendants, senior judicial officers, and members of the royal council to the parlements. This policy of appeasement was designed to buy acquiescence in the pressing circumstances of war and financial weakness. Not unnaturally, those who fell foul of the magistrates in these circumstances detested not only Choiseul but also the institutions seemingly responsible for their plight. The Brittany affair was the most blatant example of this problem, and by allowing the trial of the due d'Aiguillon the chancellor made the first of a series of fatal errors. The polarised state of the court, and the influence of Mme du Barry and the divots trapped him into supporting d'Aiguillon. In order to pacify the situation, the chancellor needed to achieve at least a symbolic victory over the Parlement. There was certainly a moderate strand of opinion within the court, and a more talented statesman than Maupeou could probably have turned that to his advantage. Instead, the chancellor bullied and blustered his way into ever deeper trouble, alienating those judges who were naturally loyal to the crown. Not unnaturally, it was those with a grudge against Maupeou or d'Aiguillon, plus the intransigent core of the parti janseniste and the circle around Michau de Montblin, which profited from the breakdown of relations. Opportunities for compromise were thus spurned, and men who in normal circumstances would have been expected to counsel restraint were either silent or in the camp of the militants. When the crisis broke in June 1770, it rapidly acquired a momentum of its own and, even after more than 200 years, it is difficult to see how it could have been stopped.

CHAPTER

12

Conclusion: Maupeou and beyond

Between January and April 1771, Maupeou worked hard to replace the exiled Parlement of Paris. As an interim measure, the conseillers d'etat and maitres des requites of the king's council were

drafted to replace the disgraced court. However, rather than create a second version of the Chambre Royale that had failed so abysmally during the exile of 1753-4, the chancellor embarked upon an ambitious plan of reform.1 Aided by, among others, Bourgeois de Boynes, Moreau, Bastard, and Lebrun, he prepared to form a completely new Parlement. In February 1771, the huge jurisdiction of the old Parlement was sharply reduced, with new courts of appeal, or Conseils Superieurs, established in Arras, Blois, Chalonssur-Marne, Clermond-Ferrand, Lyon, and Poitiers. More remarkable was the daring and imaginative decision to abolish venality in these institutions and the reformed Parlement itself. The judges were to be appointed by the king to immovable, ennobling, but non-hereditary offices. Equally impressive was the announcement that in future justice was to be freely dispensed, ending the much criticised practice of Spices that had done so much to bring the legal system into contempt. The judicial salary was henceforth to be paid wholly in the form of a gage, dependent upon the assiduity with which the incumbent fulfilled his duties. The new Parlement inherited the powers of registration and remonstrance of its predecessor, although under the restrictions contained in the disputed edict of December 1770. Remonstrances were, therefore, to be presented within two weeks of the court receiving a new law, and they could be repeated but not published, if required. 1

Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, remains the essential treatment of this subject. In addition, the work of Villers, Uorganisation du parlement de Paris et des conseils superieurs,

and Egret, Uopposition parlementaire, pp. 182-228, should also be consulted.

352


353

Producing attractive reform programmes had never been a problem for the government of Louis XV; putting them into practice was a completely different matter. With the magistrates exiled, and the lower courts and lawyers certain to boycott any new institution out of either fear or solidarity, the chancellor's task was daunting. It was in these desperate circumstances that Maupeou revealed a resourceful and ruthless spirit which has provided the foundation of his reputation ever since. In order to create an effective, working replacement for the Parlement, he pruned its membership from approximately one hundred and seventy judges in 1770 to just seventy-five, consisting of seven presidents and sixty-eight councillors, of whom fifteen were clerics, plus the gens du roi. There is no doubt that Maupeou would have preferred to fill these places with some of the more moderate members of the old Parlement, but his own mismanagement had done much to make this impossible. Instead, he was obliged to employ drastic measures by abolishing both the Grand Conseil and the Com des Aides with the aim of substituting their members for the exiles. Despite the tactics of intimidation employed by the chancellor, the displaced judges, many of whom had relatives amongst the disgraced magistrates, were not easily coerced. It was Malesherbes, first president of the Com des Aides, who proved to be one of the chancellor's most formidable critics, and he had to be exiled along with several of his colleagues. Maupeou was left with twenty-three members of the Grand Conseil and eight from the Com des Aides, who were willing to serve in his court. Alone, these numbers were insufficient, and they had to be supplemented by judges drawn from the other sovereign courts and even from amongst the lawyers. In order to crown his achievement, Maupeou held a lit de justice on 13 April. Despite a heavy military presence there were no serious disturbances, and Louis XV administered his blessing of the new Parlement with a ringing endorsement that surprised contemporaries used to the inert demeanour of their king on public occasions. One of the most impressive of Maupeou's characteristics was his ability to convince an understandably sceptical audience that for once Louis XV intended to keep his word. There can be no doubt about the fact that he succeeded. By the beginning of the judicial year in November 1771, the strike amongst the lawyers


had been broken and the legal system once more cranked into motion. Nor was this all, and in addition to reforming the Parlement of Paris the chancellor had turned his attention to the provinces. The notoriously rebellious Parlement of Rouen was replaced by two Conseils Superieurs, while the Parlement of Douai was demoted to the same status. The Parlement of Metz was abolished and some of its more compliant magistrates absorbed into the neighbouring Parlement of Nancy. Maupeou was particularly adept at using institutional or regional rivalries to his own advantage, and, for example, the Parlement of Aix suffered the ignominy of being replaced by the Chambre des Comptes of Provence. In the great provincial capitals of Besangon, Bordeaux, Dijon, Grenoble, Rennes, and Toulouse, Maupeou tried, with varying degrees of success, to coax the more compliant amongst the existing magistrates to form the basis of a newly reformed Parlement.2 Brushing aside the remonstrances, protests, and venomous mass of polemical literature directed against him, Maupeou achieved nothing less than the complete submission of the hitherto indomitable parlements of France. Even those historians hostile to the reforms of the chancellor have been forced to admire the audacity of his work.3 However, in the case of the Parlement of Paris, it has long been argued that his new recruits were unworthy of their high calling.4 Convinced by the damning portraits painted by the chancellor's opponents, it has been widely believed that the reformed court contained ill-educated, inexperienced judges, lacking the social background or wealth required to fill the robes of their illustrious predecessors. Thanks to the work of Joel Felix, we now know that most of these allegations were false.5 Instead, the judges who served between 1771 and the recall of the old Parlement in November 1774 were almost exclusively part of the robe elite. Studies of these events include: W . Doyle, The parlement of Bordeaux and the end of the old regime, iyyi-iygo (London, 1974); Cubells, Les parlementaires d'Aix au XVIIIe siecle; and Gresset, Gens de justice a Besancon.

Two good examples were Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 286-92, 591-2, and Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 197-202, 226. Not that everyone has been convinced, and some sharp criticisms have been made by Carey, Judicial reform in France before the revolution. Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 301, 361-7, 546, and Egret, Uopposition parlemen-

taire, pp. 227-8. Felix, Magistrals du parlement.


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Many had served in one or another of the sovereign courts, most were noble, some with very distinguished pedigrees, and their lifestyle mirrored that of the rest of their social milieu. We should not be surprised by these conclusions. The vast majority of these men had either proved themselves to be loyal in earlier parlementaire crises or were linked to the parti devot. They were what Felix describes as the 'king's party5, or as they frequently styled themselves 'the king's good servants'.6 As Maupeou sought to fill the empty benches of the Parlement, he was naturally attracted by those who had shown themselves willing to serve the crown in the past. The Grand Conseil was, therefore, his happiest hunting ground, although earlier experiences of government weakness undoubtedly dissuaded some from cooperating. Aided by Bourgeois de Boynes, the chancellor also persuaded a number of loyalists from the Besangon affair to serve in the Parlement of Paris.7 When the Parlement of Besangon was itself reformed, it split along lines similar to those of 1759 and it was another former ally of Bourgeois, president Chiflet, who was named first president.8 Similar scenes were enacted in Rennes and Pau, with a total of four judges from those courts moving to the capital. Once again the link with previous political crises was unmistakable. Le Pretre de Chateaugiron, who had struggled in vain to defend the reformed Parlement of Rennes in 1769, and another ally of d'Aiguillon, Joseph Avoye de La Bourdonnaye, both answered the chancellor's call and were appointed to the office of president a mortier in the Parlement of Paris.9 Bourgeois, d'Aiguillon, and the marechal de Richelieu all placed their allies in this fashion, but both the officers and the infantry of the reform were committed to the defence of the royal authority. It was the genuine belief that the king should be obeyed, rather than any financial or other inducements, which persuaded them to suffer the insults of their opponents. For some there was also a religious dimension to their action. As we have seen, during the quarrels generated by Unigenitus, and especially the expulsion of the Jesuits, there was a section of parlementaire opinion that was sympathetic to the position of the clergy. The 6 7 8 9

Ibid., pp. 21-58. Ibid., pp. 26, 45-6. Estignard, Parlement de Franche-Comte, I, pp. 368-98. Egret, Uopposition parlementaire, p. 186, and Felix, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 45-6.


Parlement of Douai, for example, where support for the Jesuits was particularly strong, continued to serve Maupeou, despite being relegated to the status of a mere Conseil Superieur. The devot faction was also influential in providing recruits for the new Parlement of Paris.10 The most visible was abbe Collet, who had been nothing less than the confessor of the deceased dauphin! Archbishop Christophe de Beaumont, the bete noire of the exiled court, enjoyed an especially sweet revenge over his old adversaries, and most of the conseillers clercs in the reformed court were his proteges, known for their sympathy to the Jesuits. There was, therefore, some truth in the theory that the revolution of 1771 was a new battle in the long-running religious war.11 Maupeou should not, however, be seen as a tool of the expelled Society; it was only after the crisis of 1770 that he was forced to rely upon the devots. If his reforms had occurred largely by accident, they had been made possible because of the existence of a group within the robe that was prepared to put obedience to the king above their loyalty to their institutions. Not that the reformed court was perfect, and within months the new judges had caballed into a parti Maupeou and a parti d'Aiguillon.12 Once more, the quarrels of the ministry had cascaded down into the Palais de Justice.

