The crisis of February 15, 1770, caused great numbers of the Native watchmakers of Geneva to flee from the city and take refuge at Versoix and at Ferney. Versoix was unequal to the emergency. There were no houses for the workers. But Ferney rose to the occasion. That was always part of its old master’s genius.
Only a few months after the Natives had first consulted him, this far-seeing person had begun to build workmen’s dwellings in his village. The overflow from those “pretty houses of freestone,” he now took into the château itself. So far, so good.
The next thing to do was to obtain the permission for his settlement from the authorities. The authorities were personified by M. de Choiseul. Voltaire had helped him with his Versoix. So Choiseul could not, and did not, refuse to help Voltaire with Ferney.
To start the watchmakers in their new home at their old trade, Voltaire advanced sixty thousand livres. He at once found occupation for fifty Genevan workmen, not counting the inhabitants of Gex. He himself bought gold, silver, and jewels for the work, a better bargain than the work-people could do for themselves.
In six weeks he had watches ready for sale—of exquisite workmanship, artistic design, and to be sold at least one third cheaper than they could be in Geneva. The Duke of Choiseul bought the first six watches ever made by Voltaire’s manufactory.
By April 9th the old courtier was promising the Duchess that she should soon have one worthy to wear even at her waist.
Then he began his system of personal advertisement. The handsomest commission in the world on every watch he sold could not have made the neediest agent work harder or more cunningly than did this Voltaire, who received at first no commission, never could expect a large one, and had need of neither large nor small.
On June 5, 1770, he sent round a circular to all the foreign ambassadors—“diplomacy en masse”—a most beautiful circular from “The Royal Manufactory of Ferney” (in capital letters), and recommending watches—“plain silver,” from three louis, to repeaters at forty-two. That flaming document is still preserved.
The advertiser wrote a letter with it. “I never write for the sake of writing,” he said; “but when I have a subject I do not spare my pen, old and dying as I am.”
Catherine the Great was appealed to; and in answer to her “vaguely magnificent order for watches” to “the value of some thousands of roubles,” Voltaire had to apologise for his workmen having taken advantage of her goodness, and sent her watches to the value of eight thousand!