Daily Life During the French Revolution (11 page)

Many travelers, in spite of proper documents from the
customs at Calais and bags closed with lead seals, were searched again upon
entering Paris. Not only did unexpected delays at custom houses inconvenience
people and cost them money, but also they caused havoc with internal trade
conducted by legitimate businessmen right up to the time of the revolution.
Even going down the Rhône from Lyon by boat, passengers were forced to wait at
Vienne, only about 20 miles south, to be once again inspected by customs
officers, recorded Lord George Herbert.

An indignant Reverend William Cole refused to pay any more
bribes to custom officials when he reached the gates of Paris in 1765, and his
luggage was thoroughly searched for contraband goods. Found was a pair of new
boots, and when the officials claimed that no new goods were allowed without
payment, the reverend told them to take the boots at their peril, but he was
not paying. After some time and probably an unpleasant altercation, they let
him pass. Most travelers paid to avoid the inconvenience.

Philip Thicknesse, an English army officer who made many
trips to France before the revolution, reported that there were ways to quickly
get through the internal customs barriers—“a twenty-four sols piece and on
assuring the officer that you are a gentleman and not a merchant, will carry
you through without delay.” He returned in 1801, well after the revolution, and
wrote: “You are not now plagued, as formerly, by customhouse officers on the
frontiers of
every
department, My Baggage, being once searched at
Calais, experienced no other visit.”

Having reached Paris, many travelers found the buildings
too tall and the streets too narrow and dirty; in addition, many of the streets
lacked sidewalks, making them a danger to pedestrians. This was often commented
on by both foreigners and French. There were other problems also: Dr. John
Moore, who was there in 1792, complained that “Paris is poorly lighted” and
that people “must therefore grope their way as they best can, and skulk behind
pillars, or run into shops to avoid being crushed by the coaches.”

Others reported that carriages clattered along at top
speed, and it was the responsibility of those on foot to jump clear. There were
many injuries and deaths in the city from passing coaches that often did not
even bother to stop.

FRENCH TRAVELERS

When Fréron and Barras, two representatives of the
revolutionary government, were sent on a mission to Marseille, Fréron sent back
a letter to the Convention on December 12, 1793, to counter accusations that
they were living in luxury. He claimed that they were not dining in the style
of a tax collector and indeed ate only one meal a day, at four in the
afternoon, and sometimes they gave a bowl of soup to hungry sans-culottes if
they asked for it. Fréron also mentions how hard he worked, not going out for
several days but instead sitting in his dressing gown writing his reports. If
he did go out at all, it was only for a few hours to get some fresh air. He had
no time to see any women because he was much too busy working for the nation
(which he loved a hundred times more). The two men lived at an inn and dined
alone to save money.

He wrote about Marseille and the work they were going to do
there. Since there were no police in the city, he and Barras established a
police force. They discovered four gaming houses where the people addressed
each other as Monsieur and Madame and the louis cost 60 livres in paper money:
“We are going to raid the gamblers tomorrow morning. Marseilles is going to be
paved and cleaned up, for it is of a horrible filthiness. Moreover, this will
give employment for many idle hands.” To bring the city into line, one of the
deputies stated, with regard to prostitutes, “all the public women who infect
our volunteers and entice them away from the army shall, within two days be
placed under arrest. The order has been signed and a place readied to receive
them. Diseased girls will receive treatment and healthy ones will work at
sewing uniforms or shirts for the brave defenders of the
Patrie.
”

As a result of a decree passed by the Convention on October
8, 1793, for the requisitioning of horses for the army, the country had been
divided into 20 sections, each assigned to a representative. The deputy
Goupilleau de Montaigu, from the west, made several trips to the south from
1793 to 1795. He did not depart on horseback or in a two-wheeled buggy but
instead hired a four-wheeled carriage and three horses to pull it. On the roof
he placed an enormous hamper for his personal effects. Horses and postilion
were changed at each posting house, which were not far apart. Citizen
Goupilleau spent enough just getting to his first destination: 25 sous for each
horse, and another 10 for the postilion or guide; about 25 sous to cross rivers
and streams by ferryboat, not to mention the charges for lodgings at inns and
for meals. Bolstered with many cushions, he was able to travel comfortably,
observe the countryside, and take notes.

Lyon was not to his liking: the narrow streets were badly
paved and muddy, and the houses, in his opinion, were not as nice as those in
Nantes. After passing Vienne, on October 15, he felt he had reached the south,
for the weather turned warm. On his way to Valence, he remarked on the
shallowness but the fast flow of the Isère River as he crossed it by ferry and
noted that the life of the people seemed to change with the scenery, becoming
more relaxed. The mulberry and almond trees and large, black swine seen along
the side of the road suggested a more carefree existence than existed in the
north. On October 17, at Mondragon, he saw more mulberries but also fig and
olive trees. He found the food good and the wine excellent at Avignon, but the
innkeepers, he said, were rogues who “lavish attention on you when you arrive
and skin you alive when you depart.” On October 19, at seven in the morning, he
arrived at Arles complaining that the mosquitoes kept him awake all night and
that he had been forced to close the window of the coach. Next stop was Aix,
whence he went on to Marseille, which, contrary to Fréron, he found to be a
beautiful city comparable to Nantes, although the theater was not as good and
the port was only a large pool surrounded by rundown buildings. He complained
about the prices of the inns whose keepers, as at Avignon, he claims were of
“Italian” mentality.