While historians have long debated the existence of a serious division between robe and epee in the French nobility, they have rarely identified the schism within the robe itself. The political quarrels of the third quarter of the eighteenth century had forced the parlementaires to reflect upon their own role and not all were convinced by the constitutional theories of Montesquieu or Le Paige.13 Rather than sanction the radicalism of their colleagues, many more orthodox judges had either stopped attending the plenary sessions of their courts, or had resigned. As early as 1757, president de Bourbonne of Dijon had captured the sense of impotence and frustration of these magistrates in a letter to 10 11 12 13

Felix, Magistrals du parlement, pp. 50—6. Flammermont, Le chancelier Maupeou, pp. 427-31, 510. Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 41-2. Felix, Magistrats du parlement, pp. 44-58, and Swann, 'The Besangon affair'.


357

president de Chiflet, who was later to serve as first president of the Maupeou Parlement in Besangon.14 Bourbonne wrote: my bad health is the cause of my retirement, but disgust with our profession has had a lot of influence on my decision; our reward is the respect of our colleagues, and one can only aspire to that at present by bold resolutions and republican speeches. If that is the price to pay I give up. The crown thus lost the voice of a loyal magistrate who had served in his office for over twenty years. This haemorrhage of sympathetic opinion contributed to the unrest in the courts by robbing the first presidents of much needed support. It also demonstrates the existence of a mentality far removed from the turbulence and angry criticisms of government policy that had so often agitated the plenary sessions of the parlements. After listening to Maupeou's harangue installing the reformed Parlement of Paris on 13 April 1771 ? the new first president, Louis Jean Bertier de Sauvigny, captured the spirit of the occasion perfectly. He replied simply: 'silence, respect, submission'.15 His words were probably intended as a reproach for the alleged insubordination of his exiled predecessors. However, they also reflected an attitude to the royal authority that was common to many who sided with the crown in 1771 or who had done so during the various parlementaire crises since 1750. While undoubtedly a minority, these loyalists were still sufficiently numerous to provide a functioning judicial system between 1771 and 1774. Had Louis XVI given them the opportunity, they would have continued to do so. When implementing his reforms, Maupeou relied heavily upon the loyalty of the royal council and the central administration. Although there was some grumbling amongst the conseillers d'etat and maitres des requites who initially replaced the Parlement of Paris, there was no public mutiny against the chancellor. Even such staunch partisans of the Parlement as Claude Guillaume Lambert, now a maitre des requetes, performed what he described as 'this distressing and humiliating commission'.16 Only the 14 15 16

BMB Collection Chiflet 195, fols. 19-20, Bourbonne to Chiflet, 5 February 1757. AN K 699, dos. 17-18. BPR Collection Le Paige 541, Lambert to Le Paige, 13 February 1771. His letter was an anguished denunciation of Maupeou, and such opposition was undoubtedly more widespread in private.

358 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XVy 1754-1774

intendants of Brittany, Frangois Marie Bruno d'Agay de Mutigney and then Guillaume Joseph Dupleix de Bacquencourt, refused to participate in the destruction of the local Parlement.17 Far more serious was the refusal of the dues de Duras and d'Harcourt and the prince de Beauvau, respectively the commandants of Brittany, Normandy, and Languedoc, to implement similar instructions. When senior military officers refuse to obey orders, it is usually a sign that a regime is in trouble, and the crisis of 1771 in France was no exception. Rather than sanction the chancellor's policies, the princes of the blood, with the exception of the comte de La Marche, protested to Louis XV on 12 April 1771 and were told to withdraw from the court as a result. Not surprisingly, it was the prince de Conti who headed this princely fronde, using arguments provided by Durey de Meinieres and Le Paige.18 Amongst the aristocrats of the court, the disgrace of the due de Choiseul and the exile of the Parlement became blurred and over two hundred of their number trekked to Chanteloup in Anjou to salute the fallen minister. Their gesture was a sign of political independence unseen since the frondes and was symptomatic of the sharp decline in respect for the monarchy that was so apparent in the final years of the reign. Despite his unpopularity, Louis XV was not in danger of losing his throne. Instead, the government was able to call upon proven defenders of royal authority, such as the dues de Fitz-James, de Lorges, and de Richelieu to conduct the ceremonies required for the reform of the judiciary. Yet, when we consider that by the end of 1771 several hundred judges were exiled, that most of the princes of the blood were estranged from the king, and that some military commandants and, even, two intendants had refused to obey orders, the extent of the crisis becomes clear. 11

In many respects, the events of 17715 with their combination of constitutional arguments and factionalism amongst the governing elite, heralded the much graver crisis of 1787-9. Nor were the 17 18

Egret, Uopposition parlementaire, pp. 194-5. BS M s 9226.


359

quarrels amongst the judicial and aristocratic clans the only damaging consequence of the revolution of 1771. As Maupeou tore down the old judicial structure, his opponents unleashed a pamphlet war of hitherto unseen dimensions.19 Once again, Jansenist lawyers such as Le Paige, Mey, and Maultrot were to the fore in publishing tracts and polemics criticising the alleged despotism of the chancellor.20 With the notable exception of Voltaire, they were joined by the vast majority of enlightened opinion. Broadly described as the parti patriote, this opposition was extremely diverse in terms of both its social composition and its political opinions. What united its members was the belief that by abolishing the parlements, the self-styled intermediaries between the king and his people, Maupeou had crossed the threshold of despotism. It was this fear that prevented enlightened opinion from welcoming the reforms of the chancellor. For his opponents, the parlements, whatever their shortcomings, had offered a necessary barrier to the unbridled exercise of royal power. They were both a check on government and a means of articulating concerns and grievances. Although Maupeou had allowed his reformed parlements to remonstrate, few were prepared to put their faith in those who had collaborated in his schemes. As the chancellor gradually replaced the old courts, it became apparent that 1771 was not another political 'affair' to compare with those of 1753-4 and 1756-7. His measures were not intended to coerce the magistrates into returning to their duties on terms favourable to the crown. Instead, he sought to permanently replace them. It was for this reason that contemporaries spoke of 'Maupeou's revolution'. His actions revealed the essential hollowness of the claim that the Parlement of Paris was an integral part of the French constitution, or that it could genuinely represent the nation. The fundamental political weakness of the parlementaires was for many a sign that the country needed a more effective check on government. One of the first to make

The work of Echeverria, The Maupeou revolution, pp. 37-122, offers an excellent introduction to this subject. In addition to the work of Echeverria cited above, see Van Kley, Damiens, pp. 18895, Joynes, 'Jansenists and ideologues', and Baker, Inventing the French revolution, pp. 111-12.


this argument was Malesherbes in his justly celebrated remonstrances of February 1771 calling for convocation of the Estates General. Others would come to a similar conclusion, and the idea that the parlements could act as an intermediary body between the king and the people was increasingly discounted. As Malesherbes had realised, Maupeou, by breaking the parlements, had destroyed the myth of a balanced constitution.21 In doing so he had opened a Pandora's box of constitutional theories, and ideas and arguments flew out attracting the attention of those who, in the normal course of affairs, would never have troubled themselves with such matters. Calls for the assembly of the Estates General subsided temporarily after 1774, but once the initial popularity of the new king had waned, renewed crisis was nearly certain to bring pressure for a national forum to sanction change. In a sense, therefore, the arguments of those who had claimed a constitutional role for the parlements bore fruit at the very moment that the main trunk of their theories died. For a generation, the public debate about the legitimate exercise of royal power and the influence of theorists such as Montesquieu had established in the mind of the French public the idea of a constitutional check. If that role was not to be fulfilled by the magistrates, then some other body would have to take their place. Here lay the real significance of the political crisis of 1771, and the model of an authoritarian monarchy offered by Maupeou was unlikely to take root in such soil. Even if his reforms had been maintained, the ultimate problem of representation was still to be resolved. in

In the short term, the parti patriote failed, and the ruthlessness of the chancellor and the unusual resilience of Louis XV meant that the monarchy weathered the storm. During 1772, the princes of the blood, minus the intractable Conti, negotiated their return to the court, and the normal life of Versailles resumed. Most of the judges exiled in 1771 were given permission to return to their estates, and the pamphlet war sparked by the judicial 21

In his memoirs, J. M. Augeard, Memoires secrets, pp. 38-41, recorded a conversation with Malesherbes which sheds light on many of the consequences of the crisis of 1771.


361

revolution began to abate. Superficially, at least, Maupeou had triumphed, but the fragility of his victory was quickly apparent when Louis XV died in May 1774 after a brief, but terrible, illness.22 His young successor was gradually coaxed into abandoning first Maupeou and then his reforms by his wily adviser, the comte de Maurepas. 23 Having been exiled since 1749, Maurepas had avoided the storms that had struck relations between the crown and the Parlement and he genuinely believed that with care future difficulties could be prevented. Appropriately enough, he turned to Hue de Miromesnil, another traditionalist and a long-time ally, as a replacement for Maupeou and together they presided over the reestablishment of the Parlement of Paris in November 1774. Ever since 1789, there has been a debate about whether or not this decision hastened the approach of the revolution.24 Convinced that the opposition of the parlements prevented the reforms needed to stave off the bankruptcy that preceded 1789, many historians have lamented Louis XVFs decision. Michel Antoine has recently repeated these arguments, providing a formidable defence of the theory that the monarchy could have been saved by Maupeou's reforms. For Antoine, and the school of historians that he represents, Louis XV had, before his death, finally grasped the nettle of reform, and in deferential tones he writes of 'His Majesty' solving the problems of the state.25 Yet the evidence of Louis undergoing the equivalent of a Pauline conversion in 1771 is, as has been shown, missing. Instead, his government blundered into a reform of the judiciary because of its own factionalism, the pressures of the court cabals at Versailles and plain mismanagement. Maupeou's reforms were flawed as a result because having been inspired by political expediency, they lacked depth or consistency. After April 1771, Louis appeared determined to stand by the judicial reorganisation, and for three years he kept his word. We will never know 22

23 24

25

The argument that the reforms of 1771 were always vulnerable has been made with great force by Doyle, 'The parlements of France'. Hardman, Louis XVI, pp. 27-38. In addition to the works of Flammermont, Egret, Doyle, and Hardman cited above, see: Carre, Le regne de Louis XV, pp. 395-417; Mousnier, Institutions, II; and Hudson, 'In defence of reform'. M. Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 909-92. His arguments are in the tradition of historians such as Gaxotte, Louis XV, and Laugier, Le triumvirat.

