Saturday, 10 October 2015

Lettres de cachet and their critics

Lettres de cachet were orders issued by virtue of royal judicial prerogative (la justice retenue) by the Maison du roi, signed personally by the king or his Minister of state,  sealed with the royal seal ("cachet") and written to a set formula.  Although they could be used for a variety of reasons, they most commonly commanded the exile or imprisonment of an individual, and had to be obeyed without question. They thus enabled governments to bypass normal judicial process and, in theory at least, gave ministers unlimited powers of arrest and detention. Their use against the parlements and various high-profile individuals in the course of the century made them into hated symbols of arbitrary royal power.  


Lettre de cachet of June 1785 signed by Louis XVI
 and the duc de Breteuil
In reality the majority of lettres de cachet were not initiated by the government at all but, by extension of royal policing responsibilities, by the lieutenant-general of  police and his bureau de cabinet in Paris or by the provincial intendants.  Characteristically they were solicited by private individuals, usually against family members who were guilty of financial irregularities, infidelities or moral misconduct of some sort.  Although Enlightened royal ministers grew increasingly reluctant to resort to Lettres de cachet, they seemed virtually powerless to stem the tide of private demand.  Between 1741 and 1775 almost twenty thousand were issued, and numbers continued to escalate; in Brittany, for instance, there was an average ten letters each year between 1735 and 1750, but twenty to forty between 1778 and 1779. The recent historian Claude Quétel emphasises their positive social function in enabling families to restrain behaviour which might otherwise lead to costly or scandalous legal. action.  They were not confined to the aristocracy but solicited by a wide spectrum of "respectable" people.  (Claude Quétel even manages to catch out Voltaire who in 1730 instigated  a request by the inhabitants of the rue de Vaugirard for the apprehension of a drunken tripe seller who was disturbing the peace and creating a"public scandal") 

The potential for abuse was obvious. To men of the Enlightenment, moreover, private actions of this sort came to seem an unacceptable infringement of personal liberties. Here are a few key texts:


Malesherbes, Remonstrance of August 1770


The reign of Louis XVI began with a serious government attempt to reform or abolished the letters.  In July 1775 Guillaume Lamoignon de Malesherbes, friend of Rousseau and protector of the philosophes, took office under Turgot as Minister of the Maison du Roi.  Malesherbes had already distinguished himself as an outspoken critic of the Lettres de cachet as president of the Cour des Aides of Paris.  In 1770 the Court, which heard appeals against the tax tribunals and custom officials, had supported claims to compensation by a suspected smuggler named Monnerat who had been  incarcerated for twenty months in Bicêtre without a hearing on the orders of the Farmers-General. In the resultant collision with the Controller-General Terray the Court was temporarily dissolved. Malesherbes's  Remonstrance of 14 August 1770 addressed to the King a general denunciation of lettres de cachet together with an emotive account of Monnerat’s imprisonment in the “subterranean dungeons” of  Bicêtre:  In a country which benefits from  due legal process, writes Malesherbes, there should be no need for  extra-judicial orders, which serve only the interests of the powerful against the weak:  "The orders signed by Your Majesty are often filled with obscure names of people whom Your Majesty could not possibly know...The result, Sire, is that no citizen in your realm is assured of not seeing his liberty sacrificed to personal vengeance".  In his unpublished writings Malesherbes went further: It was an abuse of royal authority to deprive a man of liberty "by the the despotic judgment of a single man" (see Texts below)

On becoming Minister  Malesherbes set a commission of magistrates to review all applications for Lettres.  However, Louis XVI proved reluctant to support any further attack on the royal prerogative.  Malesherbes himself was forced to continue issuing Lettres on his own authority. He resigned following the fall of Turgot after only ten months in office.




Mirabeau, Enquiries concerning the Lettres de cachet, 1782


Mirabeau at Vincennes
Illustration fromTighe Hopkins.
 The Dungeons of Old Paris, 1897
(Wikipedia)
Between 1773 and 1780 the future Revolutionary tribune was the subject of numerous lettres de cachet instigated by his father and was incarcerated in four different prisons of state. It was in Vincennes in 1777-8 that he penned his famous pamphlet, Des Lettres de cachet et des prisons d'etat. Fifteen thousand copies were printed anonymously by Mirabeau's publisher in Neuchâtel. Despite its length and prolixity, the work is seldom absent from Robert Darnton's lists of illegal best-sellers of the 1780s; Malesherbes complained that all Paris was awash with copies.  Mirabeau flatly denounced as tyrannical the practice of "arbitrary, and indefinite imprisonment" by  which it was possible to "bury in dreary dungeons whole generations" (p.211). The illegality of state prisons such as Vincennes and the Bastille was manifested in the ubiquitous principle of underground imprisonment ("this place where all is dungeon"), the tyranny of the prison director ("an absolute despot") and the veil of secrecy in which prisoners were enshrouded. Mirabeau made no distinction between public policy and privately instigated action;  the Lettres de cachet  were "acts of tyranny", made possible only through ministerial and state  despotism which "disfigures, devours and destroys everything"(p.353-6).