Madame Simon, the mistress of the Hôtel de Beauveau,
charged him extremely high prices, and he swore never to return there. He did
find in his expensive room, however, a wonderful invention that allowed him to
sleep well—a mosquito net draped around the bed.

He visited many other cities where he was grandly received
by the town dignitaries. In the Jacobin town of Antibes, where patriotic fervor
was at a high pitch, many of the streets were named after recent revolutionary
events, such as July 14. Then, on to Nice where again he found the streets too
narrow, but he admired the Place de la République. Generally he found the
inhabitants of the south very honest and decent but fatiguing. A man from the
more formal west, he complained that he could not walk a step without being
surrounded by chatter. He was forced to eat and drink too much by amicable and
generous southerners. On his return to Paris, he again stopped at Arles and
remained there for a month, until December 6, attending to his mission of
requisitioning horses. While there, he was dragged off to a bullfight but
thoroughly disliked the spectacle of animals engaged in combat before they were
slaughtered, simply for the amusement of people, comparing it to Roman
barbarism. His other missions were also replete with festivals, gastronomic delights,
and fine wine, the price of which was well out of reach for most Frenchmen.
Apparently, for some, it was splendid to be a deputy
en mission.

4 - LIFE AT VERSAILLES

THE PALACE

The
palace at Versailles was the wonder of Europe, a monument to Bourbon power and
wealth. The main buildings, comprising decorated halls, galleries, apartments,
state rooms, terraces, and courtyards, were surrounded by vast formal gardens
that included lawns, bushes, trees, and sculpture intersected by broad gravel pathways.
There were numerous secluded groves and a mile-long Grand Canal. The many
fountains played all around, and manmade lakes were home to swans. North of the
gardens stood the Grand and Petit Trianons, or royal villas. The Petit Trianon
was a favorite retreat of Marie-Antoinette.

There was another side to the palace besides its intricate
beauty and grandeur, however. The many chimneys did not draw well, and
throughout the winter rooms were full of smoke and the upholstery, wall
hangings and carpets smelled of soot, the odor permeating clothes and wigs.
Servants and aristocratic visitors often relieved themselves on back stairs,
along the darkened corridors, or in any out-of-the-way place. The writer Horace
Walpole agreed with other English visitors to Versailles that the approach was
magnificent but the squalor inside was unspeakable. The stench of urine and
fecal remains wafted through corridors and gardens where waste water was often
emptied from the windows. Sometimes garbage was dumped on the royal grounds by
local peasants. Cats and dogs roamed freely, many wild, leaving their calling
cards on paths and roads and in the shrubs. Madame de Guéménée, governess of
Louis XVI’s two sisters, went about the palace with an escort of dogs that she
kept in her rooms. She feigned communication with the spiritual world through
them.

Just about anyone could enter the palace and wander about
its broad hallways and spacious salons. Visitors from Paris strolled through
the corridors admiring the
objets d
’
art
and furnishings, watched
by servants who, no doubt, looked on with dismay at the parade of muddy boots
and dirty paws. Dignitaries and ambassadors from foreign courts brought their
entourages to Versailles and filled rooms of the palace and town with servants,
slaves, camp followers, and exotic pets. About 10,000 people lived or worked in
the palace.

FINANCES

Debt was part of everyday life for the royal court and the
nobles who lived there, but it was not of any great concern, and everyone
reckoned that it would be paid off eventually. Huge expenses were incurred when
each of the royal children was born, with the usual fanfare in Paris of booming
cannons, bonfires, pyrotechnics, music, and plenty of free wine. Many Parisians
loved the celebrations but were not pleased when another palace, St. Cloud, was
purchased for the queen. The money was said to have come from selling other
crown lands, but Parisians were skeptical, assuming that more millions of
livres had been added to the debt. They began calling the queen Madame Deficit,
among other unsavory names.

Further, they were angry when Marie-Antoinette singled out
the Polignacs for favors. In 1777, Yolande de Plastron, comtesse de Polignac,
became a close and intimate friend of the queen, who lavished expensive gifts on
her. Before long, her husband, who was not well off, began to attain high,
lucrative offices. In one year (1780), he was made the first equerry to the
queen, grand falconer of France, and governor of Lille. In a position to spread
his largesse around, he made his portrait painter, Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, the
most important artist at court and her brother one of the many secretaries of
the king (which gave him noble status). Vigée-Lebrun’s art-dealer husband also
received a constant stream of wealthy customers.

The list of Polignac appointments to the royal household
grew and grew, and eventually the entire family and relatives had lucrative
posts. An ample pension was given to a monk who happened to be related, and
even remote members of the family received gifts and annuities, all of which
amounted to tens of thousands of livres. This kind of extravagant spending, and
the huge state pensions given to Marie-Antoinette’s favorites, aroused a good
deal of indignation among the people. In 1776, the entire annual household
budget of the court amounted to about 30 million livres, of which about 3
million went to the Polignac clan. The average Parisian worker of the time
received about two livres a day.

Louis XVI, King of France and Navarre.

DAILY LIFE