362 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV> 1754-1774

whether he was capable of maintaining that resolution, but it is clear that the intrigues of other ministers, especially d'Aiguillon, made the chancellor vulnerable. With a weak king, there was always a danger that one of the periodic upheavals at Versailles would engulf both Maupeou and his creation. Like its more famous cousin 1789, the revolution of 1771 was a short-term accident with long-term causes. The current historiography of eighteenth-century France bristles with phrases such as the 'desacralization of the monarchy',26 and the 'ideological confrontation'27 between the crown and the parlements. Little is written about the humiliation of the monarchy in the Seven Years War, when France lost not only her colonies, but also her military honour on the fields of Minden and Rosbach. Had the gods of war smiled on Louis XV, then it is likely that the squabbling of the parlementaires and the clergy, and the sectarian wrangling of Jansenists and Jesuits, would have been quickly forgotten. Instead, a defeat that was costly in every sense of the term left the government reeling and magnified the political leverage of the parlements. For much of the decade after 1760, the crown was constantly teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, and it was materially and psychologically incapable of asserting its authority against the magistrates. The personality of Louis XV was a significant cause of these difficulties. After the death of cardinal de Fleury, the king's council had suffered from the absence of a central focus because despite his intelligence and good intentions, Louis XV never ruled. When faced by the seemingly interminable religious and financial disputes of midcentury, his government was paralysed by internal feuds and dissensions. These problems filtered down inexorably into the Parlement of Paris, partly because ministers and courtiers realised that there was political capital to be made. Instead of being confined to their traditional legal sphere, the judges were encouraged to play a wider political role. By itself, the politicisation of the Parlement was disturbing. The problem was exacerbated by the inconsistency and even incompetence of royal treatment of the magistrature. Time was 26

27

The theme of Merrick's fine study, Desacralization. The subject had also been explored by, among others, Van Kley, Damiens, and Chartier, Cultural origins of the French revolution. Baker, Inventing the French revolution, pp. 36-7.


363

not being taken to manage the courts, and as the generation of Fleury and d'Aguesseau faded away, they took the lessons learned under Louis XIV about how to control the judiciary with them. Not that the task facing their successors should be underestimated. After 1750, there was a serious disequilibrium between the institutional reality of French government and the popular perception of the constitutional role of the parlements. Under the terrible strain of the Seven Years War, the crown was obliged to deal with the Parlement of Paris, as well as twelve provincial parlements and a host of Cours des Aides and Chambres des Comptes,

plus the provincial estates in Brittany, Languedoc, and Burgundy. As fiscal edicts had to be agreed to by all of these bodies, it imposed an immense burden upon the time and resources of the ministry, and especially of the controleur general. That the crown largely avoided acting ruthlessly before 1771 was in some ways remarkable, although this should not be taken as a sign that government was working well. If the revolution of 1771 was an accident, there had been no shortage of near misses in the previous decade as the crises of 1759-60 and 1763 as well as the Brittany and Besangon affairs all testified. Many within the royal administration were well aware of the problem, and ideas for constitutional reform were in the air from at least 1760. Suggestions included the reestablishment of provincial estates to oversee taxation, and a plan to create a Cour Pleniere which would register laws and edicts for the entire kingdom. There were two botched efforts to increase the role of the Grand Conseil, and even, it has been claimed, some muted calls for the Estates General.28 Many of these plans later reemerged under Louis XVI with mixed results, but even before Maupeou there was an awareness that government needed some form of public consent to work effectively, and that registration through the parlements was not the ideal solution. Before 1771, such ideas were shared only by a tiny minority and the confidence and prestige of the parlements undoubtedly grew in the preceding two decades. Flattered by Montesquieu and, above all, by Le Paige, the parlementaires revelled in their 28

According to Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 812-13, both the marechal de Belle-Isle and the intendant desfinances,d'Ormesson, had come to the conclusion that the Estates General were needed. Charles-Francois Lebrun, Opinions, pp. 18-21, made similar observations to chancellor Maupeou.

364 Politics and the Parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1754.-1 jy4

reputation as the 'fathers of the patrie* and the Voice of the nation3. The contribution of Jansenist magistrates to the ideas and actions of the court was immense. Through the speeches of abbe Chauvelin and his collaborators, the theories and arguments of the parti janseniste dominated the Parlement, inspiring many of its most dramatic political acts. Inventive and articulate, they beguiled their colleagues with the antiquarianism of Le Paige and silenced opponents with the power of their rhetoric. Nor were their interests purely religious, and even on fiscal matters it was the parti janseniste which did most to frustrate government policy. The expulsion of the Jesuits in 1764 was their greatest triumph, and it has been claimed that by destroying their enemies 'they defined themselves out of existence'.29 Within the Parlement the power of the parti certainly diminished, and there was no second wave of Jansenists to take up the baton of opposition. Yet their decline was not simply the result of the absence of Jesuits. The expulsion of the Jesuits had been possible because of the benevolent attitude of Choiseul and Mme de Pompadour, and some of the most effective members of the parti were absorbed into the machinery of government. Talented young magistrates such as Lambert, L'Averdy, and Drouyn de Vaudeuil were all effectively silenced by promotion into positions of responsibility. That they should have followed this route was perfectly predictable. As members of the Parlement of Paris, they were part of the noble political and administrative elite, and if they were prepared to tone down their religious enthusiasm they could hope for rewarding careers in the service of the crown. Their conduct is a warning to those historians who interpret politics simply in terms of ideology or discourse. By talking in terms of a these parlementaire, or a 'judicial discourse',30 historians compartmentalise individuals and institutions in an arbitrary and unrealistic fashion. Amongst the magistrates there were many who rejected the constitutional fantasies of Le Paige. Even when they were sympathetic to those ideas, the judges were not trapped into some form of ideological straightjacket. A bright young magistrate such as Lambert, or even the more famous Malesherbes, was perfectly capable of writing remonstrances one day 29 30

Van Kley, Jansenists and Jesuits, p. 228. B a k e r , Inventing the French revolution, p p . 1 1 9 - 2 0 , 1 2 5 - 7 .


365

and a pro-government pamphlet, official royal reply, or edict the next.31 Through his role as an enlightened censor and acerbic critic of the monarchy, Malesherbes has become the established hero of liberal historians and a target of the defenders of the administrative monarchy.32 His remonstrances of 1775 have even been honoured with the title of the most enlightened form of 'judicial discourse'.33 Yet in addition to his devastating remonstrances for the Cour des Aides, Malesherbes was equally capable of helping Bourgeois de Boynes write pamphlets sustaining his position, and that of the government, during the Besangon affair.34 Finally, when contacted by his distant cousin, president de Brosses of Dijon, Malesherbes wrote remonstrances criticising the same government for supporting the officials of the Burgundian estates against the Parlement.35 These examples are not intended to tarnish the notion that Malesherbes was a liberal and enlightened individual; he undoubtedly represented all that was best about the magistrature of the ancien regime. Instead, they show the absence of a clear ideological motive in the judicial and administrative life of eighteenth-century France. Judges moved comfortably from one side to another of the political quarrel, depending upon the personal, family, or institutional issues at stake. It is, however, possible that a generational factor was at work amongst the magistrates. Men like Lambert or Michau de Montblin were born long after Louis XIV's death. They had no memories of the Parlement's more restrained years under the sun king, and treated the public debate with the crown as a right. In a sense they were both the cause and the product of a new form of judicial politics, and to treat their words as those of disloyal 'leaguers and frondeurs'36 is both misleading and anachronistic. Like much of educated opinion, they believed the government to be a haven of waste and mismanagement and articulated the fact. Moreover, when 31

32

33 34

35 36

This is exactly what Lambert was doing throughout 1763, see chapter 8 above, and Malesherbes was behaving similarly between 1758 and 1763. For contrasting portraits, see Egret, L'opposition parlementaire, pp. 117-23, 144-8, 1907, and Antoine, Louis XV, pp. 771-4. B a k e r , Inventing the French revolution, p p . 1 1 9 - 2 0 , 1 2 6 - 7 . Moreau, Mes souvenirs, I, p. 79. Bourgeois and Malesherbes were good friends at this time and regularly spent time together. Foiset, Le president de Brosses, p . 2 1 8 . This charge is repeated throughout the one thousand pages of Antoine, Louis XV.


given the opportunity, they proved themselves to be able and effective servants of the crown. Lambert was the last controleur general to enjoy the personal confidence of Louis XVI, and like his sovereign perished upon the scaffold in 1793.37 In order to understand these apparent contradictions, we need to remember the peculiar corporate mentality of the ancien regime. A member of the Parlement was expected to defend the reputation of his institution. Once he transferred to the royal council or administration, other traditions and codes of behaviour had to be obeyed. However, for the majority who remained within the Parlement, it was the rights and privileges of their corps which were uppermost in determining their behaviour. When the government sought to alter the jurisdictional status quo by elevating a rival court such as the Grand Conseil, as occurred in 1756 and 1768, or to circumvent basic legal principles as it did in Brittany after 1765, the magistrates presented a vociferous and united resistance. Their behaviour was thoroughly consistent with the attitudes of a powerful corporation determined to defend its prestige and influence. Admittedly, the language employed in many of the Parlement's remonstrances was less orthodox, but it is a mistake to assume that these texts alone provide a satisfactory explanation for the conflict with the king. Imbued with an essentially conservative view of their institution, the judges used new constitutional arguments as valuable weapons with which to fight more conventional battles.38 In this study, these traditional legal attitudes, the importance of personal or family interests, the need to manage the judiciary, and the role of intrigue both at Versailles and within the Parlement have all been emphasised. Such issues seem far removed from the ideologies and the constitutional wars of words which dominate current historiographical debate. In order to understand the behaviour of the Parlement, however, it is necessary to leave the disembodied world of 'discourse' behind, and return instead to the personalities, social and institutional background, and arguments of the magistrates themselves. Such an approach 37

38

Lambert was twice controleur general between 1787 and 1790, and fell, despite the king's backing, in November 1790. This type of behaviour was common to many ancien regime institutions. The work of G. Bossenga, The politics of privilege: old regime and revolution in Lille (Cambridge, 1991),

pp. 47-69, has some particularly pertinent examples.