Linguet, Memoirs of the Bastille, 1783



The lawyer and journalist Simon-Nicolas-Henri Linguet 
was imprisoned in the Bastille from 27th September 1780 to 11th May 1782 after his highhanded reporting managed to offend both the duc de Duras and the comte de Vergennes. His subsequent memoirs, composed safely in exile in London, went through at least six editions in French and numerous translations.  The work is strikingly modern in its account of the psychological trauma of arrest by Lettres de cachet;  although prisoners were no longer subject to physical torment, they suffered "tortures...of the mind". In  a civilized world, in the midst of a people who were "gay, mild and frivolous", the Bastille was an "abyss" ; innocent citizens were  incarcerated and abandoned to horrors of isolation, without even knowledge of the charges against them. The procedure is contrasted  pointedly with the normal process of law in which proceedings are "open and regular". Linguet even perpetuates the myth that royal ministers had sets of Lettres already signed and ready to issue. In signing a warrant for imprisonment, the King imagines himself making legitimate use of his authority for the public repose, but instead he delivers over the innocent to "agony", "sighs" and "affliction".


Circular of the Duc de Breteuil, October 1784

As Minister in charge of the Maison du Roi, from 18 November 1783 to 27 July 1788, the duc de Breteuil resumed Malesherbes work of prison reform and his attempts to curb the use by private persons of Lettres de cachet. To Breteuil it no longer seemed appropriate to use royal power to police private morality.  In October 1784 he published a famous circular to all provincial Intendants and to the lieutenant-general of police, requiring them to review their prisoners and set definite limits to terms of detention. (see Texts below) In particular he seeks to avoid detention orders issued against family members, merely to avoid public scandal.

By the 1780s, however, reform of abuse was not enough to answer critics of royal authority. The Correspondance secretes for 15 November 1784 noted that Breteuil had given "a sort of solemnity" to an illegal practice and was likely to attract the enmity of the Parlements, of ministers and women in general by investing so much power in the intendants.
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=kA4KAAAAIAAJ&q=139+#v=onepage&q=cachet&f=false

In 1789 the end of the Lettres de cachet was an almost universal theme of the Cahiers de Doléances, those of the clergy most energetically   They were finally suppressed by a Royal declaration on 26 June 1789.


Gérard Vidal, Police conducting an arrest, print c.1760
https://art.famsf.org/g%C3%A9rard-vidal/difference-opinion-19633022838
References

Graham, Lisa Jane "Lettre de cachet" Europe, 1450 to 1789: Encyclopedia of the Early Modern World[Encyclopedia.com]. 2004. (Contains good bibliography)
Claude Quétel Les lettres de cachet : Une légende noire (Paris  2011
Reviewed in Le Figaro: 
http://www.lefigaro.fr/lefigaromagazine/2011/05/21/01006-20110521ARTFIG00599-mythe-et-realites-des-lettres-de-cachet.php
You can hear Quétel summarise his findings in:
"Des vies brisées par les lettres de cachet" - Au coeur de l'histoire  Franck Ferrand Europe 1 published 26 décembre 2011
http://www.europe1.fr/mediacenter/emissions/au-coeur-de-l-histoire/sons/des-vies-brisees-par-les-lettres-de-cachet-879153

Primary source:  
Mirabeau Enquiries concerning the Lettres de cachet (English translation; London J&J Robinson, 1787)
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=HXs3AQAAMAAJ

S-N.H. Linguet, Memoirs of the Bastille (Dublin, 1783; reprint with notes by Jim Chevallier, 2005)
https://archive.org/details/cu31924024340089 (1884 English translation)

Some translated texts: 

Malesherbes, Remonstrance of the cour des Aides, 14 August 1770
From Frantz Funck-Bretano Les lettres de cachet à Paris 1659-1789 (Paris, 1903), p.xli
https://archive.org/details/lettresdecachet00func
Today these orders have multiplied prodigiously and are issued for all sorts of different causes and personal considerations.  Today, they are considered necessary every time a man of the people shows lack of respect towards a person of rank, as if powerful men do not already have enough advantages.  It is also the ordinary punishment for indiscreet words, for which one never has any proof but the denunciation itself....Every man who enjoys a certain consideration believes it is beneath him to have recourse to ordinary Justice. The orders signed by Your Majesty are often filled with obscure names of people whom Your Majesty could not possibly know..  These orders are at the disposal of your ministers, and necessary to their work, judging from great number that are issued.  They are intrusted to the administrators of the capital, and of the provinces, who can only distribute them on the  word of their subordinates.  They are entrusted to other hands, since we see them given out on the demand of a simple Farmer-General, even an employee of the Farm.... The result, Sire, is that no citizen in your realm is assured of not seeing his liberty sacrificed to personal vengeance; for no-one is great enough to be safe from the hatred of a minister, nor sufficiently insignificant to escape that of a clerk of the tax-farm.


Unpublished "Observations on the Lettres-de-cachet" J.B. Dubois, Notice historique sur Malesherbes...3rd ed.(Paris 1806) , p.67-73
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Q6RWAAAAcAAJ 

[Malesherbes first of all outlined the history of the Lettres,which he believed originated with the Roman conquest of Gaul . By the reign of Louis XIV,Kings of France no longer reserved the power of life and death over their subjects but still claimed the right to determine their liberty]

p.71-3: It is certain that, for more than a century, that is to say precisely during the time in which we claim humanity has made so much progress, lettres-de-cachet have become so commonplace that they are now a second system of criminal justice.  Arbitrary right over life and death would perhaps be less dangerous, because it would be rare that a King would pronounce a capital penalty.  It is because the lettres-de-cachet are reputed to be less severe that they are distributed with such profusion.  Little difficulty is made about exiling someone because it is considered a minor punishment; we ask Kings to deprive their subjects of liberty so lightly because  Kings have never seen the prisons.  The King must be respected, he must be obeyed; he neglects his duties by an excess of indulgence as much as by an excess of severity;  but in all cases he should remove from his person the disagreeable function of punishment.

