Legends of the Bastille

by Frantz Funck-Brentano

The Abbé Morellet.

We come to the Abbé Morellet, a man of fine and fascinating mind, one of the best of the Encyclopædists, who died in 1819 a member of the Institute and the object of general esteem. He was arrested on June 11, 1760, for having had printed and distributed, without privilege or permission, a pamphlet entitled: Preface to the Philosophers’ Comedy; or, the Vision of Charles Palissot.[44] These are the terms in which, later on, Morellet himself judged his pamphlet: “I must here make my confession. In this work, I went far beyond the limits of a literary pleasantry regarding the Sieur Palissot, and to-day I am not without remorse for my fault.” And further, as J. J. Rousseau, in whose favour the pamphlet had been in part composed, had to acknowledge, the Abbé “very impudently” insulted a young and pretty woman, Madame de Robecq, who was dying of decline, spitting blood, and did actually die a few days later.

The arrest of Morellet was demanded by Malesherbes, then censor of the press, one of the most generous and liberal spirits of the time, the inspirer of the famous remonstrances of the Court of Taxation against lettres de cachet—the man who, as M. H. Monin testifies, “being elected censor of the press, protected philosophers and men of letters, and by his personal efforts facilitated the publication of the Encyclopædia.” Speaking of the Preface to the Comedy, Malesherbes writes to Gabriel de Sartine, lieutenant-general of police: “It is an outrageous pamphlet, not only against Palissot, but against respectable persons whose very condition should shelter them against such insults. I beg you, sir, to be good enough to put a stop to this scandal. I believe it to be a matter of public importance that the punishment should be very severe, and that this punishment should not stop at the Bastille or the For-l’Evêque,[45] because a very wide distinction must be drawn between the delinquencies of men of letters tearing each other to pieces and the insolence of those who attack persons of the highest consideration in the State. I do not think that Bicêtre would be too severe for these last. If you have to ask M. de Saint-Florentin for the royal authority for your proceedings, I hope you will be good enough to inform him of the request I am making.”

It will be observed that, on Malesherbes’ showing, the Bastille would not suffice to punish the Preface to the Comedy, nor even the For-l’Evêque; he asks for the most stringent of the prisons, Bicêtre. Before long, it is true, this excellent man returned to milder sentiments. An imprisonment at Bicêtre, he wrote, would be infamous. Saint-Florentin and Sartine were not hard to convince. Morellet was taken to the Bastille. “The warrant for his arrest,” wrote one of his agents to Malesherbes, “was executed this morning by Inspector D’Hémery with all the amenities possible in so unpleasant a business. D’Hémery knows the Abbé Morellet, and has spoken of him to M. de Sartine in the most favourable terms.”

When he entered the Bastille the Abbé calculated that his imprisonment would last six months, and after acknowledging that he at that time viewed his detention without great distress, he adds: “I am bound to say, to lower the too high opinion that may be formed of me and my courage, that I was marvellously sustained by a thought which rendered my little virtue more easy. I saw some literary glory illumining the walls of my prison; persecuted, I must be better known. The men of letters whom I had avenged, and the philosophy for which I was a martyr, would lay the foundation of my reputation. The men of the world, who love satire, would receive me better than ever. A career was opening before me, and I should be able to pursue it at greater advantage. These six months at the Bastille would be an excellent recommendation, and would infallibly make my fortune.”

The Abbé remained at the Bastille, not six months, but six weeks, “which slipped away,” he observes “—I chuckle still as I think of them—very pleasantly for me.” He spent his time in reading romances, and, with admirable humour, in writing a Treatise on the Liberty of the Press. Afterwards the good Abbé informs us that the hopes which he had indulged were not deceived. On issuing from the Bastille he was a made man. Little known two months before, he now met everywhere with the reception he desired. The doors of the salons of Madame de Boufflers, Madame Necker, the Baron d’Holbach, flew open before him; women pitied him and admired him, and men followed their example. Why have we not to-day a Bastille to facilitate the career of writers of talent!

Marmontel.

To Marmontel his stay at the royal prison appeared as pleasant as the Abbé Morellet had found his. He had amused himself by reciting at Madame Geoffrin’s a mordant satire in which the Duke d’Aumont, first groom of the stole to the king, was cruelly hit. The duke expostulated; Marmontel wrote to him declaring that he was not the author of the satire; but the nobleman stood his ground.

“I am helpless,” said the Count de Saint-Florentin, who countersigned the lettre de cachet, to Marmontel; “the Duke d’Aumont accuses you, and is determined to have you punished. It is a satisfaction he demands in recompense for his services and the services of his ancestors. The king has been pleased to grant him his wish. So you will go and find M. de Sartine; I am addressing to him the king’s order; you will tell him that it was from my hand you received it.”

“I went to find M. de Sartine,” writes Marmontel, “and I found with him the police officer who was to accompany me. M. de Sartine was intending that he should go to the Bastille in a separate carriage; but I myself declined this obliging offer, and we arrived at the Bastille, my introducer and myself, in the same hack.... The governor, M. d’Abadie, asked me if I wished my servant to be left with me.... They made a cursory inspection of my packets and books, and then sent me up to a large room furnished with two beds, two tables, a low cupboard, and three cane chairs. It was cold, but a jailer made us a good fire and brought me wood in abundance. At the same time they gave me pens, ink, and paper, on condition of my accounting for the use I made of them and the number of sheets they allowed me.