367

promises a more complex and ultimately accurate portrayal of judicial politics under Louis XV. Maupeou's revolution shattered this world and broke the spirit and reputation of the Parlement, and the debate about the recall of 1774 is, in a sense, misplaced. As Doyle has so rightly argued, the magistrates returned under Louis XVI badly chastened and were neither willing nor able to resist the crown.39 After the defeat of 1771, the fiction of a Parlement descended from the Frankish mists was destroyed, and with it many of the other products of Le Paige's constitutional imagination, notably the theory of a union des classes. Subsequently all the magistrates could do was carry the flame for the Estates General and the broader idea of an institutional check upon the exercise of royal power. During the crisis of 1787-8, they performed that function effectively enough, effacing themselves before the superior authority of the representative body of the nation. Finally, the comparative silence of the Parlement after 1774 was due, in part, to the policies of a new ministry which attempted to revive traditional methods of managing the judiciary. Under the conservative Hue de Miromesnil, there was a conscious effort to recreate the harmonious relationship between the crown and Parlement of an earlier age.40 To his credit, he succeeded in the short term, and through a combination of gentle persuasion and calculated appeasement he put a badly cracked Humpty-Dumpty back on the wall. It was not a permanent solution. All that the recall achieved was a postponement of the fateful moment when some form of representative body would be required to replace the Parlement and restore the monarchy's political legitimacy. That was the lesson of 1771 and of the two decades of constitutional theorising that had preceded it. By 1774, France was an increasingly educated and pluralist society which could no longer be governed by a monarch ruling through his council and the bureaucratic apparatus of the administrative monarchy. Change was required and the crown needed a new consensus for the exercise of its authority. Here was the challenge that confronted Louis XVI and his ministers when they abandoned the authoritarianism of Maupeou. With the crown tarnished by the 39 40

Doyle, 'The parlements of France'. Stone, Parlement of Paris, pp. 19-61.


vice of his grandfather, the decision of Louis XVI to recall the parlements was predictable, if not inevitable. The return of the old courts recouped some much needed popularity, and it offered a short breathing space before confronting the real challenge to come. The sacrifice of Maupeou's reforms was not, however, without cost because the victims were those men who had been prepared to serve the monarchy in the most trying circumstances. In his biography of Louis XVI, John Hardman has described an increasingly isolated king, surrounded by a court full of constitutionalists of every description, desperately looking for some support for his vision of the administrative monarchy.41 His discomfiture was the price paid for the abandonment of the 'king's party' in 1774. The bitterness and resentment of those loyalists was inevitable, and it was captured in a conversation between abbe Terray and the young due des Cars.42 In 1777, with rumours of Terray's possible recall in the air, Cars broached the subject with the abbe. In response, Terray showed him a letter from Louis XVI thanking him for his services in securing the throne of his grandfather. He then declared: 'well monsieur, you believe that having been insulted by the people, having been forced to rely upon the protection of soldiers, I would return there again . . . . No, no, I am content in my obscurity, I have said to the court an eternal adieu.' Such words were echoed in the hearts of many of the 'king's good servants' who had rallied to the crown in 1771. They had broken the parlements, but the administrative monarchy had lost its soul. The age of absolutism was over. 41 42

Hardman, Louis XVI. Cars, Memoires, I, p. 172.

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Retat, P., Uattentat de Damiens: discours sur Vevenement au XVIIIe siecle (Lyon, 1979) Riley, J. C , The Seven Years War and the old regime in France: the economic and financial toll (Princeton, 1986) Rocquain, F., Uesprit revolutionnaire avant la revolution, 1715-1789 (Paris, 1878) Rogister, J. M. J., 'Louis-Adrien Lepaige and the attack on De Vesprit and the Encyclopedie in 1759', English Historical Review 92 (1977), 522-39 Scott, H., 'The catholic powers and the the attack on the Jesuits, 1756-1773'. I am grateful to Dr Scott for allowing me to consult his forthcoming article. Senac de Meilhan, G., Le gouvernement, les moeurs et les conditions en France avant la revolution, avec le caractere des principaux personnages du regne de Louis XVI (Hamburg, 1795) Les principes et les causes de la revolution en France (Paris, 1862) Shennan, J. H., 'The political role of the Parlement of Paris, 1715-23', Historical Journal 8 (1965), 179-200 'The political role of the parlement of Paris under cardinal de Fleury', English Historical Review 81 (1966), 520-42 The parlement of Paris (London, 1968) Philippe due d Orleans (London, 1979) Soboul, A., The French revolution, 1787-1799. From the storming of the Bastille to Napoleon (London, 1989) Sonenscher, M., Work and wages: natural law, politics and the eighteenth-century French trades (Cambridge, 1989) Stone, B., 'Robe against sword: the parlement of Paris and the French aristocracy, 1774-1789', French Historical Studies 9 (1975), 278-303 The parlement of Paris, 1774-1789 (Chapel Hill, 1981) The French parlements and the crisis of the old regime (Chapel Hill, 1986) Swann, J., 'Parlement, politics and the parti janseniste: the Grand Conseil affair, ^ S - ^ 6 ' * French History 6 (1992), 435-61 'Parlements and political crisis in France under Louis XV: the Besangon affair, 175 7-1761', Historical Journal (1994). Van Kley, D., The Jansenists and the expulsion of the Jesuits from France, 1757-1765 (New Haven, 1975) 'The prince de Conty versus Mme de Pompadour and the political crisis of 1756-1757 in France: an eighteenth-century fronde manque?', Proceedings of the annual meeting of the Western Society for French History 8 (1980), 227-8. The Damiens affair and the unraveling of the ancien regime, 1750-1770 (Princeton, 1984) Vatel, C , Histoire de Mme du Barry (3 vols., Paris, 1883) Vian, L., Les Lamoignon, une vieille famille de robe (Paris, 1896) Villers, R., L'organisation du parlement de Paris et des conseils superieurs d'apres la reforme de Maupeou (Paris, 1937) Viollet, P., Le roi et ses ministres pendant les trois derniers siecles de la monarchic (Paris, 1912) Waddington, R., Louis XV et le renversement des alliances. Preliminaires de la guerre de sept ans, 1754-1756 (Paris, 1896) La Guerre de Sept Ans (4 vols., Paris, 1898-1908) Weuleresse, G., Le mouvement physiocratique en France de 1756 a 1770 (2 vols., Paris, 1910)

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61-88 Wolf, J., Louis XIV (London, 1968) Woodbridge, J. D., 'The French protestants' "secret": the prince de Conti's conspiracy against Louis XV in 1756—1757% Proceedings of the annual meeting of the Western Society for French History 8 (1980), 229-6.

UNPUBLISHED DISSERTATIONS Campbell, P. R., 'The conduct of politics in France in the time of the cardinal de Fleury, 1723-1743', unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of London, 1985) Hardman, J. D., 'Ministerial politics in France from the accession of Louis XVI to the assembly of notables, 1774-1787', unpublished D.Phil, thesis (University of Oxford, 1972) Joynes, D. C , 'Jansenists and ideologues: opposition theory in the parlement of Paris, 1750-1775', unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of Chicago, 1981) Mansergh, M., 'The revolution of 1771 or the exile of the parlement of Paris', unpublished D.Phil, thesis (University of Oxford, 1973) Price, M., 'The comte de Vergennes and the baron de Breteuil: French politics and reform in the reign of Louis XVF, unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of Cambridge, 1989) Rogister, J. M. J., 'Conflict and harmony in eighteenth-century France: a reappraisal of the nature of the relations between the crown and the parlement of Paris under Louis XV, 1730-1754', unpublished D.Phil, thesis (University of Oxford, 1972) Shennan, J. H., 'The political role of the parlement of Paris, 1715-1748', unpublished Ph.D. thesis (University of Cambridge, 1963)

Index Abbadie, Jean d', 12 Agay de Mutigny, Frangois Marie Bruno 3 1 1 Charles III, king of Spain, 210, 212, 213 Charles VIII, king of France, 296 Chartier, Roger, 83 Chateauroux, Marie Anne de Nesle, duchesse de, 141 Chatelet, 114