The following are manifest abuses of royal authority:
1. To lend the name of the King to orders that should emanate from the law, that he cannot have knowledge of, and that, sheltering behind that sacred name, no-one is responsible for.
2. To intrude the authority of the King into affairs of administration and above all into those that only interest private individuals, affairs for which the function of the King is to give judges and not to be the judge.  Still less should he allow his ministers to act under his name.
3. To pronounce on one of a man's greatest goods, which is his liberty, by the despotic judgement of a single man, without assurance of the equity of  the judgement, as is the case in the precautions prescribed by ordinary criminal justice.


Circular letter addressed by the Baron de Breteuil, Minister of State, to the Provincial intendents of his Department on the subject of Lettres de Cachet & Orders of Detention,  Versailles, 25th October 1784
From Frantz Funck-Bretano Les lettres de cachet à Paris 1659-1789 (Paris, 1903), p.xlii
https://archive.org/details/lettresdecachet00func
You will find, attached, Monsieur, a list of the different persons in your Department, currently detained by orders of the King issued as a result of your information and advice or those of your predecessors.

You will see that some of this detentions are very longstanding.  I have no doubt that there are several that need to be ended and I ask you not to lose a moment in checking and indicating those which you think should be revoked immediately and the reasons why others should continue.

I know that the diversity of causes of detention, and the differences in sex, age, birth and education of those detained, make it difficult to established fixed rules for all circumstances; but it still seems to me that it is possible to lay down rules that can apply to the majority, if not to all cases.

The proceedings which take place daily before my eyes, have shown me that those detained fall for the most part into three classes:

The first class consists of prisoners who have lost their minds and whose imbecility makes it impossible for them to conduct themselves in society, or whose rages make them a danger to others.  In these cases we should ascertain if their condition is still the same; and whether their detention remains indispensable because their liberty would either be harmful to society or of no benefit to themselves.

I place in the second category those who have troubled public order by behaviour which, without  exposing them to ordinary legal penalties, has given them over to libertinism, debauchery and dissipation.  I think that, where there is no misconduct and their behaviour has not been accompanied by criminal activity, or the baseness of character that almost always leads to criminal activity, their detention ought not to last for more than one or two years.

To deprive someone of liberty for one or two years is a strong corrective measure; it should inspire wise reflection and work towards reform in a soul which is not entirely given over to corruption.  Families, even mothers and fathers, who are in general more indulgent than other relatives, often exaggerate the misdeeds of those whose detention they request. By giving way  too readily to their excessive demands,  rather than offer correction, we often inflict punishment.  It is essential that we appreciate the distinction and do not lose it from sight.

When,  in addition to libertinage, persons detained are guilty of stealing money or effects from the family home, or when they have committed infidelities, abused confidences,  or used other dishonest means not covered by ordinary law to procure money, then their detention should be longer.  I think, however, that it should still not exceed two or three years; and that one year is sufficient for a young person under twenty who has been carried away by the passions of youth, misled by bad advice or due to inexperience has not appreciated the consequences and extent of their fault.

I also include in this second class women and girls who behave badly and the same observations should apply; that is to say, if they are guilty of simple weakness, one or two years of correction should sufffice, and detention should extend to two or three years only in cases of scandal and public notoriety.

The third class are those who have committed acts of violence, excess or crimes which threaten law and order,  and which, should they appear before the law, would be punished by penalties burdensome and dishonourable to the families concerned.  I think that there is little that can be said about the length of time these persons should be detained; that must depend on the circumstances of the crime, the character of the person concerned, the evidence they give of having repented, and the use they can reasonably be presumed to make of their liberty, should it be restored.

We should bear in mind that prisoners detained for crimes should count themselves lucky to have escaped the punishment they merited;  a perpetual, or even a very long detention is the worst possible of punishments for anyone whose feelings are not entirely annihilated or degraded.

Besides, it is not only in the case for prisoners confined for crimes or infringements, but for all prisoners, whatever the reasons for their detention, that we should take into consideration their conduct since they have been detained....

I hope that in this article you will not rely entirely on the testimony of persons charged with guarding the prisoners; I desire that you find out for yourselves; that in the course of your rounds of inspection, you visit with particular care the places of detention in your Department, be they prisons, religious houses, forts or castles;,that you interrogate the prisoners yourself and you take account in their presence of the concerns they voice.

I am convinced that, making such visits once a year to each place of detention, will produce a very good effect: they will allow you to know not only the conduct of the prisoners, but also the manner in which they are treated; you will listen to their petitions, you will know if their food and upkeep is proportional to the pension that is paid for them; also the ordering and regulation of each House; what precautions are necessary to maintain tranquility among those detained; what measures should be taken to prevent escapes; in short, what abuses are essential to rectify.  These details are worthy of the attention of an Admnistor.

If you cannot concern yourself personally with all the Houses, forts or castles in your Department you could at least visit those with the most prisoners, and have the others visited by your subordinates or other reliable people, whose judgement you believe you can count on.  You are asked  to report to me each year  the results of your visits.  You can be confident that I will give the King a detailed account and advise him to adopt your views on any changes or reforms that seem to you useful or necessary.

