At this time there were in France more than a hundred offenses punishable with death. In the coronation oath of the King was a clause promising that he would exterminate all heretics. Just how this was to be done, the King left to experts. The "lettre de cachet," or secret arrest, was in full swing and very popular among princes and church officials high in authority. Any suspected man could be removed from family and friends as though the earth had swallowed him. He went out to drive, or to walk, or to work, and was seen no more. Search was vain and inquiry useless—aye, worse, it might involve the inquirer. The writ of habeas corpus was as yet a barren hypothesis.

Common people had no rights: they were merely granted privileges, one of which was the privilege to live until the order went out that the man should die.

Confessions were wrung from men and women by the use of the rack, twistings, blows, indignities, an exact description of which could not be printed. These details were left to priests, sanctimonious men who did their work with pious zeal and therefore were not accountable. Church and State were wedded. To doubt Scripture was to be in league against the State. Heresy and treason were one. To laugh at a priest might be death. To fail to attend mass and pay was to run a risk.

Lords and bishops held vast estates and paid no taxes. Grain was not allowed to flow from parish to parish, but was held in check by prohibitive tariffs. The King, himself, speculated in breadstuffs and banked on famine, for royalty was exempt from all tariff law. Thus was food made a monopoly. To petition was construed as an insult to the crown and was treated accordingly.

Most estates held serfs who were not allowed to leave the premises of their lord on penalty of death—they belonged to the land.

Officers in the army had the right to beat their soldiers, and if the soldier raised a hand to protect himself, he could be legally killed.

All skilled labor was in the hands of the guilds. These guilds got their charters from the crown. They fixed prices, regulated the number of apprentices, and decided who should work and who should not. To work at an art without a license from the guild was punishable by fine and imprisonment; to repeat the offense was death. Citizens could neither sell their labor nor buy the labor of their neighbors or families, without permission. The guild was master, and the guild got its authority by dividing profits with a corrupt court. Thus a few laborers received very high wages, but for the many there was no work. The guild made common cause with the priest and the peer. The collection of taxes was farmed out to the "farmers-general," who kept half they got. When the yearly contract was signed, the Secretary of State was given a present called "The Bottle of Wine," by the successful bidders. This present was in cash and varied anywhere from fifty to a hundred thousand francs. Where the custom began, no one knew; but it ended with Turgot, who turned in to the government treasury a perquisite that had been made him of seventy thousand francs, and issued an order that no official should accept a present of money from a government contractor.

Needless to say, Turgot was regarded as an unsafe person, and his official career was cut short.

Thomas E. Watson, in his most interesting book, "The Story of France," says:

The Catholic church was a huge religious monopoly. Its hierarchy was
entrenched in a power before which the king himself was a secondary
potentate. Then followed those consequences which have always
followed when too much power is granted to any set of men. The
Catholic church absorbed much of the wealth of the land. The higher
priesthood became an aristocracy, imitating in every respect the
feudal aristocracy, which was rich, idle and licentious. Just as the
State regarded the subject from the standpoint of taxpayer only;
just as the State imposed upon the common people all the burdens of
government while denying them the benefits; so the nobility of the
Catholic church lived sumptuously, lazily, licentiously—shirking
their duties, forgetting the responsibilities of their sacred
calling, neglecting the flock committed to their care, allowing
ignorance and superstition to take full possession of the minds of
the common people.