Chauvelin, Henri-Philippe de, abbe, 99, 101, 115-18, 121, 138-9, 140—1, 159, 160, 186, 236, 255—6, 294; character and reputation, 102-3, 208; debating skills, 106-8, 111-13, 117, 119, 1656, 175, 179, 364; opposition to second vingtieme, 167-9, I 7I> 173, 175, 176, 178-82; and expulsion of the Jesuits, 206, 208-11, 213, 216, 298, 309-10 Chauvelin, marquis de, 210 Chavannes, Jacques de, 12, 99, 139, 286, 297> 3 0 1 Chiflet, Franc.ois-Xavier de, 235, 355, 357 Choiseul (family), 14, 50, 51, 239 Choiseul, Etienne Frangois, comte de Stainville, then due de Choiseul, secretary of state, 32, 48, 51-4, 144, *97> 215-17, 247-9, 259, 298, 304-5, 310-11, 3i3> 316, 331, 334, 337, 340, 346, 351; fall of, 47, 51, 60, 142, 204-6, 343-4, 358; appointment as secretary of state, 49, 193, 194-6; relations with Mme de Pompadour, 54, 154; clash with Mme du Barry, 56; attitude towards the Parlements, 76, 82, 193, 203-4, 208-11, 213, 217, 219, 240-2, 288-9, 298, 300, 310, 312, 342-3; as ambassador to Rome, 115, 195; and expulsion of the Jesuits, 194, 208-13, 364; accusations of his enemies, 196, 213-14, 278, 316, 319-20; diplomatic policy, 197, 212-13, 340-1, 343; and factional politics, 219, 236—8, 260, 278, 303, 316, 319-23, 328, 341-3 Clement XI, pope, 89, 98 Clement de Feillet, Ambroise-Julien, 64, 99, 101, 107, i n , 116, 117, 118, H9> 121, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 160, 297-8, 300, 302, 310, 333; opposition to second vingtieme, 167-9, 171, 173, 179-80; Clergy, 82, 108, 114, 125, 161, 355, 362; refusal of the sacraments, 70, 87, 103-6, 119, 124, 127-8, 297-8;

jurisdictional quarrels with parlements, 75; and law of silence of 1754, 87-8, 102, 120-1; response to Unigenitus, 89, n o ; defence of fiscal exemptions, 91-2, 158-9, 286; General Assembly of, n o ; episcopate, n o , 112, 114-16, 119, 120-1, 125, 128, 159, 180; congregations, i n , 113; cures, 111— i3> I J 9 Clermont-Ferrand, 352 Cluny, 21 Cobban, Alfred, 28, 29, 158, 334 Cochin, Augustin Henri, 255 Colbert (family), 48 Colbert, Jean-Baptiste, 47, 143 Coliniere, M. de La, councillor in the Parlement of Rennes, 258 Colle, Charles, playwright, 49, 51 Collet, Jean, abbe, 356 Colombine, 16-17 Committimus, 6-7 Compagnie des Indes, 286

Compiegne, 171, 172, 173, 174, 237 Conciliarism, 36 Conde, Louis Joseph de Bourbon, prince de, 78, 320, 345, 346 Conflans, 103, 104, 114 Coniac, senechal of Rennes, 275 Conseil Conseil Conseil Conseil

d'En-haut, 19, 46, 144 des Depeches, 19, 46, 124, 196 Prive, 19 Superieur, 352, 354, 356

Conseillers d'etat, 19, 128, 135, 259, 262-3, 268, 290, 352, 357 Conti, Louis Francois de Bourbon, prince de, 78, 130, 241; ties to parti janseniste, 78, 126, 141, 169, 180-2; support of Parlement, 82, 126, 358, 360; and exile of 1753-4, 91; as counsel to Louis XV, 91, 125-6, 128; split with Louis XV, 181-2 Controleur general, office of, 12, 50, 363; involvement in judicial affairs, 60; instability of, 61, 185-6 Coquelin, priest, 103-4 Coriolis-Espinouze, president a mortier in the Parlement of Aix, 236 Corsica, 210, 341 Corvee, 221

Cotte, Jules Frangois de, 107, 108, 152, 175 Com des Aides (Paris), 1, 20, 59, 167, 169, 353, 363, 3 65 Cour des Aides (Montpellier), 232

Index Cour des Monnaies, 1, 20 Cour Pleniere, 80, 164, 363

Criminal ordinance of 1670, 24-5 Damiens, Robert Frangois, 55, 84, 136, 137, 141, 142 Davy de La Fautriere, Louis, 99 Delpech de Mereville, Jean, n , 139 Delumeau, Jean, 168 Desvieux, Philippe fitienne, 152 Dijon, 85, 356, 365 Dixieme, 16, 147, 161 Douet de Vichy, Claude-Gabriel, 139 Doyen, 5, 64, 339, 349 Doyle, William, 32, 34, 304, 315, 327, 337> 367 Drouyn de Vaudeuil, Pierre-Louis-Anne, 100, 137, 139, 159, 160, 201, 258, 265, 293-4, 297-8, 364 Dubois, Pierre-Alexis, president, 134, 137, 139 Dues et pairs, 3, 5, 35, 81-2, 152-3, 179, 280, 289, 293, 296, 325, 329-31, 332 Dufort de Cheverny, Jean Nicolas, 210 Dumesnil, Charles Louis Joachim Chastelier, marquis du, 245, 247, 248, 249 Duplaa, president a mortier in the

Parlement of Pau, 257 Dupleix de Bacquencourt, Guillaume Joseph, 358 Dupre de La Grange, Louis, 78, 79—80 Duras, Emmanuel Felicite de Durfort, due de, 358 Durey de Meinieres, Jean-Baptiste-Franôis, 69, 96, 99, 139, 140, 145, 146, 147-8, 182, 242, 299> 30I> 358 Dutch War (1672—8), 57, 130 Ecclesiastical courts, 21 Echeverria, Durand, 38 Ecole Royal Militaire,

167

Egret, Jean, 31-2, 219 Elizabeth II, empress of Russia, 123 England, i n , 123, 149, 160, 172, 193, 212, 237, 341, 343 Enquetes, 67, 127, 133, 134, 188, 273, 293, 321, 336; organisation and membership, 5-6, 15, 122, 129, 152, 165; judicial role, 6-7, 10-11; daily routine, 22-3; involvement in debates, 62-3, 64, 65, 130, 167 Epices, 16-17, 352

383

Esbarbes, Marie Barthelemie Thoynard de Jouy, comtesse d', 317 Estates General, 2, 15, 169, 360, 363, 367 Estates of Brittany, 252, 253, 254, 261, 302-3, 311, 363 Estates of Burgundy, 85, 198, 363, 365 Estates of Languedoc, 363 Evocations, 19, 89, 279, 280, 285 Ex Omnibus, 115-18, 127, 195 Falkland Islands, 341, 343 Favier, Jean-Louis, 319-20 Felix, Joel, 354 Fenelon, archbishop of Cambrai, 215 Ferme, Marc Jacques, 133, 175 First president(s), office and duties, 4-5, 7, 9-10, 12, 61-5, 67, 73, 79, 129, 160; his good offices, 67, 170, 256; drafting of remonstrances, 68-70 Fitz-James, Charles, due de, 68, 73, 22831* 245~9> 324, 325, 358 Five great farms, 20 Flammermont, Jules, 31, 32, 64, 139, 294 Flesselles, Jacques de, 260, 275, 302, 305, 334 Fleury, cardinal de, 43, 52-3, 79, 86, 95, 148, 205, 285, 362, 363; as first minister, 46, 52, 89-90 Fontainebleau, 240, 244, 318 Fontenoy, battle of, 45 Forcalquier, Mme de, 324 Ford, Franklin, 29 Fosse, Thomas du, 207 Fouquet, Nicholas, 60, Franche-Comte, 199, 204, 217 Frederick II, king of Prussia, 123, 130, 153, J 93 Freville, Henri, 251 Frondes, 41, 42, 83, 156, 164, 168, 235, 33O> 358 Froulay, Mme de, 342 Fundamental laws, 34-5, 57, 146, 168, 169, 173, 179, 180, 199, 200, 256, 290, 299 Furet, Francois, 38 Gabelles, 20 Gages, 16, 352 Gallican articles, 89 Gallicanism, 21, 43, 80, 121 Garde des sceaux, 13

Gars de Fremainville, Antoine-Louis-Avoye de, 100, 139, 140, 291-4, 297-8, 302, 333, 336, 338, 341, 345

384

Index

Gauthier de Besigny, 99, 116, 138, 171, 297, 302 Gazette de France, 83

Gens du roi, office and duties of, 5, 7, 22, 61-2, 67, 71, 116, 129, 170-2, 264, 272, 276, 325-6, 337, 353 Gilbert de Voisins, Pierre, 14, 196, 255, 261, 268, 270 Gillet de La Caze, first president of the Parlement of Pau, 215, 229, 257 Glasson, Emile, 223 Gramont, Beatrix de Choiseul-Stainville, duchesse de, 317, 320-1, 341, 342 Grand'chambre, 3, 5, 7, 10, 22, 62, 67, 109, 118, 127, 129, 133-7, I 66, J75> 207, 277, 293, 295-6, 330, 338, 348; involvement in debates, 63, 65, 167, 173, 182, 186, 187, 273 Grand Conseil, 18, 23, 64, 80, 152, 160, 162, 164, 168, 200, 206, 270, 285, 286, 298, 353, 355, 363, 366; judicial competence, 20-1, 131, 132, 290-1; quarrels with parlements, 61-2, 73, 77, 81, i n , 131-2, 136, 290-6, 312, 329 Gresset, Maurice, 301 Gueidan, Gaspard de, avocat general in the Parlement of Aix, 236 Habsburg, House of, 123 Harcourt, Anne Pierre, due d', 227-8, 230, 358 Hardman, John, 368 Hardy, Simeon Prosper, diarist, 277, 318, 336, 338, 342-3, 347 Hausset, Mme du, 154 Henault, Charles-Jean-Frangois, president, 12, 14, 125, 144 Henri III, king of France, 52 Henri IV, king of France, 52 Hericourt, Frangois-Benigne du Trousset, abbe d', 107, 108 Heron, Pierre Marc, 139 Hocquart, Jean-Hyacinthe-Emmanuel d', 242-4, 258, 296, 300, 301, 302, 338, 34i Holbach, baron d', 24 Hotel de bailliage, 133