...Thus, Monsieur, when you recommend detention orders  requested by families, I ask you ;to indicate at the same time what you think the length of detention ought to be: I think in general, apart from exceptional circumstances, this should not be more than two or three years for men guilty of libertinage and baseness or,  in the case of women,  libertinage and scandal.  No more than a year or two is necessary when, women are guilty only of weakness or men of misconduct and dissipation.

I also ask you to recommend a term of detention even for those who are suspected of excess, infractions or crimes.  This must, as I have said, depend of the circumstances, and those, Monsieur, are for you to judge.

With regard to persons whose detention is requested because they are out of their mind, justice and prudence demands that you recommend a detention order only  when a judicial interdiction has been pronounced...
When it is question of confining a minor, the agreement of the father and mother has been sufficient up until now.  But fathers and mothers are sometimes unjust, or too severe, or too easily alarmed, and I think that you should always require at least two or three other relatives to sign the memoirs asking for orders.

The agreement of the maternal family is indispensable when the mother is dead; and that of the two families where there is no father; this is even more important when there is neither parent.

Finally you should treat with the greatest circumspection complaints of husbands against wives, and those of wives against husbands; in these cases above all the two families must unite and give formal consent to the recourse to authority.

These principles are known, and I know that in general they are always followed.  But I have noticed that sometimes orders have been requested and recommended by  MM. les Intendants  in circumstances where they should be issued.  For example a person who is of age,  and no longer under paternal authority, ought not to be imprisoned, even at the request of the both families,  because his crimes could attract penalties that unreasonable, but existent, prejudice considers shameful to the whole family.

It is essential, when weighing the facts, to distinguish cases which only inconvenience families from those which expose them to true dishonour.  It is no doubt inconvenient for people of a certain class, and humiliating,  to have before their eyes a sister or near relative whose morals are indecent, and whose romantic escapade or weaknesses cannot be kept quiet.

It is also a misfortune for an honest family, and one they cannot view with indifference,  if in the same town, even canton where they live, a family member sullies themselves  with a shameful marriage, ruins themselves by ill-considered spending, or delivers themselves over to an excess of debauchery,.  But this does not seem to me a strong enough motive to deprive persons of their liberty if they are, as they say in the Law, sui Juris.  They are harming only  themselves; their dishonour is their own; their relatives have no share it and have no right to demand the  intervention of the authorities.


These,  Monsieur, are  the reflections suggested to me by my close examination of all that concerns orders of detention, since the King has named me Secretary of State.  I have given an account to his Majesty, who has found them to conform to the view of justice and benevolence which animates him....

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Myths of the Bastille: the legendary escape of Latude




Also newly rehung at the Carnavalet is this splendid portrait by Antoine Vestier of Henri Masers de Latude, hero of a legendary escape from the Bastille.  The painting was completed in double-quick time following the fall of the Bastille and was exhibited to universal admiration in the Salon of 1789. Despite having spent much of his adult life detained in the most notorious prisons of the ancien regime, Latude looks remarkably youthful as he rides high on the crest of public adulation.  He stares out proudly at posterity, one hand on the rope ladder he used in his escape, the other pointing at the demolition crew already hard at work on the fortress. The ladder itself, now unravelled and elaborately conserved, is on show next to the painting. 


The considerable amount of documentation relating to Latude's career is conserved in the Archives of the Bastille at the Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal. Bundle 11693 includes manuscripts theatrically written by Latude in his own blood on cloth torn from a shirt  (exhibited in the Bastille ou l'enfer des vivants exhibition in November 2010-February 2011).




Escape from the Bastille, with its towers, great walls and moat, was a rare event indeed.  In the three and a half centuries of its existence, despite 6,000 imprisonments, the prison suffered only seven escapes, the last before Latude taking place in 1709.


Latude and his crime

Born in 1725 in Montagnac in Languedoc, Latude - in those days just plain Jean Danry - was the illegitimate son of a laundress and an impoverished nobleman.  As a youth he had served with the Army as an assistant surgeon  (in effect a barber), but in 1749, found himself destitute in Paris.  It was at this point that he hit upon a crazy and ill-advised scheme to gain favour by disclosing a imaginary assassination plot against the Marquise de Pompadour.  He sent her a booby-trapped parcel containing poison (in fact a harmless vitriol) which he  naively addressed in his own undisguised handwriting.  The parcel was duly intercepted, the deception unravelled, and Danry founded himself arrested and incarcerated first in the Bastille, then at Vincennes.  In the charged atmosphere of the time, the mere suggestion of lèse-majesté was enough to ensure his long imprisonment.  In June 1750  Danry made his first escape by giving his guards at Vincennes the slip and absconding through an opportune unlocked door. On this occasion he was recovered from an inn where he was staying after a mere five days.

Cover of the Latude's fateful parcel addressed to Madame de Pompadour,14 x 21 cm.
 Archives de la Bastille.