Hudson, David, 33 Ignatius Loyola, Saint, founder of Jesuits, 207 Intendants, 13, 26, 328, 351, 358 Jansen, Cornelius, bishop of Ypres, 80, 98

Jansenism, 21, 27, 36, 37-8; 43-4, 120; convulsionary sect, 95, 98—9, 101-2; general principles, 98-9, see also parti janseniste

Jesuits, 25, 27, 36-7, 98, 112, 140, 180, 191, 214—15, 217, 235-6, 242, 249, 254, 297-8, 308-9, 310, 312, 320, 341, 344, 348, 355-6, 362; expulsion of, 70, 101, 193-4, 206-13, 364 Joly de Fleury (family), 9 Joly de Fleury, Guillaume-Frangois-Louis, procureur general, 128, 130, 290, 327

Joly de Fleury, Jean-Franc.ois, conseiller d'etat, 261, 269 Joly de Fleury, Jean-Omer, avocat general, 24, 115, 286; then president a mortier,

323-4 Joynes, D. Carroll, 36, 177 Kaplan, Stephen, 285 Krefeld, battle of, 154, 197 La La La La

Borde, Jean-Joseph, marquis de, 322 Bourdonnaye (family), 12 Bourdonnaye, Joseph Avoye de, 355 Chalotais, Louis-Rene de Caradeuc de, procureur general of the Parlement of Rennes, 84, 207, 252-4, 256-7, 259, 277, 302, 306-7, 309-11, 314, 321, 323, 332, 342; imprisonment and trial, 250-1, 258, 261-6, 271, 275-6, 280-3, 329 La Gascherie, see Charette Lally-Tollendal, Thomas-Arthur de, 77 Lalource, Charlemagne, avocat, 99, 207, 309 La Marche, Louis Frangois Joseph de Bourbon-Conti, comte de, 358 Lambert, Claude Guillaume, 70, 99, 101, 103, 107, i n , 117, 118, 119, 139, 140, 141, 206, 208, 209, 265, 271, 310, 365-6; personality and reputation, 100, 170; opposition to second vingtieme, 167-9, I 7°- I > *73> 175, 179-81; as government adviser, 222, 225, 240-4, 248, 255-6, 286, 364; as maitre des requites, 297, 298,

357 Lambert, Marie Madeleine Beyssier de Pizany, Mme, 271 Lambert de Saint-Omer, Jean-Pierre, 100, 139, 140, 297, 310 Lamoignon (family), 9, 17, 78, 301 Lamoignon de Basville, Chretien Frangois

Index I I de, garde des sceaux, 30; president a

mortier, 336, 345, 348 Lamoignon, Chretien-Guillaume I de, 10 Lamoignon de Blancmesnil, Guillaume de, chancellor of France, 77, 91, 124-5, r 32, 134, i37» 139. J 43, i55 172, 174, 196, 198, 202—3, 215, 228, 232, 234, 238, 242, 304; his appointment, 59-60 Lamoignon de Malesherbes, Chretien Guillaume de, first president of the Cour des Aides, 20, 39, 203, 301, 345, 353, 359-6o5 364-5 La Monnoye, avocat, 304, 329-31 Languedoc, 68, 228, 358 La Rochefoucauld, Frederic Jerome de Roye, cardinal de, 3 La Roque, 114 Lattaignant, Pierre de, 174 Lattaignant de Bainville, Francois Louis de, 139 Laugier, Lucien, 33, 251 La Vauguyon, Antoine Jacques Paul de Quelen, due de, 215, 216 La Vrilliere, see Saint-Florentin L'Averdy, Clement Charles Francois de, 12, 99, 119, 150, 168, 206, 208, 301, 364; as controleur general, 77, 218,

220-1, 241-4, 246-8, 286, 288, 2978, 317; and Brittany affair, 252-6, 259, 268, 271-2, 275, 277-8, 280-1, 282, 310, 312 Law, J o h n , controleur general, 156, 243

Le Bret, Cardin FranQois-Xavier, 260 Lebrun, Charles Francois, 323-4, 350, 352 Le Febvre d'Amecourt, Adrien, 14, 216, 222

Le Febvre de Laubriere, (family), 12 Le Febvre de Saint-Hilaire, Andre-Gerard-Claude, 99, 100, 116— 17, 118, 140, 146, 147, 168, 301 Le Fevre d'Ormesson de Noyseau, Louis Francois de Paule, president a mortier, 111-12, 148, 150, 300, 338, 349 Le Moine, Charles Etienne, 300 Le Moy, A., 251 Le Noir, Jean Charles Pierre, 261 Le Normant d'Etiolles, Charles Guillaume, 53 Le Paige, Louis-Adrien, 37, 70, 94—5, 99100, 103, 107, 109, 152, 181-2, 207, 209, 241-2, 246-7, 280, 282, 305-6, 309-11, 324, 329-30, 336, 345, 3467, 359, 363; opinion of law of

385

silence, 94-6, 97; and crisis of 1756— 7, X37, 138, 146, 147; h i s constitutional theories, 164, 169, 176-8, 179-80, 182, 185, 232-3, 294, 299, 312, 356, 358, 3^4, 367 Le Peletier (family), 9, 17, 78 Le Peletier de Beaupre, Charles Etienne, 264, 266-8, 292 Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau, Michel-Etienne, 77, 300, 301, 338, 348, 349 Le Pretre de Chateaugiron, Auguste-Felicite, 305-6, 355 Le Sesne de Menilles d'fitemare, Jean-Baptiste, theologian, 37 Le Tellier (family), 48 Lettres de jussion, 73, 345, 348 Leuthen, battle of, 153, 154 Lieutenant general of police, (Paris), 23, 26, 221

Lit de Justice, 2, 15, 57-8, 73-5, 77, 158, 180, 184-6, 189, 190-2, 198, 221, 271, 287—8, 337, 343, 353; definitions of, 2-3, 164, 176-8; of December 1756, 120, 122, 126-7, 129, 132, 135, 142, 144, 149, 151, 153, 181-2, 183, 201, 321; organisation and ritual, 133; of August 1756, 176, 178-9, 181; of May 1763, 218, 223-5; of 27 June 1770, 314, 326-7, 328-9, 331, 333, 33^» 34 ! , 3475 of December *77o> 338-9 Lorges, Guy Michel de Durfort, due de, 358 Lorraine, 195 Louis le grand, 14 Louis IX, Saint Louis, king of France, 106, 162 Louis XIII, king of France, 52 Louis XIV, king of France, 15, 27-8, 31, 43, 44, 46, 47, 89, 98, 128, 156, 170, 182, 202, 219, 285, 365; relationship with nobility, 52, 82; attitude towards the judiciary, 41—2, 57, 82, 130, 155, 249, 363; treatment of ministry, 49, 52, 60, 206, 237; influence of marquise de Maintenon, 54; Louis de Bourbon, due de Bourgogne, dauphin, 215 Louis XV, king of France, 4, 10, 13—15, 19, 21, 28, 30, 32-3, 35, 36, 38-9, 40, 43, 56> 68> 77-8> 8 5, 92, 9 6 , J I 9, 122, 156, 158, 163, 181, 191, 194-6, 221, 226, 235, 250, 252, 254, 256,

386

Index

Louis XV king of France (cont.) 285, 292, 307-8, 310; and refusal of sacraments, 43-4, 47, 70, 87, 90-1, 124, 129; character and personality, 45-6, 47-8, 50, 52, 72-3, 236, 368; attitude to government, 46-9, 125-6, 132, 143-4, 197; faction and government, 47-52, 59-61, 131, 196, 205-6, 237, 239, 243, 248-9, 343; as his own first minister, 52-3, 86, 1545, 205, 236, 362; power of his mistresses, 53-6, 195, 260, 281-2, 317-21; attempted assassination of, 55-6, 136—7, 141-2, 208; treatment of the parlements, 71-5, 76, 135, 155, 184, 186-7, 200, 202, 269-71, 284; relations with princes and dues et pairs, 81-2, 152-3, 181-2, 203, 294—6, 329—30; and law of silence of September 1754, 87, 92-4, 97, 102, 104-6, 109—10, 115-16, 120—1; negotiations with Benedict XIV, I I O - I I , 115, 118; relations with royal family, n o , 125, 214, 260; the kings secret, 125-6; and political crisis of 1756-7, 126, 135-6, 138—9, 141, 142-5, 148, 151, 222; and difficulty of reform, 132-3, 184, 202, 218-19, 221, 248, 352; imposition of extraordinary taxation, 171, 172—5, 176, 178, 182, 183, 186-9, 218-21, 223-5, 231; a n d Seven Years War, 197, 212; and the Jesuits, 207—8; role in the Brittany affair, 251, 263-6, 269-73, 274-82, 306; and trial of d'Aiguillon, 314, 323-6, 328-9; and crisis of 1770-1, 314, 332, 335, 338, 340, 343-4, 345-6, 353, 358, 360-1 Louis-Joseph de Bourbon, dauphin, son of Louis XV, 55, 71, n o , 123-5, 137, 154, 197, 209, 214-16, 235, 247, 260, 263, 278, 316, 356 Louis XVI, king of France, 15, 17, 30-1, 33, 44, 72, 205, 221, 261, 350, 357, 363, 367; management of judiciary, 61, 367; recall of the Parlement, 361, 368 Louvois, Francois Michel Le Tellier, marquis de, 47 Luynes, Charles Philippe d'Albert, due de, 125, 141 Luynes, Marie Brulart, duchesse de, 125 Lyon, 305, 352 Machault d'Arnouville, Jean-Baptiste de,

77, 91, 124-5, J 32, 161, 343; as controleur general, 13, 30, 50, 54; fall

of, 47, 5 1 , 55, 6o> J 22, 142-3, 172, 194; creation of vingtieme, 48, 158-9, 286; appointment as garde des sceaux, 59—60; and lit de justice of December 1756, 126-7, 129-31, 133, 135 Madrid, 213, 340, 344 Magon de La Balue, court banker, 322 Maintenon, marquise de, 54 Maire, Catherine, 36 Maitre des requetes, 13, 19, 135, 257, 259, 262, 263, 268, 270, 285, 352, 357 Mansergh, Martin, 348 Marais, 14 Maria-Theresa, empress of Austria, 123, 340 Marie-Antoinette, queen of France, 340 Marie Leczinska, queen of France, 14, n o , 125, 215, 295, 318 Marion, Marcel, 28, 158, 250, 326 Maultrot, Gabriel-Nicolas, 37, 99, 100, 207, 309, 329, 359 Maupeou (family), 9, 301 Maupeou, Rene Charles de, as first president, 69—70, 94, 102, 104-5, 108-10, 114-15, 117-19, 120, 166, 167-8, 172-5, 227-8; involvement in crisis of 1756-7, 130, 133-5, r 45, 150, 151, 152; as vice-chancellor of France, 238-9, 242-4, 247, 255, 259, 304 Maupeou, Rene Nicolas Charles Augustin de, I O - I I , 20-1, 28, 30, 31-4,

37,

43, 48, 57, 7 1 , 75, 152, 156, 239, 284, 290; chancellor of France, 59, 281, 299, 301-2, 303-4, 305-7, 357, 361; as first president, 70, 239, 242, 244, 255, 272, 295; reforms of, 74, 77, 234, 3!2, 352-6, 357-8, 361-1, 368; opposition to, 182, 359-60; and crisis of 1770-1, 314-15, 321-32, 334-9, 340-3, 345-51, 367-8 Maurepas, comte de, 48; fall of, 51, 60; as first minister, 52-3, 205, 361 Maynon d'Invault, Etienne, controleur general, 317, 321

Mazarin, Jules, cardinal de, 40, 52 Mazarinades, 83 Merrick, Jeffrey, 38 Mesnard, D. F., premier commis, 261 Metz, 45, 141 Mey, Claude, 37, 99, 100, 207, 309, 329, 359 Meyer, Jean, 251, 281, 282, 309

Index Michau de Montblin, Hippolyte Louis Marie, 297; as leader of parlementaire opinion, 256, 272, 293-6, 298-302, 311-13, 327, 331, 333, 335, 338, 341, 348-9, 351, 365 Millen, Mme, 319 Minden, battle of, 197, 362 Mirepoix, Anne Marguerite Gabrielle de Beauvau-Craon, marechale de, 142, 320 Miromesnil, Armand Thomas Hue de, first president of the Parlement of Rouen, 72, 75-6, 198, 225-9, 231, 247, 248, 255, 268, 271, 335, 361, 367 Mole (family), 9, 17, 78, 80, 299 Mole, Mathieu-Franc.ois de, as first president, 69, 151, 186—7, l&9~9°, 239, 243; president a mortier, 102, 104,

116, 118, 148, 150, 171, 172-3, 1756, 178 Montesquieu, Charles Louis de Secondat, baron de, 35, 95, 356, 360, 363 Montmorency (family), 14 Montreal, 197 Montreuil, Picquet de, 258 Mont-Saint-Michel, 247 Moreau, Jacob-Nicolas, 39, 177, 220, 221; as critic of the parlements, 184, 2023, 232-4, 270, 273, 299, 348, 352 Moreau de Sechelles, Jean, controleur general, 143, 161

Mornet, Daniel, 35 Mousnier, Roland, 29 Murard, Alexandre-Frangois de, 78, 99, 113, 140, 150, 152, 239, 242-4, 297 Muy, Jean-Baptise du, 215 Nantes, 252, 261, 262 Necker, Jacques, 30, 31 Nigaudin, 16—17 Nigon de Berty, Simon, abbe, 134, 145 Niquet, Antoine Joseph, president a mortier in the Parlement of Toulouse, 231 Noailles (family), 14 Noailles, Adrien Maurice, marechal, due de, 77, 125 Noailles, Louis de, due d'Ayen, then d', 242, 249 Nobility, of the robe, 17, 50, 248, 301, 333) 354~5, 356-8; relations between robe and epee, 11—12, 14-15, 29, 356 Normandy, 221, 229, 358 Nouet, Claude Guy, 139

387

Nouveau de Chennevieres, 279, 300, 302, 311, 327, 333, 337, 34i, 347, 34^ Nouvelles Ecclesiastiques, 83, 112, 147, 164 Octrois•, 20

Ogier, Jean-Frangois, 303, 304, 311 Orleans, bishop of, 102, 105, 119 Orleans, cathedral chapter, 106, 119, 120 Orleans, Louis Philippe, due d', 203, 247, 329730, 345 Orleans, Philippe due d', regent of France, 27, 42, 43, 57, 73, 74 Ormesson, see Le Fevre Outremont, M. d', avocat, 309 Pacte de famille,

197, 212, 340

Pajot de Malzac, Antoine, 166, 173 Palais de Justice, 1, 22, 25, 63, 75, 84, 94, 105, 120, 137, 153, 161, 225, 271, 309, 345, 356 Palais-Royal, 14 Paraguay, 213 Pare aux cerfs, 45, 236, 317

Pargo, M. du, conseiller in the Parlement of Rennes, 253 Paris, Francois de, deacon, 37, 38, 95, 98-9, 100, 117 Paris, 1, 11, 14, 15, 20, 23, 25, 80, 85, 122, 127, 132, 176, 212, 225, 227, 240, 257, 263, 267, 274, 278, 318, 344 Parlement of Aix, 235, 354 Parlement of Besangon, 4, 64, 84-5, 157, 193, 232, 301, 354, 355, 357; see also Besangon affair Parlement of Bordeaux, 20, 35, 147, 1623, 166, 168, 171, 180, 254, 342, 354 Parlement of Dijon, 20, 198, 199, 354 Parlement of Douai, 203, 354, 356 Parlement of Grenoble, 74, 226, 230, 245, 354 Parlement of Metz, 334, 354 Parlement of Nancy, 354 Parlement of Paris, 1, 232-3, 250, 321, 365-6; rights of registration and remonstrance, 2-3, 27, 32, 34-5, 41, 56-8, 62, 66-7, 129, 352; membership, 3, 15; as Com des Pairs, 3, 81-2, 131-2, 152-3, 200, 233, 245-6, 280, 289, 325-6, 329-32, 333; venality and officeholding, 7-10, 15, 352; qualifications for entry, 10-n; wealth of members, 11-12, 16-17; career patterns, 12-13, 17; attitude to privilege, 13-14, 18, 156, 184;

388

Index

Parlement of Paris (cont.) marriage strategies, 14; deflation of office prices, 15-17, 129, 165-6; declining volume of litigation, 17, 18; relationship to king's councils, 19—20; attitude to other parlements, 20, 162-3, J 66, 186, 198-9, 226, 258; conflicts with Grand Conseil, 20-1, 23, 73, 77, 81, 131-2, 160, 286, 290-6; and gallicanism, 21, 88, 89, 120-1, 124; working pattern, 22-3; administration of Paris, 23-5, 285; censorship, 23-5; use of torture, 24; control of education, 25; and public opinion, 38-9, 82-5, 135, 150, 155, 184; involvement in aristocratic reaction, 28-9; opposition to reform, 29-35, 314-15; opposition to refusal of sacraments, 43-4, 63, 87, 90, 1034; conduct of debates, 58, 62-6, 67, 78-9, 107; management of, 61-2, 86, 150-5, 184—5, *97> 202, 362—3; role of comites, 63, 107; meetings of assemblee du cabinet, 64; arrets a n d

arrete, 67, 74, 97, 105, 227; internal commissions, 67; representations and remonstrances, 67-8, 68—70, 71, 73, 81, 82-3, 285-6; and lit de justice, 735, 176; interaction with the court at Versailles, 75-80, 86, 123-5, 237~~9» 239-44, 288-9, 362; language of opposition, 79-80, 82, 131-2, 168-9, 177-8, 180, 268-9, 272-4, 293-4, 312; absenteeism, 79, 118, 119-20; influence of Jansenists, 80, 98-103, 112, 118, 148-9, 168-9, 297-8; and law of silence of September 1754, 87-8, 92-4, 96-7, 101-3, 104, 120-1; interpretation of Unigenitus, 90; exile of i753"4> 91, 103, I27> i35> H» 352; arret de reglement of March 1755, 105-9; political crisis of 1756-7, 12&31, 133-8, 145-8; opposition to second vingtieme, 130, 131, 153, 157, I 6 O - I , 166-7, ! 69-76, 176-82; theory of a union des classes, 131, 147-8, 1625, 168, 178, 180, 200, 226-7, 233, 245' 256 5 268-9, 282, 337, 367; critics of the Parlement, 148-50, 202-3; taxation and fiscal matters, 156-62, 167-8, 182-92, 218-19, 2215, 229-30, 286—8, 290, 322; and expulsion of the Jesuits, 193-4, 207, 216-17; and Besancon affair, 75, 198-202; internal partis and divisions,

201, 239, 242-4, 297-302, 349; declaration of November 1763, 2401, 244, 247, 255-6; involvement in Brittany affair, 251-2, 254-7, 261, 262-6, 267-8, 271-4, 276-7, 278, 279-83? 307-13; and crisis of 1770-1, ^ 4 , 332-40, 345-5 !> 359-^0, 367-8; trial of d'Aiguillon, 314-15, 323-31; the Parlement and Maupeou, 351-6, 361 Parlement of Pau, 64, 257-8, 260, 264, 270, 282, 289, 291, 295 Parlement of Rennes, 8, 64, 74, 84, 85, 147, 157, 198, 248, 250-4, 255, 256, 258-9, 261—6, 267, 271, 274-8, 279, 282-3, 289, 291, 302-3, 305-7, 314, 321, 323, 324, 325, 332, 335, 354, 355; see also Brittany affair Parlement of Rouen, 72, 74, 147-8, 157, 198, 199, 225-8, 229-30, 233, 244, 246-7, 256, 269, 354 Parlement of Toulouse, 4, 8, 20, 74, 189, 226, 228-31, 232-4, 245-6, 256, 297, 325> 334, 342, 354 Parquet, 5, 8, 12,