The  great escape

 Back in the Bastille, Latude could now only expect severe treatment.  He spent eighteen months chained up in a dungeon, but was finally allowed back into the main prison where he shared a room in the Comte tower with an equally desperate young man named Antoine Allegre.  In the winter of 1754-5 the two planned their escape. The rooms in which the prisoners were confined were arranged, one per floor, in each of the eight towers of the old fortress.  The walls were six feet thick, with only a grill to let in a chink of light.  An immense chimney over the fireplace, spiked with metal gratings and bars, went up 9 metres to a platform from which there was a 25-metre drop into the moat, to say nothing of the imposing outer walls of the bastion.  The prisoners first loosen a tile from the floor using pins from a folding table and two cylindrical lighters, to reveal an empty space which could be used as a hiding place.  They then about the huge task of tearing out the gratings and bars preventing access to the chimney. They spent hours scraping with makeshift tools and blowing water from their mouths onto the cement to soften it. They also had to construct a rope ladder for the chimney, plus another to get down from the towers, plus a wooden ladder to scale the outside wall. The labour took  eighteen months.  They were first able to escape out onto the platform where they secured pieces of iron fromgun carriages and even a mallet and drill that had been left overnight.  The first rope ladder was made from twisted threads unravelled from shirts and handkerchiefs and all manner of linens.  The two men spent the winter of 1754-5 demanding more and more clothing;  the commissioner of the Bastille obligingly had two dozen shirts and the same quantity of handkerchiefs made for Latude at the King's expense.  For the outer walls, they constructed a ladder with no less than 151 rungs, each laboriously created from fire logs using a home-made saw.  They decided to avoid the dangerous route through the governor's garden by boring a hole directly through the wall of the moat to the Saint-Antoine gate.  At one point in October 1755 they were sent into panic when it was announced that they were to be transferred to another room so that repairs could be made to their cell. They spent three tense months, then were moved back to find the ceiling repaired and their escape equipment under the floor intact .  They finally made their successful bid for freedom  on the night of 25 February 1755.

Sadly for Latude his ingenuity and determination in absconding was not matched in his subsequent movements.  He was eventually picked up in Amsterdam after just three-and-a-half months of freedom and on 15 June 1756 found himself back in the Bastille. Confined to a dungeon, he continued to write obsessively, working on various wild engineering schemes which he hoped would earn his release. In 1759 Sartine returned him to a room in the Comte tower. Following the death of Madame de Pompadour it was decided that he should be transferred in Vincennes and "left in oblivion".  Here he escaped for a third time, absconding from his guards in a thick fog.  This time he did not even attempt to flee but demanded an audience with the duc de Choiseul and was promptly reincarcerated.  He was now held in the castle keep of Vincennes and from September 1775 in the asylum at Charenton.  In 1777 he was actually liberated but importuned the King's ministers at Versailles to such an extent that he was rearrested and sent finally to Bicêtre, where he was held in miserable conditions, suffering from rheumatism and scurvy.


Latude becomes a hero of the Revolution 

On a winter day in 1781, a  knitwear trader called Madame Legros  found a package with an unreadable address in the street and opened it.  Inside she discovered a letter from one “Masers de Latude, prisoner for thirty-two years at the Bastille, at Vincennes and now at Bicêtre, on bread and water, in a cell 10 feet underground”, whch contained a plea for mercy obviously addressed to the King.  Madame Legros was so deeply moved that she spent  three years campaigning determinedly and at great financial sacrifice for Latude’s release.   She circulated copies of his letter, persuaded two attorneys, Lacroix and Comeyras, to act on his behalf and even managed to interest influential members of the nobility, notably Voltaire's former host the Marquis de Villette.  In 1784 Latude’s release was finally secured -  the Académie française even awarded Madame Legros its  newly inaugurated prize ” for virtue” in recognition of her efforts.  In 1787 an illegally published set of memoirs (by the Marquis Beaupoil de Saint-Aulaire) connected Latude’s story to a scathing attack on the lettres de cachet and the justice system in general.  Hundreds of visitors now came to his Paris apartment, sent him money, and listened to him recount his experiences. 

After the Revolution Latude seized his chance to publish his own account and to attempt to gain compensation for his sufferings.  His capacity for showmanship matched that of the master publicist Palloy; in fact there is every reason to infer that the two were in collusion The very day after the fall of the Bastille Latude was apparently to be seen clambering down into the dungeons where, with the aid of Palloy’s workers, he opportunely rediscovered the instruments he had used in his escape attempt concealed behind a trap-door in the former Archives room. In particular he found the 180-foot-long rope ladder he had used to scale the ramparts.  Latude and his effects were carried off to the Hôtel de Ville, where he was warmly received; and the artifacts duly restored to his custody.

Several weeks later in August and September 1789, Latude published the first of his Memoirs which reproduced his petitions to Madame de Pompadour and to Sartine and gave an account of his sensational escape through the chimney and over the tower walls of the Bastille.  Already well known in enlightened circles, Latude now became, for a short time, a national hero. The famous painting by Vestier, created in August 1789, was reproduced in a number of engravings, with suitably mawkish patriotic verses eulogising Latude courageous reconquest of liberty.  The painting itself was displayed in the Autumn Salon at the Louvre. In the course of 1790 the ladder was exhibited at innumerable markets throughout France and England though the former prisoner himself declined to take part in the tour because of his advanced age.  A miniature of Latude’s rope ladder and the inscription “Replica of the self-made ladder with which M. de Latude escaped the Bastille” was included with the models of the Bastille which Palloy began to send out to the departments in November 1790.  In July 1790 the Jacobin Club elected Latude one of their members by acclamation. Madame Legros received a further honour,  the “citizen’s crown”, which was  solemnly presented to her by a delegation of twelve.

Latude’s biography,  published by his lawyer Thiery in 1790, was a Revolutionary best-seller with more than twenty editions – despite its 500 pages.  Copies were sent out by Palloy with his stones.  The work is carefully crafted. Latude concealed his meagre schooling and early years as an assistant surgeon by fabricating for himself a refined education as an engineer. He also glossed over the discreditable circumstances of his imprisonment  by inferring a genuine plot against Madame de Pompadour.   He dwelled in suitably Gothic prose on the horrible conditions of his imprisonment and his cruel persecution by La Pompadour, and the lieutenants Sartine and Le Noir.  For thirty-five years he had “vainly belaboured these infernal vaults with my sighs and my despair”, weighed down by chains, gnawed by vermin, breathing only putrid air...

Latude appeared before the Assembly twice, in May 1790 and January 1792, to petition for a state pension.  On the first occasion his request was denied due to the ambiguity of his crime but on the second occasion he was received with applause by the members of the Legislative.  The deputy Lasource emotionally recalled  the passage from the memoirs in which he recounted how he had continued to write with his own blood on cloth rags when deprived of paper and ink by the governor of the Bastille.  On 10th August when the statue of Louis XV on the Place de la Révolution was torn down, he was presented at his own request with the King's bronze right hand.  In addition to the pension in 1793 he also finally received damages to the considerable sum of sixty thousand livres from the heirs of the Marquise de Pompadour.  He lived on until 1805, continuing to play the role of martyred hero to the last.


References
Memoirs of Henry Masers de Latude.  English edition.  (Dublin 1834)
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=NGTTAAAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false

The classic account of Latude's exploits is Legends of the Bastille by Frantz Funck-Brentano, with an Introduction by Victorien Sardou, Authorised Translation by George Maidment, London :  Downey & Co. Limited; 1899; pp. 168-237.
http://www.elfinspell.com/France/LegendsOfTheBastille/Chapter6-Latude.html


 Claude Quétel, Escape from the Bastille:  the life and legend of Latude (English trans. Polity Press 1990)

Hans-Jürgen Lüsebrink and Rolf Reichardt, The Bastille: a history of a symbol of despotism and freedom (1997) p.112-8.

Saturday, 3 October 2015

Paris - tableaux by Jean-Baptiste Marot at the Carnavalet

The French Revolution rooms at the musée Carnavalet reopened in February this year following their refurbishment.  Among the new exhibits are three newly-acquired paintings of Paris by the artist Jean-Baptiste Marot created for Eric Rohmer's 2001 film The Lady and the Duke  (based on the experiences of the Scottish-born courtesan Grace Dalrymple Elliott during the Terror).  Marot's tableaux (there were thirty-seven in all) were used to form the film set with the actors digitally inserted into them as though into moving paintings. The result is effective if a bit weird - rather like a live-action pop-up-book. 

The pictures themselves, however, are beautiful and meticulously researched using a plethora of plans, maps, paintings and engravings, as well as Charles Marville's  photographs of pre-Haussman Paris.  The three Carnavalet acquisitions on display represent the Palais Bourbon, the Church of Saint-Roch and the Convent of the Feuillants.

 rue St-Honoré and the couvent des Feuillant


The Church of St-Roch,
Based on the painting of 1840 by Mingasson de Martinazeau 
 also in the Carnavalet 

References

Musée Carnavalet Press dossier February 2015
http://parismusees.paris.fr/sites/etablissement_public/files/cp_dp_visuels/dossiers_de_presse/dp_reouverture_salles_de_la_revolution.pdf

Jean-Baptiste Marot, Article for Neil Young's Film Lounge, March 23rd, 2004
http://www.jigsawlounge.co.uk/film/reviews/neil-youngs-film-lounge-jean-baptiste-marot/

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Assassin's creed - Unity





Released last year, the game Assassin’s Creed Unity, in the Assassin’s Creed series by Unisoft, is set in Paris during the Terror. “Point and click” is about my limit as far as gaming is concerned,  but I love this game's beautiful recreations of Revolutionary Paris.

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Voltaire by Largillière - the case of the two portraits


Here is the magnificent Largillière portrait of Voltaire in the Versailles collection, prominently rehung in the Salle du Pape in January following the Charlie Hebdo shootings. Shame that it should ever have been hidden away!

Even though the painting is so well known, there is a certain amount of  mystery surrounding it.  The problem is that there are actually two Largillière portraits, this one in Versailles and one in the Musée Carnavalet, both of which have good claim to be the "original".  The prima facie case for the Versailles portrait is a strong one.  It  is clearly the superior painting in finish and coloration, and has the endorsement of Largillière experts such as Dominique Brême, who wrote the catalogue for the major Largillière exhibition at the Musée Jacquemart-André in 2003. But the Carnavalet portrait too has a well-established provenance.



Voltaire, the actress and the painting


Voltaire poses for the artist whilst the 
beautiful Suzanne looks on adoringly.
Illustration from a fanciful 19th-century account,  
Houssaye, Actresses and lovers (1852)
The only early reference to the portrait is a note in the Kehl edition of the works of Voltaire relating to the Epistle Les tu et les vous which was written in about 1729 and probably addressed to Voltaire's former lover Suzanne de Corsembleu de Livry, marquise de Gouvernet. Long ago in 1716, whilst in exile at the Hôtel de Sully, Voltaire had struck up a relationship with the beautiful aspiring actress.  Despite Voltaire's voice coaching she failed to excel on the stage, even when Voltaire secured for her the leading role of Jocasta in Oedipe.  She subsequently travelled with a troupe of actors to England,  acquired an aristocratic husband the marquis de Gouvernet, and, with Voltaire's aid, won a fortune on the lottery. In 1729 Voltaire was not amused when he found himself turned away from her door by a lackey.  A lifetime later in 1778, during Voltaire's final months in Paris, the former lovers, now both octogenarians, met once again. Voltaire discovered that she still possessed his portrait.
According to the note:

"At the time of his liaison with mademoiselle de Livri, M. de Voltaire had given her his portrait, painted by Largillière, and she had kept it always despite their parting, her change of estate and her religious devotion.  During their conversation in 1778, he let it be known that he wanted to offer this portrait to the marquise de Villette;  madame de Gouvernet consented, and Voltaire immediately carried it off personally to madame de Villette, who has possessed it ever since." 