Parti divot, 55, 59, 91, 125, 131, 211, 215-16, 235-6, 238, 260, 278, 319, 328, 337, 346, 35i, 355, 356 Parti janseniste, 37—8, 69, 70, 114, 120, 130, 161, 222, 285, 289, 351; influence within the Parlement, 70, 88, 112-13, 155, 160, 294, 297-8, 299> 301, 3°8-i3> 327> 330, 348, 3645 membership, 98-101, 297; and law of silence of September 1754, 101-3, 120-1; and arret de reglement of March 1755, 106—10, 113; criticism of Ex Omnibus, 115—18; dominance of Parlement's debates, 117—19, 131; involvement in the crisis of 1756-7, 137-41; opposition to second vingtieme, 166-9, x 7°-2, 173-5, 17682; expulsion of the Jesuits, 206-13, 216; and the ministry, 241—4, 248 Parti ministeriel, 6 1 , 244 Parti patriote, 28, 359, 360

Pascal, Blaise, 98 Pasquier (family), 301 Pasquier, Denis-Louis, 76, m , 116-17, 146, 166, 169-70, 174-5, 201, 293, 295> 331, 338, 339, 340, 348 Paulmy, Antoine Rene de Voyer d'Argenson, marquis d', 49, 125,

Index Peace of Paris, (1763), 197, 218 Peers, see dues et pairs

Penthievre, Louis Jean Marie de Bourbon, due de, 78 Perigord, Gabriel Marie de Talleyrand, comte de, 215 Perth, duchesse de, convulsionnaire, 101 Peyrenc de Moras, Francois Marie, controleur general, 124, 125, 143, 148,

161 Phelypeaux (family), 48 Philosophes, 24, 35, 37, 69, 211 Physiocrats, 220, 286 Picardy, 1 Pinon (family), 17 Pocquet, Barthelemy, 251 Poitiers, 352 Polisy, Frangois Farges de, 267 Polysynodie, 42

Pombal, marquis de, 213 Pompadour, Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, marquise de, 14, 51, 53, 125, 126, 210, 216, 247, 259, 321; patronage, and political power, 53-6, 59, 144, 153-4, 194-6, 238-9, 260, 317-18; and political crisis of 1756-7, 127, 139, 141-2, 148, 150; and Jesuits, 211-13, 364; Pomponne, marquis de, 60 Pondichery, 197 Pons, comte de, 330 Port-Royal, 80, 98, 207, 213 Portugal, 212 Potier de Novion (family), 9 Prague, 194 Praslin, Cesar Gabriel de ChoiseulChevigny, due de, secretary of state, 51, 237, 259, 316; fall of, 47, 51, 142, 343; appointment as secretary of state, 49, 205 Praslin, duchesse de, 49-50 Presidents a mortier (offices of), 4-7, 9-10, 12, 14, 22, 63, 67, 129, 134, 179, 295, 306, 327, 330, 355 Presidial courts, 21, 23, Princes of the blood, 2, 5, 35, 71, 81-2, 83, 152-3, 179, 280, 289, 293-6, 329-3 J> 358, 3 6 ° Procureur general, office and functions, 5, 23, 61 Procureurs, 22, 135

Provence, 199 Provincial estates, 221 Prussia, 123, 193 Pucelle, Rene, abbe, 294

389

Puysieulx, Louis Philogene Brulart, marquis de, 124 Quebec, 197 Quercy, 114 Quesnel, Pasquier, pere, theologian, 89 Rapporteur, office and duties, 4, 61, 62, 63, 92, 170, 173, 183, 184, 188, 295 Raudin, Jean-Frangois, subdelegue general of Rennes, 305 Regale, 5

Renard, councillor in the Parlement of Besangon, 207 Rennes, 85, 255, 257, 259-60, 264, 275, 278, 327, 335 Rentes foncieres, 222 Rentes viageres, 157, 159, 186

Requetes, 67, 127, 133-4, 336; organisation and membership, 5-6; judicial role, 7. 10; daily routine, 22-3; involvement in debates, 62—3, 64-5, 130, 167 Revol, Charles-Frangois-Henri de, 99, 140 Richard de Saint-Non, Jean-Claude, abbe, 138 Richelieu, Armand du Plessis, cardinal de, 40, 52, 123 Richelieu, Louis Francois Armand du Plessis, marechal, due de, 215, 258, 260, 317-20, 355, 358 Richet, Denis, 163 Riley, James, 170, 184 Riquet de Bonrepos, Jean Gabriel, procureur general of the Parlement of Toulouse, 231 Robert de Saint-Vincent, Pierre Augustin, 12, 70, 79, 96-7, 99, 107, 116-19, 121, 129, 139—40, 168, 179, 206, 208-9, 210, 224, 240—3, 257-8, 272, 286, 297-8, 301-2, 311, 336, 342, 347 Robien, syndic of the estates of Brittany, 275 Rolland de Challerange, Jean-Frangois-Claude, 99, 138, 140, 168, 297, 302 Rolland d'Erceville, Barthelemy Gabriel, 255 Romans, Anne Couppier, Mile de, 281, 3*7 Rome, 54, 83, 108, n o , 115, 128, 195 Rosbach, battle of, 153, 154, 194, 317, 362 Roualle de Boisgelou, 300, 311 Rouen, 147, 225, 229, 230, 232, 244, 268

Index

390

Rouille, Antoine Louis, secretary of state for foreign affairs, 124-5, I 2 8 , X 4 4 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 24 Roussel de La Tour, Pierre Philippe, 188, 190-1, 220

Russia, 123 Sacy, pere, Jesuit, 211-12 Saget, Jean-Baptiste, 99, 139, 146-7 Saint-Cast, battle of, 260 Saint-Cyran, 98 Sainte-Foix, M. Radix de, financier, 317 Saint-Etienne-du-Mont, parish of, 101 Saint-Fargeau, see Le Peletier Saint-Florentin, Louis Phelypeaux, comte de, 48, 124-5, r96> 205, 231, 245, 253-4, 256-7, 258-9, 264, 268-9, 273, 275, 278, 317; from 1770 due de La Vrilliere, 48, 341-2 Saint-Hilaire, see Le Febvre Saint-Malo, commission of, 262-4, 266, 267-8, 271, 283, 292 Saint-Medard, 98 Saint-Simon, Louis de Rouvroy, due de, 215, 228 Salaberry, Louis Charles Vincent d'Irumberry, abbe de, 14, 167 Saxe, Maurice, marechal, comte de, 125 Saxony, 123, 130 Seance de la flagellation, 7 1 , 268-74, 277, 335 Secretaires du roi, 17

Seguier, chancellor, 58 Senechaussees, 23

Seven Years War (1756-63), 27, 33, 49, 61-2, 122, 156, 187, 191, 193, 197, 213, 216-18, 286, 341, 362-3; financial cost of, 219-10 Shennan, J . H., 31 Silhouette, Etienne de, 29, 162, 183-6, 196, 221, 232

Sorbonne, 25 Soubise, Charles de Rohan, prince de, 14, 142, 153, 212, 215, 317, 320

Spain, 197, 199, 213, 341, 343 Stainville, see Choiseul Subvention general, 184-5, r ^7 Survivance, 48-9, 143

Symonnet, Louis-Franc,ois, 5 Taille, 20

Talon, Mme de, 239 Terray, Joseph Marie, abbe, 78, 159-60, 187, 265, 368; as controleur general, 50,

287-8, 312, 321-3, 328, 336, 343, 345-6

Thome, Philippe de, 157-8, 159, 160, Titon, Jean-Baptiste-Maximilien, 99, i n , "3 Toulouse, 228, 230, 231, 232, 244 Tournelle, 7, 22, 257, 261, 273, 276-7, 283 Treaty of Versailles, May 1756, 55, 123, 144 Treaty of Westminster, January 1756, 123

Tremoille (family), 14 Troyes, bishop of, 105 Trudaine, Daniel Charles, conseiller d'etat, 255 Tubeuf, Simon Jospeh, 139 Turgot (family), 9 Turgot, Anne Robert Jacques, 13, 30, 31, 39, 76 Turgot d'Ussy, Michel Jacques, 244 Ultramontane, 36 Unigenitus, 25, 27, 36, 42-3, 74, 87-8, 95, 98, 105-8, n o , 113, 117, 121, 123, 148-9, 195, 297, 355; contents and aim, 87-9; problems of definition, 90-1,

109—11, 115, 122,

127-8

Valfons, marquis de, 143 Van Kley, Dale, 36, 38, 99, 139, 140, 150, 168, 207, 208, 210

Veron de Forbonnais, Francois, economist, 237 Versailles, 2, 4, 11, 14-15, 34, 38, 41, 49-5 !> 53, 56> 58, 61, 65, 71, 75, 78, 104, 108, n o , 115, 123-4, 126, 132, 135-7, 142, 146, 150, 154, 176, 179, 182, 187, 193, 195, 202, 204, 206-7, 210-11, 214, 222, 225, 229, 231, 235, 248, 253, 260, 266, 271, 280, 294-5, 302-3, 317-18, 340, 344, 351, 360, 362, 366 Viarmes, councillor in the Parlement of Rouen, 247 Vienna, 123, 154, 194, 195, 196, 205, 214 Vineam Domini, 98

Vingtieme{s), 43, 48, i n , 147, 153, 158-9, 161, 175, 183-4, 187-9, 218-20, 222, 286-7, 290 Vitry-le-Francois, 23 Voltaire, Francois Marie Arouet, 24, 125, 197, 207, 216, 254, 359 Walpole, Robert, 76 War of the Austrian Succession (1740-8), 123, 158, 194, 286

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