The picture was sold as part of the Villette collection in 1865. 
Here is a notice:

Vente de Villette, 1865
http://digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/diglit/cac1865/0321
.
Largillière. Portrait de Voltaire à trente-cinq ans. Habit bleu, chapeau sous le bras, la main gauche passée dans le gilet. Voltaire avait donné ce beau portrait à  portrait à Mlle de Livry ; plus tard il témoigna le désir de l’offrir à  Mme de Villette; Mlle de Livry, devenue Mme de Gouvernet, y consentit; Voltaire le prit et l’apporta lui-même à Mme de Villette. Depuis ce moment, il est resté dans la famille. Voir dans les Œuvres de Voltaire, une note à la suite de l’épître intitulée : "Les Vous et les Tu". 6,250 fr

[Largillière. Portrait of Voltaire, thirty-five years old.  Blue coat, hat under the arm, left hand in his waistcoat.  Voltaire had given this fine portrait to Mlle de Livry; later he expressed his desire to offer it to Mme de Villette.  Mlle de Livry, who had become Mme de Gouvernet, consented to this.  Voltaire took it and carried it himself to Mme de Villette.  Ever since that time it has remained in the family.]

This picture is almost certainly the one now in the Musée Carnavalet. It belonged to Jean-Baptiste Mariani, the former French ambassador in Rome (I am not sure whether he actually bought it at the Villette sale but, if not, it was always identified in the 19th century as the same painting.)  When he died in 1890, he bequeathed it to his brother-in-law Charles Floquet (one time Prime Minister of France), whose widow donated it to the Carnavalet in 1899. The picture is annotated in an 18th-century hand: "Fr. de Voltaire, peint par Largillierre en 1728, donné à la marquise de Villette en 1778" (It is interesting that both this note, and the sale details, place the painting in the late 1720s rather than 1718.)



No other copy of the work was  known to 19th century commentators.  Critics often complained that, since this picture was in private hands, no good quality  portrait of Voltaire was accessible to the public.  There was only an inferior copy prepared for the Académie française.  This still  exists at Versailles; the details of Voltaire's dress  - notably the red waistcoat and arrangement of buttons - show clearly that it derives from the Carnavalet portrait.

http://www.culture.gouv.fr/public/mistral/joconde_fr?
ACTION=CHERCHER&FIELD_1=REF&VALUE_1=000PE006028


What about the Versailles Largillière?

We know that it belonged to Massimo Uleri - presumably the film producer -  who donated it to the Versailles collections in 1962.  Squinting at "snippet view" of the 2003 Largillière exhibition catalogue yields the information that this portrait too is identified as the picture given to Suzanne de Livry.  The earliest entry in the detailed provenance refers to the collection Evrard de Rhoné, which was the subject of a sale in Paris, hôtel Drouot, on 6-8 May 1861.  (I even found a sale catalogue on Internet Archive but, disappointingly, there is no mention of the Voltaire.).  The portrait subsequently belonged to several other collectors and was sold to M. Uleri in December 1961.

The  notice for the Carnavalet Voltaire offers one possible explanation:

"The existence of the version in Versailles, which is of better quality, has cast doubt on the authenticity of the portrait in the Carnavalet.  According to the research of Samuel Taylor, the portrait in the Carnavalet is indeed the original, and the portrait in Versailles, is a copy ordered by Voltaire from the artist in about 1740.  The difference in quality may be explained by Voltaire's fame - by 1740 Largillière was painting the most famous author in Europe."

Samuel Taylor is presumably Samuel S.B. Taylor, who has written extensively on both Voltaire and Rousseau. So far I haven't traced the reference.  However, there is clearly no absolute consensus among the experts. 

 It might be worth pointing out that we do not really know if the portrait given to Mlle de Livry was the "original" or the only one in circulation in the 1720s; would Voltaire really have surrendered the only copy to his mistress (or even ex-mistress), I wonder?

References

Versailles portrait:

Joconde:
http://www.culture.gouv.fr/public/mistral/joconde_fr?ACTION=CHERCHER&FIELD_1=REF&VALUE_1=000PE006597 
Versailles (Musée de l'histoire de France):
http://www.museehistoiredefrance.fr/index.php?option=com_oeuvre&view=detail&cid=116

Carnavalet portrait:

http://a80-musees.apps.paris.fr/
I can't see a way of linking directly to this notice for the Carnavalet portrait on this website, so here is a copy:
Institution
Musée Carnavalet, Histoire de Paris
Domaine
Peinture
Auteur/Fonction d'auteur/ Datation/Lieu d'exécution
Largillierre, Nicolas de (Paris, 10/10/1656 - Paris, 20/03/1746)
Peintre
entre 1718 et 1724
Titre
Portrait de Voltaire (1694-1778) en 1718
Stade de la création
Ouvre achevée
Description
Toile ovale.
Matériaux et techniques
Huile sur toile
Dimensions
·  80,00cm (Hauteur,Ouvre)
·  65,00cm (Largeur,Ouvre)
Iconographie
Voltaire (1694-1778) vers 1728. Le modèle coiffé d'une perruque, revêt un gilet, un jabot et un habit orné de larges boutons.
Marques, inscriptions, poinçons
Inscription concernant l'auteur
Au revers de la toile : "Fr de Voltaire, peint par Largillierre en 1728, donné à la marquise de Villette en 1778".
Historique
L'existence de la version de Versailles, de plus belle qualité, a fait douter de l'authenticité du portrait du musée Carnavalet, dont l'historique est pourtant assez sûr. D'après les recherches de Samuel Taylor, il semble que le tableau de Carnavalet soit bien l'original et que le tableau de Versailles soit une réplique autographe, demandée par Voltaire à l'artiste vers 1740. La différence de qualité peut s'expliquer par la plus grande notoriété du modèle en 1740 : Largillierre aurait alors pris plus de soin à représenter le plus célèbre écrivain de toute l'Europe qu'il n'en avait pris, vers 1720, à représenter un auteur encore à ses débuts.
Mode d'acquisition
Legs
Donateur,testateur ou vendeur
Floquet, Charles
Date d'acquisition
1899
Numéro d'objet
CARP0208



 
                  

Wednesday, 16 September 2015

A little-known portrait of Voltaire



Anonymous portrait in oils of Voltaire; 91 cm x 71cm
Dijon, Musée des beaux-arts 
Portraits give an illusion of familiarity - it is faintly disturbing to discover a new one, especially of a subject you think you recognise and know  well....This Voltaire, which I have not come across before, is from the Musée des beaux-arts in Dijon.  It was formerly thought to be by Antoine Vestier but in 2004 the Sorbonne research student Michelle Despes argued that the artist was in fact the Flemish painter and Academician Jacques André Joseph Aved (1702-66).  This ascription is now accepted on Joconde.  Aved moved in the same circles as Voltaire in Paris.  He held a salon in his Hôtel des Théatins, rue de Bourbon (now rue de Lille)  knew Fontenelle and Titon du Tilleul, and frequented the gatherings of Madame de Lambert, the duchesse du Maine and Madame de Tencin.


In 2006  La Gazette des Délices published a piece by Michelle Despes in which she attributed to Aved an altogether better-known portrait, the Voltaire "at the age of twenty-four" acquired by Theodore Besterman in 1948 and given to the Institut et Musée Voltaire in 1953.  This picture is usually dismissed (quite reasonably) as an inferior copy of the famous portrait by Nicolas Largillière in Versailles. A manuscript note in a 19th-century hand on the back specifies that it was given by Voltaire himself to Charles Palissot, author of the comedy Les philosophes (1760).

Perhaps surprisingly, the curators at Les Délices have taken Michelle Despes's argument sufficiently seriously to outline her reattribution in their guidebook (Petite histoire des Délices (2013), p.33-34)

The case rests mainly on dating.  In 1718, Michelle Despes argues, the youthful Voltaire was too poor and lacking in standing to have commissioned a picture from the great Largillière, but was much more likely to have encountered Aved. (I worry a little that Aved, if he was born in 1702, was only sixteen at the time...?). This may be so, but on the other hand Voltaire is known to have possessed and cherished a Largillière portrait of his mother (a version of which was sold at auction in 1986)

The date of the Largillière portrait is in any case open to doubt.  According to the notice for the Versailles picture, the date of 1718 derives from a letter concerning the engraved version executed by Etienne-François Besson for the Oeuvres complètes de Voltaire, published in Paris  in 1785-9.  This specifies that the model was twenty-four years old when he posed. Voltaire appears older than this (though he clearly still has his teeth!)  and experts on Largillière feel,  based on the style and palette, that a date of 1724-25 is more likely.  This places the portrait at a suitable highpoint in Voltaire's career; he received a pension from the Regent in 1722, published the Henriade in 1723 and in 1725 was charged with theatrical productions for the marriage of Louis XV (1725).   His wig and clothing too are consistent with Regency fashions.

Michelle Despes would also clearly like to challenge the idea that the Les Délices Voltaire is a "mere copy".  In her view it represents a more natural style, showing Arouet with the dreamy distant expression of a young man in love, much more spontaneous and fresh than the "cold and impersonal" Largillière.  In which case, is the highly finished Versailles painting the copy?  How does the Les Délices  picture compare with the Dijon portrait by Aved?  It seems to me that there are lots of difficulties with this interpretation.  The conventional view, that the Les Délices picture is a later copy of the Largillière original seems much more likely.


References

Notice of the Dijon portrait on Joconde:
http://www.culture.gouv.fr/public/mistral/joconde_fr?ACTION=RETROUVER&NUMBER=1&GRP=0&REQ=%28%28%27CA%20T%20128%27%29%20%3aINV%20%29


Lespes, Michelle, "Clin d’œil : Portrait de Voltaire à l’âge de vingt-quatre ans : une nouvelle hypothèse", La Gazette des Délices. La revue électronique de l’Institut et Musée Voltaire, 12, hiver 2006. 
http://institutions.ville-geneve.ch/wwwextras/bge-gazette/12/pdf_12/12_clin.pdf

Flavio Borda d'Agua, ‎François Jacob, Petite histoire des Délices (2013), p.33-34.


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